#and now for something completely different

[colormepurplex2]

Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

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

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s, uh…”

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

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

“You’re healthy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Who?”

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

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

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

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

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

“Why? What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he breathes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand.”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, guys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

“You missed it.”

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

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

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

“She? It could be a boy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, is everything okay?”

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

“I’m on my way!”

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

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

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

“O-okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yeah.”

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

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

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

“Yeah.”

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

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

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

“Oh, she’s not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kinda weird, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be great, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is everything okay?”

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

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

“Where have you been?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is not what happened at all!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist  

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2

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

[yeonzzzn]

numbers up: sim jaeyun

part three of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 15.3k

synopsis: with the imposter ghost face on the loose and your life being threatened, jake makes preparations to keep you safe and track down the copycat. you also make preparations with the heads of the film and investigation departments to bring down the imposter. trust no one and remember…everyone is a suspect.

genre: established relationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.

warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane (as always), blood & m*rder, dry humping, reader gets stabbed, multiple unprotected sex scenes, shower sex, hair pulling, if I missed everything please let me know!

You’ve never seen Jake this paranoid before, or well, paranoid ever. Paranoia wasn’t an emotion Jake had ever had to feel and deal with, that was until you. Until this copycat ghost face made threats to your life and drove Jake to hold you close and always double-check over his shoulder. 

That phone call made Jake scared—truly, genuinely, scared. Which was another emotion he’d never felt. Jake usually lived on the thrill of it all. The thrill of someday being caught by law enforcement. The thrill of someone finding out his identity and challenging him. But he has you now. You changed everything. 

Which drove him to make this decision. To move himself and you across town into another apartment, leaving everything behind. 

You sat on the brand new couch you and Jake just finished moving up the stairs and into your new apartment, looking up at him on the ladder he stood on, drilling the new security system and camera into the corner of the living room. 

Your eyes wandered around your new home, to all the boxes and new furniture and new bags of clothing. You thought Jake was joking when he mentioned moving out and leaving every single thing in your old apartment behind. He clearly wasn’t. 

Jake paid for everything, the new lease for this apartment. Bought you and him new phones that had new numbers on a completely different phone plan than your previous ones. New bank accounts. New laptops, new emails, and new tablets. Books, journals, clothes, cameras, watches, literally everything. Jake even ditched his previous car and got a new one. Jake’s paranoia wasn’t a joke, and he fully went through with everything. 

He even tried to convince you to move into another town, hell a new country even, but you refused. The two of you were way too close to finishing your majors to just up and leave. You had duties here, the major one being to catch the imposter ghost face. It surprised you at the desperation Jake had to up and leave this life behind, all in the name of keeping you safe. 

Jake glanced down at you for a split second, seeing how you took in the new apartment. The blank stare on your face as you looked over every inch of this place. It hurt Jake, honestly. Up and dropping his old life wasn’t easy on him either. But it was all for you. For you, he’d do anything. That’s why he buckled and agreed to stay at the same college and town. He truly wanted to catch the imposter as much as you, but nothing was more important than keeping you alive. Keeping that pretty blood of yours flowing through your veins and keeping that heart beating. Jake wouldn’t know what he would do if something happened to you, and he honestly didn’t want to find out. 

He finished screwing in the last screw of the new security system and let out a sigh. He glanced back down at you to already see you staring back up at him, “What’s up, honey?” 

You softly pouted, debating if you wanted to ask the question that’s been making circles in your brain, “Where did you get all this money from? To do all this?” guess you decided to ask it anyway. 

Jake leaned on the ladder, smirking down at you, “I’m a serial killer, baby, you think I didn’t save money up in case something like this happened?” 

You figured that was what his answer would be and you didn’t want to admit you were terrified that he went and robbed a bank or random people. Or stolen from his victims. Jake did have a job, way before you even met him. He saved up every penny from each paycheck into a savings account that wasn’t connected to his main account and was under a different name. Jake wasn’t stupid to keep all his money in his main account. It would raise way too many red flags. That account wasn’t just his money from his job, but from earnings he got growing up. Money from birthdays or when his parents felt like handing him money. He would use some of that money to donate to charity, to make that bank account look less suspicious. 

You shrugged up at him, and made yourself comfy on the couch, laying down and stretching out. Jake climbed down from the ladder and walked to your side, “What are you thinking about, my love?” 

You sighed, staring into those beautiful brown killer eyes, “That I want to catch whoever is making our lives difficult.” 

Jake smiled, climbing onto the couch and laying on top of you, nuzzling his face in your neck, “We’ll catch them, don’t worry baby,” he placed a few kisses to your neck, his hand slowly sliding up your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin, “And once we do, we’ll have a guaranteed spot in our respective fields after graduation.” 

You knew he was right. If the two of you managed to catch the imposter you would no doubt have no problems getting your detective jobs. It would be so easy and the town would be stupid to not give you and Jake those positions. You sigh then, realizing that once the imposter is caught, they would be trialed for every crime they have committed—including Jake’s. 

Jake and you never discussed it, about what would happen to whoever it was behind the ghost face mask and what crimes they would go to trial for. But deep down, you knew they would take the hit for both theirs and Jake’s. It only made sense. You refused to let Jake go down. You needed him. You’d…kill for him. 

His kisses on your neck deepened, his teeth nibbling at the skin and tongue licking up your neck. His hand now made its way up to your breast, squeezing the plush between his fingers. 

You softly moaned, tilting your head to give him more access to you. Your eyes fluttered closed and back open, spotting Jake’s duffle bag in the corner of the kitchen. 

“Thought you were going to get rid of that?” you asked with a shaky breath, too deep in the pleasure of his touch to sound serious. 

Jake chucked against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps and chills down your body, “I will tonight baby,” he pressed his hips to yours, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your heat. He removed his face from your neck and brushed his lips against yours,  “How about we stop talking and break into the new couch, shall we?” His hand slid from your breast to the band of your shorts, slipping his hand inside, “Have to make sure the couch won’t break from how hard I am about to pound into you.” 

You pushed his duffle bag off to the back of your mind and embraced his lips to yours. 

Needless to say, the couch indeed held up from the rough sex Jake gave you. 

—

Jake dropped the duffle bag to the ground with a sigh leaving his mouth. He pulled the matches from his back pocket, debating if this was something he even wanted to do. But it wasn’t up for debate, he knew it. This was for you. All for you and the future he wants and will have with you. 

Plus he didn’t travel out to this small shitty countryside town for nothing. 

Jake has traveled here before to take care of some…things. He knew the town and knew how easily he could slip in and out without a trace. 

The town had a small farmer's market and an alleyway where they kept barrels of hay to sell to customers for their farm animals. Jake was in luck to see one was still here and had enough hay in it to catch fire. 

He pulled a match from the box, striking the red tip to the side, watching how the flames rose and lit up the alleyway then tossed it into the barrel. It didn’t take long for the fire to spread. 

Jake looked back down at the duffle, kneeling down and opening the bag, his ghost face mask staring right back at him. He smirked, rubbing his fingers over the curves of the mask, “It’s been a hell of a ride.” 

Without another thought, Jake tossed the black cloak, gloves, and then the duffle bag into the barrel. He took one final look at the mask before tossing it in. 

Jake didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the barrel, watching the flames tear a part of him into pieces. He wasn’t sad, no no, he stood there with a smirk on his wash, watching how the white of the mask burnt and crumbled away. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his crazy smile only growing wider. 

He finally walked away, feeling the heat of the fire against his back, “I’ve always loved playing with fire.” 

—

“Absolutely not!” Jake said with a stern voice, his eyes glaring at you over the top of his laptop. 

You shift your weight to one side, crossing your arms, “You know I am the head of the journalism department, right?” 

Jake raises a brow at you, “Okay, and?” 

You thin your lips in a line, narrowing your eyes, “Excuse you?” 

Danielle sat diagonally from Jake to his left, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between the two of you, “I hate seeing mom and dad fight…” she whispered before standing up quickly, “I’m going to head to my next class…” without another word, Danielle slowly walked out of the office. 

Jake waited until the door fully closed before darting his eyes back to his laptop screen, “I said no, end of discussion.” 

You understood Jake’s worry, you really did. But without the other department's help, you wouldn’t catch the imposter. Earlier this morning, the dean of your college sent you an offer to pair up with the film and investigation departments to cover more ground for the ghost face cases. It would benefit you to have that help so it’s not just on your and Jake’s shoulders. Mostly with the recent cases. 

The imposter went on a killing spree over the course of a week, killing six students on campus, and two random strangers on the street on the edge of town. That’s EIGHT victims within a WEEK. What made these cases so major was the imposter started leaving specific items at each crime scene, clearly in a way to taunt Jake. Another ghost face mask was found at one scene, then a glove at another. The cloak was found at the next crime. A pair of bloody shoes at the next, the exact same knife type Jake has used was found at another. Then another ghost face mask. The other crimes were repeats of gloves and other items. The case was growing bigger and becoming too much for just you and Jake to handle, so when the dean gave you that offer…

“Well, I already said yes, so…” you hummed, not taking your eyes off your boyfriend. 

Jake chuckled, “Well, again, I said no. Cancel it, tell them you changed your mind,” He didn’t look up from the screen, typing something. You roll your eyes, slamming the laptop closed. Jake glared at you, “You’re on thin ice, honey.” 

You placed your hands flat on the table, leaning towards him but still being far enough away, “I run this department and you’ll deal with this choice whether you like it or not, understand?” he narrowed his eyes at you, “And you can look at me like that all you want, I’m not scared of you Jake.” 

You lifted yourself off from the table, barely turning to face away from him before he was on his feet and in front of you, hands on your waist and lifting you onto the table. He pushed between your legs and brushed his lips against your ear, his hands now flat on the table on either side of you, “It turns me on when you talk like that to me, baby,” he rubbed his nose against the shell of your ear, “It’s so fucking hot when you put me in my place.” 

He kisses your neck, one hand lifting to the other side to tilt your head, giving him more access, “It’s all true though,” you mumble, barely being able to get the words out. 

Jake chuckles against your skin, pressing his growing hard length to your cunt, “I could kill you at any moment, honey, don’t forget who I am.” 

You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so he can look at you, “You wouldn’t,” you smirked, moving your face inches away from his, noses touching, “I don’t care who you are, Jake Sim, you can’t live without me.” 

Jake smirks, pushing his tongue past his lips and licking a stripe against yours then taking your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft pull before releasing it. It was true, he couldn’t live without you. “Keep running your pretty mouth and I’ll take you right here on this table.” He bucked his hips against yours, brushing his lips over yours, “I’d fuck you so nice and slow and hard,” he whispered then connected his lips to yours. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but Jake had pulled you to the edge of the table, rocking his clothed hard cock against your heat in a slow but hard motion, his hands running up and down your back as his tongue pressed in and out of your mouth. Jake was so ready to unbuckle his belt and tear your jeans apart to feel that sweet pussy of yours wrapped around him, that was until a knock on the door sounded, and the door was opening. 

Jake dropped his face into your neck, backing his lower half away from you and releasing a groan, “Did I interrupt something?” 

You quickly push Jake away and drop to the floor, “No, Jay. Everything is fine.” 

Jay stood in the crack of the door, his laptop in hand, eyes darting over to Jake, “Nice seeing you again, Sim.” 

“Woof.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, looking away from him and back at you, “Put your dog on a leash, ya?” 

Jake took a few steps forward but you stepped in front of you, “Jake, we aren’t doing this,” you snapped, “Sit down, please.” Jake didn’t take his eyes off Jay as he pulled the chair out and sat down. 

Jay smirked, letting a whistle escape his lips in a way of saying “Good dog.” Jake wanted to growl and bare his teeth and bark, showing him what kind of dog Jake could really be. 

“Please, come in,” you said, waving your hand to the free seats, “Is Jungwon coming too?” 

Jay was the head of the film department. His team mostly covered sports and weather, but occasionally would show up and film crimes, sending your department the footage later to write the articles and publish both to the campus’s website. Jungwon, Jay’s second, as if on command, popped out from behind him, carrying their camera, “I’m here, just fell behind.” You could tell the younger was nervous, giving him a small smile as he walked in and set the camera on the table. 

Jake kept his eyes on Jay, studying his every movement. Not liking the way the blonde-haired male would look and smile at you. Jake was against teaming up with the other departments for more than just not wanting Jay around you. He didn’t trust him. Or anyone, for that matter. Jake didn’t care if having extra people around made finding the imposter easier, having these people around put you in danger. 

You pinched Jake’s bicep, giving him a look to behave and relax. Jake just shrugs, leaning back in the chair and wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to him, resting his head on your hip. You ruffled his hair, loving how cute he looked as he scrunched his nose and batted your head out of his hair, fixing what you messed up. It still amazed you how this man was a serial killer. This soft puppy sitting in front of you was secretly insane and committed so many murders but was so soft when it came to you. It was cute, truly. 

Another knock and the door slowly slid open, “Am I late to the party?” 

You smiled, “Nope! Just in time.” 

Heeseung slowly walked into the room, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Good, was worried I might be.” 

Lee Heeseung, the head of the investigation department. The poor guy was appointed the department head because the previous one was murdered last week…a victim of the imposter. You’ve met Heeseung a couple of times before, or well, have seen him a couple of times before. Anytime you went to the investigation office for results or photos of the crimes he always sat in the back with his lab coat and goggles over his glasses, as he worked on pieces of evidence the police department let the school borrow. 

You could tell he was also nervous, but he had plenty of reasons to be. One was the daggers Jake was sending at him, second, the man was just appointed the department head after his was murdered, and lastly, this was his first major job as the head, having to completely take over the ghost face case and deal with you and Jay on top of it. 

Heeseung sat down across from you and beside Jay, running a hand through his hair, “Sunoo should be here soon, he was printing off some extra photos from the murders a few days ago.” 

You nodded, finally sitting down beside Jake, “It’s nice to finally talk to you,” you said, leaning your elbows onto the table, “You were always so busy in your little corner anytime I was on that side of the campus.”

Heeseung smiled, “Yeah, I’m in my own little world sometimes. You could probably have imagined my surprise when I was picked to fill in the shoes. I basically had to beg Sunoo to be my second for these cases.” 

Sunoo you’ve worked with a few times before, he was shy but such a beautiful ray of sunshine. Had a sparkling personality and always brightened the room with his smile. He was super smart and would make a killer investigator one day. 

Jake listened as you, Jay, Jungwon, and Heeseung spoke back and forth. Eyeing their movements and facial expressions, noticing how Jay and Heeseung kept their eyes on you a little too long. Jake knew you were the department head and they were more than likely just being respectful, but Jake couldn’t forget the crush Jay has on you, or clock out Heeseung was basically undressing you with his eyes. 

Or maybe Jake was just getting jealous he had to share you with other people. That was probably it. 

Sunoo finally showed up, handing everyone their own folders of the photos. Jay opened his laptop up, connected the camera then blue toothing the laptop to the projector in the office to show footage they’ve taken along with footage from the security cameras around campus. You passed along articles and pulled the corkboard out. 

Hours passed as the six of you discussed the cases and exchanged information each department had. It surprised you how calm Jake was for the most part. Only getting sassy during specific topics. Jake was all-knowing of ghost face for his specific cases, knowing next to nothing about the imposter. 

The meeting finally came to an end and you were very much ready to go home and take a warm shower. 

Jake and Jay sat at the table still discussing one of the murders, meanwhile, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung prepared to leave. 

You held the door open for them, thanking Jungwon and Sunoo for attending, ready to do the same for Heeseung but he stopped in front of you. Jake clocked it immediately. 

“Thank you for welcoming us into your space,” Heeseung said with a tilt of his head, “It was finally nice getting to work with you.” Heeseung was trying to keep himself calm, shoving his hands into his pockets so you wouldn’t see how badly he was shaking. He found you extremely cute and incredibly smart. He was blown away at today's meeting because of you. 

“Likewise,” you smiled at him, “Hopefully this partnership does all of us some good and we catch this ghost face.” 

Heeseung pushed his glasses back up, “We are the department heads for a reason, we’ll catch them.” 

Jay noticed how clocked out Jake was, pulling his eyes over to you and Heeseung, “You going to bark at him like you did to me?” Jay teased. 

“Just might fuck her in front of both of you so you’ll be reminded who she belongs to.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “She’s allowed to have friends, you know.” 

Yeah, she is, just not friends with males who want to fuck her and look at her like I do. Only I can look at her like that. Only I can fuck her. Point blank. 

Jay signed, crossing his arms, “Listen, Heeseung is a good guy, a little shy, but he’s new to this, don’t bark at him.” 

Jake patted Jay’s shoulder, “Okay, buddy,” and with that, Jake was walking towards you. 

Heeseung pulled his phone from his back pocket, “I was thinking since we are all working together, we can exchange phone numbers,” he smiled awkwardly, his glasses falling down his nose and him quickly pushing them up, “We can have a group chat as well.” 

Before you could answer, Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him, “We don’t exchange numbers.” 

Right…because you both had to get new phone numbers. No one had your new numbers, not even Sunghoon. “Everyone is a suspect,” Jake said once you got your new phones, “trust no one.” 

Heeseung glanced over at Jake, “I’m n-not trying to steal her or anything,” he stuttered, “I just figured it would be easier for us to contact each other so we aren’t running across campus.” 

Jake smiled, “We can exchange school emails and our school chat IDs, that should be good enough, ya?” 

Heeseung looked at you and all you could do was shrug, apologizing with your eyes. 

“Jay,” Jake called, “Come over here, the four of us are going to exchange chat IDs.” 

You knew Jake was doing this to protect you and him. He wasn’t going to just hand over your phone numbers that easily. He was playing smart, having to be one step ahead in this game he’s playing with the imposter. The chat IDs were Jake’s only plan to not make it seem suspicious completely, mostly since the IDs were from the college and connected to the college emails. Your numbers were safe.  

You all exchanged the IDs and made the group chat, Jay saying he’d add Jungwon later and Heeseung agreeing to the same for Sunoo. 

Once the boys left, Jake slid the door closed and locked it, staring at you with hooded eyes, “I’m fucking you on this table like I said earlier.” 

You giggled as Jake picked you up in his arms and laid you down on the table. Jealousy was cute on him. 

—

You tied red strings around the pushpins on the corkboard and then took a few steps back, resting your body against the kitchen counter. You crossed your arms and let your eyes wander the board. Stopping at each photo of the imposter's crime scenes, and at each item they have left. Looked at the school’s articles and the official news articles that were pinned by each photo. Your laptop sat on the kitchen table, replaying the videos Jay filmed and was kind enough to send to you. 

Trying to wrap your mind around these cases was making your brain hurt. Mostly since Jake was stuck at soccer practice for the next couple of hours, you’ve been taking this head on by yourself. 

You rubbed your fingers to your temples, needing a much-needed break. So you splash some water on your face from the kitchen sink and gently dab your face with a towel. You pulled a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, sat on the couch, and propped your feet onto the coffee table. The apartment was quiet and you honestly hated it, wishing Jake’s laughter was echoing off these walls. Jake hasn’t left your side since all this bullshit started happening and the only time he wasn’t with you was his soccer practice. You always offered to go with him and sit in the bleachers, but he always refused. Mostly because he wouldn’t be able to completely focus. He barely was able to focus when you were at the apartment alone, but he knew you’d at least be safer there than at the campus. You’re just instructed to not leave the apartment at all if he wasn’t with you. Which was fair. Jake was able to hold his own because ya know, being a serial killer and all. But you? You were barely a challenge for Jake when he had you pinned to the floor and a knife to your throat after you figured out he was the ghost face. You could barely dominate Jake in the bedroom, he could hold his own. You?? Ehh.

You finished the apple and water, threw away the trash, and got back to work. You sat at the table, flipping through more photos Heeseung sent over and rereading some of the articles Danielle had written. The more you look over everything, the more your brain hurts and that small break did nothing. You sigh, reaching for your backpack in the chair beside you, digging for the documents and articles Jake has created and written, only to not find them there. 

“That’s fantastic,”  you mumbled, standing from the table and walking to the bedroom, finding Jake’s backpack on the floor by the closet. You bent down and opened it up, digging through his textbooks and folders but not finding the one you were looking for, “Fuck!” you sat on the floor, covering your face with your hands, “This is so fantastic.” 

You wanted to call your boyfriend, but you knew he was busy with practice and wouldn’t answer. But you doubt he would even have the articles to begin with. You shot back to his backpack, thinking hopefully his laptop would be in there and sure enough, it wasn’t. Meaning he left it in the office on campus, where the extra copies of the articles would more than likely be. You debate leaving the apartment, knowing you shouldn’t and Jake would be pissed off if he finds out…but he would be gone for hours and wouldn’t even know you left unless he checks the camera footage in the apartment. You tuck your lip between your teeth, ultimately deciding to leave. You’d be there and back before Jake even returned home. 

You slipped on your shoes and threw on a hoodie, pulling the hood tightly and comfortably over your head and double checking the door was locked before rushing down the stairs and making your way to campus. Thankfully it wasn’t a far walk. 

You quickly made it to the campus, unlocking the door to the office and closing it behind you. The campus was empty and quiet, being that it was the weekend. Made it perfectly for you to slip in and out quicker. Jake’s laptop sat on the table in his spot, just like you figured it would be along with the folder of the copies sitting on top of it. You grabbed both and hurried back out of the office, locking the doors. 

You made it to the first floor of the building when your phone started ringing. Your heart sank. He’s going to be so mad. You pulled your phone from your shorts pocket, expecting to see Jake’s name on the screen but instead seeing Unknown Caller. You tucked your lip between your teeth, locking the phone to ignore it. It’s probably just some spam call. You walked out of the building's doors, your phone ringing and the same caller ID popping up. 

You looked around the campus, not seeing anyone in sight. You dismiss the call, taking two steps down and your phone rings again with the same ID. You quickly dismiss it and with shaky hands, you dial Jake’s number. 

The caller you are trying to reach is unavaila—

“Shit!” you curse, redialing the number and getting the same message. 

Fear filled you, hands trembling as you stared at your boyfriend's number then the screen showing the ID calling again. 

You locked your phone and quickly went down the rest of the steps, making it halfway away from the building and parking lot when your phone once again rang. You stopped walking, looked around the campus, and finally answered the phone. 

“Hello, YN,”

You gripped your phone as it was pressed to your ear, “Hello, imposter.” 

“It’s been a while since I last spoke to Jake.” they chuckled, “I wonder why that is?”

“Yeah, crazy.” you whipped around behind you, looking back at the building you came from, then turned back towards the parking lot and looked at the buildings beyond it. 

“Isn’t it rude to change your numbers without telling anyone? Jake must have been desperate. Mostly after the very attractive photos I’ve taken of you at your…old apartment.” 

You swallowed. Whoever this was, they knew your numbers had changed and that you moved. You kept looking around, trying to find anyone near only to find no one. 

“What do you want?” you asked, starting to quickly walk again. 

“Like I told Jake, you’ll know soon enough.” 

You scoff, picking up your pace. 

“Where are you going in such a hurry, YN?” You stopped walking again, heart nearly stopping, “Don’t you know it’s rude…” 

You had a bad feeling, body shaking and trembling, “Rude that what?” you asked, but then the line hung up. 

You barely had time to realize what was about to happen. They had their arm wrapped around your neck and their knife piercing the skin at your waist just above your rib cage. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to walk away when someone is speaking to you?” 

You tilted your head to the side and up, seeing the ghost face mask you were all too familiar with. 

You swallowed again, trying to form words but nothing came out but gasps. 

Jake slouched against the bleachers, taking his towel and wiping the sweat from his face and hair. Sunghoon sat down beside him, “Practice was hell today.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “I’m ready to go home.” 

Sunghoon glanced over at his best friend, “You still not going to tell me where you both moved off to? Or your new number?”

Jake sat still, not looking at his friend, “I have my reasons.” 

Sunghoon moved closer, “Did something happen? Jake, this isn’t like you.” 

Jake wanted to snap at him that he didn’t know anything about him besides what Jake allowed him to see. He loved Sunghoon, truly did. But with the imposter…he couldn’t trust anyone. Not when his girlfriend's life was on the line. 

“Let’s just say it’s a long story, one you’ll know soon enough.” Jake hoped he would accept it and leave it alone. And thank god he did. 

Sunghoon sighed and just stood up, “Time to head home, see ya tomorrow?” 

Jake stands up too, reaching out for his friend's hand, “Yep, see ya at the skating rink at two pm.” 

Sunghoon took his hand, “Make sure YN joins too!” he said as he walked away. 

Jake nodded and picked up his bag, heading for the changing room. 

Once he was out of his sweaty soccer clothes and cleaned himself and in cleaner clothes, he left the locker room, finally pulling his phone from his duffle, seeing your few missed calls. Jake waited until he was in his car and heading back home before calling you back. The line didn’t even ring and went straight to voicemail. Jake raised a brow, “Okay, weird.” He redialled your number, and it once again went straight to voicemail. 

Jake at this point was parked at the apartment, calling you one more time, it rang twice and then ended. Jake quickly got out of the car and ran up the stairs, stumbling with his keys to unlock the door and stepping inside. 

“YN!” he yelled, seeing the apartment in one piece and no sign of forced entry. He rushed to the bedroom, still not seeing you. “YN!!” he shouted, still no answer. 

Jake was starting to panic. It wasn’t like you to ignore his calls. To leave without telling him or to even just leave. He paced around the living room, pulling up the camera footage on his phone, and seeing you leave the apartment. 

“Goddamn this woman!” he bite his tongue, redialing your number once again, “Fucking pick up…please god let her pick up…” 

Your phone rang again, and you didn’t have to look at it to know it was Jake. 

“Kind of rude to keep ignoring your boyfriend’s calls, isn’t it? Answer it.” 

You took a deep breath, feeling your knees going weak, continuing to ignore the imposter. 

“I said fucking answer it!” he yelled into your ear, pushing the knife in further. 

You grunted out in pain, praying someone was on campus to witness what was happening to you. It was broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon, where was everyone? 

You didn’t want to answer the call. Didn’t want Jake to hear what he was about to. Didn’t want the imposter to kill you and have Jake hear it. You knew what Jake would do… 

The imposter hisses and pulls your back to their chest, removing their arm from your neck and reaching for your phone, accepting the call and putting it on speaker. 

Jake nearly dropped to his knees at hearing the call answer, “YN!” he snapped, “Where the fuck are you?!” 

“Hello, Jake.” 

Jake’s heart stopped, almost stumbling to the floor before catching himself on the kitchen counter, jaw clenching at the sound of the voice changer, “Where is she?” 

The imposter chuckled, “Right here in front of me, say hi, honey,” 

Jake tensed at hearing the imposter use the pet name he’d given you, using it as a taunt. 

“It’s rude to not say hello to your boyfriend, don’t you think?” 

They pushed the knife in further, you gasped in pain. 

Jake was already out the door at the sound of your pained gasp, “I swear to god if you—“ 

“If I what, Jake Sim?” he taunted, “If I kill her? What will you do?” 

Jake ran a head through his hair, “I’ll fucking kill you myself.” 

They laughed, “Sounds about right coming from a serial killer.” 

Your moans filled Jake’s ears, the way you were gasping for air…he needed to get to you. Jake placed the call on speaker and with shaky hands opened the app he installed to find your location, “That makes two of us doesn’t it?” he said, stalling time to find your location, finally pinpointing you at the school. 

“I know you’re stalling, Jake,” they whispered, “To find our location.” 

Jake snarled, “What do you want?” 

Silence, and then, “To see you suffer.” 

They pulled the knife out of your side and shoved it back in, creating another wound. Your cries filled Jake’s ear and now he was sprinting to the school. 

Your body was shaking, feeling your blood pool out of your skin and down your body and to the sidewalk, “You look even prettier with your blood leaking out,” they laughed, “Jake might be too late.” 

Jake ran faster, “Leave her alone!” he screamed completely out of breath. 

“Goodbye, Jake Sim.” 

Then the call ended. 

The imposter tossed your phone off to the side, twisting the knife deeper, pulling it out and back in, making another wound. 

Your hands became weak, letting go of the laptop and folder in your hand, dropping to the ground beside you. Your head flung forward, too dizzy from your blood loss to stay upright anymore. You barely felt the knife being removed from your body and their hands letting you go. 

You fell, your temple hitting the edge of the sidewalk, blurring your vision even more. The imposter knelt beside you, lifting the knife and wiping your blood on their cloak, the black sleeve falling down, revealing a watch at their wrist. They chuckled, staring at the now clean knife, “It was fun, YN, this time we spent together today.” You stared at the mask through your blurred vision, watching as they stood and walked away. Leaving you to bleed out. 

You blinked a couple of times, too weak to try and move, eyes looking up at the blue sky. This was it. This was your end. You thought about Jake and how you wanted to feel his touch, hear his voice. Kiss his lips for the last time. You felt your heart slowing down. It would be any minute now. 

“YN!!” you heard from a distance but muffled. “YN!!” it was closer now, still muffled. You closed your eyes and then felt hands on you, “YN, baby, please open your eyes.” 

It was Jake. He was here. 

You forced your eyes open, barely being able to keep them open for long, but it was enough to see him leaning over you, tears filling his eyes. 

Jake pulled you off the sidewalk and into his arms, resting your head on his chest, panicking at the wound on your head, “Oh my god, baby, please speak to me, keep your eyes open.” His warm hand wiped the dripping blood from your face, starting to rock back and forth, “YN, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay baby? Say something to me. I am right here.” 

You fluttered your eyes open, but closed them again, opening your mouth to speak, but only gasps coming out. 

Jake saw your blood staining your hoodie, carefully lifting the fabric to see three stab wounds and the blood that continued to pool out. Jake pressed his hand to the wounds as hard as he could, feeling you jolt against him, “Shh, I know baby,” he cried, the tears finally falling, panic rising more and his rocks becoming faster, “I am so sorry my love, please stay with me. Hey, open your eyes please, YN. I can’t live without you, please.” You were fading, you knew it. Jake’s cries became more muffled and everything went black. 

— 

Your eyes fluttered open, the sounds of a heart monitor echoing in what you were assuming was a hospital room. The last thing you remembered was hearing Jake’s screams before passing out. You looked down at your body, seeing all the IVs connecting to the veins in your arms and the hospital band around your wrist. You looked to your right, seeing the hospital door boarded up with chairs. You looked to your left, seeing Jake sleeping soundly against your bed in the chair he pulled up close. His hair had fallen over his eyes, lips parted slightly, hearing his breathing. One hand rested on your thigh, and the other was under his head. 

You swallowed, feeling how dry your throat was. You tried to sit up, but Jake felt you shift on the bed, waking him up. He slowly sat up and stood to his feet, standing closer to you and cupping your face, “YN, honey, how are you feeling?” 

You blinked a few times, once again trying to sit up, “I’m thirsty,” you said, struggling to speak. 

“Here, hold onto me so we can sit you up, okay?” Jake rested his hands under her arms and you gripped onto the sleeves of his shirt, pulling as he used his strength to help you shift up, “Be careful,” he whispered. 

Once you were sitting up, Jake helped balance you so he could raise the head of the bed and then help you lean back. He adjusted your pillows helping you feel more comfortable. 

“Thirsty,” you said with a raspy voice. 

