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panchatea · 3 days

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Aletheia & Etterath

ChaCha Story Commissions.

Gahyeon x Male Reader ft. SuA

Tags: Romance, Lover’s Sex, Dreamcatcher, Gahyeon, SuA, Fluff, Melodrama

Wordcount: 11956

LAST PART OF THE SERIES

PART 1 - Aulasy & Kairoclerosis

PART 2 - Amour & Liaison

A/N: This is the last part of this series. Yey! I hope it's okay, I haven't written anything this technical before and I haven't written smut for more than a year. please do tell me how is it. It's not perfect but yeah.

Support me on KOFI

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“Unnie, do you love me?” There’s just something that has always been both a blessing and a curse for me. People seem to think I am just a dumb pretty face who is unaware of anything around her—even my members always treat me like I'm a child.

However, the truth is, I know…

I observe and I always watch.

I know.

I just don't talk.

“Gahyeonie, of course, I love you.” She smiled caringly as she continued to wipe that iniquitous body of hers that I’m so jealous of—slender, sexy, toned, and petite so unlike my curvy voluptuous body. Well, despite my jealousy of her body and other things, I’m glad to have her, she loves me so genuinely like her own sister.

I love her too.

But I know…

She’s jealous of me too, and makes me so happy.

“Do you love him too?” She smiled again, but this time it was almost too bittersweetly. Bora-unnie opened her mouth and she didn't speak for a moment.

“Of course, I love him.” I know you. That was your true feelings, wasn't it?

“Every member loves him. He’s cute and he takes good care of you. There's no way we wouldn't love him.” That was true. She didn't lie, but it was far from her truth.

Nonetheless, I just tucked myself in the sheets and pretended to sleep. I just didn't know what to say to her or you so I held back. It wasn't before I felt her warm body beside me. It was Bora-unnie.

She's always been good to me. She always took good care of me. What's mine could have been hers, but she didn't take it. She gave you to me.

I always knew.

I saw it.

That spark in your eyes the first time you met her. Time must have slowed for you during those five seconds.

The way you listened intently to my stories, but you always had ears for things about her. You were always curious, but you never asked.

The way you glance over her reaction whenever they teased us of being lovers before.

The way she had always greeted you first. And was always there watching over us two.

You two always had an eye for each other.

It always felt like she wanted you.

And when you asked her about love.

When you said “I love you” to her.

I knew.

“Can’t fall asleep?” I heard Bora-unnie say. I thought it was for me, but then…

“Noona, what will happen from now on?” You answered her from my left side. I only noticed your presence then, maybe from all the thinking.

“I honestly don’t know,” Bora-unnie said as I felt her warm embrace engulf me, “she didn’t say it but I think she knows, but I’m too scared to ask.”

And I’m too scared to tell you two. Why didn’t I just wish the two of you to live happily? Why must you two hurt because of me?

“I’m happy and grateful for her tonight so I decided not to be greedy from now on. Tonight might happen again or not ever again but either way, I’m fine with it,” she continued as her hug tightened.

I’m the one who should be sorry for ruining something beautiful between the two of you. I’m sorry for being selfish, but I’m sorry because I don’t regret it.

“Whether she might decide to keep this sexual thing going or decide to acknowledge my feelings for you and let me share your relationship with the three of us or just bury it, I will not complain and do something.” I already did acknowledge it Bora-unnie, but the moment you surrendered him to me, that was when you already lost.

“After all, I already gave you up to her ever since that day, and it’s a decision I don’t wanna take back and regret,” she said lastly. The pain was apparent in her tone. Her hands that hugged me were shaking. You sighed, you were quiet, you were just listening, and I wish you had expressed your thoughts more, but as usual, you were reserved.

“So that’s it?” You said with a tone of acceptance and defeat.

“That’s it,” She agreed before breaking her hug and turning her back to drift to sleep.

I opened my eyes, only to be met by your sleeping face.

The face of the man that I love.

The man who I wish loved me as much I love him, but sadly I’m not confident.

What a player. It feels conflicting. I don’t plan on giving you up, but I’m not sure what these emotions are or what should I feel. You never cheated on me with her. You never did anything to compromise this relationship. You worked so hard to show your love for me, but whenever Bora-unnie is here, it always feels like you are chained to her, and she only pulls once, then you’ll leave me. I’m always at the mercy of her pity for me. Your words earlier still linger in my ear. I trust you and your words.

“I loved you but I love Gahyeon.”

“Thank you, but please wait for me… at least until I can make a decision”

That's what I said but then again,

I knew…

I would still choose you even if you don't.

And I wish,

You would choose me too.

The next day after that night was anticlimactic. It was awkward eating breakfast that morning. Everyone was quiet while eating the hotel room service food. It was a simple breakfast of toast, honey, butter, bacon, eggs, and coffee.

“This breakfast reminds me of Europe, we would eat this every day and I kinda missed the usual Korean breakfast after a while,” Gahyeon reminisced and you followed the conversation by asking about things about their tour while SuA stayed quiet, just listening to the two of you until breakfast was over. Gahyeon was weird today. She wasn’t doing that thing while she ate.

SuA excused herself, saying that she had an appointment and left you two alone.

“I’ll go now, Kids. Take care you two.” SuA said before she left. SuA looked rather down, she wasn’t being her usual mature and mischievous self. It felt like she had a problem she couldn’t share.

“Worried?” She asked you.

It became even more awkward when you and Gahyeon were left alone inside the room. No one dared to talk about what happened last night. It felt like there was a wall between the two of you and Gahyeon had a lump inside her throat that she couldn’t get out. She tried to smile but they were bittersweet. You wanted to say something to help her but there was nothing, as you were painfully aware of the fact that you were the reason.

“About what?” You answered back but you knew it was about SuA leaving so abruptly.

“I have no things to worry about.” You added as you smiled awkwardly.

Gahyeon stayed quiet after that and sat right beside you before locking hands with yours as she leaned onto your shoulders. She was clingy, refusing to let off your hand. It was comforting and reassuring, but it might be even a call for help from her.

“Do you wanna stay like this all day?” You opted to stay with her.

“No, I should visit my mom and dad. I haven’t seen them for so long,” She said and asked you to drive to her parent’s house. They haven’t seen her for so long you agreed.

The drive wasn’t any better. It was uncomfortably quiet with only the radio music filling the air. Thankfully, it played one Dreamcatcher’s song, and Gahyeon humming along with it made the atmosphere a little lighter. It was quite a long ride, but you survived.

Something was going on, and you were being kept in the dark. You knew it was about SuA. About what happened yesterday? It was not like you weren’t affected either. But you knew it was because of you, and you couldn’t do much.

“I love you,” you whispered before kissing her gently on the lips in front of her parents’ house. It was the only thing you thought you could do. A gentle kiss and the words she wanted to hear the most.

Gahyeon reciprocated with a peck of her own on your lips. She inched close, another on your cheek. Before whispering her reply to your words.

“I love you too.” This time the side of her lips raised as she was almost too drawn by the black hole in front of her. Three words and a kiss were the reassurance she deserved. She turned around happily to their house.

The night before, Gahyeon wished for you to express yourself more. Say that you wanted her as much as she wanted you. Reject Bora flatly, but instead, what she got was only you wondering and a last defeated line.

But this time, the saying of those three words and the kiss reassured Gahyeon of something. Something that made her feel less of a pitied woman and more of a chosen love.

Months have passed since then and it was like the hatchet was buried. The topic has never been talked about. Unsaid feelings and concerns were left unsaid, but you and Gahyeon continued to work on your relationship. It was like she didn’t have to bring it up, as you knew ever since that moment in front of her parent’s house—it was a testament to your feelings—it was all that was needed.

Today, there she was sitting on her chair. With that black dress’ fitting her, she would make every model in this world thankful that Gahyeon became an idol—it hugged her body tightly, proudly highlighting her gorgeous figure. Not just that, the French tips, the designer ring you gifted her, a scrunchy just in case, pink hair, and red lips, complete a date night look.

Gahyeon was a goddess.

Gahyeon no matter what she was wearing or even if she was wearing nothing at all, she would be the most beautiful girl in this world to you and many people. Today though, she was dressed extra special, just for you, and with that, you were thankful for being the one chosen by this goddess.

Gahyeon’s attention was all poured into the menu in front of her. She giggled as she looked at each page excitedly. Why wouldn’t she be excited? The meal was treated by you, and it was your second anniversary. You just stared at her, reminiscing all of the things that you two had gone through for the past year. From a rather peculiar deal after a one-night stand, a night for three naked bodies with the same girl you had a one-night stand with, and through all of that confusion and pain you had caused the girl in front of you, here you were celebrating this festive day.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m gonna melt,” she teased as she closed the menu and gestured for the waiter to take her orders before looking back at you. Gahyeon smiled naughtily as if she had concocted something mischievous inside her head.

She inched closer until there was only a few centimeters between you and her lips which made you instinctively close your eyes.

For a kiss, but you just heard giggling before you—

“Ahh! What was that?” you asked as you opened your eyes only to find the love of your life back at her seat with the same smirk she had earlier. You just caressed your forehead, trying to ease the pain of her attack.

“You looked too cute, I had to tease you.” Her laughs echoed into your ears—a symphony you would never get tired of. Sadly, that soon came to a halt as the waiter came to take the food order. Of course, the order was hers to decide alone, you had given her the privilege to do so on this special occasion.

She opted for a specialty dish, a whole pizza, a side of roasted potatoes, an assorted seafood dish, and pints of beer to keep the cold night warm.

“Yah, that’s too much, we can’t possibly finish all of that,” You said to her to which she replied with a pout, “Aish, you’re not planning on making me finish all of that?”

“Of course! It’s the man of the relationship's job to finish all the food his woman ordered.” Gahyeon pointed out before handing the menu to the waiter. There she goes, a typical girlfriend moves to use gender roles to get what they want.

The food didn’t take too long to arrive. And it also didn’t take any for you two to enjoy the feast in front of you.

“Here try this,” Gahyeon offered you a spoonful of the specialty dish she ordered which you gladly accepted shyly before she herself tried it. Whether she was sweet or she wanted to see how it tasted first, her mixed expression said it was both.

“How was it?” She asked and you just nodded. Gahyeon never was the kind to hide her affection. She didn't even try to hide the relationship from the media. For a while it became a headache for her management, but with time and effort, it all became fine. Now it is an open fact that Gahyeon from Dreamcatcher is dating a non-showbiz man.

“It’s delicious!” Gahyeon blissfully exclaimed after she took a bite. You smiled unknowingly while watching her—it looked like it was worth it to book this restaurant months earlier for this date. She was happy—the way she hummed as she ate was a testament to this.

“Don’t stuff yourself too much or you’ll end up complaining to me later that you gained weight,” you teased her as you too stuffed yourself with the delicious food. She glared at you—never mention gaining weight with someone who controls theirs for their job. An idol needs to always stay in shape after all—their almost impossible-like figures.

“I’m sorry.”

Time passed like that. You two passed bicker on to each other. Talking about all the mundane things. Just there, enjoying the company of each other.

The night has been perfect so far. The cold breeze was countered by the alcohol, delicious food alongside great conservation, and the reincarnation of beauty and kindness, your date Gahyeon has been nothing but lovely(also a teasing master), there was no reason to be unhappy.

“I said to stop staring at me like that.” She looked at you sourly, pretending to be annoyed at you.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t looking at you!” you retorted at her. “I was looking at that last piece of pizza.”

You took it, bit on it, and she looked like hell rose and her soul left her body.

“But, I was gonna take that last piece,” she dejectedly said as she pouted at you.

“Yah! You, we’re breaking up! You stole my pizza.” Gahyeon pointed her fork at you, threatening you with it.

“Come on now, fox, I’m sorry. Here take the piece.” You placed the pizza on her, but she just glared at you.

“But, you already took a bite!” She moved the piece back to your plate but you refused and placed it again on her plate.

“No! This is betrayal! Did you know wars started because of pizza!” Whelp, that was clearly an overreaction. Or maybe not, you made a mental note to search later which historical event she might be referring to.

For the second time, she returned the pizza. And by then you had already noticed other guests from the tables near you looking. Not that it was embarrassing you, but being a cause of distraction to other people was bad.

“Babe, I’m really sorry,” You apologized sincerely. “Look, we can order another pizza if you still want them. We can also take them as a takeout for later.”

“The next time, I promise I’ll ask you, if you want the food before I eat it, okay?” You held out your pinky, and she raised just her eyebrow and crossed her arms as you wiggled the finger in front of her.

“Hmm, k. You better order the same one!” Gahyeon hooked her finger onto yours and stood up. It all happened too fast and before you even knew it, her lips connected to yours, not caring if it was a public display of affection or if she could be photographed by a random fan.

You two had done it more than times you could ever count, but it was still as magical—her soft supple lips landing on yours, staining it with her red lipstick.

“Be ready, I think you’ll be on Dispatch tomorrow,” Gahyeon smirked as she disconnected her finger from yours and snatched the piece of pizza on your plate before she sat again and ate it. You will definitely be on Dispatch tomorrow after that, but this time, it won’t be a controversy but it is to report about Gahyeon’s successful relationship.

As for you, you shyly sat there—red as an apple after that scene straight out of a KDrama.

You shyly gestured for the waiter.

“Can we get the check and then a pizza for takeout,” you said to the waiter as Gahyeon continued to enjoy herself, taking pictures as she ate her food. You took out your phone to capture some photos.

It was such a mundane thing, but it was so beautiful. Her just being there, eating the food you treated her comfortably without any care in the world.

The way she smiles.

The way she munches her food.

It was love when even the most boring things became the most interesting.

There was no worry in this world with you and her in it. It was proving how fruitful your efforts were in this relationship.

You love her and that is all that matters. You wouldn't trade her for anything or anyone. That was what you decided ever since that day.

Soon the waiter came with a box of pizza and the check for the food. You paid for everything and got ready to leave. The night was still young, there were so many things to do, and there was only so much you could do.

Not much time after, Gahyeon found herself walking alongside the beach, and you followed her from behind. The air was cold to feel, the song of the ocean resonated to the ear, her footsteps left prints on the sand beneath, and her dress flew and formed waves like the ocean’s.

It was a sight to behold.

There was just a certain kind of beauty as the moon just shone on her like it was a spotlight, her porcelain skin glowed as if it was reflecting the moon like the water does. The focus was all just for her and everything, even the breathtaking view just became a backdrop to her beauty. It was a picturesque sight that would forever be imprinted on one’s brain.

However, it wasn’t anything special. Rather it was just Gahyeon and your eyes. The eyes that allowed you to see her for who she was. It wasn’t because of her beauty, or her personality, it was Gahyeon as a whole.

What people don’t really understand was that attraction and love are two different things.

Seeing someone and wanting them is attraction.

Seeing someone and wishing to be with them is love.

Of course, attraction is normal among lovers, but there is a fine line between lust, infatuation, and love. To which is what is underneath all that attraction. The normality and comfort of just being in her presence. Gahyeon isn’t the goddess or the idol of everyone. The difference between your love and the love of her fans is that you don’t look up in the sky for her—seeing her in glasses of such absurdity and obscurity.

Gahyeon is there.

She’s always been there up ahead. She’s not up there on a pedestal.

She’s there with you.

And that’s what you call Love.

And that’s when you truly see. It was not the glow of her skin under the moonlight, or the way her pink hair and black dress swayed to the blow of the sea breeze, or the way that sight was like a masterpiece waiting to be captured and kept in an art museum.

It was again only Gahyeon. Gahyeon who was just walking alongside the beach. Gahyeon, who was stuffed with all of the food she ate. Gahyeon, who probably was feeling cold, because one, she wore sleeveless, two she didn’t bring any jacket even though you told her to do so earlier, and three, because it was simply cold during that night.

Gahyeon makes you worry. Gahyeon makes you feel unease. Gahyeon makes you hurt. Gahyeon makes you wanna care. Gahyeon makes you feel alive. Gahyeon makes you cry. Gahyeon makes you laugh.

Gahyeon is Gahyeon.

She took out her phone, pointed it onto the horizon, and soon you felt a vibration inside your pocket.

