#i changed it so many times because i wanted to make sure it was a standard i was happy with especially as it was the last one in this series

[colormepurplex2]

Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

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

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Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s, uh…”

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

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

“You’re healthy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Who?”

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

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

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

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

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

“Why? What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he breathes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand.”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, guys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

“You missed it.”

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

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

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

“She? It could be a boy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, is everything okay?”

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

“I’m on my way!”

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

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

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

“O-okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yeah.”

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

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

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

“Yeah.”

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

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

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

“Oh, she’s not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kinda weird, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be great, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is everything okay?”

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

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

“Where have you been?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is not what happened at all!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Wrong Cunningham

Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.

His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.

Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.

But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.

~~~~

Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.

"You have a beautiful voice."

Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.

"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.

"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked

"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said

"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.

"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.

"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.

If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?

"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.

Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.

"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped

Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.

"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.

~

Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.

Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.

~~~

Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.

"Hey, Y/N"

"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.

"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.

"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."

Y/N felt her excitement building again.

"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.

"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.

"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.

~

Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.

"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.

"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.

~

Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.

Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.

When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.

"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?

"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."

"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.

"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.

"What did I do?"

"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.

"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.

~

Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.

"Eddie?"

"Can we talk?"

Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.

"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked

"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.

"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.

"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.

"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.

"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.

"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."

"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.

"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."

Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.

"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.

"Right now?" Eddie choked out

She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.

"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.

"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed

"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself

"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.

Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites

[hearts4chriss]

𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉!𝑫𝒐𝒎 𝑩𝑭!𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 + 𝑺𝒖𝒃!𝑷𝒐𝒄 𝑮𝑭

𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡!𝐃𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐅!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐒𝐮𝐛!𝐏𝐨𝐜 𝐆𝐅

There’s no doubt this man is ROUGHHH when having sex.

He’s overprotective of you especially when you guys are out and you’re wearing something short and tight.

he hates when you tease, which normally results in him fucking ur brains out.

His favourite thing to do to you when you’ve either, pissed him off, teased him or didn’t do what he asked is edge you.

He gets off watching you beg to cum as he pounding into you with no mercy.

“N-no Chris! Please l-let me cum!”. You’d cry out, already shaking from the previous times he’s edged you.

“Shouldn’t have been acting like a little slut today and you would’ve cum 4 times already”. He groans deep in ur ear continuing to ruin you.

Definitely fucks you in the bathroom at the party and leaves you with cum dripping down your leg.

Leaves you shaking every time, he won’t stop until he feels you either learned ur lesson or he made you feel good.

Loves the sound ur ass makes when he’s fucking you from behind, he’s always touching it, Grabbing it, slapping it all of the above that man loves your ass

Will leave you marked up in hickeys all over ur thighs, tits, inner thighs, as a reminder of whose girl you are incase you forget.

Definitely chokes you while your in missionary / fucking you from behind.

Pulls ur hair but neverrrr where he hurts you

Made sure to establish a safe word

Degrading is his favourite thing, he loves it.

“Fuck- such a little slut, keep making those noises for me yeah?”.

“God ur pathetic, about to cum already?”.

Don’t even get started on dumification.

“Such a dumb whore, fucked out on my cock”.

“Aww look at you, all fucked out from how good I’m making you feel”.

“Wow, I thought you couldn’t get any louder, god you whore”. He’d say this while also trying not to moan because as much he’d never admit it, he loved how you wrapped around him perfectly.

he’d always be quick to remind you who you belong to Like THATS HIS GIRL ( he’s also hella jealous so he’d take you laughing at one of matts jokes, than he’d walk in and thinks your flirting. )

“Your mine right? Or should I call Matt? Seemed to be all over him”.

“can. He. Fuck. Better. Than. Me?”. He’d say all this while thrusting harder in between each word.

“Yeah keep moaning my name baby, let all the neighbours know whose girl you are”.

BIG BREEDING KINK LOVES CUMMING INSIDE YOU

“fuck ma- gonna stuff you with my cum- you’d like that wouldn’t you?”.

“gonna fill your pretty pussy up- shit-“.

The sight of your juices mixed with his could get him off any day

Has a hidden photo album of pictures of you post sex and videos of you screaming his name. Don’t even get me started on the my eyes only.

Loves cockwarming, typically after aftercare he always wants to be close to you.

Despite how rough he is during sex, that man ALWAYS takes care of you after.

Right after you both finish after hell, how many rounds? He’s quick to check on you and sometimes worried he went too far.

“hey baby, you okay? Was it too much?”.

“shh i got you, gonna take care of you now ok?”.

“You did so good for me pretty girl”.

He immediately run you a warm bath with your favourite bath bombs.

He’d clean you up first because he can wait, he’d rather have you feel better than him.

You’re super sensitive after sex so he always takes his time, staring on ur inner thighs first.

“Let me know when it’s too much ok?”.

Despite you secretly loving the rough sex, and you both established that, he would always reassure you.

“Your so pretty yk that?”. He would whisper while helping you in the bath.

“my girl, how’d i get so lucky”.

“Oh and ur definitely not a whore or s-“.

“Chris, baby, I’m okay don’t worry about it”. You’d giggle tiredly playing with the soap.

“I know but ur covered in hickeys like everywhere”. He’d scratch his head.

“Chris please ur back has seen better days”.

He’d go change the sheets to fresh clean ones fresh in the dryer.

Typically you’d want to sleep after so he played those calm noises you like and a glass of water.

right after you dried off with the help of him as you could still barley process what happened, you’d sleep in a shirt of his and a pair of panties.

You’d fall asleep once immediately in the warmth of his arms.

“There you go, sleep well baby”.

tag list ☆

@mattsleftnipple03 @sturniolopowers s @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris-deactivated2024040 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vicsguitarr @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #hearts4chriss

[homestylehughes]

boyfriend quinn headcanons

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: headcanons of bf!quinn!

wc:703

warnings: fluff, cute soft quinn, smut 18+!

authors note: hi guys!! i randomly had this idea this morning so i thought id write about quinn and how i think he'd be as a boyfriend! hes been taking up too much of my mind recently LOL. i hope you guys enjoy!! more fics are coming up later this week! like and reblog if you like <3. as always much love <3

happy reading <3

Sfw/fluff: 

Bf!quinn: quinn would be the type of boyfriend to wake you up with kisses all over your body, tracing his hands all over your back. Quinn would love looking at you while you're sleeping, not in a creepy way, in a loving way, that he couldn't believe that you're his.

Bf!quinn: he would give you one on one skating lesions, holding your hand whenever you feel like you're going to fall. He'd insist that he put on your skates, tying them extra tight and patting your leg to make sure you're okay. Quinn would laugh at you when you get excited about skating on your own finally, giving you a forehead kiss, saying he's proud of you. 

Bf!quinn: After a long day at work, when he knows you've had a bad day, he'll cook you your favorite meal. Even drawing you a bath, that you then insisted that he had to get in with you. He would ask you about your day, you would tell him as you lean comfortably into his touch as he runs his hands all over your body to help you relax. 

Bf!quinn: quinn lovesssss when you wear his jersey to a game, he loves seeing you in the stands in his jersey, cheering for him and the rest of the team. He loves the support that you always give him. Waiting for him by the locker room, giving him the sweetest hug and kiss. Always letting him know that you're proud of him, win or lose. 

Bf!quinn: quinn loves how you are around his family, how you think of them as your family. How you laugh and joke with his brothers, talk hockey with his dad, how you embarrass him and smile with his mom. He loves the relationship that you have with them. His family jokes that if you guys ever broke up, his family would be more hurt than you or quinn. 

Bf!quinn: quinn would definitely get baby fever when seeing you around children. Imagining if they were your kids, wanting nothing more than to pull you home, and make his dreams come true. 

Bf!quinn: quinn loves to be babied, he loves when you let him be the little spoon. His favorite way of being babied is when he comes home after a long road trip is throwing himself into your arms, dragging you to the bedroom, quickly getting changed and laying down on top of you. His face finding its way to your neck, nuzzling himself in your body breathing in your scent. He'd quickly fall asleep as you play with his hair, and rub your hands up and down his back.

nsfw 18+ below: 

Bf!quinn: quinn is definitely a munch. He could spend hours in between your legs, even when you try to push him away he always comes back. He could never get enough of your cunt.  

Bf!quinn: He loves marking you up, showing everyone that you're his. He can't help but feel a sense of pride when he looks over the marks. Smirking to himself, knowing you'll yell at him when you see how dark they are the following day. 

Bf!quinn: quinn is obsessed with your boobs, he considers himself a lover of both ass and boobs equally but his downfall is your boobs. Any chance he has to kiss, bite, lick them he takes advantage of it. You can't even count on your fingers how many times you guys have been late to dinners because your boobs are “calling his name.”

Bf!quinn: quinn loves when you take control during sex, it's a side of you that he doesn't get to see a lot but he loves it when he does. The view of you on top of him riding him, never fails to take his breath away. 

Bf!quinn: Your moans? Oh gosh your moans. They make his knees weak, He loves hearing how responsive you are. His favorite is when you moan lowly in his ear, feeling your warm breath fan his face. When you drop your head back and your mouth is hanging open as your body shakes in pleasure. 

Bf!quinn: loves everything about you.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes #vancover canucks

[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters #x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #the mentalist

[pamicakery]

₊✩‧₊˚౨How to manifest Sp ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Okay... I will tell you a success story of mine, when I manifested a crush.. Who was about to become my boyfriend and... That you must be really careful about what you want.

It was when I was 16, and I had this crush on this guy let's call him Wolfie. Firstly we became friend because we were in the same group of friend so during class we used to hang out together. I grew up fond of this guy, he was sarcastic, funny and single.

At night I would draw ourselves being lovers, listening to music and making imaginary Music videos about us. Writing stories about him being my crush in them and everytime I saw a cute couple I told myself '' Hehe it gonna be us''.

Times to times he used to hang out with others girls, and I got jealous many times but I was persisting in the fact that he was my boyfriend.

Everytime we had an interaction, I would repeat Thoses scenes on loop,and draw the scene of it. The idea of us not being together was out of my mind.

Every scene I envisioned came true :

I visualized and drew us talking via text messages ➡️he asked for my number the next day

I drew us talking together during a class assignment ➡️we worked together for that class assignment and I even drew us get married.

Him sitting next to me in class ➡️he did.

We were at a point that we even had lunch together, going back home together. We were always together.

But it was too much for me, I started to complain that we were too much together and guess what? I didn't had time to breathe.

Sometimes I wanted to be alone, he was there. During the field trip, the guy came in my bedroom. (Nothing happened don't worry, but I scripted this). He even asked me out and invited me to drink milkshake... Like my first date... I was like '' noooo I don't '' but I said yes because I was about to have a milkshake for free.

I didn't know about '' manifesting '' back then, I was just imagining us being together. And it reflected, not instantly but it took 1 or 2 weeks. Manifestation is very powerful and if you are not sure about what you want, it can be really scary.

But it's just a case, maybe I was too obsessed with him. Hehe but what you have to do is :

💖 PICK A STATE :

From now on you will identify as someone who's Sp is their boyfriend. Leave the 3d alone, (By the way I didn't know about 3d or 4d at that time.)

💖: EXPRESS THAT STATE WITHIN :

Draw, visualise, listen to music, write stories. You must train your brain and Show it that SP is your boyfriend with Internal proof and validation. (Look inside of your 4d's 3d because your 4d's 3d is reflecting a state of you already having and being this person) And at every positive interaction with SP, repeat it on loop in your mind.

💖 : IGNORE THE 3D :

My Sp used to hang out and smile with girls, and I was jealous about it. But in my head he was my boyfriend.

💖:IT'S POSSIBLE :

It's possible to attract Sp, don't put logic into it because love doesn't walk with logic. Keep that image of you being together, your brain and yourself will be used to it.

I know that sometimes tell ourselves that it's only imaginary. But really, don't put chains to yourself in your mind. You didn't had to take actions in your mind, you are already there, you are already with them.

Once again, don't seek validation in the 3d of lack. Seek validation within yourself. The year before that SP, I had a rejection from another SP, same the year prior. So... Actually I didn't even changed my self concept, I just imagined myself with that guy like any girl would do.

#loa tumblr #loassumption #robotic affirming #manifestation #law of assumption #loa assumptions #loa blog #affirming loa #affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟ #affirm and persist

[rainylana]

“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate version!