Jake nodded, cupping your face once again, and rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. His eyes glossed over, trying hard to not let the tears fall again, you were okay. You were safe and alive and breathing. You were here with him. He glanced up at the bandage atop your head, “Does your head hurt?” 

You nodded, the pain in your head and your waist fully kicking in, “Both do.” 

Jake placed a kiss on your forehead then went to the bedside table, grabbing the bottled water and the pain meds the doctors said to give you once you woke up, “Here, my love.” 

He handed you the meds and water. You swallowed to the best of your ability and chugged down the water, handing the bottle back to him. He set it back to the table and sat back down in the chair, pulling it closer. 

You stared back at him, watching as he reached for your hand, his fingers twisting at each of yours, before finally clasping his hand with yours, the other covering the top of your hand, “What do you remember?” he softly asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. 

“Everything,” you sighed, looking away from him and to the door, “Was that necessary?” 

“Of course it was,” he scoffed, “I’m not risking you getting hurt again. Trust no one.” 

You tilted your head at your boyfriend, reaching up with your free hand and cupping his face. Jake leaned into your touch, eyes getting glossy again. 

“I was scared I lost you.” Jake didn’t ever want to feel what he felt ever again. Seeing you almost lifeless on the sidewalk, your skin cold and your blood staining the grass and concrete. He screamed as loud as he could until finally another student came out of nowhere and called an ambulance. He didn’t leave your side. He paced the halls back and forth at your room until the doctors came out saying you were stable and your wounds were stitched up and bandaged. “I don’t want to ever go through that again.” 

You slid your hand down to his shirt collar, pulling him towards you, or well attempting to. You were still too weak, but Jake knew what you wanted. So he carefully stood and inched his face closer to yours, pressing his lips to yours. 

He kissed you a couple more times, then sat back down, “What were you doing at the campus?” he finally asked, “I told you to stay home.” 

You softly smiled, “I wanted to get your laptop and the articles you wrote.” 

Jake sighed, looking down at the bed, “Baby, I had a flash drive at home in the drawer.” 

You felt stupid, not even thinking he had other backups, “I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. 

“Shhh, no,” he said, cupping your face, “Don’t cry, it's okay, I am not mad. I was worried about you.” Jake was more than worried. He was terrified. He didn’t know what he would have done if he found you dead. He’d probably hunt down the imposter, get revenge for what he did to you, and then kill himself. This world wasn’t worth living in if you weren’t living in it. 

You leaned into his face, kissing the palm of his hand, “I shouldn’t have left.” 

Jake just smiles at you, “Tell me everything that happened, from start to finish.” 

So you did. Giving him every detail possible. 

—

“YN,” Jake sighs, pushing your hands off him, “You need rest.” 

All Jake did was come into the bedroom to check on you and give you the pain meds the doctors prescribed to you and you didn’t waste a chance to jump his bones. 

You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes and pouting. Jake smiles and tilts his head at you, “Stop pouting and take your meds.” 

It’s been a week since the incident. A week of laying in this bed and Jake taking care of you while also doing what he could to piece together and solve the imposter ghost face cases. The imposter has been quiet since you encountered him, no phone calls to either yours or Jake’s phone, or even any more murders. Whoever they were, they weren’t radio silent. 

Except for Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jay of course. Sunghoon arrived at the hospital after hearing the rumors being spread around campus of Jake crying and screaming for help because you were hurt. Heeseung and Jay spammed the group chats you all had for the investigation, asking if you needed anything and of course Jake answering for you saying no. 

Sunghoon now officially knew where the two of you lived, Jake forcing—and threatening—him to keep his mouth about the location of the apartment and to never come over unless he was told to. Sunghoon finally understood now why Jake was being the way he was, all to protect you. 

“I’ve been resting for a week,” you scoffed with a click of your tongue, “I can walk perfectly fine and even use the bathroom and shower on my own.” 

Jake blankly stares back at you, refusing to answer until you take the water and medicine from his hand. So you did, swallowing the pills down with the water. You set the water bottle down on the nightstand, glaring at him. 

He glared back, “If I give you a kiss will you rest?” 

You relaxed your face and nodded. To say you’re deprived of sex would be…silly to say in the least. Jake normally fucked you any chance he could get. But after you got hurt…he didn’t want to risk hurting you or your stitches coming out. He’s told you this, but the more time that passes, the more you crave him. 

Jake sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down and connecting your lips together. Jake held your lips a bit longer, giving you a few more kisses then slowly standing up. You sat up reaching your hands for his shoulders and pulling yourself to your knees and reconnecting your lips to his, pressing your body to his chest. 

“YN,” he said between kisses, hovering his hands over your hips and then shoving you back down to the bed. He was quick to put his hands on your shoulders and push you back down in a lying position. He kept his hand on your shoulders as you glared up at him. Jake wanted to fuck you, oh how badly he wanted to fuck you. He was tired of fucking his cock with his fist the past week, but you needed rest. At least until your stitches were safe to be removed. But that still didn’t stop you from trying to fight against the hold he had on your shoulders. 

“YN,” he sighs, “You’re fucking insane,” he slowly removed his hands from your shoulders, “You were stabbed three times and hit your head, stay the fuck down.” 

Hmmm. Nah. 

You grabbed him by his shirt collar, using your slow returning strength, and pulled him down onto the bed and climbed into his lap, “Funny how you call me insane,” you start to tease him, removing your shirt from your body, exposing your bare chest, “When you’re literally a serial killer.” 

Jake was hard. His hands settled onto your hips and looping his fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, “You’re dating a serial killer, my love. Doesn’t that make you just as insane as me?” 

“What makes you insane,” you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt and lifting the clothing up, “Is not giving your insane girlfriend what she wants,” you pulled his shirt off his body, running your hands down his broad chest and abs, stopping at the waistband of his shorts. You brush your lips against his, watching how lustful his expression was becoming, “Fuck me, Jake.” 

Jake tore his fingers into your panties, tearing them in half and tossing them to the floor, “Lift up for me, baby.” 

You held onto his shoulder as you lifted yourself up, your breasts now eye level with his face. Jake leaned forward, placing his face between your breasts, kissing them down the middle, his hands cupping them, squeezing them to his face, and taking your skin between his teeth and sucking gently, slowly working his way to your nipple and taking it in his mouth. He sucked on the sensitive nub, hands flying to his shorts and pulling them off him. Jake bit your nipple and pulled slowly, letting it slip from his teeth. He reattached his lips to it, licking and giving it one final kiss before looking up at you, “I need you on my cock, honey.” 

Jake lined his tip to your entrance, one hand on your hip as you slowly slid down him. 

“Fuck,” Jake breathes, resting his head on your shoulder as his tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you feel so good.” 

A week without your pussy was a week too long and it took everything in Jake to not fuck his hips up into you, letting you completely take control. 

You started off slow, letting yourself adjust to his size and working up your speed. His cock felt so fucking good rubbing against your walls. You’ve craved this, craved him and his touch. You were already losing yourself on his dick, bouncing on him as if it were the last time. 

“Jake,” you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Oh, fuck, Jae.” 

He bit his lip, flinging his head back and squeezing your thighs, using every ounce of self-control he had to not fuck you senseless, “Fuck, baby,” he moans, “Keep going, oh fuck please keep fucking yourself on my cock.” 

You bounced faster, his tip hitting all the right spots. 

Jake groaned, sliding his hands carefully to your waist, trying to be gentle to not irritate your wounds more than what they probably already were. He was starting to lose himself to your cunt, becoming a moaning mess each time you clench around him, “YN, I’m going to cum if you keep clenching me like that, honey.”

You kept moving, sliding up and down, up and down, rocking your hips as fast as you could go to chase your climax, “I wa-wanna cum,” you gasp, legs getting tired but still pushing nevertheless. 

“Yeah?” Jake whispered, wrapping his arm carefully around your waist, “Baby wants to cum?” You nod, biting your lip. Jake pressed you to him, flipping you over and lying you down on your back, “I’ll make you cum, honey, make you feel so fucking good.” 

You gasped as he fucked into you, using his knees to push your legs further apart, giving him more access. 

You dug your nails into his back, moaning his name repeatedly each time his tip hit your g-spot. You are nearly a second away from cumming. Jake pistoned his hips against yours, hands gripping the bed sheets between his fingers, “Cum for me baby, let it go.” 

Jake thrust hard into you, pushing his cock as far as it could go the moment he felt your cum wrap around his cock, “Jae,” you breathed running your hands up into his hair, “Jaeyun.” 

He kept pushing into you, groaning when he finally pulled out and pushed back in, rocking his hips so fast, “Going to fill this pussy so full of my cum,” he places his lips onto yours, “Fuck, going to cum so deep in this cunt.” 

Jake’s movements got sloppy, breathing becoming uneven as he kept his lips pressed to yours. Jake wanted to cum so bad, it’s been a week since he’s been able to pump his load into your sweet cunt, to feel you clench around him at the feeling of his cum filling you whole. Oh, he couldn’t wait, knowing he could burst at any moment…

“I’m cumming, oh fuck I’m cumming,” he moans against your lips, thrusting a final time and painting your walls, his cum leaking from your pussy. 

Jake rode out his high, slowly catching his breath. He pulled out of you with a grunt, shifting to your left and lying beside you, pulling your face to him to kiss your cheek. 

You smiled and softly laughed, feeling satisfied and so full. Jake was happy seeing you smile, his eyes rolling down to the bandages on the right side of your waist. His smile slowly faded, his fingers tracing over the bandage. He almost lost you. Almost was never able to see your smile and hear your laugh ever again. His blood boiled. 

“Jake,” you whispered, seeing him lost in thought, “Babe,” 

Jake looks into your eyes, “I’m going to kill them, for doing this to you.” You frown, placing a hand on his face. He leaned into your touch, “I’d set this world on fire for you, ya know,” he whispered, his facial expression relaxing, “I’d let it burn and tear apart into ashes and nothingness. Let it completely burn for you.” You leaned into him, laying your head against his chest, his arms pulling you tighter to him. Jake kissed the top of your head and stared up at the ceiling, “I’m going to end that fucker for what they’ve done to you and burn this fucking world down.” 

—

Jake stared down the other two males in front of him, burning holes into their bodies. 

Jay stared back, brows furrowed. Heeseung only glanced up every few seconds, trying to keep his eyes glued to his laptop, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

“Say some shit,” Jay said with a cool calm with irritation. 

“Some shit,” Jake smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You just roll your eyes, “Can we not today? We have work to do.” 

Jake’s smirk turned into a frown, body relaxing and leaning into you, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“He really is like a dog,” Jay scrunched his nose, “No wonder he barks so much.” 

“Woof.” 

You drop your head into your palms, rubbing your eyes, “Jaeyun Sim, please.” 

Jake has been overprotective of you ever since returning back to campus. Your stitches were removed, but the scar and irritation were still present. It hurt to breathe at times or move certain ways, but you wouldn’t let it affect you. You needed to catch the imposter, after all. 

“Anyways,” Heeseung mumbled, eyeing Jake one last time before looking at the laptop, “The police report finally came back from your case, YN. And the photos my team took are pulled up here as well.” Heeseung sent both files to the group chat. 

“I’m uploading the…” Jay started saying, quickly glancing down at his phone, his jaw flexing then flipping the phone over on the table face down, “Anyways, I am uploading the news report we filmed on top of the official news report from the town,” Jay typed away at his computer, the files popping up in the group chat. 

The four of you looked over the files and reports. Five minutes turned into an hour, and an hour into two. Yet nothing stood out in your case. 

The imposter didn’t leave or take anything at the scene of the crime. They even left Jake’s laptop and folder. Which was odd, considering the imposter would want to take that information? Right? Nothing was adding up. Nothing made sense. Whoever this imposter was, they were thorough, and clean, only left behind what they knew couldn’t be traced back to them. This was a game to them. And they are somewhere laughing their ass off right now. 

Heeseung leaned back in the chair, flinging his head back and pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head, pulling his dark hair up with it. His fingers rubbed at his eyes, “Is there anything any of you can think of that we are skipping over?” he sighed, “Not just with YN’s case?” 

Jay also sighed, his phone buzzing and him looking back at it, carefully lifting it up, then setting it back down, “Not that I know of,” he looked at you, “Is there anything you remember that happened when you were attacked?” 

Jake traced his eyes back and forth between you and Jay and Jay’s phone, tuning out your story, not on purpose, of course, he’s heard you retell your attack multiple times now. The more he hears it, the more pissed he gets. Jay’s phone buzzed again, “Are you going to answer whoever it is that’s spamming you?” Jake said, tilting his head, “It’s been going off nonstop since you’ve been in here.” 

Jay thinned his lips, “I apologize, there’s stuff going on with my family and the arcade.” 

Jake chuckled, “Ahh, the fun arcade.” Jay glared at him, clearly remembering what Jake did in his arcade. 

You rolled your eyes again, tapping your fingers on the table, “This is irritating.” 

Heeseung sat back right in his chair, looking over at you and giving you a small smile, “Hey,” he whispered, leaning closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours, making Jake’s blood boil, “We’ll catch this guy, yeah?” 

Jake swatted Heeseung’s hand off yours, “Hands off.”’

Heeseung blankly stared at Jake and gave a soft nod, pulling his glasses back to his nose, “I apologize.” 

Jake held both your hands in his now, protecting them from being touched again. Eyeing the fuck out of Heeseung. 

You pushed aside your boyfriend's jealousy, staring at your laptop screen, looking over every piece of evidence, “Wait!” You said, pulling your hands out of Jake’s and typing away at your computer. 

“Find something, honey?” Jake asked, peeking over to your screen. 

“I forgot I put in a request for some specific reports and evidence from all the ghost face cases from start to now,” you could feel Jake shift in his chair, not because you are pulling his murders, but all of them combined. It was genius. It would be an easier way to read each of them and find the differences instead of just looking at the pictures and the news reports and articles or trying to piece each puzzle together on your corkboard. This all-in-one combo could give the advantage needed. Jake could fuck you right here in front of everyone and not give a damn. “I put in the request while in the hospital, they should be ready by now.” 

Heeseung was now towering over your laptop to get a look, but quickly sat down after a glare from Jake. He’s way too easy to fuck with. Jake smirked. 

“They are ready!” You stood from the chair, going to take a step. 

“Woah,” Jake said, grabbing your arm, “Where are you running off to?” 

You looked at your boyfriend, then the other two males, “The police station?” 

“Like hell you are!” Jake snapped, “You aren’t going anywhere!” 

Heeseung looked up at you with pleading eyes, “YN, he’s right. You literally got attacked two weeks ago, you shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.” 

“Heeseung gets it!” Jake pointed a finger at him, “Sit back down.” 

“We need those papers!” you retort, trying to pry your arm out of his grasp. 

“I’ll go get it,” Jay said, looking back down at his phone again, “I have to stop by the news office anyways and get something from Jungwon before heading out, I’ll bring the reports here right after.” 

You wanted to protest, but with the three of them, you knew you’d lose. So you just nodded, giving him a small “Thank you, Jay.” 

He shoved his phone into his pocket and smiled back at you, reaching over to ruffle your hair and walk to the door, “No problem, stinks.” Then he was out the door. 

“Stinks?” both Jake and Heeseung said in unison, both side-eyeing you. 

You shrug, “He said I reeked of dog—aka Jake—the other day before Jake’s cologne was strong and rubbed off on me, then he started calling me stinks.” 

Jake scrunched his nose, “I don’t ever want him calling you that again.” 

Even Heeseung scrunched his nose, “It’s an odd nickname to give someone.” 

You rolled your eyes, “He’s being a big brother, kind of.” 

Jake shook his head, “Nope. We aren’t doing this.” 

“Anyway,” Heeseung said, looking at you with his heart smile, “Want to get some lunch from the cafe on campus?” 

“Absolutely! I’ve been craving their coffee and wanting to try that new raspberry pastry!” 

You pulled out of Jake’s grasp and piled your belongings together and shoved them in your backpack, tossing them over your shoulders. Heeseung did the same, noticing Jake’s glare, “Are you coming as well or?” Heeseung asked. 

“Oh? I’m invited?” Jake scoffed, “You weren’t trying to just get my girlfriend alone with you?” 

Heeseung’s glasses fell down to the bottom of his nose as he continued to pack up his things, looking away from Jake, “Considering you don’t let her have any friends, yeah guess you’re invited too.” 

Jake stood to his feet, not liking that Heeseung was talking back to him right now, “Considering my girlfriend had her life threatened and was stabbed three times, excuse me for not letting her out of my sight,” he counters. 

Heeseung pushed his glasses up, “I get it, but I wouldn’t hurt her. But I get it. That’s why I am extending an invitation to you too. You also could use some friends besides Sunghoon.” 

Jake raised his brow. You looped your arm with Jake’s and Heeseung’s, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Come on you two, let’s just get some food. We can invite Jay and Jungwon too, even Sunoo! Where is he by the way?” You asked, “I know Wonnie had an exam and project to work on from what Jay said, what about the sunshine?” 

Heeseung smiled and shrugged, “Sunoo had class and work later, but don’t worry I’ll get him caught up on everything we talked about today.” 

You nodded, pulling the two boys with you towards the doors, “I’m starving!” 

Jake and Heeseung glanced at each other, allowing you to pull them both towards the cafe. 

—

Jake crossed his arms, staring up at the corkboard here at the office. It’s almost two-thirty in the morning, and nothing but the moonlight peeking from the windows lit up the room. Jake was thankful you had two exact copies of the corkboard for both the apartment and the office, making it easier than carrying the big damn thing back and forth all the time. 

He glances down at his phone propped on the corner of the corkboard on the railing, all the cameras in the apartment pulled up on the screen. His eyes shift to the one in the bedroom, seeing you fast asleep in your shared bed. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he didn’t want to wake you up and drag you here either, all because he couldn’t sleep and needed to wrap his head around this case. 

Jake pulled the papers you requested from the police station earlier out of his backpack, reading over it. It’s been the fourth time he’s looked at this, rereading over his ghost face cases and the imposters, trying to find the fine line that would point to who this imposter was. But the more he looked over it, the more his brain hurt. 

He tossed the papers to the table, running his hands through his hair. Jake had a mental list of suspects, trying to match each person to the cases, but nothing added up. 

Jake assumed it was someone close, not specifically close to him, but close in a way they’ve known about his crimes for the longest time. Known who he was. Jake’s first suspect was Sunghoon, since his best friend was the one who planted it into your mind of the possibility Jake was the ghost face. But Jake continued to keep tabs on Sunghoon, and he hasn’t done or said anything out of the ordinary for Jake to really actually keep him on the list. So he was shoved out. The others? Full game. 

Jake’s next one on the suspects' list is Jay. Jay had always had a small crush on you, and that hasn’t changed even after working with him on the cases. Not to mention he oddly kept checking his phone today and was so quick to offer to get the papers for you. Either he really was just being a protective brotherly figure to you, or he’s the imposter. Jake also didn’t like the attention Jay gave you, still wanting to string Jay’s body from the ceiling of his arcade. 

Heeseung was the third on the list but also the least of Jake’s concerns. Heeseung was skittish and very shy. Very much in love with you, it was obvious. Heeseung looked as if he was about to crawl into his turtle shell and never come back out. He only spoke when spoken to really, unless he had something to say and even then it was quiet and not munch. His department head was also murdered and he was forced to step up, the likeliness of Heeseung being the imposter was slim. 

The rest Jake had on the list were Danielle, Jungwon, Sunoo, and a few others on his soccer team and people in his classes. 

Jake kept rotating the suspect list, trying to pinpoint exactly who would have such a grudge against him to become a copycat murderer. Someone who clearly wanted to watch him suffer, as the imposter said. 

He ran the statement you told him at the hospital over and over in his head, then looked back at the reports, looking at the corkboard, and then pulled up all the files Jay and Heeseung have shared with everyone on his laptop. 

Something clicked in Jake’s brain. His eyes widened. He quickly typed away at his computer, fingers rushing across the keys and eyes darting over every piece of information that was laid out in front of him. 

He smirked, the corners of his lips curling as a laugh escaped his lips, it echoing against the quiet walls of the office, “No fucking way,” he leaned back in the chair, throwing his hands behind his head, “I got you, imposter.” 

Jake wasn’t one hundred percent sure he figured it out, but he knew. He just knew. All Jake needed was the full solid proof. And it was his mission now to figure out a way to get it. 

Jake thought about how he found you two weeks ago, how close you were to death, how close he was to losing you. Jake never was so terrified in his life. Seeing the love and light of his life passing the line of life and death, it killed him. Drove him into a frenzy of wanting to murder every single damn person in this town and the next one over to make sure he got the imposter. But alas, that wasn’t an option. But that didn’t matter now, you would be avenged soon. 

All Jake had to do was make his preparations, which he did before finally heading back to the apartment.  

—

Jake pressed your body against the cool wall of the shower, your face connecting to the wall with a moan. He wrapped your hair around his hand, pulling your face from the wall, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear as the hot water spilled between your bodies. 

He slid in and out of you with such ease, pulling and yanking at your hair, teeth biting your ear, tongue sliding up and down your ear, soft moans escaping his lips with each thrust and kiss of his tip to your cervix, “Fuck baby, can’t get enough of you.” 

You balanced your hands on the wall, slightly pushing yourself down and lifting back your hips so Jake could pound into you easier, “Jaeeee,” your whimper, “Gonna cum soon.” 

He smirked, “Yeah, babe?” he slowed his thrusts, yanking your hair and forcing your back to connect to his wet chest, “Wanna cum? And make a mess of my cock?” you nod, reaching your hands up and into his wet hair. 

Jake wanted to ruin your pussy. Wanted to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. Fucking you slowly was driving him crazy but oh god it felt so damn good. His breaking became uneven, his moans getting louder. He wanted to cum. To fill your cunt to the brim with his seed and hear your pretty little moans once you feel it seeping out your hole. 

He removed his hand from your hair, sliding his hands down your arms and to your breasts, tracing their outline and flicking your nipples then continued down to your belly and sliding to your waist. 

Jake looked down at your body, loving how it moved with his cock sliding against your walls, eyes taking notice of your stab wounds. Jake locked his jaw as he traced his fingers over the still-healing wounds. Your stitches are gone now, but the scars will now last you forever. A remembrance of what happened to you. A reminder to Jake of what was done to you. 

You felt Jake was disconnected, in some faraway land as he stared down at your wounds, “Jake,” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at him, “Look at me,” Your hand touched his cheek and his eyes looked to you, worried filling them, “I’m alive. I’m here and I’m alive thanks to you,” you slid your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down, your lips brushing over his, “You’re literally balls deep in my pussy right now, focus on me.” 

He smirked against your lips, then kissed you hard. Your chest was now back against the wall. One of his hands was on your clit, and the other was on your hip. His hips fucked up into you harder and faster than before, your knees buckling, “Hmm what is it, babe?” He coos in your ear, “You said you wanted to cum, so I’m going to make you cum.” 

You moaned his name on repeat, fingers trying their hardest to grip to the wall and praying your knees don’t give out on you. You just wanted to take a nice warm shower before cuddling with Jake on the couch and watching movies, he obviously had other plans. Pulling back the curtains already naked and cock hard in his hands, eyes leading with you as he stepped into the shower with you, “Baby, I need you to take care of this. Need you so bad.” You weren’t complaining, shower sex then cuddling afterward? Still a win-win. 

His finger of your clit with the help of his cock buried deep inside you, your orgasm approached, coating his cock, “That’s it, such a good girl for me, making such a pretty mess on my cock,” he kissed your temple, “I’m fixing to cum, squeeze me tighter, honey.” You clenched around him and he gasped, whimpering out as his breathing became more unsteady. Heart racing as he felt the build-up, cock twitching, “I’m cumming, I’m cu-cumming.” 

Jake shoved his cock as far as he could into your pussy, hips pressing hard against your ass as his white ropes shot between your gummy walls. Jake already knew he came a lot, he could feel it seeping out your hole and physically see it was dripping down your leg. 

“I came so much,” he whispered and chuckled, slowly pulling out and cupping your cunt with his hand, shoving his fingers inside, “Can’t let it go to waste, wanna breed you.”

You leaned back into your boyfriend and smiled. You wanted to tease him that you were on birth control, but let him smile and kiss you as he continued to fuck your cunt with his fingers. 

You finally were able to convince Jake that it was time to finish the shower and get out, mostly now that the water was cold. Jake stood behind you with nothing but his basketball shorts on, running a brush through your hair as his other hand held the hairdryer. He stopped every couple of minutes to place a kiss on your head and whisper he loved you. He even gave you one of his favorite sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers for you to wear to be comfy. You figured his actions were all the cause of you getting stabbed. Hell if this is what it took for him to be this sweet, you’d get stabbed again(totally not, because that shit sucked. You’d never want to go through it again). 

Once your hair was dry, Jake pulled you into the living room, “Want popcorn, my love?” 

You smiled, giving him a nod, “Of course! Can’t have movie night with…out…” your smile faded. Causing Jake’s smile to fade as well. 

Your eyes widened, everything happening way too fast before you could tell Jake to move. 

Jake felt something was off when he saw how you looked behind him. He quickly whipped around, being met face to face with ghost face, their knife sliding into his chest just below his collar bone. He grunts out in pain, but uses the strength he had to push you away from them and onto the floor, then quickly grasping their wrists. It’s not there… Jake pushed the ghost face back, sending them back a couple of steps away. 

Jake took a few quick deep breaths and pulled the knife from his chest, tossing it across the living room. The ghost face was moving back towards Jake, swinging his fist but missing as Jake ducked down. 

Blood was gushing down his chest, making him lightheaded, and once he was low enough to the ground, his knees betrayed him and gave out, connecting to the floor and hands gripping his wound. 

The ghost face came prepared, pulling another knife from their cloak pocket, and walked up behind Jake, grasping a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. Jake gritted his teeth as he stared up at the mask, the knife resting against his throat. 

“Goodbye, Sim.” The voice mod said with a shake in their voice. 

Jake just smiles up at him. 

Time seemed to have slowed for you just then. Your heart racing as you see the imposter hovering over Jake, panic filling you. You were going to watch him kill Jake. They were going to kill Jake then kill you. Your breathing became uneven as you stared at him, watching as he smirked and laughed at the person standing over and about to kill him. How could he be laughing with a knife to his throat? The knife. Where was the knife?

You looked where Jake tossed it at, seeing it near the couch, his blood staining the blade and the carpet it sat beneath. With shaky legs, you stood to your feet, moving as fast as your legs would carry you, picking up the knife. 

The ghost face tilted his head, “What is so funny?” 

“You’re not the ghost face, Park.” 

Before he could respond to Jake, you plunged forward, pushing the knife into his shoulder, his screams filling the apartment and his blood coating your face as you yanked the knife out. With all your strength you pulled at the cloak, digging your foot into the back of his knee and sending him to the ground. 

The moment his back touched the floor, you straddled over his abdomen, the knife piercing into his chest, pushing it further in into the hilt touching his skin. 

“Wait! Fuck please wait!” 

You snarled. He just stabbed your boyfriend and nearly killed you weeks ago and he had the guts to beg? Fuck. This. 

You pulled the knife out and shoved it back in, “You think you can just beg for your life now?” You snapped. 

“It’s Jay!! Please, YN, STOP!!” You sat still, feeling Jay’s hands on your thighs. He gasped for air and you went back to panicking. 

You quickly pulled the mask off his face, seeing the sweat build up on his forehead and blonde hair sticking to his face. Blood dripped out of his mouth and fear covered every inch of his face. 

“It’s…you…” you whispered. 

Jay shook his head to the best of his ability, “I’m not the ghost face.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Jake said, standing behind you, eyes burning into Jay, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived?” 

Jay gasped more for air, more blood spilling from his chest and shoulder wounds. 

“Jake, call an ambulance!!” You snapped, pulling the knife from Jay’s chest and pressing your hands to the wounds, “NOW!! You need help too!” 

Jake held the pressure still to his chest and repeated, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived, Jay Park.” 

Jay took as deep of a breath as he could, squeezing your thighs, “I didn’t. The real ghost face called me one night, telling me he knew who I was, and who my family was, saying he had a job for me.” 

Jake narrowed his eyes, “Keep fucking talking.” 

“I laughed and ended the call. A few days later a duffle bag filled with money appeared on my front porch, with a note telling me to answer my phone, so when it rang, I answered, hearing that stupid voice mod on the other end,” he gasped for air again, “They mentioned the job again, and that the money was my payment. I asked what the job was, and they told me to kill you, Sim.” 

Jake’s face was unchanged, but your heart was racing. You stared at Jay, his eyes looking back at you, his thumbs rubbing against your skin. 

“I declined at first, I couldn’t take him away from you, YN. No matter my feelings for you I couldn’t do it. I donated the money to charity and went on about my business. The next day you were attacked.” 

You kept the pressure on his chest, tears now filling your eyes, “Jay…” 

“After that I tried calling the number over and over, figuring it was a burner phone. But once you returned back to campus, I started receiving text messages,” You recalled the memory, Jay’s phone constantly buzzing and Jake snapping at him to answer it, “The texts told me that if I didn’t kill Sim, they would kill not just YN, but my family. They sent me photos of my parents at their jobs, photos of my friends in their homes, and photos of Jungwon in the new rooms. Photos of YN the day she was stabbed walking into campus and then photos of her bleeding out on the sidewalk and the last photo of you Sim, from the journaling office, wearing the exact clothes you did the day I received all those texts, meaning the killer had to be nearby.” 

Jake processed the information and then kneeled down to Jay’s face, “How did you find out where we lived?” 

“They sent me your address,” he swallowed but then coughed, the red liquid now dripping down his neck, “They gave me a time frame on when I had to do it. Told me the password to the gates of the apartment complex, which building, floor, and apartment number.” 

Jake tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, “And you thought you could just walk in here and kill me? Don’t you know who I am? That I’m fucking insane. Mostly when my girl's life is on the line?” 

Jay closed his eyes tightly, releasing a groan, “Trust me, after the day you fucked her in my arcade I knew you were fucking crazy.” Jay’s words were now shuddering, his voice becoming softer, “I was…scared. I couldn’t…lose my family and friends.” 

“Who is the ghost face?” Jake tested. 

“I…don’t…know.” 

You looked up at Jake, begging him, “Call an ambulance, Jake. Please!” you started crying, blaming yourself for if Jay died, “Jake!” 

Jake stood, taking a few steps back. He understood Jay’s desperation. If some wack ass killer in a white mask and black suit told him to murder someone or else they would kill you, he’d do every task they asked of him. 

“Where is your phone?” He asked Jay.

Jay couldn’t form words, but nodded to his pocket. You let go of his chest for enough time to pull the phone from the cloak, Jake taking it from your hands, the phone soaked red. 

You continued to beg Jake to call an ambulance, tears staining your face as more of Jay’s blood stained the carpet and Jake’s eyes started to unfocus. 

—

You sat on the table in the office, kicking your feet back and forth and fingers gripping the edge of the table. A knock hit the door, and you looked in its direction, “Come in.” 

Heeseung popped his head in, glasses falling to the tip of his nose, “You called a meeting?”

You smiled and nodded, “Come on in.” 

Heeseung fully walked in, taking a look around the room, “Where is everyone else?” He asked, raising his brow. 