“The moon looks so beautiful isn't it?” Her message said alongside the picture of the horizon as if you weren't there with her. You smiled as you typed the reply.

“Come on, why are you acting like I’m not even here,” you said as you approached her and nudged her. She giggled and looked at your face for a second before she went back to staring at the horizon. You dropped the pizza that you ordered as takeout at the sand, took off your jacket, and shielded Gahyeon from having a cold later tonight.

“I knew you’d do that. That’s why I didn't bring a jacket. It is a boyfriend thing to do,” she commented and you just giggled in response.

“The moon looks so blue.” There it was up above the skies, shining alone brightly. It must have been lonely. There were no stars above and even if there were, no matter how it seemed like they were close to each other, they were truly drifting away from each other. It was scary.

She held your hand. Tightly as if she was scared you would just disappear through thin air. It was sweaty and cold, but she didn't mind.

“I prefer the red sunset.”

Yes, that red sunset back when we were just teenagers without any care in the world, chasing our dreams, and then and there I knew I only had one dream.

And it was to be with you.

It was funny because I was making fun of how frail you were, and how you wouldn’t be able to run a mile. You wouldn’t be able to reach the beach at the end of the town. Your house was on the other end of the town after all.

But you did, and the first thing you did was send me a photo of that beautiful red sunset.

t was so beautiful.

It made me happy.

You were amazing and it was beautiful.

I could imagine how you were frowning when I replied and said how pretty it was.

I mean, you sent it to me to show how amazing you were right?

It made me so happy so I took my bike and pedaled all the way to you.

You were so funny. I caught you complaining.

“Not that! I want her to know how awesome it is that I ran here!” You exclaimed.

“Oh, you didn’t want to show me the sunset?” You didn’t even notice that I was behind you.

“That’s right… not the sunset…” That was when you realized, and looked back before jumping out of shock.

“Gah, what are you doing here?” You asked me.

“Talking to you last time made me want to see the sunset.” That is what I answered, but the truth is…

I wanted to see you. I even brought you a bottle of water. You drank as we sat on the sand.

“I’m so happy,”—I expressed— “you ran all the way here to send me a picture of that beautiful sunset.”

“It’s not like that…” you denied but you were blushing. You continued mumbling, trying to come up with an excuse. You were so cute, you didn’t know what to do and you couldn’t even understand what you were feeling.

I called out your name. You were so rattled.

“It’s so red, isn’t it?”

“Red? Am I blushing?”

But I just said…

“It’s a beautiful red sunset. So pretty…”

“The sunset? It sure is. It’s red, isn’t it.”

“Well, it’s not as red as you.” I couldn’t really help but tease you. Your reactions were so cute.

But really… I was so glad.

I could watch that beautiful sunset with you.

Those were the days.

That was also the day, I realized… It wasn’t a crush.

I love you.

“Red sunset?” Your question brought back Gahyeon from her trance.

“Yes, I wanna see it again,” Gahyeon said as she continued to watch to the horizon while you watched her.

“Is this that beautiful?” You asked her.

“Yes, it was so beautiful,” Gahyeon answered. She turned to look at you and locked eyes.

“Yes, beautiful.” She giggled.

“Take me to the beach again soon,” Gahyeon asked full of expectations.

“Why?” You asked but you already made a mental note to plan another beach trip. Maybe this time back in yours and Gahyeon’s hometown. You remember visiting alone the last time you drove her to see her parents, and it was beautiful. Maybe you two could eat some crabs and other seafood.

Gahyeon loves seafood a lot after all.

“I wanna see a nice red sunset again. Also, I really want to catch some crabs.” Gahyeon said and rubbed her stomach. Is she a mind reader? Or was she just thinking about using her stomach? Either way, it made you laugh a little. You expected her to say something about food.

“Then, we should go earlier than today so that we catch some crabs while we wait for the sun to set.” It’s been decided. You don’t when, but you knew it was gonna happen, maybe when Gahyeon’s schedule loosened up again.

“I wonder how many I can catch.” She said after you ruffled her pink hair. Gahyeon retaliated, trying hard for you not to ruin her hair that she had so much time to perfect just for your anniversary date. When she finally was able to stop you, she glared at you and pouted cutely.

“You won’t be able to and you’ll make me catch them instead.” You just laughed as you tried to fix her again. You know her too much. Gahyeon would say that it’s a boyfriend thing to do to catch crabs for her girlfriend and cook them—she would leverage her girlfriend card again.

“That’s rude, I can do it too.” She slapped your hand and fixed her hair herself. Of course, her slap didn’t use too much force. Gahyeon is sulky girlfriend but she doesn’t want to cause you harm.

“I didn’t say, you can’t. I’m saying you’ll be too scared to do so.” She threw punches. Again they were not hurtful, but she was throwing a real tantrum and if you don’t calm her, she will sulk for the rest of the date.

“Come, sit here.” You held her hand and pulled her to sit on the sand near where you put down the takeout food from earlier.

“Open the pizza. I’m hungry.” She ordered to which to gladly followed. As soon as the box revealed the food, her eyes widened. Gahyeon, who was almost drooling turned her mood upside down because of the luscious pizza in front of her. She couldn’t restrain herself, as she excitedly hummed before she went for a piece and ate it.

“You’ll get fat,” You commented and she nudged you while her mouth was still stuffed.

“You’ll exercise with me, don’t worry,” Gahyeon retorted and you just laughed as you too took a piece.

The box of pizza was emptied as the night went on. Conservation under the moon went by faster than normal and that’s okay. As long as it was with her, time spent was time spent well.

Soon she decided that the cold ocean breeze was not doing it for her anymore and opted you two to leave the beach. Hand-in-hand you two went back to your accommodation for the night—a hotel near the beach and the restaurant.

The hotel room was nice. It wasn’t anything special like what most fans would thought idols were always staying in. It was a small suite with a single bed, kitchen, bath, and a balcony that overlooks the ocean. It was nice and not over the top. Gahyeon loved it. As soon as she entered the room, flopped and bounced on the bed, playing as if she still had so much energy to burn.

“Come on, our anniversary night is still not over!” Gahyeon had her arms open wide, tempting you to jump on her arms. It wasn’t an offer anyone could refuse. A woman as cute and attractive as she flopped her arms open wide on top of a fortress of pillows and mattress, there was no way you would pass on that.

It was a long night that you wish wouldn’t end.

You didn’t waste any more time to accept her offer as soon you were engulfed by her arms. You were on top of her, pressing onto her as she caressed the back of your head. Gahyeon smelled nice. Gahyeon always smells nice. Her smell made you feel relaxed, and her hug was comfortable. She gently ghosted her hand back and forth of your hair as she hummed your favorite song.

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It felt like a baby being held and hummed to sleep. It felt like heaven. It felt like home. It felt like the right place. And that place was inside her nestling hug. Gahyeon cuddled you, and you nestled back. Her voice was angelic. It was a known fact, but hearing her voice almost whispering the melodies of love, was the greatest fan service only available to you.

Your phone vibrated a few times, but you ignored it as you focused only on her and her alone. Relish the moment while it lasts. Take advantage of each second before it passes. For God JiU’s sake, it was your anniversary and nothing is more important than Gahyeon and you—it was probably just some work problem needing of solution anyway, they could at least handle it for one night.

Before you even knew it, Gahyeon finished her song.

“Thank you for putting up with me.” She whispered.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m your boyfriend.” You answered back.

“Do you lo—”

“I love you,” you cut her before she could the question to allow her to hear the words. However, she didn’t do so after all.

“I love you too,” Gahyeon whispered before she pushed you off her and got off the bed with a mischievous smile.

“You’ll suffocate and squish me if we stay this way for long,”—Gahyeon pointed at you—“Special cuddling fanservice session is finished.”

This time you were the one to pout at her.

“No fair, I wanna cuddle more,” You complained.

“Take care of that constant vibration on your phone first while I take quick shower.” Gahyeon winked, “We’ll do something special when you come back.”

In the blink of an eye, Gahyeon disappears to the bathroom after insinuating something naughty for later. You were left in a daze for a few seconds, imagining what she meant by her words. You were only able to break the trance after a vibration.

You finally opened your phone only to be shocked by what was on the screen which made your smile turned upside down.

You quickly went down to the hotel lobby, where the message on your phone led you to find her.

“I just came back from a long hiatus and you’ll greet me with that face?” She pointed out your conflicted expression.

“Noona… why are you here?” She approached for a hug, but you were quick to step back and draw a line between the two of you.

It was SuA who you didn’t hear so much after months of cutting the connection from all of you—or at least from you. You were reluctant to talk to her.

“Why are you giving me the cold shoulders?” SuA teased as she once again approached step-by-step and you backed down for each step she took.

“Noona, stop this… what are you doing.” But she didn’t listen and forcefully tried to take your hand. Of course, you had more strength than her but being forceful to someone you cared about was hard.

“I’m taking you with me,” SuA declared as she tried to pull you, but you just didn’t let her as she pleased.

“Noona, I’m not going with you. Where? Where were you even? Where are you trying to take me?!” You lashed out at her. Thankfully, no one was around to see the scene. The older one just stared at you annoyed that you didn’t listen to her.

That standoff took a few seconds before you turned your back to walk away. You were finished with her. You were not doing this. Atleast, not on your anniversary night. You were not going to get swayed by her.

“Didn’t you say that you love me?”—her words stopped your steps—“Prove it to me now, ran away with me.”

Turn back. Look at her. Hear her cries.

“I love you.” Beads of tears slowly fell down her gorgeous face.

“Please, say it.

I wanna hear it again.

Say that you love me.

Choose me.”

It was painful, watching her cry fully knowing that you were the reason.

“I love Gahyeon.” Three words. One sentence. One name that wasn’t her.

It was short but meaningful. You didn’t regret. You were straight. You didn’t apologize for either hurting her or not choosing her. You said it. And that broke SuA.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.” Those were the words that escaped SuA's mouth as she realized it was too late and where it all went wrong for her—where she lost. You helped her. She looked so frail. What did she even do all this time?

“Noona…” SuA wiped her tears and quickly composed herself.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” SuA faked a smile and you returned it to her with a caring one.

“I’ll be off your back, don’t worry,” SuA said as she tried to walk away. You stopped her. You held her hand, but just like what you did earlier.

“Where are you going?” You asked her worriedly.

“Don’t worry, I already told Minji-yah that I’ll be coming back. I ain’t going nowhere,” She explained as she walked away.

“Let’s catch up soon.”

She looked back.

She smiled bittersweetly.

“Tell me, when did you realize that you love her?” Those were her last words before she walked away and left you speechless. However, maybe it wasn’t really what she wanted to ask, but rather the words were…

“When did you realize you didn’t really love me?”

It didn’t take long before SuA was no longer in sight. And her words are still stuck in your head. When? When did you really realize it?

Take out your phone. Stare at the picture of the woman on your wallpaper, Gahyeon.

When did I realize I love you?

That’s a really funny question.

But really.

It was maybe sometime after we officially started dating.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure yet. I knew I loved Bora-unnie or so I thought I loved her. I wasn’t sure. I was confused at that time. But I did my best to make you happy.

To try to make it with you.

I said I love you. We kissed already. We even had sex already at that time. I’m cruel aren’t I? I’ll probably go to hell for being a liar.

I knew I didn't love you yet. I felt disgusted with myself. You were like a sister to me after all. And I was lying and taking advantage of your feelings for me.

But…

Love is a Lie.

I said and I knew it was a lie.

But I wished, for one day… I’ll be able to truly tell you without any lies. To be able to kiss you out of love. To be able to be one with you. To want you as much as you wanted me.

To love you more than you love me.

One day…

It happened.

It wasn’t like I expected it to be.

It was a normal day. It wasn’t anything special.

I just woke up and that was when I realized…

I love you, Gahyeon.

When I saw your face the moment I opened my eyes. You were far from your beautiful self in front of the camera. You were ugly. Your hair was like a broom. You were snoring. Your breath stinks. You were eating your hair and you had dried drool on the sides of your lips.

You were ugly, Gahyeon.

It made me laugh. Although, I wasn’t any better. I was just fortunate enough to wake up earlier than you. I had time to fix myself before I got called ugly by you.

But I didn't…

I went for the kiss on your drool-painted lips. Mine wasn’t any different.

But this time it was different.

I kissed you because I love you.

I love you.

Not anyone else.

How could I be so blind when you were here all along?

I kissed you again and it felt so right.

But I accidentally woke you up.

You were smiling. That was the brightest smile I've ever seen in my life. You giggled as the sun funneling through the window illuminated you.

“Your breath stinks,” you teased.

“Please, brush your teeth then come back and kiss me,” you added.

It was funny. Yours stinks too! I didn't mind it at all, and I bet you didn't mind mine too.

That morning was a drop of dew. And I just watched you with love. The way you walked around with your disheveled hair and just my shirt on. You didn't care at all. Why would you? It's just me, the man you love.

You were so lazy that I had to brush your teeth and tie up your hair. If only your fans could see you, I wonder how they would react?

You're a slowpoke, Gahyeon. I couldn't blame you though, with a schedule as busy as yours. I would use any free time to laze around.

“When will breakfast be ready?!” You exclaimed from the bathroom while I was in the kitchen. You always cared about food.

“In a few minutes, take your time with your routine!” You were sleepy and lazy but you were always so diligent. You never skip on anything. You always took care of yourself. Although, most of the time, I still had to take care of you.

Maybe, that's my job.

“Gah! Breakfast is ready!” When breakfast was finally ready, you sprinted to the dining table. You were suddenly but then became sheepish. You took most bites with your eyes closed.

From then I took a mental note to prepare something that would help you sleep better every night before bed.

You took each bite excitedly but still sheepishly. You hummed as you ate. You always hum when you eat. It has always been an indicator that you were eating something delicious.

“This sucks. Do you want to take cooking lessons?” That was what you right after when you literally handed your plate for a second serving.

I gladly gave it to you. Do you remember?

That morning was so bright, comfortable, and was fleeting. Before I knew it, you were going to leave for practice and I was going to work.

However, I wasn’t sad because we were parting for the day, rather, I was already expecting the bliss that I would have when I finally met in the night.

It was such a peculiar thing, but I knew right then and there when I saw your back passing through my apartment door…

I love you.

“I should go back to Gahyeon,” You muttered to yourself as you made your way back to your hotel room, but unbeknownst to you, you would find an empty room. You wondered where she was. Did she meet SuA? Or did she somewhere else?

You were worried. You tried to text her and also tried to ask the hotel staff if they saw a pink-haired girl roaming. You might have taken too long because of SuA and she went out to look for you.

That was when you received a reply from Gahyeon.

“Wait for me.” That was what her text message said.

Where were you Gahyeon?

“Unnie,” Gahyeon called who was waiting at the other end of the hallway for SuA. The older stopped and looked at the younger. Did she he—

“I saw and heard everything.” For the first Gahyeon admitted that she was there or that she was listening. She always kept to herself and was always patient whenever something like this happened, but tonight Gahyeon decided differently.

“Not gonna welcome your unnie back? I just came back from a long hiatus,” SuA commented as they faced each other. Two women, who love the same men, but while the other succeeds, the other fails.

“Well, I would be happy to welcome you with a hug and a kiss but you just tried to steal my boyfriend,” Gahyeon answered with an annoyed tone.

“I didn’t try to steal him,” SuA corrected as she approached Gahyeon step-by-step. The younger stepped backward every time the older closed in up until she couldn’t, hitting the wall behind her. SuA was so closed, uncomfortably closed for Gahyeon, but she didn’t backed down.

“He’s mine to begin with,”—No one dared to break eye contact—“He loves m—”

“He loved you, Bora,” Gahyeon cut. She said so sternly and clearly, even opting not to use any honorifics. SuA bit her lip in response to what Gahyeon said. She knew deep down it was true. She just couldn’t accept it.

“He loved you,”—Gahyeon reiterated before SuA could even retort—“What? Cat’s got your tongue? It’s true is it not?”

Gahyeon had put SuA in her place or rather, she had put her back in her place. It was harsh, but SuA was reckless. She came out of nowhere and tried to hijack their anniversary night. It was almost as if SuA went there and just hoped for the best and trusted the little hope she had. Gahyeon, on the other hand, didn’t think twice to defend her place.

