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#what do you mean this isn’t exactly how it went down
colormepurplex2 · 2 days
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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag
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↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,286 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist
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Jungkook
Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.
“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.
“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.
Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”
Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.
Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.
After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.
It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.
Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.
There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.
💔💔💔
Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.
Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.
You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.
“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.
Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.
“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.
“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.
Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.
“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.
“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.
Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.
“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”
You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.
That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.
“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.
“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”
You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”
“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”
Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.
As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.
Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.
You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.
“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.
You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”
“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”
Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.
“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.
Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.
“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”
“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.
Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.
Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.
Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.
“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.
“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.
“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.
You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.
“It’s, uh…”
“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”
You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”
They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.
You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.
“Isn’t that right?” he asks.
“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.
“You’re healthy.”
That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”
“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.
“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”
“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”
The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.
“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.
“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. 
Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”
“I’d do it.”
Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.
“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.
“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.
You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.
“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.
“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”
Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”
Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”
“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”
“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.
“Um, no. You know I don’t—”
“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.
“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.
Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”
“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.
“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”
Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”
“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”
Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”
“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.
You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”
“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.
“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”
Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.
Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.
“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.
“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.
Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.
You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.
It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.
Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”
“Hm? Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”
You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”
Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.
Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.
But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?
“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”
Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”
“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.
“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”
She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.
“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”
There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.
Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”
Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”
“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”
“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.
Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”
“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.
“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.
Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.
“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”
Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.
“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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!”
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Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist  
◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2
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vinillain · 1 day
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Great wave chapter 2 spoilers// analysis cuz ahahahaha Adamai… when I get you…
Alr, rant because I’m the biggest Yugo & Adamai fan of all time. And I overanalyzed this chapter to death.
And how the way Adamai treats Yugo is one of the main reasons he’s distant from Amalia.
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This pattern of behavior isn’t new, in s4 he was quick to come to Yugo’s defense when Nora was chastising him. Using words like “we” and because both of them were still feeling the euphoria of their reconciliation came to each-others defense in a new unfamiliar environment. But after he sees how shady and “heroic” their family is he ops to leave, and does so without explaining himself (about the dofus) to Yugo or trys to convince him to come along. Something he definitely would have done in s1-2. (And this is because they have grown so far apart the bond they once had is distant, albeit still there)
This behavior is similar, and again appears here in their entire conversation.
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Yugo who was brooding and trying to be alone after his vision is greeted by Adamai, who IS genuinely worried about Yugo, since Yugo now carries the dofus of their people he and Adamai’s bond is “strengthened tenfold” allowing him to “almost hear his thoughts” and definitely feel his fear and dark feelings. And he immediately calls Yugo out when he tries to hide how upset he was (which tbh he likely does because of Adamai’s next reaction in a bit, meaning this is a common cycle)
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Eventually after some talk Yu breaks down and is honest that he isn’t okay. That his visions terrified him, and here Adamai isn’t dismissive right off the bat, he states that he could feel how bad it was because of their bond, and knew it must have been bad if it shook Yugo up this much
And Yugo tells him about the vision and how “I am the cause.” To which Adamai questions as he seems to think internally, and Yugo like in chapter one with Amalia doesn’t question anything, again he only says “It was real.”
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(I am roughly paraphrasing their dialogue so it’s not 100% accurate)
At this point Adamai scoffs at him to which Yugo who’s still upset by his vision flips out on him starting an argument. Asking if he “bores” Adamai
And Adamai tells him he needs to think with his head. He possesses the power of a god and can’t afford to think with emotions. Which is true, TOT said that Adamai was the logic to Yugo’s actions. He is the thought and the anchor, but while he isn’t wrong for saying this, the way he went about it is making things worse, but it also it makes sense why he did act this way towards Yugo.
Adamai is not someone who bases his feelings on emotions anymore.
He’s spent his entire childhood training and getting ready to meet Yugo and find their people. After the loss of Grougal he has spent his entire life trying to fill the void with an adult parental figure who holds power and wisdom that can help him achieve his goals the way he knows mortals can’t. Hence the “we needed someone with more guidance” like in s4 to Yugo. We don’t see exactly what happened to him from the OVA’s-s3. But we know it had a drastic change on him physically and especially mentally. And a big part of that is that he essentially became a vessel to their peoples dofus. In order to cope with his own trauma and feelings and taking on that responsibility of all this power he surprised any emotions or feelings that could cause him to act rash or get in the way of his main goals.
And when he did let his emotions take over because of his blind rage, he ended up hurting people he cared about which left him even more apprehensive to show any ever again. (Hence why he left his newly found family in s4) But in doing this to such an exstent the way he does, he never actually solves any personal problems of conflicts. Especially with his loved ones. He can’t rekindle his bond with Yugo or try to fix their relationship because he refuses to show any vulnerability. Which makes sense after he was left behind, betrayed and hurt so many times, and more so when he realized that he hurt others in his own pain. He doesn’t want to get hurt or hurt others again.
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And as he states, Yugo has power beyond any mortal comprehension. He now carries the weight and responsibility of their people, and their siblings dofus. Honestly just their peoples future in general. He holds power, power many people want to steal from him or rid him of. Adamai compares Yugo’s situation to how he had to handle the dofus. That he needs to swallow any emotions and think logically. Which he has always done more out of the two of them. Vulnerability is a weakness to him. And Adamai doesn’t want Yugo to get hurt or hurt others like he has in the past.
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He is cruel and harsh in his words. Telling Yugo he does “bore” him. And completely downplays his twin’s feelings because he sees them as being weak. But he DOES care about Yugo, in his eyes Yu will end up suffering more if he shows this vulnerability. It’s why he is mean and tells Yugo he can’t be acting like a child when he has all this responsibility and power in his hands. This isn’t the same when they were little kids, the stakes for them and their people are much hire now.
But to Yugo, who’s tried to fix their relationship countless times, is naturally upset at this. He feels unheard, that’s he’s being over dramatic and that his feelings don’t matter. That he isn’t allowed to be upset at his own trauma. Which is something i think paralells Goddess Eliatrope. How people dismiss her feelings and say she’s overreacting. That she needs to “get over herself” because she is a great goddess with all this power. Etc. something I hope we see more with Yugo aswell.
Being a king already isolates him enough, being a demigod with all this power does so even more. To Yugo, Adamai is the only one he can turn too when he’s upset. It’s why he was so desperate to find him in s3. Over growing old and being immortal. The problems that mortals can’t comprehend. (Something that definitely upsets him because the more power and godhood he gains the more distance he has between himself and his loved ones.) But when he opens up to Adamai about his fears and issues he is shut down or ignored. And that’s why he won’t open up to Amalia. If Ad dismisses and scoffs at his feelings then why should he try to open up to her? He adores and loves Amalia and fears the rejection she might give him. It’s why the moment she was slightly dismissive with her “Calm down, it was just a dream” he immediately leaves to be alone. He already has to deal with Adamai, he doesn’t want her to do it to him too.
But by doing this he is hurting her too. Like him Amalia is STRESSED beyond belief. She has a ton of weight and responsibility on her shoulders. And she can’t manage the conflicts of her people (especially with the eliatropes) If Yugo isn’t there to help her, If Yugo won’t be vulnerable to her. If he doesn’t trust her or won’t rely on her with his problems then how can she? How can she be open with him if he runs away from her at the deepest issues when they share so much intimacy and love.
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Their is already clear tension among the Sadida’s and the (VERY FEW) Eliatropes who now live among them. Many are unhappy with the changes, some openly voicing how “Armand would never have allowed this” suggesting they don’t like Yugo as their king either. And the old man talking about how he lost his son in the war, that the eliatropes haven’t faced sacrifice. (And this is despite that fact that they don’t know anything about their past or the war they went through, how they lost their own families- claiming they don’t understand Sadidan culture or tradition but never trying to learn the other sides either.)
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Communication is the key to relationships. Being open and vulnerable is how we understand eachother. Something reflected in the main three so far and the Sadidans+Eliatropes. Yugo keeps shutting Amalia out because of how Adamai treats him. Creating this endless cycle of distrust among the two and it’s reflected in their own people. Both could be amazing rulers and created a better place if they were both open with each-other. But they won’t, and unless Adamai and in turn Yugo open up and show vulnerability. They don’t have to show all of it, trust is slowly gained. Little by little in a healthy manner. But if Yugo doesn’t then the discourse and tension will continue to grow among all their people. (And if you’ve seen the teaser for a certain upcoming chapter you can see how that’s going 😭😭😭)
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Anyway, in conclusion: someone please get them therapy
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peapod20001 · 7 months
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When I love a song, I’ll love it forever
#random post#smth i thought about earlier. yknow. I have a hard time picking favorites with literally everything#I also have what I SAY is a favorite of mine. but I have a hard time really pinpointing whats number 1 in my brain#like. I love lots of things. I like different aesthetics and clothing and art mediums and movies and shows and books and music and people#but it’s difficult trying to find the favorite. some things are easier cus there’s more that I DONT like so it kinda singles out an option#like with music. I love LOTS of music. but what does it mean when smth is a favorite? I don’t have a favorite genre cus I have songs I love#from all over. even ones I haven’t heard yet. music overall is one of my favorite things. I’m not joking when I say it’s a love language#I love the melodies and beats and rhythms and lyrics and voices. always and forever will have a place in my heart and mind#I hate questions that want to know favorites. isn’t it enough to just show you instead? to share everything with you? why do you need one#single thing to know exactly who I am? wouldn’t you get me better if you spent a day with me instead?#I can’t remember everything of importance to me. not all in one single moment. if I went through my playlists and told you what songs I love#and why. what books I love and why. what anything I love and why. you’d find that I’m a bit undefined. I’m an artist and a creator. strong#yet weak imagination. sometimes think better in the abstract and other times do better with what’s set in stone#I love sharing things with people. I wish people would engage more with what I share sometimes. but I never hold it against em or hate them#if they don’t haha. often I feel down when ppl don’t engage with what I share. I know people aren’t obligated to do things but. yknow. it’s#my heart in a platter. splayed our for everyone. bits of me I want to share. what I want people to see. I’ve sat down with people to share#music I like. one friend said a song I like was scary. some people make faces at what I play. some have paid it no mind at all. they don’t#even know how important to me sharing something like that is. hell. how important me sharing ANYTHING is. it’s so easy to hide away#everything about myself. yet here I am trying my hardest to open myself up. yea. wish I was able to connect with someone like that#in person I mean. I guess. I just want to lay down with someone and play music we love. explain why we love it. or try to understand why#idk I’m getting rambly. I just want to do new things forever. and relive the first time everytime#this isn’t a vent or anything. just thinking and writing as I do. typing helps me to keep my mind on track. a bit at least. as much as one#with a brain like mine can havagahhaga. I wonder if anyone actually reads through my tag rambles in their entirety. I know it looks daunting#so I don’t blame you if you can’t or don’t feel like it. it won’t kill me if my words are lost in the void#haha anyways yea :> thinking lots
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slutforleeminho · 5 months
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“i wanna try something.” you breathed out between the hot and messy kisses you were giving minho, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pulling your hips down against his clothed bulge. he was already so hard, it amazed you how you could do the bare minimum and he would be fully erect in just minutes.
“whatever you want, baby.” he looked at you with so much love and admiration. that’s how he always responded to your requests, inside and outside the bedroom. ‘whatever you want, if i have it it’s yours.’ and then he’d kiss you until you forgot what it was you were even asking of him.
“you don’t even know what it is yet. how can you be so sure that you’ll want to?” you moved away from his lips to his neck, leaving little love bites as you went. he sighed when you sucked on the little sensitive spot behind his ear.
“oh baby, it isn’t in my blood to say no to you, especially when you’re sitting on top of me like this. you could tie me down to this bed right now and take me however you wanted and i wouldn’t refuse.” his brows were furrowed and eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin. he looked so fucked out, which made you wonder if he was just saying those things and not actually meaning them. but you refused to pass this moment up without at least trying. so you sat straight up, separating your top half from his. his eyes shot open and searched you face for the answer as to why you stopped. “did i say something wrong? i’m sorry, love, i didn’t-”
“no, you said exactly what i wanted to hear.” you smirked down at him, waiting for him to realize what you meant and when his eyes widened and you felt his dick twitch through his thin sweatpants you knew he understood. “would you like that? for me to cuff you this bed and have my way with you,” you asked in the most innocent voice you could, a big contrast to your words. “use you however i please.” your words went straight to his throbbing cock.
“yes. fuck, baby please.” his eyes were full of lust and anticipation, his voice so quiet and submissive that you didn’t recognize this person under you at all. you didn’t respond verbally, settling on silently removing yourself from his lap and stripping him of all remaining clothing. you didn’t get naked yourself until the pair of handcuffs you kept in your bedside table were safely securing his wrists to the bed frame above his head. when you did take your clothes off you did so very slowly, taking your time just to see him squirm. Minho didn’t take his eyes off of you once, not until you were back on top of him and the tip of his pulsing cock was pressed against your entrance. he threw his head back and sighed before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. at least not so soon.
you took in everything about this moment, not wanting to forget anything about it. the way the veins that ran down his arms bulged, to the way he twitched every now and then, seemingly very worked up. his chest rising and falling violently, you’ve never seen him like this, so…. so submissive and pliant. it made you want to eat him alive. you ran your hands up his torso, feeling his hot skin against the palm of your hands. a little whine escaped his lips when you grazed his nipples with your fingernails. his hips rutted up into you, resulting in his swollen tip slipping inside of you. he gasped from the sudden stimulation and raised them higher in search of more. you took both of his nipple in between your fingers and and pinched them. he winced from the pain and looked at you with confusion all over his face.
“bad boy,” his eyes widened. “ i didn’t say you could do that.” you didn’t know why you had said that and immediately regretted it. minho was always the dominant one in your relationship, the one who called the shots, the one who called you a bad girl. and that’s why you were in complete shock when he uttered a quiet “i’m sorry.” you tried to hide your surprise the best you could and continue with your switched roles. “how will you make it up to me?” he scanned the room as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere, and apparently it was cause his eyes lit up as he quickly turned his head to look at you.
“sit on my face.”
“hmmm,” you pretended to think about it. “should i?” he quickly nodded and you chuckled at his eagerness. the thought did have you clenching so you moved up his body until your thighs were on either side of his head. his eyes sparkled as he stared at your dripping sex, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. he looked starved and he just found the perfect meal, so he lifted his head in attempt to attach his lip to your core. he only made it so far before you yanked his head back by his hair. “once again, not asking for permission,” your whole brain chemistry was altered when he basically sobbed, a little tear sliding down the side of his face. “i should punish you,” you were loving this a little too much. “but that will have to wait.” he opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off by completely sitting on his mouth. he didn’t miss a beat before devouring, running his tongue through your folds before nipping and sucking harshly on your clit. his hands were balled up into fists and pulling away from the cuffs, his biceps flexing from the strain on his muscles. the veins on his arms were protruding and you couldn’t keep yourself from running a finger over them, tracing out the greenish blue lines. his skin was on fire, almost too hot for you to touch. almost.
you mindlessly started grinding down on his tongue, riding his face for your own pleasure. you weaved your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you, chasing after the euphoric feeling you knew only he could give you. and after a few more thrusts of his tongue and sucking hard on your clit one last time, you were coming. chest heaving and moaning his name like it’s the only thing you knew. once you came down and moved off of his face minho took a deep breath of air and only then you realized you almost suffocated the poor boy. “aww i’m sorry baby, could you not breathe?” you held the side of his face, wiping away your arousal from the corner of his mouth. he was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer you but that was fine you’d get an answer out of him.
you sank down on his cock completely without so much as a warning. “ah- baby wait- i wasn’t- fuck i wasn’t ready.”
“i don’t need your permission.” you ground yourself against him. he threw his head back against the pillows and arched his back.
“if you keep going i’m gonna come. so please… stop.” he pleaded, his voice was so quiet which was very unlike him, so you knew he was telling the truth, he was about to explode.
“you want me to stop?” you went from grinding to full on bouncy on him now.
“ahh fuck i’m coming!” his eyes screwed shut, bracing himself for quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. only for it to be ripped away. his eyes shot open. “why’d you stop?!” he looked infuriated with you, he was so close why would you take that away from him?
“you told me to stop.” you smirked at him. “why? did you want to come? i’m so, so sorry.” you were talking to him like a baby, pouting down at him like he was a child. “well i guess we can consider that your punishment.”
“uncuff me.” he demanded. “now.”
“oh baby i’d love to.” you grinned. “ but i’m not finished with you yet.”
.
.
.
i’m back!!!!! did you miss me?
taglist: @bangchansbae @yumiblogs @fawnpeaks
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byoldervine · 18 days
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Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)
1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out
Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on
2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page
RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable
3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it
Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them
4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt
Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else
5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference
Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on
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teeskz · 1 month
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¡Arriba! : “Enjoying this dirty night to escape.”
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» pairing: fem!reader x OT5 (kim hongjoong, jeong yunho, choi san, song mingi, jung wooyoung)
» summary: being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.
» w.c: 12.5k (was not aiming for this number, but this what you get)
» genre & warnings: college au, alcohol consumption, heavy kissing, oral (m. & f. receiving), tit sucking, leaving of hickies, praises, corruption, voyeurism SO MUCH, humiliation kink (reader gets embarrassed a lot), teasing, reader c*ms untouched, BUKAKKE (look it up if you don’t know what it means), no intercourse in here but there’s a shit ton of other stuff, spit mention? titty!obsessed yunho, unknown obsession w/ reader, pussydrunk wooyoung, if i were to make a pt. 2, it would be a gang bang, just saying.
» a/n: this is the first edition of my T!TS UP series, hopefully it was worth the wait! (im so so sorry for taking 19 days to upload this, yes i counted how long since i posted that teaser🙏)
» LINK TO T!TS UP SYNOPSIS HERE
» taglist: @mingyuslice @facioleeknow @sharksandminhos @yakosobaboba @xcynthiaaa @hyukssunflower @tiny-apocalypse @pearltinyy @therealcuppicake @kxrta @hrts4hanniehae @softwsan @certifiedmoa @stayskz143 @isabel-018
if your name is crossed off, i still couldn’t find you
| Pt.2 Out Now
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Mmmm, no that’s not right either.
The bites on your pencil has increased significantly as you start to chew on the end, never have being so stumped at a problem before.
You’d been rolling through your homework with ease, and even finding somewhat joy at solving these difficult questions. The answers were just flowing right out of you. Until this one.
What if I squared- wait, that doesn’t work for these kinds of theories.
You stare at the paper.
But I’ve reduced the ratio up until here, so how come………….oh!
Instant eagerness returns as you quickly realize what went wrong. And just in the matter of a few seconds, you’re able to work out the rest of the problem and eventually submit your homework.
Sighing happily, you reach your arms up to stretch and straighten out your back. Sitting at the same desk for the past 3 hours, although comfortably, has been draining. Goodness, were you ready for a much needed break.
Fixing your hair, you stand up, your pajama pants falling to the ground and begin scuffling to your communal bathroom.
Sharing with 3 other girls has its difficulties, you won’t deny that, but on Saturday nights like this where all 3 are out -and probably won’t be home till the next morning- you were thankful to get the space all to yourself.
You do your business, wash your hands and right as you step back into your room, a low rumble emits from below. It’s your stomach practically yelling for food.
Oh, that’s another bad habit of yours. Since often you’d find yourself getting so caught up in your workload, more times than not, you wind up forgetting to eat. And also sometimes pee.
Even as you check your nearby clock resting on the night stand, reading 12:49 AM, determination, and maybe the high you still rode from solving that problem, drives you to venture out for food.
So, that’s exactly what you do.
Throwing on some fuzzy slippers, you don’t bother putting on a shirt to cover your tank, believing it’ll take you less than 5 minutes to find a simple vending machine and head back.
Quietly, you open your door and peer down both ends of the corridor. Both are equal distance from a couple of machines close by, so just choosing whatever, you make a left and patter down the hall.
As you’re walking, you can’t help but notice a sort of stillness in the air, one that you can’t quite pinpoint. Like everyone’s disappeared and you’re the only one left.
You finally reach the end and walk into the common area, where on most days are packed, but for tonight is eerily quiet. The vending machine glows off into the corner and your tummy croaks in gratefulness.
Hmm, what am I in the mood for? Ambling over, you stop in front of it and ponder. I could get something simple like the cookie package. Or maybe the baked chips, I think those are good.
So many options, you’re getting overwhelmed. As you continue scanning through your options, you unexpectedly get filled with the sounds of footsteps shuffling across the hard floor, and soon a boy comes into view from the far side of the room.
“Always have to do everything myself.” He’s grumbling to himself, eyes pointed downwards as he scratches the back of his head.
Your eyes are wide as you just stare at him walking closer and closer to you, till eventually the boy glances up and you two lock eyes. And it’s then you recognize him.
“Kim Hongjoong?” Your voice raises at the end as you’re genuinely surprised at his presence. He’s a senior in one of your classes, Ethics, and wow, is it shocking to see him here.
From what you know, he doesn’t live in this housing unit nor have you ever seen him around. So, what’s he doing here? His own face contorts with shock while his legs slow to a halt, tilting his head to the side.
“Y/N, what a surprise,” Starting with your head, his gaze takes notice to your attire and travels downwards, “You just wake up?”
You follow his eyes and try to suppress the sheer amount of embarrassment rising inside of you, “Oh- um, no…”
“Needed a late night snack?” He tries again, a small corner tugging up at his lips.
You lift your head and couldn’t help the sheepish grin spreading wide, “Mmm.”
Hongjoong lets out a short laugh, “Understandable. My friends were craving those powdered donuts and cookies, and tasked me with getting them.”
“Ooh!” You turn towards the snack display and regard the white packaging, “I could get the donuts.”
He watches your expression change from quizzical to astonishment, and his eyebrows scrunch. As if you’re a puzzle and he’s having difficulty figuring you out.
He murmurs before shifting just a slight bit closer to you, “What’re you doing up anyways? I didn’t peg you as the night owl type.”
The smile you bore remains on your face, moving your head back to the boy, “When I got done with my homework, my stomach was growling.”
“Growling.” He repeats, an amused tone to his sentence.
“Growling.” You emphasize again and he could only offer a nod.
He waits a beat before going to speak, “It’s Saturday, though.”
Looking back at him, you meekly shrug, not really seeing what that had to do anything, then rotate again to the vending machine, “Yeah, perfect time to get it done. None of my roommates are home so it’s easier to concentrate.”
Hongjoong hums at your words, “All by yourself, then? Isn’t it lonely?”
“Well,” When phrasing it like that, you find it does put a minor dip in your mood, “I’m always too caught up in my assignments to really notice.”
Instead of immediately responding to you, he allows your words to hang in the air. You think you might’ve just said something out of the ordinary, glancing back to Hongjoong in an attempt to reexplain, when you notice him staring at your backside.
Then, without warning, you feel a pinch at the fabric of your waistband. A soft gasp escapes your lips as warm fingers pull at your pants and tug them upwards, “Y/N, your pajama’s are so cute. You can’t have them lopsided like that.”
You’re a deer in headlights while he goes to meet your eyes. As his gaze lingers on you, you find it more than difficult to reciprocate the action. Your cheeks feel hot, and the stutter that quickly comes when going to answer further shows your awkwardness, “O-Oh, um…”
The spot still burns from where he had touched you and it makes you lose your train of thought. It isn’t until your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a distraction, and catch glimpse of the powdered donuts in the machine, “What-what about your friends? They’re waiting for you still, right? You should be con-considerate of them, and bring them back their snacks.”
Hongjoong takes in your new demeanor, with him watching your body language, and god, are you something else. How swiftly you go from advocating for yourself, excitement radiating from you, to a stumbling mess of words; it actually fascinates him.
“Right,” he follows in your footsteps and puts attention back to the donuts, the fond smile on his lips evermore growing, “They did want me back quick.”
“Yes, yes.” You affirm in a more stern manner, hoping this copes with your unsure state.
“I’ll just tell them I got distracted by something cute.” He caps off his statement with a glance over at you and you look back at him, a stunned expression present.
He does a once over at your outfit, “Your pants.”
You now understand what he means and respond by shaking your head ‘yes’. Because of course he was referring to your pants.
This time, an audible laugh emits from the boy. He has to throw a hand over his face to stop himself from showing too much of his teeth. Fuck, he is finding so much entertainment from this.
You don’t fully comprehend what’s happening, or why Hongjoong’s outwardly making claims such as this. In all honesty, this is probably the most interaction you’ve had with him in all four months of knowing the Senior, and you’ve come to realize: he’s pretty odd.
“I should-” You start right as Hongjoong goes to speak.
“You should come back to my friend’s dorm with me. It’ll be fun with you there.”
And further embarrass yourself? Absolutely, not.
“I can’t- I shouldn’t,” you bring your hands to fumble around with the hem of your tank and deliberately avoid eye contact with him, “It’s late and I was planning on heading to um..bed soon….so it- I shouldn’t.”
When you finally drag your eyes up to Hongjoong, the friendly expression he wears somehow puts you at an instant ease, “Just stop by. And then if you wanna leave, I’ll walk you back to your dorm. That sound okay?”
The way he spoke, so nonchalant and so caring, honestly made you feel stupid. Like you have no reason to feel insecure.
But this was all new for you. You don’t hang out with friends, you don’t go out on Saturday nights, that’s not you. And you don’t have a problem with it. At least, you hadn’t before.
Then, here comes this boy, who extends an invite to you. He’s giving you a chance to venture outside of your safety room. He sees you. So, albeit hesitantly, you make an internal decision to join him. Plus, you knew well you weren’t actually going to sleep.
“That..that actually sounds nice.” You agree, and Hongjoong grins.
As he goes to answer you, he’s reaching into his back pocket in search of the crumpled bills he later pulls out, “Let me get the guys their snacks, then we can head over there.”
You step back and allow him to cut in front of you. He shoves the money into the slot, enough to get multiple things of junk, and you watch as he requests 2 packages of the donuts and a package of cookies.
Once they all drop to the bottom, Hongjoong bends down to the retrieve the snacks.
“Oh, you got two-?” Him shoving one of the donuts in your hand cause you to pause.
“Here, since it’s my fault you’re craving them now.” He states and you take the snack with gratefulness. You thank him graciously and he simply rejects it, claiming it really was no big deal, then starts to make strides back to the dormitory and you follow behind.
The two of you twists around a corridor and walk down what seems like a never-ending hallway.
“You’re too kind, Hongjoong. Inviting me out, buying me stuff.” You quietly gush behind your senior while he holds in a chuckle. You’re too cute.
“Really, I don’t mind one bit.” He slows down once he’s in front of a room and so do you, assuming that his friend’s dorm is the one with the white board that has ‘WE’RE NOT BEING LOUD, YOU’RE JUST QUIET.’ written in big, bolded letters on the door.
The sounds of faint bickering could be heard from the other side so slowly, you peer towards Hongjoong, "Is everything okay?"
He's harboring a somber gaze then lets out a slow, controlled sigh, "Knowing them, probably not."
With that being said, he grabs hold of the handle before throwing the door in, announcing your guys' entrance.
The sight you're met with is unruly, though quickly you take notice of how familiar you are with every single person in the room.
There sat in nearby chairs are Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi, both from your History class, cackling at the scene unfolding right before their eyes of Choi San and Jung Wooyoung slapping and throwing hits at one another.
Choi San is an English major just like you, and you've known Jung Wooyoung since high school. But, wow, you hadn't realized they all new each other.
"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.
"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."
"What the fuck are you two doing?" Hongjoong rushes over to deescalate the situation. He shoves Choi San into a corner and rolls Jung Wooyoung the other way, "I wasn't even gone for that long and already you guys try to kill each other."
At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.
You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.
“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.
All pairs of eyes briskly dart to you, some bearing perplexed expressions, others with stunned looks as there you stood, pajama’s and all, in the middle of Jung Wooyoung’s dormitory.
“Why’re you here?” Choi San adds and right as you go to respond to them, Hongjoong’s quick to answer for you, retracting his hands off of the boys and pushing himself up.
“We met at the vending machines, and I invited her back.” He’s sauntering over to you now, an all-knowing smirk in place. He leans down just a smidge when he’s inches away from your face and lowly speaks, “Want me to tell them about the distraction?”
You instantly hip at that, whatever calm manner you had dissipating by the second. It wasn’t subtle either as everyone eyes you and Hongjoong’s encounter.
“She didn’t have anything else to do, and was more than happy to come here.” He continues while his gaze stays on your face.
“I…” You open your mouth as if you have something to follow up with, but then instantly close it and opt to let Hongjoong’s reply suffice. For the most part, that is pretty much what happened.
After the wave of confusion from the boys, comes a round of cheers. They’re all welcoming you in as Hongjoong walks you over to the group, and you’ve never felt more comfortable yet red-faced in your life.
You plop down on the floor between Mingi and Yunho, both of them inches above you in rolling chairs, and enjoy the swellness of want being produced from everyone, they want you here.
“Did you just wake up?” Wooyoung asks as he scoots his way back over to the rest of the group, and you shake your head ‘no’.
“She’s been up all night doing homework.” Hongjoong smiles from the far corner and the response brings in a collection of oh’s.
“You’re so smart,” San coos while sprawling himself out on the floor, him now laying on his side and propping his head up with a hand, “Wanna help me out with my shit?”
Before you could speak up, a package of cookies get thrown at his back, a burst of laughter filling the air. San yelps from the impact and the culprit, Hongjoong, wades his way closer to everyone.
“Don’t go dragging Y/N into your bullshit, do it yourself.” The Senior throws the other package of donuts to Yunho, who catches it effortlessly, then takes a seat right behind San on the floor.
Instead of arguing, San simply huffs and goes to grab at and eat the cookies while the rest of the group moves forward in conversation.
“So, what’ve you guys been up to tonight?” You gaze around the room, asking your first set of questions, only to get unexplainable looks in return from the bunch. They all stop making eye contact with you and glance at one another with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.
There’s a beat of silence when a nudge from a foot draws your attention to Mingi, who’s at first biting his lip but then releases it with narrow eyes, “You a snitch?”
“A…snitch?” You parrot, staring up into his face then softly shake your head no. The boys couldn’t get enough of your reactions.
Yunho’s mouth goes thin as he forces himself to look away from you right as Wooyoung watches you attentively. Just like to Hongjoong, you were an interesting thing to them, someone that intrigued them like no other.
And wouldn’t that make for an interesting night?
“Alright then,” Mingi concludes and San sits up, extending a hand underneath the bed. Before you could ask for a further explanation, a near-full bottle of alcohol gets pulled out then tossed to the middle of the mini circle you all have formed.
You regard the bottle with shock. Any form of alcohol is strictly prohibited on campus, and here in front of you lies tangible proof of it.
“Who put it underneath the bed?” Hongjoong inqueries while going in to reach for the drink. He’s eyeing San while unscrewing the cap, as San stares daggers at Mingi.
“Dumbass over here kicked it underneath there.”
“Yeah, fucking big foot.” Wooyoung interjects earning him and threatening look from Mingi.
“Ah,” Hongjoong, after getting the bottle opened, takes a big swig of the liquid, downing it with ease, “Was wondering where it went when Y/N and I came in here.”
A part of your heart raced at the actions unfolding. He passes the bottle off to Wooyoung, only after teasing him for it, then you listen as everyone scolds Wooyoung for being a hog. Out the corner of his eye, however, Yunho notices you fidget.
“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Yunho shifts to amorously watch you, drawn into your well-known rule follower persona, “You’ve never seen alcohol before?”
You feel all eyes turn to you as they await an answer. Of course you’ve seen alcohol before, knew what it is. Does he think you live under a rock? But still, the sight of it leaves a twinge bit of nervousness in the pit of your stomach.
“I have, actually.” Scatteredly, you bounce between looking at the boys while trying to sound steady, “I know my roommates like that a lot.”
“Yeah?” Wooyoung beams then leans in to place the bottle in the space between your legs, “Feeling like trying some now?”
You look down at it with uncertainty. You know this is wrong, this is so, completely, wrong, “Uh….”
“Don’t be scared.” San encourages, a tiny smirk taking over, and soon a ripple of motivation circulates throughout the room. The guys are all murmuring small praises, yet keeping watchful eyes on you, testing you.
One of your hands lifts to grab hold of the bottle’s neck, the other holding the bottom for support. You scan over the glass warily then hesitantly glance up to the others, “Do I just…”
You mock an action of drinking it which earns you a laugh from Hongjoong, “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Come on,” Mingi rests a palm on the back of your head, stroking you smoothly. The movement is so comforting that you don’t even realize him taking strands of your hair to wrap around his fingers, then ever so slowly he tilts your head backwards.
Instinctively, you raise your arms to guide the alcohol closer to you, and without another moment to think about it, you pour a stream of the lukewarm liquid down your throat.
“That’s it, just like that.” Yunho mutters sweetly as you continue spilling it down your throat, not really knowing when to stop.
Quickly, the burning catches up to you and reactively, you stop pouring the bitter alcohol and shoot your head forward, grimacing from the taste. Although it’d felt like you just inhaled a gallon of hand sanitizer, the congratulatory spurs, courtesy of the guys, makes up for it. They were proud of you, and it made you feel good.
San holds out his hand to you, indicating he wanted to be next, “Took it like a champ, Y/N. Good job.”
You lend the bottle to him and almost instantly, you swiftly make note of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Eyes big, a thump of reality hits you and deeply, you take in a breath while returning to your spot. Woah.
The passing of the bottle lasted for about the next 30 minutes, everyone taking turns in drinking. When it’d be close to your turn, you’d find yourself anticipating the action. Then when it came your time, all over again, you down the drink, make the most disgusted face, then hand it off to Mingi. And some time during it all, you had demolished those donuts Hongjoong supplied you with.
It’s exhilarating, the situation you’re in. It’s thrilling how you’re being commended for doing something defying. And you come to realize: maybe you actually needed a night like this.
“So, uh,” you start with a faint smile on your face, “Is this all you guys do? Drink and sit in a circle?”
Wooyoung has now made his way over to your lap, resting his head on top of your soft thigh, “Mmhmm. Sometimes, we’ll talk about other people too.”
“Oh, fun.” You smile but your attention gets captured by Mingi waving a hand out.
He’s attempting to get Wooyoung’s notice despite his lack of verbiage, “Yah, yah, what-uh…what was that game you had? That one you said we didn’t have enough players for?”
Wooyoung fails to move, instead choosing to keep his eyes shut and body close to you, “Who’s he talking to?”
A kick from Yunho sends him flying at that response, rolling off of you and makes him land on his back. You laugh amusingly as Wooyoung stumbles around to stand up.
“Okay, fine!” He whines, wavering around slightly while heading to his closet, “You guys have a fucking problem.”
Hongjoong’s laying with his back to the floor, chest up to the ceiling and yields his head to face you, “He’s always trying to get us to play this stupid game.”
“But we’ve never had enough players.” Yunho buzzes, moving from his spot in the chair to the open ground next to you.
“Not until our Y/N decided to join.” San’s tracing the exposed part of your ankle from your pants riling up, and you offer a content ‘mmm’.
“Got it.” Wooyoung uses a palm to shut the closet door, then comes back to the group with a small, red box in hand.
“What game is it?” You inquiry, bringing your head closer to the box when Wooyoung takes a spot in the middle of Hongjoong and Yunho.
Hongjoong peers over to him and begins reading off of the label, “Tits….Up.”
“The hell is this?” Mingi has the bottle currently and is resting his arms against his thighs, gripping the bottle in one hand. If you wanted to lean back, you’d touch his leg, that’s how close he is to you.
“It’s- It’s a drinking game,” Wooyoung studies the back of the box, and you happen to catch glimpse of a seductive pattern printed out on the packaging. The kissy lips are cute, you think as you aimlessly regard the box.
“So,” Yunho extends his arm out to cross in front you, the alcohol now being given to him, “How’d we play again?”
Wooyoung finally opens up the game, grabbing hold of the cards to shuffle them then instantly start to sort them out. All of the red-colored cards get grouped together, the pink-colored ones in a separate pile, then lastly the black cards lay flatly in the middle of it all.
“From what I remember, we all roll a die that tells us which color card to pick up.” He tries to grab the die out of the box but it ends up slipping out of his grip and flings towards your foot, “Whoops.”
“Ooh.” You pick it up and begin to browse, seeing the red’s and pink’s and black’s filling up different side’s of the die while the other squares have 2 ‘roll again’ and a ‘skip turn’ as the remaining options.
“Red is dare, pink is truth, and black means it’s a challenge.” Wooyoung finishes, which you could tell by him throwing down the instructions to the side of him.
“It’s just truth or dare, then?” You’re confused. If it is just truth or dare, then what’s the whole point of having this?
He shakes his head at your comment, a light laugh trickling out, “Just truth or dare? Yeah, on like steroids.”
Hongjoong retrieves the previously discarded manual and brings it to his face, “Don’t do the dares: drink, don’t do the truths: drink, don’t do the challenges: drink, drink, and drink.”
“There’s a number of shots listed at the bottom of every card, so if you choose to not do what’s on one of them then that’s the equivalent to it. That make sense?” Wooyoung explains and collectively, there’s murmurs of agreement.
“How do you win?” You perk up with a new sense of curiosity.
“Gotta have the most cards collected.” He shoots back and Hongjoong quietly confirms him.
“You only get the card if you complete what’s on it.”
“In other words, don’t be a pussy.” San teases.
Alright, you can do this. Your first drinking game, ever. Excitment’s buzzing all around you as Yunho bends down to pick up the die. So exciting.
“I’ll go first.” He says then goes to shake the cube in a closed fist. He releases the roll and all together, you watch the die travel down and around Wooyoung’s carpet, only stopping when it hits the edge of the box.
“Hmm, truth.” Hongjoong states as the rose-colored square is clearly shown upright.
Yunho reaches in to swipe one of the pink cards, turning it over, then reading aloud, “No secrets allowed, share one of your biggest turn-ons.”
Your eyebrows raise as the rest of the group hoots in await for his reply. Biggest turn on? Like…
“How many shots if you don’t answer?” Mingi asks, nodding his head in the direction of Yunho.
Yunho scans through the card till he’s at the bottom of it, “Uh, it only says one.” He says and goes to pocket the card, “That’s a fucking waste.”
You’re staring at him in awe, the suspense creeping up the walls of your stomach. What’s he gonna say? How much is he willing to expose? If you get a card like that, how much are you willing to expose?
He looks around the room while his thoughts churn, “My biggest turn on? I don’t…I guess I’ll….damn, there’s too many!”
“Just choose one.” Mingi sighs gruffly, and it’s then you decide to rest your back against his leg. It’s been brushing against your skin for some time now so, you know, maybe you need the extra support.
“Fine, just one?” Yunho catches his lip with a tooth, taking in the scenery when his eyes land on you. The eye contact doesn’t lasts too long, with him dropping his sight down briefly, too briefly for you to even wonder what he’s thinking, then he opens his mouth, “I like seeing stiff nipples through a shirt, the big, puffy ones especially. It’s so damn hot to me.”
Hongjoong immediately covers his mouth to control a snicker, San practically doing the same. Wooyoung holds in a smile and you’re left to speculate that maybe there’s something more to Yunho’s answer. And now, you’re feeling self-conscious.
“Leave Y/N alone, Yunho. You’re being a dick.” The voice behind you, Mingi, chastises.
At the mention of your name, you slowly glance down towards your chest and the embarrassment you had previously hits you like wave. You had absolutely no idea your nipples were erected, essentially sticking out miles from your tank top. They’re hard, and stiff, just like how he described them.
“Alright, fine,” Yunho throws an apologetic look your way, “But still, I’m serious. That kind of stuff turns me on.”
You want to cover yourself up, hide your chest away. You were basically flashing the boys unknowingly and yet, why does your heart start to beat irregularly? A sliver of you starts to feel shame. Is it wrong you seemingly like the attention? Enjoy the thought of knowing it was you who turned him on?
And in turn, maybe that makes you a little excited, but, a different kind. The kind you only feel when it’s late at night, your roommates are out, and have nothing but your fingers to keep you entertained.
“Should we pass it off to Y/N?” Someone questions which break you out of your state.
No way, at least not yet, “Actual- Actually, can I go last?”
The group regards you first, then pass the look off to Wooyoung who, if that’s the case, would be going next. He simply shrugs then snatches up the dice, going to roll.
In the midst of his turn, a hand is placed onto your leg, scaring you just a bit but also sending a jolt through your core, “Are you nervous now?”
San speaks quietly to you, and you look back behind your shoulder at him, “Just wanted to watch some more before I go.”
He shakes his head understandingly, but doesn’t immediately let go. It’s not until, Wooyoung announces getting ‘truth’ in which he remembers his placement on your leg. Though, he didn’t make much effort to remove himself fast.
Wooyoung’s already reading his card when you decide to hone back into the game, and you try to ignore the small build emitting inside of you. Or, is it just the alcohol? Yeah, probably just that.
“Get a good look at everyone,” He starts, “Let us know, who’s looking the most fuckable? And this one’s 2 shots if I don’t answer.”
A low ‘ooh’ rumbles in the crowd, including one from yourself. Wooyoung holds the card out to his chin, striking a ‘thinking’ pose while he examines everyone, “So hard.”
You sense your chest heaving up and down, anticipation flooding you. Wooyoung darts his eyes to one side of the room, then dramatically to other, but eventually an answer is made.
“Sannie’s been working out a lot more lately,” A sly grin spreads on Wooyoung’s face, eyeing the junior who’s currently fake flexing, and then they roll over to you, “But I think little Y/N has to be my pick. You’re just looking too good right now. So, fuckable was it?”
You ‘eep’, and before you could think, you’re throwing a hand over your face to cover the immense blush you wear. Where do these guys get off on embarrassing you like this?
He lets out a menacing laugh, knowing you’d react as such. Sometimes, he just couldn’t help himself when it came to messing with you. You just make it too easy for him.
“Wow, how’s it feel being the center of attention, Y/N?” Hongjoong smiles, taking the dice from Wooyoung’s possession and you could only offer a head shake as your reply.
San follows up next, watching you with such a fondness, “I don’t know, guys, I’m thinking she’s starting to like this.”
You drop your hands, now ready to face the group, and the intensity of your jolt worsens. It’s almost starting to feel, to feel like a throb. And instead of it residing in just your core, you could recognize it radiating to other places.
“Hongjoong, just go.” You sigh out, borderline disgusted with yourself at the new realization that you’re genuinely enjoying this. That you are getting incredibly turned on by the humiliation.
He does as you say, rolling the dice and retrieving a card after earning the first ‘dare’, but instead of reading it out loud to the rest of the group, Hongjoong looks it over in his head. His face is changing from confusion, to perplexity, then ultimately, revolution.
Placing the card back in the middle of the pile, he requests for the bottle which San hands, then takes his first shot. The rest of you guys are surprised by this decision, some of you going in to hound Hongjoong about what card he grabbed.
“Not gonna tell.” Is all he says before taking a whopping 4 swigs of alcohol back to back and shuddering every single time.
“Holy shit!” Wooyoung cackles out, amused by the older student’s willingness to not compete.
“It was worth 5 shots?” Yunho’s voice cracks and you’re left stunned. Just what was on that card?
Hongjoong tosses the die over to San, the next person to go, while he tries his best to ignore the way everyone’s watching him. No matter the looks, no matter the gazes, there’s no way in hell he’d ever reveal what was on it.
San rolls out the cube and it lands on ‘truth’. He reaches down and picks up the pink card, and unlike the senior, does read it aloud everyone, “What’s the dirtiest thing you masturbated to?”
While San lets out a disgruntled huff, Wooyoung brightens up right away, shooting an arm into the air and beaming, “Oh! Oh! I can answer this, please, let me tell them how fucking weird you are.”
“I’ll kill you,” San lowers his head, rather intimidatingly, and extends an arm out for the bottle, “It’s only 2 shots, I’ll just take that.”
Hongjoong proceeds to give him the alcohol, and San downs his shots like it was nothing. After him, is Mingi, who’s been decently far away from all of the action.
“Awww, Mingi, come down here with the rest of us. You look like a loner.” Wooyoung belittles, causing the boy behind to scoff harshly. But even then, he still does it, scooting himself off of the chair and making his way down to the ground.
You get booted off from his leg as he’s moving, though, once he has his position in front of the chair and propping himself up against that, he signals you to rest again on him, this time allowing you to lean back on his chest. He widens out his legs to get you comfortable, and now, you recline into him.
The action was so nonchalant, hardly any thought behind it, that no one even gave you two crap for it. However, they all stare enviously at the boy, “Someone give me the die.”
San fulfills his wish and does so, Mingi immediately going straight into throwing it down. The die rolls around till it lands on a red square, signaling the need for a ‘dare’. He doubles over to reach for a card, taking you down with him, and selects one of the ones at top before returning back.
He’s secretive of his card, pulling the same stunt Hongjoong did. Curiously, however, you peer over towards him. And so Mingi, all the while not taking his eyes off of the card, crosses his unoccupied arm in front of you and grabs hold of your cheek, forcibly turning you to the other side.
He mutter-reads the card softly to himself as you find humor in the way he had dealt with you, your cheek smushing against your mouth. After a period, he drops the card and extends an arm out to San, signaling him to pass the alcohol over.
“What the- you guys are pussies.” Yunho chides while Wooyoung shakes his head disapprovingly.
“Oh, booo. Y/N, do you know what this means?” He asks you, Mingi lowering his other arm so you could crane your neck back to Wooyoung.
The anxiety bubbling inside renders you clueless at the thought of knowing you’re next up, and so you stare blankly at him, “What does it mean?”
“Unless you want everything to go tits up, you need to do what’s on the cards. No matter what it says.” He finishes off his statement with a shrug, and Yunho nods encouragingly.
You feel a drop in your palm as Mingi hands you over the die, nervousness flowing through you, “I- okay.”
Your heart is pounding against your rib cage when you start to shake your enclosed hand, a mix between sweat and fear coating the cube. You release it shortly after and watch it roll around in front of you.
Eventually, the velocity of it slows and the wild spinning stops, leaving a scarlett-red square staring back at you. A ‘dare’.
“Oh, our first dare.” There’s a bite to Wooyoung’s tone, proving obvious that he's choosing to ignore the past few rounds.
San leans forward for you and grabs a card, handing it off to you, "You can do this."
You don’t even look at it immediately and instead wait until you were back against Mingi before reading it aloud to the others.
“Did someone turn up the temperatures?" you start off steadily, "Suddenly, you’re feeling hot. Have the others player choose which piece of clothing to remove, hope this helps your problem…”
Keeping your eyes locked on the words. You trail off towards the end, not finding the courage to look up knowing they're all watching you. Undressing you in their heads.
“We get to choose?” Yunho happily accepts this feat as does everyone else. They make your already rapid heart accelerate, but what’s even worse is how the stupid throb below intensifies.
Hongjoong, ever so leisurely, grabs hold of the open flap from your pajama bottoms and wiggles the fabric around, "I say we get rid of these."
San perks up excitedly at the proclamations, “I second. Y/N, you don’t need those on anymore.”
This is so wrong. So, incredibly wrong.
While you're distracted by those two, you fail to notice Mingi traveling a hand down to the waist band of your pants, lifting it up to hardly reveal the shadow of your underwear line and bare skin, “Can you take ‘em off for us?”
“Let’s go, Y/N-ie. You can’t keep us waiting.” Wooyoung pouts while also tugging at the other pant leg.
The pleads of the group grow, while your determination to not do it shrinks. God, are they making this difficult for you.
After a few more begs, and a few more touches, you break and decidedly give in, “F-Fine, I'll get these off.”
Mingi breaths out, the hand that was on your waist band slipping below to touch your smooth, outer leg. He teases the others by showing them bits and pieces of your skin, not fully pulling your pants down till Yunho comes to the other side in helps of tugging them off of you.
Collectively, they all aid in discarding your bottoms and once they’re gone, you try to suppress the urge to cover yourself. There, in full display for everyone to see, are your tight, pale yellow panties that’re always your favorite to wear to bed.
But when you’re damn-near half naked in front of a group of boys, you’re mentally scolding yourself for not wearing something more attractive; like how one of your roommates owns a lacy, black thong that you’ve seen one too many times before.
Hongjoong brings a light graze to your now exposed legs, tracing around your skin, “You’re so cute when you listen to us.”
"Look, there's even little flowers." San pokes fun at you, even going as far as pinching your underwear in a teasing manner.
“Can- Can we move on?” You’re letting out small huffs while Mingi brings a hand down to rub at your thigh.
"Aww, alright, alright. Guys, let's ease up on her." Yunho reaches over your legs to retrieve the lonely die from the ground.
The rest of the boys oblige, them returning to their spots with slick smiles on their face. Sure, they'll play the game, but just know, they're in it for the long haul.
And it’s going to get way worse than this.
Yunho gives his fist a hardy shake before releasing it to the ground. The die quickly spins before falling still and revealing a ‘skip turn’ square for all the group to see. He lets out a ‘damn’, then moves onto Wooyoung, who’s taking the cube willingly.
“It’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it.” He darts his tongue out to the side while bringing two hands to cover up the die, jiggling all around till he drops it.
It lands on red, ‘dare’, and eagerly, Wooyoung snags one of the cards from the top of the scarlett pile, “Demonstrate your oral skills on a banana or peach,” he reads with an amusement to his tone, “Or if you have the real the real thing, that’s double points.”
Your eyes close as you take a deep inhale, dreading the next words to be spoken from his lips.
"Banana or peach...." He fake ponders, stroking his chin while staring up at the ceiling, "Hmm, I guess if I have to, I'll go with the peach."
"But we don't have any on us." San makes point in which Wooyoung feigns stupidity.
"Oh, you're right Sannie. Well, then what am I supposed to do?"
Almost defeated, your eyes widen after feeling a hand cupping your ankle. Wooyoung's giving you an expression, a mix between cunning and slyness, "Y/N-ie, what do you think?"
You gape back at him, "What I- I don't think anything."
"Well, don't we have the real thing?" He quips, inching closer, and you have to physically bite you inner lip to stop a whine from coming out.
Just the thought of what he was insinuating, it's just so.....dirty that you couldn't help the way you were feeling. And you aren't sure how much more you could take.
"I...I guess technically - we do-"
"Yah, Hongjoong, what's the rule about challenges and dares that involve other players?" Wooyoung calls back and the senior's fast to respond.
"If another player's required to participate due to a card but refuses, they must be the ones to take the drink instead." He reads off of the manual so swiftly you'd almost think he has it memorized.
"Would poor Y/N rather drink than let Wooyoung show off his skills?" Yunho mocks, causing, and for the first time this evening, a tiny, nearly inaudible whimper to buzz from you.
The noise leaves the rest of the group stunned.
Wooyoung regards you and just so leisurely does he fall in between your legs, now face to face with your clothed cunt, "You'd really rather drink? I promise, I won't be too long."
"Don't leave him hanging." San nudges and the rest of the group follow in the protests.
"But I..." you quiet down, "In front of everyone?"
Hongjoong leans back on his hands, intently watching, "We don't mind."
"Just, relax." Mingi guides you to rest again on his chest, providing slack for Wooyoung to draw your hips closer. You could feel his hot breath in huffs and it's driving you mad.
"Can I? Please?" He finishes off and it's then you give him a slight nod.
"Oh, my-” Yunho groans, and you almost copy him in the way Wooyoung brings a hand up to your underwear and pushes it to side.
"I'll be...quick." He mutters, eyes tracing all around your sex. His tongue darts out then before you could react, he's sliding the wet muscle up the length of your pussy.
You gasp at the feeling. Finally, a source of stimulation for you to enjoy.
He goes in again, lapping at you till he reaches your clit and sucks on it. Waves of pleasure ripple throughout your core with each slurp of your bud. Wooyoung shifts to wrap his hands around your thigh for support as he continues going down on you.
You throw a hand over your mouth to cover the scream that was just about to be let out. And next thing you know, your hips begin circling deep into his mouth while he guzzles away at your sweet pussy.
"Damn, you don't need to fucking eat her." San scoffs, which breaks Wooyoung from the haze he was in. Absentmindedly, he pulls away from your cunt with a satisfied grin, but not before going back in to give you a quick kiss on your lips. Your pussy lips.
The action makes you quiver and if he had carried on, you were sure you would've came all over his face.
"Holy fuck." Yunho breathes out shakily and it's taking all of his strength to not palm himself like a fucking pervert in front of everyone.
Wooyoung scoots back to his original spot while you're left panting on top of Mingi. What the actual hell just happened?
"Let's check the damage." Hongjoong eyes are glazed as he's watching your fucked out expression and hell, if it doesn't turn him on.
A hand gets brought around to your front and grips the peak of your underwear, scrunching it enough to transform it into a line then scoots off to the side. Your glistening, thick cunt is now open and on display for everyone to see.
"Fuck, I'm burning this into head." San whines and subtly, not-so subtly, grabs at the loose area around his pelvis and adjusts his pants.
Mingi's still holding onto your panties as Wooyoung gloats about how good you taste in front of the group, yet your mind's distracted by some sort of growth forming on your lower back.
"Come on, Wooyoung, give me the die so we can keep on playing." Hongjoong's nearly drunk off of his own lust, the way he wants to end up in the same situation as his junior.
If there's one thing he couldn't deny, it's that lately, you have been driving all of these boys crazy.
"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N thinks of my skills," he turns to you with a self-boasting grin, "Was my game good?"
"Oh, Woo." Yunho's rolling his eyes at him. God, the last thing the group needs was Wooyoung's ego being inflated to the max.
"It was..." you take in a huff, quickly recalling the previous events, "it was good."
Wooyoung laughs lightly before going in for a lip bite, "You flatter me. But, hey, if you ever wanted a round 2, I'll get you alone and show you all of my-"
"Dare." Hongjoong interrupts, shutting the chatty boy up. You hadn't even realized he had rolled with you being too occupied in Wooyoung's proclamations.
"Is he gonna pussy out again?" Mingi mutters, mainly to you, causing you to dryly chuckle. Your head is still foggy from the timely pulses below to illicit any stronger of a reaction.
Reaching forward, Hongjoong grabs at a new card, this time actually reading it aloud, “Don’t be shy, choose a player of your choice to give a quick peck too.”
Your eyes lazily scan around the scene as everyone curiously stares at Hongjoong, whom stared back with an ever-lasting gaze. The silence is loud, though his thoughts were flashing across his face, exposing everything he was thinking. And it was evident that what he needs, is the person right in front of him.
“Y/N, come here.” He calls you over with a nod and you protests. Physically, you’re feeling weak, but mentally, goodness are you are completely, utterly fucked.
“I-” Whining, you let your breaths do the talking to try and captivate your fatigueness. How come you were always the brut of the cards? Can’t they give you a break?
The dark look your senior gives is enough to put your whimpering to an end, “Hey, let’s go.”
Mingi pushes you forward as a head start and you catch yourself with your hands, taking in the dark carpet underneath.
“You wanna crawl over to me? Hell, I’ll take that too.” Hongjoong laughs maniacally and you’re left wondering what happened to the boy that had reassured you comfort just hours before. Had he always been this way?
Nonetheless, you still do it. You make your way over to Hongjoong all the while crawling on all 4’s. The guys couldn’t get enough of this. Your submissive state, yet your will to keep going, it was fucking ammo for them. Just fueling their running desires the longer this game continued.
You stop on your knees in front of him, then cautiously you work your way up until you were eye to eye with Hongjoong. He’s watching all over your face, part of him searching for a sign that said you wanted to stop. He knew he would, at the drop of a hat if he saw you were feeling uncomfortable, he would whisk you out of here himself.
But Hongjoong also knows, just like how you know. That secretly, you were into this shit. Little, book-reader Y/N loved being publicly humiliated and shamed for the sole purpose of getting her horny.
Which is why he doesn’t feel bad when he dips down to force your lips on his, the supposed quick peck being thrown out of the window. He’s enveloping himself into you and taking your mouth like he’d been starving for it.