“They should be here soon,” you leaned back a bit against the table, “It’s just you and me for right now.” 

Heeseung awkwardly nodded, fingers playing with the straps of his backpack and looking down to the floor. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” You playfully said, “Set your stuff done and come here.” The corners of his lips pulled into a small smile. He nodded again and dropped his bag to the floor. 

Heeseung stood across from you, leaning against the filing cabinet, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

You look him up and down, “Jake told me you had a crush on me.” 

Heeseung’s eyes widened, ears burning red, “H-He what? That’s silly, YN.” He looked away from you and back to the floor. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Seungie,” he looked back up at you. You spread your legs apart, “What if I told you I felt the same way?” Heeseung swallowed, eyes trailing down to your bare legs, shorts riding up your crotch, “Come here, Hee.” 

Heeseung pushed himself off the cabinet and walked up to you. 

You tilted your head, “Come closer.” You shot your eyes down between your legs and back up to his face. 

Heeseung took a step back, “No, we can’t do this.” 

“Jake won’t find out,” you whispered, reaching up and grabbing the collar of his tee shirt, pulling him between your legs. 

You wrapped them around his hips, locking him into place. You kept your fingers on his collar, pulling him closer, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased him, blowing your breath onto his glasses, watching them fog up. 

Heeseung shot his hands to your thighs, “Don’t tease me,” he whispered, the fog lifting off his glasses, revealing his blown-out eyes. 

You scooted yourself closer, your ass barely hanging off the table, and pulled him even closer with your legs, his hard length now pressing to your stomach. You smirked, “A little excited, are we?” 

Heeseung’s hands slid up your thighs, squeezing and yanking you closer, shifting himself to press his length to your heat, “I told you to not tease me.” 

You snaked your hands up to his neck, playing with his hair, “I have to be honest, I didn’t call a meeting. Only you.” 

Heeseung cutely giggled, thumbs rubbing the plush of your skin, “Only me?” 

You nodded, “Come closer.” 

Heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, “I want to kiss you so bad…can I?” 

You brushed your lips back, “Can I tell you something first?” 

He rocked his hips against you, “Anything.” 

“How did it feel?” Heeseung moves away a few inches, looking at you in confusion, “How did it feel to stab me three times and leave me for dead, Mr. Ghost face?” 

His hand was now in your hair, pulling your head back and a yelp escaped your mouth. 

Everything about Heeseung changed. His body straightened out, face from relaxed to hard, jaw locked and eyes piercing. You looked up at him in fear, and he just laughed. 

“You finally figured me out huh?” even his voice was different. It was no longer the cute bubbly tone, but now it was chilling and cold. He pulled your hair back further, giving you no choice but to look at him, “Or should I say, the original figured me out.” 

You swallowed, “Why did you do it? I trusted you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Heeseung smirked, lifting his other hand from your thigh and caressing your face, the watch you’ve seen before sitting on his wrist perfectly, “Why did I do it? Do what? Gotta be more specific.” 

You’ve done this dance before with Jake, “Why did you commit those murders? Why did you stab me?” 

He smirked even wider, “Because it was fun,” his voice sent chills down your spine, “And for why I stabbed you?” he leaned forward, brushing his nose to your jaw, “Because I wanted to watch the love of my life bleed out.” His breath formed goosebumps on your neck and he chuckled, gently planting a kiss on your neck, “It was so easy to convince Jay to break into your apartment,” he stood back up, “All I had to do was threaten your life. You have a lot of crazy people in your corner, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

You took a few deep breaths in, trying to stay calm, “You wanted Jake to suffer, why?” 

Heeseung leaned back inches away from your face, “Because he has something that I want, a few things, actually.” He ran his hand back down to your thigh, snaking his fingers under your shorts, “Where is he, by the way? Does he know where you are right now? He is a crazy fucking dog after all.” You glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder. 

“This crazy fucking dog is right behind you,” Jake hissed, a knife now pressing to Heeseung’s throat, “And I suggest you back the fuck off my girlfriend before I start barking and slit your throat.” 

Heeseung released his hands off you, slowly backing away with Jake, “Where the fuck did you come from?” 

Jake chuckled, patting Heeseung’s back, “This is my office, you don’t think I don’t know every inch of this room from top to bottom to hide in? For a serial killer, you’re fucking stupid.” 

Heeseung gritted his teeth, “Go to hell.” 

Jake pressed the blade more into his skin, “It’s crazy how you were able to mimic everything I did, even down to the weapon and clothes, stalker much?” 

“Had to learn somehow,” Heeseung countered with a smirk, “At least I succeeded in almost killing YN, versus you folding the minute her legs were spread.” 

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Jake barked, “I will spill your blood so fucking fast don’t try me.” 

The rage Jake was feeling at this moment, the rage that was boiling, and every instinct telling him to slide Heeseung’s throat for the hell he’s put him through. For hurting you. 

Heeseung laughed, “Your buttons are so easy to push when YN is involved.” 

You pierce your eyes into him, “If Jake doesn’t kill you, I will!” 

Heeseung tilted his head back, “Like how you almost killed Jay?” 

That statement was enough proof to show Heeseung had access to your cameras, he was watching the entire thing unfold. 

“Anyway,” Jake clicked his tongue, “Where is your sidekick?” 

Heeseung chuckled, “My what?” 

Jake sighed, “Should we ask Sunoo about it instead? I know he’s outside that door. Ain’t that right, Sun?” 

The door opened and a smiling Sunoo walked in, “Figured us both out that easily?” 

“We figured Heeseung had help,” you said, pushing yourself off the table and picking up his backpack and placing it on the table, “Jake and I discussed this plenty at the hotel room we’ve been in the last couple nights, that he had to have help. Heeseung was too calm while Jay’s phone was getting spammed. Heeseung didn’t even have his phone out. How did he receive those texts?” 

You opened the backpack, seeing a laptop, one textbook, and the ghost face mask. You looked at Sunoo, “You’re the one who sent the texts to Jay and helped Heeseung track us at all times. You have your own mask too, don’t you? Hiding it in the investigation room?” 

Sunoo kept his smile, “It was there,” he shot his eyes to Jake, “But I’m assuming it’s no longer there.” 

Jake smirked, “You think I’d let some fucking copycats steal my thunder? Nah.” He removed the knife from Heeseung’s throat, and pushed him away, quickly grabbing you and pulling you to his side, “Besides,” Jake chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and looking down at the knife, “All the evidence I have against you was already turned into the police. Sunoo’s gear too. And now that we have your gear,” Jake tossed the knife to the table, “The cops have everything they needed.” 

The sounds of running filled the hallways, enough proof that the police had finally arrived. Heeseung and Sunoo didn’t loosen their glares off you and Jake even as their wrists got cuffed and they were dragged out of the office. 

Jake pulled you into a hug, his breath hitching, “It’s over,” he whispered in your ear, “It’s finally over.” 

You hugged your boyfriend tightly, “I’m proud of you for not killing him.” 

Jake chuckled, “Trust me, honey, it took a lot to not.” 

A few investigators questioned you and Jake, then sent you on your way. You and Jake were able to walk home freely with no worries. 

Heeseung and Sunoo were on the news that night, video footage of them being pushed into the police cars and being hauled off, the newsman discussing each murder case, including the ones Jake committed. Each victim is named in tribute to the killer finally being caught. 

You laid on top of Jake on your shared couch, the bandages from his stab wound Jay gave him peeked out of his hoodie. You traced your fingers over it, “Does it still hurt?” 

Jake shifted his gaze from the TV to you, “Not as much as what it felt like when I thought you’d died.” 

You traced your fingers over his face, stopping at his lips, him kissing the pads of your fingers. 

“You won’t have to ever feel that feeling again,” you reassured him. 

Jake nodded, wrapping his arms around you, “I know. I won’t let anyone harm you again,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and softly chuckled, “I am proud of you for how you lured him in, his shyness and awkwardness might have all been fake and an act, but the way you reeled in him and played with his feelings? Those were so true. You should be an actor, for real.” 

You roll your eyes at him, “I want to be an investigative journalist, don’t have time for acting.”

Jake cupped your face and kissed you gently, “And you’ll make one hell of one too.” 

The kiss went from passionate and soft, to deep and hard. Jake pulled your and his clothes off until you were both bare and you straddled his lap, riding his cock and pinning his hands above his head against the armrest. Jake was a moaning and gasping mess as you continued to ride, letting you have full control. 

You smiled down at your serial killer, watching as his brows furrowed and eyes shut tightly when he came. 

Everything was perfect and how it should be.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @zeeloveshee

— taglist: @secretlyapartofthisfandom @wonheartz @ggukkyu @liwugy @hoondrop @jentlecoeur @yawnzzhoon @vixialuvs @ericluvs @qoeqe @hanjisunginc @jaeyunsbimbo @ksnooppy @immortalvee @criminaluvr @kookify @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @sunpov @topichoon @brownsugarbaybee @lilyuwon

#jake bby #sim jake #jake sim #jaeyun sim #sim jake x reader #reader x sim jake #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jake smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #yeonzzzn writing #ghostface!jake #ghostface au

[horrorartsworld]

Hey!! A mutual just sent me your fic "A manspreading man" and gosh,,,definitely one of the best steamy Alastor x reader I've read 😩❤ If you're okay with it, could I request an Alastor x shy!reader where a cozy night when neither of them can sleep so they stay up, maybe having tea together too but, they end up getting steamy with each other?,, 😳 Love your work!! ❤❤

𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹

alastor/shy f!reader

warnings: smut w/ a lil fluffies. pet names. kind of primal alastor. p in v. fingering. dub con. not proofread.

aww thank you nonnie baby!! tbh manspreading man was one of my favorites to write so i’m very glad to hear that you liked it so much to request something this lovely & spicy 🤭 got me going back to my roots with writing for al lol, i hope u enjoy <3

For some odd reason you couldn’t fall asleep. Not that the noises of constant terrors outside and the old sounds of the hotel didn’t have you usually sleeping like a baby it’s just that tonight of all nights seemed different.

Having you tossing and turning like a flopping fish, moments of just staring at the empty ceiling, or throwing a pillow over your face in hopes that you might suffocate yourself to sleep, but none of those seemed to help your ongoing sleep deprivation.

Finally after the last toss you turned you end up throwing yourself out of bed with a huff and your feet seem to oddly enough lead you to none of than Alastor’s quarters right across from your room. The door being slightly cracked enough to let you peak inside, hearing the inviting soft crackly of a jazz record playing and seeing the flicker of a candle going on an end table. Though it seemed very inviting you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt wash over you when you went to approach the door, hugging the blanket you dragged along the way for some kind of support in this. Since you did have a crush on the deer fellow after all and everytime he would come around you would loose all your senses and look like an utter idiot when you’d scurry away from him to save face. In which you were completely committed to doing right now until the door suddenly swung open and you were met with Alastor’s elegantly tall stature.

“Oh!- Well hello my dear..” He speaks surprised to see you standing there holding your blanket in hand, hearing the static in his voice instantly turning your cheeks pink. “What brings you to my door at this hour.?”

You shift on your feet fiddling with your hands in the blanket before speaking, “m’ sorry a-alastor i-i just couldn’t sleep..i’ll be going now..” Your eyes trained on the buttons of his blazer, never meeting his gaze in knowing you’d blush more if you did while you spoke, quickly turning on your heel to make your way back to your room though his clawed hand grabbed your wrist before you could completely make your getaway.

Then you were pulled back to face him, his other hand coming up to your chin to make you look up at him, your cheeks instantly warming up more like you knew they would. “Can’t sleep? You poor thing..I actually have quite the remedy for such things..” He hums, then suddenly letting go of you to grab something from a cupboard leaving you standing there in his doorway.

After a second or two he turns his head to see you standing there sheepishly earning a soft chuckle from him. “Come sit dear..it’ll just be a moment.” He says nodding over to an antique arm chair that sat next to an intricate round table with a matching chair on the other side to go with it.

You shimmy yourself over to it making yourself comfortable on the chair, seeming to feel a bit more relaxed now that you were seated. Alastor then comes to sit down across from you holding two warm teacups that you were sure he used his demon magic to conjure to a certain temp, gesturing it out to you to take. “It’s Chamomile Tea…should do the trick for your sleeplessness..” He says taking his own sip before you did, letting the cup warm up your hands until you tasted it yourself feeling instantly at ease when it went down your throat.

“Wow…that’s good! Thank you Al!” You say with a soft hum and a smile causing Alastor’s smile to look more gentle though something was silently brewing behind those mischievous dial eyes.

“My pleasure my dear…my pleasure indeed..” He takes another sip as there’s a long pause between the two of you. Seeing his gaze over the rim of the cup had wandered down your chest to your hips in an indiscreet way, making your breath slightly falter at the sight.

“S-so…what’re you doing up so late as well?” Your gentle voice hardly above a whisper when you stammer out the question.

“Well I hardly ever sleep..too much to do..and too many folks out there trying to put my head on a mount..” He says nonchalantly in which you nod knowing this was very true with his background, but it was hard to even focus on a simple conversation like this one when his gaze continued its improper cycle along your body.

“Um A-alastor?” You tilt your head down trying to catch his eyes in attempt at getting his attention back by making him realize what he was doing though he already was very much aware what he was doing.

“Hmm? Oh sorry dear, it’s just that…fuck..” He unexpectedly cruses causing your thighs to staple shut when a warmth radiates through your core. Your eyes widening at his outburst, taking note that his chest was rising and falling rather quickly. “W-what’s the matter?” You mutter out confused, big doe eyes searching for some kind of answer on his unreadable face.

A tension brews as a low crackly chuckle escapes from his lips, “You like me don’t you little fawn?”

The unexpected question making a lump form in your throat. Why was he asking this? Were you that obvious? “Going quiet on me now?” His voice rippling through your thoughts with a sense of mocking in his tone. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of darling…” He trails off then getting up from his chair with a creak from its old legs, rounding the small table to come and tower over you, microphone buzzing when he sets it beside him as he leaned into you very close with ether hands at the sides of you clutching the arms of your chair. “..I’m quite fond of you myself..” He husks, his once static voice turning to his normal one as he leaned into your ear to utter those words.

“Y-you are?” You manage to find your voice again, feeling as if the chamomile tea had already kicked in and you were in a surreal dream.

“Mmm yess..” He practically purrs while he toys with the hem of your sleep shorts before riding it up so he can peer down at your plush thighs that were trembling so desperately to try and keep them sealed shut. Then thumbing over the sensitive flesh there he forces them open with his claws digging into them so he could hoist you up and wrap your legs around his hips to bring you to bed and once he has you there he lays you down with him on top but keeping your legs secured around him. “..Feel how much i yearn for you,” he says almost like a question as you then feel him grind his hard on into your clothed warmth. Your face burning as you nod. “Good girl..Shall I show you what I want to do to you?” once more nodding your head he can’t help the low growl admitting from the back of his throat when he slides a finger under the hem of your shorts and pulls them down towards the floor, primal eyes locking onto the wetness of your panties. The sight making his smile enlarged.

“My, My...so soaked just from that?” He couldn’t help but tease, in one single motion ripping your panties off, discarding them just like the shorts.

A low humming buzz is heard when Alastor gets a full view of your needy slick. Pretty pussy, all puffy and red, begging for a good fuck. You couldn’t help instinctively attempt at closing your legs once more with how vulnerable you were infront of him, but he holds them open forcefully with his hands. “Sweetheart..no need to shy away from me…i’m gonna make you feel so good..” you whimper softly just by those cooed words alone, along with the two fingers that were now invading your entrance. The sensation making your body shake as he did it without warning, moving in slow in and out strokes with his fingers, making wet sloshy noises with the air with your hushed whimpers. His fingers feeling like they were so far inside that they’ve reached max capacity…Was his fingers always this long?

“Al-al!..” You whine breathlessly, an all too familiar feeling stirring beneath your tummy with your cunt clenching around his fingers, but he immediately stops just before you could fully come undone.

“Not yet...” He hums with a knowing smile, gently patting your cheek with the other hand. You pout at this though that was quickly replaced when his fingers come in contact with his mouth, softly slurping up the left slick on his fingers, before he crashes his lips on yours, long tongue invading your space making you taste the tangy yet neutral flavor of your own arousal, all while your hips rut against his own in hopes to get that feeling back of your lost euphoria.

Finally getting the hint from your movements he pulls back and takes out his cock, tantalizing tapping it against your aching slit before fully pressing it into your already awaiting pussy. A loud enough cry following with his cock stretching you out with it’s full enough size, reaching much farther lengths then his fingers did. “Such a snug little thing you are,” He hisses while rutting into you, your body bouncing and recoiling with every thrust.

Your head falls back into the mattress, mumbling curses under your breath as the feeling was driving you mad, making him chuckle as you seem to squeeze him in tighter. “You like that..the way my cock just goes in…and out..” He groans as he emphasizes the in and out part by going slow and hard, his cock hitting the wall of your cervix even when he goes slow. “Hey..let me see those pretty fucked out eyes..” he growls lowly, “Atta girl..,” his finger leaning your chin down to look at him, the sight of him so sinful it almost made you come undone on the spot.

His ears flat amongst his head, eyes low and focused and his lip curled almost in a smirk with sweat lining his forehead. You wanted that imagine burned in your brain, which you couldn’t help but admit in your slur of babbles passing from your lips, which only made him fuck you even harder. “Mphmm, yeah? Burned in your brain huh..? That can be arranged..” He snickers genuinely considering haunting you with this imagine from time to time just to make you squirm.

Soon enough, the tightening of your tummy comes back once more and your walls contracts around Alastor’s cock harder then you’d expect. The cum creaming down his cock and dripping onto his sheets beneath you though his pace and speed never lets up. If anything it becomes more impactful as he works up his own orgasm, with you feeling overly sensitive.

His claws dig into your hips as his own snaps ferociously against yours and your post-cumming expression floating in your big eyes was enough to have him over the edge. “I’m gonna make you feel nice and full okay sweetheart?” He seethes out as his hips sputter and he spills his load into your spent little womb.

Slowly pulling out and away, he makes a towel appear in his hand to help you clean up. A soft whimper making its way out at the hollowness you now felt inside, but you were starting to feel sleepy with a small yawn coming after your whimper. “That’s it’s darling…you can sleep now..” He then tucks you under the covers gently with a soft kiss to your forehead seeing your eyes fluttering gently into slumber, completely spent with the workout he just gave you.

After he cleans himself and gets dressed he walks over to the abounded teacups eyeing his own carefully, when he realizes in the murky brew that he accidentally spiked his own somehow, chuckling at his own mix up that ether way seemed to do the trick for your tiresome night.

“No wonder the tea’s gone cold..”

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor

[fangirl-dot-com]

🥃Track 6 - Delicate

*oooooo y'all are in for a doozie, Logan finally breaks*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Logan watched you from the other side of the club. Currently, he was still on a high from the 1-2 a couple of hours earlier. But now, he could actually live in the feeling. He had a dopey-kind-of smile as your head leaned back when you laughed at something that Lewis had said. Under the pink and blue strobe likes, you were hypnotizing, and Logan was just another man under your spell. 

“You’re staring,” a voice sounded in a sing-song tune. Logan knew exactly who is was and rolled his eyes. He looked down at his drink. 

“I’m allowed to stare.” 

Charles just clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure mate. You kissed your teammate, but only watching her, it’s kind of creepy.” 

Logan hummed before turning to face the Monegasque. 

“So it’s not creepy when you get to stare at him?” 

Logan’s eyes flickered to Max, who was currently in a deep conversation with Liam Lawson. Charles’s head followed in that direction. 

Even under the strobe lights, the American could tell that there was definitely a blush rising on Charles’s face. He laughed as the man sputtered. 

“Non! It is different too.” 

The blond’s eyes held a teasing glint. 

“So you’ve never. . . ?” Logan trailed off as he swished his drink around and raised his eyebrows. Charles took the moment to return the glint and put his hand up to his mouth. 

“A man never kisses and tells Logan,” Charles said and ran his finger across his lips, as to zip them closed. 

Logan was about to retaliate, but then his lap was suddenly full. He quickly placed his drink down on the table and his hands found their home on your hips, where you had dramatically placed yourself. He looked up and saw a sheepish look on Lewis’s face. However, when he looked back down at you, you seemed totally fine. 

“Not drunk out of your mind I hope?” Logan asked. You quickly shook your head and glared up at the Briton. 

“Lewis tripped, fell into me, and then I fell into you.” 

A look of realization bloomed on his face and then he smiled. “Well, I don’t mind. Means I get to hold you closer.” 

Your face reeled back from where it was and you scoffed. 

“When did you become such a smooth talker Mr. Sargeant?” 

Logan leaned back into your face, lips dangerously close. “Always been sweetheart.” 

The two of you were so lost in yourselves that you completely missed the disgruntled looks of Lewis and Charles around you. When Charles looked back to the pair, he groaned out loud at the sight of your faces practically smashed together. 

“Lewis? Drinks?” 

The Mercedes man didn’t need to be asked twice as he swiftly turned around and headed back to the bar. The future teammates wasted no time to put space between them and the table. 

Logan’s hands had respectfully stayed in their place on your hips. You, on the other hand, had moved just a bit to be almost fully in his lap. The kiss was definitely more hungry than the one that was shared on the podium. 

This one had more teeth, spit, and tongue. 

The atmosphere felt electrifying with all the lights and what Logan deduced to be a smoke machine somewhere. 

You finally pulled back, out of breath, and leaned your head on your his shoulder. Your hand reached out and grabbed Logan’s drink, taking a quick sip. You felt his hand tighten on you hip as you teasingly played with the little straw it came with. 

Logan squawked when he saw that you had practically emptied his drink. 

“You couldn’t get your own?” he whined. “I was enjoying it.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I enjoyed it more. You want to get another one? I also need pictures for Instagram. Your dark jeans and Nikes look really good, and make your eyes pop. Damn, never see that color blue.” 

Logan flushed at your compliment. 

“Is it cool that I said that?” you asked as you got out of the booth. 

He rolled his eyes. “It’s perfectly fine. Is it chill that you’re always in my head?” 

It was your turn to flush. Your only response was to grab his arm to drag him away. Logan went willingly. 

It didn’t take long before you two found yourself back at the bar, but thankfully still some ways away from everyone. Lamborghini had made sure that the club wasn’t too crowded and only allowed F1 personnel. However, that still meant that most of the teams could come, including Williams and McLaren. 

Logan saw you wince as you were watching the entrance. He felt the same once he saw familiar people waltz in like they owned the place. Which wasn’t true, but Logan didn’t know the owner. He quickly grabbed both drinks with one hand, and placed the other one on your lower back to guide you to the table that was now occupied with your little group, along with Liam. 

He made sure to place you on the inside instead of the end seat. 

Max, who had been facing George, could tell that something was off when someone sat beside him. Not wanting to cut his conversation, he quickly glanced at his left, now seeing the two younger drivers. The frowns on your face solidified his wrong feeling. Your faces were close to each other and he could tell that harsher whispers were filling the little space between. 

“Max?” 

His eyes whipped back to George, who was now frowning. He shook his head a bit. 

“Sorry mate. What were you saying?” 

“Lando, Oscar, and Alex just walked in.” 

Oh.  

That was probably the source of yours and Logan’s attitude change. When he glanced back, he was a bit happier to see that you two were now conversing with Liam. However, he could see you trying to wiggle a bit closer to Logan. 

It only made sense when a hand clapped his shoulder. It was the hand that was connected to Lando. 

“Hey mate!” the curly-haired Briton greeted. 

Max smiled as he greeted him back. He might not agree with how Lando treated Logan, but the McLaren driver was still one of his good friends. Over his shoulder, Max saw Oscar and Alex greeting the other drivers. Past them, Pato was awkwardly standing to the side. But Max could see right through him as the Mexican driver kept throwing glances at you. 

“Mind if we join?” Alex asked, but didn’t wait for an answer as he and the two McLaren drivers took the pull out chairs to sit on. Oscar looked as if he suddenly remembered someone and waved Pato over, telling him to join as well. 

Charles felt off about the whole thing. He could tell that you were uncomfortable, but kept a smile on your face to be polite. Logan, on the other hand, was not as good at schooling his expressions has his face had become rigid. 

The Monegasque tried to read your lips as you said something to Logan. He knew it was Italian, but the dark setting made it nearly impossible to do so. But when he saw that Logan was scooching to let you by, he stood up as well, making the table now look at him with questioning faces. He glanced at you before explaining. 

“I’m thirsty,” he said, ending with a small laugh. 

Logan made sure to tell you to stay with Charles as you now walked back over to the bar. Once there was a bit of distance, you sighed in relief. 

“All is good petite abeille?” the Monegasque asked as he tried to get the bartender’s attention. You couldn’t even offer an answer and just shook your head. 

“Is it Pato?” 

“No, it’s . . . yeah, it is.” 

“You want to talk about it?” 

Your hands cradled your face as you leaned against the bar. “My time at Arrow was nothing short of absolute hell.” 

Charles’s head tilted in confusion. “But you won races?” 

A scoff left your lips. “You’ve won races and still get hate. Except you’re Charles Leclerc. Ferrari adores you.” 

He crossed his arms. “What does that have anything to do with?” 

Maybe that last question was a bit harsh as you now looked at him with such a pitiful look. Charles could almost equate your sad eyes to those of a kicked puppy. 

“Would Ferrari tell you to lose close to 6 kilos even though you are already under the weight limit? Would Ferrari tell you that they don’t have enough money to get you a hotel, but can comfortably house everyone else? Would Ferrari purposefully not give you upgrades even though you won the last race? Would Ferrari never post you on any social media because you give the brand a bad look? Would Ferrari put you in a sweatsuit under your regular race suit, claiming that it’d be easier for the car to have weights instead of the driver be heavy?” 

Charles couldn’t answer.  

“The answer to that is all no, by the way. But that’s exactly what Arrow did to me. I lost closer to 8 kilos by summer break. Logan almost had a heart attack when he saw me. I’ve gained it back, but only because of Andretti’s schedule. I passed out after the sweat suit and they said that my body could have given out at any moment during the race and I could have died if I crashed. There wasn’t enough muscle or body fat to have kept me safe.” 

Charles wanted to cry. Logan had offhandedly mentioned that you had gone through a lot of things at Arrow, but not to this extent. He even wondered if you were he reason Logan immediately went home after the race before summer, claiming that there was a family emergency back home. 

You could see that he wanted to cry, but you didn’t want him. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m fine now, truly. This opportunity has been the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

Charles got a bit closer. “I’m glad that you’re better. Really shows the men that you aren’t as delicate as they think.” 

“I’d only be delicate with one person.” 

You offhandedly glanced back at the table, seeing Logan looking down at his phone. He was probably on the weather app. 

Charles smiled fondly as you were lost in your own moment. You could feel Charles’s eyes on you as you turned to look back at him. 

“So, drinks?” 

Back at the table, Logan was indeed going through his weather app. There was nothing better to do until you would return. And he was hoping that you’d be back soon before he was dragged into a conversation that he didn’t want to be apart of. 

“So Logan, good job today mate.” 

The blond froze at the sound of his name escaping from Alex’s mouth. He closed his phone as his head raised slowly. Logan didn’t know why, but Alex talking to him jump started his fight or flight instincts. 

Too bad he was a flightless bird. 

He tried to give his ex-teammate a smile, but by everyone’s reactions, it probably came out more of a lopsided frown. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, eyes flickering, hoping to land on someone safe. Yet, his eyes shot back when he heard a scoff. 

“You could be a little more appreciative.” 

Logan sighed. Lando just had to say something. 

The American turned to the Briton. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he then turned to Alex, “Alex, thank you so much for your encouragement and praise. It really means a lot to me.” 

Lando rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You think you’re too good for us now that you have a good car?” 

Logan’s phone was now on the table and his body was fully turned toward the McLaren driver. He vaguely saw Oscar elbow Lando’s side, but that didn’t deter the curly-headed boy. 

“Says the one who rammed into his teammate in the first corner today. Maybe you just aren’t cut out for F1 Lando.” 

Logan leaned back into the plush booth with a smirk. Max fought the urge to snort, but deep down he knew he had to deescalate the situation before he had a fist fight on his hands. He was willing that you and Charles would be back soon, but nothing indicated that you were on your way back. 

Lando was now leaning forward, almost across George who separated the two. There was fury in his hazel eyes. 

“It’s only one mistake compared to your innumerable. Face it. You had luck for one race. Next one, I’ll be passing you as you’ll get lapped.” 

“Lando, maybe we should go?” 

Max could hug Pato if he could. He knew that Lando could get snippy and say everything wrong if he wasn’t held back. 

It’s a shame that Max didn’t know that Logan also wasn’t one to hold back. The snarky smirk had yet to leave the American’s face. He took the opportunity to also lean in over George. The Briton’s hands were placed on both driver’s chests, trying to keep them apart. 

“You’re just jealous.” 

Lando raised his eyebrows. “Jealous? Of you? You make. me. laugh.” 

And to answer, a chuckle escaped Logan’s lips. The drivers at the table couldn’t tell if Logan was doing this out of spite or not. However, this snapping was just a long time coming. 

“Yeah, jealous,” Logan bit back. “Jealous because you’ve been here since 2019 and have no wins to your name. Beaten by your rookie teammate in 2023. Beaten by me, the guy who you said had no business being in Formula 1. Now looking at it, maybe you’re just trying to make up for something.” 

Lando had had enough and quickly rose to his feet. Everyone else followed. Max took this time to quickly grab the blond’s arm, gently pulling him back. For Lando, it took both Pato and Oscar to hold him back. 

“Logan, that’s unfair.” 

Logan’s head whipped to where Alex was standing. 

“Unfair? You want to talk about unfair Alex? Then let’s talk about how your car always got upgrades. How I was always ordered to let you pass. How Williams said they’d give me a chance, like the one you didn’t have with Red Bull, but they didn’t. How you botched your race and I had to give up my perfectly fine car for the good of the team.” 

The blond was seething and Alex was hunching in on himself. If he couldn’t take it, then he shouldn’t have said anything. 

“That’s enough Logan.” 

He rolled his shoulders as he glanced at his “childhood friend.”

“You have something to say Oscar? Hm?”

Oscar’s eyes fell to the floor. He knew that fighting with Logan was a lost cause. Because, everything he was saying was 100 percent correct. However, Lando now wasn’t having anything with Logan going after the Aussie. 

“Hey!” he got the attention back on himself. “Oscar has done nothing but be kind to you, even when you were undeserving.”  

Now, a scoff left Logan’s lips. 

“Kind?” 

Max could tell that this was the breaking point, as he could see the glint of tears in the younger man’s eyes. 

“Any of you were nothing but kind. Do you truly believe that the actions you showed me were you being ‘kind?’ If that’s what you think that word means, I feel sorry for your loved ones.” 

Logan’s voice was slowly raising, gaining more attention than that which was already on them. 

“Alex? Were you being kind when you left me places that I had no clue where I was? That was kind right? Letting me get back late to every meeting because I couldn’t find my way back?” 

Logan wanted to let the tears fall, but like he knew, this had been a long time coming. 

“Oscar? Was it kind when you let all of my messages and calls be read or go to voicemail? And then you blame me for not wanting to spend time with you anymore? Because the last time I checked, I had to beg you to even tell you things. That’s kind? I hope you treat your girlfriend better than that.” 