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: this is a new version of my old series i wrote last year. so many people have asked to see more of how eddie deals with such a horrible thing happening to the reader, so here we go, this is for you!

warnings: PLEASE READ! this is purposely written, in the beginning, as fast paced. i was trying to establish a sense of anxiety and fear while writing it because of how quickly it happened. the assault happens differently and does not go into much detail this chapter, but will during the next. i purposely switched povs because i still wanted to give insight to the reader. so with that being said, warnings for this fic include: rape, blood and bruises, broken bones, hospitalization, language, smoking of weed, trauma and shock, lots of tears and angst. please, please, let me know what you thought and if there’s anything i need to go about differently. it’s been a year since i’ve properly revisited this series. i feel like this version will be much darker and will take more of a toll. let me know your thoughts and if anything needs changed. i never spellcheck lol. this one’s for all of us. i see you and feel you. much love, lana.

Steve Harrington’s parties were the kind that were talked about for weeks on end. The music, the food, the house. It was a mansion, and there had been many of times were you and Eddie had slept in multiple rooms of that house, unbeknownst to the owners knowledge.

This party was no different. Bodies were on bodies, beer was spilled and the pool was splashing every drop of water out into the flower bed, that was no covered in trash. There was a basketball court that entertained the jocks. It was an absolute mansion.

You were somewhere. Eddie would see you from time to time getting more beer or a snack, coming over to check on him. He closed his eyes, taking a long drag and leaned against the wall. “Shit, this shit is good.” He coughed slightly, letting his arms fall at his sides, black sleeves pulled up at his elbows.

You found him eventually, hair slightly wet from being splashed at the pool, a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Most everyone was wearing their bathing suits. You smiled when you sat down beside him, laughing at the redness of his eyes. “Feelin good, Eddie?” You tapped his chin.

He grinned at you goofily. “Shit, is the shit, babe. Wanna try?” He offered it to you.

You plopped down on your ass and sat beside him, saying hi to all the others that joined the circle. You laid your head on his shoulder. “Sure you don’t want to come swim with me, Ed? It feels good. Moons out, too. It could be romantic.”

“I give you plenty of romance, darlin’.” He said through hooded eyes, armed laid lazily around your wet shoulders. “Damn, your tits are out!” He exclaimed, finally realizing you had changed, eyes bulging for dramatics.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “My tits are not out. Everyone is wearing them! You picked it out, don’t you remember?”

“Baby, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t remember much of anything right now.” He was practically drooling at the mouth, giggling like a child and floating off into space.

“Uh, huh.” You gave him a look before turning to the rest of the group. “He’s cut off.”

He was too stoned to realize what you had said, curling up in himself and lulling his head against the wall, eyes drooping closed.

“Eddie, Eddie, oh, okay,” You sighed, watching as he fell asleep. “I’m serious, Gareth, make sure he doesn’t do anything else. I got to carry this guy home, you know.”

You sat with Eddie for almost an hour, making sure he was alright. He always was. He always got tired when he smoked weed, you did too, but not near as much as he did. You gave him a kiss on the cheek, telling everyone else you’d be back and that you were going to change your clothes.

You went to the same room you always did, walked up the same steps and same corridor, the air cool against the exposure of your wet skin. Nobody was upstairs. You had planned for a quick change and nothing more, but you hadn’t any idea what was waiting for you behind the door, or the fact you were being followed.

•

Eddie was in and out of it, waking up here and there if someone spoke loudly enough. Dustin kept laughing, about what, he didn’t know or care. He just wanted to sleep. Later on he would realize that it was probably an act of God that he heard you, because there was no scientific explanation for it. He shouldn’t have heard you.

The music was booming loud, playing a hit from Blondie over the speakers. People were chugging beers, getting high and fucking out in the shed outside, the bedrooms above. The lights were flashing on and off, mixtures of colors painting the walls, their bodies. There was no way he could of heard you, yet he did.

He felt as if he were dreaming at first. His eyes were still closed, body numb from the awkward position he was in. It felt like a loud thumping at first, like something had hit the floor. Then a crash, something had broke. Then a high pitched noise, someone had screamed. It had to have been a dream, because he swore it was you.

Eddies eyes peeled open slowly, foggy and clouded from his high, but he didn’t feel so good anymore, and was left with a chill up his spine. He looked to the right of him to find you gone. “Gareth?” His voice was gravely and deep. “Where’d y/n go?”

Gareth pointed up the stairs quickly, eager to get back to his conversation with Robin about her thoughts on the new Back to the Future movie. Eddie had pushed himself up and found the stairs. It was a mansion, having had to climb four sets of stairs before he could find the hallway. Each set he could hear it clearer. He still shouldn’t have. The music was too loud. He could feel the vibrations underneath his feet against the wood flooring.

He walked quicker and quicker, the sounds of crashing, screaming, begging, becoming louder and louder. Soon, he heard his own name, and he knew it was you. He was running then, as fast as he could to find you. And when he did, the last door on the left, the same room you both had slept in many of times, he was brought to pure horror.

•

You weren’t entirely sure what was happening. Well, you did. You had been raped. You were just confused what was happening now. You were sitting up, staring blankly at the floor. Eddie was down at your feet, saying something, saying a lot of things, actually, but you couldn’t hear him. It sounded like he was underwater. Your ears were ringing, and he kept dabbing his hand under your nose. Were you bleeding?

Your hands were vibrating, along with the other parts of your body, shaking like you were having a seizure. Surely you’d pass out soon. Everything you felt was heightened. The pain, the emotion, or lack of. You soon realized you were going into shock.

You felt everything, yet nothing, all at the same time.

•

Four seconds.

It had taken four seconds for Eddie to react. Four seconds for him to decide what to do. He’d found you bent over the bed, hands pinned above your head and legs split apart. The man above you, twice your size, twice his size, a man he’d never seen before, raping you. It had taken him four seconds to react.

The man above you had stopped when Eddie had come in, staring at him in the act with a look of surprise and shock. Eddie lunged then, knocking the man over and into a side table that crumbled under their weight, a string of punches and curses, the sound of choking and items breaking. There was so much noise, but you didn’t hear any of it. You laid there, bent over, legs spread, a mixture of blood and semen seeping out of you as you stared straight ahead, fixated on the painting in front of you.

Steve and his mom at the beach.

You didn’t hear the sound of Eddie’s cry of pain when your attacker punched the wind out of him, you didn’t hear him run out of the room or Eddie’s footsteps after him, halting halfway and returning back to you. You kept thinking of Steve and his mom. She was so sweet. You really should spend more time with her.

All of that, led to now.

“Baby, baby, please, please, say something!” He panicked, knelt down at your legs, holding your arms to keep you upright, “Oh, God,” He took another look at your legs, covered in blood. “Oh, my god, Oh, my god.” He covered his mouth briefly, not knowing what to do. “Okay, okay,” He jumped up, running to the joining bathroom to grab a towel. “Okay, baby, I got this, see?” He started quickly wiping away at the blood, switching his eyes from his legs to you.

It looked like you’d been killed, or were dying. You said nothing, deathly pale, face stained with tears and mascara, deep bruising that painted your cheeks and eyes purple. Your lip was busted and bleeding. You were shaking with tremors, your breath coming out in little pants that were uneven. You were choking on your sobs, not a single one being allowed out. It hurt to sit, the pain in your abdomen was almost unbearable.

Eddie didn’t realize it himself, but he was also going in to shock. It became harder and harder to get the blood off of you due to his shaky hands, and his breathing become more sporadic and choppy. “I’m getting it, honey. I’m trying.” He said, words coming out in a rush. The towel was stained red when he’d finished, your legs still coated, stained by the blood from inside of you. He looked you over, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n,” He gasped, reaching up to grab your face. “Talk to me. Are you hurt? Where does it hurt at?”

You couldn’t look at him. It felt impossible. Your eyes were so heavy. His voice still sounded as if he were underwater, his movements slow, like he was fighting off a current, and you suddenly became freezing, trembling harder like you were out in the snow. Maybe it was the shock.

“Honey, please,” Eddie begged you, eyes tearing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

When he noticed how hard you were shaking, he jumped up and got a blanket from the chair, wrapping it around your body and sitting next to you. “Okay, here, I’m here. Steve!” His scream snapped you out of it, making you gasp and jump.

“No!” Your voice was hoarse, burning as you screamed. “No!” You tried to stand but you collapsed, pointing to the door. “Close the door! Close the door!”

Your urgency made him obey quickly, and he was slamming the door and locking it within a second. “Y/n-”

“You can’t tell anyone!” You sobbed, wobbling on your legs. You were a sight, one that would traumatize him for the rest of his life. “No one, swear it! Let’s just go home!” You we’re a wreck, sobbing, hyperventilating, shaking. Surely you would faint.

“Angel, baby,” He tried to approach you, but you freaked.

“No!” You jumped away. “Don’t- don’t touch me, please!” Was the room getting darker?

“Okay, okay,” He held up his hands, heart racing and bulging, fearful eyes. “I won’t touch you. I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded, mouth opening and closing, feet shuffling, limping, trying to stay upright. Surely, you would faint.

•

His elbows are on his knees, hands pressed against his mouth. The chair he’s in is uncomfortable, an ache in his back that matches the one in his heart. Wayne is there, sitting across from him on the other side of the room. Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin are outside in the waiting room, along with the rest of hellfire. He tried to be discreet. Well no, that wasn’t true. When you’d fainted, Eddie lost it.

He’d swooped you up in his arms, carrying you down stairs, a sobbing mess, looking anywhere for anyone, to help. He found Mike first, then Chrissy Cunningham. The party was over very quickly.

“Eddie.” Wayne said tiredly, wearing a puffed, flannel coat. “Why don’t you go home, bud? I’ll stay with her.”

“No.” He didn’t miss a beat. He was staring a hole right through you, eyes so tearful they looked to be made of glass. “I can’t leave her.”

Wayne knew he wouldn’t leave. It was four in the morning, and you hadn’t shown any signs of life. If it weren’t for the machines, Eddie was sure you would have been dead. You were so quiet, not a stir, not a twitch. Were you dreaming? Was it good or a nightmare?

“She’s alright, buddy. You know that.” Wayne could see the telltale signs of his panic attack coming on. “You heard what the doctor said.”

You had abrasions along your vaginal walls. Your nose was broken, now covered with gauze and medical tape. You had two broken ribs, bruises covering your entire body. The doctor had asked him questions he didn’t know the answer to. Eddie knew what had happened, but what had really happened?

You would be okay. He knew that. You were alive and you survived. But were you okay? What would you become when you woke up? You would be totally traumatized, or would you simply move on with life? He knew the answer and he hated himself for knowing it. He knew the pain you were going to suffer when you woke up. He saw it. He saw what it was you would have to endure. A part of him wished you would sleep peacefully forever.

It felt like every vital organ inside of him had been ripped apart, like his stomach had been cut and everything spilled out. He’d thrown up twice since they got to the hospital. It been hours since you both got there. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d saw. Your body being used, abused by a man who had beaten you up, raped you, split you open and left bloody.

“Oh, god, Wayne.” Eddie broke down in sobs, shoulders sinking and face hiding into his hands for a shield, a mask to hide from the world. “This is all my fault.”

The image of you had scared his brain, the mental image something he thought he’d never be able to erase. Through everything he had gone through, this moment here, was the worst moment he had ever lived through, and he himself, would make a deal with god if he could, just to take your place, to take it all away. The love of his life was in pain, and it caused him more hurt than he could have ever imagined.

His uncle looked at him, saddened and distraught for the both of you. “Don’t say that, Eddie. You know she’d hate to hear you say somethin’ like that.”

Eddie’s body shook with heavy, deep and broken cries. “It is. I was asleep. I was asleep and stoned out of my mind while she was being raped right above me!” He practically spat the words with a venomous hatred, throwing out his arm as he looked at you longingly. “I failed her. Her, of all people. I fuckin’ failed the one thing I care about most. How the hell am I supposed to live with this?”

Wayne watched him stare at you, stare at you and cry like he was mourning for the entire world, like you had been taken from him.

“How are we supposed to be okay after this, Wayne?” He looked like a little boy then, looking over to his uncle with big, brown eyes. “How can I…how can she ever forgive me?” Another sob, and another. Wayne was sat beside him now, holding his shoulders as Eddie cried.

“You two have been through hell together.” The old man said, on hand on his nephews new. “You’ll get through this. She will and you will. She stood by your side when you were dying, remember? She helped you through it. It did you both in, but you got through it, didn’t you?

He didn’t answer, but he heard his uncle loud and clear. He didn’t know how he’d do it, but he’d help you in every way he could. He owed it to you. You’d patched him up, held him through nightmares and insecurities about his scars. You fed him, helped clothed him and helped him keep himself clean when he was still too sore to move around. You had put your own life on pause for him. He owed it to you to do the same. In his eyes, it was his own fault it happened, anyways.