“I shouldn’t have pitied y—” SuA said before biting her lip as she instantly regretted what she had said, but it was too late. Gahyeon after hearing what SuA said, had a hammer punched in her stomach. She wasn’t expecting SuA to at least not say those words. Or at least for SuA not to feel that way. Gahyeon knew her and you happened partly because SuA felt bad about her, but for it to be said in her face…

Something inside of them broke, and a bottomless pit sunk inside of their hearts.

“I don’t know you anymore.” Gahyeon pushed her, and SuA fell to the ground. She didn’t mean to push her down to the ground, just enough to put distance between the two of them. Her heart ached. Gahyeon was worried as she looked down on her as the older looked away in shame.

“Please don’t call me or him. I don’t care about our jobs. Please, I’ll find a way. Just leave.” Gahyeon walked away and SuA could only watch her as tears once again flowed out of her eyes. She knew she had not only lost you, but now she lost Gahyeon.

Gahyeon wasn’t any better, she cried and wept as she took heavy steps fully knowing she had just cut off one of the most important people in her life. They both didn’t want for things to end up like this, but emotions cascaded like a waterfall and there was no way of stopping this. There was no way it could have ended with all parties happy—it was simply impossible.

Love takes.

Love is painful.

Love comes with a price.

Gahyeon clearly remembered. She didn’t want things to end up this way. She tried. A scenario where no one was hurt, but in the end… all of you ended up hurting. It was foolish to hope. Gahyeon wiped her tears and found somewhere to sit. She closed her eyes.

“Gahyeonie, wake up.” I opened my eyes and my eyes met with daggers of light before I saw her—the face of the person I was most jealous of. SuA, who was asleep beside me. SuA who made love with me and my boyfriend.

“Swa, good morning,” I greeted, still half-asleep.

“Good morning, Baby.” She caressed my face. Her eyes… They looked so sad. She looked like she was in pain, but she smiled.

“What's wrong, Unnie? I asked worriedly. Although, once again I knew… I knew but I couldn't do anything. Or I wouldn't do anything. I would die if I were to give back what she gave me.

‘Gahyeonie, do you love him?” SuA said, almost choking on her words.

“Yes, I love him so much. I have loved him for so long.” Those were my words. Those were also the words that drove you like this.

I'm sorry for being selfish.

“Unnie, do you love him?” I asked her once again. The same question from the night before.

“I do,” She confessed, and tears started to flow down her cheeks, staining her pretty face. She confessed… it came straight from her mouth. Her true feelings.

“But I love you more.” Those words… I didn't even know how to react. It was so sincere.

I wiped her tears, but I was crying too. Everything was a mess, and honestly, I was surprised how you slept through all of it.

When you woke up, it was as if nothing happened. We had a pleasant breakfast but the atmosphere was so awkward.

But I didn't expect it. That was the last I would see SuA for a long time. She just left. If I knew I would have hugged her. But I only found out later on from JiU-unnie that she left the country and went on a sudden hiatus.

If I knew…

I should have known at that moment.

It was goodbye.

That is until now.

Gahyeon opened her eyes. She had calmed down. She stopped crying. She knew she had to return to your suite. You were waiting for her, but she knew you would notice her puffy eyes.

That she cried a lot.

“So much for an anniversary night,” Gahyeon muttered as she stood up to head to a comfort room before going back to the suite where you were waiting.

Soon, Gahyeon stood in front of the door. Nervous about how she would explain what happened or how to open up about the topic or how to even talk about it. She wasn't ready, but she knew you would ask.

“Please, don’t ask.” She grabbed the doorknob and turned it. As the door swung, she found you, and couldn’t help but smile as she found you pacing back and forth, worried about her.

“Gahyeon!” You exclaimed. You saw her and ran up to her—finally relieved that Gahyeon had come back.

Before she could even react, she was engulfed by your arms in a bear hug. Her arms enveloped back as yours tightened. Hearts were booming. You could feel it, she could feel it, every fast-paced beat booming as your hearts connected.

Gahyeon had let go. She just let it happen. She didn’t speak, she just nestled into the comfort and protection of your hug. It was her home. It was warm yet something cold on your chest countered it. It was your shirt wetted by the diamonds dripping down her beautiful face. You caressed her back, trying to lull the crying girl as Gahyeon buried her face against your chest.

“It’s okay.” Gahyeon clenched her teeth and fists, took a handful of the backside of your shirt, and bit on the fabric her mouth was able to reach. She just kept crying without uttering a word. She just released what she was holding back inside of her.

It broke your heart seeing her like this. You couldn’t do anything but caress her back and hope that it was enough to ease her pain. Several minutes passed and she wasn’t calming down. You kissed her forehead and she looked up to you.

“Do you love me?” Gahyeon asked, her eyes pleading for reassurance as they continuously stained her face with tears. You kissed her once again, but this time it wasn’t your lips and her forehead, it was her lips and yours colliding softly for a peck. She smiled brightly. You haven’t even said the words she wanted to hear, but her eyes already lit up as if she knew it was coming.

“I love you.” The words were finally uttered and it was all that was needed for Ghayeon to wrap her arms around your neck. Pull in. Let go. Hug it. Before you even knew it, your lips collided with hers once again. Close your eyes. She captured your lips and pulled you into a longing hungry kiss. Knots were tied, and two soft marshmallow muscles clashed, moving with the rhythm of her hunger.

She was a blackhole longing for love. It was scary how a woman in pain like her craved love like this. It wasn’t a sweep inside your mouth as she playfully tickled the underside of your tongue while exploring the depths only she could reach.

Gahyeon pulled out, caught her breath, and chased once again as she lured you. She started sucking on your tongue, and you gladly let her without any resistance. She pulled and sucked. She circled her tongue around yours.

Seconds passed by and the endless exchange between lips didn’t end. Seconds became minutes, and tears already stopped flowing, but the fervent kiss didn’t end there. It started with a peck and it ended up in a torrid kiss. Eyes closed and lips glued to each other. Her arms traveled around your neck while yours gently caressed her hair.

She pulled out and a string of saliva bridged the two of you. Her eyes still brimming with hunger as yours locked with her lovingly. She wanted more and you would gladly give anything for her.

“Do you love me?” Gahyeon asked once again. This time you were the one to capture her lips and Gahyeon couldn’t help but smile while her lips were still connected to yours. Glide from her back to her lower hips as Gahyeon cupped your cheeks as she continued devouring you.

In one swoop motion, you lifted her off the ground, resulting in a momentary disconnection between the two of you. That didn’t matter though as she was quick to clash lips once again while you tried to excruciatingly navigate around the suite to get into the bedroom almost blindly.

You had hit several corners. Topped down appliances and broke a few glasses before you found a counter to sit Gahyeon on. It wasn't the destination, but you soon would get there but for now.

She was laughing and smiling, you were in a crazy haze. You pulled back. Eyes locked as the playful hands grabbed onto the ends of her black dress. You didn't waste any moment as her porcelain skin revealed itself as you peeled that dress off her—from the tips of her toes, her luscious legs, toned stomach, and torso. A momentary break of eye contact as the garment blocked your sight of her.

Look up and down. Magnificence exuded as inch and every corner of her felt it was sculpted by a higher being itself. Her porcelain skin felt like clouds on your palm, and the way her body subtlety reacted… each touch shivers, each touch was electrifying.

Gahyeon wasn't one to just be the one almost on her birthday with only her matching black lingerie. She pulled you by the hand, grabbed your shirt, and didn't waste any moment to remove it. She ogled at you—it was a sight for her—it was the prize that was for hers alone.

“You’re mine,” Gahyeon said, asserting her ownership over you as she bit her lips, almost drolling while eyeing you. She didn't waste any more time as she pulled even closer for another make-out session—this time more athirst. Each feathery touch made her more hungry, intoxicated, and addicted. Kisses were her morphine—each one made her forget the pain and put her on a high.

“I’m yours.” You broke the kiss. You traveled from her lips to her left ear as you engulfed her for a hug. She wrapped her leg around your hips. The distance was small. It didn’t allow any wild movement, but that was okay, being able to see her gorgeous face up close was more than enough. This time she was smiling. You had only seen it through your peripheral vision, but her lips, her eyes, they both were happy.

“Shut up, carry me to the bed, and fuck me,” Gahyeon ordered. Giggles left your mouth as you gently carried her off the countertop table. She hugged you and nestled on your shoulders. She rested and relished once again taking advantage of the comfort of your warmth.

Soon you laid her down on the bed. While you caught your breath, you took a moment to once again look at the art in front of you. She wasn’t crying. Gahyeon was happy. She was anticipating. She was like a kid waiting for her request to be granted. You could stare at her all day, but her order, you needed it as much as she did.

You smirked at her as you unbuckled your pants and stripped down to your birthday suit. She smirked back and taunted you with her body. She didn’t have any intention to remove her lingerie. She wanted you to do it. Although fucking her with that sexy lingerie still on was still also an option, you wanted her to be as bare as you were—completely naked and vulnerable.

“Why are you so lazy?” You grabbed the hem of her black thong and tried to peel it off her. It was stubborn, and her ass held on to it. You lifted that peach ass of hers that she spent so much time in the gym to achieve for a moment just to get it off, began to slowly remove it off her lips, making its way down her smooth and slender porcelain legs, and revealed a treasure, her smooth, glistening pink lips.

You wanted a taste. You wanted to tease her. So you dove right into the treat in front of you. You started with kisses up and down her inner thighs, gaining soft moans while your lips repeatedly contacted her warm skin. You planted wet kisses on her thighs again, but this time dangerously near her wet folds.

“Just do it already.” Gahyeon was already squirming. She wanted it, and a lick down her thighs, staining her pristine thighs with long licks garnered even more moans. You giggled mischievously while she was getting more and more impatient, but before she could complain once again, the first lick came in, tracing her pink slit—one long sweet taste of her wet folds.

Teasing her might have backfired as she grabbed onto your head, and pushed you in her legs forcibly, forcing you to continue eating her. You didn’t have any choice, buried in her crotch, you accepted your fate, and her delicious pussy. Explore every corner. Reach the deepest depths. You dove in to find out how deep your tongue could reach inside her. You basked and inhaled the aroma of her pussy. You didn’t let any of her juices pass your mouth. And Gahyeon took it all in, receiving all of it, moaning and expressing how pleasurable it was all.

You let your hot breath blow against her crotch, and she whined in response. Quickly, you went in with an up-and-down motion deep inside using your tongue. She cussed, she moaned, and she quivered as you continued eating her out.

“More!” She exclaimed as if that was the cue, you put pressure on her clit. You swirled around it, gaining louder and more high-pitched moans as you ran circular patterns on it. Push and swirl. You gently pushed it with your tongue, then took it in your mouth and sucked on her clit.

Her legs squished, and her nails dug in deeper and deeper as every second passed by. She pushed you deeper in hopes that your tongue would reach deeper inside her slits. It was getting harder to breathe as minutes went by. Your head was going numb from the pain from her nails digging. Her wet pussy almost drowned you. Buried against her crotch, all you could do was go crazy, trying to taste and service her as much as you can, sucking her wet and delicious pussy as you turned Gahyeon into a squirming mess.

The only option was to tap out. You forcibly disengaged, simultaneously edging her. It wasn’t time for her to reach her climax, and it wasn’t time yet for a death by thighs head locking you. You licked your lips and caught your breath. You smirked fully knowing what you did as you tenderly caressed her thighs while she pouted.

“What are you looking at?” You teasingly snarked at her, and she glared at you before you got on top of her. You weren’t one to keep her waiting when you just edged her. And just like any other time before and now, you lined the tip of your cock up against the opening of her entrance and captured her lips for a kiss as you pushed—slowly and caringly, entering her inch by inch smoothly inside of her already soaking wet quim.

Gahyeon hugged every bit of your cock. She was perfectly wet and perfectly tight every time, and it was always cute how she was also perfectly cute, innocent, and sexy at the same time. Sex with her had always been a mix of comfort and excitement. With Gahyeon you wouldn’t call it sex, it was the ever-cliched lovemaking.

You started fucking her, slowly, sensually, and carefully. It was different from how you teased her and edged. You pressed bodies, allowing each other to relish the warmth of each other. You let her feel you gravitating against her. Gahyeon had your weight on top of her and she had always loved it. It felt like the sun, warm on the skin, but it didn't burn. Sweaty and almost smelly but it felt cold and fresh to be so close to her. Again and again, like clockwork, you slowly pull your member out from her, but as soon as your tip peeked out of her, you bury yourself deep inside her, causing a melody of her pleasure getting fill up.

“I love you,” she uttered in between her moans.

Again, pull, and push.

“I love you too.”

Now that you had built a slow and steady rhythm, you gradually upped the pace. Faster but not so sudden. The goal was to induce pleasure and not pain, pushing in but within the comfort of your lover just as she loved as both of you became moaning messes—quick huffed breaths—sounds of sex only the two of you know of. The smell of sex, sweat, and saliva lingered in the air. Moans, squelching noises, profanities, proclamations of love, and chased breaths, roared inside that hotel room, accompanied by the warmth of each other.

You started pounding her, faster and more vigorously than before. Full of vigor but full of control. A little bit rough but Gahyeon wrapped her leg around your lips nonetheless, she wouldn’t want you breaking off her while you thrust and looked at her with the desire to pleasure her. Her eyes shut close and she became louder, screaming at the pleasure of your cock.

For Gahyeon this kind of physical intimacy was a form of assurance to ease her fear. Gahyeon feels your love the most when you two are connected. Sex is the highest form of love. Sex is the greatest expression of it. The heat she was relishing, the roughness, the gentleness, the pain, and the pleasure were evidence of love.

It was a treasure how your palm caressed her cheek underneath all that mess. After all, she was a mess and you were a mess, but there was this certain kind of beauty and order amidst all of that and only you two knew of it—only your love knew of it.

There was no time for rest as you as that climax was coming. She didn’t want you to stop fucking, and you didn’t want to either. You fucked her hard and fast. It was a high that you knew too much of. A drug that was only available for you. A medicine that heals Gahyeon and you, but keeps you addicted. It was a contradiction, amidst all that high and intoxication, being lost in the trance of pleasure, you didn’t get lost and chased the pleasure for you alone. You chased her pleasure, and she chased your pleasure, aiming to please each other.

You found her breast, still clothed in her black brassiere. You squeezed and she whined in response and quickly tried to get rid of it, reaching for her straps and setting them aside before flipping them to expose her bountiful mounds. You dove right onto it, took her hardened nippled, and suck on it while massaging the other breast. It was softer than marshmallows, it was like you were kissed by a cloud.

However, you didn’t forget fucking her, you thrust as you sucked like a baby on Gahyeon’s breast. All Gahyeon could do was to receive all of it, and hug your head, hoping it would help you eat her better.

It was time to give attention to the unattended boob. You removed yourself from her boob and left red marks all over her breasts, and a lingering feeling of stretch on her nipple, saliva all over it. You did the same to the other boob, suckles, bites, kisses, peck, smack, smooch, and snog, all the things you could to do to make her release those lovely sounds and to compel her to hug you more tightly and to enable yourself to feel her warmth more, get buried on her breast more.

Although you couldn’t give her boob as much attention at the one as she pulled you up for a momentary rest. You made eye contact with you and chased your breath. Get pulled by her brown orbs. The tips of her lips raised, showcasing her iconic fox smile. Her eyes were as dazed as yours, but she still gazed at you lovingly before uttering the words, “Kiss me.”

“I love you, Lee Gahyeon.” You gladly complied and dove right into kissing her. Gahyeon cupped your cheeks. It was an amorous kiss you shared. A kiss to last a lifetime. One of too many. Certainly not the last but you kissed her as if it was the last. It was as sweet as the first though. You slowed down your pace to allow yourself to relish it more, the way your cock stirred her insides, the it twitches after hitting her deepest parts every time, the way it filled her, the way her lips connect to yours, the way you fuck her while you two shared a loving kiss, and the way she loves you.

Soon a knot in your loins introduced itself to you. What she was chasing for you eventually came and without breaking the kiss of the movement of your hips. You felt a built-up in your groins as her quim clenched, and tightened around your cock. It was time for her too. She tightened her hug, nails dug into your back as you slammed deep inside and pulled her out again and again until you could no longer hold it another.