Oscar, although he didn’t look down this time, looked close to tears as he felt as though someone was ripping his soul apart. Or maybe, that he had done that and was now paying the consequences. 

What Logan or the other drivers missed was that you and Charles had finally come back from the bar and were awestruck with how things were going down. You two did not move, scared to set Logan off anymore. 

“Lando? You like to talk about being kind. Kind to yourself and fans and fellow drivers. Was it kind when you told me that I should quit because I simply didn’t belong? Or that I should change careers because maybe then people would like me? Or should I tell the group that you told me to disappear because you wanted Oscar to be more focused on the team and not some childhood friend that he was worried about?” 

Everyone looked directly at Lando. Under the strobe lights, people could tell that the Briton was flush red. From anger or embarrassment? No one knew. 

Max gently pulled on Logan’s arm, trying to get him away from the group. 

“I think they get the point Logan,” the Dutchman muttered. But that did the opposite of what he wanted because the American yanked his arm out from his hand. 

“The point? Max? The point is that everyone treated me like absolute shit! Even you. Even Charles. Even Lewis. You all want to be better, treat me like a friend but all the harsh words don’t just go away with a follow on Instagram or one paddle game mate.” 

From beside you, Charles had the decency to at least look ashamed. You didn’t say anything, and just bit your lip. 

Logan pointed at George, the tall Briton now ready for his turn. But it never came. 

“George was the only driver to actually give a shit about me. And, no offence, but he was doing the bare minimum. But that small bit meant the world to me.” 

You could tell that Logan was losing it. You didn’t look at Charles as you handed him your glass. Thankfully, he took it with no argument. 

Logan flinched when he felt your arm tug his. The blond’s head finally felt in exhaustion. 

He had bared his heart and soul to a group, who in reality, still didn’t care much for him. But what was done was done. 

“Time to go,” you whispered. With a nod from Logan, you reached over to grab your bag. On your way past Max, you quickly thanked him for the time before shit hit the fan. The Dutchman could only give a small nod as you kept Logan in front of you. 

You almost breathed a sigh of relief when you got past the drivers. But Lando had to run his mouth one more time. 

“Sargeant?”

Logan froze before slowly turning around to look at the McLaren driver. Deep down, he was hoping that some sort of apology would come tumbling out of his mouth. Yet, it was the opposite. 

“Stay out of my way.” 

The blond male, who had been exhausted, found a little more energy to respond. He faintly smirked as he looked over his shoulder to respond.  

“We can’t make any promises now,” he stated before looking down at you, “can we babe?” 

pheonix95 has posted

phoenix95 isn't it delicate?

liked by tswizzlef1, venus2, y/n.nation, vogue, and 1,204,094 others

bee_lamborghini ayo the club looks fire 🔥🔥

lambo_duo am I the only one nervous as to what went on during the part?

lambo_fanclub no, so am I . . . but they posted which means they're ok tho? 🤷‍♀️

venus2 only delicate with you baby 😙

pheonix95 is it chill that you're in my head?

venus2 should be cause you never leave mine 🥰

paddle_sixtet no likes from Charles, max, lewis, or George?? 😭

venus&pheonix you both deserve the party and everything else!

ferrari+lambo i am now a child of divorce

venus2 has posted

venus2 this ain't for the best, but my reputation's never been worse so...

liked by lambo_duo, Dior, formulala_delulu, and 1,940,294 others

f1_gridgang seems like y/n has one move for a party 🤣

swift_on_track the delicate lyrics this weekend >>>>>

lambof1 no likes from the usual 4 on Logan's post too

my_goat_logan WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY 🤨

phoenix95 gonna love you for you ❤️

venus2 aw, you're being nice ☺️

pheonix95 I can take it back....

venus2 NO - ahem - I'm good ❤️

loscar_no_more if I find out that something happened between some certain drivers, it's on sight 😤

sargeantgirlie I don't want to believe the twitter page, but the lack of comments with the other four makes me nervous

ferrari&lambo_crew God, please bring my family back plssss 🙏

logan.nation unapologetic Logan is everything to me

pheonix&venus THE SECOND PIC OH MY GOSH

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

#logan sergeant x reader #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x you #grid dads lestappen #future grid dad lewis #grid bestie george #reputations fic #Logan finally breaks #but it's a good thing #lando is still an asshole #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 edition #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

[dreamescapeswriting]

Flirting With Fiction ~ BC

⤜WORD COUNT: 0.8K

⤜GENRE: Established relationship, cute, fluff, couples being cute, chan finding out the reader is reading smut

⤜PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The sun dipped low, casting a warm, golden glow into Chan's living room as he and you lounged together on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he lazily scrolled through his phone. It had been a day of lazy contentment, filled with shared laughter and easy conversation. But now, as the shadows lengthened, a curious silence fell between the two of you. Which was a little odd since you were usually the type to fill any kind of silence in the air. 

If there was one thing Chan knew about you it was that you hated when it was too quiet in the air and you needed to fill it. Chan glanced over at you, his brow furrowing in confusion at your uncharacteristic quietness. He worried something was wrong, maybe something had upset you or maybe he'd done it somehow. Panic built up inside of his chest and he swallowed the lump in his throat, putting his phone down.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, nudging you gently with his elbow. "You've been unusually quiet." He added a soft chuckle on the end to let you know he wasn't being mean about it. You jumped slightly, tearing your gaze away from the book you were holding in your hands, you shut it instantly and smiled up at him. 

Whenever you opened a book the words danced before your eyes, and you could feel yourself slipping away from the confines of reality. It was like a siren's call, luring you further into the depths of the world the book was created for you. The world completely fading into obscurity. You'd read in front of Chan before but never got so lost in the pages as much as you had tonight. The book just had a grip on you, something you couldn't put down.

"Oh, um, nothing," you murmured, attempting to hide the title with a feeble attempt at nonchalance since Chan had already caught you acting suspicious about it.

Chan arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a mischievous grin as he leaned closer to peer at the book, you pulled it to your chest doing your best to hide it from him but it was too late, he'd already caught a glimpse of the title.

"Hmm, 'Forbidden Desires: A Tale of Passion'?" he read aloud, a teasing lilt to his voice, your body heating up as you heard it said in a suggestive way from your boyfriend. Within seconds the book was taken from your grasp and Chan flicked through the pages, his eyes landing on the different highlighted passages you'd done. All in different coloured highlighters, some sentences or paragraphs underlined with small written words next to them. 

"Now, what might you be doing with a book like that?" He chuckled softly and you felt your whole body tingle with embarrassment as you attempted to snatch the book away, but he lifted it from your grasp and smirked a little. Chan knew you liked to read but he never would have imagined you liked to read something so steamy and suggestive, 

"It's nothing," you insisted, though your protests were weak at best, Chan couldn't help but look through the pages as he kept the book out of your reach.

"Nothing, huh? You sure seemed pretty engrossed in it," he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement. His eyes moved back to the book as he read the passages highlighted in pink and instantly his cheeks began to turn red.

You huffed in mock annoyance, swatting at Chan's hand in a futile attempt to reclaim the book, he stared down at you and you bit down on your lip. 

"Fine, you caught me," You admitted with a sheepish grin. "But it's not like I'm reading it for any particular reason." You mumbled a little and Chan raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing at his lips. 

"Oh, really? So you just randomly decided to pick up a steamy romance novel?" You rolled her eyes, though there was a sparkle of amusement in your gaze. You picked up books all of the time, spice or no spice but this one just so happened to be one of the spicest books you'd ever had the pleasure of reading. 

"Okay, maybe I was looking for a little... escapism," you confessed, your cheeks burning up so hot you were sure you'd be able to cook on them at this point. Chan laughed, finally relenting and handing the book back to you. 

"Well, as long as it's keeping you entertained," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, you settled back into a comfortable reading position, finding the page you'd been on since you hadn't had time to place a bookmark earlier. 

"But next time, maybe just tell me you need some alone time to indulge in your spicy reads." He whispers against your ear, his breath catching on your skin making you shiver.

"Or I can maybe help recreate any scenes you want, it's up to you," He added as you whimpered, snuggling closer to him,

"Deal," You agreed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the easy familiarity of your banter.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #chan #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines

[randomshyperson]

The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.

Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k

A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3

-&-

The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.

Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”

Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 

“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”

“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”

The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.

“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”

Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.

-&-

A stupid tree.

A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.

That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.

She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.

But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.

When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.

She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.

“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”

It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.

Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.

“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 

She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 

Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.

“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”

You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”

She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”

Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.

A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 

Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 

You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 

Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 

Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.

“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 

No. No thinking about this, not now.

She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.

She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 

“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.

“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.

“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.

“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.

“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.

Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.

Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 

You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.

When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.

“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 

There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”

But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.

“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.

For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.

“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”

You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 

“Can you use your words?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”

She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 

But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.

“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.

“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.

It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.

The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.

To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.

Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.

“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”

“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”

You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 

Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 

“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 

Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 

Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 

It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.

She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.

“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.

“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 

As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”

Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.

She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.

“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”

You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.

“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.

You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.

Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.

“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 

“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 

“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”

You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.

Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.

Some old habits never die.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots #wanda maximoff smut

[chiptrillino]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

got tagged by @ranilla-bean with these huge eyes and expectation of sharing something specific, which i now pretend to completely forget what it was! also i forgot that i should share one thing but i already prepped 6 different ones soo... uhhh

(ID in ALT text)

tagging with absolutely no pressure, but if you would like to do! @ssreeder @chitsangenthusiast @petricorah @paramouradrift @blu3berrydraws and uh. -pointing at whom this perhaps could be crossing on the dash!- no seriously, tag me, i am noisy and curious!

#chip!art #tag game #zuko #sokka #yue #suki #tumblr please don't flag me for the small pixelated part. seriously please don't!

[koinotame]

how dangerous the twst cast is as yanderes

content warnings: this is yandere stuff so plenty of relationships and mindsets of questionable healthiness. reader implied to be yuu. mentions of murder and violence (nothing explicit/graphic, but frequent. mostly not aimed at reader). most are pretty ambiguous wrt being romantic or platonic (though it’s assumed they have an at least somewhat close relationship with you). i don’t think there’s any explicit spoilers but this was written with mostly-up-to-date knowledge so maybe beware if you really want to avoid any spoilers

whole main cast is included, under the cut for length (near 4k words)! if you read ortho's section as incestuous or romantic in any other way i will shoot a laser beam at you.

fairly harmless overall ▸ i actually normally wouldn't put them together, but in either case i can't see either of the adeuce duo being too dangerous to others. yeah, they might beat someone up for getting too close to you or hurting you, but i really really can't see either of them going much farther. deuce in particular used to be a delinquent, and he does sometimes slip back into that mindset, and he does know how to beat someone up well… but he's a good boy now. your good boy. even in his delinquent phase he would've never actually killed someone, and the idea horrifies him a little too much to ever seriously consider. ace has a bit less restraint, but also a lot less experience. what he lacks in experience he does more than make up for in wit and quick learning, but… while the thought does cross his mind occasionally, he wouldn't be able to stomach actually killing someone either. he'll beat someone up if they hurt you or you ask him to though. unlike deuce, he'll probably brag about it to you if he knows your reaction would be positive.

▸ don’t you worry! your cay-kun would never kill someone! in fact, cater is very unlikely to get violent at all. when he gets jealous (which happens pretty often), he turns that bitterness inside. what do they have that he doesn’t? do you like quieter guys? is he too obsessed with magicam? do you not like the way he doesn’t let you in unless you push, because he’s too afraid you won’t like what you find and leave? is he not affectionate enough? do you not like his hair? it doesn’t matter what it is about him that you don’t like, about others that you do like. he’ll fix the problem; he’ll fix himself. he’s already used to putting on acts around others—this isn’t that different. even if it’s not him you like at this point, as long as he can stay by your side, it’ll be fine. there’s a desperate edge to his actions that’s hard to spot, but once you have is impossible to unsee. as long as you continue liking him, he’ll throw away who he is—just. don’t throw him aside once you’re bored of him, okay? keep him around forever. please. ▸ jack is another that’s fairly harmless. it’s in his nature to be overprotective, and he doesn’t see much wrong with that, but he has no issue with your friends and he’s pretty reasonable at telling apart actual threats from things like jokes. he’s much like your guard dog… or maybe he’s more like guard puppy, with the way you doubt he’d ever actually hurt anyone despite his big stature. he’s embarrassed when you tell him this, but the wagging of his tail gives away just how much he likes knowing you’re okay with—even like—his constant presence. he’s not… completely against going behind your back when someone is actually about to hurt you to deal with he issue, though. just… just occasionally, when it’s really necessary. he won’t make a habit of it. he just… doesn’t want you to see him like that. he’d never want to scare you. that’s all.

a bit less harmless but not by (too) much ▸ riddle is good and well behaved and refuses to resort to something as drastic as violence or murder, or at least he’s trying very hard to convince himself so. he’s definitely somewhat tyrannical to everyone around you even after he mellows out after his overblot, and he has no hesitation in punishing those who hurt or displease you, especially his own dormmates. even once both of you graduate, this habit of his never quite vanishes. he gets a little frantic if you show disapproval of his actions though, especially if you seem scared of him. he’s desperate to prove that he’s good and loves you and would never hurt you, and if that means toning down his ardour, he’ll try his best. the stress of possibly losing you just makes him all the more overbearing to everyone around him. he’s trying his best for you though, so… don’t you love him as much as he loves you? won’t you turns your eyes back to him and only him? ▸ kalim would never kill someone! nor would he have someone be killed. but his family's wealth and influence extends far, and anyone seeking to hurt you (or him through you) would be a fool to think otherwise. he'd never kill someone, but making sure they end up rotting in prison for the rest of their life is just doing the right thing! he might be a little blinded by his panic, sure, but— they tried to hurt you! if he's really jealous (something that doesn't happen often—he only has eyes for you, after all, so he tends to not think too much about others), it's not hard to just have them transfer. or be fired. or something. he won't tell you outright, but if you ask he sees no point in hiding it from you. if you don't react well, he gets a little frantic and insists that he really really really wouldn't ever go farther than that…! probably. ▸ epel getting into yet another fistfight for you is something you’ve grown unfortunately used to. you’re frankly convinced he outright wants you to see at this point, maybe in some misconceived idea it’ll make you think he’s tough, with the way he runs up to you like a puppy expecting praise afterwards. he’ll be torn if you fuss over him afterwards—on one hand, he wants you to think he’s tough and your coddling doesn’t really give the impression that you understand that, but it feels really, really nice when your attention is focused on only him. but as unrestrained as epel is, he’s not particularly dangerous. if you seem really put off by his actions, he might even rein it in a little (vil is glad for your cooperation, even if that wasn’t your intention). he’s more preoccupied with earning your attention and approval than he is with stuff like keeping other suitors away from you. ▸ i just think it’d be really funny if despite everything about him, rook is one of the most harmless. he’s the type of yandere to have a shrine (it’s not in his closet because he has no shame) and have his room covered in notes about you but who’d never actually kill someone. he’s also… the type who enjoys and loves everything about you. to rook, the journey is more important than the destination, and that includes you. the you on your own, the you around your friends (not that they’ll stick around too much once they notice rook), and the you around him are all different and equally worth loving. he’s not exactly shy about his stalking either, but once you get used to his constant presence, it doesn’t really get worse. maybe a little more intense, but not worse. he’s fine with pretty much any way you want to treat him, too—whether you treat him like a beloved pet or a plaything or act like you don’t know or notice him, he’ll love you all the same. forever.

holds themselves back… but not because of ethics ▸ when trey thinks about the future he wants with you, he allows himself to imagine what it would be like to be so wholly engrossed in each other that everything else might as well not exist. unfortunately, the two of you live in real life and not in a fairy tale, so he’s settled for the idea of eventually settling down and growing old with you. it’s… not entirely ethics that holds him back. he’s aware that most of the urges he gets when he sees you around others or when he sees you get hurt in someway are immoral, and he reigns himself in. aside from some people in your life suddenly finding it odd how the ever dependable senior suddenly doesn’t seem to like them much and has been giving them the cold shoulder, most people are very unlikely to realise there’s anything off about trey… including you. just let him be your normal (if fairly fussy) boyfriend, okay? and if he occasionally slips a bit of a sleeping potion into your food and masks the taste with his unique magic so you end up staying the night just so he can spend a little more time with you… that can be his little secret. ▸ it's definitely not ethics that holds ruggie back, but it would be a serious problem if he gets caught killing someone. or even just gets particularly violent with someone else. he'd do it in a heartbeat, especially for you (especially if you asked him), don't get him wrong, but, well— if he goes to jail, he's fucking his family over. if he goes to jail, he won't be able to provide for you in the future—or have any sort of relationship with you. his resolve might waver if you were to actually ask, but even then he’s determined to stick to actions he can reasonably get away with. it's not uncommon for him to use laugh with me to embarrass any guys he thinks are getting too close to you though, and it's not too hard to be discreet with his unique magic when someone really deserves to fall face down a flight of stairs. or three. oopsie. odd they don't remember it, huh? well, he had nothing to do with that. ▸ jamil is a bit more restrained. murder is fine (it’s definitely not his first resort, but it’s there as an option if he really needs it—he did kind of try to kill five people, even if it was during his overblot), but using snake whisper is just so much more convenient… most of the time. due to his position as a servant of kalim, he has to carefully consider any actions he takes unless he wants there to be dire consequences for his family. unfortunately for him, this means he can’t just beat up anyone getting too close to you no matter how much he may feel like it. his unique magic does work well for him here though—and he’s not opposed to using more force if there’s a good reason (like impressing you and getting complimented by y—ehem. making sure your bullies won’t bother you again). the one person he’d rather not use his unique magic on is you. what he likes so much about you is that you’re choosing him of your own volition, and that’s worth more than any force could get him.

not the worst, but… ▸ azul tries really, really hard to keep everything he does behind your back, well. behind your back. he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty, but it would be a serious problem if you found out about the students he's been tricking into unfair contracts just because he got jealous. and it'd be one thing if it ended there, but more than that… if anyone hurts you, the tweels haven't amassed a certain reputation for nothing. if azul’s this fond of you, there’s a very high chance they’re familiar with you as well—and even if they weren’t, azul being jealous enough to send them after people that aren’t even remotely threatening your relationship is amusing enough for them to comply. he won’t go too far though, no matter how envious he may get. ruining someone’s reputation, having the twins beat them up or tricking them into unfair deals is one thing, but even someone like azul wouldn’t resort to cold-blooded murder. ▸ remember when vil, pretty lucid, tried to poison neige? yeah. with his unique magic and social standing, it would be really easy to get rid of anyone causing you issues. of course, with you being aware of his unique magic, he’d have to be careful to make sure you don’t realise, so it’s something he’d reserve for only actual emergencies. it’s also a lot easier to abuse his influence and fame to keep others away from you, whether it’s by threatening them himself or getting others to do his dirty work for him. when it comes to you and keeping your attention on him, he finds it much more rewarding to keep working on himself to meet your standards and doting on you even much than he already does. keep your eyes on him and only on him, won’t you? he’ll make it worth your while. ▸ idia, as a yandere, is incredibly desperate. he’s already perfectly content (well, not perfectly, but content enough) to just watch you through his screen and maybe chat with you online (with your anonymous pal who you definitely don’t know irl, of course), so if he gets lucky enough to be with you for real, there’s very little he won’t be willing to do to ensure it stays that way. in practice this means trying to appeal to you more than anything else; if you seem even the slightest bit unhappy with him, he’s desperately trying to fix it immediately. do you think he’s too offputting? he’ll cover his mouth and hair and— are you mad because he tried to convince you to ditch your friends and just stay with him again? he’s sorry! he doesn’t have an excuse, he’s just scared that you’ll realise you could do so much better and don’t like him that much after all. sometimes he thinks about how he definitely has the resources for more forceful and permanent measures, but then you smile at him, or tell him his smile is pretty, or run your fingers through his hair, or laugh at a comment he made and his mind goes blank and gives him a 404 error. there’s no way he could ever give that up just for some measly certainty… though the same can’t be said for those who he gets too jealous of or those who hurt you. not that you need to know that.

not needlessly violent ▸ sebek is… very enthusiastic about the things he dedicates himself to. this includes you. if you thought his devotion to malleus was excessive, it’s even worse when it comes to you. while he has no personal issues with fighting if it means protecting you (whether that protecting includes only actual threats is debatable), he takes pride in his position as malleus’ retainer. this means that no matter how he feels, he has to consider how his actions would make briar valley and his lord look. he also doesn’t really get jealous. instead (and this is almost worse), he has his own idea of how everyone else should treat you and he does get aggressive with others if he doesn’t think they’re treating you right. you deserve a heavy amount of respect and he finds it very aggravating when others don’t give you that (see: treat you like a regular person). he’s not subtle either—if anything, going behind your back on this would go against his values. he wants to be useful to you!!! he wants you to know how much he cares and how you’re superior and the one with all the power in this relationship!!! the good thing is he listens to everything to ask of him, no matter how ridiculous he finds you insisting you prefer being treated casually by your friends and peers. ▸ silver, while less outwardly enthusiastic, is no less devoted. he doesn’t really get jealous (there’s a dull ache in his chest when he sees you with others and thinks about the possibility of someone being more important to you than you are to him, but that’s not jealousy, right?), and he’s fairly realistic about what counts as a threat to you and what doesn’t. the problem is that as soon as something crosses that threshold, he’s drawing his wand (or baton. or sword. he’s trained and prepared with all three). it’s almost scarier than if he were enjoying it, because you have absolutely no clue how far he’s willing to go for your safety—or if he even has any limits when it comes to you. he has a rather twisted view on relationships, and that extends to you. you’ve been so kind and accommodating and caring, and he needs to repay you for that. he’s insistent on serving you, because his entire self worth (and by extension any care you’ve gracefully granted him) relies on being useful. also doesn’t really see himself as your proper equal, though he’s less aware of this compared to sebek, and also listens well to just about anything you ask of him. if it’s for you, he’d do anything. ▸ you have a very different definition of "not needlessly violent" than lilia, but it’s at least true he doesn’t go around picking fights. he's not bothered at all by baby chicks clinging too close to you. if anything, he might pop into the conversation and agree with them—you are great and wonderful and adorable and so much more! it makes the conversation kind of awkward, and whoever you were talking to might not seek you out as much afterwards, but beyond teasing you there's never any indication that he goes any further. of course, violence is something he’s been very accustomed to over his long life, so when someone actually hurts you he has no issue with getting the message across in a more… drastic way. as soon as he's done, he's right back to coddling you. they won't be repeating the same mistake again, so don't worry too much about it and stick close to him from now on, okay?

very needlessly violent ▸ violent probably isn’t the best way to describe leona, but he doesn’t hold back when it comes to you. what, you think he’s just going to sit back and let you go? you’re the best thing that’s happened to him, like hell he’s going to not put in the proper effort in keeping you. …even if you’re not sure if you entirely agree with the sentiment. he gets jealous very often, so it’s common to see him glowering and scaring off anyone he deems too close to you. there’s no need to go further when he knows they’ll leave you both alone afterwards, but the threat only works as well as it does because he has both the magical prowess and social influence to make good on his promises. he’ll insist he doesn’t see them as threats so much as pests hanging around and leeching off of you, but there’s some part of him deep down that’s scared you’ll decide you like someone else better after all. he’s not sure he could take even you leaving him. any actual danger to you is also dealt with quickly, and while he doesn’t want to threaten you into it, you won’t have an easy time abandoning him even if you try. you were the one who wormed your way into his life—you don’t get to leave now. ▸ yeah. lol. the tweels are very, very needlessly violent. perhaps not the most Dangerous in the grand scale, but almost definitely some of the most unpleasant. for their victims, at any rate—though they do occasionally (or not so occasionally) nearly give you a heart attack. they’d never seriously harm you though… probably. or actually kill anyone. right…? floyd tends to be the most immediately dangerous. he’s quick to turn to violence (and to get a little too into it) when you’re involved, even more than usual. someone’s bothering you? someone’s getting a bit too close to you in his opinion? you just want him to? you’re not paying enough attention to him and he knows this’ll get your focus back on him, where it should be? :) he’s not too hard to pacify, at least when it’s you offering to let him rest on your lap or offering to spend the whole day with him. jade is usually clocked as less dangerous than floyd, but. well. you know that line he says when he ruminates on how he’d react if betrayed? yeah. unlike floyd, who’s very open about his misdeeds, you’re not actually sure what jade does behind your back. you don’t want to know. the way some people in your life pale and flee at the sight of you, the way you don’t see some of them again at all, and the way jade smiles when this happens tells you all you need to know. what would happen if you betrayed him? fufu, you’d never do that so there’s no need to worry about it. ▸ didn't he attempt to blow up the school once… 💀 yeah, as cute as ortho is he's not exactly built with too many stop guards. the good news is he's easy to dissuade! the bad news is he's also very quick to escalate to really ridiculous levels. you're his older sibling, it's only natural he'd want to protect you! are you sure you don't need him to blow them up? chances are the threat alone worked well enough to deter anyone from messing with you again. you might want to have a conversation with idia about limiting some of ortho's abilities though because his enthusiasm… is a little very concerning… he does get a little jealous occasionally, but it's much easier to insert himself in the conversation and steal your attention that way. isn't your little brother cute? won't you focus some more on him? please?

▸ malleus is… malleus. violence isn’t his first resort, largely because it just… doesn’t need to be. he’s one of the five most powerful mages in the entire world. that title alone is enough to scare off anyone who’d mean to hurt you or is getting too close to you, so he rarely has to intervene in the first place. he also doesn’t mind you having other friends (though he does get lonely in your absence… make sure to make it up to him afterwards), so he really only steps in when you’re in danger. he’s not particularly worried about getting caught by you, because he’s so out of touch that it doesn’t occur to him that you may not appreciate him turning anyone who hurt you into ashes. if anything, he enjoys showing off how capable of keeping you safe he is. he’s defending you, who he cares about most in the world; why would that upset you? if you try to spin it as being worried about him getting into trouble for killing someone, he’ll be very pleased you’re worried about him instead. the only thing that would crack his calm attitude is any sort of reminder that he will long, long outlive you… but it’s best not to dwell on that. fret not, he won’t ever let you go.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #i. am NOT tagging everyone #sorry for the awkward line breaks. the editor has it out for me specifically

[auteurdelabre]

PLEASE MISTER MILLER SEQUEL PART 7 - BFD!Joel x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (MAJOR FILTH IN THIS ONE)

pairings: Your Best Friends Dad Joel x f!Reader

warnings: FILTH, age gap, divorce, domestic bliss, public-ish sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, all the sex and all the fluff, slightly possessive Joel, love love love.

a/n: Y'all I had major writers block with this one. Took me a bit but I think I got us there. One more chapter after this to go and I'm unsure of how to end it. . . Dunno what these two idiots deserve.

masterlist here

There's something strange about entering into Joel's home after all these months that makes your heart pound.  Joel carries your bags for you, chatting animatedly that the place might look different. His voice fades into the back of your mind as you look around. It all feels so surreal to be back in this house. Bizarre to see how Joel has made the place more his own in the short time since his separation. 

For one thing the frames that contained photos of Tess are gone. The only ones that remain are of him and Sarah smiling toothily at the camera.  Its clear Tess has not been in the picture for some time, despite her last ditch effort to connect.

A bunch of the furniture seems new as well. The sofa he fucked you on last Christmas has been replaced by a smaller, more streamlined looking leather piece and most of the knick knacks and colorful items from the rooms have been removed. The TV is propped up on a plastic stand that looks garish amongst the more subdued and tasteful décor.

The place is definitely a bachelor pad. 

The bedroom has been painted not green, but a gentle blue and that makes your heart clench tightly. The bed is new, has grey sheets and plush looking pillows. A stationary bike is in the corner.  The dresser is adorned with coins, old receipts, CD’s, pencils and a variety of other things one would normally find in a carpenter’s pockets. No longer in wicker baskets or small decorative dishes.

“Now you don’t have to stay in here,” Joel says seriously, his hand still on your suitcase handle as you glance around his bedroom. “We can set you up in the guest room like before no problem. That way you’ll still have your own space.”

You frown at him. “You want me in the guest room?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Joel.”

He sighs softly. “No, I don’t, not really.”

“So I can stay in here with you?”

“Only if you wa-“

You stop his rambling with a kiss before taking the handle from him and rolling it to the far side of the room. 

“Can I put my stuff in the closet? Or dresser?”

“Both.”

You start to unpack and Joel watches this with a soft little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dinner is pizza sat on the glass coffee table, watching a movie you two could agree on. You spend most of it sneaking glances at Joel’s profile from the corner of your eye. You find yourself completely taken with everything about him – how his salt and pepper curls fall into his forehead, how his jaw clenches when he chews his pizza, how he huffs through his nose when he’s amused at something in the movie.

You’re pathetically in love with him.

Hours later the two of you collapse onto the bed side by side, too tired from the day’s travel to do anything other than sleep. Despite this, Joel takes great pleasure in watching you shimmy out of your jeans and shirt, pulling on your nightdress and climbing back into bed with him.

“Goodnight baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you into his arms, tucking you there underneath his chin after a soft kiss. “M’so glad you’re here.”

///

You've woken up next to Joel several times in hotel beds, but never his own. So when the sun lazily makes its way into the bedroom that first morning and you blink awake, you're almost startled to see him sleeping there next to you. You take in the grey of his bed sheets, the way his mouth parts slightly in his sleep, the way his hair is tousled from sleep and you feel your heart swell. 

"Morning, honey," you whisper. "You wanna get coffee?"

"Nuh uh," he mutters, eyes still closed. An arm slides over your waist, pulling you against him. "Want you."

Fucking in Joel's bed is just as delicious a fucking him in your dorm at college. Only now you don't have to rush or panic. You can just enjoy the way his skin looks in the morning sun as he buries his mouth between your legs with your thighs at his ears, his hands gripping your ass so he can devour you properly. 

"Right there!" You cry out, body arching for him. "M’so close, I just-"

You come with a shuddering cry, piercing the peaceful quiet of the bedroom.  Joel grins, mouth glistening with your arousal. He climbs up the length of your body, mouth ravishing yours before he urges you onto your belly. His body is heavy over yours, his mouth rasping against your ear.

“My turn.”

Joel gathers your hair into a ponytail, wrapping it around his palm and tugging you onto all fours for him. You give a soft whimper, delighted at the tugging sensation on your scalp. Joel grins, tugging you gently again by the hair as his free hand grips your thigh, urging you to arch ass in the air for him.

He sinks into you slowly, but when you whimper at the sensation and arch further the angle of your shifting hips allows his stroke to drive deeper. Already turned on out of his mind, Joel begins to thrust deep and fast, causing your eyes to roll back as you groan. 

"You like that?" Joel grunts, his hips snapping against your ass. 

"Uh huh." 

He continues on like this with his hand wrapped in your hair, tugging you gently as he fucks into you. He checks in with you every once in a while, a soft kiss to your shoulder and a husky ‘you still okay?’ before he continues with you groaning your desire for him to go harder and deeper.

He pounds into you with intensity, the rhythm of his fingers on your clit staying steady.You come with a shuddering cry, head lolled forward and Joel’s cock sawing in and out of you, his fingers dancing on your clit.

