#Make sure to eat and take breaks when needed
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i'm such a big fan of laios using being well fed as proof that he's serious. like there's so many techbros & etc who will use not eating breakfast as proof that they're productive & just in general, the idea of being "too busy to eat" is getting more common (which is exactly what toshiro is doing here!) but laios is like. no. i'm so serious about this i'm thinking about what comes next. i'm so serious about this i'm making sure my body can do everything it can when i need it.
the fact that everyone in the party took care of themselves & carefully planned out their route & when they'd take breaks is what made them so successful. they always made sure to understand their limits
#aster speaks#dungeon meshi#also like. bc it was careful it was so much stronger than toshiros mindless devotion#bc they were able to think it thru w a clear head#or something. idk
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accident┆m.sturniolo
summary - matt accidentally does the knee thing while the two of you are making out <3
pairing - matthew sturniolo x female reader
cw - suggestive, making out, mentions of sex, implied sex, humiliation, teasing, grinding, pet names, lowercase intended
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you paid no mind to the tightness of matt’s grip on your hips as he leaned above you, pressing your body further into the mattress beneath you.
you supported your weight by reclining on your elbows as you laid against his silk sheets, letting him rest in between your legs.
both your tongues lazily danced against each other as he cupped your cheeks, pulling your face implausibly closer to his.
your legs subconsciously widened as the kiss deepened, both of you being too lost in the moment to care how your bodies motioned.
you felt matt smile into the kiss, a reaction caused by the moan that escaped your lips. it wasn’t your fault though, it was his. it was because the nights you would return home from work would always end like this; the two of you down each other’s throats before he fucks you stupid. it wasn’t your fault you needed him.
in an attempt to be impossibly closer to you, matt moves his body further against yours, causing his knee to press against your clothed cunt.
at the sudden rush of pleasure, you cut the kiss short with a moan, your head turning to break the intimate moment.
immediately, matt turns your head in order for you to keep your eyes on him.
‘baby?’ worry laced his tone as he saw your state, eyes glossy and cheeks flushed.
‘are you okay?’ poor boy, he wasn’t aware of the fact that he was the reason for your sudden recoil. in an act of concern, he moves closer once again, resulting in his knee pressing harder against your pussy.
your face scrunches at the throb from your core, trying to avoid his gaze once again.
it didn’t take him long to realise, not when he looked down to see what was causing you to react like this. the confusion was quick to leave his face. instead, it was replaced with a shit-eating grin.
‘oh, honey…’ he coos, purposely pressing his knee harder as he rests his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses meeting. ‘is that too much for you?’
his tone is infused with faux concern as he pouts down at you, mocking your expression.
he giggles at the way you nod your head dumbly, your mind already too hazy for you to respond properly.
‘poor girl.’ he mutters, his fingers finding their way to your face once again. ‘if you can’t handle this, how will you take what m’ gonna give you after?’ he questions you as two of his fingers tap the side of your face expectantly.
‘i- i can take it!’
his brows furrow at the way you huff angrily, crossing your arms. ‘yeah? you sure, baby?’
‘mhm!’ your pout returns to your kiss swollen lips as your hips roll downwards onto his knee, your cunt receiving the exact stimulation that makes your mouth water.
he smiles at your action, his hands trailing from your face to your hips, clasping onto them as he helps you grind down onto his knee. ‘oh, look at you.’ he murmurs, eyes clouding with lust at the sight of you falling apart so quickly.
‘let’s see if you can truly take it then, hm?’
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taglist - @btwsturn @thesturniolos @mattsbratt69 @stramboli4life @ducksturniolo @st4rhubz @sturns-posts @sturniolo14 @sturnioloenthusiast @ivonchetooo1239 @littlebookworm803 @bellas-de3d @mattsneezing @sturniofilmd @athenamossymandella @mattslolita @ellie-luvsfics @st7rnioioss @qwertytit @33sturniolo @ilovechrissturniolo1 @muwapsturniolo @sturniolos-blog @realuvrrr @blahbel668 @sstvrnioloo @mattslutt @styles-sturniolo @wild4sturns @solarsturniolo @cypher-net @erikasurfer @pepsiluvr0209 @gamermattsgf @junnniiieee07 @stonermattsgf @55sturn @lookingformyromeo @nicksbestie @strombolilovr @imsosillygoofylol @riasturns @sturncakez
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#sturniolosstar#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fanfic
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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag
↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader
⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband
⤜ Rating: MA 🔞
⤜ WC: 18,286
⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon)
◅ Back to story masterlist
Jungkook
Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.
“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.
“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.
Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”
Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.
Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.
After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.
It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.
Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.
There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.
💔💔💔
Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.
Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.
You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.
“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.
Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.
“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.
“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.
Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.
“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.
“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.
Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.
“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”
You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.
That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.
“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.
“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”
You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”
“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”
Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.
As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.
Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.
You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.
“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.
You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”
“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”
Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.
“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.
Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.
“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”
“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.
Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.
Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.
Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.
“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.
“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.
“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.
You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.
“It’s, uh…”
“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”
You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”
They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.
You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.
“Isn’t that right?” he asks.
“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.
“You’re healthy.”
That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”
“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.
“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”
“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”
The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.
“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.
“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.
Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”
“I’d do it.”
Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.
“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.
“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.
You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.
“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.
“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”
Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”
Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”
“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”
“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.
“Um, no. You know I don’t—”
“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.
“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.
Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”
“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.
“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”
Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”
“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”
Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”
“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.
You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”
“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.
“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”
Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.
Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.
“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.
“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.
Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.
You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.
It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.
Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”
“Hm? Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”
You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”
Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.
Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.
But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?
“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”
Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”
“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.
“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”
She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.
“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”
There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.
Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”
Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”
“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”
“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.
Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”
“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.
“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.
Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.
“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”
Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.
“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”
An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.
The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”
“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”
“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”
The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”
Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.
“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.
A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”
“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”
You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”
“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.
Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.
“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”
“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”
Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.
“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.
He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”
“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”
“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.
This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.
💔💔💔
The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.
You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.
There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.
That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.
Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.
Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.
“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.
You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”
Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”
It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.
Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.
“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”
“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”
“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”
The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.
“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.
“Jungkook.”
“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.
“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”
“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.
“Why? What’s up?”
You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”
Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”
“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.
According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.
You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.
“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”
“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.
“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”
A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”
Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”
“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”
“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.
A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.
It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.
Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.
You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.
All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.
The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.
By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.
“Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”
“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.
“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.
Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”
“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.
The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”
“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”
“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”
It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”
“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”
You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”
There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”
“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.
“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch.
Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.
“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”
Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.
“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.
Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”
After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.
“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.
Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”
You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”
“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.
Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.
“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”
“Seems pretty simple, right?”
You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”
“Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”
“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”
It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.
After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.
The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”
You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”
You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”
The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.
“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.
You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.
The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.
Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.
The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.
By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.
“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.
You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.
“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.
“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.
“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”
Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”
Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.
“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.
“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”
“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”
“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.
“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”
“I understand.”
Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.
“I’m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.
You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.
“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.
“I think so.”
Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”
Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.
“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.
Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?”
Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.
“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.
“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”
Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.
“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.
“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”
“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.
Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.
“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.
Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.
“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.
“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”
You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”
”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”
“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”
Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”
It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”
”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”
If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…
You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”
”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”
“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”
Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.
“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.
”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.
“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.”
You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.
You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.
When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”
💔💔💔
Jungkook
It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.
The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.
Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.
Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.
Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.
With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.
It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.
When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.
Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.
He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.
“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”
Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.
“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.
Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”
Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.
“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”
Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.
“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”
“Hi, guys.”
“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”
“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.
The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.
“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”
The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.
“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.
“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”
“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”
Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.
“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”
You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.
There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”
It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.
“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.
Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.
“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.
“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”
Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.
“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI.
“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”
“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.
“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.
Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”
“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”
“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”
“I love you, too, Jungkook.”
💔💔💔
Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.
“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.
“Yes?”
“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.
You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”
Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.
“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”
“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.
“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.
She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.
“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”
She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”
“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”
Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”
Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.
“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.
Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”
She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”
“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”
“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”
“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.
One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.
Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.
“You missed it.”
“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”
Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.
Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”
“She? It could be a boy.”
“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.
Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”
“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.
“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”
“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”
Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.
Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.
Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.
Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.
There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.
It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.
“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”
“I’m on my way!”
“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”
He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.
“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”
“O-okay.”
The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.
Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.
It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.
“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”
You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”
Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”
“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”
“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.
You nod. “Yeah.”
Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.
“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”
Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.
“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.
“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”
“Oh, she’s not—”
“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.
“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”
Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.
What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.
“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”
Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.
“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.
“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.
This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.
“Kinda weird, huh?”
“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.
He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.
“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”
“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.
“Of course.”
Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.
“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”
The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”
“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”
Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.
“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.
“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”
The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.
Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.
Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.
“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”
Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”
The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”
Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.
“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”
A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.
Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.
“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.
“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.
You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”
“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”
“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.
“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”
The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.
“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.
“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”
Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.
“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.
“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.
The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”
It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.
Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”
“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.
Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.
“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”
When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.
Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.
“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.
“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.
“Is everything okay?”
Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”
“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.
“Where have you been?”
“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”
“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”
“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”
“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”
Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…
“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”
Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”
“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.
It doesn’t work.
“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”
“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.
“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”
Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”
“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”
Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”
“That is not what happened at all!”
“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”
“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”
The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”
Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”
Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”
She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon)
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©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2
#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#dilf jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook imagines#bts smut#bts angst#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#bts imagines#bangtanwhq#btsfests
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ᝰ.ᐟ 📦 — C.SC ; ! with you
sfw / nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. [ fluff & smut ] ꩜. | missing my husband sue me
“you were just missing your boyfriend.”
you were sitting on the couch, sleep deprived you missed your boyfriend, so much he was gone on a tour for what? two or three months you were going crazy at this point.
yes he sent you flowers & gifts but nothing could compare to the warmth of his body laying next to you cuddling.
you were bored of living the same day every single time, since he toured away, waking up, taking a shower, eating, walking kkuma then seeing a tv show & sleep, even you didn’t have energy for friends, you just needed your seungcheol.
i mean he called you but not always, sometimes you’d wish you jump of the screen that your call was ongoing with.
being brought back to you reality by the roaring sounds of the tv, that was playing some random series you had watched, but what really caught your attention was kkuma barking, ‘she was probably hungry’ you thought.
following the sound of her, you went to her “kkuma sweetie come let’s get fo-“ your heart stopped.
he was here. seungchol was finally here. everything you had on your mind had dropped.
you ran into the warmth of his arms, hugging him tight, “thank god I was loosing my mind” you mumbled “I missed you too, my love” he chuckled embracing your hug lovingly.
after breaking the hug, you kissed each other deeply with so many different emotions of love, warmth it was so passionate that the more you indulged him the more safe & comforting you felt, nobody ever made you feel loved like him, choi seungcheol will always be yours to love & care for, you hoped he felt the same towards you.
“someone’s eager hm?” he teased smiling. you just went back to kissing him, eventually you guys went to the bedroom to continue your little love session.
exploring every inch of your body is what he did, making sure kiss every place his hand touched, “think you could get on my lap princess?” he said, you of course obliged, grabbing the flesh of your thighs, he let you settle on his lap, your hands wrapping around the soft nape of his neck, both your chests pressing against each other.
his hands began to roam once again from your back going up & down till reaching the sweet spot of your ass, squeezing them then pulling down your pajama shorts & panties.
fingers sliding down against your flushed bum he went in, in your cunt, brushing through your folds then pinching your clit slightly just enough to make it feel good, you tilted your head, burying it in his neck then letting out a moan after his cocky tricks “i already waited enough, please just fuck me good” you whined
casually ignoring you, he went back to playing with your pussy, he played with your clit a bit but found your hole then continued to tease by lining the tip of his finger in & out your already wet hole, arousal was dripping out of it.
he pushed his finger in your needy hole then quickly after doing so he added another, a third following shortly, you felt so fulfilled you couldn’t ask for more, his fingers did not compare with yours to when you & his’s rather many steamy phone sessions.
working with the magic of his fingers he pushed in & out of you while you sat there squirming with whiny & breathy moans following with it, “s-s’good cheolie” you pushed down on his fingers that were stretching you open, the feeling of his digits in you feeling ethereally amazing, scissoring his fingers inside your cunt, he came in contact with your sweet spot, fastening his pace he began began to hit your walls just by his fingers imagining, that if it was his cock made you even more fucked out for wanting his dick.
already feeling an urge to cum you moaned out loudly then cum came squirting out of your wet pussy. “god my baby’s been desperate already squirting on me huh?” he said pulling out his fingers then licking your sweet liquids that came splurging out. “never fails to taste good” he moaned amused sucking every last bit of it, you couldn’t deny that was fuckin hot of him.
“please lemme ride you seungcheolie?” you asked desperately wanting to do so.
“of course you can, sweets” he gave you the green light, you quickly discarded whatever he was wearing from pants to shirt, he now completely naked & may I say very hard, his cock itching aching to be inside of you.
sliding down on his cock was a hell of a time the feeling of his length, welcoming the warmth of your insides was so amazing.
you began to bounce on him, breasts bouncing with you underneath your little top that you had worn, seungcheol saw how gorgeous you looked on top of him, wondering how he got a beauty like you as his lover.
seungcheol grabbed your waist with his hands he’d thrust up as you went down making sure that he’ll hit all your special spots, when the both of your hips snapped against each other both of you would let out lewd moans & groans.
“god this pussy was made for me” he groaned throwing his head back continuously thrusting upwards to meet your hips once again deepening his cock inside your tight cunt. after a couple of minutes your hips gave out on you, so you just started to hump on him, he however just snapped his pace to an inhuman level making you loose your mind only one thought was in your mind it was him.
the knot tying inside your stomach, moaning more loudly than ever the mmphs, the non-understandable words coming out of your mouth “s’cheolie m’gonna cum” you yelled out cum rushing out of you for the second time.
slowing down his pace to give you a little rest “feeling good angel?” he caressed your face gently, you only nodded embracing him with a huge hug, you sighed softly “missed you too much cheol, don’t ever go away” “I’ll talk you with me next time, promise.” he spoke then adding “but baby, don’t you think your cheolie deserves to cum?” he looked at you, pulling his cock out then flipping you & fucking you tons of rounds till the only thing you could say was his name. seungcheol.
knowing that you would wake up sore with tons of love-marks,but you were okay, you loved every single bit of that night because you were with him.
#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen scenarios#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fluff#scoups x you#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups scenarios#svt smut
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RDR2 HC - Running away together & what would it take.
RDR2 x GN! Reader
Summary: Running away together & what would it take for them to.
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Running away, Some Happy Endings
Characters: Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Hosea Matthews, John Marston, Josiah Trelawny
Dutch van der Linde
- A hard task in itself, prying Dutch away from his power over the gang, it's an almost impossible task. Though echoing Hosea's words to lie low would earn you some time in having a voice over Micah's, he would consider it.
- Nightly talks cuddled up in his arms, imagining life away from the one you have aloud; he entertains it, but not without saying some doubtful scenarios. Having to change your ways, almost manipulating him into taking that life as a real thing.
- Never leaving his side, hearing every thought, not giving Micah a chance to talk to him in private, in turn driving you crazy. Doing anything for that good life, leaving your intentions to change just to get your Dutch safe.
- Every day drained you; all that work had finally caught up to you. Slowly, you lost faith as the gang came into more trouble, making you come to a realization. You made your choice.
- A night of loving Dutch one more time, cuddled up into his arms, then having to leave them. Leaving him in a deep sleep with a final kiss. Taking your horse he had gotten for you a long time ago and what little clothes you had left from all the years of running. Finally leaving in the cold night, not daring to look back.
A year had gone by, and still you dreamt about that day and its many outcomes, but all you could do was smile at the memory of his messed hair loving him for that final night. Telling yourself over and over that it spared the both of you, there was no use to keep trying. Leaving to build your own life, living out your dream that you tried so hard to convince Dutch of so many times.
He would have loved it, just the two of you; he just couldn't see it. Getting up from your bed, dressing up for the day, and having to live off of the small land you fought to get months after. Making your way to the kitchen, readying breakfast before your day of work, but a knock interrupts you from the task.
Grabbing your old weapon, hoping it still worked, then walking slowly to the door, pointing the weapon from your hip. Upon opening the door, your mind and body went blank. Dutch was standing at your front door, looking like shit. "Dear," he says, voice cracking. Even after all this time, he charmed his way into your heart, igniting your love again.
-
Arthur Morgan
- You both have always talked about that kind of life and what it would be like, but it always ended as a joke and never as something to look forward to. Until you really thought about it, hearing Hosea's story of him and his wife fed into your dream.
- Bring it up to Arthur one night, making sure he took it seriously, not knowing what to say, only he couldn't leave the gang just like that. Over time, you pushed the matter, and he always listened but never said anything.
- Being with the gang for a long time, you watched it change as Dutch came into more trouble. Finally, it hit a breaking point when Arthur went missing from the meeting with Colm O'Driscoll. The camp had to calm you down, but it didn't stop the tears every night, fighting your mind to just leave, but it turned to worry that if he'd come back, you needed to be there for him.
- After days of the gang searching, you finally spotted Arthur's house with him on top, thinking you had just gone crazy. Hearing his groans of pain, you ran to him, crying aloud, causing the camp to spring into action, with some having to hold you back so the rest could work.
- After an hour of working on him finally letting you see him, never leaving his side as you waited for him to wake. Hosea brought you something to eat every day, knowing what you had been going through.
Snapping from your exhausted state as a groan came from Arthur, watching as he stirred from his rest. Tears once again spilled from your eyes while grabbing his hand and placing it to your cheek. Waking fully, he whispered your name, running a hand through his hair earning a hum from him as he rested his eyes once again.
"I thought you were dead," you whispered, kissing his hand earning another hum. "Okay," he whispered weakly, making you look at him meeting his blue-green eyes. Taking a minute for you to understand, you nodded, "Tonight." You responded, getting only a weak nod back. Quickly getting up to then plant a kiss on his lips before preparing your leave.
-
Javier Escuella
- Being so loyal to Dutch, as soon as you'd bring that idea of life up, he'd tell you of the time he tried to find that kind of life, with it ending with Dutch saving him, in turn needing to repay Dutch with his life. A life for a life.
- Still, of course, you stayed with him, but it didn't stop you from trying. From mentioning small things, such as telling him to look at the homesteads as you passed them or talking to couples who owned their land, hearing the stories of home life making sure Javier was near you to hear.
- Wishing aloud to love him behind closed doors, but he brought up the suggestion of a hotel quickly you shot it down with wishes of loving him in your own home. Unknown to you, it wasn't till the end that he would change his mind.
- Seeing as he buddied up with Micah breaking your heart, seeing what Micah did to Dutch, there would be no way he would sink his claws into your Javier. Realizing it even more after hearing Arthur's words confirming your Javiers changed, solidifying your thoughts. Having to do the only thing that was left.
- Grabbing a bag, you started to stuff your things into it. Hearing footsteps come closer, you didn't look up, knowing who it was. When asking what you were doing, you told him you were leaving him. Shocked, he begged, but you gave it to him in the end, giving him an ultimatum. You or Dutch.
Pain washed over his face. He looked to the floor, hoping it would have the answer, but you continued packing. "Amor," he begged, but you kept your back to him as much as it pained you. "I can't do this, Javi," you say, tears stinging the brim of your eyes. "Tell me," he says, putting a hand on yours.
"All of this, you hate Micah. What changed?" You asked, making him look away, but you brought his face back softly with your hand. Cupping his face, "I know you see it. He's not well. I'm not going to stick around anymore, Javi," you say, turning to zip up your bag.
"It's your choice," you say before grabbing a few more things. "I can't," he says weakly. "Okay," saying your final words before walking to the horses, putting your things onto yours before hopping onto your horse.
Taking a last look at the camp, not caring who chose to look. Hearing as the horse next to you stirred, looking to see Javier hop on his with his belongings behind him. Smiling at each other, you turned away from camp, taking off quickly to start your new life.
-
Charles Smith
- Having been in the gang for a small amount of time, he had never shut down the idea, though never did he start to make plans on it. Figuring it was from his friendships with Arthur and John or him just settling in having run with him before the gang, you were of course thankful for them taking you both in, but shaking off the idea was never going to happen.
- Taking long rides on the days he got off, hugging his waist while resting your head on his back, talking about many things: camp gossip, your past travels, the future. Sometimes passing by a homestead watching as the people worked away at their land, imagining out loud how that would be, it would be better than always running.
- He loved you dearly; it pained him whenever leaving you to do a job with the gang, but you hated it more when he came to you from a watch stumbling on his tired feet to then crashing into your arms falling asleep before he could even mumble, "I love you.".
- Making his choice after the bank job that had gone wrong, having to bury Hosea and Lenny's bodies, the both of you talked about the decision ending with a kiss and the start of packing your things. Though quickly interrupted by the law, causing you to run once again, making you both stick around the gang a little longer.
- Knowing it put the both of you in more danger, he tried to make it quick by using the gang to help the tribe, only meeting them once by going with him, you understood. Finally, the day came telling only Arthur and John and those closest to you, getting hugs and wishes of luck to your new life.
Waking to the cooing of birds wrapped in the warmth of Charles's arms, hearing him snore softly, kissing his scared cheek, waking him from his slumber earning a smile. Looking at you with tired brown eyes, taking a moment to admire your well-rested faces.
Wiggling out of his arms with an objection as he tightened them, making you both laugh before you headed off to the kitchen in your homestead, but not without getting dressed first from the night before. Having been years since that day, leading to a new life, though the past caught up a year later, causing Charles to go with John just to make Dutch and Micah pay for all those years ago.
Of course, coming back to you with a bullet in the shoulder and a promise to never leave you again, from John's home, you both made it up to Canada, living out your dream of a homestead. Ending your reminisce on the past as Charles wraps his arms around you once more, kissing your neck softly while you readied the morning drinks.
-
Bill Williamson
- It had never been an idea to the both of you from all the years you ran with the gang until going into town. Seeing how a couple talked about their lives after getting that first taste of that kind of life, you never looked back.
- Not telling Bill at first, wanting him away from Dutch a bit before springing it upon him after one of your hotel nights away, he entertained your thoughts, though laughing at some parts until he realized you were serious.
- His first feeling was anger at how he could never do that to Dutch, but you argued that Dutch doesn't control your lives. Finally, he calmed down, telling you he looked up to Dutch. Knowing how he wanted the limelight that Arthur and John had, you convinced him that even if it was painful to say and hear, he would never be them. His obsession can't control him.
- Even though he listened with understanding, even agreeing, he told you the time wasn't right. Giving your understanding back to his reasoning, you stayed with him. But things didn't stay still for forever.
- The bank job had gone wrong with the law running you out of Shady Bell, feeling as if it was years before you got Bill back in your arms after hearing tales of him on Guarma. Having enough, you started to pack your things, causing Bill to freak. Hearing none of it, you gave him a choice. Hoping he would pick the right one.
Standing in front of your horse, holding your bag tightly, "I've hit the end, Bill; I-I can't. I can't stay up every night hoping you're alive; it's not fair to me or you." You choked through your words, causing a scene for the whole camp to see, but you didn't care; you were done.
Seeing his hesitant look back at Dutch, who watched on calmly, you had your answer. His continuous seek for approval from Dutch would never stop, and you weren't going to be around to watch it kill him or you.
-
Hosea Matthews
- Having left before he would hear the idea once again, not shooting it down immediately though ending your talk with how his story ended, right back where he started.
- As time went on, his coughs had gotten worse, as well as his attitude towards it, helping with his cough fits earned a hand wave and a choked-out "I'm fine." But you kept pushing, knowing if it was the end for him, it should be anywhere but running with the gang.
- Bringing it up more, he entertained it a bit more, but other reasons would always pop up after, trying to understand you let it go after every talk. As the gang settled into Shady Bell slowly, you noticed that he became even worse; he barely came to bed, but when he did stumble in, smelling of booze, giving you a slurred "I love you" before snoring away.
- Not waiting for his final say any longer, you slowly packed your things over the days, making sure both of your horses were ready to go in the night. Thankfully, you met a couple who knew of a cabin not too far away at a cheap price. Saving up quickly, you bought the cabin, leaving it to wait for you. Taking note of when the watch shifts change and when the camp dies down for the night.
- Finally, you made your move. As Hosea stumbled into being his familiar drunk self, you went into action, calling his horse over by the back door quietly loading on what little you had left. Then, waking Hosea leading him to the horse with false words, finally, you were ready with Hosea in a drunken sleep on your back, fleeing into the dark swamp.
Riding through the night, keeping Hosea on the horse, with luck, you made it through the swamp and into the forest on your way to the cabin. Not knowing how long this would last not even sure if this was a new life. "Just enough for you to rest," you whispered into the cold night air.
Making it to the cabin, using all your strength to get him in the cabin, laying him on the bed, tucking him. Going back out, taking your things from his and your horses, then letting them rest in the small stable for the next few days.
Waking into the morning still hearing Hosea's snores with his warm arms around you. Slowly, you get up, readying his medicine, hoping he'll understand your actions. Being all for him in the end.
-
John Marston
- Having entertained the idea only came up two times. The first was for one of Hosea's cons, having you and John play as a married couple that lived on a farm just for another couple who actually lived on a farm to come along to buy into Hosea's con.
- As years went on, seeing how the gang dwindled, thankful for not taking your John, but not without a scare and a promise to stay with you. Getting out of the snow, helping John to Horseshoe Overlook, fighting to keep him down, and resting. John made a joke about you being his spouse and having a little farm. That was the second time.
- John wasn't the only one with that joke; being protective over him, Hosea started to joke about how the con act ended long ago, but you were still acting the part.
- Finally, John was ready for jobs again, so you loosened your protection, though you weren't afraid to give it to Dutch if he came back with so much as a small scratch. Furthering that joke in the camp led you two to talk. John agreed to the possibility, but it was different in his mind. You saw it coming sooner than him.
- Sadly, it wasn't until the very end you could live out that idea. The gang fell apart, pushing you both towards Strawberry, but not without making a rule for yourself. Never to live that life again. It was easier said than done. John helped the framer, and you fled, leaving your John behind.
Reading the letter over again as the carriage hit every bump on the road, making your impatience worse. Finally stopping, not wanting to look out the window, needing to see him up close, you hurried out.
Standing there face-to-face with your John, having been gone for so many months, your eyes stinging as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. "It's over," he whispered into your ear, making the threatening tears spill, tightening your hold, not wanting to let him go again.
-
Josiah Trelawny
- Living that dream already in Saint Denis, but unbeknownst to you, Josiah had dealings with a gang. Hearing the name of the gang from officers around town yet not thinking anything of them. Not even questioning his absence at home as his "office work" makes him travel a lot.
- Loving the stories of his travels made you susceptible to listening for things, but never did you think you'd hear about your husband from an officer's mouth on the street. Then the next day, another questioned you on your doorstep, being very hostile and pushing past you just to find nothing, but before leaving, accusing you of dealing with the "Van Der Linde Gang.".
- Hearing nothing from your Josiah in the few passing days got you worried—maybe you didn't know the man you married. Though finally, you saw him as he crawled up the stairs of your Saint Denis home, the sight brought you to tears.
- The damage to him was heartbreaking. He groaned and hissed through his teeth as you cleaned up his bloody wounds, then bandaged them up. Saying nothing, you let the silence fall with his story quickly following, but you didn't let him finish.
- Saying the name of the gang, seeing how his face turned pale. Telling him of what transpired days before, hit you hard speaking of what you knew out loud to him. Starting with a sigh, he told you everything with a voice filled with shame.
"Stop," you said, interrupting his expiation, doing as you said, looking to you. Not being able to handle the sight of him knowing every cut or possible broken bone was because of his deals with the gang. You started to question whether the life you built was even real; was the love you got from him even real?
"Love," he pleaded, placing a hand on yours looking into the eyes you fell in love with so many times. Still, you held your ground. "No more J," you say, making him look down watching as he nodded. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his upper back and shoulders, hugging him as he sat in your home, where he belonged.
Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
#arthur morgan x reader#javier escuella x reader#charles smith x reader#bill williamson x reader#hosea matthews x reader#john marston x reader#dutch van der linde x reader#josiah trelawny x reader#josiah trelawny x you#arthur morgan x you#javier escuella x#charles smith x#charles smith x you#bill williamson x you#hosea matthews x you#john marston x#john marston x you#dutch van der linde x you#rdr2 headcanons#rdr2 x reader
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Mammon head cannons <3
We all know mammon is tsundere, loving to bottle up his emotions towards his loved ones and put on a act. However whenever you two are alone, his tough guy persona melts away completely and turns into your shy demon boyfriend. He both hates and loves that you have that power over him
He loves to collect little trinkets. Hey, no he didn't steal them!..... most of them. I like to think that he has some really sharp eyes so even if something is really well hidden, he spots it a nicks it. He loves showing off his collection to you, talking a million miles a hour as he holds onto your sleeve and boasts about his new tiny thing
If you were to come down to devildom as a welder or a Jewler, oh lord he will try to marry you on the spot. He absolutely loves to watch you work on your creations, even subjecting little ideas he comes up with for you to make. Sure, at the start he tries to steal your creations to sell them but once he gets closer to you, he absolutely loves bringing you his little trinkets to wield into rings and bracelets
Absolutely loves making nests with his pillows and blankets, spreading his body out on top of his nest in his full demon form. He will act all shy if you find him like this on his nest but when he realizes your not making fun of him, buddy, you are in for a long night of cuddles and deep conversation.
Ok hear me out, when mammon cuddles you, he lets out soft snores that sound like a mix between a purr and the sound a crow makes when its happy. He will hide his face in your neck while cuddling as his arms wrap protectively around your waist, subconsciously purring his little heart out in his sleep as his wings cover you in a protective hold
After having you literally die in his arms that one time, he realized how easily it was for you to slip from his fingers so this man does HEAVY research on humans. What humans cant eat, what irritates their skin, what's best for their health, what food will make them live longer, what temperatures they can withstand, the whole 9 yard. He will always give you a bottle of water at morning, noon, and night and will refuse to go anywhere unless you drink some. If he finds out you haven't been drinking through the day, he will genuinely get scared you will die and beg you to drink. He might have missed a few things but he loves you dearly
He gets bad nightmares about loosing you and those dear to him, they started happening more often after he held your dead body in his arms. He would usualy wake up in a cold sweat and go find lucifer, making sure to poke his head into his little brothers rooms to make sure they are ok before going to find comfort in Lucifer. But with you? He would cling to you and thank anyone who would listen that you were still alive, still next to him. He would hide his face in your neck and quietly cry himself back to sleep, being woken up to immediate comfort from you
He mindlessly doodles when he is bored or if he is focused on something else, like you for example. He likes to admire you during class so sometimes when he's supposed to be taking notes, he will start to subconsciously doodle you in his notebook. He will turn bright red if anyone points this out and he will throw his notebook into the wall, just like that video of the guy throwing his laptop into the wall. Poor guy wont get a break
My man will 100% steal you away from his brothers and just go for a walk with you, it doesn't need to lead to anywhere, he just likes talking and being with you
He calls you his little treasure, his jewel, his first, and most likely a nickname of your actual name. They roll off his tounge so easily, he will accidentally call you these Infront of people. "Stay away from my treasure!" ..... "your what?" " D...DONT AVOID THE QUESTION!"
"I wouldn't trade you for all the grim in the world treasure, you mean more to me then money"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I absolutely love Mammon, he is my favorite character but i dont think this was written to the best of my ability. I might come back to this in the future but until then<3
Who should i do next?
#valsdelulucorner#obey me#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me x mc#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me fanart#obey me nightbringer#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me x you#obey me x y/n#obey me x gender neutral reader#obey me oneshot#obey me headcanons#obey me mammon x mc#obey me mammon x you#obey me boys#obey me fluff#omomtrta#om! mammon#om! mc#om! shall we date#obey me!#om! nightbringer
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Hhggffffffgg… pweasd.. pweasd more Leap of Faith. Part two of them meeting each other in hell. Pretty sure they’d end up in hell since suicide is a sin, iirc?
Uweh wahhhh. Felt it real deep of losing the only meaningful connection, the big sadness taking over. I’m sobbing. My heart—
Your writing is amazing as always. I eat that shit up.
...The people have spoken. I am your humble servant. Please accept this offering...
Heavy themes, religious trauma, mental/physical torture
Minors please DNI
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Like a shooting star.
You looked like a shooting star against the purple, starless sky of the pride ring, a glowing gold and teal line trailing behind you like a tail.
Alastor pushed his shadows faster through the streets of the pentagram, not a care who he pushed, sliced or scared out of the way - he had to get to you, had to catch you and not let you crash into unforgiving ground, like it was mundane, like you were any other meaningless, unimportant, goddamned sinner.
He couldn't allow it.
Wouldn't allow it.
Faster and faster your form grew shape, and he realized that the big, heavy radio that was still in your arms - still pressed tightly to your chest - acted like an anchor, accelerating your plunge, threatening to shatter you into the hard, stony streets underneath, or worse: Through.
"Let go!", he hissed desperately to himself, pulling and yanking and gnashing and urging his shadows to work to their limit, whipping them into a speed that could break both, him and the damned radio, if need be, if you would just slow down and gain him a few more crucial seconds to get to you.
The distance between you and him shrunk until your fall felt close, so close, too close, as though if you'd only be conscious to just reach out and outstretch a hand to him, his eldritch tendrils could grab it.
"Come on."
His dark silhouette growled, partly manifesting and elongating himself more to maneuver around the last alley corner.
"Almost... THERE!"
As a streak of blinding light, like a lightning bolt, and with the force of a crashing plane, you smashed into his solid, physical demonic form, as Alastor manifested into an extension of flesh and limbs right beneath your descending trajectory, and swallowed you right there in his arms before both of you hit the ground.
***
The void around you was dark. Quiet. Endless and expanding. You couldn't feel anything other than the feeling of nothingness surrounding you, floating but at the same time... not. No ground beneath, no sky above - you didn't even know when you hit the water. Was it even water anymore? Did it matter?
In the blindness, you registered the vanta black around you fading into white, bright and scorching. And that feeling you previously lacked bloomed to the front of your consciousness:
Pain.
Like a thousand needles poking out from every corner of your skull, making you yelp out and whimper. You shifted your body, or at least tried, only to cry out and curl up into yourself, clutching whatever the big and heavy thing was in your arms, tight as the muscles in your upper body convulsed, twitched and trembled at the burning pain. Where the hell were you?
"𝓦𝓮'𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵, 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭. 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮'𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽.""
A voice made out of a thousand voices spoke, and it resonated from within you – amplified through every cell of your body, booming and mighty and utterly inhumane. You screamed out the pressure it put on your brain, cried as it felt as though something was pouring into you and flowing out all at once, burning, devouring and replacing every fiber, every strand of DNA. You writhed in agony, wanting to beg for whatever it was to stop, but you were in the hands of an infinite power above you, and so, all you could do was howl and weep.
"𝓘𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓲𝓵."
It was men and women and children, high and deep and loud and quiet and screams and whispers and it overwhelmed you to listen to it.
"𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝔀𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵. 𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽, 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓲𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮, 𝔀𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓲𝓹 𝓲𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷."
Your throbbing hands cramped around the object in your arms, nails scratching on the surface. Wood. Soft wood, warm beneath your fingertips.
"Alastor...", you sobbed through clenched teeth, memories slowly pushing through the pain to the front of your mind, clawing their way through the thick haze of the booming voice of the entity. "I want to go to Alastor..."
"𝓜𝔂 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭, 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮. 𝓓𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓹𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵."
"He's not..." A low moan spilled past your dry, bitten lips as another wave of excruciating pain crashed down your spine. Tears stained your cheeks as the radio in your arms felt heavier and heavier, dangerously close to slip from your grip.
"𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓾𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾."
The voice was patient, neutral, not showing any sign of rage or warmth or even condescension. It only held a commanding power, like a pull from gravity, unintentional, elemental, to give in, to accept, to repent.
But you couldn't.
Couldn't even if you tried. The tears that came to your eyes now weren't out of pain alone, but because you couldn't help the insurmountable longing to leave, to not be held back any longer.
"Alastor isn't evil or wicked...", your cracked voice whispered. "Not to me..."
"𝓓𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓬𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽, 𝓸𝓯 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮. 𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓯 𝓭𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔂, 𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓼 𝓪 𝓽𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓪 𝓸𝓯 𝓪𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓽𝔂. 𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷, 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭."
Torture.
It felt as though someone was physically digging through you with dull claws, sawing into your very soul, bending, ripping, breaking and rearranging, molding the picture you had of Alastor to a villain, a torturer, a destroyer, a greedy animal without reason, feasting upon human despair and wailing screams, wreaking havoc and taking lives laughing along the way as he rips fangs into flesh that looked like your own.
"That... isn't him.", you mouthed breathlessly, forcing yourself to focus. "You're a liar."
You fought to come back, with the sound of Alastor's smiling voice, molten with static and spoken with feeling.
'And I can most assure you... pretty is a well fitting word to describe you.'.
"Liar... liar... LIAR!"
The illusion the entity conjured around you began to shatter, as did the images it showed you, breaking and tearing away like rotten paper from the ones you wanted to hold on to...
The hours and days and nights spent together, the long and entertaining conversations over meals, his teasing comments and your quick-wit responses, the little things that made his voice lift an octave and a tiny huff, which you learned over the weeks was him trying not to chuckle at your banter. The softness in his tune when he realized you were drifting into slumber.
The way he called you his dove.
"𝓦𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮. 𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭."
the entity said, though their tone had begun to waver, echoing withing the faint sound of breaking glass.
"𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭. 𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭, 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓹𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓪𝓵𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝓸𝓻 𝓫𝓮, 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻, 𝓪 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓸𝓭."
You felt heat creeping up your legs, as if your skin was bubbling, burning and it was hard to speak, as the smell of cauterized flesh and blood filled your nose. Bones were shifting, limbs trembling and twisting as if they wanted to turn you inside out, skin color changing and fading into palish white, nails growing into slender blue talons, something rough and rigid sprouting from your back and shoulders.
But you only tightened your arms around the radio, eyes pressed close and teeth grit together.
You've had enough.
"Fuck your lies, fuck your salvation and FUCK. YOUR. GOD."
Gravity returned in an instant, like someone cut a hole through space, the air and heat from your lungs gone as it ripped you from the strange white with unexpected violence – malevolence even - body flaying in the sudden wind of the descend.
Purple and red shades swirled before your eyes, wild strands of glittering golden hair fluttered in and out of your vision, barely recognizing them as your own. The heat of the air and the sight of a black pentagram on a red sun, sinking slowly beyond a tumbling horizon were the last things you noticed before unconsciousness reached mercifully out to claim you again.#
***
“Angel! Get Charlie over here, I found 'im!”
Husk stared down the crater, trying to wrap his head around the sight before him. His ears flicked as he heard Angel shouting something unintelligible to the girls, his footsteps quickly nearing the place where he stood.
“She's comin' in a sec, she and Vagina ran ova' to the maneater colony to get Rosie and... what in Satans left ballsack?!”
The spiders' eyes widened when he saw what Husk saw - Down the deep and wide cavity, right in the middle, was a twitching, faintly green glowing mass of tentacles and limbs. A distorted groan rumbled from below, thick and riddled with static feedback as Alastor's corrupted form slowly receded to normalcy – as normal as he was.
He was lying on his back, curled around the motionless form of a naked female demon.
Her legs were pulled up, a limp hand with short, teal talons pressed against the side of the radio demons wild, madly grinning face, while the other was trapped and hidden in between both bodies.
Both Angel and Husks hairs stood on ends at the sound he made, not daring to move or draw attention to themselves until Alastor had regained full consciousness and, most of all, reason back. The unknown sinner that was pressed against Alastor's chest had gray, crooked looking wings sprouting from her back, various shades of teal staining the ragged tips. Her skin was white, bordering on cream with some spruce and azure specks that traveled over her neck and shoulders. From where they stood they could see blonde locks tangled in Alastor's claws, shimmering in hell's twilight as if they were made out of real gold.
Angel gave his partner a nervous side glance, as if expecting him to say or do something. "Should we... holy mother of shitballs, this is so fucked up... umm... should we get them out of..."
"̷S̷̷ T̷̷ A̷̷ Y̷ ̷W̷̷ H̷̷ E̷̷ R̷̷ E̷ ̷Y̷̷ O̷̷ U̷ ̷A̷̷ R̷̷ E̷."
Husk had only heard Alastor's voice like this on a few occasions and those instances had almost always ended in bloodshed. He shook his head at Angel in a silent warning, gripping one of his wrists when the blackened pits of the radio demon found his, glaring at him with glowing crimson iris'. It sent a shiver down the cat's back, and Angel, feeling the tremble of his partner and sensing that this was a rare occasion where he should keep his usual, lewd remarks to himself, cleared his throat.
"I-Is a'ight Smiles, we're not movin'. Charlies' comin, and she's bringin' Rosie, so just... chill, okay? No one's gonna hurt y-your uh... girlfriend?" Angel forced himself to remain eye contact, swallowing against the growing lump in his throat.
Alastor didn't answer for a good minute or two, eyes shifting over Husks' grim, but wary face and Angels worried one, before looking back down, the flames of anger and fear dying as soon as his gaze fell on the woman cradled in his lap. Her pale, motionless face was partially hidden by her hair, but the features he recognized were much like the ones she had before she did the unthinkable.
Her breathing was slow and shallow - but, above all, she was here, right here, next to him, unbroken from the fall, safe in his arms...
He brushed a few stray strands of her golden mane aside, watching closely as her chest barely heaved and fell, transfixed at the movement, the guarantee that she lived.
He lifted one his hands to caress her cheek, the motion much more careful and tender than either Angel or Husk thought him capable of, wiping off tiny pieces of debris from the radio she had carried like a lifeline. It had been burst by the impact, splinters of mahogany wood and shards of metal wiring scattered around them both. The top of her left wing had suffered some damage, no doubt the result of the force of his grip as he caught her, little cuts and smears of dried blood covering her sides.
"My dove. My foolish, silly, lonely girl.", his strained voice breathed, his usual filter missing, as he turned her unresponsive face gently with the tip of his claw, hoping to see any indication that the girl that he had driven to the lengths of sheer, reckless stupidity was still here with him.
The sound of steps on the broken concrete made his head turn with a sickening crack. Alastor was now curled completely over you, his arms wrapped tightly around your figure, hiding your vulnerable and exposed body from view.
Rosie had arrived alongside the princess and her partner, all of them short of breath and as shocked and confused as the other two demons to find the radio demon and a freshly fallen sinner, locked into an awkward embrace.
He watched her kneeling next to him, her expression was best described as compassionate curiosity. When he didn't move, didn't talk, didn't acknowledge her presence around him, his form only slightly moving to shield your motionless frame away, Rosie, ever the understanding and pragmatic lady she was, carefully reached over to him and set a gloved hand onto his shoulder in reassurance. Her razor sharp smile was soft as she held his blackened gaze for a heartbeat.
"Seems like I will meet your little dove after all, my dearest friend. But now, let's get you both somewhere safe."
***
You opened your eyes to red. All red. Everywhere red.
Warm and bright and comforting.
A sensation tickled your head and nose, feathers, brushing the top of them with a barely there touch. You wanted to brush them away, but your arms felt heavy and warped and strange, unable to be lifted. Slow blinks put your eyes into focus, like the lens of a camera that was getting adjusted on it's intended shot.
You were looking at a red painted ceiling, and when you strained your aching head to tilt a little your eyes slowly wandered over luscious, ornate wallpaper in burgundy's and scarlet's, morbid looking horns and skulls mounted on the walls next to slightly askew, empty picture frames. A heavy, dark bookcase on your right was full of tattered tombs, books and magazines, small models of twisted looking skeletons and an old, vintage... radio...
Everything clicked back into place.
Alastor, gone.
The bridge, dark over the water.
The black and the white.
The voice and the pain and the lies and the fall...
Your breath hitched, and your heart started to pound faster and louder, thrumming violently in your ears as you fell into panic, eyes frantically forcing your body to move, to search, until you realized you were stuck underneath the weighted presence of a head that rested upon your sternum, tufts of soft black and red hair draped over your chest, slightly covering a face hidden away in the crook of your neck. A low, quiet hum of white noise came from the person the head belonged to, sitting at your bedside and upper body half-slumped over you... a sound resonating deep within you, stirring up all too familiar feelings.
He was still, but clearly breathing, and he hadn't moved even though your pulse must've skyrocketed. A raspy gasp of relief and astonishment escaped you.
It had worked.
You really had done it.
And Alastor...
You started to sob, loud and violent, your chest burning and heavy, but not out of fear or panic anymore but the impact of a thousand feelings of pure happiness. The sounds woke the creature slumbering on your shoulder, his shoulders twitched, and you could see him lift his head to slowly look up, dark circles under his crimson eyes.
Your name rolled over this demons lips, not a word, no greeting, only a longingly whispered name, spoken with a broken, ragged, familiar voice. It made you finally cry, tears spilling from you uncontrollably, unable to stop, unable to think. You heard him call your name again, saw the widening grin of his mouth through watery eyes, his arm reaching out to brush your tear-stained cheek. He didn't manage to even fully extend his fingers when your shaking hands reached out to grab his lapels, pulling him into you so that you could finally touch him, feel him instead of just hearing him.
Finally tangible, finally underneath your fingers as well as your skin.
"It's you... i-it's you right?", you stammered breathlessly, voice wrought with tears of happiness. "A-Alastor. I found you, I'm not dreaming, You're Alastor..."
"At your service, my dear...", Alastor shushed softly, one hand gently caressing your hair as you leaned into the warmth of the touch. His wide smile wavered for a moment, gaze shifting to something sad and mournful as he pulled himself away to look at you.
"But you shouldn't be here, my dove." He sighed, but as he looked back to you and saw the frightened, horrified expression on your face he shook his head, leaning his brow against your own, a gesture of assurance.
"I never intended for you to be here. You didn't deserve this death, and hell doesn't deserve you."
"H-Heaven can take a long walk off a short pier..." You tried to speak with a steady voice, but failed, as your whole body began to shudder in bubbling anger at the mere implication of this cursed entity. The one that claimed to be merciful salvation but had no problem with cruel manipulation. You blinked a couple of tears away, drawing a trembling breath, before meeting his tired eyes.
"I was... in some strange place. I was offered redemption, if I..."
You frowned, sitting up slowly, careful not to make him withdraw more, holding onto the sleeves of his jacket with stiff, aching hands.
"They wanted me to denounce you. If I renounced you they... would've let me enter heaven. When I didn't want to, when I said I wanted to go to you... They showed me things while hurting me. Horrible, disgusting lies."
Your breath quickened and the corners of your vision darkened, and you realized with a shuddering panic that you were close, way too close to breaking down into sobs again. Your claw-like nails dug into the material of his sleeve as you struggled to compose yourself, ripping tiny cuts into it. You took a deep breath, pushing through the memory, reliving it until...
Your shoulders shook. For a moment, you felt him shifting, as if he'd expected you to burst into tears again.
Instead, you laughed. You laughed despite your chest hurt, and even harder when you saw his floored, surprised face.
"I basically told god to go fuck himself."
For a heartbeat or two, silence enveloped both of you.
Alastor blinked once, then twice, the third time his grin fell slowly. Another beat later he buried his face in the crook of your neck and...
...the boisterous, unmuted laughter, roaring, insane cackling, so deep and resounding, you could feel it in your stomach, erupted from him. Alastor almost toppled over as he tore himself from you, raking a hand trough his hair as his head shook, a manic, wonderfully impish grin tugging on the corners of his mouth.
"You know I don't think you were honest with me about your name, dove. Your initial answer of 'crazy' seems much more fitting."
Alastor was laughing so hard, his whole body was trembling with the effort. You felt yourself giggle, then unrestrained laughing along, but it died in your throat when his lips found yours in a sudden swift moment.
It was full of everything.
Full of curiosity, of promises and hope, it was the saving grace you sacrificed heaven for. You smiled into it, moved your lips against his, gentle and chaste, before he pulled away too soon and pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel his warm, slow breathing against your cheeks.
"How fortunate for you that I work best with 'crazy'."
Your beaming smile slowly faded, your hands finding his face to make him look at you. There was one more weight you had to lift off.
"I'm sorry.", you whispered, closing your eyes. “I'm sorry for...”
"Don't be, dear. I was at fault, fearing our connection would... weaken me." He sighed. "You might not understand it right now, but I will tell you everything, once you're fully recovered. Can you wait for that?"
You nodded, a small, grateful curl forming on your lips. You opened your eyes to stare into his, crimson, bright and intense, and yet soft and affectionate. Eyes you always tried to envision, although nothing you imagined came close to the real thing.
"Do you... still think it?", you asked, voice shaking slightly.
Alastor hummed a questioning noise, prompting you to continue, which you did, after a second of hesitation. "Me, weakening you. Do you still think it?"
His quiet laughter resounded in your ears, filling you with warmth and making your heart skip a beat.
"My silly, darling dove. With the woman on my side who dared to throw curses at the face of our very creator - What could ever stop me now?"
And, as Alastor's smile grew wide, and your own mirrored it, you were claimed by red claws and a hot, eager mouth once again, kissed again by those soft, sinful lips, the lips of your friend, your savior, your love - the devil himself, whispering the answer to his question unspoken through your skin right into your heart.
Nothing could stop the both of you now.
Nothing at all.
Taglist for the most awsome people that walk the earth:
@littledolly2345 @sleepywritersworld @crescentparadise @rapturenyx-blog @phisen @alastorsgirl48 @mullet-mother @sirens-and-moonflowers
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fraugwinskawrites#angel dust#charlie morningstar#hazbin husk#rosie hazbin hotel#angst#fluff#happy ending because WE NEEDED IT#TW: dark themes#religious trauma#for the frauchen#I almost died writing this what even is sleep
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the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt;five nights at freddy's
word count: 2144
request?: no
description: in which his regular ice cream spot in the mall hires a new girl
pairing: mike schmidt x female!reader
warnings: use of y/n
masterlist (one, two, three)
Mike's routine at the mall was a constant: clock in, do two laps around the mall, go for lunch with whoever else was on with him - usually Jeremiah - another few laps around the mall where he'd stop to talk to some of the store managers, then clock out and go home. The only deviations to his routine were the occasional birthday parties he'd be tasked with watching over, and whenever there was someone who needed to be handled by security.
Until he met a new worker at the mall.
He was in line for the ice cream place he would occasionally go to for a dessert after his lunch. They saw him so frequently that his order was usually ready before he even got to the counter - another usual in his routine.
But on this day, when he walked up to the counter, a new face was smiling at him.
"Welcome to Ice Cream Parties," she said. "What can I get for you?"
Mike opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Cindy, one of the usual workers, saying, "We have his order, (Y/N). He's a regular."
(Y/N)'s eyes flickered to Mike's security uniform. "Well, that does make sense. Sorry, today's my first day."
"No, that's alright," Mike said. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, but found himself staring blankly at her instead. He was sure she thought he was crazy, and that thought made his face start to heat up.
Cindy came up to the counter with Mike's usual in hand. She passed it over to him with a smile before going back to work. Mike realized then that he hadn't paid yet. As he started taking his wallet from his pocket, (Y/N) said, "On the house."
"Are you sure?" Mike asked.
She nodded. "Consider it a kind gesture for a regular."
"Well...thanks."
"No problem. It's nice to meet you, Mike."
He was about to ask how she knew his name, but she nodded to his name tag before he could.
Right, that would make sense.
"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)."
After that, visits to Ice Cream Parties became part of Mike's routine. The first few visits were under the guise of actually getting ice cream for himself and Jeremiah. If it wasn't too busy, he was able to have brief conversations with (Y/N) while his order was being made. That excuse didn't last very long, though, as eventually Jeremiah put an end to the almost daily ice cream runs.
"Man, I'm going to gain like 10 pounds a week if you keep getting ice cream for us," he had said.
Mike had to admit, he was getting sick of eating ice cream so much, too. Seeing (Y/N) so often had made it worth it at first, but there was only so much of the frozen treat he could take before it became too much. He thought he'd have to come up with a new excuse to see her all the time, but she took him by surprise by doing it for him.
He was doing his rounds during a shift when he saw (Y/N) walking towards him. She had a smile on her face and she waved when he spotted her.
"Hey!" she said. "I've been looking for you?"
"You have?" Mike asked.
"Yeah! I haven't seen you in a bit. I was worried you quit or something."
"God, no, that's not happening. This is probably the easiest job I could have. I've just...been taking a break from ice cream."
"I don't blame you. You've had so much of it lately, I'm surprised you're not just a walking ice cream cone at this point." She playfully bumped his shoulder as she added, "You know, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't need an excuse."
Mike was shocked into silence. Had it really been that obvious? He had tried to play it cool when he went, but maybe he hadn't been cool enough. Maybe it had been glaringly obvious every time he walked up to the counter and ordered whatever new flavor she recommended that he was desperately trying to figure out a way to ask her on a date.
But then she smiled and laughed, and Mike felt a weight being lifted from his chest.
"I'm joking," she said. "Mostly. If you wanna talk to me, you don't need to come buy ice cream. Just come talk to me."
"Noted," Mike said with a nod. "Well...what are you doing this evening?"
"I'm working the closing shift."
Mike tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh. I, uh, I'm off in about an hour."
"I clock in in about an hour."
"Not meant to be, I guess."
(Y/N) shrugged. "I guess not. I have to run a quick errand before work, but I mean what I said - don't be a stranger, Mike."
Mike nodded. Once (Y/N) had turned and walked away, he let himself deflate. It wasn't a "no" because she wasn't interested, but it was still disheartening. It was definitely going to take time to build up his courage to ask her again, but at least now he knew she welcomed his company.
A week or so later, Mike found himself at the mall again on his day off. He usually hated to be there when he wasn't working, but Abby started school the next week and she needed new clothes. She had been begging him for weeks to take her shopping, but he kept putting it off until he had no choice but to take her. On the plus side, Abby was extremely easy to shop with because she knew what she wanted, and she knew where to get it. It would be a quick in and out and he could be away from the mall within an hour and a half tops.
But, after leaving Abby's favorite store with the intent on going home, Abby stopped Mike and said, "I'm hungry."
"We have food at home," he reminded her.
"I don't want actual food. I want a snack."
"We have snacks at home."
"We don't have ice cream at home."
That was enough to shut him up and get him to agree. He had no idea if (Y/N) was working that day, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see her.
As luck would have it, she was working. She was at the counter in her stripped apron and white paper hat. She was passing the customer in front of them an ice cream, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Mike had come to learn the difference between her customer service smile and her real smile, because when she would look at him the dull smile would brighten just a little.
When the customer stepped away, he got to see her face light up at the sight of him.
"Oh, hey Mike!" she said. "I thought you were off today."
"I am. I had to take my sister back to school shopping," Mike said, gesturing to Abby.
(Y/N) looked down at Abby and offered her a warm smile. "Well hey there. I had no idea Mike had a sister."
"This is Abby. Abby, this is (Y/N)."
"It's nice to meet you, Abby."
"You too," Abby said. To Mike she added, "Is she the one you always talk to Max about?"
Mike's ears were on fire as (Y/N) looked back up at him. Abby always knew how to say the right things to embarrass him.
"Just tell her what you want," he muttered, suddenly no longer in the mood for ice cream.
Abby ordered for herself and (Y/N) went to make it. Cindy took over at the cash while (Y/N) stepped away, which disappointed Mike. Usually Cindy was the one making the orders while (Y/N) was at the cash, and they'd have their small conversations while Mike waited. He really hoped what Abby had said hadn't scared (Y/N) off completely.
She came back and handed Abby her ice cream.
"Are you guys sticking around much longer?" she asked Mike.
"We weren't really planning on it. Abby just wanted ice cream before we went home."
"I'm off in, like, 10 minutes. If you guys don't mind a third, I mean."
Mike agreed without consulting Abby. Not like the younger girl really cared either way. She was already deep into her ice cream and ignoring the whole conversation.
Mike and Abby sat at a nearby table to wait for (Y/N). Abby finished her ice cream in record time, giving herself a brain freeze. Mike couldn't help but laugh as his sister scrunched up her face in pain.
"That's why you don't eat cold foods that fast," he said.
"Do you like (Y/N)?" Abby asked through the brain freeze pain.
The quick change in topic startled Mike. "I mean...yeah. She's my friend."
"But you like her," Abby said. "You always talk about her, and I saw the way you look at her."
Mike shrugged, trying not to give Abby any other ideas. He didn't need her blurting something else out and embarrassing him again. "She's a friend, Abby. Friends talk about friends."
"Friends don't look at other friends like they want to kiss them, though."
Mike chuckled. "Some do."
Abby gave him a look. He sighed and said, "Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you permission to say stuff to her about it, okay? For now, we're just friends."
"You should ask her out. I think she'd say yes."
"It's not that easy, Abs."
"What's not that easy?"
Mike jumped at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice behind him. When he looked at her, she was already changed out of her work uniform. "Nothing. Abby and I were just talking."
He shot Abby a look to tell her not to say anything. (Y/N) looked between the two of them with a skeptical look on her face.
"Do you have a ride home?" Mike asked.
"If you're offering, then yes. I was supposed to wait around for my roommate to get me, but I'd much rather hang out with you guys and get out of here."
The three of them walked to Mike's car. Abby filled most of the silence by talking to (Y/N) about whatever came to her little mind. (Y/N) just smiled and responded as Abby spoke. Mike would sneak glances at her and smile to himself.
Abby got into the car first, and as Mike was reaching for the door handle to get in himself, (Y/N) said, "Wait."
He paused and looked up at her, confused.
"Why haven't you asked me out yet, Mike?"
The question took him completely by surprise, but that seemed to be her specialty at this point. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was some stuttered nonsense.
"I mean, if you don't like me then that's fine, I get it," she continued. "But I thought that maybe we had a connection, and I keep thinking you're going to ask me out and then you don't, and I'll be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit."
"Whoa, whoa," Mike said. "Slow down. I'm sorry that's how you're feeling, but I've been trying to ask you out. I did ask you out a few weeks ago!"
"That wasn't asking me out! You asked what I was doing and I said working. You didn't even follow up to try and figure out a different day we could've went out instead!"
"I didn't know I was supposed to do that!"
They both paused and, after a moment, they started to laugh.
"I'm clueless with this stuff," Mike admitted. "I haven't dated since high school."
"Well, here's a tip: if you like a girl, ask her out. Her liking you back is more likely than you'd think."
Mike smiled. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm sure it's not exactly the date you're thinking of, but Abby wants spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I do make a mean spaghetti and meatballs."
(Y/N) smiled back. It was brighter than her real smile. It was what Mike decided to dub her "Mike smile".
"I'd love to," she said. "I love spaghetti and meatballs."
Abby opened her car door then and looked between the two of them. "What's taking you so long?"
"Hey Abs, would it be okay if (Y/N) joined us for dinner?" Mike asked, although he already knew the answer.
Abby lit up with excitement and vigorously nodded her head. Mike and (Y/N) finally got into the car and they made their way back to Mike's place. The entire car ride he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x reader#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson imagine#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#fnaf imagine#imagine#one shot#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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Hiiii :3 can I request platonic headcanons of the brothers with MC who is a child/preteen? You pick which age you're more confident writing, but like in this 8-12 yrs range if possible, thank youuu🩷
I wasn't sure if to make the Mc be cursed or the Mc being chosen for the program while still being a child. I chose the later, hope you enjoy!
The little Mc! :
When the one stepping out of the portal was a 10 year old, he almost passed out.
Lucifer
This wasn't in the papers, at ALL. There is just no way this could've possibly happen, maybe a child stepped into the portal by accident?
But no, once the kid was questioned it was obvious they were the exchange student they were expecting.
Internal panic.
This kid can't go to the basically highschool for demons, and there are no schools in the Devildom.
He has a really stern talk with the brothers so they behave in front of them.
Depending on your behavior he may start to get more grey hairs or take a big liking to you.
In the end he ends up really attached to you.
Pampers you, and denies he does it.
"What?! I gotta take care of a kid?!"
Mammon
New babysitter for Mc. He at first dislikes it a ton, but he has a soft spot for kids so he doesn't take it on you, but you notice he is kinda mad.
Very overprotective. Not at first but with just a couple of days he really starts to like you and can't leave your side.
Will bother you to get a reaction, if you start crying he may even give you some Grimm.
Teaches you how to gamble and gets strung to the ceiling.
Gives you piggybacks.
He may involve you in money schemes at first but never putting you in any actual real harm.
Great. A little kid with sticky fingers.
Leviathan
He doesn't want you anywhere near his room at first, afraid that you will break his precious figurines or destroy his Manga collection.
He still forces you to watch Anime, but in the living room with him. Once you get a liking to it he even dresses you up as his favorite characters.
Once he realizes you won't purposefully break anything of his, he invites you to his room.
You are mesmerized by the pretty lights, the bathtub and the giant aquarium, you say hi to Henry and he melts.
He sees you looking everywhere with awe, and he feels very proud of himself.
From then, you start to play games in his room and carefully read his Mangas.
Lets you play with his tail in his demon form. He finds it kinda funny but gets grossed out when you put it in your mouth and cover it up with saliva. Eugh.
He is kind of curious about you and how you ended up in the Devildom, for Lucifer to make such an oversight is clearly extremely bizarre, almost imposible.
Satan
You kinda look at him with your big baby eyes and he looks back at you, until one of you stops staring and go back to their normal routine.
He is chosen by Lucifer to be your personal teacher. He complains but knows he has to do it.
He will try and teach you things to bother Lucifer, succeeding in some and failing in others.
But he also takes a lot of effort to learn about human culture and teach you the right things and needed things for your mental development.
Will read for you to fall asleep. Devildom fairy stories and others, you seem to like grim stuff too but he reads this stuff to you very rarely. Doesn't want you to be negatively affected.
Buys you a cat onesie and takes lots of pics. Super adorable.
He finds you extremely adorable and amusing, like a little pet.
Asmodeous
He will dress you up in the prettiests of clothings, with the most expensive perfume and hair decorations.
You seem upset and he doesn't understand at first. You explain you don't like being treated like a doll for his amusement.
He thought he was doing everything right?
He thinks about it hard and realizes that maybe being treated like a thing rather than a person must've hurt you.
He apologizes to you and offers to take you to eat something yummy.
He tries and know more about your likes and dislikes. About the shows you like, your favorite colors, the type of clothing you like.
He takes you to buy some pretty clothes of your choosing, and even gets you a cute haircut.
You feel better when you can also express yourself. But from time to time you let him dress you as he wishes, you even match clothings sometime.
Okay so at first a bit dangerous to be near him, considering he sees you as small and chubby and feels the urge to put you in his mouth.
Beelzebub
Once he controls the urges, he is very sweet and caring.
Kinda blunt when he talks, but not clueless. He is not dumb so he knows that he shouldn't say certain things, but considering he is quite honest he lets slip some stuff, but inmediatly notices and fixes it.
Will share his food with you and sit you on his lap while you eat, sorry if you get slobber on your head.
Will make sure you get proper exercise so you grow strong.
Will also take you on piggyback rides wherever you'd like.
Considering he has a younger brother, he grows attached to you very quickly and would give his life for you, and take others.
Belphegor
It depends. If this is an universe where Belphegor doesn't have a vendetta against humans, he may not care too much at first, but then begins to like you.
He would take naps with you, and help you draw and color stuff.
He is the youngest brother, so he may teach you how to get away with being a brat, much to Lucifer's dismay.
Now. If it's the og timeline Belphie?
Things are difficult. He will still try and trick you into doing the pacts with his brothers. And you're a child, so you'd probably believe him.
He does feel more guilty about wanting to kill you, but in the end commits regardless.
It's up to you to forgive him or not. He did kill a child after all.
The brothers are all shocked at him, and disgusted.
It takes a while before things settle down after discovering you're Lilith's descendant.
They're very wary of leaving you with him in a room, in case he tries to hurt you.
But Belphegor feels extremely guilty. It eats him alive, he can't believe that his rage for humanity would make him kill a literal kid.
He tries to make it up to you by being present in your life. Helping you get ready on your day to day life. Taking you places you need to go, pampering you.
It's still up to you if you'll ever forgive him. Perhaps you do, but you'll never forget it.
You can still have a nice relationship with him though, it's not the end of the world. And your life is just beginning.
#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me nightbringer#obey me satan#Obey me asmodeous#Obey me shall we date#Omswd
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Izuku taking Care of You When your Sick
Izuku, when he first finds out when your sick he panics, straight panics. No thoughts just absolutely freaking out. Once he calms down he’s right by your side, checking your temperature, opening every window if you feel hot and then bundling you up so you don’t become freezing.
Izuku, goes right to Bakugo, practically on his knees begging him to help him cook you something to make you feel better. Once Bakugo finally gives in he’s already in the kitchen trying to do as much as possible. After a long while of him getting yelled at by Bakugo about what spices and seasonings he can and can’t use, and what they were even making he rushes it straight to you. (Also insists that he feed you)
Izuku, who suggested multiple times that he should skip class just to take of you and make sure your safe.
Izuku, who makes a deal to come see you every break between classes he can get. Will literally leave the classroom and sprint straight to your dorm room during lunch just to make sure you eat and rest.
Izuku, who won’t let you leave your bed unless you really need to. You need something that less than a foot away from you, he’s grabbing it and giving it to you. You need to use the restroom, he’s walking you to and from there.
Izuku, who will cuddle you throughout the night, not caring if he gets sick in the process, he just wants to hold you and keep you safe.
Izuku, that would gladly hold your hair up/back if you were puking, then not even 30 seconds later running you a bath and going to the common room to get you food/fluids.
Izuku, who, if your muscles or limbs ached really badly, he would in a heartbeat massage them and run you a hot bath right after.
Izuku, while your resting would call his mom and ask her what medicine he needs to help you feel better, then once he hangs up he’s running to the nearest drug store to get those for you.
Izuku, who is literally begging Aizawa to let him bring you your home/school work just to basically do all of it for you. (Aizawa knows but just let’s it slide)
Izuku, the cinnamon roll who would literally be the best care taker for you when your sick.
#izuku midoriya#mha izuku#bnha izuku#izuku midoria x reader#izuku x reader#izuku x y/n#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#deku#deku x reader#deku x y/n#headcanon#sickfic
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new headcanons!
☆ THE POETS AT THE CINEMA ☆
(this got really long bc i love them so much aahhhh i hope you enjoy these headcanons as much as i do-)
CHARLIE: his favourite genre is comedy, plus movies about outlaws and teen rebels, says "so me" all through the film. oh yeah he doesn't shut up ever, talks the whole time until someone tells him to please stop talking because the movie's more interesting than how he'd dress as a pirate. every time there's a kissing scene, he turns to the poet sitting next to him and wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk. a nightmare to clean up after, his popcorn ends up all over the floor and himself. BUT all this doesn't apply to emotional movies. if a movie is sad, charlie is silent the entire time, doesn't crack a joke once and comes out of it with half his popcorn left.
KNOX: cries when watching romance, tells the poets he's not crying!! just the dry air of the cinema getting to him. insists on taking pictures of them in front of the movie poster. has accidentally thrown his ticket away instead of the receipt on several occasions. if there are cardboard cut-outs of characters at the cinema, he needs to take pics with all of them. eats a strange mixture of snacks, popcorn, pretzels and ice cream. asks "whAT?" at least five times through the movie bc he can't follow the plot. really fun to watch a movie with because he'll audibly gasp at every plot twist. idk him at the cinema is really cute guys i swear.
PITTS: needs a toilet break three times throughout the movie (tall guy small bladder king). his legs get cramps from the rows being too narrow but he doesn't care, pittsie LOVES going to the cinema. will most often go with knox and meeks, they're the best film trio. knows loads of lore about all sci-fi movies they watch, and acts annoyed at people asking questions because OF COURSE ni-bo64 has to destroy Leobor. eats salty snacks and always chooses the biggest cup of soda (meeks points this out every time pittsie has to squeeze around him to go to the toilet). loudly shouts "YES" when something he approves of happens. is the best sport about charlie's smirks in kissing scenes, he just like puts his hand on charlie's thigh really slowly and mouths 'hi'.
MEEKS: really likes movies with a hidden message, is the only one charlie will watch emotional movies with. but also just a huge nerd, him and pittsie watch sci-fi stuff together and then talk about every plot point for an hour. ORANGE SODA. really big fan of good film music. can't sit still and always steals the arm rest. doesn't talk but says "WHAT??" way too loud when a plothole occurs or a thing he was hoping for doesn't happen. is the one to buy the tickets.
NEIL: loves the comfy velvet seats. always has half a breakdown about "omg maybe i should go into film instead of stage acting??" after seeing a movie he really likes. is a little movie nerd, especially for superhero movies! loves the moment of stepping out of the cinema into the fresh night air. his snack is sweet popcorn or gummy bears. gets so excited when something cool is about to happen, he's waving his arms and being like "oh- ooohhhh- oooohhhhhh" until the cool thing actually happens. makes sure everyone has their tickets (goes into airport dad mode). laughs a lot and looks around at all the poets like "did you see that??" as if they're not all watching the same movie.
TODD: too anxious to complain about sitting behind a tall person, he'll often try to sit on top of his balled-up jacket to be a bit taller and see enough of the screen. pitts notices after a while and is like "hey todd, could we swap seats? i'd love to sit next to knox". todd only realises what that was about a few hours later and is silently soo grateful for pitts not embarrassing him. likes artsy movies where not a lot happens, and LOVES reruns bc then he already knows the plot and can relax. doesn't ever talk throughout the movie but laughs SO MUCH. mouths the lines when he already knows a movie. when there's a kissing scene he'll get embarrassed. doesn't buy snacks cos they're "too loud" and then eats all the other poets' snacks. every time. likes watching the ads before the movie.
CAMERON: asks "does anyone need to go to the bathroom before the movie starts" like fifty times before they watch the movie. hates sitting next to strangers during the movie because then he's always hyper aware of his behaviour and can't really focus on the film. likes historical movies and will watch them with todd (no one can tell me todd/cameron friendship isn't real, it makes so much sense). salty popcorn kinda guy. knows the names of all the actors and actresses.
#dead poets society#dps fandom#dead poets headcanons#i woke up from my nap and needed to talk about my boys#oh also thanks greenie for your kind words about my exam and sleep#to the people who have asked about the podcast#(yes i am aware that it was only two BUT STILL)#i won't be able to do anything until after i've finished my exams#but i have a really fun concept for that podcast i think!#so it will happen! just after my finals#didn't already wanna make a post about it bc i don't wanna get people's hopes up#dps#dps headcanons
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Helpless part 40, It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us
"Neeks, you awake?"
"What time is it?" The Hades child mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face.
"11:24."
"How the fuck am I still tired?"
"Because you still need to catch up on sleep and you're off drugs medical and others after a while so you're still adjusting."
"I'll be honest I didn't process half of that." Will rolled his eyes teasingly, walking over to mess up his hair more than it already was. Will started to look through some files he'd brought in with himself as Nico started to get ready,
"Can I braid your hair?"
"You know how to braid?"
"Not very well, but Kayla made me learn a few years ago before she had to let Aussi cut her hair on a dare."
"I can imagine how well that went, but sure." Will sat next to him, brushing out and parting his hair before starting to do a french braid. "Do you have the second volume of Heartstopper?" Will laughed, quickly kissing Nico on the cheek.
"I can't believe I thought you were straight but yes, I have all the books."
"I can't believe I thought you were straight."
"Think you were the only one Neeks."
"Oh shut up Solace."
"Don't think I will di Angelo."
"Gods save me."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Nothing." He answered almost instantly,
"Not an option."
"I'm not hungry." He promptly ignored him and pulled out three ceral bars from his pocket,
"Pick one."
"Leave me alone."
"Do you feel sick?"
"I- I- just... can't, drop it William."
"I'll leave them here, just eat when you can, alright?" He said, half hugging him.
"Fine."
"Nico, have you considered talking to someone? Maybe keeping a journal as well?"
"Only if you'll also get help." He couldn't think of something he wanted to do less but Will needed help, desperately.
"It's not your job to worry about me."
"Will, I'm your boyfriend, it really is."
"Are you comfortable with the idea of talking to someone?" He was fine, he knew he was worthless what's the point of lying to himself.
"N-no." Fuck, this wasn't going the way he hoped.
"Nico, you don't need to do anything that you aren't comfortable with, that won't help. Also... I'm sorry about last night.. I- it's- yeah I'm just sorry."
"Will, no one's perfect, you need help, please, just try to."
"Neeks, I'm fine, really. I was just shocked last night and yeah, there have been a lot of people in the infirmary because of the war normally it's just less hectic." Lying through his teeth, he hated himself for it but that's fine, just another thing to add to the endless list. He wasn't Nico's responsibility, he doesn't need anything else on his mind.
"Just, take a break every now and then, I swear you're always working."
"Actually Kayla's ban me from working for the rest of the week soooooo."
"Good, you need it. Wait does that mean I don't get to see you for a week?"
"Nope, you can't get rid of me that easily. Apparently I'm too much of a simp for that, but I have a feeling she's timing it to make sure I don't spend the whole day here."
"I can see that happening, but you need a break so she is completely right."
"I really hate you sometimes di Anglo."
"I know." He whispers, blowing the son of Apollo a kiss.
"Solace, times up!"
"Better go Sunshine, also... I'll try journaling, I don't know if it'll help but I'll try."
"I'm proud of you Neeks," He ruffled his hair before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he kissed him back, wrapping his hands around his neck."I'll see you soon."
***
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson fandom#nico di angelo#pjo#fanfic#will solace#solangelo#annabeth chase#fanfiction#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson fan fiction#percy jackson fic#percy jackson fanfiction#percyjackson#fan fic writing#fan fic#fan fiction#solangelo fic#my fic#fic writing#solangelo fanfic#solangelo fanfiction#gay#leo valdez#reyna avila ramirez arellano#jason grace#piper mclean#frank zhang#hazel levesque
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Assistant Noah's World Tour!
After France...
Alejandro made sure to treat Owen decently this time.
It wasn't enough to make Noah stop giving him the silent treatment, but it was enough to make Noah stop glaring at him.
After the Amazons win the challenge, the plane apparently needs a few hours for repairs before taking off... it was the perfect opportunity to make up with Noah.
"Hey Noah, since we have some time, would you like to get some sweets and see the Eifel Tower with me?" Alejandro asked, his voice smooth as honey.
Noah hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the sudden request. He glanced at Alejandro, noticing the genuine excitement in his green eyes. But Noah only said yes, cause he was hungry and curious to try some fancy desserts.
Noah nods, embarrassed to hear a small growl from his stomach. "Fine, I could use the break from everything. But you're paying."
They find a small, but fancy bakery and eat some cupcakes with icing flowers with coffee.
As they eat, Alejandro can't stop looking at the small, pleased smile on Noah's face. It was working. He was winning Noah over.
When they finished eating, they stayed in their seats for a bit, asking questions and getting to know each other. Alejandro talked about his love of dinosaurs and puppets, while Noah confessed about his secret fondness of planes and rockets and fluffy animals. Alejandro couldn't help, but genuinely laugh at the irony, considering how much Noah hates the giant and unstable plane they were forced to fly in.
Then they walked towards the Eifel Tower. As they approached, Noah couldn't help but feel a surge of awe. The tower loomed over them, impossibly tall and elegant. Even though he'd seen pictures of it before, nothing could prepare him for the sheer scale of it in real life.
When Alejandro wrapped an arm around Noah, the assistant allowed it while gazing at the tower. But then Alejandro wrapped his other arm around Noah, practically giving him a hug. Noah turned around, while still trapped in the taller man's arms.
"Alejandro, what are you doing? I keep telling you that flirting with me isn't gonna give you benefits. What could you possibly hope to gain?" Noah asks with a tired yet firm voice. He feels a blush creeping onto his cheeks, though, as he's pressed so close against the taller man.
Alejandro smirks, despite having a light blush of his own. "Maybe what I want to gain is your attention."
"What?" Noah's eyes widened at this, so many conflicting emotions swirling inside them.
That's when the Eifel Tower lights up, surrounding the area in a beautiful romantic light.
Noah and Alejandro silently gaze into each other's eyes, lost in the haze of the city of love. Not even they are immune to it's great power. Their faces relax as they stare blankly at each other. It feels as if time has slowed down, the world around them fading away into nothing but the two of them. The romantic light making their bodies and minds feel pleasantly warm.
Alejandro then begins to lean in for a kiss. Noah somewhat wakes up from his daze to lean away from the charming spanish man's lips. But the taller man follows his lips, while still holding Noah close. It almost looked like Alejandro was dipping him. The book-loving assistant had to think fast, before their lips make contact.
Noah grabs the charm on Alejandro's necklace and presses it against the charmer's puckered lips.
Alejandro opens his eyes in dazed confusion.
Noah smiles and uses his other hand to playfully rub his captor's cheek. "Did you really think it was gonna be that easy, eel?"
Alejandro removes his lips from the charm and smiles back. "Why no, of course not. But I do love a challenge, my little porpoise.~"
Noah gets a kiss on his nose, before he could stop it.
Alejandro got kicked in the stomach, as a result.
The taller man considers it progress, that it wasn't the kiwis that Noah hit instead.
At least the diablo is talking to him again.
#assistant noah's world tour#assistant noah#total drama#total drama world tour#td noah#alejandro burromuerto#alenoah
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Eyoooo, thanks for answering my last ask!!! anyways, gotta new one for ya, same groups if ya able but with a really pretty/attractive mc s/o like manhwa mc level kinda pretty. I can imagine kaito being somewhere along the lines of 'they tossed me over their shoulder and I've been on it ever since' with a little touch of internal screaming. I just wanna see if any of the boys would be flustered or have their ego stroked with having a really pretty s/o -👾
Thanks for sending asks in fam! This will be fun since I have so many ideas for these boys!
JIN KAMURAI
Being honest, his ego is entirely stroked by an attractive MC.
The one thing he finds a pain in the ass is all the gossip. He's always hearing some baseless rumor that someone is cheating or MC got surgery done or whatever.
It pisses him off to hear people talk about his beautiful/handsome partner like that.
Whenever he gets the chance to show MC off, he does and he makes sure their outfits are to DIE for.
Congrats! MC will most likely be spoiled with a new fancy wardrobe. (He would do this with any serious partner but it's AMPLIFIED with an extra attractive MC)
Whatever they need for their skincare or whatever routine they need. He'll take care of it. Just give him a list and he'll get someone on it ASAP.
TOHMA ISHIBASHI
The ego boost this man gets! OH MAH GOD!
He's not shy and he knows what he's about so he's not necessarily flustered, but he's definitely proud to land such an amazing looking partner.
A lot of others start referring to MC as royalty once they start dating, they start it sarcastically of course but when Tohma hears it, he flips it right on its head.
I mean like, using it to fluster MC: bowing, taking their coat, carrying things, etc (again, he'd be doing that stuff anyways) but he would take the time to fluster MC at the same time.
What i mean is like kissing the back of their palm and whispering against their skin something along the lines of,
"Only the best for my Prince/my Princess/ your Majesty/etc"
KAITO FUJI
Kaito does not know how the hell he got here with them but he doesn't give a single fuck.
He will spend the first part of this new relationship in all of the self doubt, because In his mind, this could be a prank or some kind of mistake. But when MC shows him that, no baby girl this isn't a mistake..? Mans here thinks he's died and that MC really is his guardian angel.
He will try to spend what money he has to try and spoil them how he thinks they deserve. He's just really trying his best.
When Frostheim throws their fancy ass balls, Kaito is BEAMING with pride. Yeah, he's on the arm of the best looking person here! Eat it!
And when they dance with him, there is so much internal screaming going on. He's worried he's gonna mess up and make MC look dumb, but with some time he'll loosen up and have some fun.
LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"
Okay, another one with gossip. But its surprising not about the relationship itself. Its about each individual.
I think Luca and MC have separate fan clubs. I'm sure We've all seen that Luca has fans at the school. an extra attractive MC for sure has one too.
It all started with the two fanclubs talking shit about the other and spreading rumors. Like the usual rumors about cheating, or about how they don't deserve the other, etc.
However, there is a small part in each club that joined forces to try and spread gossip to break them up.
Ofc it doesn't work, Luca and his partner trust each other and do their best to communicate, so it doesn't really effect the happy couple all too much. I mean if you're gonna be subjugating a demon together, there's a LOT of mutual trust going on there.
ALAN MIDO
Alan would be a bit more protective of his partner, because in his experience (*cough cough* LEO *COUGH*) more attractive people, aren't really fighters.
If and when MC manages to prove themselves capable in a fight, he'll back off a little bit, but he'll still be a little protective.
He'd try to do things he thinks MC would like, that he's not the most comfortable with. Like fancier dates, dressing up, going out, etc.
If MC wants to squash that, they gotta do it RIGHT AWAY, since in his mind, they're more attractive so they've gotta like the fancier stuff...right?
SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"
Sho is a guy who will take them out for rides on Bonnie (his bike) but he doesn't really care about their appearance.
Sure its a plus and all, but he doesn't care if their hair looks really good today, they're wearing a damn helmet when they go on rides.
He figures MC knows their stuff when it comes to appealing design, so he values their opinion on his project (those who know, know). He takes all their critiques on the chin and does his best to listen.
its still his so he won't let them change it entirely, but he'll for sure keep it in mind.
LEO KUROSAGI
Okay if you think Luca and Jin fans were wildin, Leo's fanclub is WAY worse.
To start off, Leo will do small things with MC. Probably not show their amazing face too much.
It's a mix between wanting to keep things as private as possible and keeping them all to himself.
The internet being the internet, someone eventually got a pic of them together and people figured out that MC was this mysterious partner that Leo has been hiding.
Once the secret is out, he's full on bringing them into his content, like get ready with me's, matching outfit checks, etc.
On the down side, there's a LOT of MC haters out there. Leo typically ignores those comments, he figures their just jealous (of him or MC im not sure)
But if anyone even TRIED to threaten or do his MC. they're done. Their reputation might as well be in the trash. Leo is absolutely not above blackmailing someone to get what he wants so good luck to whoever fucked up that bad.
#tokyo debunker#frostheim#headcanons#Vagastrom#jin kamurai#tokyo debunker headcanons#tohma ishibashi#kaito fuji#luca#lucas errant#alan mido#shohei haizono#sho#leo kurosagi
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from the first hi to the first i love you, chapter I:
the first time we stayed alone (but in the crowd)
mason mount series
genre: angst, fluff, smut, comedy attempts
warnings: language
word count: 2,7k
a/n: god knows i wanted it to be a one-shot thing, but then i realized how many chapter ideas i got, so i didn't want to rush and make it look like a brief description of each timeline. please, please tell me what you think about it 🤧 all genres and warnings will depend on a chapter!! (the story starts on may, 14th, 2023)
"Babe, I'm really sorry, but they'll eat me alive if I don't finish it in time," your best friend, Sonia, says with pleading eyes, and you pout. You came to London from Manchester to spend your week off with her, but her boss had different plans. "I know, I promised you a fantastic time here, so I've figured things out for tonight."
"How so?" the interest in your voice is genuine.
"I asked Mason to take you out today, so get ready for The National Gallery, the tickets are already boug-"
"Whoa, stop talking so fast – I know you want to confuse me so I will say yes," you place both of your hands on the kitchen table to steady yourself – mentally. Sonia looks closely at you across the table, so you continue. "Firstly, my fantastic time can only be spent with my best friend, not with her husband's friend."
"But you've known each other for around three years," she scowls. "He gave you so many rides."
"When I was with you," you protest. "When your Ricky was with us. And, secondly, The National Gallery? I can admire you, sitting in front of your computer, with the same pleasure."
"No, you’re going with Mason. You need to get out. Besides, he already bought the tickets. When he’s done at the training center, he will pick you up – so you have, like, two hours to get ready."
You sigh. Sonia feels guilty for not being the best entertainer – but you never expected her to be one. Still, she comes up with the weird decision you can’t decline yourself, because then you will be the one who feels guilty. Also, you are pretty sure Mason said yes to her for the same reasons.
Mason is a nice, polite, funny guy with warm doe eyes and a perfect nose. But he is not your friend. You don’t really know how to act around him – partly because you are sure that if not for Ricky, your paths will never cross. He is from a different planet – a planet of fame, interviews on national channels, trips all around the globe, and big money. And you don’t have a rocket to visit this faraway planet.
There is another reason to avoid him like a plague, though.
You have a little – or medium-sized – crush on him and you can’t allow it to gain any control over your brain. Or your heart especially.
"Do you want me to help you with your hair?" Sonia asks you, and you narrow your eyes at her through the bathroom mirror.
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" you huff, wrapping a strand of your hair around the barrel of the curling iron.
"I took a break," she rolls her eyes. "It's like you're getting ready for prom and the school heartthrob is already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. I can't miss it."
You shake your head at her giggles. "You're acting like a crazy teenager."
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because you're funny!" you exclaim. "It's just Mason, and suddenly you're making a big deal out of it."
"But you're finally getting to the next level with him," Sonia raises her eyebrows, and you finally turn to face her, finished with your preparations.
"Yeah, from getting lifts anytime I'm in London to going to museums without even planning and wanting it. Besides, don't forget there is Jacob back in Manchester."
"Yeah," she rolls her eyes for the second time in less than three minutes. "When was the last time you saw him? Two weeks ago? Three? Sounds legit, for sure. Absolutely worthy."
Your weak attempt to disagree is killed with the sound of the intercom, and you're relieved you don't have to come up with delusional excuses to make your (almost) relationship with Jacob look not that bad as it is in reality.
You really like him, and you're so ready to open your heart to him – if you haven't done it already – but the local DJ (and you're wondering why this pathetic fact of him still doesn't give you an ick) is too busy, afraid, or just stupid to commit to anyone.
Or just to you. Or it's you who are just stupid.
"The heartthrob's here!" Sonia yelps, already pressing the button to let Mason in. You've never seen her move that fast. She was the worst at PE in high school.
"Oh dear God," you sigh, while putting on your jacket. Well, it's way easier to act annoyed when your knees are weak because of how nervous you are. You're right, you tell yourself, a very pale version of yourself in the mirror, it's just Mason, the old good lad Mason, and you're just making yourself crazy for nothing. At the end of the day, you really like Mason and don't want your frustration to be projected onto him.
Things with Jacob will get better, and even if Mason isn't your friend, you can still have a good time together tonight. And he can become your friend. And just the thought of it makes your heart swell.
"Hi there," you turn your head toward his gentle voice, always remembering how surprised you were the first time you heard him speak. His voice is so delicate and warm — the exact opposite of how manly he looks.
"Hi," you return his smile, letting him pull you in for a side hug.
"I didn't know you were in London until yesterday," Mason says.
"Yeah, because you weren't on my bingo card," you muse. "But the best event planner ever knows better, I suppose."
"Oh, get out already and let me work and you have fun. And don't come back earlier than after 4 hours. You know the directions, Mason, so take my bestie and go," Sonia taps on the wall next to the front door.
"Never felt more welcomed, bestie," you say, following Mason out of the apartment. And while he's standing in front of the lift, pressing the silver button, you turn to Sonia to whisper, "Text me every two minutes, so he won't think I'm some sort of hermit."
"Constant notifications can kill the vibe," she whispers back.
"What the fuck?" you make your words audible only for her. "That makes no sense."
"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the metal carriage is waiting," Mason distracts you, and Sonia takes this opportunity to shut the front door of her apartment. "After you," he gestures for you to step into the lift first, and you can't help but smile at him, entering the cabin.
The doors are closed now, and you're standing extremely close to him so you can smell his cologne – magnetic and just... Delicious.
"I like your perfume," you blurt out. "Is it Tom Ford?"
He hums in agreement, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "You're lucky, I took a shower after training. Just for you."
"How thoughtful," you reply. "But if I'm really lucky today, the universe will spare me from your amazing jokes."
"Nah, you're not that lucky, sorry," and with this, your trip through eighteen floors of the building is over. "Buckle up and let's explore the art. But let me warn you," he places his hand on your shoulder in a secretive manner and whispers in your ear, "The real art is you and me, so be ready – people will stare."
"Are we late?" you ask, and Mason just shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, totally unsure. The doors of the gallery are closed, despite his several attempts to pull and push the door handles.
"It seems to be fate," Mason says with a smile. "So, Starbucks for starters?"
"Just admit you manifested it," you follow him, silently appreciating that he slowed his usual pace for you. "I doubt you ever wanted to go here."
"Yeah, that's why I picked you up at five o'clock – I knew they close at six."
"Really?!"
Mason stops and looks at you in pure disbelief, "Of course not," he huffs. "It was sarcasm," he explains, but can't suppress a giggle escaping his mouth.
"You're so unserious," now it's your turn to huff, but when he places his hand on your lower back while you cross the road at the green light, you're suddenly out of words.
Your skin burns at this spot despite two layers of clothes – not a good sign at all. But the questions that are generated in your head – oh, they're even worse. Why does he do it? To make sure you're matching his pace? Does he want you to be safe? Did Sonia ask him to do so? Do all well-mannered men do it?
Does he like you?
The disgustingly sweet coffee you both ordered at Starbucks helps you get rid of these confusing and unnecessary thoughts. Not for long, unfortunately.
"I can feel my teeth rotting at this moment," Mason moans after taking a sip from his cardboard cup. "But it's so good. Let me taste yours."
You willingly hand him your cup, and he wraps his palm around yours, positioning both of your hands higher – this simple action makes you hold your breath without even realising it.
"Wow, that was easy to get," he laughs and wraps his lips around the straw.
"Drink it already," you roll your eyes. "And I will start praying that you don’t have any contagious diseases."
He makes a face at you, swallowing the coffee like it's fish oil – or something even worse tasting. "You should have warned me – it's terrible. Right now, I'm doing my best not to stick out my tongue in disgust."
"Oh, Mason, you're so brave. Thank you for telling us your story," your hand slides out of his tender grip as you continue to walk. "For the record, mine has one syrup less than yours."
"It's what you call a difference maker."
"Stop it already, I know it's a reference to you on the pitch," you laugh. You genuinely laugh. Mason is effortlessly funny – you knew it already, but today you finally had a chance to experience it to the maximum. And he's witty too – amazing with words, and you really like the way he talks – passionately, but in a calm voice, looking straight in your eyes, following every reaction of yours.
Mason closes the distance between the two of you in one wide step and lowers his head to your level. "By the way, I don't have any diseases," his whisper causes goosebumps all over the skin of your neck and you hum in response. "For the future."
The future and you are divided by a distance, you think, while Mason and you, at least at this moment, are not.
He insisted that you have to sit not across from each other at this fancy restaurant in the heart of London, but next to each other, and you silently agree, not wanting to miss the opportunity to feel him closer. His shoulder brushes yours when he's slicing the steak, and you turn your head to him.
"Did you make the reservation months in advance or did your fame help you sneak in ahead of turn?"
Mason just smiles at you, even though he's not happy that you asked the question while he's chewing and can't respond to your words, and you raise your brow.
"I'm surprised you're not talking with your mouth full," you mock him, and he playfully rolls his eyes.
"I booked it three months in advance," he says as you thankfully nod at the waiter refilling your glass of wine. "Three months ago, I knew that May fourteenth would be marked as our first date on my wall calendar."
"Oh, that infamous Mason's wall calendar with pictures of kittens?" you half expected him to say something along those lines, something bold yet simple, but what you didn't expect was him handing you his fork with a slice of meat on it. The gesture was nice, caring, and... heartwarming?
"Kittens in flower gardens," Mason corrects you as a content smile appears on his features when you take the slice off the fork and into your mouth, chewing slowly.
The food is great, the wine is even better, and your entertainer is one of England's most eligible bachelors. Sometimes life is good.
"It's a shame you can't drink," you whine, holding Mason by his forearms, and he shows his perfect teeth, still not destroyed by the sugary coffee he had, in a wide smile.
"Let's drink when I'm on summer break?" he suggests, his hands rubbing your sides. His chocolate eyes follow yours, and you can't help but get magnetised by his soft gaze. He calls your name softly, feeling that he has to get the needed answer from you. "So, how does it sound?"
"See you on your summer break then," you lightly pat his chest and he laughs.
"What about before? You know I'm all fun even sober."
"Let's see, Mason. It's not like I have a door in my Manchester flat that leads me directly to you."
"It's changeable, though," he says, looking above your head. It feels like he's talking more to himself than to you, but you elaborate anyway.
"Changeable? Mason Mount, are you a constructor of a teleportation machine?" you ask in mock disbelief.
"Maybe so," he plays along, and you laugh. Suddenly, after five glasses of fine wine, everything Mason says sounds even funnier than before.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you mirror his motion, holding onto his waist.
"Thank you for today," your voice is muffled as you mumble into his beige bomber jacket – which smells just so amazing, enveloping you in an aroma cloud. "I really liked it."
"So did I," Mason says, and you're thankful he doesn't reject your clingiest side, never breaking the hug you dragged him into in the first place. "Pinky promise we will go out more?"
"Sure, but I'm done for today," you say. "It's a good thing you didn't drink, though – at least I have you as my personal driver back home."
"Oh, look at you," he imitates an adoring voice. "Making me feel so needed and desired."
"In high demand, yep," you confirm. "Promise me I'm your favorite passenger."
You can feel Mason pulling back from the hug so he can raise his pinky, and you shove off his hand with a smile. The dark-haired man smiles back at you, so sweet and tender – it makes your poor heart beat a hundred times faster.
"Oh my god," Sonia squeezes you in a hug as soon as you get to her apartment. "You look so happy! And... Wait a second, are you drunk?"
"Not drunk, just a little tipsy, that's all, but-"
You tell her everything, trying not to sound too excited, and Sonia, being the best friend ever, asks for every possible and impossible detail. Seizing the opportunity, you ask the same question you asked Mason in the restaurant.
"Does it matter?" Sonia asks in return. "Other things are way more important!"
"No, they're not. What if the only reason we ended up in this restaurant was that he was dumped by someone? Or did he dump someone? And here I am, just a backup plan."
"Oh, shit," Sonia breathes out, and you lift your head, your fingers stopping their random patterns on the soft material of the cushion. Well, you’re anxious now. "You're already thinking about it, aren’t you?"
You roll your eyes as she laughs, but when you stay silent, she goes on. "I’m pretty sure he’s famous and rich enough to get a reservation in four hours max. You had a wonderful evening – all kudos to me – so don’t spoil the aftertaste with your thoughts!"
"Yeah, my thoughts… Completely unnecessary as always," you laugh, raising your hands in defeat.
It was a wonderful evening, and you even want to jokingly think that this evening proves that all "bros before hoes" manifestos can be thrown out of the window, but, in reality, you can’t. Because Mason, as you thought before, is closer to becoming your bro than anything else. But at the end of the day, the distance will divide Mason and you again. You and your long-distance friend.
#mason mount scenarios#mason mount#mason mount scenario#mason mount imagine#mason mount imagines#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fluff#mason mount x reader#mason mount x y/n
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Undiscovered [4/?]
Summary: All Blaine Anderson needs is a little help to put himself through school. That’s all. But he’s going to get so much more than he hoped for when he meets Kurt Hummel, the successful, sexy workaholic who in turn needs someone to make the loneliness disappear.
Wordcount: 7459.
Read it on AO3.
“I know what that smile means.”
Kurt looked up from his phone to find Santana smirking at him from across the conference room table. He hadn’t even noticed he was smiling until she pointed it out. He cleared his throat and tried to school his face into something different – focused or serious or anything, really…
“It’s cute that you’re trying to hide it,” she said. “That means there’s definitely something juicy going on that you don’t want me to know about…”
“If I don’t want you to know about it, wouldn’t it make you a great friend to stop asking and let me get on with my day?” Kurt asked.
Santana snorted, like that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever said. “Please. Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”
Kurt sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. Was this his fourth or his fifth? He wasn’t sure. It had been a long morning and even though it was lunch time, it didn’t look like he was going to take a break to eat any time soon. The files piled on the table and the court date they had the following day loomed over them – it was a big case and they didn’t want to blow it up.
But Santana always took time off for a little gossip. It was like she fed on it.
“There’s not much to tell,” Kurt said vaguely.
His phone buzzed right at that moment.
Santana quirked an eyebrow at him. “That thing’s been on fire all morning. You don’t give your personal number to clients, and your dad prefers to call. Rachel usually texts the group chat and I have no messages from her. So unless something’s going on with the campaign, and I don’t think it is, because you look far too pleased and relaxed for it to be campaign-related, I’m pretty sure it’s a guy.” God, he hated her.
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