One last time for the last run, putting in all of your remaining stamina. You fucked like you had every intention to impregnate her. Both of you groan in great pleasure as you let loose to release wave after wave of your thick semen deep inside her while quivered, shut her eyes, bit your lips, and bucked her hips as her orgasm collided with you. An instant climax, and delight, with her plugged pussy leaking out juices that were mixed with her fluids yours. Her orgasm was strong as all of that built up in her stomach released a wave of ecstasy.

The high felt like forever. The satisfaction was great. Both climaxes subsided and you felt your flaccid member slipping out of her, and her pussy finally unplugged, leaked out your cum. After a few seconds of being frozen in place, Gahyeon released your lip and you let out a sigh of relief before licking the blood off your lip. You collapsed beside her and she turned to face you and hugged you as she tried to recover from the hot session herself.

“I love you too.” Gahyeon gave you a peck, resulting in you blushing. Out of embarrassment you turned your back on her, stood up to get tissues and that thing, and hid it underneath the box of tissues. You went back to the bed and helped her wipe herself and lean off the leaking semen in between her legs. She was smiling mischievously as you wiped her as if she was planning to tease you.

“Why are you acting shy? You’re wiping as if that’s not your cum and you didn’t just eat my pussy.” Her words made you choke and she just laughed heartily. Gahyeon was back to her usual self—cheerful and teasing master.

“I’m not, I’m just thinking about how much I love you.”

You reasoned out. It was far from what she said, but it was the truth. Looking back to all that happened, you couldn’t help but just be happy and relief that you ended up this way. It might be just a hunch but it felt like things would finally get better from here on. It was a little bit chaotic but you finally settled it with SuA. You didn’t choose Gahyeon instead of SuA. You just love Gahyeon and there wasn’t even a competition. What happened with SuA and your feelings for her won’t be forgotten, but it was a lesson. A lesson you would take as you journey with Gahyeon.

Gahyeon is love.

“Why do you have to think about that when you just have to show me?” Gahyeon gazed at you. Her eyes were full of expectation. She was looking far ahead. Looking at the things you two will do from now on. You were looking forward to it too. Gahyeon is the loveliest girl and she isn’t one to hide her love. You just hope to be more like her, and be more confident of your love for her.

“Yes, I’ll do that from now on,” You answered her. You took her hand and smiled at her lovingly. Love was truly bare. Your feelings were as bare as your naked bodies as both of you wore your hearts out. And looking at her, you knew it was time.

You took her left hand and kissed it. Gahyeon just smiled, not suspicious of anything as you reached for the ring you had hidden earlier. Gahyeon just watched. Her eyes showed a hint of confusion. You just continued smiling. Although, maybe there was a hint of nervousness and awkwardness.

“Gahyeon…” You call for her before kissing your fist, still not revealing the ring you had inside it. At this point, Gahyeon already had an idea of what was happening. Tears formed in her eyes with the anticipation of it. And she was right as you revealed the ring. Her mouth kept agape, surprised, and couldn’t believe what was about to happen. Gahyeon’s puppy eyes were both in shock and filled with bliss.

It felt like your heart was about to burst out of nervousness. Will she say yes? Will she decline? Those questions played in your head on repeat as you held the ring tightly. It was an expensive ring or anything that could put a hole in your pockets, but it was something more important. The heirloom ring from your mother. An old piece of gold jewelry with a humble diamond.

“Will you marry me?” You finally asked her and beads of clear crystal started flowing down her beautiful face. You let of her hand and wipe them off.

“Stop crying will you?” You said to her but you started crying also. With the ring, you imagined dreams of seeing her in that white dress, walking down the aisle while you wait for her at the altar. You’ll spend time off for a vacation, a honeymoon on the beachside—you know how much Gahyeon loves the beach. Maybe even starting your own family.

Fingers fidget, and hearts boomed. Time slowed down at that moment in that hotel room. You panicked and weren’t sure if you would wipe her tears first or wipe yours first, but you opted for a third option. You took her left hand once again, and carefully put the ring on her finger.

“Yes, I will marry you!” Gahyeon didn’t stop crying, but she didn’t seem sad at all. The smile painted all over her face said it all, and seeing that made you feel warm inside. It was burning, but it didn’t hurt at all. Neither of you stopped crying but it was okay.

It was a beautiful moment to share. She hugged you tightly, and you reciprocated until you found yourself sharing a kiss. A lovely kiss. Then once again locked eyes, gazing at each other, ever smiling and happy.

Her smile was beautiful. Her happiness was the most beautiful thing to exist. And you’ll do anything to protect that.

Yes, just like that day.

That one cold winter night.

We were out late because of a schoolwork project. The other kids had already gone home and were the only ones to go in the same direction so we walked together. Well, I wouldn’t let a girl walk home that late at night.

We were walking and at that time, we weren’t particularly close or friends yet.

But we ended up talking.

You talked about your dreams. And I talked about mine.

It was just fun.

And maybe,

That was when I started developing something for you.

Well, I realized too late that it was love.

But maybe at that moment, I fell in love with you unknowingly.

All of you were just too beautiful.

The moon bore witness to it.

Your laughs.

Your smile.

Your eyes.

Your dream.

Your everything.

That was when Jasmines bloomed in winter.

Aletheia & Etterath

*Series End*

***

A/N - idk did I do something? i think it's bad HAHAHAH

#reader insert #panchatea #kofi commission #kpop smut #readerinsert #dreamcatcher smut #dreamcatcher #gahyeon x reader #sua x reader #Youtube

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 22 hours

Note

Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else.

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places.

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize.

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in.

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to.

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods.

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own.

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly, and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things -

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s?

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous?

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions.

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself.

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic.

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side.

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?”

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary.

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know?

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.”

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.”

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?”

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.”

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad.

“I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper.

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew.

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip.

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?”

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face.

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?”

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x self insert

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colormepurplex2 · 21 hours

Text

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, rejected/unwanted drunken kissing that could be viewed as dubious 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

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cupofjeon · 2 days

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Lion’s Den (Preview)

↳ Summary: You should have seen the warning signs. It’s been there since the day Jungkook started showing his more than friends affection towards you. Hindsight is, indeed, twenty-twenty, and now you’re reaping the false belief you sowed about the man you once loved. By the time your rose-colored glasses shattered, it was too late. You’ve already entered the lion’s den.

↳ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer!Fem!Reader

↳ Genre: Yandere | ↳ Type of fic: Oneshot

↳ Disclaimer: The story below the cut is fictitious only. It does not depict Jungkook or any of the other idols mentioned and featured in this story in real life. The author does not condone this type of behavior. Minors do not interact with this story. Ageless blogs will be blocked on the presumption that you are underaged.

↳ Warnings: Blackmailing, threats, noncon, slapping, marking, hair pulling, manipulation, forced marriage, control over women’s reproductive health, physical assault, violence, abusive behavior and relationship.

↳ Teaser Word Count: 782 | ↳ Release Date: Within the month

↳ Taglist: Open (To be added, you must have age in your bio or anywhere in your blog that is easily seen. Otherwise, you will not be tagged and will be blocked.) Please comment below or send author an ask off anon.

━━ “Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is.”

You look at the time on your computer, 12:17 am. You haven’t even realized it’s past midnight already. Jungkook slides the box towards you then flicks the can of soft drink on the side, a trick he swore would make the drink less carbonated, before opening it and placing it beside the dish. How can he act so sweet one minute and then be cruel the next? You take the chopstick from his hand, pulling them apart, and shift on your seat as you begin to eat.

“What are you working on?” he asks as he prepares his own meal.

You chew and swallow your food before answering him. “Song for Enha.”

“Yeah? What is it called?”

“Bills,” you tell him. He glances at you, giving you a knowing look. You understand what the look means. You sigh. “It’s a song about a break up, but it’s not about our break up.”

“Why? You didn’t want to write one ‘cos you know you’ll come back to me anyway?” Jungkook asks with a chuckle.

“No, I didn’t write any songs about our break up because it wasn’t worth it,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders as you continue eating. Instinctively, you glance at him, and you see Jungkook looking at you with his jaw tensed. You hit a nerve—you hit more than just a nerve, but perhaps his entire ego, and nothing is more fragile than a man’s ego.

A part of you swells in pride knowing you’ve hurt his ego, but the other part of you mentally scolds yourself for saying what you said. Jungkook is a ticking time bomb; the last thing you want is for him to explode. “Sorry,” you say, sucking your teeth. “Forget I said anything. Let’s just continue eating, please.”

“How did you go from loving me to hating me, Y/N? I’ve done nothing but love you. Why did you suddenly leave me?” Jungkook asks, his tone indicating he’s hurt which takes you aback.

Jungkook—the man who forced himself upon you last night, who slapped you, who threatened to kill your brother if you don’t oblige to his requests and blackmailed you—hurt? It gives you a whiplash just thinking about it. He’s fucking delusional, you conclude.

“Jungkook, you changed,” you say. “You—,”

“Just because someone you love changed doesn’t mean you leave them,” he hisses.

“You leave when they’ve changed for the worst, Jungkook, and you changed for the worst. You became controlling,” your breathing is ragged, but you swallow the lump in your throat as you continue your tirade.

“At first, I let it go because I loved you and I’ve known you since we were fifteen and I know how possessive you can be, but I told myself it was just because you’ve always been insecure even when you had no reason to. Then, it escalated. Suddenly, you always wanted to check my phone, always wanting to be here at my studio or wherever I am when I’m working because you’re paranoid about the people I work with, dictating what I should and shouldn’t wear, and you disrespected my boundaries when I clearly established them with you especially in sex. You no longer see me as your girlfriend or even as Y/N, your friend before being your girlfriend; you treated me like I’m an object, like I’m your property.”

“I did all those for you, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw. Those people you work with—that fucking Jang Yijeong and Kim Woosung—it’s clear they want you. They practically eye fuck you every time you’re in the goddamn room! You’re my girlfriend. It’s only natural that I do everything to let them know you’re mine,” Jungkook reasons, shaking his head at your tirade.

“They’re my co-workers, Jungkook! Yijeong, he’s like family to me now much like how Yoongi is because they taught me everything I know about songwriting and producing. And Woosung? He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have male friends.”

“You’re so naive, baby, it frustrates me so much,” he scoffs, poking his cheek with his tongue as he narrows his gaze at you.

“Tell me there’s a part of you that understands where I’m coming from,” you desperately say, but you’re met with the coldness of his eyes. You shut your eyes tightly. “Jungkook, I broke up with you because I finally saw you for who you truly are. You don’t love me; you want to own me.”

“I told you I’ll show you how devoted I am to you,” Jungkook quips, chuckling to himself. You shiver at his lighthearted disposition. “I love you, Y/N. It’s only right that I get to you all to myself because I’m all yours.”

━━ “You wrap around me and you give me life.” END

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook smut #dark jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #yandere bts #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook ff #jungkook #jungkook x y/n

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lemonlover1110 · 22 hours

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 24] The Truth

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“What are you going to do with him again?” Satoru asks as you get ready to meet up with Suguru. He talks as if he has any right to know. You’re finishing up your makeup in your room while he stands in the doorway.

“Does it concern you?” You look back at him. And he sighs before shaking his head. He guesses it doesn’t. He can’t argue with you about it, yet he stands there, leaning on the doorframe. You finish putting on your lipstick before looking back at him and raising your eyebrows, “Aren’t you going to Ren? He’s waiting for you to talk about his birthday plans.”

“Right…” Satoru answers, turning around and going to Ren. He finally leaves you alone with your thoughts, finally not having to listen to his stupid comments. As much as you don’t enjoy his presence at the moment, you still have to tolerate him because of your son.

Slowly you are seeing his point of view, but that doesn’t mean you forgive him. Satoru was young, easy to manipulate– Well, you aren’t exactly focused on his age but more about the fact that Satoru was recently grieving the loss of his father and in a way felt threatened that he would lose everything simply for not following orders. What hurts you the most right now is that he didn’t even try to explain the situation to you, he assumed you were better off going your own separate ways.

“Mommy!” Ren comes running into your room, disrupting the peace that you were just granted. You look at the puppy eyes that adorn his face, and you already know he wants something. You allow him to speak first, not wanting to accuse him of something that he might not even do. But you’re proven right, “Can I get a puppy for my birthday?”

“Remind me how old you’re turning, Ren.” You tell him, and Ren holds up five fingers, a grin on his face as he shows off his big age. You fight back a smile, trying your best to remain as serious as you can possibly be. You won’t be easily convinced by him. “Five. Such a big age, right? But not enough to take care of a puppy, plus you’re starting school soon.”

“School?” Ren asks as if it’s the first time he hears of it. You’ve been preparing for him, telling him about it daily.

“You know, the place where you’ll be going to learn and make friends for the next thirteen or so years of your life.” You answer, and his mouth turns into a circle when he remembers. “Who’s going to take care of the puppy then? I still have to work.”

“Granny.” Ren answers, and you chuckle as you shake your head. Your mother isn’t exactly a big pet person, if you were to give her the responsibility of taking care of a puppy, she might just kill you. He puts his hands together and begs, “Please, mommy, please! I want a puppy!”

“Ren, we both know that–” You begin, but you realize you’re just wasting your breath. You look at the time, realizing that if you don’t finish up soon, you’ll be late. “Talk to your father about it, I have to finish getting ready.”

“Daddy!” Ren yells as he walks out of your bedroom. Maybe you made a mistake since Satoru loves to spoil Ren, and Satoru doesn’t like to think of additional responsibilities since he’s not the one that’s at Ren’s side at all times.

You’ll deal with it when Satoru attempts to get Ren a puppy, for now you’re going to focus on your own problems. Your own problem being your meeting with Suguru.

You wait for Suguru at the café near your apartment. You have a beverage in your hand, taking an occasional sip, making sure you don’t finish it before Suguru finally decides to show up. Your eyes are glued to the door, waiting for him to finally make his grand entrance.

You feel the nerves creeping through all of a sudden, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because you lied to him about Satoru, or maybe it’s because you’ve been avoiding his calls. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, looking at the time. If he doesn’t get here within five minutes, you’ll leave. He’s running late, and you have no intention of waiting for him all day.

In reality, you’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You want to avoid this confrontation as much as you can, but you know you have to face him eventually. Suguru has been one of Satoru’s closest friends, and you were close to dating, the least you can do is give him one last conversation. You can’t avoid him forever.

Your eyes shift back and forth between the time and the door, mentally praying that he doesn’t show up. However, your prayers go unanswered when he walks through the door, his eyes immediately landing on you. He gives you a soft smile as he approaches your table.

“Hi, Suguru.” You try to return his smile, but it looks awkward. Suguru points at the counter, telling you that he’s going to get his beverage before sitting down with you, to which you nod in response. You take another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. He looks fine, and you hate to ruin his day– Perhaps he won’t care, but you doubt it. You told him a very serious lie about his best friend, you doubt he’ll be too happy with you after finding out.

“It’s so nice to see you after… So long.” Suguru sits across from you. You shift in your seat, adjusting your posture before focusing on him. You nod with an awkward smile on your face. At that moment you know, this is going to be a long hour.

“It is.” You agree before a long awkward pause ensues. You clear your throat, about to ask him how he’s been holding up, but Suguru has other plans when he speaks up before you,

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He goes straight to the point. There’s a reason why you two are there, and it isn’t for small talk. Maybe you can get to more fun matters later or another day, but not right now.

“I’ve just been busy with Satoru and figuring out this whole parent thing, that…” You begin with an excuse but you can’t finish the sentence. You bite down your lip before you take a deep breath. You have to say it, if you keep dragging it you’ll feel worse. “I partially lied to you. Satoru never suggested an abortion at the thought of me being pregnant, I didn’t tell him because he didn’t give me the chance to, and then I couldn’t tell him because… His mother didn’t want him to know.”

And he chuckles. Suguru lets out a laugh, which makes you furrow your brows. You expected many different reactions, but not a laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting for him to say something else.

“Is that why you haven’t been answering my calls?” Suguru asks, and you hum in response even though it’s not all. He lets out another laugh, and you want to ask why he laughs but you decide against it. You wait for him to finally say something else, although time feels as if it slows down. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” You sound utterly confused. What the hell is he talking about? How would Suguru know?

“I knew. I asked Satoru what he would’ve done if you had gotten pregnant and he said he would’ve stayed by your side.” He answers, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing that the situation won’t be the big mess that you were expecting. You do still feel guilty about it. “I mean sure… Satoru could’ve lied to me, but I don’t think he would have.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You’re curious as to why he decided to remain silent about this of all things. It’s a serious matter, which you would’ve expected him to furiously call you to berate you about. But you guess the man that sits across from you isn’t that type of person.

“You lied to me to protect your ass, and I can’t really blame you for it.” He shrugs, and he could’ve left it at that and it would’ve ended up perfectly fine. The conversation could’ve ended there and you would switch the topic and talk about more lighthearted stuff. But Suguru makes sure to add, “Plus Satoru also lied to you so you’re even, I guess.”

“Do you know?” You question, wondering why he brings up the fact that Satoru lied to you as well. You watch his cheeks turn pink when he realizes his words.

“Know what?” He stutters, which says all you need to know. He knows. For how long has he known? He realizes immediately that he’s messed up. He gave himself away.

“For how long have you known?” You immediately ask, and Suguru tries to play dumb, he claims he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, making a fool of himself. You’re clearly mad, but you try to not let it show through your tone. You try to take deep breaths.

“You can say we’re kind of even…” Suguru scratches the back of his head, but that’s not enough. You’re not even because the situation with Ren had nothing to do with him, at least in your eyes. Yes, you lied to him, but it was your business, something that had nothing to do with him.

“Does Shoko know too?” You scoff, and it’s merely a joke, but Suguru bites down his lip before commenting,

“I mean, considering the fact that she’s sleeping with his wife, probably.” Which makes your eyes widen. It’s shocking, but it makes a lot of sense. You’re still speechless. “Satoru told me… A while ago.”

“I guess we’re even then.” You let out a chuckle, but it’s not humorous. You’re clearly… Annoyed. “But I think… I had different plans for us, and so did you. But we should remain as friends.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, confused why you say that. He knows you’re mad, but what you’re making is a rash decision. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, you’re just upset because–”

“No, I know what I’m saying. Suguru, I lied to you so I guess I shouldn’t be too mad but I am. And I lied to you about Satoru, and… We shouldn’t be together, I feel like we started this off wrong.” You respond, and it almost hurts to say.

“But we can start over again without lies and–” He begins, and you cut him off.

“Let’s try to give it some time before even thinking about that. I’m not really in the right headspace for a relationship.” You answer truthfully, and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t know why, but that ticks him off.

“I bet you’ll end up choosing Satoru again.” He sounds bitter, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he says that, he assumes you’re so in love with Satoru that you can’t have a relationship with him. Suguru thinks too mighty of himself. “Explains why you so adamantly ignored my calls, and why you were on vacation with him–”

“I have a son with him, Suguru. Of course I’m going to do shit with him.” You interrupt him, standing up from your seat. He has his arms crossed, looking almost like a pouty child because he isn’t getting his way. He almost reminds you of Satoru. “I told you we should give it time before we even begin to think about it. Don’t make your case worse.”

He keeps silent while you walk away, deciding that you’re right. He isn’t going to make his case worse.

“How did it go?” Satoru seems as if he has been waiting by the door for you the entire time.

“He knew?” You immediately ask, and he nods in response which makes you roll your eyes. “Everyone knows shit except me.”

“I can say the same about Ren.” Satoru argues, which is a great point, but you won’t admit it. You hand him your purse, as if he were your own little butler, and he proceeds to take it to your room.

“Where’s Ren?” You half-yell, and the man shushes you, which earns a weird look from you. There’s no way he actually got Ren to fall asleep… But for what other reason would Satoru shush you?

“He’s asleep.” Satoru informs you when he walks back, and you want to question what kind of sorcery the man is doing to make a boy that hates taking naps, fall asleep. You do appreciate it though, so you won’t complain.

You two awkwardly stand around, not sure what to speak about next since Ren is asleep. There’s something that comes to mind, but you’re not sure how appropriate the question is. Ren is asleep, so there shouldn’t be an issue, however, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries.

You still clear your throat though, “Did you know that Shoko was–”

“I know.” Satoru chuckles. “Right when we got back, Shoko dug her claws into her– Or Sayo did.”

“Were you upset when you found out? I mean, when we first saw each other again you called her love.” You bring up, walking over to the couch to take a seat, and he follows behind. Satoru takes a moment to think, and properly formulate his answer. He sighs before speaking up,

“I guess, for a moment I thought I loved her. I’m very fond of her, and I confused my adoration for her as love. She knew what I was going through, and she was always sweet to me, we could make each other laugh. Overall, we got along.” He explains, and you listen attentively. You’ll do anything to gain a little bit of perspective into his mind. “We just had each other, and that was that. But then you came into my life, and I remembered what love felt like.”

You feel your face get warm, and you look away from him. Maybe Suguru is right– You can’t let him be right. Satoru still committed a lot of bad actions.

You stay silent and let a minute pass before speaking up again, changing the topic, “It’s not just Ren’s birthday coming up, but also yours. What would you like?”

“I already have everything I could ever want.” Satoru answers, which makes your task slightly more difficult. You’re still going to get him something for his birthday, even if it’s just a pair of socks. “How about Ren? I heard he wants a puppy.”

“He’s not getting one. Nope.” You tell him, and he laughs before nodding in response. You’re not sure he’s gotten the message yet, but you’ll make sure to remind him.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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artificial-transmutations · 2 days

Text

Finally Together

When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.

"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."

"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.

He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.

"How..."

"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.

Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.

"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.

"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."

Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.

"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"

"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"

I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.

I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.

To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.

I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.

He stood up and greeted me.

"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"

"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.

"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.

"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."

"A complaint? About what?"

"Your staff."

"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"

"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."

The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?

"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."

I felt my face reddening from anger.

"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."

The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"

"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."

"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."

Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.

"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.

Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.

"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."

I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.

"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."

In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.

I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.

With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.

In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.

The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.

While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.

The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.

"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.

My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.

Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.

I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.

Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.

I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.

The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.

So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.

I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.

Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.

Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.

Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.

Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.

A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.

Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.

That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.

It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.

It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.

Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.

However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.

Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.

"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"

I was taken aback by his reaction.

"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"

"Who?"

"Mathilda, your best friend."

Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.

"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"

"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."

He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."

I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.

"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."

He looked at me skeptically.

"Fine. I'll listen."

With that, he let me into his apartment.

"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"

"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.

Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.

The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.

I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.

"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"

"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.

"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."

Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.

Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.

"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."

"Uh... what?"

I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.

"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!

"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."

I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.

Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.

Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.

"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.

"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"

I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.

#female to male tf #muscle transformation #straight to gay #inanimate transformation #sweat #musk #man stink #romance

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hgfictionwriter · 1 day

Text

Sickness

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's just about to make her big debut with the Thorns and she insists on taking care of you even if it means she may get sick.

Warnings: None

A/N: In response to this request. I completely agree - Jessie would revel in taking care of her partner.

You winced as your alarm rang in your ears. You blindly pawed along the nightstand looking for your phone and turned off the grating sound with relief. You laid out on your back and frowned deeper. Your head was pounding. You inhaled deeply and quickly realized you were congested.

"Oh no."

You opened your eyes and saw light filtering in through the crack in the doorway to your ensuite bathroom; you heard the shower running. Jessie must've gone for a run already.

You forced yourself to sit up in bed and involuntarily winced once more as a sharp pang shot through your head at the movement. This wasn't good.

You cleared your throat, nearly coughing at how inflamed you discovered your throat to be. You got out of bed and made your way to the entryway of the new apartment you and Jessie shared. You'd taken possession a couple of days ago, and though a few boxes remained, you'd mostly unpacked and settled in. Neither of you being particularly materialistic made moving a much easier ordeal than it may have been otherwise.

You looked in the mirror that was freshly hung up and a low grumble emanated painfully from your throat. Though you looked okay for the most part, the bags under your eyes told a different story.

Your ears perked up as you heard the shower turn off and you rushed over to the kitchen, your mind scrambling to remember where you'd decided to store meds. You quickly found the bottle of painkillers and poured yourself a glass of water and hurriedly downed a couple of pills before tucking the bottle away to hide the evidence. You ignored how the pills went down like a couple of razor blades.

You were pouring more water when you heard Jessie pad into the hallway.

"Hey babe," she greeted.

You glanced up, working to rid yourself of the panicked feeling that still lingered. You smiled at her - a very easy feat when your eyes fell upon her in her sweats and a baggy t-shirt as she towel-dried her curly, wet hair. You cleared your throat as subtly as you could.

"Morning." To your relief, your voice sounded alright. For now.

"Did you sleep okay?" She asked as she crossed over to you with a hint of a frown on her face. "You were tossing and turning a lot."

"I'm sorry," you told her and she gave you a laugh.

"Don't be sorry. I'm sorry if you didn't sleep well," she said and wrapped her arms around you and leaned in to give you a kiss. You turned your head and her lips connected with your cheek. She pulled back with a discerning look.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, it's all good," you told her lightly as you removed yourself from her embrace and wandered over to the living room. You didn't know what you were doing, you just wanted to put as much space between you and her as possible. Her first day of training with the Thorns was tomorrow and the very last thing you wanted was for her to get sick.

You were reticent to tell her you were sick, too. Jessie was exceptionally thoughtful and caring, so if she knew you were sick, she would care for you even if it meant she'd get sick. You didn't want that in any case, but especially not with her being brand new on the team.

A mildly frustrated huff escaped you as you heard Jessie following you into the living room. You pointedly kept your back to her as you busied yourself studying one of your plants. You toyed with the leaves for a while and subtly shifted your gaze to the side, trying to peer at her as discretely as possible when you felt her hovering and not saying anything.

"I can book you a flight back home for a bit." Her voice was small, her words immediately pulling a deep frown out of you. You glanced over your shoulder at her in scrutiny, a low pang in your chest forming as you saw her standing somewhat dejected in the middle of the room.

"I know you came here just for me," she went on, her voice low as she tucked her hands into her pockets and looked up at you, her head hung slightly. "You left a lot behind. I don't take that for granted. I want to do whatever I can to make sure you're happy here. If you need to go back home more often or if I need to fly your friends or family out, I'm all for it. Whatever you need. I want you to be happy."

You turned around fully to face her. Sweet Jessie. Your beautiful, sweet, thoughtful Jessie. This is exactly why she was worth moving halfway around the world for. Your shoulders slumped as guilt crashed over you. You took in her sad, dark eyes and gave her a soft smile.

"Baby, I'm sorry. This," you gestured between here and the kitchen, "has nothing to do with any of that. I don't regret anything - I promise you. And I'm happy here with you. I know it won't always be easy, but we are solid - please know that." Her forehead was still creased in concern and you let out a small, embarrassed laugh. "I'm just being weird because I think I'm sick. I woke up with a pounding headache and my head's all congested, my throat hurts. And I do not want to get you sick."

You could visibly see the relief go through Jessie's body and she immediately took a couple large strides over to you. You immediately held up your hands and pressed against her chest as she tried to close the space between you.

"Babe! What did I just say?" You protested.

"I'll be fine!" She assured you as she pushed back and your half-hearted effort ceased. She held you tight and kissed your cheek. You indulged momentarily, wrapping your arms around her and leaning your head against hers. It always felt so warm and comforting in her arms.

You took a step back, putting your hands against her chest once more and gently pushing her back with a pointed look.

"That's all you get," you told her and she reluctantly let you push her back a couple of steps, her eyes not leaving yours.

"I'm going to take care of you," she told you in defiance and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you."

"Why? Because I love my girlfriend and want to take care of her when she's sick? Well pardon me," she said dryly.

"Jessie," you pleaded, your voice rising in pitch. "This is serious. You're brand new on the team. You can't be sick right now."

She huffed and straightened her postured as she cocked her head at you. She contemplated her words for a few seconds before speaking.

"I understand what you're trying to do. But it's not necessary. I'm on a contract - I'm here for three years. People get sick - that's normal. I have lots of time to earn my place and make my mark here. If I did get sick - which I won't - it's not the end of the world if I miss a session or two."

You tutted in disapproval at her stubbornness. If you weren't so concerned for her, you'd be able to appreciate her sentiment more. Jessie - who was beyond dedicated to her sport, was actually willing to risk missing practice or even a game for you.

"I'm serious, Jess. Stay away. I'm going to sanitize things, and you keep to yourself and I'll do the same. I will be perfectly fine. I don't need you to take care of me."

She frowned at you, looking almost insulted.

"Well, I want to take care of you," came her rebuttal.

"Well I'm refusing," you countered, crossing your arms.

Jessie shook her head and mimicked your body language, folding her arms across her chest as well. When she spoke, her tone was unwavering.

"Listen, I know you're very independent. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. But you're my girlfriend, my partner, love of my life, and I am taking care of you - end of story. So you are going to sit down on that couch," she pointed to it, but kept her eyes locked on you, "I am going to tuck you in, bring you food and drinks, we are going to watch movies all day and you are going to nap and get as much rest as you can. Understood?"

Any argument you had been formulating died on your lips. Jessie was rarely like this. She was such a good sport, always going with your ideas and whims and her family and friends made fun of her all the time - affectionately, of course - for it. You believe you heard the phrase, "You're so whipped" come up a few times.

You chewed the inside of your lip for a few seconds, refusing to break eye contact with her until you finally relented with a light scoff and roll of your eyes.

"Fine," you pouted. "But when you get in shit from your coach, don't tell me I didn't warn you."

Jessie simply grinned brightly at you and ushered you to the couch, setting you up with pillows right away. Soon she was ferrying items to and from before finally settling in with you. She pulled you against her so your head was resting on her chest as you watched TV together.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't love it.

-----

The next day, despite Jessie's efforts, you were feeling infinitely worse. She set you up on the couch in the morning and kneeled down in front of you, concern clear on her face.

"I don't want to leave you," she said, passively seeking your permission to stay with you.

"Go," you said, your voice now thick and hoarse. You turned your head into the couch and coughed. She immediately began rubbing your back.

"I can't leave you like this," she pouted.

"Go," you repeated, this time more adamant before continuing softly. "I want you to. Go blow them away. I'll be here when you get back."

She hummed deep in her throat, studying you for several moments before giving up with a light huff. She leaned in and kissed your forehead, bringing her hand up to cup your cheek and caress your cheekbone.

"I'll be home before you know it." She frowned at you before adding firmly, "Call me if anything comes up." You would normally roll your eyes at how overly attentive she was being - as much as you loved it - but you were so drained all you could do was close your eyes and nod.

"My baby," she said as she continued to caress your cheek. "I hate that I can't make you feel better."

You heard her get up and after a while you felt something being pushed into your hands. You slowly opened your eyes to see the little koala plushie she'd brought home for you from Australia.

"You hold him until I get home, okay?"

You whined against your will and clutched the plushie close to you, tucking your chin against it. You looked up and her lips were turned down in a sad smile as she watched you.

"I love you so much," she told you and leaned down to kiss you on the temple. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

"No," you whined further. "Do what you need to do. Don't rush home for me."

"I always rush home to you," she countered with an easy grin. You moaned in mild complaint.

"Why are you so good to me?" You pouted.

"Because I love you. And you deserve it," she told you readily as she swung her backpack over her shoulder.

"Mmm. I want cuddles when you get back," you continued to pout. She laughed.

"I'm going to bring you snacks and treats and then you'll get all the cuddles you want."

"Mmm," you whined again. "I'll miss you." She leaned down to lay one more kiss on your head.

"I'll miss you too. Now, get some rest. I'll be home soon."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #canwnt #woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #portland thorns #canwnt x reader

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itsthestutterforme · 3 days

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Should We Try Again? 1/2 (toxic!Rafe Cameron x toxic!reader)

Summary: Rafe tries to accuse you of cheating, and you did some snooping of your own. And when Rafe found out you went through his phone, you were in for it.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, Topper is a really good friend in this fic, reader is black, dark themes (choking, threats, arguing, name calling, overall just toxic behavior)

If any of these making you uncomfortable, pls don’t read. Take care of yourselves.

You and Rafe had one of your fights again. The yelling match, screaming in each other’s face kind of fight.

The kind of fight where the police gets called because someone heard glass breaking and shouting.

This particular time, he logged into your Instagram and founded close to 50 DMs from guys commenting on your stories where you posted your OOTDs.

You never opened any of the DMs but there were too many to go unnoticed.

“Do you get off on having other guys want you or something? Huh?” He starts as he abruptly forces his way into the bathroom where you were showering.

“What are you talking about, Rafe?” You snark, ringing out the water from your hair.

“What the hell is this?” He rips the shower curtain open.

“Rafe!” You scold, shutting off the water so none leaks onto the floor. He shoves his phone in your face and repeats, “What the hell is this?”

“They’re DMs, Rafe. Why are you talking to me like I did something wrong?”

“Because you did do something wrong by not blocking these sons of bitches. You like the attention, don’t you? You fucking slut.”

“Don’t you dare call me a slut, asshole. It’s DMs. They don’t mean shit!”

You close the shower curtain so you can resume your shower when he ripped it open again.

“Oh it means something when they’re sending dick pics, Y/N! They want to fuck you!”

“It doesn’t matter if they want me because I’m with you, Rafe. Not them.” You tried to reason.

You were already exhausted from work and you really didn’t need this right now.

“You’ve been sending them nudes, haven’t you?” “Are you fucking serious, Rafe?” “Do I look like I’m joking right now?” He says flatly, his nose flaring angrily.

“No, I haven’t sent anybody nudes. I didn’t even know they sent me dick pics because I don’t open them, Rafe.” He gives you a pointed look and you crossed your arms as a challenge.

It was clear you weren’t going to shower in peace so why not add some fuel to this fire.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Shame on me for having fifty unopened DMs but everything is okay when you have hundreds of opened DMs?” You antagonize, slowly stepping out of the shower with suds still on your body.

You watch as his face fell for a few seconds before it hardens once again.

“You’ve been going through my phone?” He asks. “Of course I have! Because I know you’ve been in my phone, desperate to find secrets to use against me. So I figure why not dig up some secrets of my own.”

“Y/N,” he warns lowly, taking a step towards you.

“What did you find?” He wrote down a few things about the cross.

Like where he’s already looked and potential places where it might be. But he hid those notes behind a passcode in his journal.

There were also a few texts of Ward asking ‘if it was taken care of’. Garret’s body.

There was no way you could figure out the passcode, right?

“What are you so scared I would find?” You questioned, purposely being vague. There was no point in being specific, if he was going to connect the dots for you.

His anxiety got the best of him and he wraps a hand around your throat, giving it a warning squeeze.

“Stop being cute and tell me what you saw.” He orders.

There wasn’t a constant pressure so you were able to breathe fairly normal. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind.

“I only went through your social media and some of your messages. Nothing else.” His hand twitched around your throat when you mentioned messages.

“I just wanted to see if you were texting others girls.” You added, wrapping your hands around his wrist.

“What else?” “Nothing else, I swear.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” “I’m not lying to you.” He pulls away from your throat and you instinctively touched your collar bone.

His gaze softens when you stepped away from him. He itched to get close to you and apologize for over reacting, but he still wasn’t sure that you didn’t know about the gold and the bodies.

So his hands remained by his sides, tightening every so often.

“What are you protecting?” You asked cautiously. “Don’t pull that shit again.” He states before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the front door of your house.

That was a few days ago, and you haven’t spoke to each other since. The most interaction you’ve had was him viewing your story. That’s it.

You’ve been going straight home after work, not wanting to interact with anyone unless you had to.

But a small part of you wished you’d come home to Rafe waiting for you on your door step or him come to see you during your break.

But he never did. That was enough for you to come to the conclusion that he stopped caring about you.

He was so worried about protecting something or someone that was willing to choke you out to protect it.

You’ve seen him anxious about a few things but nothing set him off like you did that night.

You were watching one of your comfort movies with your fleece blanket wrapped around you, eating some stir fry you ordered on UberEats when your phone chimed.

Topper: hey you doing okay?

Tossing the phone back on the bed, you used the chopsticks to dip a piece of beef into the speciality sauce before eating it.

Your phone chimed again.

Topper: We were friends before you started dating Rafe, remember? I care about you too.

You: I assume Rafe told you everything?

Topper: Just that you had an argument and you’re on a break

You: Well that’s an oversimplification.

Topper: I’m throwing a party tonight. You should come.

You: I’m not exactly in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of drunk dudes.

Topper: Stick by me and you won’t have that problem.

You: You’re right. Instead, you would have a Rafe sized problem.

Topper: I’m not scared of Rafe.

Topper: Just come by for a few. It makes me feel uneasy that you’re by yourself at home all this time.

Topper: Please.

You: Fine, Topper.

Topper: Great! I’m on my way.

You hated yourself for how quick your eyes locked in on Rafe as soon as he walked into the party wearing a navy blue shirt and a white hat that matched his white cargo shorts.

He dapped up a few guys that greeted him by the front door and looked straight up to where you were sitting next to Topper.

He found you almost immediately with an expressionless face.

Your heart skipped a beat that he looked for you but that feeling of elation left you as quickly as it came.

He didn’t reach out to you for three days. No call. No text. No apology. He was done and now it was your turn to feel the same.

“You two are like magnets,” Topper says from behind you. “Toxic ones,” he eventually adds with a chuckle.

“I knew you were going to say that,” you teased, playfully hitting his shoulder.

Sadness kicked your gut when two girls approached Rafe, one of them ran her hands over his chest as she went to whisper something in his ear.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” You said when you notice Rafe coming up the stairs with the girls.

“I’ll come with you,” you gave him a look. “What? I meant it when I said stick by me. Let’s go.”

He lets you lead the way and you go down the second set of stairs but you stopped abruptly, peering down at your jewelry.

Everything you were wearing was gifted to you by Rafe, even down to the earrings. You still wore the R golden plate necklace and matching anklet. You had his signet ring on your thumb because that was the only finger it could fit.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Topper questions. Rafe was watching the entire interaction from the loveseat you and Topper were just sitting on.

You bent down to take off your anklet and moved to take off your earrings next.

“Can you help me take off the necklace?” You asked, pulling off the ring and placing it with the other jewelry.

“Sure,” he agrees, pushing your passion twists out of the way.

You felt his warm hand brushing against the back of your neck when he unclasped the necklace.

He put the necklace in your outstretched hand. You walked back up the few stairs you crossed and approached Rafe whose eyes were still trained on you.

You let out a shaky breath before taking his warm hand into your own and giving him the jewelry. You were beginning to miss his touch.

Guilt flashed across his face, looking down at his hand. You avoided his gaze and left him without another word, rushing down the stairs and Topper followed after you.

“Well that was dramatic,” one of the girls says, rolling her eyes while her friend eyes the gold carat in Rafe’s hand that easily amounted to 75k.

“Can I have the earrings?” She asked and before Rafe could respond, she reached for them anyway.

Rafe caught her hand in a tight grip and she whimpers at the pressure.

“You’re hurting me,” she groans.

“No one told you to touch what’s hers,” he shoves her to the ground. “Hey! You asshole!” Her friend snaps, standing from the couch and helps her friend to her feet.

He doesn’t spare them another glance as he digs in his pocket for a baggie to do a few lines.

“Y/N,” Topper calls, finally catching up with you in the kitchen. “Are you okay?” He asks you, examining your face for anything he could read.

“You should check on him,” you poured yourself a shot in a small solo cup and knocked it back, barely making a face.

“I’m checking up on you,” “It needed to be done, okay. All of it were just reminders of what I don’t have anymore.” You explain, pouring yourself another shot.

“That was very brave for you to do.” “Then why do I feel like shit?” You huffed after taking another shot and he stops you from pouring another one.

“Because the break up is still fresh, Y/N.” He looks at you like you’re going to fall apart before his very eyes.

His soft eyes examines your face for any micro expression that could give away what you’re thinking.

“Look, Top. I know you’re trying to help and all but if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to cry.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I want to enjoy your party. Your birthday is tomorrow. You shouldn’t be spending it watching me cry.”

“That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you.” He shakes his head and you took his hands into yours, much like you did with Rafe.

But Rafe’s hand were warmer.

“It doesn’t make you a bad friend. I’ll find Sarah.” He studied your face once again and you gave him a soft smile.

“Go,” “Alright,” he says, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “I’ll come find you in like ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” he leaves the kitchen and you let out a deep sigh. You shouldn’t be here.

But you didn’t have the heart to ditch Topper on his birthday rager.

You pressed your palms into the cool, granite countertop and bowed your head to release the tension in your neck.

You hadn’t realize someone was in the kitchen with you until you heard footsteps and someone’s low voice. To your surprise, it was Pope standing on the other side of the counter.

“Sorry, were you saying something?” You asked softly, the shot were slowly starting to get to you.

“I said you are too pretty and insanely smart to be treated like an option.”

That was the nicest thing anyone said to you. You haven’t felt valued in a long time.

“Thanks, Pope. That really means a lot.”

His mouth fell open at your words. “You know who I am?”

“Yes I know who you are. Your family makes the best seafood boils in town.” You explained with a chuckle.

“She knows my name,” he said to himself, which he quickly realized you can hear.

“I should haven’t said that out loud,” he admits and you let out a laugh.

“You’re cute,” he scratches the back of his neck to hide how flustered he way. “Um, are you hiding from Rafe in here?”

“Yes, I am.” You admitted, crossing your arms. “Well if you want some company, my friends are by the bonfire outside. If you want to join. O-only if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything or-“

You interrupted his rant to say, “Sure. I’ll go with you.” You took a solo cup and swung by the keg on the way out, offering some to Pope.

“By the way, what makes you think I’m insanely smart?” “I’m a TA for Mr. Patterson. He still uses your test as a grading key.” He explains after taking a swig of your beer.

“Of course he does. I loved his class.” You admitted with a chuckle. “What is this?”

JJ stands from the chair and motions between you and Pope with his ringed pinky.

“I told her she can hang out with us.” “Hey, JJ.” You greet with a small wave.

“‘Sup, sweetheart. Want a hit?” He offered a blunt to you and you graciously accepted.

He had a grin on his face as he watched you take a hit. He expected you to cough or at least have your eyes water from the potency but much to his surprise, you exhaled the puff of smoke slowly without a fuss.

The mix of the weed and the tequila was throwing your head in a spin. “Never pegged you to be a pothead,” “I’m full of surprises, Maybank.”

A drunk Rafe stumbles outside in search for you when he finds you laughing with Pope and JJ.

JJ noticed your shivering whenever there was a breeze and peeled off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

Rafe wasn’t even aware what was happening until his vision started to blur.

He was crying.

#black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x you

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alltheirdamn · 3 days

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?”

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him.

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown.

Fuck.

You wanted the day to be over.

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right?

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation.

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart.

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak.

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return.

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do.

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness.

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked.

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye.

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out.

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault.

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day.

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school.

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee.

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows.

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied.

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow.

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now.

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words.

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly.

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?”

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected.

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished.

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee.

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly.

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.”

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft.

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly.

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine.

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash.

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you.

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes.

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away.

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist.

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body.

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck.

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar.

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs.

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.”

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine.

“Joel,” you whined.

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours.

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure.

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear.

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear.

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved.

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.”

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing.

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless.

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing.

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair.

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek.

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you.

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly.

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him.

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand.

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together.

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered.

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you.

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch.

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased.

“I just don’t like them!” You defended.

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms.

“Your turn,” you sighed.

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned.

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face.

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected.

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften.

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest.

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you.

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered.

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you.

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks.

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed.

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled.

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier.

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence.

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room.

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously.

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it.

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it.

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand.

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head.

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver.

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking.

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x teacher #joel x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miler tlou #tlou #pre outbreak!joel #the last of us fanfiction #fluff and angst #so much angst

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elllisaaa · 2 days

Note

omg hii can i ask for any bf!beomgyu thoughts if you have to share? 😔 they can be sfw or nsfw literally anything tysm <33

omgg yes i have some to share !! thank you for the request anonie, i looove to make these posts so much !

BF!BEOMGYU who's a little tease, and a menace, but who is also so down bad for you he could litteraly do anything for you.

one of the things he loves the most about your relationship is how you always know how to get back at him. yes, he's constantly teasing and bugging you, but you always have something to get him just as good and it brings a smile on his face each time. also, he knows when to stop and when he should be attentive and serious rather than joking around.

"promise i'm not making fun of you baby, i'm there for you, you know that."

beomgyu is also instinctive in the ways he tells you he loves you. honestly, he rarely says it through words but rather through acts of service, like cleaning your apartment before you come home when you're stressed out with work, or buying you little gifts that just made him think of you. that's what he does in every city he goes on tour : he always brings you a souvenir and tells you the story of how he found it.

"the flowers ? yes, they are for you." - "is there anything special today that i forgot ?" - "no, they just made me think of you."

he's a very cuddly boyfriend, not particularly in public even if he always has a hand on you, but when it's only the two of you, he's like a koala. there isn't a night that you spend with him and he isn't holding you in his arms. his guilty pleasure ? it's when he is the little spoon instead. beomgyu is too shy to ask for it most of the time, but when you offer it, he's quick to settle against you and let you baby him.

"can you play with my hair too ? i love it. and i love you."

BF!BEOMGYU who is a fucking brat when he's a sub, and a fucking tease when he's a dom. because he does both and it's driving you crazy.

it's a well-known fact that your boyfriend never listens to anyone, and it also includes you. whenever he goes submissive, you will have to go as far as making him cry if you want him to behave. he loves getting on your nerves and not listening to your orders, he loves the punishments you give him and he loves how hot you are when you're mad. in the end though he always ends up doing what you want him to do. beomgyu needs to hear you praise him when he's good and degrade him when he's been bad.

"no ! i can be your good boy, promise i'll do everything you want now."

no matter if he's on top or not, he loves it when you add a little pain in the mix. beomgyu loves it when you tug on his hair when he's eating you out, he loves when you slap him across his face because he disobeyed you. and he also love it when you force him to keep fucking you even if he already filled you up with his cum three times, and he loves it when you scratch down his back with your nails when he's ruining your perfect little cunt.

"fuck, yes baby, bite me again, you little freak."

when he's in the mood to take control, he's never too soft, but never too hard - he's the perfect mix. the thing is that he gets pussy drunk rather easily, but it's not his fault if he's addicted to the way you clench around his dick every time he praises you for being so good, or when he's calling you naughty for always thinking about him. beomgyu also adores to send you nudes or dirty videos of the two of you fucking when he knows you're working or can't go home immediately, because once again, he loves to edge you on and tease you.

"you're so desperate over only one picture of my cock baby, it's cute."

#eli answering your questions #eli's anonie #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu smut

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tigermark · 3 days

Text

sunny days ˖ ࣪⊹

the chenle portion of my playlist series!!

pairing : chenle x gn!reader

synopsis : you and chenle have recently broken up, but all he does is long for you. one day, however, this longing takes over him...

genre : fluff, angst, second chance kinda??

tw : established relationship (ig???), mentions of break up, going back to exes (don't.), very dramatic story, chenle desperate asf lowk

a/n : first post of the playlist series!!! this was actually supposed to be a stand alone fic but then i realized how much a series like this would eat so here we are 😛

chenle couldn't stand it. he couldn't stand the empty feeling inside him. he couldn't stand the ache lingering in his heart; the same one that had been there for the past week.

he hadn't left the house much in the past week, other than to walk to the convenience store by his apartment like he was doing right now. that was something he wasn't quite used to given the fact that he'd always be out doing things with you.

you.

the light of his life. someone he thought he would spend the rest of his time on earth with. he wasn't entirely sure what the reason of you breaking up with him was. it could be any number of things; finding someone new, falling out of love, finally realizing the flaws he had... it could've been anything.

chenle wished he remembered your reasoning, but he pretty much stopped listening to you after you said you wanted to break up with him. it would've hurt too much to listen.

even if it's been well over a week, chenle still has you running through his mind. you're all he can think about, in fact.

however he tries his best to ignore it, especially right now since your house is on the way to the very convenience store he's at.

should he go? no, it'd be stupid and immature to, he tells himself. but you're so close to him...

chenle knows he shouldn't go, but he isn't very good at holding back from temptation. instead, he picks up your favorite snack and goes to pay, practically sprinting out of the store once he does.

before he knows it, he's standing right outside your apartment complex. what the fuck was he thinking?

the thing is he wasn't thinking. well he was, but not about the logistics of everything. at this point, he came this far so why not go all the way?

and with that chenle walks up the stairs of your apartment complex, stopping at your floor. he stands at the top of the stairs for a moment, running his hands through his hair to hopefully calm himself. he walks over to your door and knocks. the same pattern he always used.

of course you immediately know it's him. you've been dreading this ever since he walked out that day. you can't just leave him outside though, it's cold.

you open the door, greeted with exactly what you thought you'd be. except he looks... different. like he'd been crying maybe. you can tell he was messing with his hair given how wild it looks.

"um..." is all you're able to say to him.

"y/n i know, please just..." he just stops talking all together. his eyes threaten to water but he sniffles the feeling back. he fishes the snack he bought for you out of the bag and holds it out to you with shaky hands. "listen to what i have to say."

you know you should slam the door in his pathetic face but you just can't. instead, you take the snack from his hand and step back to open the door further so he can walk in.

chenle's eyes meet your hesitant ones for a moment, immediately looking away. once he's in your apartment, you close the door to see him already staring at you.

"i'll be quick," he tells you as you nod in response.

you grab his arm and drag him to the kitchen, forcing him to sit down at one of the chairs pushed under your dining table. he sits down but you stay standing in front of him.

neither of you say anything. instead, you just stare into each other's eyes. chenle starts to feel tears welling in his eyes; he missed this so much. he finally breaks the eye contact, eyes wandering down to the floor as a tear falls past his lashes.

he doesn't even know how he ended up in your arms, but suddenly he is. "chenle i'm so sorry," you whisper into his ear, voice wavering. chenle lets out a choked sob into your shoulder, arms snaking up to hug your waist.

"i think i was just..." your voice trails off as you pull away from the hug to look him in the eye. "i wasn't thinking about anyone but myself. even then, this past week made me realize i wanted you back."

chenle nods, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "i know," he manages to mumble. "but please... can i have another chance? i'll be better this time i promise."

you let out a small giggle between the tears which also makes chenle laugh. "you were always so good to me lele." he hasn't heard that nickname from you in a while. it felt nice. "it'd be a blessing to have you back in my life."

#tigermark #the playlist series 🤍#nct #nct dream #nct chenle #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #chenle fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #chenle angst #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop fanfic

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ichimerapunk · 7 hours

Text

I’m kind of surprised I haven’t seen any fanfics that run on the idea that Alfred is a ghost? (Either as like the main focus of the story, or just a subplot.)

Think about it.

A lot of stories kind of have Alfred as being this eternally elderly man regardless of how old everyone else in the story is. The man doesn’t seem to age!

More importantly, where does he get the time and energy to do all the stuff he does to keep the manor and the family functional? He somehow manages to keep the giant house that is the Wayne Manor in order despite how many people live there plus his added duties thanks to the family’s vigilante lifestyle? When exactly does this man sleep? Also, I always find it amusing how in stories Alfred seems to always be cooking but it’s rare to actually show him eating himself.

What if someone plays with the idea of him not needing to sleep, eat, etc. because he is a ghost?

I just kind of imagine the idea of Alfred getting up one morning to start the day and nothing seems amiss either to himself or the rest of the family; however, when he retires to his quarters for the night he discovers his body laying still and cold where he had left it. (Could you imagine him, after coming to accept he is a ghost, just… getting rid of his own body and going about life as usual and never telling anyone in the family?)

Maybe I just find the idea of Alfred, rather than passing on, just continuing to take care of his family like nothing has changed touching, if in a morbid way.

The idea could, technically, be construed as the rest of the family not paying Alfred any mind or taking him for granted so much they don’t notice he died, but in my head its more of a fluffy/humorous thing where Alfred is just very good at hiding his ghostly nature from anyone.

This story idea doesn’t even have to necessarily be a Danny Phantom crossover. It’s just that this fanfic idea was spawned out of this brief scene idea of Danny coming to live at the manor (insert any other story plot as to why), and both Alfred and Danny clocking each other immediately. (The idea included Danny fretting over asking Alfred about it but being afraid Alfred might not know he’s dead, and Alfred noting Danny is half-ghost but his only concern is that anyone living under his roof is cared for.

(If I didn't already have a dozen or more story ideas sitting in folders not yet completed, I'd kind of want to brainstorm on this more because I think its a cool concept?)

#batman fanfic idea #batman facfic plot bunny #Alfred Pennyworth #Alfred Is a ghost #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc fanfic idea #dp x dc plot bunny

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nothing-tolose · 2 days

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Foolish One.

warning: reader being so dumb bcs she always ignores every signs and dreaming too much <3

if you have criticism and suggestions to me, you can just knock my dm or send it to inbox <3

a/n: this whole fic was messed up like REALLY REALLY MESSED UP please bear w me ;) have fun anw

wc: 6K

daily click

Cards are on the table. It's way past midnight, yet the living room is bathed in light, and laughs from your friends all over the room. Here you are, having a sleepover for four nights with your friends and now playing UNO cards with them. None of you all can sleep, that's why now you were sitting on the dining chair, with three cards on your hand.

"Ellie! It's your turn!"

You glanced at Ellie, who was sitting across the table, as Sophie called out her name. God, you couldn't help yourself but screaming inside your heart as you saw her smile on her face. Those freckles on her face, green emerald eyes, and the scar on her eyebrow, she literally got your attention.

You knew that you were already fell in love with her, ever since you saw her on Aimee's instagram story 3 months ago. Head over heels even. But one thing you can't help it from yourself everytime you fall in love, you were too afraid to reach her out. Of course, your friends giving you a lot of advice so you wouldn't be afraid to start a conversation with Ellie. You already tried on their advice, such as texting her through direct messagw but always ended up you delete it before you could even send the text.

So many negative thoughts when you tried to reach her. What if she doesn't like me? What if she call me a freak? What if she hates me? A countless what-ifs lives rent free on your mind. And it explains why you weren't close enough with Ellie, you were too afraid and too shy to start a conversation.

You knew all about her from your friends. They'd tell you what's her interest, what she likes and hates, what she afraid of, and so much more. You do realize that you can't just got her news only from your friends, so you've been following her instagram account by your not really a suspicious fake account named @/16candlesf00l. Thank God her account isn't a private account, and thank God she didn't block your account!

You've also been following her TikTok with another fake account since she was pretty famous there with around 8,000 followers she has, and that makes you can easily leave comments on every video she posts without worried about she's going to confused, you usually leaving comments like, "Oh, you're really pretty!" and other flirty remarks. Then one day, you comment, "Did you cut your hair?" and she responds with just "Yeah." Despite her brief reply, you respond enthusiastically with "Should we get married?"

A single word, 'Yeah,' had already sent you into an hour of rolling on your bed, giggling, and playfully kicking your feet against the pillows.

She didn't reply to your comment after that, and you didn't mind. At least there was a bit of interaction with you, right?

"Hey!"

Snapped back to the reality by Cassandra's tap on your shoulder, she leaned in and whispered to you, "Girl, I know you're head over heels for Ellie, but how long are you going to just stare at her, huh?"

"What-" You cast a quick glance at Ellie, unable to believe what Cassandra had just said. Yet there she was, looking back at you with that slight smile on her lips, her fingers idly playing with the cards in her hand. It was clear she had been watching you for at least a minute or two.

You quickly turned your head left and right, let out an awkward chuckle to Cassandra. Oh really, you lost your words.

"Uh- Cass- I.. Uhm, what color-" You stuttered, you started feel like this situation was fucking embarrassing especially when Ellie still looking at you, not moving even for a second. Cassandra and the others waiting you pull out your cards.

And for God's sake, you really wanted to hide yourself in a closet right now.

"Hey, why did you stuttered? It's blue, go pull out your card, babe!" Cass slapped your back (not in verbally way obviously. Immediately you pulled out your card, you didn't see the number first but the color.

You saw Ellie suddenly get up from her chair, she handed her cards to Chloe who's already won the game first, "Chloe, can you play my cards for me? Em—" she stopped, clearing her throat before she continued, "I have an emergency, I'll be back later,"

Chloe just nodded without giving her a glance, hands taking the cards. Meanwhile your eyes were never leaving her gesture leaving the dining room to backyard porch.

3 hours passed after the moment where you got caught by your friends for staring at Ellie for too long. Everyone was asleep, except you. It was really really boring because you're being the only one who can't sleep, meanwhile everyone is drowning in their own sweet dream.

The silence in Sophie's bedroom was so quiet that the ticking of the clock feels so loud here. You get up from the bed really slow and careful as you didn't want to disturb Cassandra's sleep, as she was a light sleeper. As you made my way out of the bedroom, you cast anxious glances at Cassandra, concerned that the door might creak loudly upon opening.

You turned your heels towards the backyard porch, then leaning your back against the fence. Your hands grabbed a cigarette and lighter from your pocket. As you took a drag, you sighed, your mind replaying the moment from two hours earlier. After revealing your cards, Ellie had turn aside her gaze, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that she was stealing glances at you every few minutes.

Okay, maybe you're really delusional.

"I thought I'm the only one who couldn't sleep?"

You fixed your position and looking around to find where the voice came from, an that's when you spotted Ellie from the house, pulling on her gray hoodie as she stepped to you. Did she just talking to you? Like, for the first time ever?

Jesus, 'No fucking way,'

You chuckled, "I guess my eyes weren't in the mood for sleep," you said. She joined you, resting her arms on the railing right beside you. "So," you said as you turned and tossed the cigarette into the trash bin below the porch, "What keeps you awake from sleeping? I mean, it's three in the morning and everyone else is asleep except us."

"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders, and you tilted your head, "You don't know?"

"Yeah, I just… I don't even know what I'm doing before I realize it's already 3 AM. I guess I was thinking about something, getting lost in it, and then I forgot it once I realized I'm still awake," As she spoke, her smile broadened and she turned her head towards you, her gaze firmly fixed on yours.

You nodded in response. You couldn't look at her directly for fear of blushing, even as you sensed her gaze from the corner of your eye. Deep down in your mind, you found it hard to believe what had just happened. The girl you had a crush on since three months ago, the girl you always adored from afar because you were too shy and afraid, the girl you've been flirted on her TikTok post comment section are the same girl who just talking to you a few seconds ago.

The atmosphere turned really awkward when neither of you continued the conversation. The only sounds were from the insects on the ground and the occasional car passing by on the street. You humming, for at least the situation wouldn't be too awkward if you do that.. maybe.

Ellie opened her mouth, "How did you met Sophie?"

"Hm?" you glance at her and gasped the next second, "Oh, Sophie! I thought you were speaking some words," you fall silent, hummed, and let out a little chuckle from your lips, "I've known her since the first year; she was my first friend at school before she introduced me to Aimee, Cassandra, and Chloe. We've gotten along ever since… until today. And.. what about you?"

"Sophie has been my friend since childhood, we were on the same school when I was 7, her dad was my father's fishing buddy for years and we were on the same neighborhood. Now she's more like my.. older sister," she stopped, before pull herself away from the railing, "But whenever I'm with her, it feels as though I'm speaking to an old woman who lives for a long time. She told everything to me, the dos and don'ts, and even offers five minutes of advice whenever she thinks I need it!"

You groans between your laugh, "Really? No way, she did the same thing to me all the time! She's truly the mom, isn't she? Oh, you know what? One day I was scammed by someone claiming to sell tickets for my favorite singer's tour. I ended up losing about 200 bucks, they blocked my numbers and didn't say anything! And she—"

"Wait, 200?!" Ellie interrupted, her tone a mix of surprise and shock. You nodded and chuckled as you saw her mouth fall open. "That's… quite a lot," she added.

"I know! Jeez, I was so dumb at that time, and Sophie was the first person I told, and she really scolded me for an entire day. She keeps bringing it up in the middle of any conversation, as if I didn't hear her the first time," you paused for a moment, taking a breath before continuing, "She even said things like 'I told you so, I damn well told you!', 'If only you had been patient, you wouldn't have been scammed', and 'With that money, you could've bought your precious expensive book,' ugh, I wasn't born for those words!" you imitated Sophie's voice, laughing lightly as you did.

You both laughed, the conversation continues as you both found a lot common in each other's interests when you mentioned your favorite comic book. You swore she's the sweetest when she's talking, eyes always locked on you, the funniest jokes she tossed, it all raises your hopes too high. Two hours flew by, until you started feeling sleepy and decided to head back to the bedroom, but when you were already laying down, the sleepy instantly gone.

You were talking to yourself in whispers before you asleep, mind keep thinking about Ellie and there was no any signs to stop thinking about her. So many wishful thoughts and imagines if you were dating her. Yet, no matter how long you could keeping her in your mind, there's always some voices showed up in your head and saying such things like;

'You really never learned from your past,'

'There's so many girls out there who maybe caught her attention,'

'It'd seem so sad if you're the only one who fell to her and she's not.'

'Aren't you afraid if she end up with someone who's not you like how the last time you fell in love?'

And you really hate those voices, trying to block them all out without giving a single damn to it. Instead, you tried to believe that things will work out with Ellie, unlike the last time when you fell for Robin—the girl who started dating someone else the day after you confessed your feelings to her.

No, you're not going to end up the same like that. Not now, not with Ellie.

"What if she confesses her feelings to me?" you mumbled, biting your lower lip as you began giggling and buried your face in the pillow, "God, I'm so fucking delusional!" although you said that, you couldn't stop for imagining if she were tell you about her feelings, going on a date to somewhere, chilling at her house or yours, and discussing about every novel you both likes.

It was so.. cute, you thought. However, you didn't realize that you were projecting those images as hopes onto yourself and it'd lead you to breaking down if you weren't aware.

You push the pillow away from your face, shifting into a side-lying position. A smile remains ever-present on your lips. You breathe in and out slowly, then closed your eyes, it's literally five in the morning and you haven't sleep.

"Have a good sleep, Ellie,"

Ugh, you did not.

Two months down the line. Returning home from Sophie's holiday house was quite late, a full day after everyone else had left. You had the option to ride with Cassandra or take up Ellie's offer, but you were waiting for your mom, who had promised to pick you up. She didn't show up for four hours, then she texted you that she would be a bit late, and you ended up waiting her until the next afternoon.

You've called her phone countless times, but she never answers. You can't turn to your dad for help either, as he's been in Greece for three months. And your brother? He would never waste his time just for drive ten hours from his place to Sophie's home and then take you to your apartment.

So, how did you managed to get home?

Ellie came back the next night after Sophie mentioned you to her. You were overwhelmed with guilt for having declined her offer to drive you home the day before, especially since she returned just to take you home, facing a five-hour drive. She knew you weren't really in a mood after waiting literally a night for your mom who texted you that she couldn't pick you up after you were already with Ellie. She knew that. That's why she made a stop at convenience store, bought a lot of foods and drinks before taking you to the closest beach for some relaxation.

You've been getting along with Ellie. Ever since the day she made sure you got home safely by driving you home, there hasn't been a day without texting, talking, and even meeting up with her. And indeed, for heaven's sake, she made you fall deeper for her, more than ever. The way she acts around you, the way she talked to you, the way she is paying her attention at you every time you tell her your story. She really keeps your hopes still high.

She always asks you to go out at least three or four nights a week, and you've never said no. After all, it's not a waste of time when the girl you have a crush on—the same one you always comment on her posts—is asking you out. Every time you went out with her, she was incredibly sweet, as if you were girlfriends. But sometimes, she'd leaving you too soon, she would be saying sorry because she had an emergency. And it wasn't just once. But you didn't mind at all since she still brought you out to any places.

Ellie would purchase everything for you; even when you babbled thoughtlessly, she would disappear for a bit and come back with an item you had mentioned in her hand. You have always warned her against purchasing such items without your consent-literally all the time, and although she agreed, she never heard your warning.

"I swear to God, Ellie. I just told you an hour ago to not buy me some things I babbled about!"

She smiled, "Oh.. really?" you scoffed, couldn't hide the smile from your lips, "You're smiling."

"Shut up, Williams!"

A couple weeks had gone by, you started to questioning yourself about what were you to her? Girlfriend? Or were you just trapped in situationship? The worse, you were only a friend to her. You couldn't find the answer. It seems like she might have the same feelings towards you. She made you flustered, made you felt like you were the luckiest person alive. On the other hand, she never mentioned what relationship you both are in right now. You couldn't even tell if you were deserve to feel hurt or not.

Despite everything, you know how to pretend you're fine when you're hurt, right..?

Now go back to the present, you found yourself resting your head on Ellie's shoulder, half-watching the netflix show on the TV. Instead of watching the show, you were busy on your own thoughts. Confused. Who are you to her? Just friends? Situationship? You knew it too well, it felt like you can call her as yours but in reality you were not.

"Everything's alright?" Ellie interrupted your thoughts as she spoke. You nodding your head in response, lied. And unfortunately you weren't good at hiding expressions. She can feel that you were far from alright.

"Are you sure?" she asked, paused the show. Then she pinched your cheeks, leaving you laughing and grabbing her wrists as you pleaded with her to stop, "You know, you can tell me if there's anything wrong. I'll help you," she added, her fingers stopped pinching your cheeks now.

You chuckled, "That's so nice of you, Williams. But trust me, nothing's wrong now."

You keep resting your head on her shoulder, your gaze wandering around her apartment. Three minutes later, you find yourself sinking back into your daydreams. About someday, when you both are older, these moments would be the things you always laugh about over the tea every morning while Ellie watching the news.

"It was so funny back then,"

"Yeah! Oh, remember when you drove me home but the you stopped at the beach!"

You huffed, realizing once more that it was all just a dream.

"Ellie," you called her name all of the sudden, with you playing with your fingers, "Yeah?"

"Do you ever... believe that if we were patient enough to wait someone we had a crush on, they'll coming to you?" you don't know, why the question was suddenly came out from your mouth.

She hummed at first, and laughed, "No.. I guess. Because, what if you were already waiting them patiently but apparently they weren't the one for you?"

You went silent, she tilted her head to you, "Why did you asked suddenly though? Did someone caught your attention for a while and you're waiting for them?" and you nods.

"Who?"

'It's you, dumbass.' you secretly rolled your eyes.

"I won't tell you," you sigh out, "I've been waiting them for these past 5 months, and for God's sake, she's too hard for me to reach!" you slammed your hands into your thighs, inviting her laugh.

"It's almost half of a year, and you still waiting?" you nods to her question, biting your lower lip and avoiding her gaze. You heard her letting out a heavy sigh, "What if they never come to you? As if their love were never gonna come either?"

You froze, losing all your words. Why was she asked you like she knew you were talking about her?

Thereafter her phone buzzed leading Ellie quickly flipped her phone like she doesn't want you to curious, "I'm going out for at least ten minutes, you don't mind?"

And who are you to said no and pleaded to stay here? You were her guest on her house, nothing more like that. In the end you answered okay, almost whispered.

You were spying her through the corner of your eye as she walked out onto the balcony and closed the door. You could see her from inside when she walked back and forth with a big grin on her face, occasionally laughing. You really wanted to know what was going on, what the conversation was about that made her laugh so freely. But you knew your boundaries; you weren't supposed to ask her personal questions.

At one time she talked too loud you could even hear it from where you sit, "You'll come back? You're kidding, right? I swear to God, Emma, I missed you so much!"

Wait, who's Emma?

Ellie looked so excited on conversation with someone she just called Emma. From what you've heard through friends, Ellie didn't have many friends, and they mentioned only Jesse, Dina, Aimee, Chloe, and Sophie when you first confessedyour feelings about Ellie to them. So.. who's Emma then?

What if she were Ellie's girlfriend? No, there's no fucking way. Five months ago your friends said she was single, so that.. can't be. You immediately get rid all your negative thoughts about the girl Ellie mentioned on her phone call.

Enough staring her too long and overthinking. You shrugged your shoulders, act like you didn't care at all, 'I shouldn't think about this.. No. Please, please, please, try to think how sweet Ellie when she's with me..'

You changed the show into the romance one, you cannot stop smiling, you dream up if those romance scenes you watched right now was you and Ellie. The thought from you think about when you were couldn't sleep at Sophie's holiday house came back, 'Will Ellie ever open up about her feelings for me?'

It was so dumb. Do you ever think like that? The answer is yes, but who cares?

Your phone buzzed, and as you glanced at the screen, a notification was displayed.

911 sophie

hiiiii babe let me tell u i'm at aimee's rn

You

helllooooo what r u doing w her?

911 sophie

aimee was about to inviting you to her house tonight, and the others too. but her phone was DEAD RN she's planning on making a whole fucking meal like.. for 6 people??!! anyway wya???? she told me to buy some foodstuff at supermarket but i'll be fucking bored if im alone since she cant go out she's too busy with her other food creation or idk whatever she called it sooooo do you want to accompany me say yes i'll pick you up RIGHT NOW

You chuckled as you saw her text. Aimee was definitely too focused on what's her doing right now. You could tell how bored Sophie was there.

You

does she invite ellie too? anw pick me up pleaseeee ms. torres;))) at ellie's house love u!

Your gaze went to Ellie's, seems like she already finished the call. It's been 4 hours since you got here, and maybe it's enough for today even though you haven't finished the show you're currently watching.

911 Sophie

yeah she invited ellie too why? huh you were at what??? ellie?? GIRL HOW

You

mmmm i'll tell u later ;p JUST PICK ME UP ALREADY

911 sophie

OH CMON okay i'll be there in 10 xo

You paused the TV show and rose from the couch, reaching for your sling bag on the floor. At the same time Ellie, had came back from the balcony, you could tell how good her mood is by her smile.

"Where are you going?" she asked, noticing that you had already slung your bag over your shoulder. She made her way over to you, her fingers were scratching her back neck.

"I… Uh… Sophie asked me to go out for buy some foodstuff.." you pointing your thumb to behind before falling silent for a moment. "Is… is it okay if I leave now?" you ask, feeling a wave of regret wash over you immediately after, cursing on yourself for even questioning why she wouldn't be okay with you leaving.

'God, I'm so weird!'

"Oh… Okay," Ellie glanced back before turning her head to stare at you, "I was about to leave as well. Where will she meet you? And maybe I can drive you—"

You cut her off, shaking your head, "Actually… she said she'll pick me up here in ten minutes." Ellie nodded in response, her mouth forming an 'O'. She made her steps into her bedroom after she smiled at you and came back with her wearing her green jacket.

Your other side was sooo curious. Where is she going? Why did she smile so happily after the call? And what made her so excited during the call earlier? Will she be with someone, or will she be alone? You don't know, and you want to know. You really want to know. Curiosity inside you feels like started to eat you up. You immediately shook your head, pushing away your curiosity. You started talking to yourself in a really low voice, as if you hadn't said anything, "I should stop doing that."

"Ellie, I…" you were staring at her as she hummed, her gaze was met yours, "I think I'm gonna wait on the front porch." You were about to make your way to the front door, but her hand grabbing your wrist stopped you. "Ellie?"

Your eyes locked on hers; her expression was different from a minute ago. It was... guilty? Sad? You couldn't even tell. What's going on now? Was this related to her call minutes ago?

"I just... want to say sorry,"

You tilted your head. Seriously, what's going on?

"So, did you mean she was saying sorry to you without explain everything?"

Now, you were in Aimee's kitchen with Sophie, picking up the conversation that had been put on hold hours earlier. Aimee was in her bathroom, and here it's only you and Sophie whereas the rest on the dining room. You did tell her everything what happened today, once you asked her who's Emma, but Sophie wasn't sure if she know that girl because Ellie never told her about Emma. You already asked Aimee too, and all she said was, "I think I've heard that name.. I don't know." they literally left you all disappointed.

"I was about to ask her why she was apologizing to me, but I couldn't because you came to pick me up," you said, rolling your eyes at Sophie, which was followed by laughter from both of you.

"Whoa, so it was my fault, young lady?" her tone was changed along with the tip of her lips moved down shaping like upside-down 'U', "Maybe she did something wrong and you didn't notice it. Don't take this seriously because I'm just trying to speculate."

You scoffed at Sophie, "I don't know, Sophie. As far as I remember, she didn't do anything wrong that would make me mad or upset," you said, turning your shoulders down and positioning the knife between the apple slices you had cut earlier.

"Try to ask later, babe. I'm pretty sure she'll tell you later," Sophie placed her hand on your shoulder, before she moved to your left side. You gave her a disagreement gesture, huffed so loudly, made her expression was changed in seconds.

"She haven't talk to me since she arrived here, Soph," head down as you resting your hands to the counter surface, "What?"

You huffed once again. Indeed, Ellie hadn't spoken to you or even glanced your way since she arrived. It was as if you had done something to pissed her off, but you hadn't. She didn't text or call you like she always did after you left her apartment, the last message was when you told her you were already at her house. You were too desperate to find an answer or even to asking her. She seemed like a different person, completely changed from when she last spoke to you hours ago.

You both went back to dining room, sitting right next to each other while Ellie was sitting in front of you. She didn't give you a single glance, as if you weren't there. It's not like what she did when the night at Sophie's holiday house back then. She checked her phone every 10 minutes like she's waiting something important.

Your eyes were never left her gestures during the dinner. Even when your friends tried to talk to you, you just answered them briefly because you weren't in the mood to talk. Twenty minutes later, Ellie excuses herself and leaves everyone else, including you. She takes her steps to the kitchen. You see her hiding her smile by biting her lip.

Does she even realize you're here?

"Is everything okay?" asked Chloe, sitting next to you. "You seem a bit off, and I noticed Ellie haven't been talking to you either. Is there something wrong between you two?" she moved her chair so she can move closer to you.

"We're fine," you claim, but it's not entirely true. You might be pretending, yet you're actually okay with Ellie since you've never argued before. Chloe grunts, sensing the dishonesty in your words.

"I know you're lying. C'mon, you can be honest with—"

You shake your head, you don't want this conversation to continue too far. Enough for tonight. "We're really fine, Chloe. Believe me."

Chloe nods, she's back to her position, "Okay then. But still, tell me—no, I mean, please tell us if something's wrong with you two, we can help."

You excused yourself to the bathroom, but Ellie's voice in the kitchen halted your steps. You never realized what are you doing in front of the bathroom door, until you found yourself leaning on the wall right next to the kitchen where you heard her voice. She sounded so happy, laughs between her words, saying jokes that she had already told you.

The ache in your heart was undeniable. Who could she be talking to on the phone? Emma, perhaps?

You bite your lower lip, your hands wiping away the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. You enter the bathroom and sit on the toilet, head bowed.

"Why does it hurt so much? I'm just her friend, right?"

Right, you had no right to be jealous or hurt when Ellie never thought about you being her girlfriend even though she treated you like one.

The next day, neither Ellie nor you started the conversation on messages like you two always did every morning. It felt so empty to you as you woke up and didn't find any signs of Ellie texting you.

You did your morning routine as usual without giggles and smiles. Everything went too quiet. You didn't mumbled or even talking to voice notes that you'e always sent to Ellie.

As night fell, time passed quietly. You didn't venture out, choosing instead to isolate yourself from the world, turned on the do not disturb mode on your phone even though Ellie hadn't sent any messages. The conversation remained where it was left off yesterday morning.

You couldn't resist the urge to text her, yet it all seemed no use when you deleted every word you were about to send.

You walked back and forth in your bedroom, hand holding the phone as your fingers scrolling through TikTok. None of the videos you watched, all you did was scroll and scroll, not really in a mood though but you were bored. Really bored.

Fingers stopped as you saw the profile picture, recognizing it too well, more than your own profile picture. It wasn't a video, but photos with a song called 'The Perfect Pair'. You knew who the figure in the photo was: auburn hair, sitting in the driver's seat, wearing the same jacket you saw yesterday, and the gray baseball cap she always wears.

Your eyes caught the other figure: long wavy ginger hair, sitting in the passenger seat, her hand holding the person you recognized before. God, your heart was beating faster than you could pant.

Slowly you sit on the floor, leaning onto your side bed.

You saw the caption, 'Soft launch' with some hashtag she always put in there. And the user she tagged, @/user3291emms.

That was the time you felt like something crashed your heart and broke into hundreds pieces. You know if you were too curious, you'll get the consequences. You opened the comment section, there was she commented on her own post, 'Welcome back to Boston, sweetheart.'

You feel like you're the most foolish girl who ever lived. Suddenly, you remember something that you had forgotten when you had a conversation face to face with Chloe.

"I heard from Dina, Ellie had been talking to someone for a while, the girl named Emma or something."

You didn't listen to Chloe that day because you were too busy adoring Ellie, who was playing her guitar far from you. You cursed yourself, mind repeating all those moments you always thought it meant nothing to you and her. All those moments became signs that Ellie wasn't the one.

The moment when she excused herself in the middle of UNO games, the moment when she always left too soon after she took you out, the moment when she was on the call on the balcony and she got too excited. The moment she was about to go, she was going to pick up Emma from the airport. And when she left the dinner party earlier than others, she was going on a date with Emma.

You were crying so hard, you put your phone right beside you while you buried your face between your arms.

"How could I not see the signs?" you spoke between your tears.

The voices in your head were right; you never learned anything from the past. Now, the voices were telling you why did you always ignore the signs. Because you were too busy loving someone, which led you to forget the worst-case scenario if they weren't loving you as you did to them.

Maybe you'll finally learn your lesson.

You sit there alone on the bench, at the park that Ellie always used to take you. Eyes never leaving two figures from afar, they seemed having fun on their own. Ellie hugging Emma tightly, giving her a lot of kisses while laughing at something. Thoughts of imagining if Emma were you came, which immediately you push away.

Ellie never texted you again or called you, or even talking to you, and you were trying to get used to it. Every single day, you tried to resist the urge to check the messages that had started to be abandoned.

You smiled slightly, you stood and picking up your bag, ready to leaving the park soon. Taking a small step into the exit.

You didn't know, Ellie noticed your existence right after she's done hugging Emma. Her eyes locked on your gestures, she didn't move even for an inch. As you get up from the bench, she did the same thing like she was about to take her step to you.

Oh, she did it anyway. Your wallet dropped without your knowledge. Ellie told Emma to wait for a minute and hurried over to you. She picked up your wallet and noticed the Polaroid of you and her from when she took you to the beach before. Something stirred in her chest as she wondered why you still held onto the Polaroid despite her having hurt you by avoiding you like a completely stranger.

"Hey, your wallet dropped," she tapped your shoulder twice, before you turned around.

You were surprised, Ellie was right standing in front of you. After all these months of being a stranger to each other, she showed up suddenly. You cleared your throat, took the wallet immediately, and put it in your bag. "Thanks," you said.

Everything went quiet again between you two, none of you were talking or leaving.

You felt like the goodbye was screaming in the silence. You seeing the visions of the past, maybe you just got her longing glances while Emma got her rings. You huffed, doesn't know if this was the last time you'd see her or not.

"Ellie," her smile disappeared as you called her name.

"Is it okay if I tell you that I still love you even though we haven't talk since Emma came to Boston? I'm sorry, Ellie. But I couldn't bear my feelings," you confessed to her, all those words just out from your mouth.

With furrowed eyebrows, she averted her gaze before fixing it on yours. "And would it be too late if I told you that I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for these past few months, even after avoiding you? God, I wish I could have told you sooner."

Your eyes widened. Just before you could say something, she left, leaving you all alone with her words lingering in your mind until God knows when.

a/n: i made this because i just found out that the girl that i had a crush on for months already have a girlfriend <3 (i've been crying nonstop) ANYWAY big thanks to taylor swift for the names <33333

#⋆˚࿔ nothingtolose 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #tlou2 #ellie tlou2 #lesbian #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader

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