“Whose girl are you?”

“Yours,” you groan, flesh rippling as his hips slap against your ass in a frenzy.

"That's right," Joel growls before he nips at your earlobe. "Now prove it and soak my cock."

You cry out his name before thrusting yourself back against his cock.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he coos as you come down.

You hear his ragged grunts as you climax but notice that he begins to slow, his cock slowly dragging and plunging before tapering off. You look over your shoulder at him, your cheeks flushed. Joel is looking down at you with a strange look on his face. 

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Was thinking of tryin' somethin'," he murmurs, dark eyes sliding over your naked body as he gently pulls from you.  “You up for somethin’ a lil different?”

"Anything you want," you tell him honestly. And you mean it; Joel can use your body in any way he desires. You trust him absolutely. He’s never given you reason to doubt him. His face lights up almost boyishly as he grins down at you. 

"Yeah?"

You nod and he practically leaps off the bed. You grin, taking time to appreciate the sight of his deliciously taut ass twitching as his naked frame pads over to the dresser where he threw his jeans last night.  

You watch in quiet fascination as he un-loops the dark brown leather belt from the pair, sliding it around his palm as he looks over at you. 

"You've used a belt before," you remind him as he moves towards the bed, hard cock bobbing as you think of how he used a belt to bind your wrists once. 

"Not like this," Joel slides his tongue into his opposite cheek as he crawls back onto the bed behind you. His large palm slides over the curve of your ass, gripping a moment. You can feel his eyes on your naked body, heavy and hot. 

 "You trust me?" 

"Yes."

There's no hesitation, no balking. You simply rest there on your hands and knees, waiting. 

You feel Joel continue to watch you, no doubt observing the gathering slick of your cunt and the shine of it on your inner thighs. His hot and heavy breath is there at your ass, giving you a sharp nip on your left cheek that has you yelp and him chuckle. His warm hand soothes the sting immediately.

"So gorgeous," Joel murmurs as he kisses his way up your naked spine. You bow, wanting him to press his lips to every vertebra, to tattoo your body with his tongue and mouth. You feel him behind you, the warmth of his body curling over you as his mouth drags over your shoulder blade, slow and sensual. 

"You’re so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?"

His mouth is at your jaw as he asks this and by answer you tilt your head to capture his lips against yours. He makes a low noise, his hand going to curve around your throat, holding you there so that he can kiss you at his leisure, sucking your tongue into his mouth as your cunt weeps.

“Keep bein’ good, yeah?”

You feel him circle the leather around your waist, the sensation drawing a soft gasp from you. His eyes drift to your wait as he tightens the belt before notching it. It’s almost as if he expects you to wear it, only he keeps the tail end of it firmly gripped in his palm. 

"Tell me if it's too tight." 

"S'not," you purr, finding the sensation of leather biting into your hips and belly to be a turn on more than anything. 

He tugs gently, urging you back towards him before giving the belt some slack. His free hand is at your ass again, rubbing sweet circles over the mark he’s left. You feel him on his knees, bending back to look at you.

"Show me what's mine, baby."

You sigh contentedly, forcing your legs apart further, ass in the air, your face resting on the mattress. You know from where he kneels behind you be can see everything, including your puffy pussy completely drenched. 

You whimper slightly at the sound of Joel's groan. 

“Yeah, she’s all mine.”

Joel watches your muscles roll and skin prickle in anticipation and he can't stop himself from rubbing his palm up your spine, his fingers tracing where his mouth and tongue have travelled. 

You whimper again, cunt twitching as fresh arousal gathers there. Joel swallows a growl and you feel him notch himself at your entrance, guiding the head of his cock against your clit before sinking into your dripping cunt. 

“Joel!”

From this angle he feels so big, filling you so well. Your cunt almost stings from how big. When he begins to move you grip onto the bed sheets, body jolting as you let out little mewls of pleasure.

"So fuckin' good," Joel groans out between clenched teeth. He pulls out slowly, wanting to see his cock glossy with your slick before he’s sinking between your lips again.  He does it again and again, pulling out slowly, admiring how your pussy looks when its empty and then stuffed full of him.

He does this for several moments, working you up and making you cry out his name in broken little whispers. 

“Please, Joel.”

"I made you come twice already," Joel reminds you with a teasing edge to his voice. "Now you’re gonna lay there and let me fuck you full a' my come, pretty girl." 

All at once you feel him tug the belt back abruptly, sending you sliding back along his length as he thrusts forward and buries himself to the hilt. He does this over and over until you hear the squelching sounds of him fucking into you. It’s obscene and dirty and you fucking love it.

"You gonna do that?" You hear the smile in his voice as his hips start to pick up the pace. "Gonna let me fuck you full?"

The bite of the leather against your skin mixing with the feel of Joel's hips slapping against your thighs is making you quickly unravel. 

"Yes, Joel!" You cry out, not in pain but in pleasure. 

You surrender to his thrusts, sliding back as he pushes forward, using the belt to keep you at the perfect fucking distance. You hear his panting and the sound of your sweaty bodies smacking against one another. 

"What a bad fuckin' girl," Joel taunts as his hips slap your ass over and over at increasingly quicker intervals. "Came twice and she's so cock drunk she's gonna gimme another one."

"N-no Joel," you manage. "Gonna make you come." 

"Don't think you can," Joel rasps with a husky chuckle. "Think my bad girl needs to soak my cock again."

You cry out at the sensation of his length hitting you so deep. But the burning desire to do good, to pleasure him overrides this. 

"Wanna make you come, Joel. M'not a bad girl," you tell him almost petulantly as you move up the bed with a particularly aggressive thrust from Joel.  

"Oh no?" he grinds himself against your ass, tugging the belt again. "Show me how good you can be." 

You slide yourself back against the length of him, smiling into the pillow when you hear his shaky inhale. You do it again, slowly welcoming him deep before sliding off, the tip teasing your entrance before you feel the tug of his belt, forcing you back.

"Uh huh that's my good girl," Joel pants, surprising you by landing a quick slap to your ass with his free hand. "Yeah, that's it. Fuck yourself on it for me."

Your ass bounces as you bow your back for him, desperate for him to take what he wants. You urge him deeper, moaning as his hand gives you another swat on the other cheek.

"Deeper," you beg him, not just to make him feel good but because you're so fucking close. 

"You’re so goddam good," he tells you as he buries himself, sawing in and out of your slippery cunt. He tugs the belt, pulling you back along his cock over and over. You cry out loud from the dual sensations of Joel's cock and the leather belt. 

You feel as a few of his fingers slide under the waist of the belt, holding you more firmly in place as he begins to jackhammer his cock into your slot deeper than ever. It makes your whimpers come out in little huffs, your body shaking with each plunge of him between your thighs.

"Take... It.... Just... Like .. That." Each word is barked out with a pump of his cock into your cunt. "Good ... Girl."

You give out sharp little grunts with every thrust of him from behind you, your hands fisting in the sheets as your eyes roll back. He holds you firmly by the belt, head tilted back as his cock kisses your cervix.

"Stay right there," he pants, hips rolling aggressively now. "N'make me feel good."

"Yes," you promise, breasts shaking as he fucks harder and deeper into you. His hips slap loudly in against your ass, his cock so thick and so soaked as he slides between your swollen folds. You keen as his cock forces itself deeper and he starts grunting louder, punched out with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck I  love yo-“

He can't finish the sentence. He's coming hard, pulsing into you as he grips your body, his lips pressed to your cheek, gasping as he thrusts. Your arm goes to bend around his neck, your flesh jolting as he uses you to finish. You smile through your mutual panting, finding his mouth as you tilt your head.

“I love you too, Joel.”

///

You wake up the first few days after staying with Joel with a coiled tension in your body.

There is a small part of you that is terrified that this is all going too good. That perhaps now that you know Joel is getting divorced and the forbidden aspect of the relationship is over that it will dampen your ardor for him. That his biggest fears he had about you will come true. 

But they don’t.

If anything your capacity for loving him grows. Doing crosswords together over coffee in the morning, going for walks hand-in-hand in the park near his house. Laughing over something stupid on the TV, playing cards late into the night.

He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He holds you in his arms when you drift off to sleep. You feel a safety and a contentment you’ve never experienced before. Always waiting for the shoe to drop, but it never does.

And of course there’s the fucking everywhere, almost as if Joel has a personal mission to make sure you come in every single room. You don’t mind at all. In fact you encourage it one morning by bringing out the snowflake skirt from Christmas that you packed at the bottom of your bag, giggling in your dorm.

You put it on over a tight white tank top and bend over in front of him to grab the milk from the fridge, giving a soft “morning baby.” You can feel his sleepy gaze from beside the coffee maker and you arch slightly, pretending to not see what you’re looking for. You’re just starting to wonder if he’s noticed you’re not wearing panties when you hear him fall to his knees behind you, turning you around and fucking you with his tongue.

Seems Joel isn’t bored either.

///

Bitch I miss u! [sadface.jpg]

Sarah attaches a sad-looking selfie to the text that makes you giggle. Your time in Austin is limited, only two weeks remain before you head back home, so you have to think to the future even if that’s the last thing you want to do.

I miss you more! How is Chile?

I love it! We went stargazing in the Atacama Desert last night! [desert.jpg]

Holy shit you look so hot!

(EMOJI) Must be all the Chilean sunshine. You should be out here enjoying with your guy.

You feel your throat tighten. You can’t tell her that things are going well with your ‘guy’. She’ll want a photo. And you know she’ll recognize her own fucking house in the background no matter where you stand. Same goes for any coffee shops or local hot spots. So you try to change the topic.

How's Charlie?

Not so good. He just got an email about the job he applied for. He didn't get it so he'll jobless in September. We’re both pretty upset.

I'm so sorry. 

You frown at your phone, reading your text from Sarah. She seems pretty down about the whole Charlie thing. Sarah’s always been a planner, so you know that changes like this can really set her off.  She and Charlie had planned on San Diego for their next steps and it had seemed like Charlie was a shoo in. Sarah was already talking about the cute apartment they were gonna get after their travels. Your heart breaks for your friend.

It’s okay. I just wanted to say I miss u. Hope ur having fun with your guy since you loooooooooooooove him so much. One day you’re gonna have to send me a photo for approval. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for u.

I promise he is.

The door to the bathroom opens just then and a waft of steam exits, along with the scent of bergamot and whatever else is in Joel’s shampoo. He’s wearing only his boxers and the towel is slung over his shoulder as he rubs at his damp curls.

“Mornin’ baby.”

You watch him go to the dresser and pull on his black Miller Construction t-shirt, biceps bulging.

You lay in bed, gazing up at a freshly showered Joel who looks and smells so fucking sexy your pussy throbs. His broad shoulders ripple under the strained t-shirt fabric as he drags a comb through his wet hair.

“Do you really have to go back to work today?”

It’s been two weeks of just existing in this blissful cocoon of eating and laughing and fucking. You don’t want it to end, but of course life has to intrude.

“F’raid so, baby. I’m the boss and I better show my face before they start likin’ Tommy better.”

“Not possible,” you tell him with a grin.

“But to make up for it, I’m takin’ you out tonight,” he tells you, his dark eyes staring at you in the mirror’s reflection.

“A date?” you’re on your knees now, hands excitedly clasped in your lap. “Where?”

He drops the comb on the dresser, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, dragging your mouth to his only to stop an inch from your mouth.

“S’a surprise pretty girl.”

“How should I dress?”

“However you want,” he shrugs before kissing you softly. You hold in an eye roll at this. Men just don’t understand fashion.

He prepares to stand but he smells so good and he looks even better. His curls are drying into soft little salt and pepper waves and you need to have him. You pull him back for another kiss, tongue’s dabbing.

“Do you really have to go right now?” you ask with a teasing lilt. Your hand drifts between his legs and you smirk when you see his eyelids flutter.

“Yes,” he says sternly, his hand covering yours.

“Just five minutes,” you urge, hands coming to unbuckle his jeans, drawing down the zipper and sighing when his warm cock comes alive in your palm.

“I-I have to go,” he breathes against your mouth. “I gotta-”

“Just lemme make you come,” you whisper, kissing his jaw. “I wanna make you come, Daddy.”

Joel tries so hard to regain his thoughts but you’ve started stroking and he’s powerless. It isn’t long before he’s driving you into the mattress, hips snapping against yours and moaning your name into your shoulder as he tells you time and time again that he’s late, that he has to go, that… oh fuck you feel amazing.

It’s an hour later when Joel finally rushes out of the house, still pulling down his t-shirt as he starts the truck.

///

You’re sitting on the couch, going through job applications for back home as you wait for Joel to arrive for your date night. You’ve only got a week or so left here in Austin before you have to go back to your depressing life. You need to have a plan, a place to rent. You can’t move back with your awful parents. Parents who haven’t sent you as much as an e-mail since your blow up at graduation.  

The doorbell rings, surprising you into dropping your phone. You wait a moment, eyes wide as you stare at the door. Joel has never told you one way or the other if you should answer it. What if it’s Tess? What if it’s a nosy neighbor?

Ding dong.

Fuck it. If it’s a neighbor you’ll tell them you’re a friend of the family. If it’s Tess…well… You don’t know what to do about that.

You straighten your dress, trying to look composed as you sail to the door, opening it a crack and peeking your head around.

Joel stands there on the front porch dressed in a pale blue button down and fresh jeans. He’s smiling widely at you and in his hands he holds a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Some yellow, some pink, but the ones that really call to you are the white sleepy looking ones.

“I’m here to pick you up for our date,” he rumbles, his eyes glittering. His eyes sail over your face and the sundress you’ve chosen. “Fuck you’re a knockout.”

You blush, taking the flowers from him as you open the door widely. “Thank you, they’re stunning.”

“The yellow ones are kerrias and those white ones? They’re called summer snowflakes,” he says as he watches you gazing at them.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

You press a kiss to his eager mouth, his lips chasing yours when you pull off squealing.

“I’m gonna put them in water!”

You find a tall vase under the sink and arrange the bouquet inside, gazing at them with your cheeks hot. You’ve never been romanced like this. Conrad thought jewelry and expensive dinners were enough. Joel does those things but he does so much more. He remembers little things, he calls you beautiful, he cherishes you.

Joel is still standing by the front door as if this is a real date and you hurriedly rush back, pulling your purse over your shoulder. You take in his button down and jeans again, scrunching your nose in confusion.

“How-“

“Had the clothes in my car,” he tells you with a grin before offering his arm. “Ready to go, beautiful girl?”

///

He takes you to a food truck for dinner, not exactly what you were expecting, but certainly nothing to sneeze at. The streets are busy, lined with tourists all snapping photos, laughing, listening to the street musicians.

“They got the best tacos here,” he informs you as he passes you a carton holding several. “And there’s somewhere I wanted to show you.”

You follow him down the busy main streets of Austin, past the various folks that try to sell you trinkets. You come upon a group of people bustling around one specific site, a painted mural of a piece of toast saying “You’re my” and a dab of butter boating the words “Butter Half”. You grin at it.

“They did these murals all over Austin,” Joel explains as you approach it. “Some’ve been around for decades, some more recent. S’one of my favorite things about Austin. I look at ‘em all the time when I need a walk, or to clear my head. S’better than any art gallery, cheapter too.”

“Are there more?” you ask, taking a bite from your taco.

“Yep.”

As the two of you eat your dinner, Joel takes you through a walking tour of the neighborhood, pointing out the various murals that you pass. Some are funny, some political, some devastating.

Wherever you go people are posing in front of them, flashing peace signs and smiling broadly at phone cameras.  An especially popular one is the one on a green background with the red spray painted words: I love you so much. Compared to the rest of the colorful pieces its sweet in its simplicity.

“I like that one,” you muse.

“Me too,” Joel says, kissing your temple and taking your hand.  He grabs you an ice cream around the next block, watching as you grapple with not letting it drip down your palm in the summer heat.

You watch Joel’s face turn into a smile as you pass a woman with two children. One in her arms, the other tugging her towards one of the murals. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes get wistful, his mouth tight. You think of your conversation over spring break when he didn’t really answer your question.

"You really want more kids, don’t you?" You offer gently. 

"Uh, maybe, yeah," Joel shrugs, almost embarrassed at being caught out. "I mean, I had Sarah when I was nineteen goin' on twenty. Would be nice to be a dad when I'm not scrambling paycheck to paycheck with a wife who's got one foot out the door." 

You nod thoughtfully, your tongue coming to take a slow lick of your cone.

"Just so you know, it's not a deal breaker," Joel is quick to explain when you go quiet. "I mean if we... You know… You don’t need to want them." 

"But you just said you think you want another kid."

"I want you more." 

You feel your heart hiccup at that. You have to turn away so he doesn’t see how your eyes have grown glossy. Sometimes Joel says the perfect, most amazing thing and he doesn’t even realize it.

The subject is dropped for the time being. It feels like too much too soon.

"S'funny I've never been a PDA person," Joel muses as he runs his fingers along your spine as the two of you continue to walk. "But I can't keep my hands off of you."

"Same here,” you admit. “I used to hate it when Conr- when my ex would hold me around the waist when we walked. It felt so… possessive.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” Joel muses with a smirk.

“That’s different,” you say quickly, eyes wide. “I… I wouldn’t mind it if you did it.”

“You like me bein’ a little possessive of you?” Joel murmurs, smirking down at your increasingly red face. You give an airy shrug, hoping it conveys a sense of indifference.

“Maybe.”

His hand wraps around your waist, holding you against him as you keep walking. And it doesn’t feel like possession, it feels like love. Everything Joel does feels like love.

With your ice cream gone but your hand still sticky you come to another mural, this one a black painted wall with writing all over. The closer you get the more you can the details. It’s like the wall of the building has been painted like a huge chalkboard. Stenciled on is the same question over and over ‘Before I die _________”.

You can see there are so many answers in chalk all over it.

 Before I die I want to visit Australia.

Before I die I want to see Harry Styles in concert.

Before I die I want to write a book.

“You ever answered this?” you ask as you read more of the various scripts.

Before I die I want to make a change in the world.

Before I die I want to win the lottery.

“Yeah. Once.”

You turn to him when he doesn’t elaborate. He’s got a funny little look on his face, staring at the mural.

“When?”

“Little bit after Christmas,” Joel mutters, almost embarrassed. He tries to keep walking but you hold him steady by the wrist. He looks back over at you, his cheeks stained pink at the cheekbones.

“C’mon, tell me,” you urge with a gentle tap of your hip against his. “No secrets, remember?”

The day is quickly turning to night and Joel’s silhouetted in the golden hour, making him look almost angelic as he stands there. The deliberation is clear in his expression before Joel huffs a soft sigh, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile as he leans forward, his mouth at your ear.

“Before I die, I want to hold Snowflake one more time.”

Your eyes fill with tears as he pulls his face back from yours, his own eyes damp. You know how he must have been feeling last year. The same way you had been, only you’d convinced yourself it was one-sided. A fleeting infatuation.

How wrong you had been.

///

You and Joel haven’t brought up the fact that you have to leave soon. Three days in fact until your unofficial time with him is over. Three days left of kissing and hugging and whispers of fidelity and love are shared. Three days left of fucking him over every imaginable surface.

You want to distract yourself from the oncoming misery so you send him a text with items you’ll need to make him a special dinner. At six promptly the front door to the house opens and Joel comes walking in, weighted down with grocery bags.

“You’re sure you needed all this stuff?”

“Mhm,” you jump up from the couch, padding after him into the kitchen. “I wanted to make something special to celebrate our time together.”

Joel grins over at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he drops the bags on the counter. He leans forward and presses a peck to your mouth. You feel his tongue dab against yours and you know exactly what he’s up to.

“Get outta here,” you say pushing him gently and going to stand at the counter. “I gotta start cooking.”

“I just wanna watch,” Joel insists, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. You want to deny him, but his hands are coming to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it free from your skirt.

“Joel-“

"Remember when you sucked my cock right there?" Joel groans into your hairline, pressing you into the counter with his hips.

"Yeah," you whimper, feeling his hand curling around your panties and tugging them down over your ass.

"Fuckin’ filthy girl."

“Mhmmm,” you murmur, hand going behind you to slide down his front. His cock is already hard when you squeeze it through his jeans. "Wanted you to fuck me against it."

"We can make that happen," Joel grins against the crown of your head, pulling himself from his jeans. "You want that, baby?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon now," he breathes as he sheaths himself in your dripping pussy. "You be good an' loud for me. You tell me how good it feels." 

You do. 

Subsequently dinner is late, but delicious.

“Holy shit you could cook all this time?” Joel whistles between bites of cornbread and steak amongst your other homemade items. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

“Maybe I just like your cooking better.”

“Mhm.” Joel gives a roll of his eyes at that.

Despite the both of you being stuffed from dinner and dessert, you still want to fuck him later that night. It feels like urgency as you think of time ticking away, but as you roll towards him in bed Joel doesn’t quite seem himself.

He’s looking at the ceiling, brows scrunched together. It makes you nervous even as you lay curled in his arms.

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?” Joel turns his attention to. “Nothin’ baby.”

You both fall quiet, your fingers twisting in the duvet. Your mind goes home to a house that feels cold and empty. To a bed that won’t have Joel in it. You try not to feel too devastated. You don’t want to ruin what precious time you have left.

You tilt your head, seeing that Joel is staring up at the ceiling again.

You shuffle to balance your chin on his sternum, gazing up at him under sleepy lids. You want to memorize his face, the way his chest falls when he breathes or the sweet, gentle way he’s gazing at you.

"What do you think of stayin' here a bit longer?" Joel whispers, hand coming to rub the hair over your ear.

"In bed?"

"In Austin."

"Like, for the rest of the summer?"

The thought makes your pulse pick up. You are in absolutely no rush to head back home to your parent’s house.  In no rush to leave Joel's warm arms and warmer smile. 

"Longer 'n that," Joel murmurs. Your brows knit together. 

"You said you were plannin' on doing your courses online," Joel explains. "And you were lookin' for a part time job but you didn't have one yet. So why not just do it all here? I know lots of people; I could find you a job easy." 

You stare at him a moment as you digest this. Joel is asking you to move in with him. And instead of fear or unease you felt at the thought of doing so with Conrad, your face blooms into a beaming smile.

"You've really been thinking about this," you say both touched and amused by him. You crawl up the length of him, wrapping your arms around him.  

He goes quiet, looking embarrassed for a moment before his arms tighten around you, holding you to him as he kisses your neck. 

"I'd love to," you answer with a soft peck to his lips.

“Yeah?”

"Yeah,” you grin, blinking back the wet. “I never wanna leave Austin...Or you… Or this bed." 

Joel's mouth finds yours, hands pulling you more tightly to him as if his joy can be expressed better physically. 

"And if it's too much stress don't worry about the job," Joel assures you between kisses. "I'll take care of you."

"Joel, I'm not gonna sponge off of you," you insist with a frown. "I'm not gonna be a kept woman. I'm gonna get a part-time job while I finish school."

"Well until then I've got a job for you," Joel says with a crooked grin as he pulls your hand over the hardening cock in his sweatpants. "One I know you're more than qualified for." 

///

The sunrise feels different in Joel's bed. You can't quite explain it. It's like the colors are more vibrant peeking through his blinds, the warmth more gentle against your skin. 

Joel is always wrapped around you, legs twisted, your head buried in his neck, as if even sleeping he never wants to be without you. The serenity of these first moments of consciousness never fails to amaze you. 

One morning you can't help but marvel at how beautiful he is when he sleeps. Plush lips parted, eyes softly shut, dark lashes fanning over his cheek. His golden body muscled and warm from slumber.

And he’s yours.

The concept overwhelms you and you find yourself pushing your body from the bed, energy forcing you to the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee before padding into the living room. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the neighborhood yet. 

You sit on the window seat, shoulders loose and your head tilted to the side. Your hands are in your lap, loosely curled against your ankles, the percolating coffee forgotten as you take in the beauty of the morning.

You’ve never had things like this; quiet, peaceful mornings where the day stretches out before you full of sublime joy and possiblity. Always in school or at home with your parents or with Conrad. But with Joel you just exist, not beholden to anyone but yourself. 

This is what happiness is.

You hear footsteps pad slowly towards you and you glance up over your shoulder to see a mug of coffee extended in your direction, made just the way you like it. You take it along with the full lipped kiss he gives you. Joel’s eyes are sleepy small and his body is still warm from slumber.

"Watch the sunrise with me," you whisper. 

Joel nods before taking a seat next to you with your situating yourself in his lap, leaning back into his chest as the pink of the sky bleeds into blue. You sip your coffee slowly, reveling in the security of Joel's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, at the way his muscled arms wrap around you like a cloak. 

You're both silent as the gold of the morning breaks through, casting everything in that hazy romantic light. You don't even notice the tears until they plop onto your bare leg. Joel must notice too because he cranes his head to peer into your face. 

"What's the matter, baby?"

His voice is early morning rumble. You sniffle before gazing up at him with a watery smile. 

"I'm just so happy." 

///

In early July Austin goes through a heat wave that leaves everywhere absolutely sweltering. It has you and Joel resting on the living room floor, the air conditioner and fans whirring around you. Joel wears nothing but shorts and you nothing but a skimpy pair of cut offs and tank top. But neither of you is feeling amorous.

The heat carries into the rest of the work week leaving Joel sweaty and exhausted when he comes home. The air conditioner is working overtime but the sticky heat lingers. It makes doing much seem impossible. You’ve been stuck inside the last few days, eating cold meals and trying to do as little as possible.

Joel doesn’t always have bad days at work, but when he does you want nothing more than to take the weight from his shoulders. You can tell it’s an especially bad one today because he kicks off his shoes and drops the toolbox at the front door.

“Bad day?”

“Tommy thought it would be great to sign off on tile that we can’t fuckin’ afford on this latest remodel,” Joel all but snaps, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”

“Lower the price of fuckin’ tile?”

You don’t say anything to that. Suddenly you feel very small, as if this is somehow your fault. As if you do in fact control the price of tile. You glance around the house and see plates on tables, cups forgotten. You should’ve cleaned today instead of looking at jobs.

"Let’s go for ice cream after dinner," you offer, trying to rouse his spirits. “My treat.”

"S’too hot. It'll melt before we even get a lick in."

"Home Depot?" You suggest, knowing it’s one of Joel’s favorite spots to walk around.

"It'll be crowded and we might see some people I know."

It's a bit of a sore point between you two. Joel hasn't introduced you to anyone and you've made no effort to make him. You enjoy this little cocoon you've created and don't want anything to spoil it. The thing is you have an idea that Joel would like to start introducing you, but Sarah has to know first.

Neither of you is looking forward to that.

“Could make those boozy slush things we saw?”

“Nah,” Joel replies, sweat beading his forehead.

You’re feeling irritable from the heat and unhappy that Joel’s bad day has somehow translated into you feeling shitty.  

“Well you’ve shot down all my ideas why don’t you come up with one?”

“I just worked ten hours in the blistering sun. I’m sorry if I’m not in the mood to plan a fuckin’ date,” Joel snaps, sweat beading his forehead.  “Maybe if you gave me five fuckin’ minutes t-”

Whatever else Joel had been about to say is lost because you’re already striding from the room. Your legs feel like jelly and you are almost blind with tears. You rush to the guest room, slamming the door behind you. 

You throw yourself onto the bed; eyes squeezed shut as you try to even out your breathing. Your heart is pounding and you want to sob. But another part of you wants to tell Joel off, to tell him to go fuck himself.

You hear the door to the bathroom opening, then the shower running. You roll onto your back, eyes glaring up at the ceiling. Ten minutes pass before there’s a knock at the door. You pull yourself to a sitting position, holding your knees.

“Baby?”

You don’t answer. You don’t want to listen to him, to look at him. You’re furious at him for this and you’re terrified because this feels like your first real fight together.

When you don’t say anything he gently pushes the door open, dark eyes peeking around the door to see your tear-stained face glaring back at him. His brows saddle and he comes to the end of the bed, just looking down at you.

“So I guess that was our first real couple fight,” he offers guiltily.

“Yep.” You sniffle. "I don't like it."

"Me neither. I'm so sorry I snapped," he tells you earnestly, dropping to his knees beside the bed, but not touching you. "I know you were just trying to help. The stuff at work an’ the heat just got to me."

You shrug. “I didn’t give you space.”

“Space I’ve never asked for before? Nah, I was just bein’ an asshole," he says gently and you see the harshness leaving his handsome features. “Came home like a bear with a toothache. All you were tryin’ to do was make me happy.”

“Still.”

"I appreciated it,” Joel tells you gently. "Just maybe if I'm upset gimme time to cool off. I can have a bad temper at times an’ sometimes I just need to be in my head about it for a bit."

His hand grips your knee gently, squeezing to let you know all is well on his end. You allow it, feeling your animosity leaving you at the exchange.  

"Okay," you nod. "I can do that." 

"So I'm forgiven?"

"Always.”

You lift his hand from your knee and Joel smiles at you, accepting your gentle kiss to his palm without hesitation. He kisses you tenderly before pushing the sweaty hair from your face, his nose brushing yours.  

"I have an idea of how to cool off."

An hour later you're at the movies with its sweet, beautiful air conditioner and giant tubs of popcorn and sodas in your laps. You and Joel pick the next movie playing which turns out to be some superhero fair he enjoys. You smile when he laughs, watching out the corner of your eyes as he does, your heart light because everything with Joel feels possible. Fights seem manageable.

Life is beautiful. 

///

It’s the start of August when you start a part time job at a bookstore nearby. You and Joel discovered it during one of your lazy Sunday morning adventures where you try new coffee places.

 It’s a quick bus ride from your place, but Joel insists on driving you when he can. But today you’ve been let go early due to over-staffing. You don’t mind at all, taking advantage of the beautiful day.

You walk down the sun-dappled streets feeling buoyed. You walk past the strip mall, glancing at the stores that line it. You normally don’t pay attention, but today your gaze is drawn to the sultry photo of the model in the store window.

Where Sensuality meets Style.

You don’t know what you’re expecting to do when you go inside the shop. What you’re not expecting is to come out a half hour later with some of the most scandalous lingerie you’ve ever owned.  It’s black and strappy and shows more than it covers.

The second you get home you jump in the shower before primping. You take the lingerie out of the bag delicately, eyes wide with delight.

The lace black bra is completely see-through and the deep blush of your nipples are easily visible. There are decorative straps that hug the curves of your breasts. The panties match the fabric of the bra, low cut and barely covering your ass. Around your middle is a strappy black garter belt that matches the straps of the bra. You pull on the sheer black thigh-highs, attaching them before spinning, turning to see you from every angle in the bedroom mirror.

You look hot.

Your strappy high heels have been in the bottom of your bag, waiting for such an occasion. You tie them up, smiling to yourself. Joel is going to be very pleased. You pull on the black silk robe that came with your purchase, a thin little kimono-style that barely reaches your knees.

You’re just applying a deep shade of red to your lips when you hear Joel’s truck pull into the driveway. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly spritz yourself with the perfume Joel bought ages ago.

Showtime.

You hear the key starting in the lock and with a dramatic flourish you throw open the door as you undo your robe, letting your lingerie doing most of the talking for you. You strike a pose, hip jutting and tits out.