He’s going at you with a level of neediness even he would’ve never expected from himself. Oh, how your lips essentially get swallowed up by his with every kiss, he’d hadn’t pictured he could get this turned on from kissing someone, his pants are so damn tight. And shit, the urge to fucking push you to the ground and make you grind on his thigh is literally clawing at him. He really is trying so damn hard to control himself.
Little noises begin to leave your lips as it fills the soundless room, and by the second you can sense Hongjoong becoming more frazzled, more sporadic in the way he’s dominating you, pushing himself further onto you.
“Are you about to take her right here?” Yunho coughs out, trying to bring attention the fact that there’s 4 other people in the room who have been witnessing this steamy make out.
Hongjoong comes up briefly from you to respond, “Fuck off,” then he’s back onto your mouth, kissing you with so much passion that you don’t even mind about the watchers. Because you knew that despite their complaints and protests, they were enjoying this too, you just knew they were.
“I’m calling it, Y/N get your cute ass back over here,” San grabs hold of your underwear then wastes no time in yanking you back, separating you and Hongjoong mid-kiss. You wobble backwards into your original spot, your lips so wet and pink, it looks like you just got done sucking on a lollipop; as Hongjoong reels himself in from it all. If you two hadn’t been stopped, there’s no tell in what he would’ve done to you.
“You two would’ve down right fucked each other in the middle of the circle,” Wooyoung muses, but not because he was repulsed by this fact, but rather for how sexy it was watching you unravel at the hands of his friend.
San starts to roll next, “I better get lucky like you shits did.” He shakes and releases the die when it lands on a ‘black’ square, the first of all tonight, “Oh, shit.”
“This is gonna be interesting.” Yunho mutters as Mingi’s fingers, after getting yourself restated back in between his legs, dance up the naked skin of your legs, absentmindedly of course, and works his way to the inner parts of your thigh, just gently rubbing at your flesh.
That action causes your eyes to briefly flutter but you try your best to focus on San, who’s reaching in for a ‘challenge’ card. He pulls at the untouched deck then goes to speak aloud.
“Choose an opponent and a player out of the group,” it’s apparent’s he’s reading ahead in his mind, judging by the way the corners of his mouth turn upright, “With a minute on the clock, let’s see who can leave the darkest mark, a hickey, on the player’s neck. Winner get’s card.”
Your heart’s pounding. Oh, god.
“Y/N, can you be my player?” Despite him asking, whining even, a mock of curiosity washing over his features, it was clear that his question is more of a demand.
Mingi laughs heartily while pushing his head against the side of yours, “Yeah, you gonna be his little play thing?”
“Woah, Mingi,” San throws his hands up exasperatedly, “How about you be my opponent, cause I already know I'll destroy your ass.”
The competition that’s ensuing riles up the rest of the group as Mingi swiftly agrees. Next thing you know, you’re being shoved into the middle of the circle, firstly on your knees then sitting crisscrossed as the two boys work their way over you.
With San on your left and Mingi on your right, your having to mentally calm yourself down from all the exposure you’ve endured so far. And how this round might actually be the death of you.
The rest of the group moves around till they sit front row in front of you, ready to watch the throw-down. You take in the boys in front of you.
Yunho, as evidence on his face, feels pleasure in this scenario and he’s so intrigued in how this will go. Wooyoung’s yanking out his phone from his pocket; and right as Hongjoong’s sits across from you, you can see through heavy lids him dropping his gaze down to your uncovered body.
He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s shamelessly watching you, and maybe that’s the reason for why you genuinely start to feel yourself drip liquid.
“I’m putting a minute on the clock,” Wooyoung officiates, scrolling on the phone that’s currently placed on the floor.
Both men beside you start to get into positions, hunching over to become more level with your throat.
“You have such a pretty neck,” San brings a hand to lightly stroke the large area, “Can’t wait to give you my mark.”
“San, you can’t say that.” You mew back, completely in a daze.
“Why not? It’s true.” He’s still running his fingertips along your skin and he could easily swear every touch made you whimper. God, could he listen to you all day.
“Gonna fuck up your neck, Y/N, just you wait.” It’s Mingi’s time to talk you up, him nearly mouthing that sentence onto your open skin, “Gonna leave a hickey so big people’ll think you’re getting it good.”
You briefly go to turn to him, but with Wooyoung announcing the commencement of the challenge, you’re forced back into the middle as they both sit impatiently.
“Start in 3…2….and….1!”
They pounce. Immediately, they stick on your neck like a vacuum, just taking in as much of the area as possible. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you feel their sucking turn into straight buzzes shooting down to core.
It’s indescribable the feeling your experience. Both boys on you like their life is on the line, but it’s so interesting how you notably recognize the difference in how they’re forming the hickey.
San’s lips are more precise, smaller, tiny sucks with occasional licks. Mingi on the other hand, wide, open kisses are his forte. His singular mouth is covering up a vast area that you already knew it would be hard to cover this up.
“Dude, they are so into this.” Yunho comments while Hongjoong tries his best to not actually cream his pants at your expression.
“Look at her face, she looks like she’s gonna cum on herself at any second.” He nottes which causes a series of moans, one of them yours, to fire throughout the crowd.
“20 seconds,” Wooyoung warns, eyes trained onto the scene in front of him.
They go in harder. They’re putting more pressure onto your neck, sucking so hard now that you can’t help the mini whines that escape you. You actually think you’re about to pass out.
The build up of stimulation over the course of this night has left you with an everlasting throb that’s threatening to explode at any time. The more they suck, the heavier your breaths get, and you’re struggling to contain your new expressions.
It’s all starting to become so much, the sensation boys are causing trickles down to your cunt in waves, so intense and pleasurable that even your body starts to stutter.
Wooyoung’s begins to countdown, “10….9…”
There’s cheering in the audience, egging the participants on while you’re still fighting your inner self to not spill out. Mingi and San aren’t slowing, and are holding their pace through and through.
“3…2…annnnd…stop.”
The moment they detach themselves from you, you were already game over, with your orgasm taking over for everyone to see. You’re moaning as it happens, eyes shut and hips bucking forward on nothing.
“No fucking shot.” Wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised as his mouth hangs low.
You’re too consumed in your shakes to even hear the other remarks spewing from everyone else. Oh, you really tried to keep yourself under control. The orgasm isn’t as strong as it could’ve been, like if there had been genuine stimulation on your clit, but god did it feel good to finally let loose.
“You came untouched,” Hongjoong quips, part of him surprised the other so horny it’s making it hard for him to think, “God, Y/N, give us a warning next time, yeah?”
Yunho mewls with closed eyelids, “Guys, if I said I almost nutted from that, would that be weird?”
“Honestly, I think I leaked a little bit,” Shamelessly, Wooyoung lightly shrugs his shoulders while admittingly so, the lower half of his body squirming ever so gently.
“You really are a dirty girl.” San murmurs and trails your body up and down.
“Getting off on just a couple of hickeys? What the hell?” Mingi laughs bitterly, still reeling in from seeing you literally cum on yourself.
“We have to…we need to see the results, right?” Your face is beat. You think you’ve passed the road of embarrassment 2 stops ago, and now you’re heading straight for a ditch. A ditch full of nothing but straight satisfaction and contentment.
“Oh, right,” Hongjoong leans in closer to inspect both areas, “Mm, looks like San’s is darker.”
As San celebrates his declared victory, Mingi contorts into displeasure, his nose scrunching, “What?”
He wastes no time in grabbing hold of your chin and pulling it to their other side. He looks over this space, then push your head left to review his own.
“Yours looks like someone tried to draw a fucking lake with a dried up red marker.” Yunho criticizes which leaves the boy offended.
Instantly, Mingi’s ready to protest, “I want a rematch.”
Hongjoong waves a hand to dismiss that requests, “No, no, we’re not gonna redo the whole thing just cau-” But Mingi’s back onto your neck, this time going in on the middle of your throat, sucking with a much greater force that it basically makes you weak.
“Woah! Woah! Woah!”
Arms fly towards you as the rest of the boys work to separate the two of you, Mingi, almost comedically, looking genuinely confused as to why he's being split from you.
Wooyoung grabs the unoccupied die and shoves it into the palm of Mingi, “Roll this and go back to your spot.”
You watch Mingi be offended, him making a distasteful look, “Who do you think you are?” He grumbles yet does exactly that, taking you with him while he reverts back to your original places.
With you being dragged against the carpet, the after effects of your orgasm leaves you quaking at even the slightest touch, the remnants of the past actions driving your pulsing cunt.
Before you know it, you’re being repositioned in between Mingi’s legs as he begrudgingly rolls the die, throwing it down with such an aggression. It rolls and rolls till eventually it lands on a ‘skip turn’, and with soft conversations flowing around he hands you the die.
Now, you’re feeling completely, and utterly fucked out. So much so that you put zero effort into shaking the cube then tossing it to the ground, never having had such a vitalizing night before.
It rotates on its axis before slowing down to a red square. You aren’t sure how much more you can handle, trying to suppress a groan. Immediately, you reach forward for the ‘dare’ card, then begin to read it aloud.
“Everyone deserves a sweet treat, the person to your right especially,” Warily, you peer over towards Yunho, who’s ever more intrigued in the card, “Have them find something tasty and lick it off of any part you. Player’s choice.”
“My choice?” His throat nearly dries at the thought. He could choose anywhere. Any place on your body.
“What’re you gonna lick off of her?” San asks, his own curious heart gradually racing by the second. Everyone’s thinking the same thing, the direction this is heading.
Hongjoong lolls his head to his side, “Yah, how about those donuts?”
Oh, right, the ones from earlier. You had eaten yours clean before this, but as you glance back to Yunho, you see him pulling out the package, unopened.
"Feels like I'm craving some right about now." He mutters and regards the donuts before doing a glance over to you. He's analyzing every inch of you, determining what he wants.
You feel his fiery stare but when a small smile appears on his face, that's when you ask, "What're you thinking?"
He lowers his head, almost mockingly, and without missing a beat, he sighs, "Pull down that tank top for us, okay?"
You were too fatigued to even argue, sluggishly raising your arms to yank the thin fabric down only slightly. It's then Mingi who grabs roughly at the rest of your tank and slides the material down till it hits your midline.
Your tits are out; fat, puffy nippy erected just the way Yunho likes them, and everyone is instantly drawn to your breasts.
"They're even better than what I was imagining," someone mumbles, you aren't sure who because what you're focusing on, is the way Yunho looks about ready to jump you.
"Face more towards me."
You follow his instruction, well, more like you allow yourself to be turned by Mingi towards Yunho, but either way, Yunho's satisfied. He makes his short distance to you, stopping only when he's mere centimeters in front, sort of mimicking Wooyoung's earlier position.
"Then....I'll get these opened," Even though he's talking mainly to himself, you still follow every one of his movements, from him ripping wide the package to him taking out a donut and sprinkling the powdered sugar onto your skin.
He covers both breasts in the sweetness, dusting a generous amount all around till you're a powdery white, ready to get licked raw.
"Does it have to be just licking?" Yunho ponders, and for the record, it wasn't a you question, he was asking his friends.
"Nah, I think whatever is necessary should be good." San answers which leaves Yunho in gratification. He knows exactly what he wants, and it's to absolutely devour you.
So, that's what he does.
Quickly, he throws down the remaining donuts before latching onto your tits, taking in your flesh whole and it seems at first, he's disregarding the whole point of this dare.
Instead of focusing on the powdered sugar, he's going straight for your nipple, lapping and licking at the bud then switching over to the next.
He's cupping your breasts with his hands, and as he's suctioning onto you, his hands work mindlessly to fondle your skin, juggling the two sacks.
It's a feeling you've never felt before. You want to wince out in pain but could you even consider this as such? The way he's going in on you, the swift jolts of pain, if you could even call it that, soon transfer into that feel-good sensation you're all too accustomed with.
You're breathing falls in synch with his action, and rely on Mingi's chest as support for when you rest back on him, one of your hands throwing itself up into his hair to help with your wriggling.
With each movement from his tongue it's like another added layer for your pleasure to hold on to, your thighs squeezing around Yunho to alleviate the build up in your core, and by goodness, did you love it.
Yunho finally ends off the dare with what it should have been, him licking up the remaining sweetness on your tits with an overly loud slurp. And then he pops himself off of you with large grin, a coat of wetness evident around his mouth, "I am so doing that again."
"Can I be next?" Mingi murmurs, going in to play with your sticky tits, while you drop your arm down. He watches the way they'd ripple from his force before dropping down with a shake.
"You are so sexy, my god." Hongjoong rubs a palm over his face, eyeing your upper body. He must be a good man, truly. To be able to resist taking you right here, right now, his will power is incredible.
"Let's do one more, then call it for the night. Poor Y/N looks like she's about to pass out." San suggests, with him every other second glancing down at your chest, and you merely throw a hand up in agreement.
This hangout had went so left-field from what you were originally thinking, but you would be a liar if you said this didn't awaken something in you. Something you genuinely liked.
Yunho goes back to his spot right next to you, and Mingi decides to keep you two right where you guys are. Wooyoung takes the die from off of the ground, and shakes it with some much power, "Last one, fast one."
He throws the cube down and you all watch it spin and spin and spin until it stops on a pitch, ‘black’ square.
"Oh, hell." Yunho laughs out and you even grumble out a 'oh no'. Because, of course it has to end like this.
Wooyoung draws the last card from the all-black deck and straight way he begins to chuckle, though the way his eyes crinkled speaks to something much different, "The end is drawing near, everyone is feeling tired and it's clear it's time to wrap up for the day. To finish off the game, choose a player of your choice and have everyone finish on them."
After reading this aloud, the quiet that ensues is massive.
It's the calm before the storm.
Silence before an explosion.
Then…..
“Fuck, where should we put her?”
“Let’s have Y/N-ie on the ground.”
“My cock is throbbing so fucking hard right now.”
“This might be my biggest load yet.”
You’re being forced down into the middle, tits up, and all you see are more and more bodies popping into frame. They tower over you and just the sight is enough to get you aroused all over again. They’re undoing their pants, dropping them past their knees and leaving them all in their underwear.
“Take off my underwear,” Wooyoung, who’s closest to you, orders and you do. With shaky hands, you roll over to the side and bring down the boxers till it aligned with his pants and in return, his thick, naked, cock springs out, your mouth salivating.
“Do me next.” Hongjoong requests, and so you roll over to the other side and assist him. After a few more of the requests, soon everyone is bare and ready to complete this last task, and you go back to laying down.
Chest out and all, your eyes scan around to the scene of all the boys jerking away at their foreskin, some of them groaning as they continue watching you and the compromising position you’re in.
“Stroke me a little bit, can you do that for me?” Yunho asks, scooting closer to you and you oblige. You replace his hand for your own, wrapping around the hard length and begin to tug up and down.
As you’re occupied in doing this, San comes up and crouches down next to you, “Let me put it in your mouth really quick.”
Nodding, you widen your lips and allow him to dart his tip in and out of your hole all the while continuously rubbing Yunho.
“I wanna know what your mouth feels like too.” Mingi gruffs and so removing yourself from San, you place your attention on his girthy cock, taking as much of it as you could. Then someone else asks for a handjob, and without peeking you grip them nearby, sliding your palm against their shaft.
You make your way around, stimulating the group as best as you could. One after another, you’d find your mouth would be used to pleasure someone, while both of your hands would be busy jacking off a couple of others.
The ones that would remain to have themselves masturbate would find ways to combat their lust, like slapping their head against your sappy tits or rubbing their dicks on your stomach, leaving patches of pre-cum behind before you’d switch to aid them.
At some point, a body begins to shudder.
“F-Fuck, I think- I’m clo..close…” Hongjoong sputters, detaching himself from your mouth and going to jerk off and before he knows it, he starts to shoot out spurts of hot, viscous cum directly onto your face.
“I-I..” Yunho doesn’t even finish his sentence by the time his orgasm hits, his liquid aimed for around your mouth.
Person after person, ripples of orgasms hit the rest of the boys as they all spaz then cum sporadically everywhere, most of them not having a specific place but just desperately needed to release themselves, till eventually, they’re all finishing together.
“Oh, god.” Wooyoung groans as you work faster at his cock and basically milk him dry, any remaining cum dripping onto your breasts.
With a mix of grunts and whines, the flowing liquid begins to slow, and soon, everyone’s cocks are emptied out all over you. From face to torso, you are now, completely and utterly covered.
As heavy pants fill the room, some of guys dropping to the floor instantly while others make their way towards the bed, you continue resting on the floor and bask in the way you could literally feel left over cum dribble from chin an onto your neck.
You feel nasty. You feel dirty. Part of you is borderline disgusted with how even then, after all that you’ve endured, you still want to rut yourself against a pillow or something, fuck yourself on your own fingers, so needy to get off like how the guys did.
But that can come for another day. For now, the tiredness is catching up, heavy eyelids consuming you and just like that you shut your eyes and fall asleep, concluding the end to your single, dirty night.
- Bonus -
“Fuck, look at her legs,” San whimpers, pinching at his phone to zoom in on the photo, “Just wanna lick ‘em up.”
“Dude, are you still looking at photos of Y/N?” Wooyoung quips as he finishes tidying up bits of his room. Inviting friends over was not apart of his agenda this Saturday night, but after some convincing (and the promise of alcohol) he eventually agreed, even if there were other thing’s he’d rather do.
“How can I not?” He exits out of the photo of you at the beach then quickly scrolls through your Instagram, stopping on a dump from last Halloween of your innocently cute, yet busty angel costume, “Can I be honest about something?”
“Mm?” Wooyoung doesn’t face him when asking, again straightening up things in his room. Mingi and Yunho should be coming back at any minute with the second bottle, and Hongjoong said he’d be quick the snacks.
“I came to one of Y/N’s photos before,” San recalls the memory of him whacking away at his dick with one hand, the other propping his phone which showed a picture of you smiling side with a bouquet of tulips in your grasp. God, he loved that photo so much, “The one with the flowers.”
Wooyoung halts in his track and cranes his neck back to the boy sprawled out on his bed, “You came to a photo of her? God, have you no self-control?” At least whenever Wooyoung masturbates, it’s to videos he finds on the web that resemble you, not actual photos.
A light blush sprinkles across San’s cheeks, him closing out of the app and then sitting up on the mattress, “It wasn’t intentional…it just sort of happened.”
Wooyoung scoffs, “You’re a pervert. A pervert that’s going to corrupt my sweet, precious Y/N if you ever get your hands on her.”
“Oh for- you’ll be the one to corrupt her out of anyone,” San bites back right as the door swings open, revealing an excited Mingi and an intrigued Yunho.
“Fuck are you two arguing for?” Mingi belts, the sole bottle of alcohol tucked underneath his elbows. The two boys make their way over to the open chairs placed out for them, Yunho flopping down instantly while Mingi pulls out the bottle and sets it next to him on the ground.
“Dumb shit Wooyoung’s saying.” San offers as an answer and Wooyoung simply shrugs, part of him feeling the need to be deceitful.
“Joong not back yet?” Yunho mutters, stretching his hands above his head.
Wooyoung shakes his head, “Nah, he’s still out, taking forever tho.”
He hums in response when suddenly a memory flicks into his head and he immediately groans, “Aw, guys, did you see Y/N’s outfit today?” Yunho reminisces on earlier today where you wore a more fitting dress to classes, hugging just the right spots for everyone to see.
“And when she fucking dropped her notebook and bent over in front of us,” Mingi adds, picturing how round and full your ass looked in the dress, “Would’ve taken her right there.”
“Hell yeah.” The two fist bump as Mingi shifts over a bit, his foot accidentally kicking the liquor and sending it flying underneath the bed. Just as San mumbles out a ‘stupid’, Wooyoung clears his throat.
“Hey, guess what San did to a photo of Y/N-”
The words couldn’t even come out before San body slams Wooyoung straight to the ground, covering his mouth and preventing any form of slip up from happening, “Absolutely not.”
The junior cackles out loud and tries to pry the hand away from his face. A fight ensues, with San on top of Wooyoung, and Wooyoung defending himself. The other two simply watch in amusement at what’s happening in front of them.
The boys were so caught up in the scuffle, that to no one’s knowledge, Hongjoong barges into the room, and apparently, he’s brought a visitor with him.
"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.
"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though, a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."
"What the fuck are you two doing?" Hongjoong rushes over to deescalate the situation. He shoves Choi San into a corner and rolls Jung Wooyoung the other way, "I wasn't even gone for that long and already you guys try to kill each other."
At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.
You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.
“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.
and you know the rest….
check out pt.2!
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bunnylovesani · 3 months
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Kiss Me Through The Phone
Summary: You call your jerk of a stepbrother to remind him to pick up some milk on the way home but the conversation takes a sinful turn.
Content warnings: Stepcest, dubcon, masturbation, fingering, squirting
WC: 2.9k
“What do you want?” Sam’s short-tempered voice rings out of your phone’s speakers as he picks up your call.
“Just calling to say mom wants you to pick up a carton of milk on the way home.” You exhale. Your mother had been married to his dad for several months now but talking to Sam still made you frustratingly nervous. 
“Fine. Is that all?” He snaps back. 
“Yeah. When are you going to be back by the way?” You innocently chirp, worried that he’d been gone for so long. 
“Why do you care?” He scoffs and you shrink down onto your bed. He had a special gift for making you feel invisibly small. 
“Jus’ wondering Sam.” You shrug. “You’re barely ever home. Gets lonely sometimes.” 
“Princess wants a playdate, is that it? I’ve got better things to do than rot away in that hole of a house.” The mean tone in his voice pinches at your heartstrings and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You quickly wipe them away and regulate your breathing, not daring to let him hear your sniffles- you’d never hear the end of it. 
“Okay. I’ll stop bothering you then.” You whisper disappointedly, heart sinking even more when you’re met with silence. 
“I’m only down the road at a friend’s house. I’ll be back later tonight.” He sighs, as though revealing the simple information was a burden to him. 
“You will?” You almost begin to float at the thought of him spending the night for once. 
“Yes. You can bother me then.” He sneers. 
“Okay!” You have to cover your mouth with your hand before the “can’t wait!” slips out of you. You anticipate that he’ll hang up but the seconds on your screen continue ticking on. 
“What have you been doing today?” He asks with a faint curiosity and you’re taken aback by his unusual question. 
“Oh! Um, I went shopping earlier.” You reprimand yourself for the stupid response. No wonder he thought you were nothing but an airhead- why couldn’t you have said you were reading classic literature or listening to metal?
“My old man give you a new credit card?” He questions and you blush with embarrassment. Your new stepfather was endlessly generous and as much as you loved being spoiled, you were concerned with the impression it left on Sam. “It’s alright. He loves you like you’re his own. Angel of the family. Probably glad he’s finally got a kid that isn’t a total mess now.” He adds before you can interject.
“Don’t say that, Sam. You’re not a mess.” You remark earnestly. You weren’t about to admit it but you thought the absolute world of him. 
“Whatever. What’d you buy?” He brushes the subject off and you hear him exhale- he must be smoking again. 
“Oh, I-uh. Well, I…” You stutter, remembering exactly what it is you’d bought earlier. 
“Spit it out.” He retorts impatiently and you eye up the pink bag of lingerie sitting by the edge of your bed. “What? You buy something secret?”
“I mean, kinda. Not really. It’s stupid.” You shake your head in panic. “I bought some new bras and panties.” 
Once you blurt out the delicate information, there’s an uncomfortably long pause.
“Cute. Bet you’ll look real pretty in it.” He chuckles lightly as he exhales again and a hot blush creeps over your whole face. 
“Maybe. I haven’t tried it on yet.” You murmur, unsure how to process Sam complimenting you. 
“What are you waiting for?” The sly smirk plastered on his face trickles into his words and you can picture it, clear as day. 
“I-I don’t know” You stumble, putting the phone down and fishing your favourite selection out of the bag- a striped pink set complete with chiffon bows. Without a second thought, you strip down to nothing and slide on your new purchase before twirling to admire yourself in front of the mirror. 
“How’s it looking?” Sam’s voice rings out on speakerphone.
“It’s pretty. Very flattering.” You said sweetly. 
“Show me.” 
His bold words stopped you in your tracks and you broke you out into a flurry of goosebumps. 
“W-what?” You hesitated, wondering if you’d misunderstood something.
“You heard me. Show me.” He stated confidently. 
Reluctantly, you approached your buzzing phone and peered at the screen to see an incoming FaceTime call from Sam. Against your better judgment, you accepted the request and fought the grin that threatened to envelop your face once your screen filled with his handsome, moody face. 
“Hey there, princess.” He drawled smoothly, a joint hanging between his fingers. 
“Hi.” You cooed, shyness consuming you. The sight of the mischievous glint in his blue eyes paired with the messy, dark hair that trailed down his forehead had you struggling to put a sentence together. 
“Put the phone down on your table and give me a spin then.” He ordered more than asked. 
Without a second word, you gently placed the phone on your vanity table and propped it up by the mirror before standing back with the same countenance as a skittish deer.
“Wow. Where’s that body been hiding?” He sniggers and you resist the urge to cover your heated face with your hands. 
“Now let’s see the back.” He gestures for you to turn around and you follow his command, perching your ass in the air a little as you show him. 
“Oh fuck yeah.” He expresses with a low, breathy tone. “Sit down for me.” 
Somewhat confused, you situate yourself on the chair by your desk. 
“Now lean back. Just like that, sweetheart.” 
You follow his words without question, spurred on by the trust you had for him. 
“Now spread your legs.” He said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world before taking a final drag of his joint and putting it out. When he sees you’re frozen in shock, he simply raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, as if to say “what?”
Anxiety racks your body- as well as deep, burning desire and a desperate urge to please him so you part your legs slowly, resting your heels on either edge of the chair. 
“That’s it, baby. You’re so well behaved, aren’t you?” His snarky voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up but you’d do anything to hear him call you ‘baby’ again. “Why don’t you slide those off?” His intentions finally come into clear focus- all doubts fading away when you hear the faint clinking of his belt. Too far gone to turn back now.
You put your thighs together, feet swinging gracefully in the air as you gradually pull your panties off. You hear rustling on the other line as Sam’s eyes remain painstakingly fixated on you and the glistening wetness you’ve revealed to him. Dragging the pink fabric over your knees, you flick them off and spread your legs once again. 
“L-like this?” You mumble anxiously, feeling chillingly exposed. 
“Yeah, baby. Just like that.” He sighs as you hear the snap of his boxers. 
“What are you doing, Sam?” You ask apprehensively, a warmth coming over you at the sound of his endearing words. 
“You wanna see?” A darkness overcomes his eyes, already smudged with 2-day old eyeliner. 
“Mhm.” You nod and he lowers the camera a couple of inches- just enough for his happy trail and lower hips to come into view. 
“Are you sure?” He teases and you nod again without a second thought. 
“Alright.” 
Without further delay, his large cock springs up onto your screen- swollen veins snaking around his thick base and the tip a pretty blushed pink. You exhale a shaky breath at the sight- you’d never seen one before and you weren’t expecting that your stepbrother’s would be the first. His large hand grabs the shaft, stroking it with slow but firm pumps. 
“I wanna see you doing the same now, princess.” He rasps, small groans escaping his parted lips between sinful words. 
“Me?” You’re taken aback by his perverted request. 
“Who else has got her legs spread? Yes, you. Put those pretty fingers to good use and touch yourself. Can you do that for me, baby?” He asks sternly and you have to look away from the camera when you notice how hungrily he’s staring at you. 
“I don’t know, Sam…” Your mind clouds with doubt. “Isn’t this really fucked up?” 
“The only thing that’d be fucked up is you backing out now.” He rebuked with the same aggression in his voice you’re used to hearing. “If you don’t  do it now, I’ll do it myself when I get home.” 
The thought of Sam’s fingers prodding somewhere so intimate both turned you on and freaked you out beyond measure. The dangerous stare in his glazed-over eyes served as a warning and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. 
With bated breath, you snaked one hand between your legs and traced it down your puffy folds.
“Good girl. I knew you’d do the right thing.” He sighs contentedly and resumes stroking his cock, the tip now a deeper pink and glassy with precum. “Now squeeze your tits with your other hand.” 
You knew better than to argue back so you followed his orders, raising your free hand to knead your left breast. 
“Pinch your nipple.” The expression on his handsome face contained nothing but dark, burning lust. 
“Sammm…” You whined, consumed with embarrassment.
“Don’t make me come down there.” He scowled threateningly. 
Anxiety racked your body but you could feel the wetness pooling in your cunt as you lightly pulled at your nipple. 
“I wanna see you fucking yourself.” He announced ominously. “Come on, baby, use those fingers.” 
“But Sam, I-I don’t do that. I don’t like it.” You mutter- you’d never tried before. 
“Do it for me.” He insisted and you knew you couldn’t refuse.
Your middle finger outlined your opening- it was certainly wet enough to slide in easily, but you still felt scared. Wanting to complain and give up, you looked up at the phone still perched on your desk and saw him then- eyes intently fixed on you and stroking himself desperately, shirt lifted up just enough to reveal his toned abdomen. He looked a mess. And all for you? 
Scrunching up your face, you slowly dipped a finger inside, wincing at the unfamiliar feeling and reprimanding yourself for not being strong enough to say no. 
“Oh, you’re such a baby.” Sam shook his head. “And you’re not doing it right.” 
“I don’t know what you want!” You moan frustratedly, pulling your hand away in defeat. 
“I know. I’ll show you.” He affirms lowly. 
“What?” You reach out and grab your phone.
“Stay right there.” He orders before hanging up, leaving you staring at the blank screen of your phone in confusion and horror. He wasn’t going to come here, was he?
You were too obedient to do anything but stay in place like he’d instructed but you were still tormented with anxious anticipation. It was one thing to mess around on the phone but something entirely different to take it to the next level. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to cross that line. 
You heard the heavy thud of footsteps traipsing up the stairs and your whole body froze. The door swung open and a smirking Sam entered the room with a cocky stride. 
“You haven’t moved.” He notes, closing the door behind him and approaching you like a predator closing in on its prey. 
“You told me not to.” You counter. 
“That’s right.” He mutters to himself as he lies back against your headboard. “Come here, sweetie.” He beckons you over and you timidly go over to him, your back pressed against his open chest. 
Sam rests his chin on your shoulder and inhales the scent of you, nuzzling up to the crook of your neck. 
“Lie back for me.” You rest your bare self against him completely, slotting in between his legs. “Just like that. Now I’m going to show you how it’s done.” 
“But- but you said if I did it myself then you wouldn’t.” You whined.
“I know doll but you didn’t do it right, did you?” He traced his hand down your slit and wasted no time before gathering the slick with two fingers and plunging them inside you. 
“Sam!” You mewl at the unexpected intrusion. 
“Shut up.” He curls his fingers and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You look down at the silver rings glimmering on his fingers, now sheathed inside you. 
“You’re so soft and squishy.” He laughs mockingly, plunging his slender fingers in and out roughly. “And squelchy too. You hear that?” He speeds up for a moment to emphasise the lewd sounds of your wet pussy, arousal dripping down his hand already. 
“You’re gonna let me play with you.” He fucks his fingers in and out of you with brutal precision. “Because that’s what big brothers do- and good little sisters listen.” 
“But Sammy, it’s wrong.” You moan and he clamps your mouth shut with a big open hand before you can voice any more protests.
“You make the mistake of thinking I care what you want.” He palms your breast and takes your nipple between his fingers, squeezing at it hard. “You’re my little toy. A thing to play with. You understand?” You nod as much as you’re able to considering the state of delirium you had fallen into. 
“Stop squirming and take it.” He slaps your breast harshly before sticking his thumb in your mouth; you suckle at it messily, drool dripping on your chin and down your cleavage. 
“Too-too much Sam.” You wail, thighs shaking and closing in around his veiny arm. 
“I don’t think so.” He yanks his fingers out so that he can force your legs open with both hands, pulling them apart as far as they could go before dipping his creamy fingers back in. 
“Do you know what squirting is, baby?” He asks you calmly, deriving a sick pleasure out of compelling you to speak when you were clearly falling apart. 
“Y-yes.” You choke out breathily. 
“How?” He raises an eyebrow and snakes a hand around your neck. “Has my little sis been a slut?”
“No, no, I promise.” You shake your head desperately. 
“How then? Been watching things you shouldn’t have?” He cocks his head around to face you and you shyly nod in response. “Ah, I thought so. That’s very naughty of you, sweetheart.” He chastises you, admiring how he’d turned you into a panting, dishevelled mess in no time at all. 
His fingertips brushed against an undiscovered spongy spot inside you and your toes curled at the blazing sensation. You entered a trance and soon after you heard a wet gushing that spilled out and drenched your thighs and sheets. 
“Such a good girl.” He kissed the side of your face sloppily. “Knew you could do it.” 
You peered down and saw that his broad, veined forearm was dripping- creamy wetness dribbling from his fingertips. 
“I-I did that?” You panted, confused. 
“Sure did, baby. All you.” He started rubbing circles into your clit and you threw your head back onto his shoulder. 
“Sam, what are you doing?” You whined, head spinning with the mind-numbingly good way he was playing with you. 
“I’m not done with my little toy.” He massages your swollen pussy, callous fingertips stroking against the delicate nub with dizzying speed. “Cum on my fingers, baby, cum all over them.” 
You came undone, whimpering and crying out so loud the walls vibrated. Sam chuckled at the sight, looking down at your fucked out expression with cocky pride. 
“We’re home!” Your mother’s voice rang out as the front door shut with a resounding slam and you scrambled to get dressed. Just as she climbed upstairs to reach your room, you’d gotten your dress back on- albeit backwards. 
“Oh, hey Sam.” She peered in, noticing him sitting on the chair by your desk and he waved at her with a thin smile. “Did you get the milk like I asked?” 
“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He shrugged and she rolled her eyes. 
“Everything slips your mind, sometimes I wonder if there even is a mind to speak of.” 
“Mom!” You screwed your face up at her, hating how she and Sam bickered. 
“What? He forgets everything.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively, about to head out the door before your dress caught her eye. “Is that a new way of wearing it that I don’t know about?” You look down as she points at the inside-out fabric. 
“Yeah, mom. Contrast stitching is all the rage.” You nod persuasively. 
“I’m getting old.” She sighs. “But it’s nice to see you two hanging out.” 
“Oh we’re a regular Bonnie and Clyde.” Sam smirks and you laugh nervously, hoping she wouldn’t read too much into the strange comparison. 
As soon as she’s gone, Sam shoots you a dark stare, lust infusing his eyes once again. 
“You’re lucky they got back home when they did. I would’ve ruined you.” He remarks casually and you shuffle in your seat uncomfortably, burning under his intense gaze. 
“You already did.” You gulp at his thinly veiled threat.
“Oh baby, you have no idea.” 
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queen-of-fanfics · 11 months
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Stay Away From Him
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.
A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!
Part 2
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“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Peter!”
“Hey, Y/N”
“Oh hey, Peters.”
“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.
“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”
This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.
Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.
“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.
“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.
“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 
“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 
Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.
“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”
“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.
You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.
“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.
He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.
“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.
“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.
“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.
“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.
“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.
Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.
“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 
“What? You keeping her hostage now?”
All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 
“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 
“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.
“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 
“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.
“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”
“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.
“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”
“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”
“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 
Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 
“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 
“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”
Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 
“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”
“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 
Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”
“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.
“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 
You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 
“Come up here and help me look at this.” 
Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.
“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”
You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.
“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 
“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”
“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”
“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 
Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 
The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.
About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”
Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”
“You two have gotten close?”
Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”
A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”
“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 
Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 
“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 
“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 
“I said ‘you should stay’-”
“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”
“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 
“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”
“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.
“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.
“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”
“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 
“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.
“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 
All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.
“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.
Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 
After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 
Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 
“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”
Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.
“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”
Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 
And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 
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mimixmunson · 22 days
Text
Boyfriend!Eddie finds your porn history. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb🍆
Word count- 1.2k
🍆 “Hey baby.. umm I don’t wanna embarrass you..”Eddie was sprawled across the couch, his limbs representing an octopus whilst his curls fell down the arm of the couch. You had let him borrow your laptop, Dustin had split soda over Eddie’s during their latest dnd campaign. He smiles as he notices your wall-paper is a picture of the pair of you, that trip to the forest was one of your favourites.
“Huh?” You spoke, confusion filling the air. You were easily embarrassed so just the thought of being embarrassed made your face flush. “It’s just, I lost my page I was working on so- so I went on the history page to find it again. But I didn’t just find my campaign document, I saw your umm history. Baby I, I don’t want you to be embarrassed I mean we all do it right?” Your face burns under his words, you know exactly what he’s stumbled across.
“Seriously doll, your choices here.. My innocent little girl, isn’t so innocent huh?”He smirks, eyes gazing over your flushed face. You feel stuck to the floor, like any moment now the ground is going to open up and swallow you whole. “Eddie-“ You finally manage to muster up the courage to speak, your words causing your stomach to churn in shyness. “It’s okay. It’s all okay princess. I’m impressed, I mean let’s see here. ‘Blonde babe worships her step-father’s sweaty balls’ Well that’s filthy isn’t it? ‘Anal training’ Oh? You want me to take that other little hole for a test drive? ‘Double penetration mmf threesome.’ Sweet girl I had no idea you could be so kinky! Look at this here. ‘Submissive girl has play time with Daddy.’ Is that me? I’m your daddy?” He teases, his smirk practically audible in his voice as he teases. Your embarrassed self can’t handle much more. He was never meant to see this, these searches they were just late night curiosity. Late night self pleasure when Eddie couldn’t be there with you.
You nod, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Your hands need to be doing something as the anxiety reaches your throat. You swallow it down and gulp in nervousness as Eddie walks towards you. He takes his hand and caresses your face softly. His touch both exhilarating and comforting under the current circumstances. “You weren’t meant to see that.” You swallow the saliva collected in your mouth. “It’s just… porn. For when you’re not here and I- well you know the rest.” You speak so quietly that you could hear a pin drop in the room, the atmosphere was tense but he couldn’t seem more relaxed. Eddie’s smile beams, under the knowledge they were really your searches and you didn’t try and lie your way out of it.
“And are those the sorts of desires my princess has been having on those oh-so-lonely nights where she’s banished to stay in her castle?” He speaks in his dungeon master voice, running his index finger down your throat, smirking as he watches your throat gulp and the goosebumps appearing down your neck and arms. Your feet feel superglued to the floor, stuck in confrontation you can do nothing but stare at the carpet, looking your boyfriend in the eye seems alien in this moment.
“Yes. But don’t think you have to indulge me! If you’re not comfortable we never have to do any of that. I’ll never force you Eds.” You babble, worrying about every word in your speech sounding patronising or rude. You look up to him, doe-eyed with a hint of regret. He smiles, holding the back of your head softly. Cupping your chin with his finger he raises your head to meet him at eye level.
“Oh darling girl. How naive. I would move the heavens and earth for you. You’re asking me to fill both of your holes, let you call me daddy and worship my balls while they’re sweaty? It’s filthy. It’s a little taboo. Perverse maybe. Letting my girl worship me and being able to spoil both of her holes with pleasure? It’s a mere inconvenience, I mean you’re really gonna have to pay me back for this sweetheart you know.” Eddie jokes, speaking in his dungeon master voice again. Knowing that voice always flusters you, as if you needed to be any more flustered.
Staring at the floor, “So you’re okay with it?” You ask earnestly. “More than okay. In fact, come to think of it.. I haven’t showered yet today. Definitely haven’t shaved my balls in ummmm ever? How about you take that pretty face of yours down there and make your daddy feel good?” You needed no further encouragement, you’d already been hiding your arousal from the embarrassment of being found out about your kinks, humiliation being another one.
You unbuckled and shimmied off Eddie’s jeans, palming him through his boxers as he grunts your name and several curse words. He was hard as a rock already, and a small wet patch over his boxers where he’d begun to leak a bead of pre-cum. Instincts took after and you licked up the wet stripe of his underwear, vaguely tasting his salty fluid. With your face so close to his underwear clad genitals, you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. The odour of sweat and pre-cum mixed together was your perfect aphrodisiac. Nestling your face into his hard on, you inhale all you can of him. Eddie slides off his boxers and takes his cock into his hand, jerking it slowly whilst looking down at you. You look up with ‘fuck me’ eyes and a cheeky smile, removing his hand from his length.
You lean upwards, placing your nose under his cock. His pubes tickle your nose as you lick circles over his fuzzy balls, swallowing the loose hairs that collect on your tongue. “Dirty fucking girl aren’t you? So gross.” Eddie mutters through his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. You smirk, all innocence leaving your body. You steady your hand on the tip of his cock as it begins to leak again, taking one of his balls into your mouth and suckling as if it was a pacifier. You speak as best as you can whilst sucking onto him. The noises you make aren’t translate-able, they’re more-so moans and groans. “Don’t speak with your mouthful angel.” Eddie coos, taking your hair into a ponytail and holding it behind your head. He forces his ball out of your mouth and guides your mouth onto his cock. “M’so close.” He grunts as he fucks your mouth, pulling you backwards and forwards onto his dick so far down your throat that you’re gagging. You slurp up the salvia that begins to dangle from his length. He comes undone in your mouth, emptying the fuzzing balls that were once in your mouth and you taste the liquid that you’ve had a hunger for. A rope of cum hangs from your lip and he wipes it up with his finger, before helping you swallow the last drop from sucking it up off of his finger.
“Thank you daddy.” You look up at Eddie with a shit-eating grin like butter wouldn’t melt. “My good little girl.” He responds, you mentally thank yourself for never clearing your search history. 🍆
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stevesjockstrap · 5 months
Text
Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?
Based on this post
Or, Steve invites Craigslist!Eddie to Thanksgiving as his fake boyfriend for entertainment and drama purposes
Rated: T? Always with the swearing idk | read on ao3
ETA a/n: shout out to @rocknrollsalad for a direct quote in here and putting up with me and @machtaholic for encouraging this 🖤
“Are you serious?”
Steve sighed. “Yes, Robbie. You know how much my parents have been on me since they’re losing what little power they have left. This is going to be awesome.”
She was pacing around their living room, making him anxious. “But why are you going to take this stranger from Craigslist? Why can’t you find someone you know? Argyle would do it. What if this guy doesn’t show, or he comes and steals something?”
“If he doesn’t show I’m in the same boat anyhow, but hey, there’s a thought. You think I can pay him more to steal something from my parents? I’d love to see that.”
“Steve!” She rounded on him, eyes wide. “You’re paying him? You didn’t tell me that!”
“For fuck’s sake, Rob. He didn’t ask for money, the post actually said he would do it just for food. But the guy’s driving half an hour and I’m willing to bet my family is worse than he’s expecting. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Read this and tell me this isn’t exactly what I need.” He scrolled on his phone and handed it to her.
Her shoulders relaxed as she read on, laughing finally, “You’re not going to make him propose or fight your dad on the front lawn, right?”
“Maybe for Christmas,” he smirked.
His parent’s house was always so cold and empty. It was his childhood home but he had never really felt any attachment to it. His apartment with Robin was small and cluttered but cozy, and full of memories of them and their friends. They had done a Friendsgiving the previous weekend that had been a dangerously good time. (The smoke detector had only gone off three times, a new record.)
Running his hand through his hair again, he looked at the clock. Would Eddie show? He checked his phone again, knowing there were no missed texts because he had just looked thirty seconds ago. Why was he more nervous about meeting him than introducing him to his family? They’d had one phone call and some texts, mostly arranging the time and place and Steve already apologizing for his family.
Eddie had laughed, “It’s okay, Steve. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”
He went to the bathroom, just to kill time.
And of course the doorbell rang.
He quickly washed and dried his hands, sparing a second to pull his hair into a less raked-through mess.
Quickening his pace when he saw his mom still holding the door open, not allowing whoever was on the stoop in, he craned his neck to see out the door.
Oh fuck.
“If you’d just go get him, ma’am, we could clear this all up,” Eddie was saying. The words were polite but there was an edge to them, just the tinge of a sneer on his lips. It was perfect.
“He’s mine,” he heard himself say. His mom whipped around, eyes crazed and mouth open. “Uh- I mean,” his eyes returned to Eddie standing on his doorstep. Taking in the long thick wavy hair, big brown eyes, his lips pulled into a toothy grin now. He’d clearly attempted to dress up, grey slacks and a black button down, paired with heavy combat boots. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos up his forearms and the backs of his hands. There were more tattoos on his neck, and Steve’s eyes glued themselves to the ring through his lip. Guh. “He’s, uh, here for me.”
“Hi Steve,” he watched the lips form. “Was just meeting your lovely mother.” Again there was nothing wrong with the words themselves, nothing anyone could pinpoint or take offense to. But that slithery way he said it with a razor sharp sting, Steve was impressed. He was clearly an expert at this.
Steve tried to school his own expression and voice. “My apologies. Mom, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”
There was a long silence where he thought his mom was going to combust. She opened and closed her mouth several times, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d never seen her speechless before.
Eddie sent him a smirk and he almost matched it but his mom looked at him finally and stammered, “Y-your, ah, I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. When she opened them she asked, “He’s your boyfriend?”
“Yes ma’am,” Eddie answered from almost behind her now as she turned to question Steve.
“And why is it you didn’t tell us he was coming? Why is he ringing the doorbell like a stranger?”
“I, um, well I did think he’d text when he got here or something…” Steve started, meeting Eddie’s eyes over her shoulder.
“What, and miss out on this warm welcome?” Eddie winked at him but quickly settled his face when his mom turned to him. Doing the exact thing he’d hoped for, Mrs. Harrington remembering she’s leaving a guest out on her doorstep.
Steve delighted in the fact that this was going to be a chess match and his mother was already several moves behind.
Her eyes narrowed and she held a hand out to welcome Eddie in, walking them all into the foyer. “Well, don’t let me stop you, go ahead and greet your boyfriend, Steven.”
It was a challenge, he knew, but they hadn’t discussed this. Eddie was on the ball, however. He continued his momentum to slide a hand under Steve’s suit jacket to settle on his ribs and the other he brought up to cup his face, leaning in and angling their heads together. Steve tried to relax and closed his eyes. Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but from where his mom was standing she wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Hey, baby. Missed you,” he breathed when he pulled away. Steve was halfway to believing this himself.
“Yeah,” he sighed stupidly.
Eddie pulled his hands away and he almost reached back for them before stopping himself with a shake. He found he’d only gone a foot away when he opened his eyes though. Oh he was in trouble.
His mother cleared her throat from behind Eddie like she hadn’t put them up to this. Steve reached out for his hand and held onto it.
“Okay so I’m going to go introduce him to everyone else,” he said quickly and walked further into the house. Holding his hand.
They made their way through the dining room, Steve taking more and more pleasure with each stilted interaction Eddie weaved through with his family members.
His dad was propped in the living room with his uncle and Steve could feel his eyes on him as they made their way around. He knew his mother had ran to tell him all about it but he wouldn’t take being ignored well. It was making his skin crawl but he knew it would further piss off his dad so he kept it up.
After everyone else had been formally introduced to Eddie and Steve had gulped half a glass of wine, he felt almost ready to go deal with him. He took Eddie’s hand again and turned, but navigated them to the sliding glass door and outside instead.
It was chilly, late November in Indiana, but it felt amazing after the stuffiness of the house.
Steve remembered he still had Eddie’s hand in his and he quickly dropped it. “Uh, you smoke?”
Eddie grinned, all teeth and tongue as he held a battered pack of Newports out to him. “Not usually, really, but it makes for a good prop. Sorry they’re shit.”
“Holy shit. You’re amazing. I mean- perfect, I mean- fuck.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “The on-the-spot fact checking of my aunt’s political shit was next level. You could do this year round and make a killing, man.” He did pull a cigarette out of the pack and Eddie leaned into him, clicking the lighter for him, meeting his eyes as Steve sucked in.
“I don’t-“
The door slid open behind them and Mr. Harrington walked out.
“Looks like you and your date are avoiding me, Steven,” he said. Steve watched as he gave Eddie a very slow up and down look.
“No, dad. Just needed a break. It’s warm in there.” He made his face remain neutral. It’s not like anyone was cooking anything, his mom always got their big family meals catered.
His dad narrowed his eyes at him as he held eye contact, taking a drag from his bummed cigarette.
“Where is Robin today?”
He sighed. “With her family, dad. And for the last time, I’m not dating Robin. She’s a lesbian. This is Eddie, by the way. My date? He’s my boyfriend.”
When Steve had tried to come out as bisexual to his parents, his dad especially had made it clear that he did not accept that about his only child. As the years went on and he hadn’t spoken much about this part of his life, it seemed his dad had hoped it just went away.
Mr. Harrington scoffed, “I don’t understand why you want to throw your life away, Steven. I thought we’d raised you better-“ Eddie made a noise next to him and Steve knew he couldn’t look at him or he’d burst out laughing.
“Save it, dad. Believe it or not I love my life. Which is something I’d never thought I would be able to say. Can you even say that?”
His dad shook his head disappointedly and walked back inside.
“Excellent job. I don’t think you need me here after all,” Eddie joked.
Steve propped himself against the wall of the house, deeply tired from having to defend his choices to his dad for the umpteenth time.
“Maybe not need. But it’s been really fun having you here. Usually dinner conversation is about how big of a disappointment I am. Oh, I guess I didn’t give you that backstory. I’m graduating with my masters in psychology in the spring, and I’ve been early accepted into a PhD program. And there’s no money in helping people,” he chuckled. “So.” He scuffed out the butt with his heel and left it on his dad’s pristine patio.
“Steve. That’s amazing! Congratulations.” Eddie seemed genuinely excited for him and it brought a small smile to his face. “You look like you could really use a hug, man. Can I hug you?”
“Of course.” If he let himself hold on for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, Eddie allowed it.
Dinner was quiet. His uncle asked Eddie what he did for work and he enthusiastically explained he was a line cook and worked nights at a bar. Steve surreptitiously looked around to take in everyone’s expressions and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. He actually enjoyed himself during a holiday dinner for the first time he could remember.
Eddie at one point threw an arm around the back of his chair and he leaned in a bit into him, catching the disapproving stares they got from the corner of his eye.
Pie was passed around and by then Steve had had another glass of wine or two. He reached over to thumb the whipped cream from the side of Eddie’s lip without thinking, before popping the thumb into his own mouth. Eddie’s eyes widened and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he caught himself.
“Thanks, babe,” Eddie said with a chuckle.
After saying their awkward goodbyes to everyone, Steve walked Eddie to his van. He looked down at his feet, fiddling with his keys.
“Hey, um, this may be out of left field and let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Eddie waited for Steve to nod. “Do you want to come to my uncle’s with me tomorrow night? It’s just the two of us and he always volunteers to work the holiday. But we do a thing, you know. A-and he’s always bugging me to bring someone.”
Steve blinked. “Would it have to be a fake date? I’m not as skilled at that as you are.”
“No, I mean, it wouldn’t- god I suck. I’m actually asking, like for real. If that’s okay? Just be you. And I’ll just be me.”
“That’s very okay. I’d really like that.” He couldn’t hold back his smile. Taking the chance, he leaned in, Eddie meeting him in the middle to finally press their lips together.
2K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
Text
toppers got a crush
Tumblr media
words: 900
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, thigh riding, p in v sex, unprotected p in v sex, exhibitionism, topper watching (request)
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl
you lean your head back against rafes shoulder, undulating your hips, grinding down against his leg as you clench your thighs around him. you reach down, feeling for rafes hand until you take it and move his palm over your breast, letting out a moan when he begins to massage your tit.
“i-i should go.” topper says, making you pick your head up to look at him. you completely forgot that he was there to begin with, too wrapped up in rafe to remember his friend sitting on the couch opposite to you.
“sit down.” rafe says, making you turn to look at him, eyebrows knitting together. you’re not one to question rafe, but you don’t understand why he wouldn’t want topper to leave. he was the one who pulled you onto his lap when you went to sat next to him, clearly showing that he was wanting you just as much as you were wanting him.
“baby, did you know that topper had a crush on you? before we started dating of course. he thought that you were real pretty.” rafe says, moving his hands underneath your shirt, letting the hem rise up as he grips your waist, moving you to keep your pussy grinding down against him.
“i didn’t know.” you admit, letting your head fall back against rafes shoulder, but keeping your eyes open, your eyes on topper. you honestly didn’t know topper had a crush on you, you just figured he was a friendly guy, even if he did back off when you started dating rafe.
“and i have the sneaking suspicion he still has a bit of a crush on you, despite you belonging to me.” rafe says, quirking his head to the side, his eyes on topper. “so why don’t we reinforce the fact that you belong to me, yeah?”
“okay.” you nod. you don’t even care who is watching if it means getting rafes dick, your panties are absolutely soaked and you are beyond needy for him, and have been since he sat you on his lap an hour ago.
“take your top off. show topper how gorgeous your tits are.” rafe commands, and you sit up to pull your shirt off, revealing that you’re not wearing a bra. topper gapes at the two of you when rafe retakes your tit in his hand, using his forefinger and thumb on the other side of your chest to tug at your nipple.
“she loves having her tits played with, don’t you? man, look how jealous top is that he’s not the one touching you right now.” rafe says. 
“i’m not jealous.” topper says, a frown coming to his face, even as his eyes stay on your bare torso.
“you don’t want to cop a feel then?” rafe questions, causing you to pause the movements of your hips. you and rafe are not shy about showing your affection in public, but you can’t imagine with how jealous rafe is that he would be okay with letting someone else touch you, even if it is topper.
“no.” topper grits out, his jaw clenched. “thats your girl.”
“correct answer.” rafe says, feeling you relax against him when you realize that topper isn’t going to be touching you. “now baby, why don’t you stand up and take your pants off?”
you stand between rafes legs, his hands coming to your hips as he twists you so you’re facing him, and you know exactly what he’s wanting you to do as you slide your thumbs under your waistband, pulling your pants and underwear down simultaneously as you stick your ass out, giving topper a great view.
“now take my cock out.” rafe commands you next. you step out of your pants, kicking them to the side before bending again, separating your legs slightly so your pussy peeks out as you reach down, tugging open rafes zipper and taking out his already hard cock.
“good girl.” rafe moans when you stroke your hand over his length. “turn around and sit on it. look at topper while you take my dick.”
you turn, meeting toppers eyes. you glance down at his lap, legs still spread in what was a natural position but now just gives you a great view of his cock, hard and straining against his shorts.
“you see that baby? he’s so hard!” rafe laughs. “he definitely still has a crush on you.” “maybe he’s hard because he saw your dick.” you joke, making rafe spank your ass, sending a ripple over the skin.
“enough mouth, ride me.” 
you place your hands on rafes spread knees as you sink down, rafe using his hand to keep his cock lined up with your entrance as your folds separate for him, wetness easily being able to accommodate his cock as your walls stretch for him.
“oh, fuck.” rafe moans, grabbing onto your hips, pulling you the rest of the way down, harder and faster than you expected.
you let out a moan when he sits you completely down onto his lap, his cock buried inside of you. “okay. i get it.” topper says, his voice sounding strained. “let me leave so you can finish.”
rafe shakes his head, using his strength to begin to move you up and down his length, like you’re nothing more than a fuck toy. “nah, i’m not letting you off so soon. all you’re gonna do is jack off to the memory of her naked. you can stay sat right where you are until i make her cum at least three times.”
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spiteless-xo · 28 days
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╰┈➤ my first kiss. ⋙ Embarrassed that you're falling behind your peers, you decide to have your first kiss with someone you meet at the party, but your childhood friend, Eren, really doesn't like that idea. Why would you want to learn how to kiss from some stranger when he can teach you?
ft. eren/reader, minor jean/reader wc. 17.9k cw. explicit content - minors do not interact, fem!reader, smut, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, multiple orgasms, unsafe sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, loss of innocence, corruption kink, loss of virginity, first kiss, friends to lovers, pining, jealousy, praise kink, second person POV
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“How far have you gone with a girl?”
Eren chokes on his spit, glancing over at you from the road. “What?”
“How far have you gone?” you repeat. “Y’know, like hand stuff, mouth stuff—“
“No, I know what you mean,” he says, gripping the steering wheel with both hands until his knuckles turn white. “I dated my ex for like three years, so…”
“So…?”
“So, I fucked her,” Eren finishes, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Why are you asking that?”
“Because I haven’t done that,” you admit, turning to look out the window, hiding your face from him. “I haven’t done anything with a guy.”
“Ok.” Eren doesn’t know when you’re going with this. 
“I feel like I’m so behind everyone else.”
“Because you haven’t had sex?”
“I haven’t even kissed anyone.”
Eren jerks to a stop at the red light, shaking his head in confusion. “What? What about high school?”
“I was too focused on my studies—I never went out with you to parties or anything, remember?”
“Shit, yeah… I guess not.”
“Right!” you whine, turning back to look at Eren. He spares you a glance from the corner of his eyes as he picks up speed, seeing your eyes wide and your lower lip jutted into a pout. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nobody’s going to want to date me if they find out I’m so inexperienced. It just gets worse the older I get!”
Eren snorts, “The right guy isn’t going to care about that.” He feels his heart beat a little harder in his chest as the two of you drive back to his place—are you trying to hint at something? Do you want him to be your first kiss?
“I’m hoping I can meet someone at the party tonight,” you continue, immediately crushing Eren’s hopes. “There’s going to be a lot of your friends there, right? Maybe I can kiss one of them.”
“They’re all idiots,” Eren says quickly. “You don’t want to kiss them.”
“I kinda just want to get it over with.”
Eren bites his tongue from speaking. Are you serious? You’re going to bring this up and then not ask him to be the one to do it with? “You should do it with someone you trust,” he says finally, throat tight. “Someone you’re comfortable with.”
“I don’t have any other guy friends except for you.”
Exactly! Eren wants to scream. “So, you’re just going to pick one of my asshole friends and mack on him tonight?”
You shrug, “That’s the plan.”
Eren makes a strangled noise in his throat as he pulls into his driveway, shifting the car into park before rubbing at his face with his hands. “I don’t get it,” he says, voice muffled. 
“I thought it was pretty straightforward,” you say before getting out of the vehicle. Eren watches you walk past the front of the car to the door of his house, hauling your overnight bag with you as you head inside. 
Eren waits a few minutes for his heart to stop beating against his ribcage before he follows. 
The two of you have been friends since you were kids. You grew up a few houses down from one another, so you spent your childhood running around the neighbourhood with Eren and getting into trouble. You had a bit of a falling out in high school because Eren’s aforementioned ex-girlfriend had an issue with him spending so much time with you, but now that they aren’t together anymore, the two of you have rekindled your friendship—entering your second year of university. 
When Eren gets into the house, he sees you chatting with Zeke in the kitchen and immediately scowls. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you here, brat,” Zeke says, smiling warmly. “What trouble has Eren gotten you into, now?”
You laugh, “Eren is taking me to a party tonight.”
Zeke whistles lowly, “Wow, your parents are ok with that? Aren’t they pretty strict?”
“They don’t know.”
“Atta girl,” Zeke hums, gaze shifting over to Eren as Eren leans on the island next to you. “So, she’s spending the night?”
“Yeah, Mom set up the guest room for her already,” Eren says.
“Cute,” Zeke says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He turns to look at you, “You’ve grown up quite a bit since I last saw you.” Eren feels a flare of anger at Zeke’s comment and the way he punctuates it by leering at your breasts—but you don’t even notice, your head is down as you dig through your bag. "You're not a little brat anymore."
“I think the last time I was over was when I was like sixteen,” you say. 
“Did you get tired of Eren teasing you all the time?”
You chuckle, “More like, he got tired of me.”
“That’s not how it happened,” Eren says.
He never told you the reason why he stopped talking to you was because of his ex, so of course he never told you that the reason why he started talking to you again was because she was gone. So, you’ve decided yourself that Eren just thought you weren’t cool enough to hang out with him these past few years.
“Childish,” Zeke tsks, finally shifting his gaze to Eren’s and catching his venomous glare. Zeke looks away, feigning innocence. 
“I was a child,” Eren says through clenched teeth. 
“You’re still a child,” Zeke says with a scoff. 
“I’m nineteen.” Zeke hums in consideration, gaze shifting back to your breasts, and Eren decides he’s had enough of his brother’s shameless leering. “Let’s go to my room,” he says, grabbing your bag from the counter and stomping down the stairs to his bedroom, with you following close behind with a huff. 
Eren chucks your things onto his bed, waiting for you to walk into his room before slamming the door shut. “Keep the door open when you have a girl in there!” Zeke calls from upstairs, but Eren ignores him. 
Just like upstairs, you take a seat on his bed and start rifling through your bag, brows furrowed in concentration. “I need your help deciding on an outfit.”
Eren's whole body feels hot all of a sudden. “Ok,” he says, sitting in his desk chair and spinning it around to face you. “What’ve you got?”
You pull out a tiny, black dress that looks like it was made for a toddler. “I think this one is really sexy, but I’m worried it’ll give off the wrong impression.”
Eren hums and haws in mock consideration. “It’s hard to tell what it’ll look like when you’re just holding it like that… can you put it on for me?”
“Oh, yeah—duh!” you laugh, as if you’re silly for not suggesting the idea yourself. You stand up, curling your fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, moving to pull it up, but then pause and look at Eren with narrowed eyes. “Don’t watch me.”
He thinks about protesting—saying something like, how are you gonna kiss someone if you can’t even undress in front of me?—but he calms his hormones and spins around in his chair until he’s facing the wall. He can hear the drag of your zipper as you undo your pants and the sound of clothing falling to the floor as his face starts to burn.
Eren’s ex had an issue with his friendship with you because she felt like you always came first. If you called, Eren would come running. If you needed something, Eren would already have it for you. Plain and simple—she was jealous of how close the two of you were.
She broke up with Eren because, even though she made him cut you out, he still wouldn’t shut up about you. “If you like her so much, why don’t you date her instead?” she said. And that’s when Eren realized that his feelings for you were more than just platonic.
Was it unusual that he wanted to hug you for a little longer each time? Or that he wanted to hold your hand when the two of you walked alongside each other? It’s completely normal for friends to want to cuddle up together during movie night, and maybe if those cuddles turned into kisses, that would be ok—right?
No. Eren just had a big, fat crush on you and it took his ex-girlfriend’s suggestion to make him realize it.
“Ok, I’m ready,” you say, and Eren spins around to see the dips and curves of your body covered up by a tiny, little dress that barely falls past your ass. “So? How does this look?”
Eren clenches his jaw tightly, taking slow, measured breaths through his nose as he tries to bring some blood back up to his brain. “Slutty,” he says, and you frown. 
“That’s what I thought,” you huff, directing him to turn around again to switch outfits. “What about this one?” You pull the second dress over your head quicker than the first. This one is more modest with small flowers decorating the fabric, it falls just above your knees with thin straps resting on your shoulders and a modest neckline. 
“This seems more your style,” Eren says after clearing his throat, “I like this one.”
You hum, unconvinced. You take a look at yourself in Eren’s full-length mirror, spinning around gently to watch how your dress lifts as you do. “I’m not sure… it feels too cutesy to me.”
“What’s wrong with cutesy?”
“Boys don’t like cute girls.”
Eren snorts. “What?”
You shoot him a measured look, crossing your arms over your chest and jutting out your hip. “Hitch wasn’t cute. She was a bombshell.”
“Why are you so concerned about my ex?” he asks, hopeful. 
“I’m just using her as an example,” you say. “Same with Mikasa and Annie. They’re all hot.”
“Pieck is cute.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“She’s one of the girls in my program,” Eren says, adjusting himself in his seat—discretely tugging the fabric around his crotch to alleviate the strain in his jeans—he feels like a teenager again with you in his room like this. “She’ll be at the party tonight.”
“Do boys like her?”
“She gets a lot of attention,” Eren shrugs. 
You sort through your bag again with your back to Eren. This time when you bend over, Eren doesn’t avert his eyes. The bottom hem of the dress rises to mid-thigh, and somehow just this small sliver of skin has Eren sweating under his collar.
“So, she’s my competition,” you say, pulling out a small bag.
“She… uh… what did you say?”
When you turn around Eren quickly looks away, but he catches the way you roll your eyes at him. You settle yourself cross-legged on the floor in front of his mirror and Eren rolls his chair over until he can see your face in the reflection, watching you as you apply makeup.
“Eren, you’re acting weird today.”
“I just think this idea is stupid,” he says, and his heart beats faster in his chest. “If you wanna kiss someone, just kiss me.”
You snort, “Don’t make fun of me.”
Eren rolls his tongue against his cheek, eyes narrowing as he looks at you through the mirror. “Whatever.”
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Eren tries to talk you out of going to the party for forty-five minutes before you finally just take his keys and storm off to his car. 
“Hey, come on—“ he yells, right on your heels. “I’m just saying, the party’s gonna be stupid. We can just hang out and watch a movie instead.”
“It might be stupid to you, but I’ve never been invited to a party before,” you say, thumbing his fob to unlock the doors. Before you’re able to reach forward for the handle, Eren grabs it first and squeezes his way between you and the car. “Besides, I already got all dressed up.”
Eren looks down at you as sternly as he can muster—lips pressed into a tight, thin line with his brows furrowed—but you look so cute and eager to go, that he concedes. “Fine, whatever. Give me the keys,” he holds out his free hand and you drop them into his palm with a grin, “but as soon as you want to leave, you tell me, ok?”
“Got it!” you cheer, practically skipping around the front of the car and crawling into the front seat. You’re so giddy with excitement that you can’t stop bouncing in your chair.
“You really haven’t been to a party before?” Eren asks, rolling out of his driveway and onto the road, already mourning the memory of you in your underwear in his bedroom. 
“Who would I have gone with if not with you?”
“What about Armin?”
“Armin?” you ask, tilting your head. “You really think he’s the type to go to parties in high school?”
“I don’t know,” Eren scoffs, dismissive. “Hey, why don’t you practice kissing with him instead of some random at the party?” Eren teases, kissing the air as you groan in annoyance. 
“Armin knows less about kissing than I do. I want to be with someone more experienced—someone who can teach me.”
“You’ve got really specific criteria for this guy. Are you sure you’re gonna be able to find someone?”
“Once I have a few drinks, my standards will lower,” you joke, gesturing to the six-pack at your feet. “Do people really play Spin the Bottle at parties? Or Seven Minutes in Heaven?”
“Not really.”
You sulk in your seat, whispering a quiet, “Aw, man.”
Eren clenches his hands around the steering wheel, rolling his palms back and forth until they squeak against the leather. “Look, there’s going to be a lot of bad guys at the party—guys that might try to take advantage of you—so let me know who you pick for your Big Kiss before you lock lips,” he says through clenched teeth. 
“What do you mean: take advantage of me?”
“I mean, they might make you do something you’re not comfortable with.”
“Like, tongue?”
“Like hand stuff,” Eren says, shooting you a glance from the corner of his eyes, “or mouth stuff. Or maybe even all the way.”
“At a party? But there’s people there!”
Eren clicks his tongue, “If someone asks you to go somewhere private, he probably wants to do more than just kiss you.”
You bring your hand up to your lips, ghosting your fingers across your mouth as you stare wide-eyed out at the road before you. “Wow, so I could lose my virginity tonight, too?”
“Take this seriously,” Eren snaps.
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“I think you’re making a mistake giving away your first kiss to some stranger.”
“Who cares, Eren? I’ve decided I’m going to do this, so I’m going to do it—stop being so weird about it.”
Eren groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to calm himself down.
“Ok, fine,” you whisper. “I’ll run my choice by you before the Big Kiss.”
Eren’s grip loosens around the steering wheel. “I’m just looking out for you after being a jerk for the past few years.”
“Yeah, I know, Eren,” you say. “Thank you.”
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Connie’s parents own property just outside the city. It’s about a thirty-minute drive from Eren’s house, down a dirt road with no street lights. If you’re unfamiliar with the road, it can feel very spooky—and Eren senses your unease by the way you chew your lip and wring your hands together. 
“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he assures you, and you hum in acknowledgment. “Just be grateful you got invited to a house party and not a pit party.”
“What’s a pit party?”
“It’s when we all get drunk in a gravel pit outside of town.” You look over and Eren in disbelief and he laughs. “We get some of the guys with trucks to drive out pallets so we can burn them for warmth.”
“Really? Isn’t that dangerous?”
Eren shrugs, “Probably.”
“How do you get home?”
“I don’t. I usually tent overnight.”
Your jaw drops. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not. There’s not many pit parties because the cops always shut them down if they catch wind, but they’re a blast.”
“You’re insane,” you laugh, and it makes Eren grin. “So, that’s what you were doing instead of studying during high school.”
“Hey, I did ok,” he says with a chuckle. “Are you nervous about the party?”
“A little,” you admit, biting your lower lip. “Not so much about the party itself, but more about… well… you know.”
“The Big Kiss?”
“Yeah,” you nod, exhaling shakily. “I’m worried I’m going to embarrass myself.”
“Then don’t have your first kiss when you’re drunk at a party with some stranger,” Eren scolds, brows furrowing. 
“I wish you’d be more supportive about this.” You cross your arms over your chest with a huff, pouting in Eren’s seat like a child. 
Well… at least you don’t seem nervous anymore.
Eren pulls into Connie’s long, gravel driveway that’s already filled with cars. He parks behind Reiner’s truck and gestures for you to follow him as he leads the way up to the house. 
From outside, the music and voices of the people inside are muffled, but Eren can see a group of people chatting in the living room by the window, and when they catch sight of him, they all start cheering. 
He opens the door to the cry of, “Eren!” from several nearby guests. Arms pull him into hugs, palms slapping his back, and suddenly he has a cracked drink in his hand as the crowd sweeps him away. For a split second, he forgets about you—but then he turns and snatches your wrist, dragging you with him as he’s steered into the kitchen. 
“I’m so glad you came, man!” Connie says, a joint hanging from between his lips. “I thought you weren’t going to make it out tonight.”
“Jaeger never misses a party,” Jean scoffs, clapping Eren in the back.
“Just running a little late, that’s all,” Eren shrugs. 
“Reiner was looking for you, he wants to play beer pong against us later tonight,” Jean says. “He’s convinced that this time he’s actually going to beat us.”
Connie laughs, puffs of smoke spilling from his mouth as he does. “Reiner would win if he didn’t always make Berthold his partner—that guy can’t aim for shit.”
“You’d think he’d have some sort of advantage because of his height,” Sasha chimes, giggly, “but it just makes him even more uncoordinated.”
You clear your throat softly and Eren watches as Jean and Connie’s attention shifts over to you—as if in slow motion, he sees the way their eyes scan your face, down to your chest, and then your thighs, before back up to your face. 
“Who’s this babe you’re with, Jaeger?” Connie asks, brows raising. Jean runs his tongue across his lower lip and Eren feels his jaw tensing. 
Eren wants to step in front of you to shield you from their lecherous gaze, but you stand a little taller from the attention, smiling wide as you introduce yourself. 
Connie extends a hand out to shake with yours and Eren thinks about swatting it away. “Connie Springer,” he says. 
“I know who you are,” you smile, but you shake his hand. You nod over at Jean, then Sasha, “And you’re Jean Kirstein and Sasha Braus. Eren talks about you guys all the time.”
“We’ve been friends since we were kids,” Eren explains. “We grew up together, so I’ve known her forever. She goes to school with us, but in a different program.”
“Oh, ok!” Sasha says, pleased with the explanation. She cocks her head to the side, lips pursed as she surveys your appearance. “You’re like, really pretty!”
“You go to the same school as us?” Jean asks, looking down at you curiously. “I think I’d notice someone like you.”
“I’m pretty shy,” you say.
“You don’t look shy.” You giggle, ducking your head slightly behind Eren’s shoulder and Jean shifts his gaze up to Eren’s face, eyes narrowing. “Are you two together?”
Eren doesn’t get a chance to respond before you chirp, “No, we’re just friends!”
“Oh, so he was trying to keep you for himself,” Jean says, and Eren feels his anger flare up. “Very childish, Jaeger,” he teases.
“Shut the fuck up, Kirstein,” Eren mocks, and Jean scowls at him. 
“Do you know how to play beer pong?” Connie asks, nodding toward the free table in the living room. “Wanna play?”
“I’ve never played before, but I’m happy to learn!”
Connie leads you over to the beer pong table with Jean and Eren close on your heels, leaving Sasha behind in the kitchen to raid the Springer’s snack cabinet. He arranges the red solo cups into a triangle shape as Jean and Eren do the same on the opposite end of the table. “The point of the game is to sink your ball into one of the cups on the other side,” Connie explains. “If you get it in, then the other team has to drink.”
You nod in understanding, watching closely as Connie dunks a ping pong ball into one of your cups, coating it in water before handing it to you.
“Give it a shot,” Connie smiles. 
You stick the tip of your tongue out in concentration, squinting one eye shut before throwing your ball toward the opposite end of the table. You completely undershoot, hitting the table instead, and the ball dribbles toward the cups without any hope of getting in. 
“That wasn’t bad,” Connie says encouragingly, “but you need a little more power and a little more arc.”
“Arc?” you repeat, curious. 
“Here, let me show you.”
Eren’s vision clouds as he watches Connie step behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other ghosts over your hand. He whispers something into your ear as he guides you through the motions of tossing the ball, and whatever he says has you giggling and squirming in his grip. 
Connie guides you through tossing the ball and it hits one of Eren’s cups, swirling around the rim just above the water. Jean sticks his fingers into the cup and flicks the ball out and onto the floor. 
“Did I get it?” you ask, hopeful. 
“Nah, I fingered it out,” Jean says, “doesn’t count.”
“I fuckin’ hate that rule,” Connie groans, stepping away from you and back into position in front of the table. “Fingering is so hard.”
“I don’t want to play it either,” Eren says, relaxing now that Connie’s put some distance between the two of you. 
“Let’s let our new guest decide,” Jean suggests, extending a hand out for you to speak. “What do you think?”
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, glancing between each of the boys. “Um… what’s fingering?”
Eren hears the sharp inhale Jean takes from your comment and watches how he stands up a little taller before speaking. “It’s when you put your fingers into the cup—like this—and flick out the ball.” Jean makes a show out of it, running his fingers along the rim of the cup before dipping them inside, gently flicking the water before pulling out his dripping fingers. Eren can see you gulping nervously from across the table from the sight. 
“Oh,” you say. 
“But girls can’t do that,” Jean continues, “you have to blow.”
“Blow?”
“Yeah. Just lean forward and blow into the cup—why don’t you try it?”
“No!” Eren snaps, crushing the ball in his hand. “Let’s just play the fucking game, stop fucking around.”
After swapping out the ball Eren ruined, the four of you continue to play—and it’s not a close game. Eren and Jean are incredibly good at beer pong, Connie is too high to function, and you can hardly hit any cups. You and Connie quickly drop to four cups while Jean and Eren still have all six.
“You guys really need to land a shot,” Jean says, feigning sympathy. “Otherwise you’re going to have to do a naked mile.”
“What’s that?” you ask, turning to Connie. 
“Exactly what it sounds like—run a mile naked.”
You frown from his response, looking across the table at Eren for sympathy. “Nobody’s going to make you do that,” he assures, but Jean scoffs at his side. 
“Hey, can we get a rearrange?” Jean asks, gesturing to the wonky formation of the remaining cups. “Give us a rhombus.”
Connie leans into your side but whispers loud enough to be heard across the table. “What the fuck is a rhombus?”
“It’s like a squished square,” Jean says, and he directs you as you move the cups into place before throwing his ball into the upper left cup. 
After you fish the ball out, Eren lines up his shot and sinks his ball into the same cup. With a cheer, Eren can't resist high-fiving Jean as Connie groans. He fishes out the ball, removes three cups from play, and rolls the ball back across the table, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What happened?” you ask. 
“If they both sink it into the same cup, it’s three cups out and balls back,” Connie explains, sighing as Jean lines up his shot. “They’re gonna win this.”
Jean misses his shot with a loud, “Fuck!” and Eren intentionally overshoots. He’s trying to give your team a chance to get a cup so there’s no chance of you doing a naked mile, but it’s no use because you and Connie both miss your shots.
Eren rolls the ball between his palms, wishing for the first time that his partner will flub the shot—but Jean’s got great aim, and he manages to sink it. Eren intentionally ices the ball again to give you and Connie a chance for redemption.
“Did we lose?” you ask, looking over at Connie as he hands you a ball.
“We get two chances to get it in. If we do, then we’re in the clear, but if we both miss, then it’s game over.” You frown at his explanation, looking down at the ball in your hand before glancing across the table at the six cups lined up in front of Eren and Jean.
“I just wanna get it in,” you say.
“I bet you do,” Jean whispers under his breath, hiding his mouth behind his beer, and following it up with a slow sip.
“Why don’t you take both shots?” Connie offers, handing over his ball to you as well. “I’m not much better, and that’ll make your odds a little better.”
You smile at him gratefully before lining up your shot. You follow all of the instructions that the boys gave you throughout the game: line up your arm with the edge of the table, hinge at the elbow instead of throwing with your arm, arc it into the cup…
But you miss.
Jean runs his tongue across his teeth, chuckling as he catches your ball. “If you miss this one, you’re gonna have to do a naked mile.”
“No, you don’t,” Eren says through gritted teeth.
You shake out your limbs, loosening your nerves. You bounce a few times on your feet to get out any extra energy and Eren watches the way your tits jump with every hop. After a long, slow breath, you line up your second shot.
“Oh, shit! You got it!” Eren cheers, watching the ball perfectly arc into the air and into one of his cups. “Great work!”
You throw your arms up in the air with a cheer, twisting to the side to wrap them around Connie’s shoulders as you pull him in for a tight hug. Connie’s arms wrap around your lower back, squeezing you tightly before gently lifting you off the ground.
“Ok, cool it,” Eren hisses, “you guys only won redemption.” But Connie spins you around like the two of you just won the game. 
When he finally sets you back down, it’s Jean and Eren’s turn, and Jean easily gets the final ball in again. This time, you aren’t able to get a successful redemption shot, so you and Connie lose the game.
“That’s a naked mile!” Jean hoots, clapping his hands.
“No, it’s not. She got the ball in—they’re fine,” Eren argues.
Jean gestures to the six cups arranged in a perfect triangle on the table. “What do you mean? I don’t see any missing cups.”
“She got the redemption shot.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“Hey, it’s my house, and I decide that it counts! No naked mile!” Connie yells, and the small group of people that had gathered around the table to watch start booing. “Oh, fuck off!”
Eren breathes out a sigh of relief knowing that you won’t be running around the house naked, but when he turns to look at you, he sees that Jean has already made his way over to you. He’s shaking your hand, whispering into your ear, and rubbing your back with his free hand.
Oh, hell no.
Eren starts charging over to you so he can pull Jean off of you when his path is blocked by a big, broad blonde. “Eren! Let’s go, it’s our turn to play you,” Reiner says.
“Dude, I can’t right now,” Eren says, trying to push past him, but suddenly Berthold is standing there, too, blocking Eren even more. “Hey, can you guys move aside—”
“Come on, Eren. Don’t be lame, let’s play!”
“Yeah, ok—just give me a sec—can you get out of the way?” Eren ends up pushing his way past Berthold and Reiner to find Jean’s face in your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist. You’re pressed up on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your body into him completely. 
He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, trying to calm his anger, before reaching forward and ripping Jean’s arms off of your body. Jean stumbles back, frowning down at Eren. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” Eren feels hysterical—this isn’t happening. “I’m just—”
Just then, your arms wrap around Eren’s waist, tugging him into a tight hug and Eren feels like all the air has just been sucked out of his lungs. You bury your face into his chest with a happy sigh and Eren finds himself carefully resting his arms around your body, holding you close and pressing his nose against the top of your head.
The two of you have never touched like this before—it’s always been strictly platonic—despite his desire to be more physically affectionate. The most physical contact the two of you have ever had was probably just a high-five, so Eren’s shocked to suddenly feel the warmth of your body against his.
He can feel you murmuring something into his chest, but he can’t quite hear you. Eren cups the bottom of your jaw in his hand, tilting your face out of his chest until your chin rests on his sternum. You smile up at him drunkenly. “He’s the one I want,” you say, and Eren feels his world crashing around him, “Jean.”
“No, you can’t,” he says. “He’s not—don’t do it—he’s not the one you wanna do this with.” Eren looks down at you with furrowed brows, holding you tight against his body as if he can physically restrain you from doing this—from kissing Jean.
“I want to,” you giggle, and you turn your head to look over at Jean, resting your cheek on Eren’s chest.
Jean’s still standing right there—grinning right next to you and Eren as Eren holds you close. Eren shoots Jean a deadly look, to which Jean responds by taking a step back. “Hey, come on, Jaeger. Let’s play with Reiner.”
Eren only agrees because playing beer pong with Jean means that he’s not taking you somewhere private and stealing your first kiss—so the two boys return to their spot to play against Reiner and Berthold while Connie and Sasha keep you company.
Connie is still openly hitting on you, but he’s stoned now, so he’s not talking as smoothly as he thinks he is, much to Eren’s relief. And Sasha is feeding you chips she found in the cupboard, which is helping to sober you up after the drinks you had during beer pong. A few other people come over to introduce themselves to you throughout the game, but nobody sticks around to chat.
Jean and Eren are cleaning the floor with Reiner and Berthold in this game of beer pong. They’re down to just one cup and there’s a good chance that Jean will get it on his next shot, but rather than taking the shot right away, Jean whistles for your attention and then beckons you over.
“If I get this one in, what do I get?” he asks, leaning down to speak into your ear. Eren feels his shoulders and neck tense as he watches you giggle into your hand.
“Um… I don’t know, what do you want?” you ask, batting your eyelashes up at him. You’re not even doing it on purpose—but with the height difference, you have to tilt your head almost all the way up to look at Jean’s face. It makes you look small and innocent, especially compared to Jean’s almost sinister smirk.
He runs his tongue across his lower lip, passing the ball between each of his hands as he pretends to think it over. “Hmm… what about a kiss?”
Eren watches your throat bob as you swallow nervously and he considers stepping between the two of you—but this is what you want. You’re his friend, he should be supportive of you and your decisions, even if he likes you—especially if he likes you.
You tug your lip between your teeth to bite back your grin as you nod up at Jean. “Ok—yeah, I’ll give you a kiss.”
“Perfect,” he purrs, standing up tall again. He wraps one arm around your waist to hold you close at his side while he raises his hand to take the shot. It’s no coincidence that Eren happens to lose his balance at this exact moment and stumbles into Jean, causing him to fumble the shot with a groan. “What the fuck, man?”
“Sorry,” Eren says, not sorry at all. He takes his final shot and sinks it into the final cup, and Berthold and Reiner don’t have a chance at redemption.
The crowd cheers, Reiner demands a rematch, blah, blah, blah—none of that matters when Eren realizes that you (and Jean) have disappeared from his side. He frantically looks around the room, alarmed at how quickly the two of you were able to sneak away from him, but he catches Jean’s signature mullet disappearing into the kitchen and Eren charges after him, knowing that he’ll find you there, too.
And as expected, he sees you giggling into Jean’s chest as his hands reach down to your hips, lifting you off the ground and onto the kitchen counter, “So, where’s my kiss?” Jean hums, leaning toward your face. Eren loudly clears his throat and Jean’s entire back tenses with annoyance before his eyes shift over to Eren. “Can I help you?”
“Reiner wants to play again, let’s rerack.”
“I think I’m done with beer pong for tonight.”
“Come on, double or nothing.”
“Eren, I’m good.” Jean makes a point of jerking his head in your direction as he stares at Eren with a stern expression.
Eren pretends like he doesn’t get the hint and steps closer, hopping up to sit on the counter next to you and swinging his feet. “What do you think of the party so far?” he asks as Jean steps back with a huff.
“I’m having a lot of fun,” you grin, holding your drink in your lap with both hands. “It’s not like the movies, but it’s still a lot of fun—it’s nice meeting everyone.”
“Some of my friends are really nice,” Eren says with a strained smile.
Jean clears his throat loudly, reminding the two of you that he’s still standing right there. “Hey, Eren, I think I heard Reiner calling for you in the other room.”
Eren tilts his head to look at Jean, his expression blank. “I didn’t hear anything.” Then he returns his gaze back to you, “So, do you want to play any more games? We might be able to get a round of Flip Cup going or something.”
“Ooo, what’s that?”
“Ok, fuck this,” Jean huffs under his breath before taking a step forward. He cages you against the counter with his arms on either side of your hips as he steps between your parted thighs, blocking Eren out of the conversation. He leans forward to whisper something into your ear, so quietly that Eren can’t hear, and you giggle in response when he leans away. “When you’re done talking with Eren, come find me upstairs,” Jean says with a wink before walking off.
“Upstairs?” Eren can’t hide his shock. “Upstairs?!”
You giggle again, kicking your feet in excitement before hopping down off of the counter. “He says he wants to kiss me.”
“Oh, he wants to do a lot more than that,” Eren spits. “You’ve known him for like two minutes, what the fuck?”
“I told you, I wanted to kiss someone at the party tonight.”
“But Jean?”
You shrug, “He seems nice.”
“He’s not. I heard from one of the guys from his hometown that he used to be a real fuckin’ bully in high school. I mean like, stuffing guys in lockers and stealing their lunch money, type shit.”
“That sounds made up,” you say, frowning. “Besides, he’s been nice to me all night.”
Eren sputters around a response—shocked. You’re not seriously going to go through with this, are you?
You hold your hands up in surrender. “I’m obviously not going to do anything I don’t feel comfortable doing with him, ok? You don’t have to worry about me. If he gets too pushy, I’ll tell him to stop.”
“How far do you plan on going? Are you going to lose your fucking virginity to him, too?”
Your eyes widen in alarm and you reach forward to clamp your palms over Eren’s mouth. “Hey! You don’t have to broadcast that I’m a loser to everyone at the party!”
He swats your hands away easily. “You’re not a loser for not having done anything with anyone—stop saying that. Don’t be in such a rush to have these experiences with some random person when you can wait for the right guy and have all of your firsts with him. It’ll be more special if it’s with someone you trust—someone you love.”
“I didn’t realize you were such a romantic,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “The whole concept of virginity and purity is just a social construct, anyway—none of it matters. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m less than just because I’m in university and I haven’t done things that other people have done in high school.”
“Who’s making you feel less than?” Eren asks, brows furrowing. “Don’t let what other people think dictate your actions.”
You sigh, relaxing your shoulders. “You’re right, I shouldn’t… but I am—so, please let me do this.”
Eren presses his face into his palms in frustration. He rubs his face harshly before running his hands up and through his hair, taking a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry. You don’t need my permission to do anything—go for it.” He forces a smile and shoots you a double thumbs up, and he can tell by the look on your face that you’re not quite convinced.
“Whatever, Eren. I’ll come find you later, ok?”
Eren nods, clasping his hands together and stuffing them between his thighs as he curls forward into himself, defeated.
He doesn’t know exactly how to communicate the way he feels about you and it’s freaking him out. You’ve always been the most important person in his life and the years he couldn’t be with you because of his ex were easily the worst years of his life. He’s angry that you want to waste your first kiss on one of his asshole friends because he wants you to be with him. And at this point, he knows he’s already making a fool of himself from how he’s been going out of his way to sabotage things between you and any guy that looks at you for longer than two seconds.
How much worse could things get if he was just honest with you? If he chased after you and told you explicitly how he felt and why he’s been acting so weird tonight—maybe you’ll take pity on him and just kiss him.
He could be ok with that.
Eren hops off the kitchen counter, determined to stop you before anything happens between you and Jean. He climbs up the stairs two at a time and is faced with a hallway full of doors—you and Jean are nowhere to be seen. Did you two really have that much of a head start on him? But it doesn’t matter, Eren knows which room is Connie’s, so he marches down the hallway and swings open the door—
But there’s no one there.
He sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils, gazing around the room in case the two of you are hidden away somewhere, but no luck. Eren steps out of the bedroom and walks instead into the bathroom, swinging the door open to find an unfortunate party guest curled up in a ball on the floor next to a toilet filled with puke. Eren wrinkles his nose at the sight, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. Where else could you be?
Through some stroke of luck, Eren hears the sound of giggling from the room behind him—your giggling. He swings open the door to Connie’s parent's bedroom to find Jean laid out on the bed with you straddling his lap.
The two of you jolt when the bedroom door swings against the wall and Jean sits up on his forearms, visibly annoyed. “What the fuck!”
“Eren? What are you doing here?”
“Yeah, Eren, what are you doing here?” Jean asks, holding you firmly down on his lap when you make a move to crawl off—the action turns Eren’s vision red.
“Jean, you—um—” Eren flounders around an excuse, taking another step into the bedroom as he watches the way your hands reach for Jean’s—have the two of you kissed yet? “Uh… Floch’s in the bathroom upstairs, he’s asking for you.”
“Um, ok? I’m a little busy.” Jean gestures to you perched on his lap—like it’s obvious—before rocking you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen in surprise and you lose your balance, falling forward with your palms on Jean’s chest.
Eren wonders if he’s capable of getting away with murder.
“We have to leave, Zeke’s on his way to pick us up,” Eren says, reaching forward and grabbing your wrist. 
“Already? We haven’t been here that long,” you protest, glancing between Eren and Jean with your lip between your teeth.
“Yeah, he said it’s now or never,” Eren says, and you start to crawl off of Jean’s lap. “I don’t want to pay for a cab.”
“Eren, what the fuck is going on?” Jean groans, sitting up fully and grabbing a pillow to cover his crotch when you climb back to your feet next to Eren.
“So sorry, Jean,” Eren sighs, relieved that you’re coming with him. “We gotta go—have a good night!”
“Whatever,” Jean hisses, flopping back onto the bed just as Eren walks you out into the hallway with him.
He tries to sneak you out of the party as best as he can—avoiding Reiner and Berthold so he doesn’t get dragged into another game, avoiding Connie because Eren knows he’s interested in you too, and just avoiding as much of the crowd as possible before slipping you out of the back door.
He has your wrist in a vice grip as you walk down Connie’s driveway back to Eren’s car. You stumble over your feet and you struggle to keep up with him as Eren charges down the road. “Eren! You’re hurting me! Let go!”
Like he’s been jolted with electricity, he drops your hand and pauses, staring at you with wide eyes. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”
You frown up at him, rubbing your wrist with your opposite hand. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I told you—we have to go.”
“No, Eren. You’ve been acting weird all night—just tell me what’s going on.”
He balls his hands into tight fists at his side, scrunching up his face as he tries to think of what to say—how to explain himself. He was so riled up in the kitchen about telling you how he felt, but now that you’re standing here in front of him—furious he cockblocked you—it’s hard for him to put his thoughts into words.
“Zeke said he’s on his way. I didn’t want you to get left behind,” he says, mentally kicking himself for chickening out.
The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the way back to the car (where Eren texts Zeke to come pick you both from the party), grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the flat in his trunk before settling into the car. He turns on the ignition just to get the heat going while you curl up on the seat beside him, nursing your bottle of water.
“I didn’t kiss him,” you sigh, and Eren feels his body relax for the first time tonight. “Mission failed.”
“That’s ok,” Eren hums, drinking from his bottle of water. “There will be other parties.”
“Yeah,” you sigh again, resting your head on the backrest as you look over at Eren beside you. “You were right though, it was a really stupid plan. I was so excited when Jean and I were flirting at the party, but when we were alone in the bedroom together I felt kinda… scared.”
Eren frowns. “Scared? Did he hurt you?”
“No, no, of course not,” you dismiss quickly, shaking your head. “I just… I felt like I didn’t really want to be there anymore but I felt bad because he was, um…”
“He was what?”
You gesture vaguely at your lap, refusing to meet Eren’s eyes. “Um… he was… hard.”
Eren snorts, rolling his eyes and taking another drink from his bottle. “He’ll survive. You don’t owe him anything just because his dick got a little excited.”
You laugh around the bottle as you take another sip. After a few loud gulps, you put the now empty bottle in one of Eren’s cupholders and brush away the spilled water on your chin with the heel of your hand. “I just… I don’t know, I woke up this morning and I decided that I was tired of being so inexperienced, but you were right, I shouldn’t have tried to rush it.”
“Did you have fun, at least?”
“Oh, yeah—I had loads of fun,” you grin up at him and Eren feels his heart rate quicken. “Thank you for bringing me with you, I had a really good time, even though I never got to kiss Jean.”
“I hear he’s a bad kisser anyway,” Eren says, and you snort.
“I wouldn’t have known.”
“I guess not.”
You sit up in your seat and look over at Eren. You scan over his face, his chest, his hands on the steering wheel—it makes him a little uncomfortable to sit with your gaze like this, and he shifts awkwardly in his seat. “What are you looking at?”
“I never feel uncomfortable when I’m around you.”
He chuckles anxiously, lowering his gaze down to his lap. “Uh, I would hope not. We’ve been friends forever.”
“Well, I mean, even around Armin I feel a little awkward sometimes… but I’m not like that when I’m around you.”
Eren fiddles with his rings, spinning them off of his fingers and then twisting them back on. “Yeah, I always feel comfortable when I’m around you.” Except for right now. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest from the attention you’re giving him right now. There’s just something about the way that you’re looking at him that’s getting Eren’s hopes up.
“Who was your first kiss?”
“My ex,” he says, risking a glance over at you, “why?”
“How did you know what to do?”
“I don’t know… we kind of just figured it out together.” Eren feels uncomfortable talking about her with you like this. 
“Do you think about it a lot?”
He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “No, I don’t think about it at all.”
“So, your first kiss wasn’t special.”
“I guess not,” Eren says as he looks over at you with a frown. “Her and I aren’t really friends anymore and I don’t wanna get back together with her, so I don’t really think about her anymore.”
“Do you regret it?”
He laughs nervously, running his palms across his thighs as he tries to stretch out in the confines of the car. “You’re asking a lot of difficult questions.”
“I’m just trying to understand.”
“I didn’t regret it at the time, but now, I kind of wish I had done it with someone that was more important to me.”
“Like who?”
Eren looks over at you. You’re perched in your seat, leaning forward onto the centre console with wide eyes and plush, moist lips. He feels his face soften as he looks at you—as he imagines his first kiss with you—but he doesn’t say anything. The tension in the car is thick as the two of you sit there staring at one another. He can hear each soft breath you take and if he looks closely, he can see the way your pupils dilate as you look into his eyes. 
“Can I kiss you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. 
He sucks his cheeks into his mouth, making quick, little nods as he tries to keep his cool while his heart threatens to burst out of his chest. “Thought you said you didn’t want to.”
“I thought you were just making fun of me earlier… but… if you’re into it—”
“Yeah, I’m into it.”
“I trust you more than anyone,” you say, as if trying to justify it but Eren’s already sold.
He tosses his empty bottle into the backseat and then quickly leans forward on the centre console, toward you—but you jerk back and away from him. “Shit, sorry,” he hisses, sitting back in his seat.
You laugh nervously. “Uh, no… it’s ok, I’m just—I’m new to this, right? So, I just need you to be…”
“Slow,” he finishes for you, and you nod. He swallows thickly, leaning forward again—slowly this time—and rests there for a moment until you lean toward him. He can tell you’re nervous, too. Little beads of sweat dot your hairline and your breathing is quick and shallow. Not that Eren is the picture of composure right now, either. He can feel the burn of embarrassment in his cheeks and his back feels slick with sweat—but he tries to hold it together. “Do you want me to lean in or…?”
You raise your hands to his face, ghosting around his head before pulling them back against your chest. “I don’t know where to put my hands.”
Eren reaches forward to grab your wrist—slow and gentle—and guides your hand up to his face, cupping his jaw in your palm. “Hold me like this, and then with your other hand, uh…” he guides it to his chest, pressing your hand right over his heart. “Here, see? Can you feel my heartbeat? I’m just as nervous as you are.”
You laugh and lean in a little further. “Why are you nervous?”
Because I like you.
“I don’t know,” he says.
Eren cups your opposite jaw with his hand, tilting your face slightly to the side, and running his thumb across the warmth on your cheek. He leans in a little further, brushing his nose against yours, and he hears your breath catch in your throat. “Are you ready?”
“I… I think so,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.
Eren closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, chaste kiss. You’re a little stiff—a little awkward—as you lean into the kiss. Your lips are so rigidly puckered that there’s almost no intimacy in it at all. He holds like that for a moment—despite every muscle in his body urging him to try to deepen the kiss—before pulling away just enough to speak.
“Try to relax your lips a little bit.” He tilts his head until his lips are pressed against the palm of your hand and he demonstrates the motion by softly kissing your hand, “Like this.”
“Ok,” you whisper, breath hot against his cheek.
The second time he moves in to kiss you is already significantly better than before, your lips are soft when Eren presses against you, but you’re not quite kissing back. He tries to deepen the kiss by pressing into you a little harder, moving his lips against yours, and breathing in your scent, but you’re giving him… nothing.
“Try to copy what I’m doing,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. “Like you’re trying to kiss my lower lip, over and over again.”
You hum in response and awkwardly start to follow his motions and this—this!—is exactly what he wants. He applies a little more pressure as the two of you move together and the longer you kiss, the more comfortable and soft you become. You lean more into Eren’s body, clutching his t-shirt with one hand while the other curls around the back of his neck. Eren slides his hand to the back of your head to pull you closer and he’s rewarded by a soft moan that jolts electricity straight down his spine.
“Can I—can I use my tongue?” he asks, breathless. Right, he’s supposed to come up for air every once in a while.
You take a few deep breaths, lashes fluttering as you look up into his eyes, and then back down to his lips. You brush your nose against his, eager. “Yeah—please.”
This next kiss is hungry—Eren’s quickly beginning to lose his composure. Although you’re a little uncoordinated at first, you’re a quick learner, and soon Eren’s hand is gripping the hair on the back of your head, tugging gently and drawing out louder and louder moans from you. With the addition of his tongue in your mouth, it’s all too easy for him to imagine things going further with you. 
He pictures looming overtop of you in the backseat of his car, your thighs on either side of his hips. He pictures sliding his hand up the bottom hem of the dress he helped you pick out, fingertips brushing against that soft, wet spot between your legs while you whine into his mouth.
The thought has him groaning into you, shifting his lips away from yours to pepper kisses along your jawline. You’re panting heavily in his ear, still clutching his shirt tightly as you struggle to catch your breath. Eren presses his lips just behind your ear before trailing his mouth down the column of your neck and with his lips against your pulse point, he can feel how quickly your heart is beating.
You squirm in your seat, “Eren, that… it feels good.”
He hums against your throat, gently sinking his teeth into the skin to the sound of your moans before swiping his tongue across the mark. “Is there anything else you want me to teach you,” he asks, breathless.
“Yeah, um…” you pull away from this kiss, looking up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes. You drag your hand down his chest, resting on his belt as Eren holds his breath. Your gaze drops to Eren’s lap—to the strain of his cock against his jeans.
“You can touch it if you want,” he whispers, and your hand shifts to his thigh. He feels like he’s the virgin here, as your hand gently ghosts across the bulge in his pants. He’s desperate for you to touch him, but at the same time, he’s worried that he’s going to immediately lose it.
You hesitate, looking down at Eren’s cock with shaky breaths. Just as Eren thinks you’re going to pull your hand away, you gently lower it onto his cock and he groans from the warmth of your palm.
“Oh!” you squeak, surprised. “It’s hard.”
Eren laughs, “Yeah, that’s all because of you.”
You wrinkle your nose at him but gently squeeze him through his jeans before softly moving up and down his length. Eren throws his head back, gritting his teeth as his hips buck against your hand—he’s about to fucking cum from an over-the-pants handjob.
“Does it hurt?”
“Definitely not,” he responds through clenched teeth. 
“Can I see it?”
Eren sucks in another sharp breath, quickly moving his hands to his belt buckle as he works on undoing it. “Yeah, yeah—of course, you can,” he says, fumbling with the strap as he tries to free it from the clasp.
HOOOOOOOOOONK!
The two of you jolt in surprise, jumping against either end of the car when you hear a loud car horn from nearby. Annoyed, Eren wipes his palm across the window to clear the steam on the glass and is met with Zeke grinning at him from the car beside Eren’s. He makes a point to wave before he lays on the horn again.
HOOOOOOOOOONK!
“We’re coming! We’re coming!”
He turns back to you with a huff, running both hands through his hair to try to calm himself down as he looks at you apologetically, but you’re already working on the door and heading out—leaving Eren alone in the heat of the car, and Eren has to sit with his forehead against the steering wheel until his boner goes away.
“You got here fast,” he huffs, slamming the door behind him as he crawls into the backseat of Zeke’s car.
“When my brother calls, I answer,” Zeke says, smirking at Eren from the rearview window and he backs out of Connie’s driveway. “What were the two of you doing in the car? I thought you were here for a party.”
“I got a little too drunk,” you lie easily, smoothing your dress over your lap, keeping your head down. “Eren got me a bottle of water and we were just hanging out until the spins went away.”
“Ah, that’s right—it was your first party, so your first time drinking, too?”
“I’ve had wine for special occasions with dinner, but I’ve never gotten drunk before.”
Zeke hums in approval, “And Eren took care of you? That’s surprising.”
Eren’s knee bounces in the backseat, gently rattling the car as Zeke drives through the country and back to the highway. If Zeke hadn’t arrived, you could be holding Eren’s cock in your hands right now. He could be teaching you how to stroke him—show you how to spit on it to get it nice and slick.
But instead, Eren’s stuck in the backseat with sore balls while you’re sobering up in the front. You’ll probably run up to bed as soon as you get home, leaving Eren to jerk himself off in the basement while he thinks about how soft your lips felt against his.
He rests his head against the cool window pane and watches the trees rush by as you and Zeke talk to one another quietly in the front seat. Eren wonders if you had gotten as worked up as he did during your makeout session, or if it was all just for the sake of learning.
Were you still thinking about the way his body felt against yours? The way your breath hitched when Eren kissed down your neck or how much you loved getting your hair pulled? Did all that kissing make you wet for him, squirming in the front seat to hide your discomfort from Eren’s older brother as you tried to hold a conversation about school?
He hopes that you can forget about this all in the morning—that the two of you can just go back to the way things were before and pretend it never happened. Maybe you’ll end up messaging Jean and kissing him the way Eren taught you.
The thought makes him bristle, but he tries to push the feeling away.
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When Zeke parks the car at the Jaeger residence, he gently reminds you both that the guest room is upstairs with a knowing smirk. Eren just rolls his eyes—not like anything is going to happen between the two of you.
“Goodnight, guys,” Eren says, whispering in the darkness of his home as you follow Zeke upstairs. He lingers by the base of the stairs until you disappear around the corner, and then with a frustrated sigh, Eren makes his descent into the basement.
He flops face-first onto his bed with a groan, already feeling the ache in his cock from the memory of your lips against his. Eren rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room as he works on the buckle of his belt, finding it much easier to undo without the added pressure of your heavy gaze on him.
He palms at his crotch through his underwear, hissing at the pressure as the tip of his cock leaks against his leg. He imagines you laying in bed in the guestroom above him, your own hand drifting between your thighs to the same memory of tonight.
He resigns himself to a night of jerking off to the lingering smell of your perfume on his shirt, but then he hears the familiar buzz of his phone on his nightstand—the designated heartbeat vibration that you set for yourself as a joke—and he jolts out of bed.
You: I think I need more practice
Eren feels his heart jump into his throat from your message. His thumbs hover anxiously over the keys, unsure of how to respond, but then he sees a second message come through.
You: Can I come downstairs?
Eren: Do you think you can without Zeke noticing?
You: I don’t care about Zeke
Eren: Yeah Eren: Come here
Eren climbs to his feet and immediately starts cleaning up his room. He shoves clothes that he had thrown across the ground haphazardly into the closet, tidies up his desk of any garbage and old dishes, and sprays a bit of cologne onto his neck and crotch—just in case.
Sure, you were in his room earlier today, but now things are different. Everything feels electric and he doesn’t want something like his dirty laundry to ruin the mood.
He is midway through trying to force the doors of his closet shut when he hears the gentle tap tap of you knocking on his bedroom door. He pauses immediately, feeling his heartbeat in his ears as he shifts his gaze over to the closed door. Standing up tall, he runs both hands through his hair to smooth down his brown locks before stepping over to the door and swinging it open.
“Hey,” you smile, breathless. You’ve changed into your pyjamas, a cute set with a short-sleeve cotton button-up and matching shorts.
He grins, reaching forward to loop his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Hey,” he says, right before pressing his mouth against yours.
You return his kiss with fervour, hands reaching up to wrap around Eren’s neck as you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. Eren grunts into your mouth, hands shifting to cup your ass as he carries you into his room and onto his bed.
He lays you out on your back on his mattress, pulling away only to admire the way your skin looks against his bedsheets. He’s already breathing hard with flushed cheeks, just from kissing, but you look just as wrecked as he does as you squirm beneath him on the bed.
“I’ve never done this before,” you whisper, a quiet reminder as Eren runs his palm along your waist. “Be gentle with me.”
“Of course,” he promises, leaning down to kiss you again. “We’ll go at your pace, ok? Tell me what you want.”
You swallow hard when Eren’s mouth trails down your throat, your hands twisted in his hair as you tug him closer to your skin. He presses more of his weight against your body, kneeling between your spread-open thighs on the bed as his arms wrap around your waist. “You look really cute,” he says, nipping at your neck and you moan. You squirm against him, needy for something you’ve never felt before, and Eren feels his mind grow hazy.
“Can you touch me?” you ask, an airy whisper against Eren’s hairline as he kisses across your collarbones.
“Where?” He moves his hands from around your waist, sliding up and down your sides, and gently tracing the curve of your breasts. You tug your lip between your teeth, eyes half-lidded at you look up at Eren, nodding slightly when he moves his palm across your chest.
He squeezes your breasts softly and your legs squeeze around his hips in response, making his breath catch in his throat. You’re not wearing a bra under your pyjamas, he can feel the absence of it through the thin cotton, and as he brushes his thumb across your already pert nipples, you whimper.
“Like that?” he asks, and you nod furiously. He moves his hands to the centre of your chest and starts to work on the buttons, watching the way your chest heaves with every breath and he moves down your stomach.
Eren pulls your shirt open and groans at the sight of your exposed breasts—rising and falling with each breath that you take. He brings a hand up to his mouth, licking his thumb, before bringing his hand back down to grab you, and he uses the slick digit to slide across your hardened nipple.
“Eren!” you squeal, arching your back into his touch as he flicks his thumb forward and back over the nub. He can see the small goosebumps across your skin from the cold at the same time that you darken in arousal and it drives him insane. 
Hovering over the opposite nipple, he lets a long line of drool spill from his lips until it lands on your nipple. You squirm from the feeling, gasping again when Eren’s opposite hand reaches out to pinch it between two fingers. 
“Oh my God, Eren,” you whimper, biting your lip hard as your head twists against the pillows. Your body is rolling against him, hips bucking up and seeking friction to alleviate the need as he plays with your chest.
He reaches down to shove his half-undone pants off of his hips so he can press his barely-clothed cock against you, instantly feeling the heat of your arousal against him as he does. With a deep groan, his head falls forward against your shoulder as he struggles not to fuck into you just like this—he’s so turned on it hurts.
“Where else?” he urges, desperate. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
You struggle to speak as Eren gently pinches and pulls at your nipples, his mouth salivating at the thought of taking you into his mouth, but he’s trying to take things slow. He’s trying to let you set the pace, lest he completely ravages you.
You reach a hand down from Eren’s hair, grabbing the wrist of his hand and he stills his movements completely. He lifts his head from your shoulder to look up at your face as you gently pull his hand off of your breast. Holding eye contact, you drag his hand down your body until it rests firmly between your thighs.
“I need you here,” you say, like you have absolutely no idea what those words will do to him.
“Have you ever touched yourself before?” You shake your head from side to side and Eren feels like he’s just been gifted the greatest thing in the world. “Have you ever had an orgasm?”
“I think so.”
“Ok, so you haven’t,” Eren chuckles, running his tongue across his lower lip. “Sit up for me,” he says with a nod, standing up onto his knees and making his way over to your side.
You shrug your pyjama top off as Eren settles onto the bed behind you, scooching the two of you back until he’s lying back against the headrest and you’re lying back against his chest. He can’t help himself from grabbing and palming at your breasts and he makes himself comfortable with his chin on your shoulder.
“I’m going to show you how to do it, so you can do it yourself,” he explains, and your breathing stutters.
He slides his hands down your stomach to your thighs, gently running his palms down to your knees before dragging them back up to your hips, using his thumbs to press into your inner thigh as he does, dragging up the hem of your shorts.
“I’m not an expert at this, so I’ll need you to tell me if it feels good, ok?” he hums, brushing his lips against the bare skin on your shoulders. You let out a shaky breath in response, nodding jerkily as Eren’s hands come up to the waistband of your shorts.
He hooks his thumbs under your clothes, nudging for you to lift your hips as he drags them down past your knees, where you kick them off to the side, leaving you in just a pair of black, lacy underwear. The sexy thong you have on contrasts harshly with your innocence and does something to Eren’s brain that makes everything feel fuzzy.
Eren spreads your thighs open by laying them across his legs, keeping you open for him, even when your knees try to cave together. With one hand on your stomach, holding you in place against his chest, he moves his other between your legs to cup you through your underwear. And just like he suspected, you’re soaking.
He groans against your skin as he moves his fingers against the slick, wet mess seeping through the fabric of your underwear. From over your shoulder, as he pulls his fingers away, he can even see the strings of your arousal stretch and snap against him.
“You’re so horny,” he whispers, throat tight. “You need it bad, huh?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, voice low. “Eren, can you please—?”
He smiles, petting your entrance softly with his fingers before dragging them up to your clit, and the contact makes you jerk immediately. “Does this feel good?” he asks, applying gentle pressure in smooth, circular motions.
Your hips squirm against him as you breathe out sharp puffs of air. “Yeah—yeah, that—it’s good.”
“This is where all your nerves are,” he explains, listening closely for each hitch in your breath as he increases—decreases—the pressure of his fingers, trying to find that sweet spot that has you mewling in his ear. “This is what you’re gonna wanna do if you’re touching yourself.”
You bite your lip so hard the skin around it turns white, your eyes clenching shut as you focus on the feeling, but Eren tuts and gives you two soft slaps against your cunt. “Open your eyes, I want you to watch me.”
Blinking your eyes open, you look up at Eren with hazy, tear-lined eyes, your lips plump and swollen from kissing and biting—and you look nothing like the sweet, innocent girl that was here in Eren’s room earlier today. Your gaze swings from Eren’s face to down between your legs, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of Eren’s hands on your body.
“Take over for me,” he hums, sliding his hand onto your thigh. You whimper and lurch your hips forward to chase him, but his other hand keeps you firmly in place against your chest. “Show me what you learned.”
Your chin drops to your chest as you move your hand between your legs, copying Eren’s motions from before as you find your clit and rub gentle circles through your underwear. He can feel the muscles in your thighs tensing beneath his hand as your pleasure builds and your head falls back against Eren’s shoulder.
“Does it feel good?” he asks and you moan softly in response. He trails his hands across your body, moving to the waistband of your underwear as he starts to tug it down your hips. “Now, take these off.”
Your skin is hot to the touch, breathing fast and shallow, and your hips twitch and keen up against Eren’s touch as he moves both hands to your inner thighs, spreading you open for him as he looks down at your pussy from between the mounds of your breasts.
“Eren, you’re better at it—can you please—?” your words are choppy and airy as your hands reach out to grab at his wrists, trying to pull him toward your aching cunt. Eren imagines a world where you can’t figure out how to get yourself off—where you have to come to him to find pleasure.
“Ok,” he coos, teasingly, “but you have to pay attention, ok?” 
This time, when he touches you, he presses the pad of his thumb flat against your clit, leaving his fingers open to toy and play with your pussy. You’re so wet, he’s just slipping his fingers against your skin, collecting the slick on his digits while his tongue grows heavy in his mouth—he wonders if you’ll let him taste you.
“I’m going to go inside you now,” he says, shifting his free hand to grab your chin, making sure you're looking down between your legs. “It might hurt a little, but just try to relax.”
He tries to pick his thinnest finger to push inside of you, but they’re all thicker and longer than yours. He opts for his ring finger, pushing past the slippery folds into your entrance to the first knuckle, groaning at the wet warmth of your walls as they squeeze around him.
“How’s that?” he asks, carefully working it in and out of you, pushing deeper each time.
Your hips squirm against him, rubbing his cock between the globes of your ass as you do. “I want more.”
He pushes deeper and deeper, meeting no resistance as he slips his entire finger into you. You squeeze around his digit in tight, little pulses that has Eren’s cock throbbing against your back—you’re so tight.
Eren starts to fuck you with his finger, pulling in and out while his thumb maintains pressure against your clit. Your arousal coats his finger, dripping down between your legs with each pump of his hand, but slowly you start to loosen up around him as you begin to relax.
“Look at how wet you are for me,” he groans, pulling out until just the tip of his finger remains, showing how slick and shiny his skin is from you. “I’m gonna do another one, ok?”
You moan loudly when Eren pushes a second finger into you—hands clawing at Eren’s thighs as your back arches hard off of his chest. “Oh my God, Eren!” you cry, body trembling, “That feels so good—that feels so good.”
He moves his palm to cover your mouth, shushing you as his fingers curl against that spongey bundle of nerves inside of you that has your toes curling. “My family is upstairs,” he reminds you, but he picks up his pace just to hear more of your muffled moans against his hand.
The wet squelch of your cunt around his fingers has him breathing hard into your neck—all he can think about is how perfectly your pussy is moulding around his fingers, how easily you’re able to take him with how wet and eager you are. His cock is making a mess in his underwear, leaking precum and soaking through the fabric as his hips grind against your ass. He wants to be greedy—he wants to stuff his cock inside of you—but he has to keep reminding himself that this is your first time, you’re just learning.
Your legs start to shake on either side of him and Eren can feel you squeezing hard around his fingers as you moan into his palm. “Does it feel good?” he asks, even though he can already tell, and he grins when you start to nod. “You’re close, I can tell. It’s ok to cum—just let go.”
Your stomach flexes and tightens under his arm as your pleasure builds and you start squirming in his grip—fuck, your first orgasm! Eren feels lucky to be the one to give it to you.
He keeps his steady pace of fucking his fingers into your cunt as his thumb presses against your clit, and soon he feels your chest tighten as you hold your breath—one, two, three—and with a muffled moan, you cum on Eren’s fingers.
“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, breathing hard as you tighten around him, clenching and squeezing his fingers as you body shakes and your eyes roll back into your head. Eren works you through it, listening to your breathing and waiting for your body to relax against his before he stops moving. With great delight, he looks between your breasts as he pulls his fingers from inside of you, groaning at the sight of the creamy, white ring around his knuckles.
Your hands are still shaking when you reach out to grab his wrist. “I’m s-sorry, Eren,” you say inbetween breaths.
“Why are you apologizing?” Eren asks, voice strained. His other hand has shifted down from it’s hold on your mouth to your chest and underneath his palm he can feel the rapid beating of your heart in your chest. “You did really good, I’m so proud of you.”
Your thighs tense from his praise, moving to snap shut but Eren still has your legs hanging over his own to keep you open. And while you’re still catching your breath, Eren brings his fingers up to his lips to suck the sour taste of your pussy off of them.
Removing his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop! he laughs and presses a kiss into your cheek. “You taste really good, did you know that? I can show you how to cum with my tongue, next.”
“I need a break,” you sigh, dramatically wiping the back of your palm across the sweat on your forehead.
Eren allows you to shift, sitting up off of Eren’s lap and instead on your knees between his thighs, facing him as Eren pulls off his shirt. Despite it all, he feels a little exposed in front of you like this—thighs spread with his cock hard against his thigh—especially with the way your eyes seem to devour every inch of him.
“I never got to see your dick,” you remind him, eyes lingering on the tent in his boxers.
“Do you still wanna?” he teases, hiding his excitement behind a devious grin, and you shock him by reaching forward and hooking your fingers under the waistband of his underwear.
Eren lifts his hips as you tug them off, dragging the waistband across the length of his cock until it springs to life against his stomach. It’s slick with precum and red from neglect, and you stare at it with wide, curious eyes.
“It’s so big,” you say, and Eren tries to keep his ego in check by reminding himself that you’re a virgin.
“Do you wanna touch it?” He grips his cock by the base, lifting it upright from where it lays across his abs, and there’s already a thick string of precum connecting his stomach to the tip of his cock.
You nervously reach out to touch him, delicately wrapping your fingers around him and—ok, wow, he looks really big in your hands. Your touch is still faint, even with him in your grasp, he can hardly feel you.
“Squeeze it a little harder—it’s not gonna break,” he directs, and you shoot him a hesitant look before redirecting your attention back to your hand and squeezing it a little harder. It would be cute if Eren wasn’t so fucking horny.
He reaches out with his free hand, covering your hand with his palm as he shows you how hard he likes to be squeezed and you squeak in alarm. Now with his hand around yours, he slowly starts to move your palm up and down along his length. You’re still looking at him like he’s some sort of science experience as he shows you how to jerk him off—eyes full of wonder—but he can tell this is turning you on by the way your thighs press together.
“This feels good,” he says, stroking along his length, “but it feels better if you touch up here.” He slides your palm all the way up to the tip of his cock, using your hand to squeeze another fat drop of precum from his tip before working your grip around the head. Eren groans from the feeling of your soft hand rubbing along the ridge of his cock and you tug your lip between your teeth in delight.
“I can do it, Eren,” you say, swatting his hand away from yours before grasping him now with both hands. Eren throws his head back against the headrest with a dull thunk! and a deep moan as you start to work along his length.
“You learn quick,” he says through gritted teeth, looking down his nose at his cock in your hands. There’s just something about seeing his pretty, little, best friend like this that has his cock leaking all over your knuckles.
You run your tongue across your bottom lip and start to inch back, lowering your face down toward Eren’s dick. At first he thinks that you’re just trying to get a closer look—but then your mouth falls open and Eren watches a line of drool spill from between your lips onto the head of his cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses, hands balling into fists at his sides as his cock throbs against your hand. “Where did you learn that?”
“From you,” you say, flashing him a smirk. “You did it to me, remember?”
Eren’s having a hard time thinking about anything, right now, but he just nods—not wanting you to stop. “That feels really fucking good—keep going.”
“Can I put it in my mouth?”
Your words have Eren’s hips bucking up into your hands, groaning loudly as his cheeks burn in arousal. “What? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you reply sheepishly, looking up at Eren through your lashes. “Feeling you in my hand like this is making my mouth water—I really want to taste you, Eren.”
“Holy fuck, yes—yes! Put it in your mouth!” he can’t contain his excitement when you bat your eyelashes at him like that. Do you even realize how sexy you’re being right now? Eren’s having a hard time believing that you’re really a virgin—where did you learn this?
You break out into a smile that’s so big, Eren’s sure your cheeks hurt, but then he watches you shimmy a little further back on the bed, lifting your ass up into the air and planting down onto your forearms. You lick your lips, hands slipping down to the base of Eren’s cock as you direct it toward your face. Eren watches your jaw fall open, lips stretching to accommodate his girth, before slowly taking the leaking tip of his cock into your mouth.
You’re warm and wet as you wrap your lips around him—just the tip—but you experimentally suck on his cock while your tongue flicks against his slit.
“Shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to cup your face as he curls forward. “That feels good—keep going.”
Your eyes crinkle in amusement, but you keep a tight seal around Eren’s cock as you start to take him deeper into your mouth. Eren’s own jaw hangs open as he watches you gently bob up and down around the tip of his cock, drool leaking down his length and pooling around your hands as you hold him upright.
“Take a bit more.” His voice is strained when he speaks, moving one hand to the back of your head as he starts to push you down on his length. He keeps his movement gentle, never pushing you too much, and giving you the space to pull back when you need to, but with his direction you’re able to fill your mouth with his cock until the tip is pushing against the back of your throat.
He watches you wince slightly from the feeling, eyes pricking with tears and Eren coos at you softly. “You don’t have to take it all—it’s ok, just whatever you can.”
You pull up along his length, following your mouth with your hand as you smear his length with your spit. You let the ridge of his cockhead slip between your lips before lowering back down as much as you can, twisting your wrist as you do so in a way that makes Eren’s toes curl.
He groans loudly as you work along his cock—sucking and drooling and jerking him off. Your cheeks hollow around his length as you suck and Eren can feel your tongue moving back and forth along the bottom of his cock as you bob your head. “You’re really good at this,” he says, trying to commit this scene to memory.
You keep trying to take him into your throat—you poor thing—but each time you try to press his cock past the tight ring, you clench hard around him as you gag, pulling back quickly with tears in your eyes. “Fuck, if you keep doing that you’re going to make me cum,” he says, breathing hard.
You pull off of him all at once, gasping for breath as strings of spit and precum trail from your mouth to his cock. Inbetween breaths you say, “Wait, no—can we have sex?”
His dick twitches in your hand. “You want to have sex? Are you sure?”
You nod, crawling back up the bed until you’re sitting up on your knees again, sticky palms resting on Eren’s chest. “I’ve never been more sure.”
He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you fully into his lap, straddling your legs on either side of his hips. “You don’t need to be in a rush—you’ve already learned a lot today, we can stop now.”
“I don’t want to stop,” you insist, and you’re pouting, now. “Don’t you want to have sex with me, Eren?”
He takes in a shaky breath, feeling his face soften as he looks at you. Yes, he absolutely wants to have sex with you—
But he wants it to mean something. As easy as it would be to agree to your request and fuck you here and now, he doesn’t want you to leave in the morning and have things go back to the way they were before. It’s bad enough he’s let things go this far. He’s never going to be able to get the image of your lips wrapped around his cock out of his head—or the way you feel when you’re cumming on his fingers.
“I really want to have sex with you,” he assures you, hands moving up and down along your waist, “but I don’t—”
“If we don’t do it now, then we’ll never do it,” you say, interrupting him with an annoyed groan. You cross your arms over your chest as you level Eren with a stern look. “I’m never going to get this chance with you again.”
Your choice of words has Eren tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
You press your lips into a tight, thin line, hesitating. Eren can see the gears in your head turning as you try to put your thoughts into words, speaking after a dense silence. “I like you—I have for a while now, and it’ll kill me if we don’t see this through.”
He wrinkles his nose at you, struggling to contain his excitement. “You like me? Ew, gross.”
“Eren!”
He cackles, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist to keep you close when you try to squirm away. He’s smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt and he feels like his whole body is buzzing. You like him—you like him? Why didn’t you say that sooner!
“Look—I know it’s stupid, but you were right. I want to look back on the night I lose my virginity and feel good about the person I lost it to, so I want to lose it to you, Eren. You’re the only guy I’ve ever trusted like this, and it’s ok if you just want to be friends in the morning because I’ll always have this.”
“What if I don’t want to be friends in the morning?” he asks, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. “What if I like you, too? What would happen then?”
You return your hands to his chest, sliding them up his shoulders, to around the back of his neck. Carding your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, you look into Eren’s eyes with a narrowed gaze. “Well… if you like me and I like you… then I guess, we should probably date each other.”
Eren grins. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m cool with that,” he says, and then he closes the gap between you both when he sees your lips twitch up into a smile, pressing into you for a soft, slow kiss. “In that case, of course, I’ll fuck my girlfriend.” The word feels like electricity on his tongue.
Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. You’re his girlfriend.
“You’re so annoying,” you groan, but you’re still smiling against Eren’s mouth as he peppers you with kisses. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?”
“Dunno. Scared.”
“That’s so stupid.”
“Coming from the girl that almost made out with one of my friends,” he scoffs, and you lean back to smack him lightly across the chest.
“Ok, come on! Are we doing this or not?” You roll your hips forward, smearing your wet pussy across the length of Eren’s cock and he groans—any hardness he lost during your conversation springing back in an instant.
“Yeah, yeah—fuck. Just let me grab a—”
As he leaning over to his bedside table to grab a condom, you reach out for his wrist, stilling him. “No, can we…?”
Eren gulps, his cock twitching against his stomach as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Yeah—fuck it. Let’s do it raw.”
You groan, rolling your eyes, but you allow Eren to lift your hips up as he guides the head of his cock to your entrance. “You’re being weird, now. Stop it.”
“Sorry, I’m just happy,” he admits, and he’s still smiling from before, but then his brows pinch as he rubs his cockhead against your slit, coating himself in your arousal. “Can you relax for me? This might hurt a little, but I need you to trust me.”
“Of course, Eren,” you say, settling your hands on his shoulders for stability.
“Take as much as you can, but take it slow, ok?” Eren presses his cock against your entrance, holding it there with his fist around the base of his cock as you slowly lower your hips and sink down onto him.
He sucks in a sharp breath at the tight pressure of your pussy around the head of his cock as you take him. Eren’s eyes flick up to your face—despite wanting to watch the way he disappears inside of you—to gauge your reaction, and your face is scrunched up in discomfort.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” you say, but your voice is strained. 
He shifts his hands to your hips, holding you in place as your thighs tremble on either side of him. “It’s ok, take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you take slow, measured breaths. Eren’s biceps bulge and stiffen from the effort of holding you up, but it’s worth it as he slowly watches your face relax and you start to inch yourself downward.
“Try—oh, fuck—try going back up before taking me deeper,” Eren cuts himself off with a shuddered breath as you squeeze around him. He digs his blunt nails into the meat of your hips as he tries to control himself while you cunt drools along the length of his cock. Heeding his advice, you gently lift yourself up until just the tip of his dick is nestled inside of you, before lowering back down again and taking him deeper. 
Your face is still tense and your grip on his shoulders is punishing, but you slowly work Eren’s cock into your virgin hole until he’s completely sheathed inside of you. Eren carefully loosens his hold on your hips and allows you to sink your full weight onto his lap, taking quick breaths through his nostrils to try to keep his composure as he’s engulfed in your warmth.
You scrunch your nose, gently rocking in his lap as you try to get accustomed to his size. “I feel like you’re in my lungs,” you say and Eren snorts.
“You’re really making me feel like a stud tonight,” he laughs. “How does it feel?”
You hum, searching for the words as you squeeze around him. “Unfamiliar, but at the same time… it feels good. Like I’m full.”
“Wanna try moving?” he asks, praying that you do.
“What do I do? Just like—bounce on it?”
You laugh like it’s a joke, but Eren nods encouragingly. “Yeah, just bounce on it. I can help you.”
With a look of concentration, you grip Eren’s shoulders for stability and slowly lift yourself up from his lap with the aid of his hands on your hips. He groans from the drag of his cock through your walls as you sit up, and you moan along with him when you lower back down.
You’re a little jerky and uncoordinated at first, but after a few experimental bounces and with Eren’s help, you’re able to build a rhythm on his lap that has your nails digging into his skin as you whimper. “Oh my God, it feels so good, Eren.”
He nods in approval, breathing hard as he watches your breasts rise and fall with every bounce. You feel incredible—so fucking incredible—and he’s not sure how long he can last with you riding him like this, but he doesn’t want you to be unsatisfied the first time you have sex.
“Can I try something?” he asks through gritted teeth, gripping you a little harder around your hips as he plants his feet into the mattress and his shoulders into the headrest, shifting his hips slightly. When you nod at him, he raises you up from his lap and starts thrusting up into you.
With a stuttered moan, you fall forward into his chest as Eren fucks you—gasping and moaning with your face buried into his neck as Eren bullies his cock into you with every snap of his hips. With the way your nails are clawing into his skin, Eren can tell that he’s hitting you at just the right angle now to get you off.
The sounds between your bodies are wet and loud with every thrust, your skin slapping against each other, and your pussy leaving a mess against the dark hairs at the base of Eren’s cock. Your moans against his neck just send more and more heat flooding to the surface of his skin, beads of sweat rolling down the column of his throat, his chest, and the nape of his neck.
“Eren, I’m gonna cum again,” you say, almost apologetic against his skin as your body tenses around him. “Oh, fuck—Eren!”
“That’s it, come on—cum for me,” he grunts, feeling the lustful haze he’s been trying to fight off finally consume him as he nears his own orgasm. He should be cooing softly in your ear, brushing your hair out of your face as you lose yourself around him, but now—all he can think of is how he absolutely wants to ruin you.
His fingers press bruises into your skin as he starts to force you down onto his lap, meeting each upward snap of his hips. Each breath is harder and harder to catch as he works himself to exhaustion, chasing your high as his own quickly follows. “Let me feel you fucking squeeze me,” he says through each strained breath, “show this pussy what it’s like to cum on a fucking cock.”
You whimper his name when you cum—thighs trembling on either side of his hips and toes curling into his sheets. Your nails dig lines into the muscles of his back at the same time that your sweet, virgin cunt clamps down around Eren’s cock.
“That’s it—fuck—that’s fuckin it, baby!” He’s laughing now, riding the high of his quickly building orgasm. He throws his head back against the headrest, slamming you down onto his lap as he looks down his nose at your trembling body.
You’re still going through the waves of your orgasm and whimpering his name, probably verging on the edge of overstimulation as Eren’s cock pushes against your tight walls. Your words quickly turn into mindless babbling when Eren’s grip shifts to your ass, squeezing you hard as his hips pound against yours.
“This is my pussy now, got it?” He smacks your ass with his palm and you jolt against his chest. “Look how perfect she is for me—how messy she gets. Nobody else gets to feel you like this, not when you fit so perfectly around my cock.”
Eren sits up, letting you fall onto your back on the mattress as he looms over you on his knees. His cock slips out from inside of you in the movement and he grabs himself around the base and slaps at your clit with the head.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he says through gritted teeth, tendons in his jaw twitching as he looks down at your body—sprawled across his mattress in a breathless, sweaty mess. You’re cunt is slick and shiny from your arousal and Eren feels like he’s going to lose his mind.
He runs his cock through the lips of your pussy, nudging your clit before pushing back into you, groaning through his teeth as he watches you squirm from the feeling. “Do you like that? When I stuff you like this?” he punctuates his statement with a snap of his hips that has your hands scrambling for purchase on his sheets.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he hisses, hands shifting to your hips to hold you in place as he thrusts into you. “That’s what you’ve wanted all night, right? You’ve been begging for it all night—someone to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. Isn’t that right?”
He’s delirious as he barrels towards his orgasm, breathing hard with every movement. The bed is squeaking and scraping against the floor and your moans are echoing off the walls of Eren’s bedroom. He grunts and pants, feeling the familiar tightness in his gut as his nears his orgasm.
“Eren, I’m—” you reach out for him, nails just barely reaching his abs as he pounds into you, and he can feel it—the clench of your pussy around his cock as you start to cum again. It completely sends him over the edge and with a deep, gutteral moan he cums—hot white shooting into the tightness of your cunt with every pulse of his cock.
Eren’s vision goes white and he collapses ontop of you, holding himself up by his forearms on either side of your head as he gasps for air. Your arms and legs wrap around his body, pulling him tight against your chest and Eren feels the slick heat of your sweaty skin against his as he presses into you.
“Oh my God,” he says inbetween each breath. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more gentle—that wasn’t how I wanted it to happen, I—”
You break out into a smile, breathing hard alongside him, hair clinging to your forehead and the nape of your neck from sweat. “It’s ok, Eren. It was a lot of fun.”
He sighs with relief, lowering his face into your neck to nuzzle against your throat. “Ok, good—shit, I’m still sorry, you’re going to be so sore tomorrow.”
“Yeah, probably.”
He snorts, sitting up just enough to put some space between your bodies, and he moves his palm to your lower stomach, gently rubbing in little circles. “Poor girl, all stuffed full of cum.”
You wrinkle your nose at him and make a weak attempt at shoving him off of you. “Gross, Eren.”
Eren cackles and allows you to roll him off, landing on his back with a quiet oof! as he stares up at the ceiling and tries to process everything that just happened. Beside him, you’re quiet too, gradually slowing your breathing as your body relaxes into the mattress. 
He rolls his tongue against his cheek, trying to find the words to say, but you beat him to it. “So… were you being serious? About all those things you said earlier about… liking me and wanting us to date and stuff.”
Eren nods in response, not trusting himself to speak just yet.
“So… this isn’t just some—” you gesture vaguely between the two of you “—one night stand thing where we pretend like nothing happened in the morning? This is like… for real?”
He swallows thickly, tilting his head to the side to look at you and he sees that you’re already looking at him. Eyes wide with a mixture of hope and fear as sweat dries on your skin and the heat on your skin fades away in the cool evening air. 
“Yeah,” he says, “this is for real.”
“How long have you felt like this?”
“I don’t know. Since the beginning, I think,” he admits. “There was never a moment for me where our relationship felt different, it just… it always felt like this, but I didn’t know—or maybe I was in denial—of how much you really meant to me.”
You hum, “Yeah… I know what you mean. It’s the same for me.” You clasp your hands on your stomach and look up at the ceiling in thought. Eren can see the way your brows furrow gently and your lips purse as you concentrate on whatever’s going through your head.
“That’s why my ex didn’t like you,” he continues, “she said that I cared more about you than I did her, so she made me stop hanging out with you.”
“Ah! So that was the reason. I thought you just thought I was too lame to hang out with anymore.”
“I would never think that.” You shift to look over at Eren beside you and he shoots you an apologetic look as he sits up onto his forearm. He leans over you, brushing away the sweaty strands of hair on your forehead as he looks down at you. “I’ll make up for the years we missed, I promise,” and he seals his promise with a soft kiss against your lips.
You reach your hands up to cup his face, deeping the kiss and putting all those tips Eren gave you to good use—it makes his heart clench with pride at the fact that he taught you to kiss exactly the way he likes. 
When you pull away, your eyes flutter open, gaze bouncing between each of Eren’s eyes as you build up the courage to speak. “Eren…”
“What is it?” he reaches for your hand on your chest, untangling it from your other hand so he can bring your knuckles up to his lips. “You can tell me anything—you always can.”
You chuckle and seeing your mouth twitch up into a smile has Eren smiling down at you, too. “Eren… I think your cum is leaking out of me.”
“Oh, shit,” he sits up, eyes wide as he looks around his room. “Let me get you a cloth or something.”
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Eren wakes up to the gentle buzzing of his phone on his nightstand—a text message. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing himself to go back to sleep and nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head as he holds you close.
After cleaning you up last night, you decided to stay in bed with Eren. The two of you chatted a bit more about your feelings for one another before falling asleep in each other’s arms, and as happy as Eren is to be awake in a reality where you’re his girl, he really doesn’t want to wake up right now when his head is pounding with a hangover.
His phone buzzes twice more and it almost feels more urgent this time, so with a groan, Eren reaches over your body to grab at it. He squints one eye open as he looks down at his messages to see a text from Zeke.
Zeke: Good morning, Eren. Zeke: I advise that you tread lightly this morning when you see your mother. Zeke: She was not too impressed with the racket you caused last night.
Eren’s eyes widen as he looks down at the message, thumb moving quickly to type up a response.
Eren: Shit. Eren: I thought we were being quiet.
Zeke: Really? Zeke: You really thought you were being quiet last night when you were yelling in explicit detail about when and where you were going to cum?
Eren: How mad is mom?
Zeke: Very. Zeke: You know how much Carla likes that girl, so I don’t think she’s very happy about the way you were speaking to her last night.
Eren groans, covering his face with his hand as he feels his heart sink into his stomach and his whole body break out into a cold sweat. You start to stir in his arms, pulling your face from his chest to look up at him with sleepy eyes.
“Good morning,” he says, feeling his face soften as he looks down at you. Facing his mom doesn’t seem so scary anymore when he knows that he can wake up next to you like this again.
It’s ok, Eren decides. He’ll stay in bed with you all morning until his mom heads out for her regular weekend shopping trip, then he can sneak you out and deal with her on his own. There’s no need to have you present for the verbal lashing he’s bound to get. 
She’s always loved you—she used to tease you as kids about getting married when you got older, so Eren’s certain that she’s over the moon about the two of you finally getting together. But that doesn’t mean she’ll be happy about overhearing Eren taking your virginity, especially if Zeke is to be believed.
“Morning,” you say around a yawn, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?”
“Pretty early,” Eren says, shifting his gaze over your shoulder back at his phone. He watches three grey dots appear on the screen as Zeke types out another message. “It’s ok, we don’t have to get out of bed right away. We can just sit here and—”
Zeke: By the way, breakfast is ready :)
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pennymart · 24 days
Note
ovipositor neuvi and his pretty lil gf *dreamy sigh*
CW: afab! Reader, female genitalia, pregnancy/impregnating (I think that’s I what I can tag) ovipositor/oviposition, breeding, egg transfer? 😭 use of eggs? Idk the word for sex Infront of a mirror is
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I don’t actually know how it works and Google did not help me so yippie
Straight to the point
Sweet, gentle, and emotional husband Neuvillete who just wants a family with poor you, who unfortunately isn’t all to familiar with how dragons work.
In his defense he did try and explain to you that it’s not gonna be the Normal way that humans create a baby. I mean.. sure, you two connect at the end but it’s just… different…
Sweet dragon Neuvillete who made sure to prep you and get you as stretched and comfortable before he got to work. Eating you out and going for several rounds in different positions. So he’s sure you at least some what ready, well, the bigger the dragon the bigger the stretch, at least he thinks.
“Just try and relax, it’ll hurt but I’m sure you can take it,” he muttered as he nuzzled into your neck. Your legs spread wide, both his and your body facing the mirror, one of his pretty cocks buried deep in your pussy, a faint glow pulsed at the veins. He was ready, he just needed to make sure you were before he started. He takes his hands under your legs to create a wider opening as he trusted a few extra times, a few moans leaving your dry throat.
“Just go slow…” your voice trembled, eyes now focused on his cock in the mirror, While he can’t exactly slow the process, he can keep it from overwhelming you, so he nods, one of his hands going to hold yours as support. It took a mere second before a large swell at his base was visible that went upwards and pressing at your entrance, you took a shaky breath watching carefully as it squeezed its way into your opening. “Oh god—“ you shuddered, smaller hand squeezing his larger one, “You’ll feel a stretch,” he said in a comforting way, his other hand that had been holding your leg wide, now moving to play with your clit to relax you into the stretch.
The swell slowly slipped in, moving through your walls and into its place. One egg in, now how many left? Neuvillete’s hand held you head as he kissed at your forehead and hair to comfort you and silently praise you for taking the first egg so well. Unfortunately, to make this process much easier, he’s gonna need to get deeper, as gently as he could he positioned you in a full nelson, body on full display in-front of the mirror, allowing himself to fit deeper into your stretched pussy. Tip smushing against your open cervix (???). The second swell at his base now pushing through, easily passing through his cock and smoothly into your opening, as did the third, forth, and fifth.
Five full eggs that left a bump on your tummy, Neuvillete lowered your legs and rubbed at your hips with his thumbs, soothing the spots that will grow sore within a few hours. “You did so well my love, wonderfully done..” he kissed at your sweaty and flushed face, calming down your racing heart and achy body.
To be parents soon, but what a process… on the bright side, you know what to expect if he ever gets baby fever, good thing he’s not sure what that is.
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This is probably so ooc, I haven’t played genshin for a few days and forgot how my baby girl acts ☹️
Once again I’m not great at writing and my research in this ovipositor stuff was not successful. Pls don’t judge me idk what I am doing
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honeypiehotchner · 16 days
Text
kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot
Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently
Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance
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It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.
“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”
“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”
You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.
“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”
“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”
You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”
“Great, see you in a few.”
“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.
You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.
Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.
With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 
Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 
It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.
Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.
He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.
Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.
Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.
The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.
You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.
He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.
“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 
He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”
You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 
“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.
You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”
He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”
“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”
You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.
“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”
He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 
You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.
When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.
“Well,” you laugh.
“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”
You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”
“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”
“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”
“That could be forever, for all you know.”
“That’s fine with me.”
You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”
“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”
He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 
“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”
“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 
“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”
“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”
“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”
He smirked. “I noticed.”
You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”
He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”
“And then come back here for a movie?”
“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 
The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 
“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”
“…kind of.”
“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”
“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”
Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.
The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.
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rougepancake · 1 year
Text
Pervert!
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Ft. Giyuu, Shinobu, Obanai, Uzui, Gyomei, Sanemi, Rengoku, Mitsuri
Warnings: Panty/bra stealing, mentions of masturbation, just sexual themes overall. Afab reader. Minors and ageless blogs dni!
Summary: Just some headcanons! Not proofread!
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GIYU TOMIOKA:
He’s so sly about it. Like the two of you will be hanging out and as soon as you turn around, he’s checking you out.
Though, he does feel a little guilty since you’re one of his closest friends (and his neighbor-), but at the end of the day, it won’t matter because he’ll be moaning your name until he passes out.
He’s the type to feel guilt in the moment and then think back on it later and be like “worth it.”
Giyu tells himself that it’s only natural to feel these types of things. (It is, right??) It kind of makes him feel less bad about it.
He walked in on you changing once and was never the same afterwards, I’m talking about the hardest hard on to ever befall a man ✋☠️
He’s not totally perverse though, because he respects your personal space and doesn’t try to hug or feel you up, but every time he gets off to you it makes him feel worse.
This man is borderline about to just get down on his knees and beg for you to be his because he’s so desperate for you.
However, he does enjoy catching sneak peeks of you when you’re in the shower or while you’re changing.
I mean you’re just right there so how can he not stare?
SHINOBU KOCHO
She sleeps over. All the time. Doesn’t even try to hide that she might be a women enjoyer.
She’ll do little things like “Y/N have you ever kissed a girl to see how it would feel? Why don’t we test it out to see if we’re lesbians hehe~”
You two also go skinny dipping together in the nearby lake frequently, and often times she’ll come up behind you and grope you jokingly (Because girl things amiright?)
This chick openly steals your bras and underwear. AND WEARS THEM. IN FRONT OF YOU.
SHE’S PUTTING SHIT DOWN AND YOU’RE NOT PICKING IT UP. LIKE THIS ISN’T PERVERSION, SHE IS HARD ON FLIRTING
She takes you out to places that are referred to as make out spots and likes to give you little sexual innuendos here and there, but you’re so oblivious it drives her up a wall
She literally offered to “demonstrate” how to properly give someone head AND THEN PROCEEDED TO EAT YOU OUT LIKE HER LIFE DEPENDED ON IT
Recently, however, you’ve noticed that some of your vibrators (the ones that weren’t gifts from Shinobu) have gone missing
Not to worry, they’re in good care as long as they’re with Shinobu, and honestly, so is she.
She is shameless.
IGURO OBANAI
He’s so bbg istg, but he’s a DEVIL when it comes to you
He lives for hugging you and brushing his fingers against your ass, or dropping things on purpose and watching you bend over to pick them up
Speaking of bending over- this man has an entire photo album dedicated to pics of your juicy ass
He is definitely the type to get turned on at the thought of you finding that album; He just loves the riskiness of it all
He takes you out for drinks and gets you a little tipsy so he has a reason to ‘watch over you’ because it’s simply not safe for a girl like you to be alone and wasted
Obanai also has pictures of you sleeping, ones where you can see how tight your shorts are and ones where you can see your perky nipples through the shirt you’re wearing
He really can’t wait until you find those ones.
Once after a night out together, he went through your room while you were asleep on your couch and stole one of your vibrators
That night, he used it until the battery died, shaking from pure overstimulation and excitement. However, he never got tired of moaning out your name desperately
He does feel some form of guilt though, after all, what he’s doing isn’t exactly morally acceptable. And he would have made his move a while back if he wasn’t so scared about ruining your friendship
So for now it’s just useless masturbation, pretending it’s your pretty little lips wrapped around his aching cock
TENGEN UZUI
Has more self control than Shinobu, but barely.
He openly slaps your ass in public, placing his hand in your back pocket as you walk together and glaring down anyone who gives you funky looks.
He’s also a lightweight, so whenever the two of you go out for drinks, it always ends in him flirting (poorly) with you and asking you to join in on a foursome with Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma
He gets all whiny when you say no and offer for him to spend the night at your place so he doesn’t have to walk home alone, but then again, he’s gonna be at your house for a night 👀
The next thing you know, your favorite pair of panties are missing, along with your most worn bra and even your favorite perfume.
You ask him about it the next time you see him but he denies all accusations. Low and behold, the next time he spends the night, your bra and perfume return, but sadly, you’ll never see those panties ever again.
Whenever he’s wasted and at your place, he begs for you to bathe him to help him sober up, but the last time you did that, he got a hard on when you ran your hands down his broad shoulders.
Your friendship dynamic is the dumb idiot (Uzui) and the tired mom (You), so it’s often that you wind up taking care of him in situations like this.
However, unlike Obanai, he hardly has any photos of you, instead, he prefers to take sneak peeks while you’re showering
He gets even more painfully hard when he catches a glimpse of how the water runs down your gorgeous body, your head turned away and your ass facing him is the best sight he could ever behold.
But he’s not the type to masturbate alone, moaning your name like a slut, he takes it to Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, who are far from worried when he ‘accidentally’ moans out your name while they’re pleasuring him.
He’s sworn them to secrecy though, so they’ll never be able tell you how terribly he shakes when he calls out your name.
GYOMEI HIMEJIMA
Out of all of them, he’s definitely the one to feel the worst about it. Like, it goes against his views to be thinking of someone like this and it causes him to feel MASSIVE amounts of guilt.
Since he’s blind, he has to imagine what you look like, which isn’t hard because he had you describe yourself to him when you first met.
He sees you as the most perfect woman to ever grace the planet, he’s 100% smitten. He is legitimately in love with you 🙏🙏
The two of you share an apartment, and due to Gyomei’s strong desire for you, he’s considered moving out.
He hates it, he genuinely thinks it’s wrong to think of you in such a way. But Uzui and Rengoku told him that it’s totally normal for a man to think like that and not to worry about it.
There was one night when he had come back from work later than usual and had assumed you were asleep, only to hear you pleasuring yourself in your bedroom.
He may be blind but he sure as hell ain’t deaf. He’ll never be able rid his mind of how beautiful your voice sounded, of how lewd the noises you made were.
He’ll never stop picturing it either. There’ll be times when he’s at work and he thinks of you like that, immediately having to excuse himself and head for the restroom as soon as possible.
You just get him so unbelievably hard. It drives him mad how he can’t have you, and it creates a deep pit of shame in his stomach when he masturbates to your perfect being.
He can hardly hang out with you like he used to because he starts to think about how it would feel if he had you ride him on the couch, or if he bent you over the kitchen counter and made you scream.
While he dreams of fucking you endlessly, he’d die a happy man if you’d just kiss him.
SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
You’ve been tutoring his brother recently, and he just can’t get you out of his head.
Like he loves the idea that you’re so willing to help Genya, so maybe you’d be able to help him?
Or better yet, he could help you.
He’s so mean whenever you come over, openly bullying you whenever you’re trying to teach Genya. He hopes that he’ll get to see tears run down your beautiful face one day, but instead, you only return his comments with a smirk
The first time you did this, it caught him off guard entirely. Like you put his ass in his place with ease and it left him hornier than ever.
He dreams of you on your knees, tears in your eyes and he fucks your throat harshly.
Poor Genya can’t catch a break either- He literally caught Sanemi jerking off to a pic of your ass, literally traumatizing the kid.
You take no bs, so you’re used to going over to their place, immediately shutting Sanemi up and watching him scurry of to do lord knows what.
He has videos of you insulting him and often uses them to get off, but he’d never tell you that even if he managed to pull you.
As far as he’s concerned, he’s going to dominate you, not the other way around. (He just wants you to sit on his face.)
KYOJURO RENGOKU
He’s such a gentleman when it comes to you. But like- whenever you grab his arm and drag him around, or bend down in front of him to look at something, he starts thinking some unholy things-
He does have a couple upskirt pics, but only out of curiosity. He wanted to know what it would feel like to do something risky like that (and Uzui kind of talked him into it-)
He loves hanging out with you, but you’re so innocent. He’d make sexual innuendos if he wasn’t afraid of you asking what he meant. The thought of someone ruining your innocence literally makes him break out in a cold sweat.
(Oh but he gets off to the thought of him ruining your innocence all right.)
He often wonders what it would be like to make you moan in pleasure, how easy would it be to get you to cry out in pleasure?
You’re just so sweet though, and it only makes him feel like a horrible friend when you meet up after he’s been masturbating to your cute little face.
Honestly, he couldn’t care less about how you would make him feel, he practically strives to make you happy. He’d eat you out endlessly if you turned around and asked him to.
I mean it. He’d do it no questions asked, right then and there. As long as you’re satisfied, then nothing else matters.
But it does suck when he’s stuck humping a pillow, pretending it’s you. He’d much rather it be the real deal.
MISTURI KANROJI
MY GOD SHE’S LITERALLY JUST LIKE SHINOBU
She uses the fact that you’ve been best friends for a long time as a way to “test things out”
She also occasionally says things like “Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to kiss a girl?” And “jokingly” flirts with you during sleepovers.
There was one time you two were dancing around and you told her you liked her jiggle physics, resulting in her flashing you
She once found where you kept your toys and judged you for how cheap they were. She mocked you for “not knowing how to pleasure yourself” and offered for you to use hers whenever you liked
You did take her up on that offer once, and she used it right after (cleaned of course)
She jokingly gropes you along with you groping her and just messing around with your sexualities in general. (Just normal gal pal things-)
Though, you’ve always taken her flirting as a joke, since you’ve always been flirtatious with your friends.
She loves cuddling with you on your couch when you watch movies, making fun of the characters and eating popcorn together.
She definitely takes a lot of advice from Shinobu, which is where she gets most of her confidence from. If it were anyone else, she would be a blushing mess.
She’s just a fan of physical contact in general. Like hugs and little cheek kisses in general-
My god she loves physical contact so much that like the slightest touch has her shivering a little. Full blown goosebumps.
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xxblairexxss · 9 months
Text
Duty (part 2)
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x pregnant!reader
Theme : Angst / fluff
Word count : 3.7k (The last time I checked before proofread!)
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Thank you so much for the amount of loves on the first part! I wasn’t expecting that at all. Oh, and since I got a lot of expectations for the second part, it might comes out as a disappointment if you were expecting a lot. I had to end it in two parts. 😔
Warnings, mentions of throwing up, slight description of childbirth and inaccurate infos on childbirth (I tried)
Requested!
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flash
“I hate this!”
“Woah, princess.” He moved his head away, hands high up as you threw your snickers as it hit the dashboard and made a thud sound. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to wear them but tying the shoelaces is so hard. I can’t even reach my legs.”
Charles didn’t say anything when he left the car and walked to the shotgun side. You looked at him in question as he opened the door and kneeled down, his arm extended as he was expecting something from you while you kept on looking at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping my wife to tie her shoelaces? Give me that.”
You turned towards him and was going to bend to get the sneakers when he grabbed it instead after seeing how difficult it was for you. “You know you can always ask me to do these things for you, right?” He placed your feet on his knee and brushed off the dirt on your sole before he put the socks on.
“I know, but my feet are swollen and ugly. I don’t want you to see them. Charles, that tickles!” You shrieked with giggles when he tickled on your other foot.
“That’s what you get if you say anything silly.” He giggled along seeing how you still couldn’t stop laughing.
“I nearly kick you in the the face! Don’t do that again!” You leaned closer to hold his face and pecked on his lips. “But my feet are so ugly, honey. Look.” Charles tickled on your foot again and you tried to retract your feet away which caused it to bump against his face.
“Ow! Did you just kick me?” He fell on his bottom and covered his face with his hand.
“I told you to never do that again!”
“I told you to never say anything silly, didn’t I? He pulled his hand away and you bursted out laughing. “What?” You didn’t reply and chortled again when you looked at him. “Y/N, what?” He asked, confused yet still finding himself slowly laughing along with you.
“Your cheek is red. I’m sorry.” You moved your upper body closer to stroke on his now, blushed cheek.
“Oh, that’s okay. I’m just gonna go around and tell everyone that my pregnant wife kicked me in the face.” He went back to put the sneaker on your other foot. “It kinda hurts though. Since when did you get so strong.”
“You asked for it! Are you saying I’m fat?”
“There you go twisting my words again. I never say that.” He gave one last twist and pull on your shoelaces. “All done. Easier to ask for help from your husband than to throw the sneakers around, right?” He stood straight then helped you to get off the car.
“I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t going to throw it towards the dashboard.”
He then tilted your chin up and planted a kiss on your forehead. “No one’s talking about the dashboard, honey. I’m saying that you should let me know if you needed my help. It’s my duty, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, and I’m sorry about the kick.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m used to it. Let’s go and get the things you are craving for.” He grabbed your hand and started walking away from the car.
“What do you mean you are used to it? The help or the kick? I have never kicked you before!”
“You did!”
“Did I?”
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“What is going on?” Joris strode to the engineer that he had asked to pass the message forcefully pulled him by his shoulder. “Did you actually tell them?”
“I did! I told them exactly what you told me.”
“Then why isn’t he coming back to the garage?”
“Maybe he just wanted to finish the race first. He’s leading it.”
“No,” Joris shook his head the second he heard what the engineer said. Ever since Charles got married to you, his career had fallen into second place in his priority list. He saw how his friend went from never missed a tennis day to only join the casual tennis match twice a month as he had to accompany you to your hair or facial appointment so he could be the first one to compliment you on your new hair or nails. He saw how Charles used to stay and got drunk at any parties to the point he couldn’t stand up to having to call it an early night because he didn’t want you to go to sleep alone. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. That man is willing to retire for his wife. They are not telling him!” Joris cried in frustration and was about to take control of the matter himself by walking to the pit lane but he was stopped by the engineer again.
“You can’t go there.”
“I need to tell him!” He tried to walk away but was held by even more people this time.
“We can’t risk any penalty point.“
“How can you be so heartless. His pregnant wife is in the emergency room!” He stared at the men in front of him in disbelief.
“I told you I’ve told them to pass the message and he’s still not coming back into the pit lane. He just wants to finish the race. Which part of it don’t you understand?” Joris saw the look the engineers were looking at him as if he was mad for being this way.
“You don’t get it. They are not telling him because if they did, he would have been here by now. Please, just let me pass the message.”
“We did what we can, you need to wait here until the end of the race or leave the garage.”
There’s still 51 laps to go.
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“Her water has broken and we suspect it might have been more than 24 hours since then.”
“That’s impossible. She would have known if her water was broken.” Your mom shook her head in denial as the OBGYN informed her about your condition.
“She might not have realised about it. We had to induce her labor as she was showing symptoms of infection and we can’t risk it. Can you ask for her husband come as we might need to proceed with the delivery soon.” The OBGYN dismissed herself and left the two mothers alone.
Fishing her phone out, Pascale clicked on a contact number that was right at the very top of her recents.
“Hel– “
“Bring my son here right now.”
“I’m trying! I can’t do anything else or they’ll kick me out of the garage.”
Pascale was so close to scream. She should have known something was wrong that stopped her son from coming to the hospital when she knew Charles barely left you alone during your whole pregnancy, there was no way he would leave you alone when you were in labor. “How much longer will the race be?”
“It should end in an hour. I’ll get him as soon as he get off the car.”
“Please bring him here as soon as you can.”
Joris felt like all of his blood was drawn out of his body when he heard the tone of Pascale’s voice and knew you weren’t doing well. Not only he had to tell Charles about you being taken to the emergency room, he had to tell him about your condition too and he didn’t think there would be any husbands in this world who could take the news well.
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It was around 20 laps after when he finally entered the pit lane but it wasn’t him alone. The rest of the grid were asked to do so as there was a red flag that had been put out. Joris was walking past the engineers so he could maybe, got Charles’s attention when they held him again before he could take any steps.
“You can’t go there.”
“The red flag is 25 minutes long. I can’t wait any longer.” He pushed away the engineer but felt another grip on his arms from the back, forcing him back. “Are you guys seriously doing this?”
“He is in the car right now as our driver and we are treating him as one. Please leave the garage.”
“He won’t be your driver anymore if he knew what you did to him. Don’t touch me. I can walk myself out.” He heaved a sigh and stormed out of the garage.
“What’s happening in the garage?” Charles spoke, he was lining up on the pit lane behind every other cars, waiting for the red flag to end but his car happened to be near his own garage where he saw the whole commotion and a group of people formed up together.
“Nothing, Charles. It’s none of your concern.”
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“And there goes the checkered flag! Thrice in a row! Charles Leclerc is the winner for the Monaco Grand Prix!”
“That’s P1. Well done, mate. Thank you for giving the race victory for us today.”
“Well done, Charles. You did a good job.”
“Well done, guys! It was tough race but great job for the race and for the weekend. Let’s hope we can keep the consistency.”
He was screaming into the radio team to the point he could barely hear what his engineers were saying. He had been dreaming to get the podium in his country even since he joined Formula 1. It felt like he had finally accomplished the last final tick in his wish list. Soon as he crossed the finish line, he saw a glimpse of your smiling face, jumping around as you congratulated him and he was so eager to see you, and to stood on the podium, making his country proud.
“Charles, we have an interview and a press conference in 5 minutes– “ His assistant’s steps went faster when he realised that the driver was heading to the other way after the whole podium moment.
“Can I see my wife first?”
“No, I don’t think so. It’s better for you to get these done first.”
Charles still continued his way to meet you while bumping into a few people in the paddock lane who congratulated him with the assistant still chasing after.
“Charles, we really need to– “
“Let me see my wife first. Just one minute. I’ll make it quick.” He gave his assistant a smile before leaving to get to you.
“Charles,”
Still ignoring the assistant, he went inside the hospitality with the assistant trailing behind him to keep his schedule in check. “Where is she?” He looked back at the assistant when you were not in the lounge area. “Where’s Y/N?”
“Your interview–“
“Answer the damn question! Where’s my wife?” He wasn’t looking for you in the paddock at all as he knew you would be in the hospitality so he was expecting to see you in the lounge area where he left you but you weren’t there. Not even Joris.
“She was taken to the hospital earlier.” The assistant’s voice trailed off when Charles’s gaze on him went darker.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I don’t know. I heard the guys said they already informe– “
“How long has it been since she was taken to the hospital?” He had rolled down the zipper on his race suit, and get his arms out from the sleeves, leaving him in his fireproof suit though it still made him hard to breath. He didn’t even know how to act or what to say. It was too much to take at one time.
“More than an hour ago.”
“What? You should– “ He breathed in. “You should have told me about that. How could you do this to me.” He was going to head out but he was pushed back on the shoulder.
“You still have things to do. We are still not done for the day.”
“I have to get to my wife. If something happened to her, it’s on you.” He glared back and pushed the grip of the hand on his shoulder rather too rough and headed out, bumping into Joris who was sweating and out of breath.
“Charles! Oh, thank God. I was looking for you after the podium like crazy. Hospital. Now. Y/N is not doing well.”
He knew something was wrong with you. If only he had listened to his gut feeling. The fact that he was kept in the dark for more than an hour when God knows what could and might have happened to you during the period of his absence.
Charles had left with Joris as his hands were too shaky he could barely held the steering wheel so Joris had to be the driver. He tried to call his parent but none of the calls were picked up. “What happened to her?”
“She fainted. They refused to tell you what happened and I got kicked out of the garage for causing a ruckus, they said.”
“That was what actually happened in the garage..how did I miss that.” Charles’s voice trailed off as he buried his face in his hands. He didn’t say anything else after. The rest of the whole ride to the hospital, he was quite. He just needed to see you right now before he lost himself to every negative thoughts that had been filling his head.
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flash
“Honey, are you okay?”
You had woken up to the sound of your husband throwing up and groaning in pain and you knew where to find him when he wasn’t in bed. He had been feeling sick these past few weeks and it happened every morning or when both of you were cuddled up together. You had forced him to see a doctor so you thought he would feel better by now. When you peeked inside the bathroom, you saw him leaning against the wall and face scrunched up in pain.
“Oh my god, are you still sick? Didn’t you go to the doctor yesterday?”
“Yeah, I did and they said it might have something to do with your pregnancy because they checked everything and I’m supposed to be fine. Apparently none of the medications are gonna work until we have our baby.” He washed his face and you walked to his side to rub on his back.
“Are you having morning sickness?” You giggled while he was still leaning against the counter, completely didn’t find the situation funny.
“Not too close, baby. I don’t think I can stand the smell of your perfume.” He moved away and out of the bathroom and you giggled again as you chased after him.
“But it’s the perfume you bought for me! I just want to hug my husband.” You whined.
“I love you so much, Y/N, like so, so much but please step back. I feel it coming again.” He moved away and groaned. “Stop it, honey. I’m serious.“ He made a gagging noise and turned away.
You chuckled and decided to stop teasing him by standing on the other side of the bed. “Why is it so bad though?”
“I really don’t need those questions now, Y/N.” He heaved a sigh of defeat and your eyes trailed on him as he scurried back to the toilet.
The morning sickness went on for a couple of months to the point he had to take some painkillers during race weekends while you didn’t feel anything at all. Thankfully it stopped after your second trimester.
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Soon as Charles barged inside the room, he saw you were laying on your back with a few medical staffs inside the room prepping things up. Your face contorted in pain and you were sobbing. “Y/N,” He called out as he made his way to you. His heart pounded when he saw you had an oxygen mask on, the back of your palm was hooked to IV. You were squirming on the bed, unable to sit still on the bed.
“Charles!” You pulled the oxygen mask away and stretched out your arms, waiting to feel the warmth of his body against yours. You felt your tears gushing down even more when he engulfed you in the tightest, most comforting hug as you cling on him. “I’m scared…I can’t do this.”
He left a few lingering kisses on your crown while your arms still wrapped around his neck, refused to let go as you felt him pulling away. “No– no, please don’t leave me. Please, I can’t–“
“I’m not, baby. I’m not. See? I’m right here. I promise I’m not gonna go anywhere else.” He pulled your arms away and held it tightly in his as he stared at you reassuringly. He knew you weren’t listening to the midwife when they repetitively asked you to breathe so he had to break the hug even when you refused to. “Baby, I need you to breathe, okay. I’m right here. Just follow along my breathing. That’s it, that’s it, baby.” He saw you slowly went back to control your emotions and brushed his lips on your damp forehead. “You are so, so strong.”
The whole pushing process was a nightmare. You had been pushing for hours and though you knew your body was moving on the motherly instinct alone, the endless pushing made you started feeling nauseous and light headed. “I can’t do this. Charles, it hurts so bad.” You bawled and whimpered in pain as you pulled Charles closer to bury your face on his neck.
“You are doing so great, love. Just a few more pushes, alright? I can see her head already.”
“It hurts! I can’t do this. Ow! It hurts so bad!” You collapsed back and grunted with the end of the contraction as the head felt like it was tearing you apart.
Charles rubbed on your inner thigh and kissed your shaking knee. “I know, baby. I know. You are almost there. I promise.” He wiped your tears with his thumb and left his lips lingering on your forehead. “You are so, so close. Just a little bit more.”
You pushed again once your midwife had checked for the cord. It was Charles’s first time to see you in this so much pain. Your face was red and your legs were shaking with all the pushing.
“That’s it, that’s it! One more push and she’ll be here. You are doing amazing, baby.”
“I can’t do it…please… I can’t. Charles, I can’t.” You shook your head with tears streaming down your face and you wanted to close your legs shut when the midwife quickly tried to hold it as Charles immediately squeezed on your thigh.
“You can. Y/N, listen. Hey–“ He cupped on your cheek so you would look at him. He had to be strong so that you knew you could rely on him but seeing your broken facade was something that he wasn’t prepared for. “Baby, listen to me. You can. She’s nearly here. One more push, honey, I promise.”
You gave one massive push and gasped loudly when you heard your little girl wailed. “You did it, Y/N. She’s here.” Charles exclaimed as the midwife lifted your newborn and placed it on your chest. You were still out of breathe when you gently wrapped your arms around the newborn with Charles’s hand under her for a support.
“She’s finally here, Charles. Oh my god, our baby girl is here.” You leaned in and kissed your daughter’s forehead.
“You were amazing, honey. She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? I love you so much, Y/N.” Charles planted a kiss on your crown and stroked on your hair, feeling himself blessed with the little moments.
After the whole labor process ended, he was offered to cut the cord and gave his little one the first bath while you were given some time to rest where you could fall asleep almost instantly, still feeling drained and sore but you did get a glance of your husband’s back giving his newborn a bath, seeing his arms slightly shaking with the help of the nurses. He had hold a newborn baby from one of his close friend’s before but definitely wasn’t prepared to hold his own daughter and it was very obvious to everyone in the room, including you. It was a heartwarming moment for you though.
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You woke up feeling something warm on your cheek and opened your eyes to see your husband’s head on the little space on your bed, his forehead against his arm while his other hand on your cheek. He looked like he had fallen asleep and you found yourself beaming at the sight. When you placed your hand on top of his, you felt him stirred a little as you stroke on his knuckles. He was no longer in his Ferrari’s shirt, his hair looking a little unkempt when he lifted his head, face got a little sullen when the bright light hit on his face.
“Morning.” You poked on his cheek.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep, baby. Do you need anything?” He rubbed on his eyes and sat up straight to stretch out his arms.
“Can you get me some water?”
“Of course, love.” He then stood up to pour you a glass of water, slowly pulled on your stretched arms so you could sit up a little as he inclined the bed.
Charles was looking, more like staring at you the whole time, as if he had something to ask or to say so you scooted aside and held out your arm, leadinh him to sit by your side when he took your hand in yours. “What is it?”
You the saw the way he got confused with your question so you had to ask again, this time more elaborated. “You look like you have something to ask me?”
He was quite for a few moment before finally he gave you a reply you was waiting for. “Why didn’t you tell me you had been feeling pain, Y/N?”
“I didn’t want you to do anything silly before the– oh, did you win the race?”
“I did, honey. I think I did? There were so much things happened after my podium I think part of the memories were deleted.” He chuckled and carefully wrapped his arms around waist to pull you close so you could lean against him.
“Well, congratulations, baby! I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
He only hummed in response, his cheek tilted to rest it on your head. “They didn’t tell me.” His voice is full of disappointment.
“Didn’t tell you what, love?”
“I asked them to let me know if anything happened to you but they didn’t.” He left a lingering kisses on your hair. “I could have been here with you more early.”
“Don’t beat yourself too hard, Charles. It’s fine. You excelled both your duty as a husband and as a F1 driver today. You were a great help. I would have given up if you weren’t there.” You leaned in to peck on his cheek and heard your newborn started wheezing. “Oh, is she awake?”
“Can’t have my moment with you even for a short time now, can I?” He left your side to slowly pick his little girl from the bassinet and claimed his seat back by your side.
“Aw, she looks like her daddy! She’s so adorable.” You slightly pulled the the garments that swaddled her and leaned against his arm. “She’s my little gift to you since you won the first podium in Monaco today, honey.”
“Will I get the same gift every year?” He squirmed a little when you pinched on his arm, making him winced in pain. “Ow, that hurts! I’m gonna start having bruises on my arm if you don’t stop doing that, honey– oh, bless you!” His attention shifted to the little one when she sneezed, melting his heart with the cuteness. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for making me a father.”
“I love you.”
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj
✧.* tag list for p.2! @lunamelona @allywthsr @1655-1485 @boiohboii @viiduxjcivovoccy @boherahpsody @blueflorals @leclerc16s @lilians17 @roseseraj @sltwins @freetimemachinequeen
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
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