“Yeah.” Eddie sniffled, wiping away his tears with his jacket. “Yeah, I- you’re right. You’re right. I can help her. I’ll help her. She’ll be okay.”

“She’ll be okay.” Wayne assured him.

He didn’t realize just how hard it was going to be, how a giant rift in your relationship would almost separate the two of you. That the both of you would be forever changed from that night.

Eddie gulped, blinking back tears as he looked at the steady beating of your heart in the vital screen. “She’ll be okay.”

#eddie munson #i will always take care of you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female character #female reader

[mysticheathenn]

What Is Your Next Tower Moment?

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is for my Patreon All Tiers. This pick-a-card reading is all about what chaos will the universe (God, Allah, etc) bring to shake up your world to bring in change.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

Extended Patreon Includes:

Why Is this Happening?

What outcome can this tower moment bring?

Extra Messages

MasterList

Patreon Link

Ko-Fi Donations

Pile l:

What is Your Next Tower Moment? Tarot: 10 of Swords, 8 of Wands (reversed), Judgement, The Tower, The High Priestess (reversed)

Endings. There is something in your life pile l that you keep ignoring your intuition that is causing you displeasure, pain, unhappiness, etc that you are taking your very sweet slow time in trying to correct or remove this issue from your life. This could be a dead-end relationship, a job, your living situation, etc. Overall you are in a toxic environment and I feel you have been given so many chances to try and correct, end, or do something with this situation and you keep ignoring your intuition to the point the universe and spirit guides are starting to get a bit frustrated because they want better for you. They are close to taking matters into their own hands and literally rocking your world if you do not take care of this situation yourself in a timely manner. For those who are in a relationship that is either dead or toxic the quote that came to me "Never let someone tell you they don't want you twice." That "twice" is going to be the universe stepping in to cause a situation they know you can no longer overlook to end things. This doesn't have to be a relationship, this could be a job, even school. Some of you I feel are in a major that you don't want to do anymore or at a school you no longer want to be at but because it's cheaper, your friends are there, it's close to home, etc you decide to keep attending. Patreon Post Link

Pile ll:

What is Your Next Tower Moment? Tarot: 8 of Wands (reversed), 10 of Cups (reversed), The Fool, Ace of Cups, 6 of Wands

"What you want is on the other side of fear." - Will Smith. At first pile ll I was a bit confused because you have nothing but successful cards that came out for you. 8 of cups is all about rapid movement, Ace & 10 of cups is all about varied fulfillment (emotional, financial, etc), The fool new beginnings, and 6 of wands is the victory card...so why the long face in this reading you may ask and I believe there are quite a few of you that may have resonated from my previous reading "Where does your life require focus". You may have chosen pile ll or pile lll maybe even a part of pile lV but mostly pile ll and lll where I discussed acting on and believing in your goals, dreams, and etc. This is also your tower moment where the universe/your spirit team are ready to push you from the nest whether you are "ready" or not. Ready or Not by The Fugees is playing in my head. It's the chorus part:

"Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide Gonna find you and take it slowly Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide Gonna find you and make you want me"

They are tired of you wanting to do things when you are ready. The time is now to act on your visions, goals, and dreams. "If you never start you will never act." "There is never a right time." So many quotes are coming in for you pile ll and I think you know all of this but yet there is still no movement on your part. It's as if you hear and see things that encourage and remind you to take the jump and you get inspired but then never act on the things you are being called to do. It's getting to the point where some of you are getting annoyed because you can't escape these messages...well here we are again love. So sorry to be the one to do this to you as well to remind you to just jump. This is very specific for a few of you but you do not need to have an aesthetically pleasing place to live to shoot videos, nor do you need a billion dollars to start. You have everything you need just use the resources you have and start. Patreon Post Link

Pile lll:

What is Your Next Tower Moment? Tarot: 3 of Pentacles, 2 of Swords, Five of Wands (reversed), 10 of Pentacles (Reversed), 10 of Cups

Avoidance. Loss. This is my passive-aggressive pile. Some of you may hate dealing with confrontation and deal with things either passively-aggressively or just sweep things underneath the rug to keep the "peace." Unfortunately for you pile lll you will no longer be able to keep doing what you are doing. The blindfolds are coming off and you will have to deal with your circumstances one way or another. For some of you, this has to do with finances, I'm hearing you letting someone borrow money and they fail to pay you back or even you failing to keep a budget and overspending because you are constantly treating yourself and/or filling the hole in your life with things and not addressing the real issue. For others of you this is more so about the people around you that is causing you to feel this intermoil. You keep turning a blind eye to everything they are doing and not holding people accountable for their actions even when they are hurting you and others around you. The Ace of Cups card is a cup that has a hand and a cup that is overflowing with love, fulfillment, and peace but instead of that for you it's as if you are constantly always overflowing with chances, don't worry about it, I'm fine, etc. It's getting to the point where your cup is about to run dry on the behaviors of others around you and even yourself when it comes to your financial situation. This may be really specific for a few of you but stop letting other people stop your bag. For some of you, this is your management team at your job, family, friends, etc. Someone could be stopping your bag because of horrible scheduling at work, you not wanting to be around certain people so you keep the peace knowing management is trash, whatever the reasoning is you are taking a financial loss by allowing others to constantly walk all over you. Some of you are keeping the peace because you want a promotion, raise, etc when really you are taking a loss emotionally, financially, etc. Patreon Post Link

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

#spirituality #witchblr #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pick a card #tarot cards #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick an image #patreon

[akutasoda]

Well then in that case.

You can fic or Headcanons, may I request AlHaitham and Cyno with an s/o that like to dip their face into his chest. Listen man. When you saw those abs so CLEARLY. CYNO not wearing any shirt chest open like that UHMMM~ Let me stuffed my face into that 😩🤭

personal pillow

synopsis - how they react when their s/o likes to dip their face into their chest

includes - cyno, alhaitham

warnings - gn!reader, slight crack, fluff, wc - 508

a/n: couldn't decide between hcs or fic so a little mix of both!

cyno ★↷

↪cyno wasn't exactly the most accustomed to relationships and things people would do as a couple and so he became rather confused when you would randomly dip your face into his chest (he's 5'3 so good luck if you're taller).

↪if he really thought about it, he did notice how he'd sometimes catch you staring at him and he'd always ask if something was wrong but you'd tell him everything was fine - so he never really questioned you apart from the first time you surprised him...

---✩

it was a rare day where both you and cyno had time to yourselves - he hadn't been called anywhere and you had the day off. so you took the initiative and take him to a spot in the forests that was suggested to you by tighnari, a beautiful area with nobody around. a small picnic was all it really was. but it was a small fleeting moment for both you and cyno to spend time together.

it was nice, you two passionately talked back and forth about a range of subjects and you laughed at his horrible dad jokes because you wanted to treasure this moment. although you couldn't help but pick up on the fact that your eyes would occasionally drift to his chest. i mean, who could blame you when cyno openly walked around shirtless every single day and no desert heat could be an excuse in the middle of sumeru or the forest.

'is something the matter' cyno asked, perhaps he also picked up on the fact you had been staring for a bit too long. you shook your head and dismissed any concerns but you quickly went back on your words as you promptly dipped your face into his chest without much of a warning. you could practically hear his heartbeat increase as he sat there with a rather shocked expression.

there was a while of silence before you lifted your head to a flustered cyno and you claimed that nothing was wrong now before continuing as if you didn't just bury your face into his open chest. cyno struggled a tad to fight the blush forming on his face and tried to distract himself by re-engaging your previous conversation with a few stutters here and there.

---✩

↪even though it caught him off guard many times, he wouldn't say he didn't enjoy it. there was something weirdly flattering to him that you would openly choose to dip your face into his chest - and in honesty, if he didn't like it he'd tell you or actually put a shirt on.

↪he'd let you dip your face into his chest practically anywhere if you wanted to, he understood he went away quite a bit of duty and so it was to make up for that.

↪he wouldn't really ask you why but if he did he most likely would just be met with a response along the lines of 'maybe if you put a shirt on you, it wouldn't be such a tempting offer' although he doubts you would stop if he did so.

alhaitham ★↷

↪alhaitham never really would've guessed you'd be the kind to resort to dipping your face in his chest. sure he'd seen you do a few dumb things but this really would blow his predictions about you and your actions out of the water.

↪maybe he should've picked up the signs - especially when he'd catch ypu staring - sooner so that the first time you ever did it, it wouldn't give him a shock as he didn't quite know how to react...

---✩

it had been a very long day for you, the akademiya had kept you running back and forth instead of allowing your job to be simple for a change. you were absolutely exhausted and your whole body was aching for a minute of rest that didn't even have the opportunity to arise until you made it to the front door of your lovers, and his blonde companion, home.

your eyes felt like they were drooping as you fumbled around in your bag to find the key, eventually you managed to push the door open. you immediately slumped your bag beside the door even though you knew alhaitham would complain later because it would 'be in the way', but how could he complain when you occupied his attention?

you sought out his attention immediately, all you wanted was to curl up next to him and bury your face into his chest - who could blame you really. he was home, you knew he was, the akademiya had granted him a rare day off and he made it very clear not to be disturbed but you didn't really care about that right now. alhaitham could be found in his room slouched against the couch's armrest with a book in hand. he barely had time to look up at you when you entered the room before you had crossed it entirely and pulled the book out of his hand, immediately face planting into his chest.

'and what do you thi-' he hadn't the chance to finish before you lifted your head slightly and pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing manner and then puttiing your head back into his chest. you heard and felt his chest lift and sink again as he let out a long drawn out sigh. he had a mind to push you off and comment on your behaviour but he couldn't even bring himself to nudge you off. sure it was unexpected but a part of him felt like he should expect the most random things from you and so the shock easily wore off.

he felt you nuzzle your way impossibly closer into his chest and he knew he had no chance of leaving anytime soon. the closest he had to moving was reaching for another book on the side table and begin reading again.

---✩

↪now that he knew of your little habit he could prepare himself mentally for your attacks. he didn't really mind but his one rule was for you not to dip your face into his chest in public, he was a rather important figure and he didn't need people seeing him indulge you in your habit.

↪no, kaveh did not count as public at home - he could get over it. alhaitham quickly learnt just to ignore you if you dipped your head into his chest and could just wait until you decided you had your fill.

↪he would always sight at you and question your behaviour but you knew if he really didn't like you doing it, he would easily push you off and scold you.

↪he asked you once why you liked to, and he regretted it immediately when you looked at him then his chest before looking him in the eyes and gesturing to his chest.

akutasoda's 1k event

#—stellaronhvnters. #↪♡akutasoda's 1k event ♡ #x reader #x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact cyno #genshin cyno #cyno x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

[aphrostarot]

A Message From Someone Who Loves You Pick a Pile

As this is a general collective reading, some things may not resonate with you or your situation. DO NOT try forcing it to fit. If you would like to book a personalized reading with me go to my profile and follow the instructions on my pinned post.

If you enjoyed this reading and wanted to support me further you can do so by tipping me in the link in my bio or by booking a personal reading with me.

Pile One:

Who are the people who chose this pile?

Seven of Water, Ace of Air, and The Fool:

You are a very optimistic person at your core. You embody all of the characteristics of a dreamer, someone who never lets the world bring them down. This is not to say that you don’t think things through or are blindly optimistic, actually, you are quite the opposite. You are a very intelligent person who doesn’t make any decisions before you think it through first. You have so many big dreams and can imagine yourself accomplishing almost anything you set your mind on. Nothing can hold you back or make you change your mind when you’ve decided that something will bring you joy. Many people would describe you as someone who is constantly smiling, always happy, and seeing the world for the good not the bad. You know that there is bad in the world, you just choose not to dwell on it.

Who is this person coming forward with a message?

Patience, Nine of Earth, and Page of Earth:

First off, I want to start by saying that for many of you, this person may be someone you knew who passed away. For others, this may be someone in your spiritual team, a deity, an angel, etc. While for some of you, this may be someone who is still in the material realm that you know. This person could be an earth sign (Virgo, Capricorn, or Taurus) or just have a very down-to-earth chill vibe. They may also be someone who is or was very interested in the Earth or space, either as a career or as a hobby.

This person is very practical and ambitious, when they are interested in something they set their mind to it and stop at nothing to complete it. They are very successful and self-sufficient because of their ability to push through all the chaos and keep at it until they see the results they want. You may admire them for their ability to almost always have a practical solution for almost anything that comes their way. They are always growing and looking for ways to grow which is something you may try to emulate.

What is their message to you?

Justice, Four of Fire, Nine of Air, and Six of Air:

You have been struggling with anxieties and fear for quite some time and they see that. They are saying to you that there are people in your life that are making you feel this despair and you need to let go of them. You may be waiting for the right moment to get revenge but, they are telling you that karma will come around no matter what, they will make sure of it, and you don’t need to worry about that. What you need to worry about right now is yourself and the energy you surround yourself with, make sure you are keeping your space and your energy clear of negativity so you can get out of this darkness you’ve been finding yourself in.

Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?

Five of Earth, Eight of Earth, and Strength Reversed:

For those of you who resonated with this person having passed away, you have been stuck in that grief that when you feel their presence trying to get your attention you ignore them because it is too hard for you to address it. This is why you have not been able to receive this message. For the other people that this person is still in the material realm, you have been feeling that loss and grief more towards yourself, and your belief in yourself. Since you have been surrounded by negative people and energy for so long, they have drained you of your energy, making you believe you aren’t worthy which is why you have been so blinded to this message trying to come through. This person has been trying to reach out to you, or maybe even has been telling you this but you have not been aware of it. You’ve been so distracted by the things in your life, maybe a hobby that you’ve been so focused on that when this person is talking to you, you may just brush them off. Or, you hear them trying to tell you that you need to let these people go because they are not good for you and you just don’t think you are strong enough or confident enough to do that or, you don’t want to cause any problems or drama so you stay in these negative relationships.

How can you better receive this message in the future?

Ten of Fire, and Messenger of Earth:

Patience is needed while you work through these messages. You have been in such a dark place and may be unaware of how the people in your life are the ones playing a huge role in why you have been in this darkness so, having this person trying to tell you to let them go comes as a surprise and your first reaction is to get defensive and shut them down. This is why you need patience, you are in such a sensitive state lately that allowing yourself time to process will really help you feel less frazzled and stressed out. It is also worth noting that you need to recognize how much responsibility it is to address the energies you keep in your life and when you start to approach cleansing these energies out of your life you need to be mature and sensitive towards others and towards yourself.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Three of Water:

The Three of Cups is the card of friendships and community, as well as celebrations and gatherings. So, having this as the overall energy of this reading is again, clarifying that you need to look at the energy you keep around you, especially in your friendships. When you want to throw a party or are invited to one, before you go or start inviting people, be careful and mindful of the people who you want around you so you don’t keep bringing yourself down.

There is a lot of Aries energy in this pile so, you could be an Aries or have strong Aries placements.

I was also getting a lot of images of bugs coming through while I was doing this reading, specifically stink bugs, so that may be a symbol for some of you.

More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)

Pile Two:

Who are the people who chose this pile?

Three of Swords, Four of Swords, and Death:

You have gone through an ending of some sort in your life recently. I believe that this ending was a relationship, either a friendship, or a romantic relationship, and because of this, you have been feeling heartbroken, not knowing what happened in that relationship and why this ending happened. Because you have been feeling so upset and down in the dumps you have been giving yourself time to rest, wanting to hide away and not show your face because you know you won't be able to hide how you’ve been feeling. I was feeling very nauseous while doing this reading so, many of you may actually be experiencing physical sickness not just mental sickness because of this ending. For those of you who can’t hide away all day long and have to go out in public for work or for whatever reasons, I believe that you have been forcing a smile and pretending everything has been just fine in your life while you have actually been really struggling internally. Lots of you may be feeling like your brain has been in a fog like it’s been moving slower than usual. There was a very heavy, dark energy with this pile, I had to walk away and finish this reading another day. Many of you have been living in that darkness for quite some time now and I am sorry that you have been experiencing this, I hope that this reading can help bring some light and healing into your life.

Who is this person coming forward with a message?

The Lovers, Five of Swords, and The Empress:

I think this is why it came as such a shock to you that this person could ever do something to betray you because they are such a kind and nurturing person. They have such strong feminine energy, giving off strong maternal nurturing energy that you would've never thought that they would be the type to hurt you. I think that what you didn’t see though, was that this person was also hurting, they were going through some sort of conflict in their life when they did whatever it was that they did to hurt you. I believe they had no intentions of hurting you with whatever they did, it feels almost like it was a miscommunication between the both of you that caused this fallout. Based on the energy I am getting from this person I believe that they miss you and they never meant to hurt you. They are deeply saddened by what happened between the two of you.

What is their message to you?

Five of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Five of Cups, and Page of Swords:

Like I said above, this person is deeply saddened by the loss of you in their life and they really want to reach out to work things out with you. They may have already been trying to reach out but you have them blocked or just have ignored all of their messages. They want to get together with you and explain to you their side of the story. I don’t know if they want to start a relationship with you again, but I do know they want to talk with you to explain everything that happened. It feels to me that they don’t like leaving things on a bad note and they want to resolve these issues so that there is no bad blood between you anymore.

Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?

Seven of Wands, Knight of Swords, Two of Cups, and Two of Swords:

When you were with this person you thought they were a soul mate of yours that you two were destined to be in each other's lives forever, but then they did something that betrayed you and now you are in a state of defending your ego. Not wanting to even see this person because it hurts too much and you have put up walls trying to protect yourself from getting hurt and embarrassed like that again. However, all of that being said, there is a part of you that wants to hear this person out because you still care for this person deeply and that makes you even angrier because you wish you were the type of person who could just drop somebody without thinking of it but you’re not, you are very sensitive and this may be something you are embarrassed about. On top of all of that, you may be the type of person who doesn’t open up to someone very easily and you open up to this person only for them to betray you, which is another reason why you are not willing to hear this person out. You are very embarrassed and hurt at this moment and are on the defensive, trying to protect yourself.

How can you better receive this message in the future?

Queen of Swords, The World, and The Hanged Man Reversed:

I believe that there is a part of you that understands that this person is desperate to communicate with you and that part wants to hear them out but you are on the defensive and are letting your pride get in the way of this. What you need to do is let this go, stop letting your ego dictate your moves at this time. I know this is hard to do but once you do this you will heal parts of yourself you feel will never heal. The Queen of Swords is someone who is very good at making decisions without letting their feelings get in the way and this is something you need to embrace for you to hear this person out. You are moving nowhere in your spiritual and healing journey by letting your ego drive you in this moment and your guides are telling you here that by letting this side of you go, you will be able to move forward.

With all of the swords coming out, there is strong Air energy in this reading. So, you could be a Libra, Aquarius, or Gemini or have these placements in your chart. There is also strong Cancer energy with this pile as well so you could have Cancer in your chart or this person could also be a Cancer.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Ten of Swords:

The Ten of Swords is the card of victimization and betrayal. So, this is another confirmation that you are feeling this betrayal and feeling like a victim at this moment.

More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)

Pile Three:

Who are the people who chose this pile?

Seven of Pentacles, Seven of Wands, Six of Wands, and Five of Swords:

Right off of the bat pile three it seems that some conflicting energies are coming out for you. On one hand, you are seen as a very successful and patient person who embodies the definition of perseverance and contemplation. However, on the other hand, you are also in a very difficult place right now. Internally you are struggling. You may believe that you have to constantly prepare yourself for opposition in everything you do in life. This may be a defense mechanism that you have developed because of people in your life constantly belittling and second-guessing every step you take. However, based on the energy of this reading I do not believe you need to be defending yourself. I don't believe that there is anyone in your life at this current moment who has the intention of putting you down. But, you still feel like there is so, you are in a place at the moment where you are jumping down people's throats for no reason. I believe that you are very spiritual. You have strong intuition and you know this but you may be afraid of it, so you stuff it down and ignore it which is not helping you at all. This may be why you have been struggling to discern whether or not people have negative intentions toward you or not.

Who is this person coming forward with a message?

Ten of Wands, Seven of Swords, and Ace of Cups:

This person who is coming forward with a message for you is a mentor of some sort. For many of you this may be a deity that you worship who is helping you in your spiritual practice, for others this may be your inner child coming forward with a message for you. This person may seem like they are intentionally hiding things from you and not giving you the full picture, which is why I believe that for many of you, this is a deity that you work with. This person has a lot of love for you and is coming forward with open arms, wanting you to feel their love and warmth, but, they are also struggling deeply right now. I feel like this struggle they are facing is because of you. As I said before you are highly spiritual but you have been ignoring that side of yourself and since this person is a mentor for you, specifically in spirituality, they are struggling because you are not listening to their advice. It’s almost like you speak with them sometimes and ask them for help but you don’t actually listen to what they have to say to you and you aren’t actively working with them which is what is causing this struggle for them because they don’t understand why you are wanting to work with them when you don’t actually do any of the work.

What is their message to you?

King of Cups, Five of Wands, The Fool, and Quote:

The quote that is specific to this deck came out for you pile three. It says; “What we see in the symbology of tarot derives in large measure from our own intuition and, once revealed, reflects back upon each of us to further enrich our lives.” As I said above pile three, you are highly intuitive but you do not tap into it. Instead, you choose to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist, and to that, this person is telling you that your intuition is not a bad thing, in fact, once you start listening to it, it will actually improve your quality of life. The King of Cups represents an advisor, someone who is very balanced between their head and their heart. This person wants you to know that they are in your life to help you, to guide you and it is time you start to actually listen to what they have to say. They say you worry too much, that you think way too much about the what-ifs, and that you are letting your ego get in the way too much when it comes to your spirituality. Instead, you need to just let go, and let your intuition guide you with the aid of this person. It can be troublesome when you have control issues to let go and let something or someone else take control but, it’s important to remember that your intuition is also a part of you. So, when you’re letting go and letting your intuition take over it is still you in control just not the part of you that over-intellectualizes everything. Overall, it seems like their message to you is to stop hiding from your spirituality and to actually start tapping into it. It’s time for you to start living a spiritually fulfilled life.

Why haven’t you been able to receive this message?

Page of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, and The Star:

I think this is where I am getting your inner child coming forward. It seems as though your inner child is the reason you are not able to receive this message and I think this is because a lot of your defense mechanisms are coming from the wounded part of your inner child. You as you are currently, are very hard-working and practical, however, your inner child is the opposite. It seems like you have some very deep wounds from your childhood that you have not dealt with which is what has been causing you to block out these messages. Since you have not healed your inner child, and instead choose to ignore that part of yourself as well, you are stuck and will continue to be stuck until you address these issues that are holding you back and making you not see these messages that are coming through.

How can you better receive this message in the future?

The Emperor, The High Priestess, and King of Swords:

What is interesting to me, pile three, is that you have control issues yet, when it comes to healing parts of yourself and working on your spirituality, you act as though it is out of your control. I know I said above that you need to give up your control issues when it comes to your spirituality and listening to this mentor but that does not mean that you just give up and do nothing. You are still in control of your life and are in the driver's seat of your life so, what this means when it comes to your spirituality and your healing journey, is you need to listen to the advice of this mentor and then make the moves for yourself. Give up your control and need to be the one who makes all the decisions. Instead, let this mentor guide you while you implement their practice and advice into your life.

Bottom of the deck energy:

Six of Cups:

The whole underlying energy of this reading is nostalgia and memories. What this confirms for me is that some healing needs to be done when it comes to your past traumas because they are what is holding you back right now.

The colors gold and purple were big with this pile so, they may have some significance to you.

For some, it may be that you should start wearing gold jewelry, or surrounding yourself with gold decor while you practice your spirituality.

Fruit was a big symbol with this pile as well, specifically red fruit. To me, this is a message from this deity that they want you to start eating more red fruit and if you have an altar for this deity they may want you to leave them some red fruits.

I was also hearing “days of the week” so, some of you may need to start scheduling times throughout the days to sit down and work on your spirituality. For some of you, this may be the only way that you will actually do it.

More Specific Messages (Extended Reading)

#tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot #oracle readings #oracle #astrology #Aries #Taurus #cancer #Gemini #Leo #Virgo #Libra #Scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #aphrostarot

[thorraborinn]

hello there! today i came across a claim that sort of baffled me. someone said that they believed the historical norse heathens viewed their own myths literally. i was under the impression that the vast majority of sources we have are christian sources, so it seems pretty hard to back that up. is there any actual basis for this claim? thanks in advance for your time!

Sorry for the delay, I've been real busy lately and haven't been home much. Even after making you wait I'm still going to give a copout answer.

I think the most basic actual answer is that it's doubtful that someone has a strong basis to make that claim, and the same would probably go for someone claiming they didn't take things literally. I think we just don't know, and most likely, it was mixed-up bits of both literal and non-literal belief, and which parts were literal and which parts weren't varied from person to person. We have no reason so suppose that there was any compulsion to believe things in any particular way.

About Christians being the interlocutors of a lot of mythology, this is really a whole separate question. On one hand there's the question of whether they took their myths literally, and on the other is entirely different question about whether or not we can know what those myths were. Source criticism in Norse mythology is a pretty complicated topic but the academic consensus is definitely that there are things we can know for sure about Norse myth, and a lot more that we can make arguments for. For instance the myth of Thor fishing for Miðgarðsormr is attested many times, not only by Snorri but by pagan skálds and in art. Myths of the Pagan North by Christopher Abram is a good work about source criticism in Norse mythology.

Though this raises another point, because the myth of Thor fishing is not always the same. Just like how we have a myth of Thor's hammer being made by dwarves, and a reference to a different myth where it came out of the sea. Most likely, medieval Norse people were encountering contradictory information in different performances of myth all the time. So while that leaves room for at least some literal belief, it couldn't be a rigid, all-encompassing systematic treatment of all myth as literal. We have good reason to believe they changed myths on purpose and that it wasn't just memory errors.

I know you're really asking whether this one person has any grounds for their statement, and I've already answered that I don't think they do. But this is an interesting thought so I'm going to keep poking at it. I'm not sure that I'm really prepared to discuss this properly, but my feeling is that this is somehow the wrong question. I don't know how to explain this with reference to myth, so I'm going to make a digression, and hope that you get the vibe of what I'm getting at by analogy. Edward Burnett Tylor (1832–1917) described animism in terms of beliefs, "belief in spiritual beings," i.e. a belief that everything (or at least many things) has a soul or spirit. But this is entirely contradicted by later anthropology. Here's an except from Pantheologies by Mary Jane Rubenstein, p. 93:

their animacy is not a matter of belief but rather of relation; to affirm that this tree, that river, or the-bear-looking-at-me is a person is to affirm its capacity to interact with me—and mine with it. As Tim Ingold phrases the matter, “we are dealing here not with a way of believing about the world, but with a condition of living in it.”

In other words, "belief" doesn't even really play into it, whether or not you "believe" in the bear staring you down is nonsensical, and if you can be in relation with a tree then the same goes for that relationality; "believing" in it is totally irrelevant or at least secondary. Myths are of course very different and we can't do a direct comparison here, but I have a feeling that the discussion of literal versus nonliteral would be just as secondary to whatever kind of value the myths had.

One last thing I want to point out is that they obviously had the capacity to interpret things through allegory and metaphor because they did that frequently. This is most obvious in dream interpretations in the sagas. Those dreams usually convey true, prophetic information, but it has to be interpreted by wise people who are skilled at symbolic interpretation. I they ever did this with myths, I'm not aware of any trace they left of that, but we can at least be sure that there was nothing about the medieval Norse mind that confined it to literalism.

For multiple reasons this is not an actual answer but it's basically obligatory to mention that some sagas, especially legendary or chivalric sagas, were referred to in Old Norse as lygisögur, literally 'lie-sagas' (though not pejoratively and probably best translated just as 'fictional sagas'). We know this mostly because Sverrir Sigurðsson was a big fan of lygisögur. But this comes from way too late a date to be useful for your question.

[nadvs]

we need a second part of imperfect strangers where he actually comes and visits her for the weekends🤭 (random but i can so see them at chipotle being all cutesy)

aw tysm 💘 wrote a blurb and rly leaned into the goofy fluff but it’s NEEDED with zach imo!!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

continuation of this fic

Zach acts like a four-hour drive to your college is nothing.

You know he’s tired every time he pulls up in front of your dorm. You can see it in the bags under his eyes and the yawns he tries to hide from you.

But matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t have to come visit you every weekend, he won’t hear it. He’s determined to show you how badly he wants to see you, refusing to take the risk of hurting you again.

When you mention to Zach that you’re craving Chipotle the night before his visit, he finds the closest one to your campus while still on the phone with you.

The second you get into his car the next day, he kisses you before you can even get a chance to put on your seatbelt.

“Missed you, too,” you laugh when he pulls back.

After he buys lunch, you sit in a booth by a window in the restaurant, feet bumping beneath the table. He always wants to find a way to touch you, no matter how minor.

“This is a masterpiece,” he says, holding out his bowl, ridiculously competitive as usual. “I don’t know what that is.”

You gasp as he points at your meal.

“What makes yours so perfect?” you ask. He loves how you always play along with him, that you’re as much of a goofball as he is.

“Look,” Zach says, his delivery deadpan but his motive silly like usual, “I got the protein - the steak, of course…”

“Of course,” you echo amusedly.

“And brown rice, great for lowering cholesterol,” he says.

“You take one nutrition course and suddenly you’re a genius,” you sigh, recalling how he told you about one of his elective classes on the phone a few nights ago.

“Babe, I’m being serious here,” Zach says, the smile curling on his lips telling you he’s not being serious at all.

“Continue.” You take a bite of your lunch.

“Corn, a vegetable,” he says, raising his eyebrows, “salsa, extra cheese-”

“I think you’re cheesy enough,” you interrupt, putting a palm up. Zach laughs and nudges your knee with his.

“You love it,” he says. You smile, confirming it.

“Is this who you are now that you’re a local celebrity?” you tease. “All ego?”

A few days ago, a photo of him playing soccer in a home game was posted on his college’s Instagram account, celebrating the team’s most recent win.

As you expected, the top comment was by a girl who wrote what’s his @ i’m asking for a friend (i’m the friend).

“Afraid so,” he responds.

“I noticed you changed your profile picture on Instagram,” you say. It used to be his athletic headshot, but now his profile boasts an image of the two of you smiling outside of a café.

“Yeah,” he says plainly.

“Why?”

“What do you mean? Am I not cute in it?” he jokes.

“Zach,” you laugh. “Was it because girls were messaging you?”

His cheeks flush pink. He pulls out his phone and sets it in front of you.

“Yeah. I changed my picture so they know I have a girlfriend,” he says, gaze fluttering away. You know him so well. “And I didn’t message any of them back. You can check.”

“You’re so sweet,” you giggle. “I trust you, but I kind of want to look just out of curiosity to see what they’re saying.”

Sure enough, he has a few messages from pretty girls sitting in his inbox, some simple hi’s, others much more flirty.

“Can’t blame them,” you reply, sliding his phone back to his side of the table. “You’re hot.”

“Are you only in this for my looks?”

“I thought you knew that,” you say. “This is awkward now.”

Zach grins, bumping your knee again before sliding out of his side of the booth and settling beside you. You can smell his cologne, clean and gentle.

“Yeah, we’re the kind of couple that sits on the same side of the table, so what?” he mumbles, planting a kiss on your temple. You smirk, kneeling against his shoulder before sitting straight again.

“I’m sorry if that made you jealous, babe,” Zach says after a beat. At times, it’s hard to believe how sensitive he is. “I can ask them to take the photo down.”

“Oh,” you say with a laugh. He has a bit of a jealous streak stemming from insecurities, but you never felt it yourself, knowing how loyal he is. “I have a cute boyfriend. I can accept that it comes with a little competition sometimes.”

“There’s no competition,” he says resolutely, blue eyes hard on you. You squeeze his bicep and smile at him and he dips to kiss your fingers, right above the promise ring he gave you.

“You know that goes both ways, right?” you tell him softly. “You’ve ruined all other men for me, MacLaren.”

Your words send butterflies swirling in his stomach.

“Good thing we’ll be together forever then,” Zach says, a glint in his eyes.

“Good thing,” you agree.

#blurb #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren blurb

[twst-rose-prisms]

Twst boys and their respective Vocaloid songs

Part 2 of this post!

Characters: All NRC students Warning: Some of these songs contain angsty/dark themes or imply self-harm, however it's nothing too much as that's the nature of Vocaloid songs in general and I recommend you checking them out if you guys can!

Part 1 | Part 2

🕌 Scarabia 🕌

Kalim: Tondemo-Wonderz

This song is full of fun, excitement and upbeat, colorful beats that make you want to smile and dance along, just like the ball of sunshine Kalim he is! The song talks about embracing the unknown and excitement the world offers to us while also having fun, encouraging us to have faith in the wondrous possibilities, while also embracing the failure and mistakes with laughter and positivity. I’d say it’s a perfect song for Kalim, from the vibe to the lyrics!

“Even in this sort of era, We still believe in "wonders," no, no, no? Know! The adult's sharp, money-making memories Make us worry too much! I'm gonna go cross-eyed!” "Why?!" "Do it like this!!" I love everything! That's fine, isn’t it? In this plot to make everyone laugh I can call them rival monsters, right?! We live in a wild, awesome world.” “I reckon it's fine to have troubles you can't do a thing about! I make a pose like I'm gonna save everyone. How about this smile, it's not gonna crumble at all! Even if I fall 100 times, I'm like a phoenix. I won't get upset! Wan wan, too quick, three four! Everybody, showtime!” “Come on professor! This exam is so tough! Agh! Alright, done? Is it final? If I don't get 0 points, it's OK! Let's rain a shower of arrows on those true and false questions! Right and wrong answers are important memories." "There are days when I fail too. You still deny "wonders", no, no, no? Know! Before I'm taken to pieces, listen, wait! This slanted society is too on edge. Charge in, leap in, one more time! Are you ready?!”

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Jamil: Ghost City Tokyo

Like a ghost who is almost invisible to other’s eyes, Jamil used to do the same too, he always makes sure everything he does is at an average level so nobody will notice him. That’s why I picked this song for him, also because of the lyrics - he’s used to losing, to not be able to shine and stand out for the sake of others, and it’s not something he dreamt of at all. Also I think the city here can be interpreted as Scarabia too, because he still wants to be here despite everything that happened in Book 4.

“The lights of the brilliant shining city Shine down on me in stark contrast They mix with the neon colours changing and escaping from the spaces between those buildings" "I trade my time and this world And sink into the night” “It’s fine, someday it will all be fine How many days I’ve thought so, that have piled up on each other But even today, the me who fades into the Tokyo scenery all alone Seems like a ghost” “Even as I grow used to losing These important feelings that I haven't lost - When I held them close to myself, my tears fell suddenly Because I think I still want to Keep living in this city”

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👑 Pomefiore 👑

Vil: Cinema

This song is pretty self-explanatory with the lyrics, it’s like someone views their life as a movie, their story is like an unchanged script, yet they’re being satisfied with everything - they want to be the leading star, the protagonist of the movie. Being someone who always has to play the villain role, I picked this song for Vil because it just fits him so much with his backstory and his goal as a whole!

“A delusion of dawn Invaluable escapades and A misunderstood hero play-pretend Traffic's already jammed up now- Oh well, nothing I can do about that anyway” “No, it can't be this, not this. This is a bad fit for me I'm not suited for it- Should I quit it now, or— But that's not right, right! I wonder, when will I get to be The leading star of this show?” “We're not here yet, yet. This can't be the end, so If you're not suited for the role Then just rewrite the script! Look, for the most part, I'm sure it'll always just be me The leading star will only be me!” “The future I wanted to change has come. Whatever you like, however you like it, This is it. I made it here, all the way from the bottom. Just like a movie, this is my story.”

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Epel: Telecaster B-boy

A song talking about the struggle of growing up, trying to find one’s place in this vast world, the singer desires to be loved and appreciated but always gets misunderstood and underappreciated and also frustrated with society,  just like Epel himself. He hates being the stereotype, cliche thing. If you know his story and goal then this song is very fitting for him! Also the funky, youthful but somewhat fast beat and lyrics fit him very well too!

“The more I grow up DeDeDe The less I fit in, a vacant temple. The girl the life philosopher spoke to Turns into a bird … With just lip service PaPaPa I'll tie up my raggedy shoes … The boy whom a believer in digitization cursed Turns into wind …” “No matter how you look at it DeDeDe It's a stereo bias, sadistic The girl who sang like she was stung by a bee Turns into a flower... Even if you cover your ears PaPaPa Those guys' voices become loud The boy who got these words stabbed in his chest Turns back…” “In this world where I can't Even breathe for a bit Declaring a goodbye to reality Won't you just forgive us? We, the weak ones Let's meet up again somewhere”

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Rook: Liar Dance

Rook is a bit hard to find, but in my opinion this is the best song for him. It talks about a couple who both hide and lie to each other. But it also means that the singer’s POV is them knowing they’re a liar, a criminal just like other people. Rook himself is not an exception, he also lies and hides many things away even to his friends or someone like Vil. Also I think the lyrics fit him really well, with constant mention of love and lies many times throughout.

''Stolen? Just whatever do you mean?'' Feigning ignorance today as well Having made a vow, to you and you alone Declaring this loveless love of mine in front of you" "Stolen? Just whatever do you mean?" Committing myself to this performance, set lines and all Those memories we've desperately created and clung to, they blend together and feelings between us intensify” “Dance away liar This love has swelled up like a balloon let's turn it into a lie with the prick of a needle On the count of "I-love-you" “Dance away, liar It's too late to apologize We're already partners in this crime called "love" Who cares if there's no going back?”

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💀 Ignihyde 💀

Idia: All I Need are Things I Like

While there could be many other songs that fit Idia, I decided to pick this one because of the lyrics and overall meaning. The song talks about indulging solely into one’s interests and favorite thing everyday, almost every time without paying much attention to reality much at all. Even though the singer sounds happy and satisfied, they also sound lonely, deprived of energy and strength and also longing for actual companionship instead of coping up to the things that they like. It sounds like Idia himself after what happened to him and also his backstory!

"I don’t like weekdays, I like the weekend I don’t like work, I like going back to sleep It’s impossible to live on slacking like this My consciousness recedes" "I don’t like vegetables, I like hamburgers I don’t like barley tea, I like juice Don’t be sweet on me, but I like sweet tasting things My lifetime’s first page" "Only looking at things I like gradually my eyesight gets worse Only being filled with things I like gradually my mind gets duller" "I don’t like living things, I like machines I don’t like the real world, I like the virtual Your tastes were always biased deteriorating and ceasing to think" "Surrounded by the things I like I’ve become unforgiving to the things I don’t like Living only with the things I like I'm resented by someone, somewhere"

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Ortho: Near

This song is gentle, yet emotional and bittersweet, its meaning also fits Ortho and Idia + their relationship a lot if you take it into their backstory context too. At first, Ortho is just a robot that only acts according to how he was programmed but gradually, he starts acting outside his intended programming and learns his own sentience and emotions - just like the robot girl as the song progresses. Overall, I think this fits him a lot!

“Hey, Near. If I don't make fun of someone And if I won't be able to forgive myself How do you feel about This horrible person?" "Hey, Near. Watching other's strides Stepping out without a purpose How do you feel about this Dull person? Hey Near” “Hey, Near. I think living every day with a smile Is something natural How do you feel about This arrogant person?" "Things that do not take any form and cannot be predicted Will interfere with the calculation process" Even so" "Ah, I'll still continue to believe And ask you who doesn't have a heart Because your hand was So much warmer than mine”

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🐉 Diasomnia 🐉

Malleus: Hare wo Matsu

I feel like this song fits Malleus the most with how the lyrics constantly talk about one’s loneliness and about past’s memories. For Malleus, his biggest fear perhaps is his dearest, most cherished people leave his life, like Lilia - his guardian that raises him up ever since he’s still a little lizard or maybe even MC - his ever first friend that treats him so dearly despite his status or his fearful magic power unlike others who is afraid of him. Even the beat is also beautiful but sad, full of longing for your loved one when they leave - just like Malleus himself.

"I'm not getting tired of this morning, One that I've waited for. Very faintly, I'm laughing while appearing to be sorrowful, And wishing to completely forget you." "Because there's no end to this curse Of sleeplessness and the painful past. I'm singing a song in the morning glow, If only I could completely forget, it would end." "There's just one thing I can't yield, And still, without knowing the reason, I live, even now..." "Since I don't have a dream I want to protect, These are days with no answer, But that isn't kindness, isn't it?" "Look, since absolutely nothing hurts, It's alright," I say. Someday, when you'll be gone, ah~ Will I be living alone?”

-----------------------------------

Lilia: Kanade Tomosu Sora 

I feel like this song fits Lilia the most in terms of the vibe, the lyrics that matched well with his backstory. This song, while sad, full of longing and reminiscent from the past yet it’s like a glimmer of hope somewhere in the deep, dark sea of sad memories. Lilia was the same too despite how we see him acting outwardly. He gives love to others, but he also needs love and hope. He went through events that could crush him easily and yet, he still stayed strong - for a whole 200+ years, for the sake of others. (I recommend checking out the 25ji, Night Code de version too!)

“Every time I trace back my memories, I feel as if I’m going to be crushed, yet Since I have no place to take refuge,  I just keep questioning myself over and over. Ah…” “There are too many things in my way,  It’s as if there are only things I can’t see Is it alright if I try touching it a little? I want to say it. Even though it might surely be impossible, I want to somehow. Hey, more; hey, more; I want to see more” “So I can turn the images I’ve found of your world still unknown to me Into song" "Blaming myself all this time,  I simply live and breathe but only just barely I’ve always shut it away in a cage I’m not asking for a plain, simple story. I simply wish to hear your voice” “It still hurts. Words keep tightening the cord round my neck, but... These eyes of mine I closed so gently as well, still hurt a little, but… I want to say it. Even though now, I still don’t know when it’ll be but someday for sure. Hey, more; hey, more; I want to see more”

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Silver: Ice Drop

I think this song fits Silver a lot mostly because of the lyrics, and the deep sea could symbolize the dreams that he dives into in Book 7. Although it’s upbeat, the lyrics are full of longing and reminiscing of the past and also his father, but eventually move on and “grow up” from it.  Not to mention, you could even take it as a SilverMC song if you think about that aspect! But even if it's not in a romantic sense, it's still a song talking about how much the past affects us and how we long for our loved one even if it's just a memory, that's why to me this song is really for Silver!

“Even the memories of the past are merely a thousand-year tale I take a deep breath as I fall into the deep sea” “Uh- that voice of yours drenches my whole heart Tangled up and captivated by each other, we sing our unchanging love once more You, not letting go of your hands become a rule of mine It's a heart that will melt away the rusted last page That one and only magic will turn this world around” “I’ll be waiting. Inside my dream, I reach out my hand” “Uh- On this planet, I fell in love without sleeping I longed for you and hesitated what to do, but from now on, I'll grow up You, If it’s with you, I’ll dive in without hesitation”

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Sebek: Kashika

Sebek was the hardest to find for me in the entire list mainly because while he has his own character, he doesn’t have too much depth but I tried my best and I think this song fits him the most! This song is powerful, full of willpower and hope towards tomorrow despite the hard, tough times. The song encourages us to keep living, even in the most uncertain moments, you need to cherish each moment of your life as well your living heartbeat, which represents the tenacity and perseverance of life. I feel like the energy as well the meaning of the song fits Sebek a lot overall for his character - with the desire to rise, stand up and protect he always have.

“When my quivering voice breathed life into a song, It was then I realized, That was the first time my breath could be seen. They say that in the end, the value of music is subjective– Well then, I'll sing as I please, I'll show you the message I want to convey. I won't despair over Or be afraid of my mistakes. They say to "live the right way," But I want to fight against that. My whole life has consisted of "it's my fault." Even if I'm treated like a fool, I'll be hurt and I'll hurt others, I'll live, causing both kindness and injury. The present I see is everything to me, So I don't want to cling onto ideals of the past or the future. Beat, beat, o heart of mine! It might be unsteady, but even so, this is my pulse.”

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#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #vocaloid #vocaloid music #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #silver twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt

[blueinkjpeg]

Listen to me ramble about traveler ships bc they’re silly!!

Albedo

Both Albedo and the Traveler have a scientific curiosity about the world and how it works. They’re also curious about humans. While Traveler finds enjoyment out of living among them, Albedo prefers studying them from a distance.

This also transcends into curiosity about each other, since they’re both different kinds of immortal ageless entities, they intrigue each other. (Albedo talks about wanting to “study” the Traveler.) They feel a sort of kinship for each other, as they’re both not really of Teyvat. Because of this, Albedo only trusts the Traveler to stop him if he should lose control one day and destroy Mondstat. He also talks about trusting the Traveler around his experiments, and having faith in their “exceptional talents.”

About us, Assistant: Would you oblige me by serving as my assistant? After observing so many experiments, you surely know a good deal about alchemy by now. Relax, we will work together. I don't think you will have any problems. I have faith in my ability to instruct you, and even more faith in your exceptional talents.

Ascension 2: Albedo is the step in which change begins. Clearing away the excess so we can take on all the knowledge that is available. Would you like to investigate this world with me?

Ascension 3: Rubedo in alchemy refers to the refining of feeling. I feel the refining of my own emotions is also thanks to you.

Is there anything else you're interested in?

Albedo: Hmm, anything else...?

Albedo: Probably you.

Albedo: At first, it was because you carry the aura of the stars.

Albedo: But now... it seems that there is more to it.

Albedo: Why is this? Give me some time and I can conduct experiments to find out.

Is there anything you'd like to do?

Albedo: Heh, where should I begin...?

Albedo: In your company, I never lack inspiration.

For drawing?

For experiments?

Albedo: It's good for both drawing and experiments.

Albedo: And not just for these, but for many other things.

Albedo: Speaking of which... I used to think interaction with others was a waste of time.

Albedo: But after meeting you, I'd rather spend my time on you than other matters.

Albedo: This is a unique anomaly. I think I likely know the reason why.

Albedo: So can you also... give me more of your time?

Xiao

Xiao has been cursed with bad karma, while the Traveler has purifying abilities. Xiao talks about how being around them makes him calmer somehow. Maybe because of these purifying abilities, more likely because the Traveler is so universally warm and friendly. Two immortal beings, Xiao has spent his long life tied to his nation while the Traveler has been almost everywhere.

While Xiao has a rough exterior, he is actually curious about humanity and has a great love for them, something Traveler understands and shares. He’s just weary of his karmic debt and history of violence bringing the Liyuan people bad luck, or preventing him from fitting in should be mingle among them. The Traveler likewise does not fit in, but is still beloved. And so, Xiao has expressed that he would be willing to attempt going to Liyue Harbor to learn about the people if the Traveler accompanied him. It’s likely Xiao admires Traveler for their pursuit of understanding Teyvat and its people— something Xiao is naturally bad at— and they make him feel comfortable to pursue it as well.

Xiao has sworn to come whenever the Traveler calls his name. He seems notably protective of Traveler, more so than other characters, maybe feeling a kinship for both being so inhuman. Either way, voice lines imply he is guarded because he assumes his karma will poison Traveler, and he doesn’t want to hurt them. Despite this guarded roughness, Traveler rightly characterized him as a deeply caring individual, seeing Xiao to the core of who he is, and treats him as such.

Also, Traveler has shown to be dedicated to becoming someone Xiao can trust and relax around. In some of Xiao’s voice lines, it’s implied that Traveler has been trying to come up with ways to help soothe Xiao’s pain.

They have a tradition of releasing Xiao Lanterns during Lanturn Rite. Xiao has given the Traveler crystalflies for their hair for his own birthday, and has talked about how since knowing the Traveler, Xiao has been blessed with sweet peaceful dreams of the two of them going on strolls, wondering if he deserves something so nice.

In a poetry event, the Traveler has created poetry to show their admiration towards Xiao for his endless watch over Liyue. Maybe Traveler admires it because they’ve never had such devotion over something for so long, and Xiao admires Traveler for the opposite reason, and for being brave.

About Shenhe: It seems Shenhe places a great deal of trust in you. Well, how could she not. There are few people in the world as kind and good-natured as you.

More about Xiao V: It's too late. The connection between us is too strong. Even if you wanted to, it's too late to sever it. Hm? You've never thought to sever it? *sigh* This eternal dance of demon subjugation... My fight goes on. But I would like to know more about you.

Ascension: Countless souls have fallen prey to these hands. I too have been swallowed by the darkness — and yet you dare to drive me on. You may think of me as... your companion. You seek to find me salvation? ...You... really are a difficult being to comprehend.

Xiao: ...I don't know if it's related to you, but recently, the pain from my karmic debt has been less excruciating.

Xiao: It's much easier to bear than before.

Xiao: If you have free time, we can go to Liyue Harbor together...

Xiao: If not... never mind.

Of course we can.

Xiao: Uh... alright.

Finally decided to integrate into city life?

Xiao: Ahem...

Xiao: I have no intention of getting close to the lives of mortals.

Xiao: But I know that you often enter and leave the city, walking amidst the crowd.

Xiao: The stories of these times, or their joys... If I don't experience such things myself, it'll be hard to understand your thoughts.

So... you're doing this for me?

Xiao: Yes, to understand you.

Xiao: I had a feeling that it would be difficult, but after having such thoughts, I can't simply sit back and do nothing.

Xiao: I will control myself while I am in the city.

Xiao: I'll try to speak... as little as possible.

I'll be with you.

You can say whatever you want. I'll bail you out.

Xiao: Hmm...

Xiao: Let me know when you're ready to go.

Ayaka

Ayaka’s character story 5: “Ayaka is still waiting for a friend to emerge who can walk alongside her on equal footing and stand by her side. That person cannot see her as a member of the Yashiro Commission, or as the Shirasagi Himegimi, nor will their conduct towards her be bound by decorum or status. And if possible, they might also be well-versed in a great many fields of study, and have witnessed all manner of interesting things... and perhaps they might even be able to tell her a story in a pinch. Only such a person might become Ayaka's bosom friend.”

The Traveler is Ayaka’s ideal companion, the exact kind of person she has been waiting for, possibly the only person who truly has the ability to understand her outside of Inazuman society’s perception of her. She finds Traveler interesting and exciting, a stark difference from her everyday life.

When they first met, the Traveler was disillusioned in their travels after briefly reuniting with their sibling, who dismissed them. Ayaka makes the effort to show them and remind them why they began their travels in the first place; the world and humanity is complex and interesting and beautiful, and it’s a worthwhile endeavor to understand and protect them. Ayaka regularly reminds the Traveler of this by being complex and interesting and beautiful herself. Traveler then goes to great lengths to protect Ayaka’s people, because they understand why they’re important to her.

Ayaka is trapped in Inazuma, while the Traveler has been all over the world. Things that Ayaka has seen a million times are new and wonderful to the Traveler, showing these things in a new light to Ayaka. It makes Ayaka feel like a “regular girl,” something she wishes she could be more often. The Traveler is shown to feel most comfortable with Ayaka and her family while in Inazuma. They both understand what it’s like to feel distant from a sibling.

Good Morning: Oh, good morning, Traveler. ...Whenever I see you in the morning, somehow, it makes me feel like... today is going to be a good day.

Aspiration: Today, as in the past, I aspire to be somebody whom everyone can trust. But what motivates me is no longer the responsibilities I shoulder, or the expectations of other people. Rather, it is the fact that you are this kind of person, too.

More about Kamisato Ayaka V: […] unless I am mistaken, I trust that you will not take issue with this slight departure from convention on my part… That is to say... I'm a little tired, may I rest my head on your shoulder? Just for a moment.

Desires: […] But even so, shouldn't I still follow my dreams? Shouldn't I... share my true feelings with you?

Ascension: Our time together has been so pleasant that I am fearful of losing what I have gained. I'm sorry, I must compose myself.

Kamisato Ayaka: At least, that's a romantic way of approaching this topic [poetry].

I feel the same way.

Kamisato Ayaka: More importantly... I hope that, between the two of us, we need not be concerned with our identities...

Kamisato Ayaka: I'll just think of you as... my closest confidant.

Kamisato Ayaka: Being able to enjoy tea with my closest confidant — it feels like I'm in a dream...

(Closest confidant...)

Kamisato Ayaka: ...

Kamisato Ayaka: Can I... Hold your hand?

Wanderer

The Traveler and the Wanderer are both parallels and ideological foils. They have both been betrayed and abandoned by family and loved ones, doomed to travel and wander the world in order to understand it better because of that.

But the Wanderer has learned humanity’s cruelty during these travels, mostly in the Fatui. He believes humans to be cruel and self-serving, and so he acts that way too. And as an immortal, doesn’t understand the importance of a limited life, clutching onto his grief and anger in a means to cope with what he cannot control.

Meanwhile, the Traveler has learned the beauty of humanity during their travels. They believe in the inherent goodness in everyone, and so they act that way. Curious and sensitive, like Wanderer before his three betrayals, even though Traveler has arguably been through just as much hardship as Wanderer (which may be a reason Wanderer held contempt for Traveler in the past). This belief is what led them to not kill the Wanderer when they defeated him in battle.

Their ideologies are in direct conflict. The Traveler’s ideology has led them to getting hurt often, while the Wanderer’s ideology has led him to being isolated. They have a lot to learn from one another.

AND, with the Wanderer having erased himself from everyone’s memory except the Traveler, the Traveler now is the only person to know the real Wanderer. They know all the evil Wanderer has done, (led to the death of Teppi which Traveler was famously angry about, tried to kill Nahida, etc) and is still his friend. Wanderer is perplexed by this, often expressing it in voicelines. But this means Traveler knows him the most, they own part of his identity as well, as Wander has allowed them to give him a new name. A new name that he has not let anyone use except the Traveler, preferring to go by “Hat Guy” in the Akademia.

While still being weary of him, the Traveler can’t help but seek Wanderer’s presence because they enjoy learning about his vastly differing perspectives on life. The Wanderer respects them because of their vast strength and knowledge.

About us, Rivals: So, you're still stewing over our run-ins from before? Huh. Well, what are you going to do about it? Take your time. I'm in no hurry.

(“Oooo you wanna kiss me so bad ooooo I’m in your head”)

About us, Collaborators: I'll never be one of the good guys. I'm just here to pay my dues after what you've done for me. But what about you? Shouldn't you come up with some excuse for our meetings? If one of your friends mistakes you for collaborating with the enemy, you're on your own.

(He makes the same excuses to be around Nahida, though his lore explains he does truly admire her. Just saying.)

About Damselette: Let me ask: what should you do if you were to encounter a "damsel" who is oblivious and innocent at any given time, and unconcerned and unfeeling in any given situation? If it were me, I could at least challenge her to a fight. But if it were you... with your conscience, I would stay away from her.

(He’s calling Traveler kind-hearted, calling out their optimistic ideology, and warding them away from danger with his more grounded/pessimistic ideology.)

Birthday: Give me your hand. Heh, there's no need to be nervous. I'm just taking you to a vantage point. How is it? The scenery here should be quite breathtaking. There's no need to thank me — I see little point in it.

(Wanderer): Thank you for trying to look out for me. Go get some rest.

Jeht

Through the Golden Slumber world quest, it’s made very clear that the NPC Jeht is significantly [romantically] closer to the female Traveler Lumine. In the quest, they travel together for a time and become close. In a moment of crisis involving the Fatui, Jeht is ordered to kill Lumine, but refuses out of affection for her. She takes the punishment instead, and is offered to a Fatui scientist for experiments by her tribe. Jeht was told it was Lumine that betrayed her, and Lumine was told Jeht had betrayed the tribe, but neither of them chose to believe something bad about the other.

At the end of it all, Jeht chooses to fight by Lumine’s side over her other friends. Inspired by Lumine, Jeht decides to go on her own journey. Their goodbye is tearful.

Lyney

Lyney has only known the Traveler for a short time, but they already have a checkered history. The Traveler trusts Lyney and his sister immediately after meeting them, hangs out with him for a few days, and defends him in murder trial. Only for it to be revealed Lyney was part of the Fatui, who the Traveler has an even worse history with, having killed their friends and put Traveler and their companions in mortal peril many times.

Lyney offers an apology and some of the truth, but the Traveler is still cold with him and brushes him off, believing themselves to be betrayed (and likely influenced by mixed feelings of seeing such close twins). Despite openly admitting to having difficulty with opening up, Lyney makes the effort to be open and truthful with the Traveler during his story quest, rebuilding trust between them. Lyney puts in extra effort to be honest, because he truly wants the Traveler to like him. He gives the Traveler a rainbow rose by the end of it, which even his sister marks as odd, because it represents passion and romantic love in Fontaine. His sister asks the Traveler to “protect that flower for her,” likely alluding to Lyney.

The Traveler trusts him after this enough to include him in the main quest again. Lyney remarks multiple times about how he feels close with the Traveler, how he enjoys talking with them, how the Traveler’s eyes shine like topaz and Lyney could never lie to such beauty.

In Arlecchino's story quest, he’s implied to have talked in detail about the Traveler to his other siblings, and is eager for the Traveler to like them. He is hesitant to involve the Traveler in family business, wanting to keep them safe and saying he will protect the Traveler with his life. The Traveler similarly shows the desire to protect Lyney, stepping in between him and his Father during conflict.

They resonate with one another concerning their twin siblings. Lyney having almost lost Lynette, and the Traveler being separated from their sibling. For the Traveler, this grew from jealousy to admiration, as they see Lyney caring so greatly for his family, a trait Traveler shares. Traveler understands and respects Lynsey’s loyalty to his (fatui) family, and would not be surprised if and when that loyalty drives them apart.

While they are close now after much effort rebuilding trust, they are both silently aware their friendship has an expiration date. Traveler’s goals contradict the Fatui. And with Lyney declaring his loyalty to the Knave as her successor, and this mysterious Fatui scheme the House of the Hearth have been roped into, they both know it’s just a matter of time before circumstance sees them on opposing sides of the battlefield. Though it remains unaddressed for now as they try to enjoy the time they have left together.

Hello: […] Well... Hmm, your eyes are like topaz, precious, pure, and lovely. I like them!

When it snows: Achoo! Phew... I've heard some say that when you sneeze, it means that someone's thinking about you. Is it Lynette, I wonder? Or... is it you?

Good Morning: C'mon, just five more minutes... Huh? Oh! It's you! I thought it was the radiance of the sunlight on my skin that I felt — turns out it was your radiance all along!

About Lyney, sweet talker: I should probably emphasize again that I'm rarely so open with anyone — I guess it's because you're not just anyone.

More about Lyney I: It seems we're both keenly interested in each other. Well, know that the honor is mine! Haha, relax. I couldn't ever tell lies to your mesmerizing eyes — not even if I tried!

More about Lyney V: […] Sometimes I think people would feel sorry for the real me. Do you? *sigh* Or do you find my little games absurd?

(Awwe he cares about what Traveler thinks.)

Ascension: Doing all this for me... Are you trying to steal this magician's heart, by any chance? Well, in that case, congratulations, my dear apprentice — or should I say, "companion." For you have succeeded!

Lyney: It's almost impossible for me to lie to your face... Maybe it's because I can't bear to see that hurt expression of yours.

Lyney: Say, why don’t you look at my hat? Do you see anything different about it?

Huh... Don't think there's any difference.

Lyney: Ah, but that just means you need to look at it more carefully! Just come a bit closer.

Well, alright then.

Lyney: […] No, the whole thing was misdirection.

Lyney: I just played a little trick, and stole something of yours. And after that, I also slipped a card into your bag.

Lyney: Now, can you guess what I stole from you?

My heart?

Lyney: A most unexpected answer! I have to say, even my heart has begun to race too.

Lyney: What I actually stole, however, was your "attention." Even though it's not nearly as valuable as your heart, it's still very important to us magicians nonetheless!

My... attention?

Lyney: Bingo! Congratulations, that was the right answer.

Lyney: […] Anyway, I just want to find a warm, free, and peaceful home for all of my animal assistants.

Lyney: A place where they'll always enjoy care and being lovingly looked after, with no need to worry about food or shelter...

Lyney: To be perfectly honest with you, this [Traveler’s teapot home] is by far the best choice for them that I know of... but I wouldn't want you to feel pressured to take them in, or to persuade you using honeyed words.

Lyney: Good morning, (Traveler)!

Lyney: It would be great if I could see you every morning.

#long post #genshin impact #aether #lumine #all these work with Lumine too I just like drawing Aether more #albedo #Xiao #scaramouche #kamisato ayaka #genshin jeht #lyney #albether #xiaother #scaraether #scaralumi #ayalumi #ayaether #for fun #sorry Jeht I haven’t played your quests I’ve heard good things about you #albelumi #xiaolumi #ayather

[jgracie]

wait u are a genius and i want a full explanation of ur analysis on the florida lyrics w jason

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ FLORIDA!!! + JASON GRACE — AN ANALYSIS BY CYNTHIA

masterlist | rules

on the radio . . . florida!!! (taylor swift ft. florence + the machine)

an THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR ENABLING THIS. jason might be a little ooc in this but that's just me looking deeper into his character (something mr rick riordan failed to do). also obvs im not doing lyrics that repeat twice both times LOL also sorry if this is bad these r all off the top of my head

you can beat the heat if you beat the charges too they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true

there are many possible meanings for the first line but im choosing to interpret it like this - you can escape their criticism if you prove them wrong. this, to me, is similar to when jason came back to camp jupiter. when leo (unwillingly) fired against camp jupiter, the romans immediately began attacking. instead of fighting them himself, jason begs them to listen to him and tells them he's on their side (thus trying to beat the charges of being a traitor)

however, it didn't work and he ended up getting a brick thrown at him and passing out - "they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true" - while taylor's saying cheat as in a cheater (romantic relationships), for jason this refers to the emotional cheating he did on camp jupiter. sure, he didn't want his memory wiped and to be placed in a whole new camp with the greeks, but he liked it, so in a way he did cheat

and my friends all smell like weed or little babies and this city reeks of driving myself crazy

we all know jason never fit in in camp jupiter. even in his pre-memory loss days, he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb (despite also being their golden child and the son of the camp's namesake). when he comes back to camp jupiter, jason feels even more left out - his friends are all either stuck in the past and incapable of growing and developing ("all smell like weed") or have moved on an extraordinary amount which he cannot keep up with ("or little babies")

as i said above, jason didn't fully merge with his fellow romans. a primary example of this is the fact that he willingly joined the fifth cohort simply to improve it, and im pretty sure he says somewhere he's always been a little more rebellious than the average roman. it also took him a lot of effort to become praetor. coming back to camp jupiter probably brought back all the judgement and criticism he received from the romans - "and this city reeks of driving myself crazy". the verb "reeks" also implies a bad smell, not a good one, so the memories are not a good kind of nostalgia

little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in so you work your life away just to pay for a time-share down in destin

okay so the first part - "little did you know your home's really only / a town you're just a guest in" - again, emphasises how alone and solitary jason feels in camp jupiter. however, i'd like to bring up the fact that percy became praetor within a week (? if not less) of arriving at camp jupiter. praetor is a position which jason grovelled for for ages, only for some random greek guy to be able to replace him after one single quest. why? well, that's simply because the romans saw him as a guest, not a resident of camp or new rome - someone who is temporary and will leave to go somewhere else eventually

jason has been a member of camp jupiter since he was two. he was quite literally working his life away, work is all he ever knew since his childhood was robbed from him so quickly. he worked so hard just to become praetor and so he could make a change and maybe finally fit in with his fellow romans. however, he simply ended up with a timeshare - which (according to google) is "shared ownership of vacation property" - he and percy practically shared the position of praetor, and both saw camp jupiter as somewhere temporary (although jason realised that later on), just like how a vacation home isn't the place you're going to stay in forever

florida is one hell of a drug florida can i use you up?

for jason, florida is camp half-blood. while camp jupiter is orderly and constantly forces him into tight lines, camp half-blood allows him to express himself for who he really is and makes him feel as if he were on cloud nine (similar to how a drug makes you feel when you're high)

however, jason is still hesitant to fully commit to camp half-blood. after all, his father is jupiter, not zeus. could he really be a part of the greeks, or will they see him as foreign too? ("can i use you up?")

the hurricane with my name when it came i got drunk and i dared it to wash me away

in the song, florence welch is referencing hurricane florence, which caused major damage in south-east of the US. since jason is the son of the god of winds and sky, in a way, all hurricanes have his name since they're all semi-controlled by his father - hurricanes run in his blood. he probably sees himself as the hurricane, causing damage to both others and himself. he most likely feels like the piece of domino which started the chain of disasters he and his friends faced, since his arrival at camp half-blood is what began the second great prophecy (for them)

i'm choosing to interpret "i got drunk" as jason changing once he got introduced to the life and culture of greek demigods. he was no longer perfect, proper praetor jason grace. although it (naturally) took him some time, he became wild and carefree like them, similar to how a drunk person may act. this also ties in with the idea of camp half-blood being like a drug to him. everything about it is addictive, the more he gets, the more he wants

barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine

the bottle of wine here is a symbol for camp half-blood. when jason feels unsafe, he chooses the greek camp over the roman to keep him company.

also, this lyric is reminiscent of the great war - "i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone" - in which taylor swift isolates herself from everyone else and dwells on the end of her relationship with her ex, which in turn makes her believe they were the bad one in the relationship. similarly, jason is often depicted as thinking about his days at camp jupiter (the few memories he can recall, at least) and from what i can remember it's never really fond. the more he thinks about it, the less camp jupiter feels like home. this reaches a climax in house of hades when he speaks to the god of the southern winds and realises he wants to stay at camp half-blood - he drank his poison and killed any tie he had with camp jupiter

well, me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine

i think this is pretty self explanatory. growing up in the harsh environment of camp jupiter, jason has killed and witnessed death to the point where he seems desensitised to it. however, jason is soft on the inside. he puts up a facade when he's praetor jason grace, not letting anyone else see how much this affected him - "yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine"

and your cheating husband disappeared, well no one asks any questions here

i feel like this is him talking to reyna directly (real ones know i am the biggest jeyna shipper so obviously i had to bring them up LMAO). since praetors often end up being in romantic relationships, jason was probably seen by a lot of romans (especially the more traditional ones) as reyna's husband, despite them never even dating

you can sense a bit of snark here as well with "no one asks any questions here" - again, i bring up the fact that the romans were incredibly quick to accept jason's betrayal of camp jupiter, even though he didn't, and reyna siding with them (even though she knows its not true)

a cheating husband is also mentioned in fortnight ("my husband is cheating / i wanna kill him") which i believe is reyna's song but that's a story for another day

so i did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body and in my mind, they sink into the swamp is that a bad thing to say in a song?

this is the turning point - the scene in hoh where jason makes the choice between camp jupiter and camp half-blood. he lets go of his past and everyone he knew pre-memory loss ("so i did my best to lay to rest / all of the bodies that have ever been on my body"). please keep the line "i did my best" in mind, as healing isn't a linear process and obviously there were some days where jason wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were

a swamp is described as 'uncultivated', meaning you can't grow any plants in it. similarly, his relationships with the romans will never grow back as "they sink into the swamp"

"is that a bad thing to say in a song?" PURE SASS. he's mocking the ideals of romans but for once doing it without fear. he's saying sure, it might be, but do i care? no 🥰

little did you know your home's really only the town you'll get arrested so you pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in texas

this is once again referencing the fact that jason was exiled from camp jupiter after his 'betrayal', even though he should be the first person they trust in a confusing time like this - discovering there are whole other counterparts of the Gods they know and love. not only because he's praetor (reyna is praetor too, after all), but because he's been at camp for the majority of his life

i need to forget, so take me to florida i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida tell me im despicable, say it's unforgivable at least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up florida

again, pretty self explanatory considering the themes of drugs and alcohol i've mentioned above. jason wants to forget (haha very funny cynthia you all say in unison) anything and everything to do with camp jupiter and roman culture, so naturally, he runs to their antithesis - camp half-blood. i like to think if you played a song in his head while he was choosing between cj and chb it'd be this banger of a bridge

however, he still feels guilty. after all, loyalty is a very serious thing for romans. i think reyna tells annabeth something about how if you swear on your life and break that swear, the romans won't hesitate to actually kill you. no matter how much jason tries to pull away from roman culture, some things (like the loyalty) simply run in his blood - "tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable" he wants to be held accountable by anyone, even though he knows his friends on the argo ii are the last people who'd judge him

"fuck me up florida" is jason completely succumbing to everything greek. we all know how the romans look down at greeks (prime examples being the ghosts calling percy graecus as an insult when he arrives and octavian immediately assuming the worst when the argo ii arrived). to the romans, the greeks are lousy and messy, everything they don't want to be. jason has always been this way deep down. he's willing to let the greeks completely fuck him up

love left me like this and i don't want to exist so take me to florida

love has constantly been bringing jason down. he has a big heart and yet he's lacking so much luck in that department. his relationship with reyna was completely destroyed the moment hera took his memory and put him on that wilderness school bus, and he and piper's relationship has always been awkward, ending in them breaking up and dating someone else while he was left truly alone

here, i don't think chb is florida. however, i don't want to say its elysium because that hurts. so lets just say its a magical place where everything is perfect and he can escape

(take me to) florida

i chose this specific one for the (take me to) bit, which sounds exactly like the "take me to" in the lakes - "take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die"

i don't remember if this was ever mentioned/implied anywhere in the books or if it's something my brain came up with and i accepted as canon, but jason is definitely the type of person who romanticises things he shouldn't. the lakes is one of the the most romantic places in england and is a commonly used date spot

here, jason wants nothing more than to just die peacefully (he is the poet) than have to endure any more pain and misery. what better place to die than in his florida? (i read somewhere that he was buried in cj and nothing makes me wanna kill myself more LMAO)

#jason grace #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #jason heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo #jason hoo #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #florida!!! #cynwrites

[greenerteacups]

I'm on my nth re-read of books 1-4, and I keep finding new things to be delighted by, on top of the old reliable lines that make me giggle every time. Like in book 4:

“Yeah,” said Harry, whose success had overdosed him with optimism. “Hey, think about this: you reckon I can just Banish the water and walk down?”

“Oh, bless, he thinks he’s Moses.”

How does (presumably pagan-ish or non-religious based on holiday celebrations) Draco know about Moses? Does he think Moses is a wizard??? I mean... he DID accomplish several miracles with a big stick. Any of the implications here make me cackle

Oh this is awesome, I've been wanting to talk about this for ages: I think wizards know what the Bible is! And Christianity, and Judaism and Islam, and I think there are practicing members of all of those religions (and more!) in the Wizarding World. Here's why.

The Bible (Old Testament specifically — Draco's references lean towards the OT because that's the broader cultural referent, it's the common glue of the Bible/Quran/Torah and if wizards know any Abrahamic text, it's that) is a huge, ubiquitous, world-shaping cultural text that was thousands of years old before the International Statute of Secrecy. The date of 1692 for the SOS means that any muggle culture before the 17th century is fair game, even if it's not accepted by wizards. So that's why I think atheist/agnostic/pagan wizards should still have at least referential familiarity with it.

The fact that wizards celebrate Christmas (NOT Yule, although obviously in Lionheart they do both) tells me that there is at least vestigial religious belief in the population. Expressions like "Merlin" in place of "God" tells me that wizards probably have a different relationship with it — Merlin's generally treated as a kind of prophet? — which is giving "splinter sect of Christianity defined by the emergence of Merlin as a separate prophet for wizards," but I'm not gonna spiral too far into that headcanon, because this is a lore analysis post. But that's my working idea, here.

The first-order response to the "what about magic?" problem is: Not everything that happens in the Bible can be explained by the Harry Potter magic system. Water into wine, sure. Resurrection? Impossible, as far as 99% of wizards know. Harry Potter is the only person we know of to be fully resurrected, and even he's never technically full-dead. Moses parting the Red Sea? I mean, we can imagine spells that would do it, but think about how much water is in the fucking sea! We don't see anything of nearly that scope happen in the series. And what about manna? We know for a fact that you can't use magic to make food!

But let's sidebar that, and drill down on what you can explain. Water into wine. Curing the sick. Okay, cool. There's still a big difference between "established in-universe ability that has been ritualized and turned into technology" and "literal miracles." Walk on water? Sure, you could probably perform a spell for that. But does Jesus? Do we know, for a fact, that he had a wand, or that he cast a spell? Had the spell for that been invented yet? Are you even sure he was a wizard? Can we prove it? Moreover, would it matter?

This leads me to my bigger point about the nature of religious belief: if you believe the dude's divine, having magic doesn't change anything, right? Because he's still the son of God. Christians don't believe Jesus was divine because he performed the miracles; they believe he was divine and so performed the miracles. There are many different IRL-theological stances on how much of the supernatural stuff in the Bible "actually happened," and you can be a skeptic about the scientific facets while still subscribing to its broader philosophical and religious claims about God.

Even if you take Jesus and other Abrahamic characters out of the question, there's still a place for religion in wizarding society, because of the afterlife. With the exception of ghosts (who by their account have never been fully "dead," and so don't know it) and inferi, the relation between the wizarding world and the afterlife is a one-way conduit. That means there's still plenty of room for wizards to adopt religious beliefs specifically about the afterlife, and religion would still play a social role in defining how people approached those topics.

Finally, the pagan elements of the Harry Potter series read less to me as an espousal of sincere religious conviction and more as a ritualistic vestige of prehistorical magical practices. Since the universe's magic draws heavily on pagan ceremonies — especially in the realm of potions/herbology/magical creatures — ironically, I can't imagine paganism as a religion in the universe of Harry Potter. Like, it's just straight-up true! It would be like starting a religion around meteorology, or chemistry. There's no element of mystery or divinity involved for faith and belief to fill in the gaps; you know how magic works, and you can be good at it.

What JKR did with the magic system — apparently on accident — was to textually validate huge volumes of pagan practice without invoking any of the associated spiritual or religious beliefs. And since we live for seven years in the mind of a competent, practicing wizard who does tons of magic without seeming to believe in any particular god at all, I have to infer that you don't need to. Rowling has, again, likely not on purpose, built a universe whose central conceit is: "what if the pagans were just straight-up right?" and revealed the answer to be: "well, then it wouldn't be paganism anymore."

#greenteacup asks #harry potter