"Hope you're ready to get your cock sucked Mister Mill-" 

Your eyes blow wide when you see the man on the other side of the door isn't Joel at all. It's a younger man with similar eyes and curls, his hand raised and holding a key to the house that he was in the process of unlocking. 

The man averts his eyes to the ground politely before breaking into an embarrassed grin. You pull the robe around you tightly, cinching it and squeaking in humiliation.

"Now I see why my brother keeps rushin' home after work," the man says with an unsteady laugh. 

Brother. 

This is Tommy, Joel's brother that you've heard so much about. 

Fuck 

Sarah's uncle. 

Double fuck.

"I…uh..." You falter, terror running through you. 

Tommy looks immediately apologetic, his dark brows furrowed. 

"Hey now, there's no need to be embarrassed," Tommy assures you. "Joel's his own man. I ain't gonna tell him he's too old and ugly for a pretty young thing like yourself."

You wonder if you should make up a lie like you're the house cleaner. But no, you can't after you answered the door dressed like you are. 

Triple Fuck. 

"It's not just that," you say and suddenly you feel the blush heating your cheeks. "It's uh... "

"What the fuck is goin’ on?"

The two of you glance over to see Joel pulling his truck into the driveway beside Tommy’s. He nearly jumps out while it's still parking. His legs scissor quickly over the grass, nearing to you. 

You hear Tommy swear under his breath as his older brother advances. Joel sees you in the doorframe, your eyes wide. He glances down your body when he sees you’re wearing a robe before glaring at Tommy. 

"What the fuck are you doin' at my house?"

"Came to get those tools we talked about." Tommy tries to smother his smirk. "Didn't know you had company."

"You could've called." 

"Never had to before." 

“Well you do now.”

The two brothers stare at each other speaking through micro expressions. You worry that a fist fight is about to break out if you don't de-escalate the situation. 

“I’m gonna go change," you say with an awkward laugh.

"I'll grab the tools," Tommy mutters, wincing at the angered look from Joel. "Think they're in the back shed, yeah?"

"Or the garage. Can't remember."

The two continue talking lowly but you’re already in the bedroom with the door closed. Your cheeks are flushed and your heart is beating like mad as you go to the dresser to pull out some jeans and shirt, your hands trembling with anxiety.

What if Tommy tells Sarah?

She'll be devastated. She needs to hear it from you and Joel, not her uncle. 

You hear the bedroom door open behind you and you see Joel slip into the room, his dark eyes on you. 

"I'm so sorry," you say as he approaches you. "I thought it was you."

"Course you did," Joel murmurs, coming to stand next to you. "How could you have known my idiot brother would be breakin' in?"

"I'd hardly call it breaking in," you say with an eye roll. "He had a key."

"Not anymore." Joel frowns, his eyes noting the robe again. "Did you just wake up?"

"No," you say, suddenly shy. "I was... I was wanting to surprise you.”

Joel's gloomy mood is immediately broken. His mouth curves into a broad smile. 

"My girl," he coos, fingers pinching your chin softly. "So thoughtful." 

You want to say more but Joel's fingers are sliding down your neck, ghosting over your breasts and then at the sash untying quickly, eyes wide with anticipation. He practically tears it from you as you hold in a giggle. 

When Joel sees the lingerie underneath you feel his gaze turn ravenous. 

"This is what you were waitin’ to show me?" Joel murmurs, hands trailing down the front of your lingerie. 

"Yeah."

"Turn for me," Joel whispers. You spin gently in his arms, feeling flustered. He grips a handful of your ass, groaning at the sight as it falls. "Fuck baby. I don't deserve this." 

"You deserve more," you tell him, looking at him over your shoulder. 

You spin slowly in his grip, feeling his fingers drag along the sheer fabric. Joel casts an appreciative gaze at your breasts barely contained. He's groans feel the back of his throat, his hands cupping you through the fabric. He sees your nipples and latches his full mouth over one, sucking through the fabric. 

"Joel!" 

He does the same with the other, soaking the sheer fabric and leaving you panting. He twists you gently, his hand sliding over your covered mound. 

"Gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?"

"Now?" 

"Mhmm," Joel murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait when you look that good." 

"I guess I could show you what I had prepared," you tease. 

He watches you slide onto your knees in front of him, hands deftly coming to his belt and zipper. 

Joel watches this with his mouth parted and his gaze electric as he watches you pull his cock from his jeans. He's rock hard and when you swipe your tongue over the head he hisses. 

You kiss the head gently, feeling him twitch with every graze of your full mouth over him. Your tongue comes out to give long, wet licks to the shaft and you hear him groan above you. You place him against your lower lip, watching the red bloom on his cheeks. 

You look the very picture of debauchery on your knees with his cock resting against your lips. 

"Can I please suck your cock, Joel?"

A full-bodied shudder goes through him at your husky plea. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he gives you a soft shake of his head. You're surprised at this and when he tilts, bringing you to a stand in his arms you furrow your brow. 

"Need to feel your cunt, baby," he says grazing his lips against yours. 'S'that okay?" 

You pause, indecision flirting across your features. You're not exactly quiet when Joe is inside you.  He turns you, holding you from behind and urging you towards the bed. But you pause, your pulse thrumming.

"Tommy might hear."

"He never should have come here," Joel tells you as he nuzzles the back of your neck. "His own fault if he hears somethin'."

"Joel!"

"Mister Miller," Joel croons against the shell of your ear and suddenly you understand. The dynamic that started all of this, fucking when you could be caught. He's throbbing against your back and you smile, grinding back against him. 

"You're so bad, Mister Miller," you coo, feeling as delicious goose bumps prickle all over, whimpering when Joel's palm cups your pussy through the fabric.

"Must be what you like, cuz you're soaked," he reminds you, nipping the flesh of your lobe. "Get on the bed for me, bad girl."

His hand moves from your pussy to slap your ass playfully. You barely hesitate before you shoot him a smirk and go to unbuckle your heels but Joel stops you with a firm shake of his head.

“Leave ‘em on.”

You grin up at him before turning onto your stomach, sure to arch appealingly as you crawl on all fours to the center of the mattress. Joel watches this from under heavy eyelids, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. 

You throw yourself onto your back, giggling softly when Joel comes to bracket your thighs with his own. He looks down at you with a heat in his eyes that you can feel burning within you. He leans over your body, warm and heavy and his head drops, mouth coming to lick your hardened nipple through the gauzy black fabric. The other is pinched with his free hand, worrying them both into straining points. 

He does the same with the other, attentive as you sigh in exhilaration. Your thighs band around his waist, holding him nestled against you. His hands are tugging the front of your lingerie down, exposing you to him. 

"Gorgeous," he breathes, huffing along your sternum, kissing down your stomach. It twitches under the contact. 

You give a small gasp of surprise when Joel tugs you by the ankles until your ass is at the edge of the bed. His hands slide up your black thigh highs, inhaling as he looks you over. He brings your legs to either side, hooking your heels at his shoulder before kissing each ankle bone sweetly.

He begins subtly licking his lips in anticipation as he views you, eyes taking their time to see you pliant and waiting for him. His thumbs hook in the waist of your thong, tugging it off officiously over your ass as you squirm excitedly below him. He brings them off over your ankles and shoes, the heels at his ears.

"Wrists together," he murmurs, the black edging out the remaining brown of his eyes.  

You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flush going through your body. You hold out your wrists to him, your own eyes bright. 

Joel smirks down at you before binding your wrists securely with your panties. The fabric is taut around your wrists as you raise your arms above your head, letting them fall back on the mattress.  

"We shouldn't be doing this," you tell him, playing into it as you gaze at him through hooded eyes. "Shouldn't fuck me when he could hear, Mister Miller."

"Maybe I want him to hear," Joel replies smoothly, surprising you. "Maybe I need him to know why he doesn't come bargin' into my house." 

You giggle up at Joel, watching him bring his cock from his pants. He's remarkably hard, the head weeping as he guides it to your entrance. You’re practically folding in half, your legs against his chest, his cock teasing your clit.

"Spread those legs for me," Joel murmurs with adoration in his eyes. "Lemme see how wet she is." 

"Yes, Mister Miller."

Your thighs part and he gives a heavy sigh at the sight, his hands holding your ankles against his shoulders. You lay there bound and exposed to him and you've never felt safer. You exist in the harbor of his love, protected.

Joel's one hand goes to your inner thigh, sliding until it reaches the seam of your cunt. You give a soft whimper as his fingers drive forward, grazing your clit.

"Fuckin' perfect."

Those same fingers begin to curl, coaxing more delicious whimpers from you. Joel watches this all with eager interest, his cock weeping at the sight of you restrained and spread wantonly for him. When he adds a third finger you feel your thighs begin to quake. 

"Don't make me wait anymore," you beg needfully through moans. "I need your cock. Please." 

Joel slowly removes his fingers, slipping them from you to wrap around the base of his cock, drenching it in your arousal before he leads it between your trembling thighs. 

"Anythin' you want, baby," Joel grins down at you. "Anythin' you want."

Joel slides into you with ease. It's not shocking; you're already dripping for him. He lets out a groan before his hands go to your thighs, parting them further, allowing him to thrust deeply, his ass clenching as he bottoms out in you. The two of you give a soft gasp at the sensation. 

“Never felt this good,” he tells you, eyes heavy. “Not with anyone.”

His palms slide down your thighs, grazing over your calves until they come to stop at your ankles. Joel takes one in each hand, pressing a kiss to the delicate anklebones before he's parting your legs obscenely until you’re almost doing the splits below him, your pussy glossy and pink and full of his cock. He holds you open like this, eyes ravenous as he continues to sink into you.

“Attagirl,” he croons as his head tilts back. The sensation is divine and you let him guide your movements, your hands on the bed and your legs held spread by Joel. From this angle you can see him enter you slowly, shaft glistening as he strokes in… and pulls out, grazing your clit.  

"So full," you whimper, eyes rolling and back arching off the bed. He feels so good, so perfectly thick between your legs when he does it again. "So good."

He grips your ankles tightly, dark eyes peering down as he stands next to the bed. Your tits bounce with every drive of his hips into you. 

"Take it all, baby" Joel grunts down at you. "Make me proud." 

He’s still standing, still slightly tilted over you beside the bed. It’s impossible to touch him, only to lay there, spread-eagle with Joel’s cock driving into you over and over, deeper and deeper.  Sweat begins to shine along his shoulders as he fucks into you, little groans escaping him as he watches your body ripple under him.

"J-Joel!" You groan out, hands groping the sheets.

"Not my name," Joel grunts, his hips slamming into your ass. 

"M-Mister m-M-ah-Miller!"

He's going faster, his soaked cock pistoning in and out of your cunt as your body rocks against him. Your hands are in the blanket, gripping there tightly as Joel holds you wider as his pace quickens. Your hips burn, your thighs strain but you crave more. You glance down again, watching as he saws in and out of you, his cock dripping with you arousal.

"Takin' it so well," Joel grunts out loudly when he sees you watching. "Pussy is just fucking milkin' my cock today, pretty girl."

At the sound of your groan in response he fucks into you furiously, balls slapping your ass and making sharp smacking noises in the quiet bedroom. It’s this sound which brings you back to yourself, recalling that Tommy is likely in the house at this very moment, tools in hand.

"You gotta be q-quiet!" You whimper between his deep thrusts. Joel may be fine with his brother hearing the two of you fuck but you certainly aren't. 

"Nuh uh," Joel grins almost ferally. "Not in my house... Wanna hear my bad girl scream my name."

It’s so fucking wrong.

"Say my name," Joel urges. "Wanna hear it when you come."

You're brain goes fuzzy, knowing what Joel requested. But a pleasure is building between your legs and drifting into your veins. It makes your mind work sluggish, unable to form the right words.

“I’m gonna come-“

“For who baby? Say it?” Joel demands, and now he fucks you hard, his balls tightening when you bounce on his cock.

"Daddy!"

Both sets of eyes blow wide at this. Neither of you were expecting that to be the honorific you groaned loud enough for Tommy to hear. But the sound of it is potent and Joel grips your hips tightly in his hands and fucks you deep.

"Fuck yeah you are," Joel grunts out obscenely. "Give it to Daddy."

You try to cover your mouth but Joel is thrusting so quickly, so deep your hands fly to gain purchase on the mattress. 

"You're so deep," you moan, your breasts rolling as he pumps into you. "It's so good!"

You know that if Tommy is still in the house he's heard everything. But you don't care, all you can do is look where Joel has you spread lasciviously, his soaked cock pumping in and out of you. 

"Come on my cock, come on Daddy's cock," Joel chants in a hush, sweat shining on his brow. "Need it baby, Daddy needs it now." 

Joel's collar and neck are pink, his cheekbones red. His teeth are clenched and bared as he watches himself fuck into you. His biceps are curled, holding your thighs widely open for him. 

He's magnificent. 

His eyes roll back a moment, his hips stuttering a moment. He's getting close. 

"Come for me," Joel groans out, his eyes stuck on yours. "Be a good girl and come for Daddy."

And suddenly you can't stop yourself. Your hands are clutching the blankets and your body is arching off the bed violently as your orgasm takes you over. 

"Fuck, Daddy! I'm coming!" 

Joel gives a broad grin before grunting your name as he spills inside you with your trembling legs still spread wide, ankles held by Joel's large palms. 

Finally he comes down, his panting heavy as he collapses into the bed next to you. He brings you over to him, wrapping you in his arms and grinning in your hair. 

"That'll teach Tommy to come over unannounced."

///

The two of you are on the sofa; your head is resting on a pillow in his lap. He's watching the news on TV while you scroll through your text messages. The two of you were out in the backyard today, Joel mowing the grass while you did some sunbathing. The two of you are sunburned and sleepy from it.

Sarah and Charlie are in a club. The lights are low and colorful. The image is slightly fuzzy. Sarah is being held in Charlie's arms and she holds up a glass of something alcoholic judging by the way she's peering into the camera, mouth in a sloppy smile.

Looks like you're having fun!

Chapter c ch jjj JG da

Hah yeah, Sarah's drunk. Luckily Charlie looks in control of his faculties in the photo. 

"Is that Sarah?" Joel asks his eyes catching the edge of your phone. 

"Yeah."

"Lemme see," Joel says reaching for the phone. "She didn't send me a photo today, just a message about some museum."

He's fake pouting, irked that you've received something from Sarah while all he's had this week are texts. His brows rise when you pull your phone out of his reach, holding it against your chest.

"She's... This isn't a photo she'd want her dad seeing."

Joel's face immediately contorts into disgust and you burst into laughter. 

"Not like that," you say between wheezes. "She's at a club with Charlie and they're both drunk. I don't know if she'd want her dad seeing her wasted."

"Yeah probably not," Joel relents after some thought. 

It's the first time you've been the bridge between them. A spy working on both sides. It makes you feel funny, like its wrong that you love both of them. While your love for each is not the same in nature, they have both carved parts for themselves within your heart. 

“Baby?” Joel murmurs from above you.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to know that I’m serious about you n’ me.”

You glance up to his face before pulling yourself into a sitting position next to him. Your heart melts as he gazes at you.

“Me too.”

“So I wanna tell Sarah about us,” Joel says quietly. “I don’t like lying to her.”

He must see the terror in your face because his hand falls over yours.

“Doesn’t need to be while she’s off havin’ an adventure. Don’t wanna spoil that for her. But she gets home soon and when she does, I wanna tell her. If nothing else about this relationship, we're at least gonna do this part right." 

"It's too soon," you tell him with a flutter in your chest. 

"I wanna hold you in my arms out in the open," Joel murmurs against your temple. "I'm tired of keepin' you a secret, like we’re doin’ something wrong. I love you and that ain’t wrong.”

You feel yourself turn to a puddle at his feet when he tells you that. 

"I love you too." 

"Sarah talked about coming back here before her job starts up," Joel explains. "Just for the weekend. I think I need to tell her then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll invite her over for dinner and we'll talk."

"What if she's upset?"

"She probably will be," Joel says, sighing heavily. The thought of his daughter being upset with him churns his guts. They've been through so much together, but that's why keeping you a secret is so hard. 

"But I can't keep lying to her."

"I know." 

“So it’s decided,” Joel tells you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “When Sarah comes home next week we’re gonna tell her.”

“Yeah,” you nod resolutely. “We’ll tell her then.”

///

There are few people in this world that Sarah Miller can depend on. 

After her mother left when she was a toddler Sarah’s always had a feel of being forgotten. Of being left behind.

Her dad is someone she can depend on.  Always there if she needs to talk, helping her set up furniture, there when her heart has been broken, there when she needed money or someone to help her buy a car.

He's a good dad. A good man.

And so when the taxi pulls into the driveway on Rancher Street Sarah breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar windows and freshly varnished front porch. A classic Joel move that he does every summer.

She’s several days early since she caught the earlier flight to surprise him. She can’t wait to see him after all these months away. She’s missed him and his silly jokes, his dumb DVD’s and the way he always listens as if she’s the most interesting person in the world.

One the few phone calls she’s made home he’s seemed different as of late. More spring in his step, more smiles, quicker to laugh. She figures it must be the divorce from Tess. The woman had never really understood Joel, even if she was perfectly kind.

Sarah throws her bag over her shoulder, heading into the house.

It’s not just the excitement of being home that has her almost three days early. It’s also because she just got the news that she was hired here at a clinic in Austin. One that pays well and offers benefits and makes her really really happy just at the thought. 

Unfortunately during their time this week Charlie was offered a temporary position over in Santa Fe. An equally amazing opportunity and one that he couldn’t possibly refuse considering his other job fell through. Both of them had been glassy eyed as they realized their time apart would stretch well over six months. 

"It'll go fast," Charlie insisted over dinner one night that Sarah was feeling especially down. "Six months is nothing. And then I'll be back in Austin and ... I think we should move in together." 

Sarah thinks of her dad living in the house by himself and it breaks her heart.

No Tess and eventually, no her. 

///

Your favorite thing about Sunday is that you and Joel take full advantage of it being his day off. You sleep in, tangled in each other's arms. You usually wake up to Joel's mouth on your neck, kissing gently before whispering your name and a raspy "you up, baby?"

He never does anything more until you confirm you're awake, and then he waits for you to take the lead. Sometimes it's a kiss to his cheek and the announcement that you want to go out for croissants at that new coffee shop you both discovered.

Sometimes you press your hips to his and urge him inside you, both of you rocking to a slow and sleepy orgasm. He holds you against his slumber-warmed body as he murmurs how good you are for him, how perfect you feel. 

On Sunday afternoons you lay with your legs over his on the couch. He usually has a book in one hand, the other gently resting on your calf, tracing absently. You’re usually reading your Kindle, eyes wide when you come upon something surprising. Your breathing elevates and Joel always hears it. 

"What's goin' on now?"

"She just found out she has to stab three faeries in the heart with wood daggers."

"Shit, really? Here I thought the whole puzzle-lever thing was bad."

There's something about his focus on you, the intense desire to learn everything you have to share. This support, this focus, it makes you fall even harder for him. It makes your eyes go glassy and unfocused. 

He knows the look. It makes him close his book with a muted slap, dropping it beside the couch before he's tugging your pants down and burying his face between your thighs until you cry out, fingers twisted in his curls. 

In the evening you cook together, something your parents never did. It’s usually something easy like chicken or pasta as the radio hums behind you. On nice nights Joel BBQs with you bringing him a beer as he smiles at you, commenting that he's spoiled rotten. 

Then it's TV or a movie and then to bed where more often than not, Joel urges you onto his lap where he lathers praise all over your body as your hips roll over his. 

Or if you're both tired he simply drags you into his arms and whispers how he can't believe he got this lucky, how happy he is, how beautiful you are. He touches you with affection and care and you repeat much the same, feeling as if your heart could burst. 

It's perfect and quiet and peaceful and you've never felt like this. So safe in his arms, so protected. 

This Sunday however is different. You wake up to an empty bed. You frown, sad not to feel the warmth of his body against yours. 

Maybe he's making breakfast, you think. He does this sometimes, waking you with strawberry waffles. But there's no noise from downstairs, no lingering aroma of sugar and syrup.  Its possible he’s working on emails for the business.

So you stretch languidly before pulling yourself from the warm nest of the bed. You brush your teeth, before padding downstairs. You hear shuffling in the kitchen and smile as you enter. 

"Baby, let's go to that bakery, again" you croon sleepily sauntering into the kitchen wearing nothing but Joel's oversized Miller Construction t-shirt and your panties. "I wanna see if they have those cro-“

The second you see a figure standing by the sink the words die on your tongue.

“Sarah?”

At first Sarah doesn't connect the dots. She's confused to see you here at her house, her mind trying to connect the dots of why her college roommate is here at her house wearing her dad's clothes. For an insane moment she’s actually excited you’re here, thinking that you must have come here for her and she steps towards you, her smile bright.

Then she sees the look of absolute terror crossing your features and Sarah looks to the counter to see two emptied wine glasses probably from last night. She sees the small touches around the home like your jacket slung over the dining chair, a lipstick tube by the microwave.

She takes in how your hair is mussed, like you just woke up here. And then suddenly, belatedly, Sarah puts two and two together. She steps back from you as if you're a stranger who's broken into her home. 

"What the fuck?"

"Sarah I can explain-"

Like some terrible farce, the front door is unlocked and pushed open at that very moment and Joel's voice rings out. 

"I got coffees but they didn't have any of those croissants you liked from last time," Joel calls out to you, his voice turning teasing. "Maybe tomorrow if you're a good girl-"

Joel enters the kitchen with a smile on his face that immediately drains when he sees Sarah standing beside you looking horrified. 

"Sarah?"

He drops the coffees he was holding, letting the steaming contents fall to the ground where no one attempts to pick them up. The drinks just seep it into the tile floor as the three of you cast eyes to one another. 

Everything in you wants to run to Joel, to have him hold you during this awful moment. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be prepared and respectful, not in the middle of some domestic fantasy with the scent of sex still clinging to the both of you. 

And when you see the pure anguish in Joel's eyes when he looks at his daughter you want to vomit. In this moment you would take it all back. The fucking, the kissing, the loving, you'd erase it all if it means Joel never has to experience this pain. 

He takes a tentative step forward to Sarah, blinking furiously for a moment as he steadies his breathing.

"Sarah-"

"What the fuck is going on, Dad?" 

Joel's lower lip trembles as he thinks of how to explain this. But how can he without hurting her? 

"Sarah I can explain," you stay, shrinking when she turns her suddenly furious eyes on you. 

"Well, someone'd better."

You've known Sarah for years. She's been pressed, angry, frustrated. But you've never seen her like this. With the kind of fury that makes you shrink back from her. The kind of anger that radiates off of her and causes you to lose your courage momentarily. 

"Y-your dad... Joel and I are seeing each other," you say wincing at how pathetic that sounds. "We're together."

Seeing each other? You're in love with him. He asked you to live with him. You want to build a life together. You want to marry him one day, even though you’ve never voiced it.

"You're seeing my dad," she repeats slowly giving a mirthless laugh. "You don't even know my dad."

"Honey," Joel says and you both glance up at him. You cringe as Sarah realizes this the same time you do. 

"This is disgusting," she utters with a shudder. She looks at Joel with a look of absolute disbelief. "She's my age, Dad."

"I didn't-" Joel falters and he casts a desperate look in your direction before he's looking back at his daughter. "It's not an age thing."

"Right."

"S'not," Joel insists honestly. 

She stops and you feel your stomach sink when recognition flashes across her anguished face. She looks over at you, grimacing.

"Joe," she says barely above a whisper. "That night I heard you at the bar you weren't saying Joe. You were saying Joel."

"Sarah-"

"How long has this been going on?" Sarah’s voice is up two octaves. "How long?"

"Christmas." 

"Christmas?" Sarah looks ill. "You've been fucking my roommate in secret for almost nine months?" 

"Sarah," Joel warns. "I know you're angry but-"

"I'm not angry!" Sarah insists. "I'm disgusted. You're like twenty years older than her, dad."

"Eighteen," you offer quietly. The dark looks they both give you assure you that your addition was unnecessary. And suddenly Sarah’s attention is on you, her fury focused on the woman wearing her dad’s clothes.

"I brought you here to my house after Conrad dumped you because you said you were so heartbroken and you fuck my dad?" Sarah seethes. "You make it so he gets divorced?"

"Tess and I were headin' that way for a while babygirl," Joel interjects. "Long before Christmas."

"Who made the first move?"

Joel and you exchange a look and it's your cheeks that heat and your eyes that drop to the floor. 

"Me," Joel lies. You don't want to argue with him right now, but you both know it sure as hell wasn't Joel who started things. 

It was you who forced yourself into his room. You who begged him to let you suck his cock. You who rode him, demanding his come. Joel had come around eventually, but there was no question on who initiated things. 

"It was me," you insist. "I pursued him."

Sarah is staring at you with glassy eyes, chin wobbling and the sight of it devastates you. "I thought we were friends."

Now you feel your eyes growing damp. "We are-"

"Friends don't sleep with their friends dads!" Sarah insists and before you can answer she's whirled around to face Joel. "And what the fuck dad? Since when are you one of those midlife crisis guys?"

"S'not a midlife crisis," Joel explains. 

"No?"

"No," Joel says sharply. "This ain't some casual fling. I'm in love with her."

Even though he's told it to you so many times, hearing him say it out loud to someone else has your eyes spilling over with tears. Fuck you wish you were holding him right now. 

"In love," Sarah scoffs with a tremor in her voice. "Bullshit."

She spins quickly and before either of you can reply she's jogged out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The tears are in Joel's eyes along with a heavy dose of panic shot your way.  

"I have to-"

"Don't have to explain," you urge him. "Go."

Joel nods and before he leaves he turns briefly, eyes cast to you. He marches to you and kisses gently and all too briefly. 

"I love you."

And then he's gone, his body striding from the room after Sarah. Only once the door is closed behind him do you allow the sobs to escape.

///

Joel returns hours later to find you sitting on the couch, dressed and looking into space. You’ve packed all your things in your suitcase and duffle. Your clothes are clean and you try your best not to cry when you see him.

He looks exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. You can tell he’s been crying, or trying not to, all day. He looks at you sitting there waiting and you see his brows saddle. You don’t go to him, don’t approach him. You wait for him to sit next to you on the couch.

“Come here.”

Only then do you launch into his waiting arms, letting him bring you into his lap. You straddle him, but it’s not sexual. You do it so that you can hug him tightly, your chests pressed together, hearts beating in tandem.

"She was coming home cuz she got a job out here," Joel explains, your head tucked under his chin. "She uh, she's wanting to move back home for a few months. Til Charlie’s back from Santa Fe.”  

“Makes sense.”

You feel Joel swallow and you pull back, still seated on his lap facing him. He looks so lost when you gaze at him, hand coming to cup his cheek.

“What is it, baby?”

"She says she's not gonna come in the house until you're gone," he says with a tremor in his voice. You see the sheen begin in his eyes, the way he blinks it back rapidly.  

"I don't know what to do," Joel murmurs. 

"You know exactly what you have to do," you answer for him, sounding stronger than you actually feel. "She's your daughter Joel. She had your heart long before I did." 

You both know that this is it. This is the end of your story. For Joel, Sarah's welfare will always be his top priority and if you're honest, you wouldn't respect any other choice. 

"It's okay, I already packed my bags," you answer. Joel looks struck dumb, his brows knitted together.

"You did?"

"After I saw Sarah's reaction I just knew," you say sniffling, your fingers going to a stray thread in the collar of his t-shirt. You twist it around your finger, watching the blood pool in your fingertip. "There’s no way for this to go on without hurting her.”

"I think maybe ... Maybe if we give it a few weeks," Joel tries to reason, but you stop him with your fingers gently coming to press against his full lips.  

"Joel."

You both know it won't be a few weeks. The damage done to Sarah is deep. You both know that just from seeing her reaction. You know that your continued presence here will only increase the divide between them and you know you can't do that to the man you love. 

If she’d come home when she was originally planned there was a maybe it could work. If they’d presented it confidently, holding hands, a united front. If they’d explained it calmly instead of being found out and acting guiltily maybe there was a chance she would have come around. But now? After what she stumbled upon? You can’t say that you would be any different.

Your hand moves from his mouth to cup his cheek once more. The rasp of his beard tickles your palm as you hold him, gazes stuck on one another.

"It can't be over," Joel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't give you up. I just found you."

Your heart breaks at those words coming from the man who wants nothing more than to take care of you, to love you. 

"You have to," you say, sniffling. "I never want you to choose between me and Sarah. It's an unfair ask."

You also know that he will always pick Sarah. He has to, he's a father first, your boyfriend second. You see it in the resigned way he clenches his jaw. It’s why you love him – that devotion, that love.

Joel falls silent a moment, his fingers tracing the small snowflake pendant you haven’t taken off since he gave it to you.

"But she has no right to be upset," Joel insists after a moment. "You're grown, I'm grown, we're both single-"

"You're in the middle of getting divorced and I'm your daughter's best friend," you tell him flatly. "And she found out completely by surprise that we've been together for months and that we'd been having an affair when you were married to Tess."

Joel is solemn. Hearing it all out loud sounds so harsh, so vulgar. But it's the truth and you won't hide from it.  Your head is on his shoulder, cheek pressed against the soft fabric.

"She has every right to be upset. I would be if I were her."

And while it's true, it doesn't stop the hurt. It doesn't stop Joel from trying to think of an alternative.

"I could put you up in an apartment in town and-"

"And drain your bank account? Make you sneak around and lie to Sarah?" You shake your head gently. "I won't let you do that, Joel. And I won’t hide away like a dirty secret, terrified of being found out." 

Joel’s eyes are shut tightly, as if he's trying to block out this entire day. 

"We had months of happiness and love together and maybe we have to just be thankful for that." Your voice is quivering.

"S'not enough," Joel insists, his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "I want you here with me. I need you." 

Tears are falling down his cheeks at the same rate as yours. Even as your lips tremble and your view of him becomes a watercolor blur, you press on.

"Maybe this is what we have to live with after what we did, Joel. Maybe we don't deserve a happy ending."

This is what breaks Joel and you see the light fade from his dark eyes. You see the way his face sobers as you both realize there's no coming back from this. 

You don't want to prolong this heartache. You want to go and cry somewhere private. You want to regroup. 

"I'm gonna call a taxi to the airport hotel."

"I'm drivin' you."

"No Joel," you say, shaking your head. "I... It'll be too hard. I need us to say goodbye here and now." 

You know that if he drives you you'll invite him into the hotel room. You'll fuck all night, making sorrowful promises, extending the pain. You need to sever it quickly. 

Joel sniffles softly before nodding. His eyes are wounded, large and imploring. 

"Can I call you?"

"I don't think it's a good idea." Even as you say it you feel your heart crumbling. "Not for a little while anyway. If Sarah found out..."

"Right."

You see the mixture of pain and frustration in his dark eyes. Your hands go to either side of his face, holding him, thumbs grazing his stubbled cheeks. 

"Don't be upset with her," you urge. "She's done nothing wrong. And she loves you more than anything."

"I know." His voice is soft and you know that nothing in this world could make him care less for his daughter. It's one of the things you love most about him. You lower your hands from his face. 

The two of you lapse into silence and finally Joel brings out his phone and presses it a few times. You crawl out of his lap and the two of you stand beside the couch. Joel murmurs a few things into the phone before hanging up.

"Taxi'll be here in ten minutes."

Joel brings you into his arms, holding you tightly to him and rocking back and forth. For the next ten minutes you hold one another, your face buried in his the crook of his neck. 

"I'm never gonna stop lovin you," Joel tells you plainly, mouth against your temple. "Even if I never get to see you again. I need you to know that." 

You want to say so much to him but your throat has closed up entirely. You want to thank him for loving you. Want to thank him for showing you what real love looks like. 

He kisses you with the regret of years of his love unfulfilled. He kisses you with the desperation of a man who knows his time is up. He kisses you with all he has and then he releases you and now you find the words 

"I'll love you forever, Joel."

Because you will.

He follows you onto the sun baked driveway, the two of you walking past Sarah in Joel's truck. You see her swollen, tearstained face and feel guilt start anew. You never wanted to hurt your friend like this. The only real friend you've ever had in your life. The loss of her friendship is its own kind of pain that burns deep.

Joel fights the urge to touch you, to kiss you again; you can sense it in the way he stands so close to you as the driver loads your suitcase into the trunk of the taxi. 

"Goodbye."

He can't help himself. His hands go to either side of your face, holding you there as he moves his lips over yours, kissing you fiercely. You let him, your hands gripping his waist as he tastes you one last time. 

When the driver gives a loud cough Joel pulls back, his eyes wet again. There are no words left. Only the sorrow of your dual gazes as his thumb strokes your cheek. 

"Promise me you'll find someone who makes you happy," you tell him in a rushed whisper, holding him tightly. "Someone who makes you laugh and feel good and wants to have babies with you."

"I'm not-"

"Promise me Joel," you tell him firmly. 

"Only if you promise me you're gonna find someone who treats you right," Joel all but begs. "No more fucking Conrad’s. No more boys that don't appreciate how fucking perfect you are." 

"No one could ever love me like you do," you tell him through broken sobs and Joel wraps his arms around you. You go to wrap your arms around his waist until you see that Sarah is watching the two of you from the truck with a disgusted look on her face. You pull back from him, trying to summon all your composure.

Maybe it was always meant to end like this. Maybe it's exactly what you deserve for selfishly starting this all last Christmas. Part of you thinks that it’s not fair. That your love should overcome this. But then a larger part feels like it's what you deserve.

Happiness this wonderful doesn't deserve to last. 

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Shielding your eyes from the sun you cast one last look at Sarah over your shoulder, hoing she sees that this isn’t some fling. Praying that she sees the love you and Joel have for one another as she bursts out of the truck and forgives you both.

But instead she glares furiously at you, making your stomach sink as you accept that this is the only possible decision. 

You crawl into the taxi, pulling the door shut and give him the address for the airport hotel. You can't look at Joel but know that he's standing there staring into the cab. 

As the taxi pulls away from the curb you finally tilt your eyes and watch as Joel's form grows smaller and smaller in the back window until he's nothing but a mirage. His voice stays with you though, even and tender and husky.

I’m never gonna stop lovin’ you. 

You absently finger the silver pendant around your neck, musing darkly that snowflakes never last that long.

@fanficaddictmwah @southernbe

@oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff

@604to647

@survivingandenduring

@weirdoneattheparty @lilipads

@cinnamongorll @katiexpunk

@emotrash1 @booksaremyfood

@mellymbee @ashleyfilm

@magpiepills @sptbear

@getitoutofmymind

@deansimpalagirl

@sunnysinbar

@almostempty

@sofinkatomanovv

@joeldjarin

@akah565

@swankyorange

@flizzie-cakes

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #bfdjoelmiller #joel x reader #joel fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou

[rafesfavgirl]

not like you — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. sorry this took so long y'all, school's been kicking my ass :')

❝ get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to thе backseat no onе's ever had me, not like you ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: after a few dates with rafe, he finally asks you to go midsummers with him as his girlfriend.

words: 2.9k+

warnings: jealous!jj, bitchy!kie, jealous!rafe, alcohol use, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral m receiving, pretty fluffy, SMUT with a cute little plot bc soft!rafe is soooooo bf material

"so… i've actually been meaning to ask you something," rafe pulls his truck to a stop in front of your house and turns to look at you.

it was the middle of the night and the two of you had just gotten back from getting froyo, after he texted you asking whether you wanted to go with him to get some on his way home from topper's.

"what's up?" you ask, eyes scanning his face, which donned a look of apprehension.

was he nervous?

a chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down, hand fiddling with yours on top of your thigh. "well, we've been going out for a few weeks now…" he started.

"yeah?" a small smile comes across your lips—never in a million years did you think you'd be making rafe cameron, of all people, act like this.

"and you've met my friends," his eyes meet yours, blue irises twinkling. "and my sisters…"

"rafe, what is it?"

"i was wondering if you'd consider going to midsummers with me," he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "you know… as a couple."

you tilt your head to the side, and kink an eyebrow. "rafe cameron, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

he shakes his head at your teasing, and playfully rolls his eyes, thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. "depends, are you saying yes?"

"i don't know," you shrug. "i mean, you're a kook, i'm a pogue. we come from totally different worlds. not to mention i just got out of a year-long relationship and…" you trail off when the look on his face turns sour, clearly thinking you were serious.

"oh, i'm just kidding," you chuckle, nudging his arm.

"you're not funny," he tells you, but you know by the way his eyes light up again that he's relieved.

"i'd love to go to midsummers with you," you smile.

"as my girlfriend?"

"yes, baby," you nod, leaning in so your lips are just hovering above his. "as your girlfriend."

rafe closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a way that make all the butterflies flutter in your stomach, as his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

"come inside for a bit," you smile against him, lips only leaving his long enough for you to get the words out.

"your parents won't mind?"

you shake your head, "they're sleeping."

—

“y/n!” sarah immediately comes up to greet you when rafe opens your door and helps you step out, making sure your dress doesn’t snag.

“hey, sare,” you return her hug, but your eyes linger behind her head to john b’s parked twinkie in the parking lot.

…what the hell?

“hey, y/n,” when he rounds the twinkie, dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dressed, and comes over to stand beside sarah, it clicks in your head.

“no way,” you shake your head, eyes shifting between them when you break your hug with sarah.

sarah shrugs with a smile, hand intertwining with john b’s. “way.”

“but i thought you were with topper,” you say. “how did-“

“a’ight, as much as i’d love to hear about my sister’s love life, we gotta go,” rafe interrupts you, hand sliding across your exposed lower back, making your head turn towards him, as a chill runs down your spine, your weight shifting from one leg to the other.

“right,” you nod, his intoxicating presence completely making you forget about sarah and john b.

he gives you a small push towards the club and begins to lead you inside, sarah and john b trailing closely behind you. 

once again, you’re caught off guard when you follow rafe outside with your hand in his, the back garden of the island club decked out in twinkling lights and hysterias like it was pulled straight out of a fairytale.

"holy shit," you mutter, causing rafe to look at you with a smile.

"you like?"

"are you kidding?" your wide eyes meet his, as you both descend the steps of the back porch. "this is insane."

"come on," he nods his head to the side, and begins leading you toward his dad, rose, and wheezie. "you can meet my dad."

while the two of you had been messing around for about a month now, and you had even attended a brunch at the club with him two weeks ago, he'd been apprehensive to officially introduce you to ward. not that you thought it was a big deal—everyone in the obx already knew who he was.

"dad," rafe greets him with a smile; you glued to his side. "this is y/n."

"so you're the girl i've been hearing so much about," ward smiles at you and holds out a hand. "ward cameron."

you place your free hand in his for a quick handshake, relief washing over you when you realize he isn't the monster you thought he was—at least, if he was, he surely hid it well with that friendly smile.

"y/n y/l/n," you tell him. "it's nice to meet you."

"you too," he nods. "nice to finally put a face to the name. you kids enjoy yourselves."

"thank you," you reply, as rafe pulls you away towards kelce and topper by the bar.

"well, well, what do we have here?" topper smiles at the two of you and sips on a glass of what you assume to be whiskey. "is it official?"

"something like that," you smile back, leaning into rafe and tilting your head up to look at him, his eyes twinkling as they locked with yours.

"y'all want something or what?" the sound of jj's bitter voice pulls you out of your haze, when he walks up behind topper and kelce and leans his hands against the bar counter.

there was just no escaping him.

his eyes meet yours when top and kelce step aside to give him a full view of you and rafe, dressed in matching colors with your hands intertwined.

a smug smirk comes across rafe's lips, realizing just how quickly the tables had turned. though he'd never admit it, he'd always had a thing for you ever since he saw you waitressing at the wreck that one time you agreed to help kie with the lunch rush. a part of him always hated that jj got to you first, but that didn't matter now. because he was the one standing beside you tonight. not jj. 

"just a glass of whiskey for me, man," he says, before looking down at you. "anything for you, doll?"

"i'll take a glass of wine," you nod at him, pulling your eyes away from jj. rafe was the guy in your life now.

"you heard her," rafe tells jj. "and make it white wine. the most expensive kind you've got."

you playfully roll your eyes at his antics—he clearly just wanted jj to know how much he liked to spoil you—but don't argue when he hands you your glass.

"i'll be back," you whisper to him. "i'm gonna go find sarah."

"okay, baby," he nods, leaning down to place his lips on yours. "save me a dance, though."

jj rolls his eyes behind the bar and scoffs, tongue poking at his cheek as he poured another drink for kelce.

you choose to ignore him, and smile up at your new boyfriend instead. "you got it."

—

"is this a pogue reunion i see?" you couldn't help taking a detour from finding sarah to walk up to pope and john b by the grill that pope was working.

"maybe for you," pope shrugs, and john b agrees, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you before taking a sip. "we're together everyday."

"alright, touché," you nod, a hand reaching out to bump john b's chest. "i didn't know you cleaned up so well, dude."

"look who's talking," john b says, eyes trailing up and down the baby blue dress you're wearing. "you look more like a kook than anyone here."

you roll your eyes and shake your head. "shut the fuck up."

"i'm totally serious," he chuckles. "you look good, y/n. happy."

you sigh, not being able to help the smile that spreads across your lips. "i am."

"good," he returns your smile. "that's how it should be."

"and what about you?" you tease, nudging his arm with your elbow. "mr. sarah cameron… how the hell did that happen?"

he shrugs, "i don't know, it kinda just did."

a small laugh leaves your mouth. "hmm. who would've thought, huh? you and me with kooks?"

"definitely wasn't on my list of things that would happen this year," he shakes his head, chuckling.

"where is she, anyway?"

"she went to go find you, actually," he says.

"damn, i should go find her then," you reply. "but text me, yeah? i've missed y'all."

half-engaged in conversation with topper and kelce across the garden by the bar, rafe's eyes focus on you, as you throw your head back in a giggle at something john b and pope had said, his grip on his glass tightening. his tongue moves to poke at his cheek when you throw an arm around john b in a hug, and then pope, the ugly green monster inside him threatening to make an appearance, as he brings the glass up to his lips and downs the rest of his whiskey.

"face it, man," jj tuts, refilling his drink when he sets it down on the counter. "she's known us longer than you. it's not gonna last."

"just fill up my glass and shut the fuck up, a'ight?" rafe throws him a glare. "no one asked you."

—

you enter the bathroom to pee after failing to find sarah again—where the hell could she have possibly gone?—the two wine glasses you had finally catching up to you.

"you've got some nerve showing your face here," kiara's voice fills your ears when you move towards the sink to wash your hands.

when you look up at the mirror, you find her standing behind you. "you're one to talk," you turn off the sink and reach for some paper towards to dry your hands, as you turned to look at her. "weren't you against all these events because they're so ‘tone-deaf'?"

she scoffs and shakes her head. "you're pathetic, you know that? taking jj from me, dumping him for rafe…" this psycho bitch. "then turning him, john b and pope against me…" wait, what? "i mean— seriously, y/n, are you really that desperate for attention?"

you let out a sigh to keep your composure—she wasn't worth the energy it took to stoop down to her level. despite what she and jj had put you through, you were happy. she wasn't taking that away from you.

"i hate to break it to you, but if the boys aren't talking to you, it has nothing to do with me," you tell her. "maybe they just realized who you really are." you shrug, taking a step towards her. "you're a shitty person, kiara. you can try and blame me all you want, but you dug your own grave."

"you—"

"lie in it," you cut her off. "and while you're at it, leave me alone."

you don't allow her to get another word in before walking away, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her own thoughts.

damn that felt good.

—

"hey stranger," you lean down and snake the arm not holding a glass of wine around rafe's neck, your hand landing on his chest, as he sat at an empty table with a glass of whiskey, sulking.

"done talking to your other boyfriends?" he asks, raising his glass up to his lips.

you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing. "what?"

"i saw you flirting with john b and pope," he says, setting his drink down on the table, as his eyes finally met yours.

they didn't look angry though, more like… sad?

"you thought i was flirting?" you ask, moving to sit in the seat beside him. "they're my friends, babe. i haven't seen them in a while, we were just catching up."

"didn't look like that when you were giggling and hugging them," his eyes avert to his glass on the table, his finger tracing along its rim.

"oh my god," you chuckle, half-amused by his behavior. "are you jealous?"

"why would i be jealous?" he shrugs you off, still refusing to have his eyes meet yours again. "if it's them you want, that's cool."

you sigh, and place a hand on his. "come dance with me."

to your surprise, he doesn't resist when you take his hand in yours and stand up to lead him towards the dance floor, as the band began to play an instrumental rendition of taylor swift's you are in love.

your hands lock behind rafe's neck, while his hands snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, as the two of you slowly began to sway along with the music.

"you're crazy, you know that?" you ask, fingers entwining with the hair on the back of his head.

"how's that?"

"for thinking i'd flirt with someone else when i'm here with you," you say.

"they've known you longer than me," he shrugs. "it's not that crazy."

"i guess,” you shrug. “but you’re forgetting something.”

his eyebrows furrow. “what?”

“they’re not you,” your lips pull together in a smile. "i mean, sure, i've known them longer. yes, we're friends, but they don't hold a candle to you, alright? no one's ever made me feel the way you do."

and it was true. your entire relationship with jj, there was always an uneasy feeling in the depths of your stomach that made you feel like there was always someone else—and it was right, because there was kie. but with rafe? he made you feel like the only girl in the world. it was healing.

"not even jj?"

you chuckle and shake your head. "not even jj."

"and how do i make you feel, doll?" his head tilts to the side, an amused look on his face.

a smirk comes across your lips, eyes locking with his. "how 'bout i show you?"

—

"shit, baby, what's gotten into you?" rafe smirks against your lips, your body rolling against him and your fingers entwined in his hair.

the two of you were now in the backseat of his truck, tongues dancing together while his hands roamed over your body.

you shrug, jokingly. "wine."

"damn," he muttered. "should get you wine drunk more often."

without your lips ever leaving his, one of your hands trail down his body to slide over the hardness under his pants, eliciting a groan from him.

he pulls away and shakes his head at you, the look in his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. "don't tease me, pretty girl."

"i don't plan to," you smirk, hands coming between the two of you to begin unbuckling his belt.

you pull away from him and he leans back on the seat, as you position yourself on your knees, hands working at his belt to pull down his slacks and boxers. his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your fingers around it, rafe's hand landing on your ass to give it a squeeze.

you slowly lean down to take him in your mouth, your mouth swirling around his length as you cupped his balls with your hand.

"fuckkkk," rafe groans, hand trailing up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "just like that, doll."

you lick up his length and swirl your tongue around his tip, making his head tilt back as he began guiding your head to bob up and down.

you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you gag, only making rafe hotter.

you release him from your mouth, and tilt your head up to look at him as you began stroking his length up and down. "you gonna cum for me, baby?"

"uh-uh," rafe shakes his head and grabs your hand to stop you, before grabbing you by the waist to sit up so he could untie the back of your dress and pull it off you, until it's lying on the floor of his truck. "come ride me, pretty girl."

he guides your hips to move over him, and you place your hand over his shoulders, your soaked center hovering right above his length.

he doesn't give you the chance to tease him, and immediately pushed you down, his entire length sinking into you and making you throw your head back.

you begin rocking your hips against him and he groans, one hand moving up to grab your tit.

"oh rafe," you moan, your orgasm inching closer and closer as you tangle a hand into his hair and lean against him.

his lips connect to your neck and begins trailing wet kisses, his fingers pinching your nipple and heightening the pleasure you were already feeling.

"so close, baby," rafe whispers against you. "you gonna cum with me?"

"mhm," you nod, barely coherent as your high washes over you.

you tremble when rafe shoots his load and keeps you steady, his head falling against your shoulder.

"did that answer your question?" you pant.

you feel his smirk on your skin before he picks his head up to look at you. "oh yeah."

"and how do you feel about me?"

he brings a hand up and pushes you hair back, eyes scanning every inch of your face. "you're everything."

anddddd that concludes this little series... i think. i've considered writing an epilogue but it'd take place several years after this, so let me know if that's something y'all are even interested in. but until then, i'm very excited to start working on some new fics, so stay tuned :)

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @ilyrafe @callsignwidow @zyafics

#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe fluff #cute rafe #rafe being bf material #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #obx fic

[somerandomdudelmao]

Have to say I'm loving Marble Sky. It's clear you put a lot of thought into the story and I'm excited to see where it's going.

Figured I'd weigh into the Oscar commentary going on and I think honestly the shirt he was wearing in the flashback when Ward was talking about how he ended up in space might say a lot about his character as a whole.

If you don't look at the shirt closely it says "the earth is fla-" and naturally people will fill in the missing 't'. A shirt that seems to support flat earthers is particularly tone deaf given he'd just walked into a building dedicated to science and specifically space. It's the sort of thing people would instantly react to and think lesser of Oscar for. Much like the fact that he comes from a rich family. Or the fact that he seems to embrace the world with puppy like enthusiasm. It creates an image of someone who is ignorant, who doesn't pay attention, and is careless to the point of being arrogant about it.

However looking closely that's not what the shirt says. it's just the text for the rest of it is small, harder to read and purposefully arranged so its divorced from the rest of the larger letters.

And I find that fascinating.

So reading the shirt properly it says "the earth is FLA-bergasting". This message I think has a lot of layers especially combined with Oscar's established fascination with aliens, biology and stuff that we have seen with him previously. It's a message that celebrates the world and all life in it. It's a message that acknowledges that understanding that world is impossible but compelling none the less. It's a message that says the earth is confusing and hard to understand and Oscar is not pretending to know everything about it. Some of this might be just my interpretation of the message so take that with a grain of salt. Still the difference between the first and second is interesting because in the first its a person asserting they know something as complete truth while the second basically admits they don't know anything at all.

Now apply this to Oscar. We're presented with a chaotic lovable doofus who is brimming with childlike wonder at the start of the story. We're presented with a "rich kid" who got into space because his parents paid for it. We're presented with a guy who seems okay with the slaughter of others in order to protect himself. A lot of people are looking at Oscar and seeing "the earth is Fla(t)"

However we've barely scratched the surface of this story or this character not to mention the situation as a whole. So I'm staring at the smaller hidden letters (metaphorically) and wondering exactly what is actually going on with this guy. Because I'm pretty sure "the earth is Fla-bergasting" and so is Oscar.

Thank you for indulging this long ask. I felt like ranting because I love Oscar and this story.

There are three things in this world I can look at forever. How fire burns, how water flows, and how someone carefully analyzes a character in whom I have invested a lot of time and effort.

Holy shit this is incredibly interesting and oh my fucking god you wrote the entire essay?? your brain?? is powerful??rjfkgi

#marble sky ask

[nunalastor]

Radioapple Secret Marriage/Relationship au:

(They were married from the beginning but no one knows. This is extremely self indulgent cause no one else was making this.)

When Alastor fell into hell, he needed some time to get his bearings – understanding his strength as well as other things. And as soon as that was done he wreaked havoc.

(Lucifer's pov from now on)

Lucifer had heard of a new overlord. Someone murdering and making others suffer while broadcasting their screams on radio. And usually, he never bothered with this stuff, demons could be demons and he wasn't someone to care about a few suffering sinners.

But when he saw the fact that his daughter couldn't sleep because she was worrying about the demons – he let her listen to the radio once and they both listened in silence to the screams – and when he saw how depressed she had been, he decided to pay this "radio demon" a visit.

And for one, he hadn't expected the radio demon – Alastor, apparently – to be so... How do you put it? Kind, welcoming, motherly, accepting... Well, let's just say that Lucifer's day wasn't dull when talking to him.

Originally, he was supposed to have a 'talk' with Alastor (basically give him a beat down but let's not sweat the details). But as time went on he found himself enjoying their conversations, his little antics and his cooking were all amazing. Everything Alastor did would just brighten his day, especially since Lilith was in the process of separating Charlie from him so he'd just started losing his daughter and wife – who was probably going to ask for a divorce soon.

He opened up to Alastor and the demon was surprisingly good at giving advice (honestly, that demon was full of surprises). And despite the good advice, Lilith kept leaving and soon the divorce happened along with his complete loss of custody over Charlie.

He would've gone into a deep depression had it not been for Alastor checking in on him and making sure he was okay. And so they hung out more, Alastor would always make sure to give him some homemade food and he also always asked Lucifer if he was okay.

Lucifer knew he was a sinner, a cold blooded murderer, a cannibal and so on. But honestly, he had fallen head over heels for Alastor. Alastor, who was quite sweet if you found him at the right time. Alastor, who always pretended to be a bad person by pretending to have bad intentions. Alastor, who cares for and loves his mother dearly.

He found Alastor beautiful, every side of him.

And so, he inevitably confessed. With the hope that he wouldn't end out like the street rat whom Alastor saved – Box, or something like that (yes spelling mistake was intentional).

And he didn't. Alastor certainly didn't love him (he only said "I like you too" which sort of hurt Lucifer but he didn't really care much about the difference) but he did accept the confession. And with that Lucifer felt as if he was over the moon.

They did couple things – human couple things. Both of then were inexperienced but it was lucky that Alastor often studied others around him. So they did those things.

They hugged, kissed, they even held hands! Could you believe that? And with their fourth date came Alastor's actual confession. "I love you." Alastor finally trusted him enough to say that L word.

Of course most of their dates were done under disguises or they had private dates where no one could see them. And with time Alastor began to open up even more.

Lucifer heard about his abusive, neglectful father. His murderous tendencies. The way he always felt different, somehow. And he comforted Alastor about these things.

It was nice, since he loved Alastor's genuine smile.

And soon he proposed – or they both did. Lucifer considered it his win since the ring he got was much more beautiful than Alastor's. But Alastor's held more sentimental value (it was a ring his mother had left him before she died). So they decided to leave that one at a tie.

The ceremony was held in private. Lucifer didn't want his daughter nor his ex-wife to know of his quick moving on and Alastor didn't want people to know how soft he could be.

And they were just like any other married couple, just much much more healthier and loving. And for the matter, they barely fought. Those days were when they first met. The days when Alastor didn't trust him and Lucifer wanted to beat him up learn why the hell he broadcasted screams.

So when it had been their seventh year living together in private (Alastor temporarily stepped away from his 'job' to spend married life with Lucifer), Alastor decided it was time to get back into the loop. Lucifer was quite sad about this but Alastor assured he would always make sure to come back on weekends.

It was funny to see that one day Alastor was standing beside his daughter and treating her like his own. And it was hard to act like he hated the demon, especially when he loved him so much.

(For the record, this is Lucifer fell first AND harder and it is not very canonlike but who cares! Both of them are a happy cute couple who pretend to hate each other and cuddle when no one is watching.)

(I needed more wholesome aus but no one else would write them so I delivered this. Have a nice meal kids.)

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #alastor #radioapple #lucifer #Secret Marriage

[dreamcubed]

...ready for it? | mattheo riddle x reader

song; ...ready for it? [taylor swift] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!muggle-born!reader genre; fake dating, s2l, fluff, smut word count; 5,3k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, references to alcohol/drugs/smoking, violence, blood and injury, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, discrimination (of muggle-borns) summary; following the war, mattheo is suffocated by the association with his father, and decides there is only one way to make people see that he is nothing like him. you, on the other hand, want to prove to people that, in the year you've been in hiding, you have changed from the naïve goody-two-shoes you once were

screaming crying throwing up at how good tortured poets department is

masterlist

"in the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do."

————————————————

The rumours followed Mattheo Riddle like hitmen— praying for his downfall, never leaving him alone, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. To many, it was obvious what he was before even meeting him. Evidently, the son of the Dark Lord was every bit as bad as his father, would fill his shoes now that he was dead, that there would be a Third Wizarding War with Mattheo at the very centre of it. Never mind that he hardly knew his father, that Voldemort had been gone for almost his entire childhood.

After the final demise of the Dark Lord, and Mattheo had elected to return to Hogwarts for the subsidiary eighth year, his reputation built on gossip and assumptions had only gotten worse. It hadn't helped that he now bore the dark mark on his left forearm, and he had tried to explain that his father had forced him to take it, that he would have hurt him in unthinkable ways if he didn't, but no one listened. No one cared. He still had his friends, but his association with them didn't help, as most of them were pure-blooded Slytherins whose families were death eaters.

But without them he would have nothing.

He didn't understand— no one was nearly as mad at Draco for walking over to the Dark Lord at the final battle as they were at him for simply possessing some of his DNA. It made him resent his cousin, but he knew he couldn't blame him. He had been every bit as coerced into the death eater cult as him: threatened with the deaths of them and their families.

Muggle-borns and the majority of the half-bloods avoided him like the plague; even some pure-bloods, who were far more politically correct, looked at him with distaste in their eyes. Mattheo wanted to scream to the whole world that he wasn't his father and didn't give a single fuck about blood purity. But who would listen? They would see that he was screaming and immediately associate his anger with the desire to start a war.

You, on the other hand, also couldn't escape your reputation. Prior to the war, you had been known as a goody-two-shoes, called uptight, boring, a smartass. While in hiding throughout seventh year, you had shed any resemblance you had to such an identity, but despite appearing and acting completely differently now you had returned for the subsidiary eighth year, your peers still treated you like a naïve and overly innocent child. Bullied you, even, in some more extreme cases. They viewed you as socially inept, sexually unaware, scared of alcohol, smoking and drugs.

They wouldn't listen when you told them that you had changed— so, there you found yourself, in a Saturday detention after doing something incredibly stupid to get people to stop seeing you that way. The stupid thing in question? You had let yourself get caught being outside of your house quarters after curfew. It was pathetic, and an admittedly idiotic thing to do just for the sake of changing your reputation, but there you were.

Worst thing was it hadn't even worked.

"I bet she had a panic attack," a Ravenclaw girl had giggled.

"She definitely got on her knees and started begging for the professor to show mercy," a Hufflepuff boy had laughed.

They still saw you as pathetic and helpless: a certified teacher's pet.

"Miss L/N, you'll be serving detention with Mr Riddle today," Professor McGonagall spoke, snapping you out of your self-pitying thoughts, "Your task will be to clean every cauldron here in the potions classroom— by hand, no magic— until they are gleaming."

You glanced over to your right to see that Mattheo Riddle was indeed sat there: he must have snuck in while you were deep in thought. It was just your luck, that your weak attempt would have the worst possible consequences— being stuck in detention with the Dark Lord's son as a muggle-born.

"I will check on you both periodically." The headmistress then departed, but not before saying to you, "I'm disappointed in you, Miss L/N."

Even your professors still saw you as naïve. It made you angry.

Mattheo watched you curiously as you stormed over to the big stack of cauldrons and roughly grabbed one, slamming it down on the floor and grabbing the muggle cleaning supplies left out. You started scrubbing in such an anger-fuelled rigorous manner that he almost forgot that he was supposed to be helping you.

"You gonna help or not?" you snapped.

His eyes widened, and he couldn't stop a smirk from gracing his lips, "Never thought I'd see the day where goody-two-shoes L/N is in detention and yells at me."

"Would people stop fucking saying that?" you said all too loud, "I hate it. I fucking hate it."

"Hate what?" Mattheo asked delicately, standing up and walking over to grab a cauldron from the pile.

"Being called a goody-two-shoes like I'm some kind of child," you scowled, "I'm sick of being treated like I've never even had a sip of alcohol."

This was the first time since before the war that a muggle-born had even entertained having a full conversation with Mattheo, even if you were filled with rage throughout it. Because of that, he decided that he needed to calm you down and make you actually like him— association with a muggle-born could completely transform his reputation.

"I'm sorry," he said delicately, the words foreign to him, "I didn't realise it hurt you so much."

You stopped scrubbing the cauldron to look up at him with shock evident on your face: had the son of Voldemort just apologised to you? He had to be mocking you, there was no way he wasn't. "You're making fun of me," you said cautiously.

"I'm not, I swear," he held his hands up in surrender, "I know all too well what it's like to not be able to escape a reputation."

"Aren't you in here for getting into a fight?" you raised an eyebrow curiously.

He nodded grimly, "Guy wouldn't stop saying I'm exactly like my father."

And that was when your opinion of Mattheo began to soften, and you started to feel bad for assuming he hated muggle-borns simply because of who his father was. But he did have the Dark Mark.

"If you're not like him, why did you get that?" you gestured towards his left arm, which was covered but everyone knew what sat there.

Mattheo drew back, "He was responsible for genocide, do you really think he was beyond threatening me if I didn't take it?" His words were cold, and angry.

"Sorry," you mumbled, regretting asking such a personal question when you hardly knew him.

Silence fell upon you both for a couple minutes as you polished away at the cauldrons.

"For the record, I didn't ever think you'd only had a sip of alcohol."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, "No?"

He shrugged, "Everyone gets drunk. I just thought you only did it outside of school."

A small smile crept on to your face, "Thank you, mind telling everyone else that?"

"Sure."

You had said it as a joke— you didn't expect him to be so agreeable. "Really?"

He nodded.

"Oh, God, now I feel so bad."

"Why?" Mattheo asked, finding your muggle-speaking mannerisms endearing.

"Because I believed your reputation."

"You don't anymore?"

You shook your head, "This is the first time someone's ever treated me my age."

He tilted his head curiously, "You know, I think we might be able to help each other's reputations."

"You do?"

"Think about it," he shifted closer to you, "People think I hate muggle-borns, you're a muggle-born. People think you're an innocent goody-two-shoes, I'm known for being quite the opposite."

"So...?"

"We date."

Your brain short circuited and you dropped your cloth into the cauldron, "We... date?"

"Not for real," he clarified, "Just until people's views of us are changed."

You thought it over. It was true: no one would think of Mattheo as like his father if he was willingly in a relationship with a muggle-born, and no real goody-two-shoes would date bad boy Mattheo Riddle.

"Okay," you said, holding out your hand, "Let's do it."

The boy smirked, taking your hand, "Perfect."

***

When you arrived at dinner that evening, after a long few hours of cleaning cauldrons until they glistened, it was hand in hand. He squeezed your palm softly as watchful eyes observed the two of you together, and he even tugged you over to the Slytherin table, making you give him a worried look.

"They'll be civil," he leaned down to whisper in your ear. You nodded nervously.

All of his friends were in silence as they watched you take a seat next to Mattheo, and their jaws almost dropped when he began dishing food on to your plate first. You felt embarrassed under their gaze, but you didn't let it show, thanking Mattheo once your plate was full. He gave you a soft smile that you had never seen grace his face before— not that you had ever been close enough to him to see it.

One of his friends, Blaise Zabini, cleared his throat and broke the silence, "So, uh, are you two a thing?"

"Yeah," your 'boyfriend' replied.

"I didn't even know you were courting," Blaise stated simply, clearly suspicious.

"There's a lot of things you don't know," Mattheo said vaguely, "Can't a man have some secrets?"

Silence fell once more.

"Do any of you have a problem?" he asked, the slightest hint of anger lacing his tone.

They all immediately shook their heads.

"Good."

Despite Mattheo's friends being remarkably docile towards you, you could still feel the stare of other people littered around the room. It was quite a shock, you supposed, as you two were probably the last couple anyone would have expected. Regardless, they should really learn to mind their business— if they did, you wouldn't have to be doing a whole fake dating scheme in the first place.

***

Mattheo walked you to class, held your hand in the corridors, and even carried your books for you wherever you went. Stares continued to follow, but people no longer called you a goody-two-shoes: no, instead when you overheard people ask about you, they said "she's Riddle's girl" instead. You would prefer to be thought of as your own person, but it was certainly a step up from the reputation that you were so sick of. That, and Mattheo had informed you that muggle-borns were no longer avoiding him like the plague, even occasionally nodding at him in the hallways. All around, the plan was working.

No one knew that your dating scheme was fake apart from the two of you, even his friends believed it— and, despite your blood status, they were beginning to warm up to you. Pansy especially, and you were grateful to finally have someone that you could consider a friend.

One chilly Tuesday morning, when Mattheo was walking you to your ancient runes lesson, there was another girl in your class being 'dropped off' by her boyfriend. You both watched as he leaned down to peck her lips before leaving, and you didn't think anything of it until you reached the door and Mattheo leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Taken aback, your ears heated up, and you felt shy as he smirked at you.

"What was that for?" you whispered.

The man before you shrugged, "He did it. Can't have people knowing the truth about us."

"They have no reason to suspect it," you grumbled, but you couldn't deny the butterflies swarming around your stomach.

"Better safe than sorry," he grinned cheekily, "I'll see you later, doll, yeah?"

You nodded, caught off guard when he kissed you yet again.

You were in a daze when you entered the classroom, and you knew that everyone could guess why there was a smile plastered on your face. You felt like a lovesick fool, when you weren't even in love.

***

Mattheo had insisted that people would question the validity of your relationship if you didn't go on Hogsmeade dates together: every Hogwarts couple went on dates to Hogsmeade. You had reminded him that people had no reason to question whether or not your relationship was fake, but he had once again shrugged and said, "Better safe than sorry." Not that you minded, of course, you had always wanted to participate in the Hogsmeade dating tradition. Although, it did make you wonder how long this dating scheme would go on for, as Mattheo's reputation was essentially already completely transformed.

"Can we go in Honeydukes?" you asked as Mattheo, like the gentleman he apparently was, helped you down from the carriage.

"Of course," he smiled, not letting your hand go, "Wherever you want, doll."

Your stomach flipped, but there remained an itching notion in the back of your head. It was fake: it was all fake. He was only being so gentlemanly and caring to prove to the school that not only did he not share his father's views on muggle-borns, but that he could dote on one like it was his life's purpose. All he wanted was to no longer be seen as the devil's incarnate, so he presented himself as an angel. But, when he looked at you with that smirk and that glint in his eyes, it would feel real— just for the briefest moment. No one had ever been romantically interested in you before, maybe that's why you felt his actions deep in your core.

"Hello? Y/N?" his voice snapped you out of your drifting thoughts, and you realised that he was talking to you.

"Hm?"

"Thought I'd lost you there," he chuckled, "C'mon, doll— Honeydukes, remember?"

"Yeah, sorry," you looked down abashedly, and his grip on your hand tightened.

"Sometime this year, if that's okay with you."

***

Mattheo's ring-clad hands left a cool trail against your blazing skin, setting your insides alight as you felt wetness pool at your core. He had his signature smirk settled on his face, the smooth curve of his pink lips sending sparks throughout your body. The hazed look in his dark eyes likely mirrored the one in yours— you were getting desperate, revelling in the way he stared at your tits.

"Please, Matty," you murmured, begging for something, anything.

His sinister chuckle made your senses twitch and tingle. "Please what? What do you want, doll?"

"You," you said thoughtlessly, reaching your hands up to grasp on to his shirt.

"I'm all yours," he whispered, his hand trailing down to the inside of your shorts and panties. When he finally made contact with your slick entrance, your hips bucked up, grateful to have finally received some amount of stimulation. "You're so wet for me."

You hummed as he began tracing circles on your clit, forcing out a moaned, "Only for you."

He applied more pressure, making you grasp on to the bedsheets for dear life, unable to physically comprehend the magic feel of his calloused fingertips. The smirk on his face returned as he watched you writhe beneath him, and you felt your peak approaching faster than you had imagined was possible. Everything about it felt so right, so perfect, so erotic.

"You gonna come for me, angel?" he asked, his eyes locked on to yours.

You nodded.

"Then come."

And just as you felt your muscles begin to tighten and the pleasure begin to climax, the moment was cut short.

***

You were in bed, that much was still the same, but there was no sign of a Slytherin descendant anywhere in your vicinity, and your tits were not out in the open, being enclosed within your large pyjama shirt. You groaned, feeling the pool of wetness between your legs, but being unable to do anything about it due to your shared dormitory situation. Fuck, Mattheo wasn't even your real boyfriend, and you had just had a godly wet dream about him that lit a match in your soul.

How could you face him after picturing him in such an intimate situation? How could you pretend like you were okay with the surface-level falseness of your façade? He was your doom's day: you could feel it. You should never have agreed to a fake relationship, and remained begrudgingly within your outdated reputation.

Reluctantly, you peeled the covers off of your sweating body, and made your way to the showers.

***

Avoiding him was just as impossible as being around him. For one, you couldn't risk people questioning the stability or realness of your relationship. For two, the second you entered the Great Hall for breakfast, he was beckoning you over to where his friends were. And you couldn't very well ignore him when he had done absolutely nothing wrong.

"Hey, doll," he greeted you, pecking your cheek in the process. The very action made the flame burn brighter.

"Hi," you all but squeaked, focusing your attention on taking some waffles.

"We were just discussing the next quidditch game."

"It's a guaranteed win for Slytherin," Zabini smirked, knowing full well that the team that they would be playing against was your house's.

You scrunched up your nose, "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Are you not even gonna wear my jumper during the game?" Mattheo asked, sending yet another sparking bolt straight through your veins. You could feel your body heating up just by being in his presence.

"Against any other house I would, but I have to draw the line somewhere," you said, hoping your voice sounded completely normal and not at all like you craved his naked form. Unfortunately, the appeal of wearing a clothing item that would have his scent woven into its fabric was not helping your case.

"Pity," he grumbled.

Thankfully, Zabini challenging your opinion that Slytherin wasn't guaranteed to win led to a wonderfully distracting argument with the rest of the Slytherin boys. Not only was it a distraction, but it also made you feel as if they saw you as an equal, not just as a muggle-born, but in age and lack of innocence as well. It was a stupid notion, but it was the kind of treatment that you had desired for so long.

"I can't stand this quidditch talk any longer," Pansy finally said, having remained quiet for the majority of the conversation, "Y/N, wanna get away from the men?"

"Please," you murmured, grateful to escape the intoxicating presence of Mattheo.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Pansy shook her head as she stood up, "Anywhere but here. The girls' toilets if it means getting away from you all."

You giggled, going to stand up. You felt Mattheo's hand grasp your wrist, giving way to tingly sensations reminiscent of last night's dream.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course," you nearly stuttered, "We have defence against the dark arts."

He nodded, letting go of your wrist, before saying to Pansy, "Don't keep her too long."

"Calm down, lover boy," she retorted, linking arms with you as you began to walk off.

The last thing you heard from the Slytherin boys was Berkshire saying to Mattheo, "You're pussy-whipped, mate."

Oh, how you wished he was.

***

"I don't know how you managed to lock down prince of the fuckboys Mattheo," Pansy spoke as you both entered the girls' toilets, "And I do see the way he looks at you-"

"The way he looks at me?"

She nodded, "Like you're the only girl in the room— but, please be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."

You knew that it was too late for that, as you had caught feelings in a fake relationship, and it was killing you inside that you couldn't tell anyone about it. All you could do was agree with Pansy. "Thank you for your concern, I appreciate it."

"Of course, we're friends," Pansy smiled, "And I love Mattheo dearly as a friend, but I know his history when it comes to romance and sex."

"People change," you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

"That they do," she agreed, "But just be sure of Mattheo's change before you fall madly in love with him."

Somehow you feared it was too late for that.

***

During defence against the dark arts— a theory lesson, unfortunately— you found your seat next to Mattheo as you let Pansy's words mull over you. The anxious pondering that you were in too deep caused you to start nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It was an action that did not go unnoticed by Mattheo, who furrowed his eyebrows at your behaviour. Gently, he placed his hand on your thigh and watched as you froze up at the contact.

Because, little did he know, the simple act of a touch so close to your core sent tingling flashbacks of your dream of him flooding through your veins. Your skin became ablaze with desire, and long gone was the obsessive overthinking about what Pansy had said to you. You sucked in a shallow breath, gripping your quill tightly as you glanced towards Mattheo who was now looking at you with thrice the concern than he was earlier.

"You okay?" he whispered.

You gulped and nodded, but it was clear that he didn't believe you. He squeezed your thigh gently, and you swore that your brain nearly short-circuited— yet you didn't want to push his hand off. This moment was so far removed from the fake external image of your relationship that you temporarily forgot all of your concerns. No one could see where his hand was: it served no purpose towards your reputation as a couple.

Merlin knows you would never be able to recall the content of that lesson.

***

One breezy autumnal afternoon and you were walking down the hallway, hand in hand with Mattheo and giggling about this and that. You had finally pushed Pansy's warning to the very back of your mind, and allowed yourself to almost fully immerse yourself in the moment with your so-called boyfriend. The interlocked nature of your hands felt natural as you paid no mind to bystanders.

That was, until, the unmistakable word of mudblood passed through your ears from the direction of a seventh year Slytherin, who evidently disapproved of your newfound association with the house. It was annoying, really, how your ears always tuned into that word no matter how distracted you were. You paused in your movements and stared at him: you were no longer timid, nor a push-over. Mattheo looked confusedly at you and where you were looking.

"What are you looking at, mudblood?" the seventh year sneered at you, and before you could even say anything, Mattheo's hand had let go of yours.

And he had barrelled right into the boy, throwing merciless punches as his face went stone cold. "Do you wanna say that again, hm?" he spat, landing another solid hit, "Don't ever fucking talk about my girlfriend like that."

You stared in shock at the brawl, feeling a whole wave of mixed emotions— Mattheo was defending you, and by God did he look fucking hot doing it. But, also, you really should break up the fight before he committed manslaughter.

"Mattheo," you said softly, but he didn't hear you, so you said louder and more sternly, "Mattheo."

His movements ceased and he resorted to staring down at the boy who now groaned in pain, covered in blood and already darkening bruises.

"This was a warning," he said carefully, "Next time I won't stop."

You shook your head, grabbing his bicep to pull him off the boy for good and dragging him away. It was lucky there hadn't been a professor around, but they would probably still find out one way or another and Mattheo would get punished. For now, however, he was yours to deal with.

"I can fight my own battles," you bit off, but there wasn't any real malice in your tone.

"I know," he said simply.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, "Thank you, though, for defending me."

"Of course. No one belittles my girl."

Your heart flipped— there was nobody around, there was no reason for him to say that. Deciding to focus your attention in order to ignore the thumping of your heart, you analysed his hands. "We need to get you cleaned up."

"It's just a little blood," he shrugged.

"A little is still too much. C'mon."

You dragged him to the abandoned girls' toilets, where Moaning Myrtle resided, and ran some toilet paper (which had probably been there for decades) under the tap. As you began delicately wiping down the injuries, Mattheo watched you with intrigue, admiring your attention to detail. Little did he know, you were simply trying to stop yourself from replaying the sexiest image you had ever scene in your life inside your head. You felt as if you were about to burst into flames.

Once you were finally done, you chucked the toilet paper into a toilet and re-emerged from the cubicle, making eye contact with the man leaning against the sinks. Moaning Myrtle seemed to be nowhere in sight.

Which was a good thing, because the tension in the air was thick— thicker than blood. You bit your lip as Mattheo's eyes raked down your body and drank you in. Under his gaze, you felt purely animalistic: beauty didn't matter, intelligence didn't matter... all that mattered was skin on skin and bodies becoming one. But, when it became clear no one was going to make a move, you said, "Pansy warned me about you."

"In what way?" he smirked.

"That I shouldn't get in too deep with the prince of fuckboys until I'm sure you've changed."

"And do you think I've changed?"

"What does it matter? We're not actually together."

A flash of hurt coursed through Mattheo at the reminder, but he remained stoic and said, "That's not what I asked, is it?"

You stared at him blankly.

"Do you think I've changed?" he repeated.

You said nothing.

"Because I think I've changed," he stepped closer to you, "So, I'll ask you one more time, do you think I've changed?"

"Yes," you replied feebly.

"My friends think I've changed," he continued, "They think I'm pussy-whipped."

You felt bold for the briefest moment, and asked, "Are you?"

He shrugged, leaning his face down until it was inches from yours, "I don't know yet. Guess we'll have to find out."

And then his lips were on yours in a passionate frenzy. None of those pecks he had given you in greeting and goodbye: no, this was a real kiss, one that had the fire in your heart dancing erratically. You pulled away, breathless, to see that Mattheo was looking at you with hazy dark eyes.

"Was that real?" you asked.

"Well, it happened, didn't it?"

You shook your head, "I mean, was it real?"

A smirk tugged on his lips, "No one was here to see, sweetheart."

And that was all the confirmation you needed to kiss him again, sliding your tongue along his lips as he grabbed your ass, squeezing and groaning. You felt electric, alive— transcendent. His mouth moved from your lips, to along your jaw, to your neck. He sucked and licked in a way that had you letting out a gasp, melting under his touch.

"You're my nicotine," he mumbled, slipping a hand under your skirt and pushing you back against the wall.

You moaned as his fingers glided over your clit.

"You like that, doll?"

Helplessly, you nodded, your legs buckling as he applied more pressure and more vigour.

"Mhm, that's my girl," he murmured, bringing you quicker to your release than you had ever been able to manage yourself.

"Fuck, Matty, I'm gonna come," you gasped out, hips bucking up as you leaned against the tiled wall.

He chuckled as you rode out your high, the slickness of your pussy creating a squelching sound throughout the acoustics of the massive vacant toilets.

"I hate it when my friends call me that," he muttered, pulling his fingers out from under your skirt.

Your ears heated up even more— if that was possible— and you quickly rushed out a, "Sorry."

"Don't be," he kissed your lips softly, "I like it when you say it."

Your lips curved into a shy smile.

"Do you mind if we deal with a certain problem?" he asked, gesturing to the tent in his trousers that had more slick leaking from you at the sight of.

"Of course," you said slyly, a new wave of confidence rushing over you. Slowly, you walked around him and sauntered over to the sinks, pulling your tights and panties down as you leaned forward and lifted up your skirt.

"Fuck," you heard him curse, "You really have changed."

And then he was behind you, as suggested by the sound of a zipper so close to you, and the fact you could see him in the mirror. You watched as he pulled out his dick, which was thick and long, making your mouth water as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure?" he questioned, not sure if he could take any answer but 'yes'.

You bobbed your head, "Fuck me, Matty."

"As you wish, doll." And then he was inside you, filling you to the brim and making you feel as if you were finally whole.

"Fuck," you gasped, clutching the edge of the sink as he began thrusting, your eyes tightly shut.

"Look at me."

You opened your eyes, making eye contact with him in the looking glass. Sweat was gathered on his brow, and his hands were tightly on your hips— you felt so close to him, in such a real and authentic way that had your soul burning.

One of his hands moved, retreating out of your view, but you knew exactly where it went when you felt a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. He rubbed circles that had you seeing stars, your moans and curses pushing Mattheo close to the edge along with the pure ecstasy of how you felt around him. He didn't think he had ever been so vocal during sex before, but with you, everything felt brand new. Finally, Mattheo felt like he belonged somewhere, felt like he was nothing like his father— but he had no place in his thoughts at that moment. Instead, he focused on you and the clothed curves of your body, until he was about to explode.

"Can I come inside you?" he panted.

In a sex haze, you moaned, "Yes."

And then his release hit, the throbbing of his dick pushing you to your second orgasm as his movements became sloppy. Eventually, once your highs had been ridden through, he stopped moving, the only sounds remaining being the ones of heavy breathing. When he had pulled out, and you had both cleaned up and done up your clothes, you gave him a teasing smile.

"Are we real now?"

He chuckled, "This was never fake. Not to me."

"Well, then, boyfriend," you smirked, "Better scurry on and get me a Plan B potion."

He pressed a kiss to your lips, "Yes, ma'am."

And he took your hand in his.

———————————————

masterlist

written; 10/04/2024 —> 25/04/2024 published; 25/04/2024 edited; —/—/——

#harry potter #hp oneshot #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfic #mattheo riddle smut #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo smut #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #muggle born reader #fluff and smut #fake dating #8th year

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Brotherly Approval

quinn hughes x nhl player!reader

note: not super proud of this but learning that not everything has to be perfect as long as it's enjoyable for y'all to read

After spending two weeks with Y/n’s parents in Montreal, the couple made their way to the lake house. They were now getting close to the house so of course Y/n was thinking of everything that could ever possibly go wrong. Y/n had met Quinn’s family before, but they weren’t really official at that time, only having met them after games but with the possibility of cameras around it wasn’t what she wanted it to be. But now that she was staying with them for the summer it was time to make a good impression.

“But you’ve already met them.” “Well yeah, but that was just as your teammate… who you occasionally slept with, but now they’re meeting me as your girlfriend. It’s completely different.” “Clearly.” “I don’t appreciate your attitude.” “I was agreeing with you!” “No you weren’t.” They playfully fought back and forth a little more before Quinn pulled into the driveway of the infamous lake house.

Y/n was right, meeting them was different this time. Instead of a quick ‘hello’ then going on her way she was cooking dinners with Ellen, talking to Jim about off-season training, and spending days with the group on the lake. 

For once everything was good. And she was so thankful, she was with the man she loved, without herself in her own way of that. And he loved her back.

-

They’d been out on the lake for a while now, a couple were jumping in now that they were in a good spot. Y/n stood from where she sat next to Quinn and took off her shirt, which was actually one of Quinn’s old UMich shirts.

Subtly Quinn looks her up and down, admiring her body in her bikini, he notices the string on the side of her hip, seeming to want to come loose. He stops her wordlessly with a hand on the inside of her thigh and softly he pulls her more in front of him. Y/n seemed unbothered as she continued talking to Trevor who was in the water.

Luke glanced over hearing the girl’s laugh, as well as Trevor’s loud voice that was unmistakable, he watched his brother turn the girl so he could tie the otherside tighter and gave her a tap on her ass when he was done. 

The small moment, something that seemed meaningless, meant so much. The way Y/n was so comfortable, not for a second questioning why her boyfriend was messing with the strings of her bikini in public. And the way Quinn gave the action no thought. It made Luke hope he found that. Someone he was effortlessly comfortable with.

-

Y/n came back from the bathroom, deciding instead of sitting back on the chair to sit on Quinn’s lap. She was tired and needed the touch of her boyfriend, she knew he wasn’t big on pda but being this tired she wasn’t really thinking.

Quinn didn’t think too much of it, taking his phone into one hand and spreading his arms for her to sit. She sat sideways on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck then giving him a forehead kiss before laying her head on his chest. He also gave her a forehead kiss when she settled after he pushed the hair out of her face.

“Hi.” “Hi.” 

Jack turned his head after hearing the loving couple muttering to each other. Quinn had ever been this comfortable with pda from a girl in front of him ever. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but the smile on Quinn’s face and Y/n hiding her in his brother’s neck, he assumed he didn’t want to know. 

His assumption was proven right when Quinn lifted both of them from the couch and said they were going to ‘bed’. He couldn’t take his eyes away from them, he could tell Quinn was so happy. 

“He’s happy.” Jack said, glancing at Luke who was sitting next to him, Luke without looking away from the video game he was playing said, “Yeah he is. Y/n’s good for him.”

-

Lining up her shot, focusing and trying very hard to tune out the noise in the room as she plays pool against Luke. Softly hitting the white ball just enough for it to hit the striped ball into the corner pocket. Luke then circled the table, trying to find a shot. Y/n was smiling, she could tell she was going to win.

Quinn was on the other side of the room, he sat on the couch only half-listening to the conversation he was in with Jack and Brady. He couldn’t help it, he loved seeing his girl smiling, and he really loved seeing her get close to his brother’s.

“Q! Bro, were you listening?” “Kinda.” He replied to his brother’s annoying interruption from his favourite pass-time; watching Y/n smile and listening to her laugh. Getting a hit on his knee by said annoying brother he breaks his gaze from the girl to look back at the boys.

“What?” Brady was no longer there, unbeknownst to the man Jack had politely shooed Brady off, he got it he had a brother. “Damn, don’t have to be so annoyed. I just wanted to say I was happy for you. And that except for the fact that she loves you, she seems really cool.” “Aw gee, thanks.” “Me and Luke were talking when y’all went to ‘bed’ the other night. We both really like her.” 

Even though they joke a lot, Jack and Luke’s opinion meant a lot to Quinn; they were brothers. And hearing he had his little brothers’ approval of the woman he loved made him really happy. Though he’d probably only admit that to his mom and Y/n. 

“Thanks, man. Means a lot.” Jack got up with a nod and a pat on his brother’s back as he made his way to get another beer.

“Quinny! I won!” Her excited words cut Quinn from his thoughts, smiling when he saw how happy she was and moved her name up on the pool leaderboard.

~taglist~

@books-hlmc @bunbunbl0gs @alwaysclassyeagle

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x nhl player!reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x fem reader #quinn hughes x female reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes fic #jack hughes #luke hughes #hughes brothers fic #hughes brothers #quinn hughes fluff #qh43

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #dc au #damian wayne #kon el #dc prudence #thank you for the ask!!!! #y'all remember to be careful when adding romantic relationships to time travel #timkon is cute but the age difference (even though Tim's body regresses) could get spooky here

[hollytoshaw]

hiii i know you havent posted in a while but if you are still taking requests would you do blurb or smau of harry and reader buying a new house maybe in guernsey or london and its just cute domestic vibes ? love your work :)

ahhh love this idea!!! i'm still taking requests just been a bit slow getting round to them all because i'm back at uni and have a load of work i need to do :( but hope you enjoy this little blurb!!! xx

home | harry lewis

summary: y/n and harry move in to their forever home

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mostly just a cutesy/fluff blurb but references to sex at the end

The day had finally come for Y/N and Harry. The day they were about to move into their new house. Sure, they had shared a quaint but homely London flat for the past five years, but now they were onto bigger things. Their first proper forever home. 

To say Harry was bricking it was an understatement. Of course, the pair had done their fair share of moving around, life tucked away in cardboard boxes, but this was the real deal—probably the last time they’d ever have to do this, and God, there was so much to do, and Harry felt completely hopeless. He’d spent the last half an hour trying to get the garage door to open, slapping the remote aimlessly with his hand to try and get it to work, and pulling his hair in defeat when it didn’t. It turns out he had been using the wrong remote the whole time, and instead of opening the garage door, he had been toying about with your house's light system, the lights inside the house flickering on and off as he sighed in frustration outside unknowingly. He was stressed, and Y/N was inside, thinking they had faulty electrics.. It was a great start. 

Another five minutes passed, and Harry had given up, deciding his car looked much better parked on the driveway anyway, and took it upon himself to unload some more boxes from the boot of his car. He walked up to the house, rummaging in his pockets for the house keys, cursing under his breath when he saw sight of that stupid remote that had caused him torture for the last few minutes—he'd have chucked it in the bin at this rate, but knew Y/N would give him a telling-off for being so silly. Shoving the key in the door, he opened the blue door that had drawn the pair in the first time they came to view the house—his favourite colour being blue and Y/N loving the pop of colour it gave—a warm welcome to future guests that the two would definitely have. He placed the two boxes he had managed to carry from the car and kicked off his Air Forces, abiding by Y/N’s  ‘No Shoes’ rule that she had gone on and on about, not wanting to dirty the brand new floors. 

He could hear the faint sound of some pop song he didn’t know the name of as he made his way down the hallway, a fresh smell of paint wafting into his nose. He leaned on the doorframe, not before tapping his finger to check if the paint had dried and luckily it had as he couldn’t think of anything worse than getting paint all over his new hoodie. He could see the woman he loved trailing around the kitchen, cupboards open, and boxes all over the marble kitchen counter. She had a determined look on her face as she placed different glassware and plates into cupboards—shiny new ones but also some that Harry had recognised from their old flat. She couldn’t see him as he watched her intently, struggling to lift a heavy box that was filled to the brim with more kitchenware. He knew he’d ought to help her because she was struggling, but the sight was something to enjoy, and a smug look was present on his face as he watched his love scuffle around the kitchen in her pink crocs and his old jumper that was a few sizes too big for her. 

‘’You need a hand, lovely?’’ he teased as she whipped her head around at the sound of his voice, plates nearly falling out of her hands.

‘’Fucking hell, Harry’’ She gasped, steadying the plates in her hands, leaving them down on the counter as she looked properly at him. He had a cheeky grin on his face that made her want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. ‘’Don’t sneak up on me like that.’’

‘’I would have warned you, but I can’t bloody hear myself think over this shite music.’’ he laughed as he made his way over to the counter and pressed the volume down on the speaker that was bellowing endless pop tunes. 

‘’Don’t hate on Sabrina Carpenter; she’s an icon.’’ 

‘’I haven’t a clue who that is.’’ Harry narrowed his eyes at her as she made her way towards him, wrapping her hands around his waist. 

Looking up at him, Y/N laughed, ‘’Course you don’t, you old man.’’ With a kiss to his lips, she smiled, and she took her arms from his waist, wanting to get a better look at him. ‘’How was your day?’’

‘’Was alright.’’ Harry sighed, ‘’Saw the lads for a bit and picked up the last of the boxes from storage, but that’s all. How was yours?’’

‘’OK. Better now you’re home.’’ she smiled. 

The word home almost made Harry’s heart explode out of his chest. It just sounded so good and so right. This place was home, especially with the two here together. 

‘’Think there’s a problem with the electrics though; the lights kept flickering earlier. I hope this place isn’t haunted - they never advertised that.’’ She laughed. 

''Oh, for fuck sakes.’’ Harry cursed, pulling her hand so that her body was nearer to him and away from the counter. ‘’Well, at least I’m here now to protect you from anything scary.’’

Y/N snorted, ‘’Some job you’d do at protecting me—you're scared of everything, silly.’’

''Oh, shut up and gimme me a kiss.’’ he said before separating the space between them once again. 

✩ ✩ ✩

A couple of hours had passed, and Y/N and Harry had managed to unpack all the boxes from the kitchen, living room, and bedroom, leaving all the others piled up in a spare room, ready for them to tackle the following day. To say they were exhausted would have been an understatement.

‘’I’m here all day tomorrow.’’ Harry hummed, ‘’What’s the unpacking plan?’’  

‘’Hmm, I’m thinking we start with the spare rooms.’’ Y/N yawned, her body relaxing into Harry’s body as the pair lay on the sofa, his hands delicately playing with her hair. ‘’Then maybe we could do your filming room; you’ll need that soon enough, won’t you?’’ 

‘’What about your office?’’ Harry asked, knowing Y/N loved her little office she had in their old flat. The two loved one another’s company, don’t get them wrong, but sometimes it was nice that they had their own separate little rooms where they could get on with whatever they needed to that day with no distractions—Harry mostly shouting at his computer filming a More Sidemen video and Y/N working on her fashion blog, headphones on so she didn’t hear her lover screaming every ten minutes. 

‘’That can wait. You need your room done more than me; you have all that filming to do.’’ She poked at his side. 

‘’You’re an angel, d’you know that, ’’ Harry smiled. ‘’We’ll try to do both.’’

Y/N hummed into him, knowing that they probably would only end up doing one room before Harry ended up getting distracted while he unpacked, finding some random useless item he had kept from 2014. ‘’We’ll try.’’

‘’You feeling tired?’’ Harry asked as he kept playing with her hair. She always got tired whenever he did it, usually lulling to sleep half the time, but Harry didn’t mind; he enjoyed watching her pretty eyes flutter to sleep, knowing she felt safe in his embrace. 

‘’Not really.’’ She lied. ‘’Why, what are you thinking?’’

Pulling his hand from her head, she looked up at him dreamily, and it was like she could see the thoughts spinning around his head as he watched her intently. 

‘’Just thinking we haven’t christened the house yet is all.’’ He smiled, a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. 

‘’Christened the house?’’ Y/N laughed, moving to prop herself up to get a better look at her smirking boyfriend. 

‘’Yeah, you know, like they do in the movies.’’

‘’What sort of movies have you been watching?’’ Y/N snorted. 

''Oh, shut up, don’t you start,’’ Harry tutted playfully, ‘’Y’know what I mean.’’

‘’Go on then; tell me more.’’ Y/N teased.

Harry laughed. So she wanted to indulge him. Thought she was tired? Bullshit.

‘’Just feel like we’ve got a lot of rooms to christen, big house and all,’’ He pressed a kiss on her cheek. ‘’I’m thinking we start upstairs and work our way around the house.’’

‘’All in one night? You’ll be knackered.’’ She teased again.

‘’We’ve got forever, lovely, not just the night,’’ Harry smiled. ''Plus, I think you’ll be the knackered one once I’ve had my way with you.’’ Pressing another kiss on her other cheek. 

‘’Is that so?’’ Y/N’s voice spoke. Yeah, she wasn’t tired anymore at all.  

‘’Yes, doll,’’ Harry grinned, ‘’Don’t pretend you don’t know it.’’

‘’Hmm,’’ she sighed before getting up from the sofa, untangling herself from his grasp and the mounds of blankets that surrounded them. ‘’Race you upstairs then.’’ She said this before legging it out the living room door. She could hear Harry groan from the sofa as she waited momentarily outside the doorway, not wanting to run too far ahead of him. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life, chucking the blankets and his phone to the side as he raced out the door to see her not that far ahead of him, nearing the staircase. 

‘’Thought you were faster than that, lovely.’’ He laughed as he chased after her, hands flying out in front of him to try and take hold of her hand but failing as she was always just a few inches ahead of him. 

‘’Come on, slow coach.’’ She echoed from the top of the stairs, and he could see that his hoodie that she’d been wearing for the past few hours had been discarded over the bannister. What a menace, he thought. 

With her just out of sight, he took heavy steps up the stairs before pausing at the top, letting out a sigh of happiness. His favourite girl in the world, running around their house as she shouted for him from their bedroom—he could so get used to this, he knew that for sure. 

Their home together, forever.

✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: hope you enjoyed this little blurb!!! i'll try and get back to doing my requests and series updates more frequently - just need to find the time x

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader