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beezusvreeland · 1 year ago

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a very good idea - chapter 11

summary: After your boyfriend cheats on you at a party, you break up with him, who tells you nobody else is willing to be with you like him. You decide to prove him wrong, with a little help from a new friend.

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader

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Chapter 11

It was Miguel’s last middle school dance. It was also the last time he would see several of his classmates, who would be going to different high schools next year. It was the ending of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. He should’ve been having fun, like he had so many times before, but that night was unlike any other.

Miguel fucked up. Big time. The truth is he didn’t even realize what he was doing until it was too late. He felt terrible for hurting people he cared about, especially because, for the first time in his life, just apologizing wasn’t enough to fix things. They never wanted to see his face again — which Miguel didn’t blame them for. There was a part of him, one he was sort of ashamed of, that struggled with the idea of not being liked by everyone. That had never been a problem for him. But life was changing. Quickly. He felt like he had gone through several phases just that week. He had a hard time recognizing himself those days.

Instead of being at the gym, which had been transformed with decorations regarding the theme “A night to remember”, dancing with his friends and flirting with girls, Miguel was outside, sitting on a bench in front of school. The palms of his hands were covering his knees and he hung his head low, trying to recover from the sensory overload the celebration had brought him. It would have been better for everyone if he had stayed at home. Maybe it would’ve been easier to move on that way.

“Oof!”, Miguel heard someone sitting on the bench next to him. He didn’t move, not having it in him to interact with anyone else that night.

“Good thing I found you, I wanted to thank you for making this night less boring to me.”

Miguel’s curiosity won and he jerked his head to the side. It was you. And you were smiling at him. And just like that, all the work he had been doing to not fall apart disappeared, his body going into its severe nervous mode. Usually he would do his best to avoid this, you weren’t in his friendship circle and mostly kept it to yourself so, at school, you ignored each other’s presence.

It wasn’t easy, though. You and Miguel had several classes together and, every now and then, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You always sat in the third chair of the last row, close enough to the board to pay attention to the teachers, but not so much where you would stand out. With your several pens — as time went by, you would select a few to use each day, but still kept your full pencil case inside your backpack —, you were always taking notes, looking up very few times because you were so focused on the lesson. He loved how you always fooled yourself going to school with your hair down, just to put it up in a bun or a braid a few minutes into the first class of the day.

Sometimes Miguel would catch himself wondering how he could start a conversation with you. He knew you were nice and so shy, your face and neck would always get red when you received any type of attention you weren’t used to, which already wasn’t much. But he also knew that the people he hung out with didn’t like you very much. Miguel didn’t understand why, but with time he learned that it was easier if he didn’t question it, so he did his best to ignore you instead.

The only exception, the one excuse he had to talk to you without creating a fuss, was when he would tell you he forgot or lost his pen, could he maybe borrow one of yours? You always said yes. It made his heart ache of pain and happiness. He was always extra careful with your pens, he couldn’t risk the only opportunity he had to interact with you guilt free.

In seventh grade, there was this one time where Dana, his then girlfriend, got the pen from Miguel’s table when he was outside filling his water bottle. When he came back and didn’t find the pen, the boy lost his mind, acting like he had just lost a crown jewel. Dana ended up giving the pen back to him and they had a huge fight — he was mad because she took the pen and she was furious with the way he reacted to losing an object that belonged to you.

Seeing you at the dance was surprising, you never went to those things. Yet there you were, with half of your hair up and a few dots of glitter sparkling on your face. Looking at him.

“Sorry…?”

“I don’t know what you did to make those girls so angry, but hell, it was very entertaining anyways”, you chuckled, opening your purse in search of something.

Miguel wasn’t surprised the gossip had reached you, but it did bother him. He didn’t want you to think ill of him.

“Well, you know, I was in one of the stalls inside the girl’s bathroom when Dana and Xina started arguing”, you undid your hairdo and started working on a side braid. Your boldness was strange to Miguel — as was your slurred speech.

“Shit”, he looked away when your eyes found his. “We already argued about it earlier.”

“Is that why you are here?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“I always get so bored out here. I’ve tried bringing crosswords and books with me, but my mom won’t let me.” You turned to him and said: “The awful vodka O’Reilly thinks no one notices him pouring on the punch is usually my only source of entertainment”.

“Are you drunk?”, Miguel couldn’t decide whether he was angry or amused.

“I don’t know, Miguel. Did you date those two girls at the same time?” Your eyes widened as soon as the words left your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean…”, you grabbed Miguel’s arm. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I get it”, is what he said, but all he could think about was the heat left from your touch on his skin. After a few moments of silence, Miguel said: “There was some overlap between my time with Dana and Xina. Dana and I hadn’t gotten back officially and then things with Xina…just happened.”

He looked at you, you were playing with the tulle of your lilac dress. It wasn’t right, he knew it, but seeing the serious expression on your face was the most painful thing to come out of that whole story.

“It’s not an excuse or anything, I know I was wrong”, Miguel was quick to say. “I thought apologizing to them would make things better, but looks like it just made them worse. I’m not sure what else I can do.”

“They seemed angrier with each other than with you”, you said, still looking down. “It was like they were trying to argue who was more worthy of you.” You were lost in your own thoughts for a second, then you looked up at him: “What does that feel like?”

“What?”

“To be wanted.”

Miguel wasn’t expecting a question like that. He wasn’t exactly surprised either, your sensitivity had been one of the many qualities you possessed.

“I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“Try me.”

“I mean, you probably already experienced it, right?”

You scoffed.

“Of course not. Isn’t it obvious?”

“What does that mean?”

You rolled your eyes, like you couldn’t believe him.

“You know that everyone here thinks I’m the worst.”

“I don’t.” Saying that out loud made Miguel feel free. He wasn’t pretending for anyone’s sake, he really meant it.

You, however, gave him a disgusted look.

“So why is this the first time you said more than a few words to me in the four years we have studied together?”

It hurt to admit, but you were right. He knew it and he hated it. Four years of following other people and acting like that to fit in. What good did that do to him? Miguel ended up alone outside at what was supposed to be the most important night of middle school, anyway.

His silence emboldened you.

“So, yeah, people won’t even look at me, how would anyone want me?”, your voice was louder than usual, a result of the amount of punch you drank and the frustration you felt.

He wanted to tell you that he had always wanted to hang out with you, that he would make up all these scenarios in his head and that he looked at you, he saw you, just not when you were looking. The words escaped him.

“But you know, next year we are going to high school and what happened in middle school won’t matter anymore. The rules will be different.” You chuckled to yourself. “Who knows, if we end up at the same school, I might be the one ignoring you.”

“That’s fair, I guess.”

His eyes met hers and he felt like his chest was going to explode. That was another reminder that his actions had consequences. Miguel’s thoughts were that he was the worst and ruined everything.

You started laughing. Hard. As sad as Miguel was, a smile appeared on his face.

“What?”, he asked, his smile widening.

You were laughing so hard that your eyes became glassy.

“Tell me, come on”, Miguel started laughing with you.

Tears of laughter poured on your face.

“Do you remember that time we were in the middle of a biology test and Mr. Watanabe’s phone started ringing”, you tried to catch your breath, your voice uneven with so much laughter. “And all of sudden he looked like a ghost, we thought someone had died, but his wife had lost his pet turtle inside their own house.”

“How could I ever forget Moony Turtle?”

“Such a perfect name, she was really old too.”

“I don’t remember what happened to her after, though.”

“Mr. Watanabe ran home and searched everywhere at his place. His wife was convinced Moony had run away, but in the end she was just chilling inside the pantry.”

They kept looking at each other until all the laughter went away.

“But what about you? What do you think high school will be like for you?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Haven’t given it much thought.”

“Is there at least something you really want to do? Like…joining the mathletes or something.”

“The mathletes?”, he raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? You are really good with numbers, formulas and equations”, you sounded genuine. “It’s not that crazy.”

“Uh, thanks? But definitely not that…”

“Are you afraid it’s going to ruin your reputation?”, you mocked. “You’re a very handsome guy, if anything, it will make people go crazier for you.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“Do you think I’m handsome?”

You blushed, which made Miguel feel even better.

“It’s not really a matter of opinion, it’s more of a fact.”

Of course you would try to get away with it. Miguel didn’t want to ruin it by pushing you, so he just gave you a cocky smile and went back to the subject.

“I want to make new friends in high school. That’s it, that’s what I want.”

He swore your eyes sparkled at that.

“That sounds like a good plan.”

They were lost in the moment, until a car horn came from the street. A very pregnant woman came out of the passenger seat.

“Sorry to ruin the moment, Bubbles, but your niece is kicking the hell out of my belly, I really want pickles with doritos and tuna and I swear if you take another second, I might pee in my pants.”

“Who is that?”, Miguel asked, amused.

“My sister, never been very patient, but I swear the pregnancy is making it worse”, you got up from the bench, so did he.

“Bubbles, do you want your goddaughter to be born looking like a mix of pickles, doritos and tuna?”, your sister screamed.

“Bubbles, your sister will pee in the car seat. This is the company car, we can’t have that happen again”, the driver shouted.

“Again?”, Miguel asked, quietly.

“Coming!”, you shouted back. You considered him for a second, then said: “Have a nice summer, Miguel”.

Miguel wasn’t sure if he had ever felt wanted or understood what it meant. But at that moment, he realized he did know that it was like wanting somebody. Miguel felt it with every fiber in his being: he desperately wanted you.

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<<: chapter 10

>> chapter 12

all chapters

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a very good idea playlist

#a very good idea #oscar isaac fic #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #fake relationship #fake dating #friends to lovers #unrequited crush #Spotify

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scripted-downfall · 2 years ago

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Best JP performance? Worst JP performance?

Oof, a very difficult question; I commend you :) (I confess that I'm not sure I have one-performance answers; I suck at being decisive on all questions, sorry... Frankly, I'm not even sure whether it's easier to come up with 'best' or 'worst' first, but I'll give as brief-yet-complete a response as I can!)

Best: Honestly? Cry_Wolf. The movie itself isn't especially great imo, which helps. Additionally, the character feels decently genuine. I've also seen his Friday the 13th, which I really wanted to like --- largely because I came to like Amanda Righetti in The Mentalist --- but it was just uninspiring. On the other hand, I didn't leave feeling like it was atrocious, so that ranks it on the better end of things. The early seasons of Supernatural aren't bad --- I suspect that I'd like them a lot more if I went back and rewatched them after seeing the more recent seasons, but this is largely conjecture; I hadn't liked him much back then, either, and it's only comparison that makes the heart grow fonder --- so they bear mentioning. And I think that some of his acting as a villain in SPN was pretty good too (e.g. Soulless Sam springs to mind). His acting as Gadreel-possessed-Sam was decent, too. Oh, and "The French Mistake" featured, imo, better acting than his actual day-to-day performances did.

Some qualifications to the above: 1. His character in Cry_Wolf isn't horribly dissimilar from what little I know of Padalecki's usual personality --- highly proud of being from Texas (e.g. with the flag in his dorm and multiple conversations about it, iirc), a prankster (including some that go way too far), and with questionable viewpoints (e.g. rude about someone's weight, etc.) --- so the question of how much it's genuine because of a performance/acting as opposed to just... because it's genuine is a bit unclear. 2. The problem with his roles as villain in SPN --- Soulless Sam, as mentioned, but also Meg!Sam, hunting-obsessed!Sam in "Mystery Spot", demon-blood Sam, Samifer, Soulless Sam, etc --- is that they started to get a bit repetitive. Initially, they had nuances distinguishing amongst the roles, but he'd lost that by at latest the end of the Soulless Sam arc, if not before, so I'm a bit leery about listing these in the "best" category. Gadreel was acted according to Tahmoh's initial representation of the angel, so it broke free from the rather unvaried mold.

As for the worst: At least half of SPN (on the later end of things). I don't quite know where to start this category, since it's not so much a toggle between good acting and bad acting as it is a slow decline. I know that I very much didn't like Samifer, so maybe sometime after that (with a few exceptions depending on the arc). I really didn't like House of Wax --- which was my first deliberate foray into Padalecki's filmography, and occurred solely out of curiosity after the Paris Hilton episode of SPN --- but I legitimately do not know at this point if that was his acting, the frankly awful physics/anatomy contained within the film, or the film in general. And Walker. Definitely Walker. That was. Ow. No. I'm never even touching that again, much less watching any of it.

I hope these are decent answers! I'm happy to elaborate should you want more details --- I had enough to say in vague ways that adding in lengthy and detailed explanations felt like it'd be annoying, so I figure I'll just answer anything you want to know --- and I hope the response was interesting/helpful/etc!

#answered asks #scripted downfall asks answered #anti jared padalecki #just in case #i'm taking no chances

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hachigram · 1 month ago

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004 VD ー BLESSED BE THE CHILD

LUKA: Ah. You’re in your seat, too.

HARUHI: Am I not supposed to be? I apologize. I will stand up right away.

LUKA: No, no, no. Just�� Stay seated.

HARUHI: Understood. I will do as you say.

LUKA: Thank you. Now, shall we begin?

HARUHI: This is an interrogation, correct? But these are reserved for criminals, are they not?

LUKA: ……Aren’t you a criminal?

HARUHI: Negative. My actions were justified. They cannot be referred to as “criminal.”

LUKA: But you killed someone, didn’t you?!

HARUHI: Correct. I ended the life of another person. But that does not make me a criminal.

LUKA: But murder is illegal! Murder is a crime!

HARUHI: I am righteous in my actions. He deserved to have his lifespan shortened.

LUKA: Is that so… Well, what did he do that was so horrible?

HARUHI: I do not have to tell you anything. You will understand at the end of this interrogation. Even though I still believe I have been wrongly incarcerated.

LUKA: ………..

HARUHI: Well? Do you not have any further questions for me?

LUKA: I do, I do, just…. Give me a moment.

HARUHI: I shall await further instructions.

LUKA: [Under his breath] This kid…

[ A long pause is taken as Luka mulls over the information he was given. ]

LUKA: Okay. Name, age, and occupation?

HARUHI: I am Haruhi Nanami. I am twelve years of age. I no longer have an occupation.

LUKA: “No longer” have one? What were you doing before?

HARUHI: Forgive me. But as per the regulations I must follow, I am not allowed to disclose it.

LUKA: That sounds suspicious. Especially for someone your age.

HARUHI: What does the amount of time I have lived on this planet matter to my prior statement? What importance does it serve?

LUKA: Haaah. Never mind. I won’t get anywhere with this topic. Moving on… How’s life here in prison? Have you been getting along with the others?

HARUHI: Affirmative. Kisaragi-san is someone I converse with rather often. As she is a year older than me, she tells me about situations and experiences I have yet experienced. She is nice to speak to. She is proper company.

LUKA: I see. You must really enjoy her company.

HARUHI: Mmm. I do. What about you, Warden-sama? Do you, perhaps, have a person that you can confide in such as that? Do you have a romantic partner or interest?

LUKA: …………I can’t… seem to remember…

HARUHI: If you cannot remember if you have a romantic partner, then you must not have one. Therefore, you must be lonely and distraught. Perhaps I should introduce you to someone.

LUKA: Th-That’s not necessary… I just… [ A pause as they try to recall their past. ] Oof… I think I have a headache…

HARUHI: If you are feeling unwell, perhaps we should postpone this interrogation until you are feeling better. If you would like, I am able to pray for you.

LUKA: I appreciate it, but there’s no need. I’m alright.

HARUHI: M-Maybe you should listen to your body. If it ceases to function, it will be harder to recover from it. It is possible that your heart shall cease functioning, as well.

LUKA: No, really. I’m fine. We can continue.

HARUHI: Very well, then.

LUKA: Alright. Are you aware of the process that we use to extract your memories?

HARUHI: Affirmative. You read my mind and it projects my memories into a musical format for easier digestion.

LUKA: How do you know that much?!

HARUHI: I overheard Yuki-san having a panic attack in his cell. Since our cells are right next to one another, I am able to hear him rather clearly. I would appreciate it if you would render him unconscious from time to time, for I am unable to sleep properly with his constant muttering.

LUKA: A-Ah… I see.

HARUHI: Well, then. Shall we get it over with? I am finding this interrogation to be rather unpleasant.

[ The mechanical bell tolls right after. ]

LUKA: Very well. Prisoner number four, Haruhi Nanami… sing your sins.

[ MV: VITA ]

#ocgram #voice dramas #004

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years ago

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Oh my goodness, Anna…this was 8000 words of PURE BEAUTY!!!! 🤩🤩🤩 I absolutely loved this journey that you took me on. I was rooting for them from the very first word, and I’m so happy that they found their way back to each other. You included all of the elements you chose seamlessly, and created such a flawless BINGO!!! Now please enjoy my actual essay on my thoughts on your story.

Ok, so first overall I’d like to say that Tommy and (Y/N)’s story was one for the ages - I absolutely adored how you weaved everything together and brought everyone in in their own respective times. I’m going to get into it more in a bit, but I just wanted to start off with that.

Their first conversation was tense. This line: She said she was a barmaid too, didn’t she? was COLD. You can hear the bitterness that (Y/N) had towards this situation in her words. And you know what…she was 100% right. Good for her for saying what the others danced around.

And this: “…This will never end well, you hear me? And if you go through with this, it’s over. Forget about me.” — oof. 😳😳 talk about calling it as you see it. She really said take me or leave me, but I guarentee you’ll be better with me and then Tommy just threw it all away.

So then we got this: “When this all goes to shit—and it will— don’t expect me to be there for you. Goodbye, Thomas.” and I was like oof x2 😬😬 she said what she said and she meant it!! And once again, you can clearly hear her emotions through her words.

I loved the relationship between (Y/N) and Polly that you detailed. Polly is such a wonderful woman, and it totally made sense that she’d taken (Y/N) under her wing — Pol wouldn’t let any woman in her family take shit from anyone…regardless of who that person is.

When I read this line: You had been seeing Angel for a few months. I was like yikes. I immediately knew what was going to be happening, and I was scared to read it…ngl.

And then when I read this line: “Because anyone who hurts a Shelby pays the price, remember, Pol?” I was like ‘ok so what’s Grace’s price to pay, hm???’ 👀👀 because you’re bein a little bit of a hypocrite there, Tommy.

The twist of it all with the Changrettas and Angel specifically was delicious though. Although it still hurt equally as much when John got killed by the attack. 😭😭😭

This line: Letting you believe he was a terrible person somehow felt easier than watching you in pain. is SO Tommy!!! Like this is him boiled down into a sentence. It perfectly describes why he does the things he does in the manner he does them. Brilliant, Anna!!

And then this: “You saved my life. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve gotten that bullet…” gripped at my heart because it’s when I realized that this was almost exactly like what happened with Grace, but he was able to save her this time 🥺🥺🥺 (I’m happy that (Y/N) was the one that was saved)

But then you hit me with this line: “But I didn’t save John,” right after it and it absolutely broke my heart!! 😩😩😭😭 he’s gonna hold onto that for forever - I just know it. (Y/N)’s comfort surely meant a lot though.

And then this line came: “But then I remembered the time you came home from school and told me you had met your wife.” and that, along with the adorable story of them meeting, and the fact that he still had the flower made me just about die from how much my heart was swelling!!! 🥹🥹🥹 this is the most beautiful love story I think I’ve ever read, Anna!!!

And when he confessed to her, and they FINALLY kissed, and then him saying he thinks he loved her to only follow it with this: “No, I don’t think…I know,” Tommy mumbled, his lips brushing yours before kissing you once again. ❗️❗️❗️ 🥹🥹🥹 and then their wedding and the fact that they finally got their happy ever after. I don’t think there could have been a better ending to this story, Anna!!! I’m absolutely in love with this!!!

Thank you so much for writing this for my celebration!! I’m sorry that it took a little while for me to get to reading it, but oh my goodness, this is going to stay in my mind for the next handful of days!!! And the fact that you wrote 8000 words BLOWS MY MIND!!!! Your writing never ceases to amaze me!! 💕

It’s always been you

Summary: after years by his side, Tommy sees your friendship shattered when he decides to marry Grace and then later, hurts your boyfriend. Will you ever be reunited?

A/N: phew! this was…well it’s officially the longest one shot I’ve ever written and it’s in honor of my darling @runnning-outof-time bingo! I’ve worked very hard on this and I’m literally writing this on December 31st at half past two in the morning but it’s worth it! Also, big big thank you to my darling @choreosmania (you’re such a sexy little swine ily <3) Happy New Year everyone, I hope you enjoy this first fic of 2023!! 💗💗

Prompts: A holiday party—hurt/comfort—must include: a secret—enemies-to-lovers

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, swearwords, peaky related stuff and fluff (obviously)

Word count: 8,037 words

Tommy sat in the quiet office, waiting to hear the distinctive clicking on the hardwood floor. He had news to tell you. Something very important that got you rushing to the Shelby Company Ltd. Building. But for once, the news were good.

“What happened?” you almost screamed, erupting through the glass doors. You knew Tommy well enough to be concerned when he called you to his office for “important matters”. And the blood on his temple didn’t soothe your worry.

“I’m getting married, Y/N.”

Keep reading

#10/10 would recommend #k’s 2.5k holiday bingo challenge

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mockrelevance · 2 years ago

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01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

I say it's average

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

myself most likely, or a coworker

03: Do you regret anything?

at the moment ....no.

04: Are you insecure?

sometimes often

05: What is your relationship status?

divorced.... from myself

06: How do you want to die?

peacefully

07: What did you last eat?

soup

08: Played any sports?

tennis

09: Do you bite your nails?

not often

10: When was your last physical fight?

neve- -2019.

11: Do you like someone?

No.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

and some

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

No.

14: Do you miss someone?

No.

15: Have any pets?

No.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

cold, dull pain in the back, prickly

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

No.

18: Are you scared of spiders?

proximity wise yes

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Heck yeah, brother.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

nowhere

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

try to remember

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

maybe, 2

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

ears, 2

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

art.... ummmm.... ! ...Art....

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

myself, before all the pain (comedically)

26: What are you craving right now?

sleep

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

... could have, could not have no. ones told me so i won't assume

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

No.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

No.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

how silly tarot card readings on YT affect my actual IRL mood

31: Does somebody love you?

Yeah, I would hope so.

32: What is your favorite color?

some green-ish/blue-ish color out in the woods somewhere

33: Do you have trust issues?

Now? yes

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

some guy I've never met IRL pointed a gun at me, it was a prop gun so it only shot compressed air or something, but I got upset that him and scolded him into a computer..... oooh.... this is about Overwatch...😖

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

me in the mirror

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

no, you must solve 3 of my toughest riddles first !!!

i.e. have an actual honest person-to-person conversation about the situation and if the destruction is worth salvaging or not, move in the appropriate direction for each individual.

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

For me yes. but also I have memory stuff going on so....no?

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

no. that was 2022

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

*pending* or like 6yo or something

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

only in my dreams

51: Favourite food?

i forgot

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Fuck yeah! and sometimes the reason is that you're stupid.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

fail to sleep

54: Is cheating ever okay?

NO. unless your an actor and this is a movie

55: Are you mean?

somethimes

56: How many people have you fist-fought?

Zero.

57: Do you believe in true love?

.....

58: Favourite weather?

partly cloudy but it is warm, there's a soft breeze and the brush of leaves sing you their melodys

59: Do you like the snow?

at times

60: Do you wanna get married?

sure

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

not all the time

62: What makes you happy?

oof, a lot of things but its always related to other people being happy

63: Would you change your name?

no, but i did change my nickname

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

No.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Idk, talk about it.

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

Yea?

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

coworker

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

the walls

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

i believe that everyone you meet that leaves any sort of imprint on it, for better or for worse is a soulmate. like, the word mate = "friend", they are just a friend of your soul here to help teach you lessons about this world. some of them are cool and some are not.

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

No.

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adarlingwrites · 3 years ago

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Leave it to the Wind

Summary: Between deadlines, an awful transport system, and aswangs lurking about in the shadows, you have much to worry about as a college student in Manila, and it's so much that your social life is practically dead. Your wind people roommates want to help you remedy that.

Words: 9343

Relationships: The Kambal/Reader (Crispin/Reader/Basilio)

Warnings: Adult content, alcohol, brief scene of sexual harassment

Author’s Notes: God, the fandom is so thirsty for the Kambal, and so am I. Finally, some Filipino himbo representation.

The premise is: Hannah and Amie decides to play matchmaker. Hilarity ensues. Smut ensues. Please be nice, I based the characterizations of the character on the Netflix series and Trese wiki pages since I couldn't get my hands on the original comics yet oof. Some words, like terms of endearment and curse words, will remain in Filipino. Translations are provided. Reader is AFAB and is referred to with female pronouns.

Reposting this from AO3 with all three chapters in one post. A Filipino (Taglish) translation is in the works!

You don’t know how they managed to convince you, to be honest.

You rarely ever go out at night anymore. So many strange incidents transpire in Manila’s narrow streets. Just recently, you’ve heard of a new story about a tikbalang who allegedly participated in illegal street races.

So when your roommates and friends Amie and Hannah invited you for a night out, you hesitated. You gave them every excuse you can think of; you needed to do laundry, you needed to study, you needed to finish a project, and so on.

You know that the two of them are wind people, but you can’t help but think. Which of the various stories you had been hearing are real? What else in this world you haven’t witnessed yet?

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill! Pretty please? You don’t go out with us as often. Enjoy yourself a little,” Amie whines, lying on the sofa of your living room.

On the other hand, Hannah turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face. “C’mon, get dressed already,” she commanded. “There are some total hotties we’d like you to meet! One of them might catch your eye!”

“I told you, I don’t need a relationship. You two try this every week. How do you even know so many people?” you retort, laughing softly at yourself.

“Well, our night lives are active,” Hannah retorted. “Don’t forget our sex lives!” the other added. Hearing those words, you felt your face get flushed with heat.

You needed a good fuck.

“Damn it, fine! As long as you pay for me.”

They finally got you to say yes.

As the night went on, you went to several bars, and you swore that you had explored every crevice of the city. It doesn’t help that the guy Amie and Hannah were with, a tall, dark and handsome man with flowing locks of black hair, drove like a demon. You got around quickly in no time.

Around an hour after midnight, you’re all exhausted from a night of dancing and mingling. None of the people your friends introduced to you caught your attention. At that point, you just wanted a stiff drink to unwind.

Voicing it to your drinking buddies, they nod in agreement.

“I know just the place, in Malate,” the man you’re with said. “Quiet. Discreet. I can take you there, if you want.”

“You mean The Diabolical, right? Let’s go! Text Crispin and Basilio, they might be hangin’ there too,” Amie croons.

A chuckle escapes your lips upon hearing their names. “Huh? Were they named after the characters in Jose Rizal’s novel?”

“I think so? Whatever! But seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!”

The remark made you laugh so hard, you swore you can be heard in the next city. “What the fuck! Amie, gaga ka, Sisa was their mom! The context of that scene was rough.”

Hannah’s mischievous grin spreads on her face once more, and she gently elbows your side. “Well, if you’re lucky, in this context you’d be crying their names while your eyes roll to the back of your head.”

You’ll never admit it, but you had hoped all their teasing would come true.

It didn’t take long for the four of you to reach your destination. As you enter The Diabolical, a strange chill envelopes you. The air feels different inside; it’s almost as if you stepped in a different world. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, but when you looked around, you saw a duwende sitting by the bar. Or was it called a nuno? At the end of the bar, you saw them; two men both dressed in black suits. One has short hair, while the other one has longer, reaching past his shoulders. However, they’re facing away from you. Only the back of their head and part of their cheeks were visible where you stood.

You snapped out of it when the man you three are with spoke up. “I’m gonna call it a night. Have fun, you three.”

“For real? Wow Maliksi, this is the first time I ever saw you wanting to leave early. Aren’t you gonna stop by and say hi to Alex?” Hannah asks him.

“Maybe next time,” Maliksi answers back, a somber expression on his face. “Oh em gee, did you two fight? Wait, what are you two?” Amie asks.

“Whatever. It’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Your friends nodded and let Maliksi be. He waves at your group, and heads out the door. The engine of his car roars to life, and his car screeches away.

As the car moved farther away though, it seems that the screeching of the tires turned into hoofbeats.

Perhaps it’s just your imagination.

“Amie! Hannah! Have a drink! Hey, who’s that with you? Is that the person you’ve been wanting us to meet for ages now?”

Your head turns to where the voice was coming from; one of the men in the suits, the one with short hair in particular. You finally had a good look on their faces.

Twins?

“Crispin! Meet our friend! This is…”

As Amie and Hannah introduce you to the Twins, you can’t help but stare. You took the sight of their features in; they’re tall, with broad shoulders, and hard muscle underneath that black suit and white tie ensemble. They have wide noses with a high bridge, prominent bone structure, and a prominent widow’s peak.

Merciful Bathala, they’re gorgeous.

What caught your attention the most are their eyes. They're pitch black, save for the small reflection of light.

Are these people even human?

“Stare at them like that any longer and they might melt,” Amie teases. The two of your friends are giving you an ear-splitting grin due to your reaction to the Twins.

“I, uh-” you stuttered, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be shy. You can sit between us, miss. We’re all friends here,” the twin with the longer hair says. If the other one is Crispin, then this must be Basilio.

Behind you, your friends are already giggling. They took their places next to the twins and leaned on their biceps. Across from you, the bartender comes to take your order.

“What’ll it be, kid?” he asks.

For some reason, you’re panicking. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it’s because you’re sandwiched between the twins. “Uh, what would you recommend, manong?”

Laughter erupted from the twins. “Hank, she called you manong!” Basilio teases while grinning like a fucking dog. “Geez, are you really that old?” Crispin eggs him on, giving him a shit-eating grin. Hank takes a wet rag he uses to wipe down the countertop and strikes the two down. “You goddamn assholes!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing with them.

“Ow! Alright, we’re sorry, we’re sorry. Get them the best seller, Hank. We’ll pay for their tab,” Basilio says, and Hannah and Amie squeals with joy.

“Oh em gee, you boys are so sweet! Thank youuu!”

As Hank prepares you a drink, you try conversing with the twins. “You two seem fun to have as drinking buddies.”

Hank turns around to reach a bottle from the shelf. “Those two are mischievous little shits, that’s for sure. You know, when these two were kids...”

“Hey man, don’t embarrass us like that in front of our new friend,” Crispin whines.

While the three continues fucking around, you leaned back slightly to glimpse at Amie, who was trying to get your attention for a while now. She points to her phone, and you fetch yours from your bag.

You read your group chat with them. “Soooo, do you like, like them?” Hannah’s message said.

“You’re into them aren’t you? You got so shy around them, it’s so cute!” Amie’s message said.

“Right? It’s rare to see you so flustered!”

You typed away furiously at your phone, cautious to not let the twins beside you see the conversation.

“Well, they’re an improvement from the ones you introduced me to earlier. Easier on the eyes, too…”

Your friends giggled, and as their drinks arrived, they stood up. “Girl, we’re gonna leave you with them, there’s some super hot tikbalangs who just came in the bar. Byeeee!”

“Hey, wait!”

They didn’t heed your words and went to sit on the tikbalangs’ laps.

Fuck, tikbalangs are real? Is Maliksi a tikbalang too?

“And off they go, flirting with those beasts after they’ve used us for drinks,” Crispin laments, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s not like it’s the first time we got used by them though,” Basilio adds, cringing.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Basilio’s head whips towards you, sweat gathering on his brow. “Seriously?! Shit, what did they say about us?”

“All good things, don’t you worry,” you answered.

“Nah, I need to hear what they said word for word,” the twin with long hair responds. “This is making me paranoid!”

Crispin moves closer to you, Basilio puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you can only smile. All of you are inebriated and if you were sober, and if someone else dared to get this close to you, you might’ve slapped them. But you feel good about the Twins, and your roommates never put you in harm’s way, so your trust for them extended to the brothers, somehow.

“Just tell us already,” Crispin slurs. “Tell us what they said about us. We’re curious.”

“Fine, fine. Okay, Amie and Hannah mentioned your names when Maliksi suggested that we head here to drink. Then, I mentioned that your names came from Rizal’s novels.”

“Then Amie said,” you continued, pausing briefly to come up with an impression of your roommate’s speech. “‘Seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!’ Fuck, it was so messed up!”

“That’s messed up, alright,” Basilio sputters, his face a deep shade of crimson. “I’m this hot and those are the only details they can spare?!”

“Ok, but that Sisa joke was kind of funny though. But it was still fucked up,” Crispin adds, and he takes a sip of his drink.

“Hold your horses, the story’s not done yet,” you say. You’re starting to feel more confident around the two.

Your conversation went places, until you found yourselves drinking until three in the morning, and at that point, it’s only just the four of you in the bar; Hank, the Twins, and you. Even Hannah and Amie are nowhere to be seen. Knowing them, they probably took the tikbalangs they were flirting with back to your apartment.

They didn’t even wait for you. Looks like they’re really setting you up tonight. Maybe they wanted the apartment to themselves tonight, and they got exactly what they wanted.

You had planned on getting up to go to the restroom, but when you tried standing up, you almost fell from the chair. The Twins caught you before you landed face first against the floor.

“She’s had enough to drink,” Hank comments. They set you on a chair with a backrest. “How will she get home? We can’t send her off in a cab at this rate. The train doesn't run this late either.”

“Hannah left her behind too,” Crispin adds.

“Hey, how are we gonna deal with this?” Basilio asks. “We can get you home once we sober up a little. It’s fine if you-”

Basilio never got to finish what he was going to say, because you nodded off against his stomach, and puked your lunch out.

You don’t remember anything after that.

When you awaken, the sun is already high up, and the first thing that greets you is the fan in the ceiling. Your muscles are screaming at you, and your throat feels dry. Memories of last night came crashing back and you started sweating in horror. Maybe it’s just a drunken dream, but it felt all too real.

You were flirting with these gorgeous twins, had too much to drink, and at some point puked all over one of the twins’ shoes.

And now, you don’t know whose bedroom you are in. You check yourself, and you’re still wearing the same clothes, with nothing out of place. There are no bruises or marks on your body either. You looked around you, but there was no one else in the room.

The doors crack open slightly, and you see two pairs of void-black eyes.

“I… um… good morning?”

“It’s… already 2 in the afternoon,” one of them says. He has long hair. This one is the twin you threw up on.

“Why don’t you have some lunch?” the other one said.

You just nodded and said nothing else, ashamed of yourself. You threw up on one of them and now you’re eating at their table. You just wanted the ground to swallow you alive.

“Sorry for puking on you last night,” you near-whispered to Basilio after you swallowed your first bite of food.

The silence broke when Crispin roared with laughter, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Basilio was glaring daggers at his brother. He’s frowning like a child whose toy got taken from him. “Sure, keep laughing, kuya.”

“I’ll never show my face here again, I promise,” you say to them, hiding your face behind your hands.

“What’re you talking about? Forget about it. We’re friends now, right?” Basilio tells you, smiling. “But next time, vomit on my brother too.”

“No one’s throwing up because I won’t be allowing any of you to get wasted that bad ever again,” Hank announces as he enters the room with a carafe in his hand. “Bossing’s not gonna like it if the bar ends up smelling as bad as Basilio’s room. Here, have some coffee.”

“We should introduce you to bossing next time too. She’s not here at the moment,” Crispin adds. “Let’s do this again next week.”

The invitation made you smile, and you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You continued eating the rest of your meal.

“...my room doesn’t smell that, right?” Basilio asks after a few moments of silence.

“Gago, it stinks so bad. It’s why we made the guest stay at my room, because if she stayed at yours she could’ve died from how bad it is,” Crispin exclaims. “Seriously, how can you live with bringing women to your room at that point?”

“Kuya, you’re embarrassing me to our guest!”

Translations for non-Filipino speaking folks:

bossing: a somewhat affectionate way to say “boss”. Comes from the old tradition of adding -eng or -ing to ones name to make a nickname, e.g. Luciana - Lucing

Gago/gaga (ka): (you) idiot/moron - someone stupid, foolish or ignorant

Tikbalang: creature from Filipino mythology similar to a centaur. They are hulking beasts with a horse's head.

manong: a term for endearment to an elderly male relative, or elderly men in general. Originally an Ilokano term referring to the first born son in a nuclear family.

kuya: big brother. Can be used to refer to one's own older brother, someone else's older brother, or an older peer or male acquaintance.

Author’s Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Bita and the Botflies' song Manghuhula.

Warnings: brief scene of sexual harrassment

After washing up, the Twins accompanied you to the gate, exchanging glances at each other behind your back. Little did they know, you definitely noticed it.

“Wait,” Basilio says, tapping your shoulder lightly with a large hand.

Crispin takes his phone out of his pocket. His younger brother proceeds to do the same. “Give us your phone. We’ll add our numbers, and you can text us if something happens,” he says.

“Or when you get home safe,” Basilio adds.

You look at the two of them back and forth. “This isn’t just an elaborate excuse for the two of you to get my number, right?”

Neither of the two spoke, giving each other a nervous glance.

Their reaction made you laugh out loud, and you took out your phone from your bag. “Here. I’ll give you my Facespace too.”

With the tension broken, the three of you exchange a chuckle. You punch in your number in their phones, while they did the same to yours. Crispin looks over his brother’s shoulder and frowns.

“Epal,” Crispin says to his brother, snatching your phone away from him. The older twin types something in, and it’s the younger one’s turn to stick his nose in. Basilio attempts to get the phone back, cursing all the time.

“You’re going to break her phone, gago,” the older twin curses, pushing a palm against Basilio’s face. “Then let it go! You’re the epal, I wasn’t done yet,” the younger one snaps back.

You give them a look of irritation, and check out what they’re arguing about.

“What the hell are you two grown-ass men fighting about?” you ask as you butt in to look at what they’re doing.

A loud snort bubbles from you as you see it; Basilio added “the hot twin” next to his contact name. Crispin added “the hotter twin”. Now, the former wanted to outdo his older brother.

Against your better judgment, you say, “You’re twins. You look like each other. You’re both hot. Now stop fighting over my phone.”

Perhaps it’s the afternoon heat, but there is a tinge of red in their cheeks after your remark. You waved them goodbye as you got in a tricycle that’ll get you to the nearest train station.

The MRT, in some strange miraculous twist of fate, isn’t as packed as usual. It’s still populated, but there were a few seats waiting to be taken. You sit down somewhere away from direct sunlight, and you take out your phone to tell Hannah and Amie that you’re on the way home.

The first thing you see is a text from Basilio. Then, a text from Crispin. You tell them both that you’re on the train now, completely forgetting about messaging your roommates. To pass the time, you launch the Facespace app and decide to look up their profiles, only to find out that they’ve already sent you a friend request.

Upon seeing Crispin’s profile, you did your damn best to stifle a laugh.

His work description says “works at the Krusty Krab,” but that wasn’t the craziest thing about his profile. At first, the Bible verse in his bio caught you off guard, thinking that someone like him didn’t seem religious, but when you quickly looked up “Ezekiel 23:20,” you did your best not to howl with laughter.

Basilio’s isn’t any better.

In his work description, he put “Model at For Her Magazine,” and “edi sa puso mo.” Then you scroll down to see a thirst trap of him pulling his shirt up with his teeth, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. Well, at least that work description is believable.

They’re- what was that term your younger university friends were using again?- himbos.

They’re definitely himbos.

Arriving at your place, you slot your key inside the doorknob and twist. As you enter the door, the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat hits your face, and you regret getting too wasted last night and losing your chance to hook up with one of the Twins.

Or both.

Both?

Regardless, at least they’ve invited you again to hang out next week.

You raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at the scene before you. Cans of beer litter the living room, and your roommates are taking a nap by the couch. A tikbalang comes out of the bathroom, glamor off, and you snort as you watch him duck under the door frame because of his massive height.

“It’s already four in the afternoon. Time to go, big guy.”

He nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, morphing into his human disguise, and exiting your apartment.

You sit between your roommates, rousing them from their sleep. “I’m not going to clean this mess up,” you tell them, motioning to the trashed state of the living room, and reaching for the remote to turn the TV on. You just want to take a shower afterwards and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After rubbing the sleep from their eyes, your roommates near-tackles you on the couch, a curious, excited look on their faces. You forgot all about what you were watching and stared at them in surprise.

“So how did it go? Did you get to hook up with any of them?” Amie asks.

“Or both of them?” Hannah adds.

“Gaga, nothing like that happened.”

The two of them let you go with disappointed looks on their faces. “So sayang! Here we were thinking you finally have a sex life,” one of them says as you lean back on the backrest, closing your eyes as they continue to pester you for details.

“Why are you two so determined to get me to screw someone?” you finally snapped, amused and irked at the same time.

“Because you’ve been doing nothing but totally stressing yourself out! See how super fun it is to let go every now and then?”

“Thanks for the new drinking buddies, girls, but I have my fingers to keep me company. Hookups are too much work,” you lie to them, eyes still closed.

“That’s a toe-curling, full-body orgasm you’re missing out on, girl!”

“That’s assuming that the person I’m with knows what they’re doing,” you retorted.

One of them pokes your side with an elbow, and you assume it’s Hannah. “The Twins do.”

You opened your eyes, and you guessed right; it’s Hannah. You give her a look, before rolling your eyes, appearing to look disinterested. The smirk tugging at the edge of your lips says otherwise, though.

“So what happened last night?” Amie asks.

“I got wasted and threw up on Basilio’s shoes. Then, I ended up sleeping in Crispin’s room. When I woke up, they fed me and sent me home,” you tell them. Your roommates giggle at the story.

“Ah, speaking of which, I gotta let them know I got home,” you said off-hand, and somehow the remark only spurred your wind people roommates on.

“Yieee, you’re friends with them on Facespace already!” Amie quips, leaning in to see what you’re typing. Playfully, you move your phone away from her to conceal what you’re typing.

“Make a group chat with them!” Hannah exclaims, taking your phone away from you. You tried taking it back, but Amie joins in the mischief and blocks you from doing so.

When you got your phone back, the deed was done, and the chat was renamed to a single eggplant emoji. The like button was replaced by an eggplant emoji too.

Panicking, you add your roommates to the group to avoid looking suspicious, and swiftly type up a defense.

“Please ignore that, Hannah made this chat using my account.”

The teasing never stopped after that.

Weeks passed and you never bothered to change it, though.

It’s been about two months since your first encounter with the Twins. You’re becoming a familiar face at The Diabolical, going every Saturday to see them. Sometimes Hannah and Amie didn’t accompany you anymore. You’ve met the Twins’ bossing a few times, who turned out to be none other than Alexandra Trese. You’ve heard of her exploits and the two imposing bodyguards who were almost always with her. It surprised you that they’re none other than the Twins you knew, but it made perfect sense. Those two were jacked, and those muscles aren’t only for show.

Of course, because of your increasing presence in the bar, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. Word on the street is both of the Twins had a thing for you, and neither is making a move out of consideration for the other. They are waiting for you to move.

You elected to ignore them, perfectly happy with your arrangement of having two handsome men to keep you company while you unwind. The thought of getting together with one of them, or even both of them did cross your mind a few times, however.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t know what to do if the day comes that you’ll have to confront how you feel and choose between the two.

Do you have to?

Crispin and Basilio are twins, but they’re distinct from each other. The older is more serious, with a dryer sense of humor, while the younger is goofier, and somewhat softer. One complements the other, and they’re both good company despite their differences.

Speak of the devil. Your phone buzzes and you see that the eggplant chat is active. The Twins are inviting you to The Diabolical again.

“See you guys at eight,” you type in. Someone reacts with an eggplant to your message. Then the next few messages were nothing but eggplant emojis, followed by Basilio sending “#TeamTalong”. Crispin cusses him out for it, but sends the same message right after.

Yeah, that became a thing among the five of you.

You and the wind girls got dressed and took a taxi to the bar, your favorite jacket draped over your shoulders. Pressured by your roommates, you wore something nicer tonight; a black faux leather dress that hugs your figure deliciously. The shiny fabric added to the effect. The six bottles of Pulang Tikbalang beer the three of you shared before going out might’ve contributed to your newfound bravado.

But now that you’re actually wearing it outside your apartment, you feel a little reluctant.

“Maybe wearing this is a bad idea,” you mutter to no one in particular, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear out of self-consciousness.

Amie taps you from behind. “Oh hush, that outfit is totally sexy,” she comments. “Finally ready to get dicked down tonight, girl?”

“Shhh, gaga ka, manong driver can hear you.”

That didn’t deter them from making more inappropriate comments, much to the manong's ire.

It’s nine already when you get there, you’re in the Philippines after all. The merriment is already in full swing when you step through the door. Hannah and Amie went ahead and sat next to their lay of the week. The Twins wave you over from their usual spot, but before you can reach them, a man you’ve never seen before tries to get your attention, snaking an arm around your waist.

“Hey baby. You’re a regular here, right? Want to drink with me?”

“Sorry, I’m here with someone else,” you tell him, moving away.

“Ah, here to see the Twins? Why don’t you ditch them for a change of pace and come with me, babe?”

“Not interested,” you flat out said. “Please move, or I’ll make you move.”

To your surprise, the man drops his glamor and reveals himself to be a kapre. He looms over you, cigar in his mouth, and you can feel the tension rising. People are starting to stare, and your friends took notice of it too.

“Try,” he huffs, puffing smoke to your face. You give him a sour glare while trying not to cough.

Before your roommates or the Twins could come to your aid, you panicked and saw an empty bottle of Pulang Tikbalang on a nearby table. Emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you shatter the bottle and point the jagged edge at the hulking beast, hands shaking. You are a tiny thing compared to the enormous creature before you, after all.

“Don’t you dare look down on me.”

“Already doing that, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you say as you press the edge against his stomach, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

“I love it when they fight back,” the kapre croons.

Under the haze of alcohol, you were more than ready to shove the edge in, consequences be damned.

Before things could escalate, Crispin takes the broken bottle off of your hands and steers you away from the stranger, while Basilio steps in to defuse the tension. “Hey, why don’t you back off, pal? Our friend said no. You wouldn’t want us to tell our bossing to ban you from the place because of this misunderstanding now, don’t you?”

Heart in your throat, you turn to the Twins, then to the kapre. The tree giant pauses, looking at the three of you, then smirks.

“Heh. Fine. But if you torpe whelps don’t make a move, I will.”

The giant puts his glamor back on and skulks away.

“Wow, what a jerk! He only left you alone when the boys stepped in,” Hannah quips, tossing her hair in indignation.

“You almost didn’t need rescuing, but I’d hate to help Hank mop the blood off the floor later,” Basilio comments, nudging you gently with an elbow. His eyes go a little lower from your face, and you see him look away.

You realized Crispin hasn’t let go of you yet.

“C’mon, let’s just go,” you tell everyone. Crispin proceeds to remove his hand away from your shoulder, and you take your usual seats by the bar.

The bar is loud, but the silence between the three of you is deafening. Even Hank seems to have taken notice, eyeing your usually loud and cheerful group.

“What’s up with you three? What happened back there?” the older man asks, leaning over the bar top.

“Just a handsy kapre who couldn’t take no for an answer. I won’t let it spoil the night,” you answer him.

“That’s the spirit. Holler if he tries something like that again, I’ll have him kicked out,” Hank replies, setting down three ice-cold beers in front of you guys.

Yet somehow, the conversation never livened up.

Three bottles of Pulang Tikbalang later, you’ve had enough.

“This is about what that kapre said, isn’t it?” you finally say, slightly pissed.

The Twins look at each other with guilty expressions, and simultaneously nod.

“Do you boys wanna talk about it?”

They look at each other again. “Shit, this is awkward,” Crispin comments, scratching his head. Basilio nods in agreement, uncharacteristically silent. “We didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do,” the older twin continues.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my kuya just because we’re interested in the same girl,” Basilio says. “Same here,” Crispin adds.

“So we were waiting for you to make your own move,” Basilio continues.

“Ah. So the rumors are true,” you sighed.

“We’ll accept whatever outcome there is. If you choose me, or Basilio, or neither because this is fucking messy, we totally get it,” the older twin says, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Now the decision rests in your hands.

“Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” you ask them.

You watch as both of them gulp. “Where do you wanna talk?” Basilio asks.

“Anywhere private.”

“I just cleaned my room earlier. Why don’t we continue this there?”

You nod, and they lead you away from the bar.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Translations for non-Filipino speakers:

epal: in Filipino slang, usually refers to a person who inappropriately presents himself in a situation or butts into a conversation.

kapre: a tree-giant from Filipino mythology. Often described as very tall, dark, and hairy. Almost never seen without a cigar.

sayang: literally means waste. Can be used alone as an expression similar to "what a waste!"

torpe: someone who cannot spit their romantic or sexual feelings out to a crush or love interest

III

Author’s Notes:

Warnings: Smut. Filthy smut. Writer-is-definitely-going-to-the-second-circle-of-the-Seven-Circles-of-Hell-levels-of-filthy smut. Bawal bata, tulog na. If you're under 18 please turn back.

After the door closes behind the three of you, you sit on the bed, while Crispin sits on a chair near his brother’s desk. Basilio locks the door, and leans against it, unable to look at you.

“Right. So. How are we going to deal with this?” you ask them, crossing your legs.

“Don’t ask us,” Crispin says, swiveling the chair to face you. “You’re the one caught in the middle after all.”

Curse his choice of words.

“This is too weird,” Basilio speaks up. “If you want me to unlock the door, just say the word. We can walk out of this like nothing happened.”

“And then what? Things are going to be awkward between the three of us, I just know it,” you say to him, palming the back of your neck. “Things might get awkward with Amie and Hannah too, and I live with them. I don’t want our tropa to disband just because of relationship drama.”

“What about Amie and Hannah? Is it because we have history with those two?” Crispin asks.

“They’ve been trying to set me up with either of you. The fact that they also slept with you in the past also doesn’t help. Shit, this is messy.”

“Er, um,” Basilio stutters. “That might’ve been our fault.”

You furrow your brow and cross your arms. “Keep going.”

The Twins look at each other, as if gauging who should explain the situation. “So, we remained in contact after being used as a prize for bossing’s race with Maliksi, right?” Crispin starts.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, they mentioned a third roommate in passing and joked about lending us to her. Of course we blew them off, then Amie showed us a picture of you. We got curious and asked them to introduce you,” Basilio continues.

“I didn’t expect us five to become friends. And now we’re in this mess,” Crispin adds.

You look at them back and forth, and laugh in resignation. Elbows digging against your lap and palms pressed against your face, you rub your face and run it through your hair. “Amazing. Just amazing. See, I have a problem too.”

The Twins didn’t respond, eyes fixated on you.

“I like the two of you.”

You feel the air shift around you. Basilio’s standing upright by the door now, and Crispin straightened up too. The room is so quiet, you can hear them gulp in anticipation for what will happen next.

“There. I said it. The reason why I haven’t made a move at all is because of this exact moment that I was dreading. I didn’t want to choose,” you admit, feeling the blood rush to your head. “I just wanted for us three to stay like that, drinking buddies sprinkled with sexual tension.”

“And you’re in the middle, enjoying our attention,” Crispin says, crossing his arms.

“Selfish, I know,” you admit, head hanging low.

This is it, the moment that can make or break you three.

“Us three. If only...” you whisper, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue

You stand up, gathering your things and carrying your bag. “Nevermind. What a mess we’re in. I’ll go so you two can sort things out between the two of you. It’s been a fun ride.”

Basilio doesn’t move from the door, and behind you, you can hear Crispin getting up from his seat.

“We can still make this work, right kuya?” Basilio starts, looking over your head to give his brother a knowing look.

“Yeah, I think so,” Crispin replies. “What was that you said? The three of us?”

Your eyes widen, and you look at them back and forth. Their bodies are dangerously close to yours. Now you’re literally caught in the middle.

“I- uh…”

“I think we can work out an arrangement,” Basilio whispers, one hand moving to hold yours.

“Only if you want to,” Crispin adds, his breath kissing the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Basilio adds.

“Same here.”

Damn it all.

Giving in to your darkest, most hidden desires, you lean in to capture Basilio’s lips with yours, leaving his black eyes wide open in surprise. They flutter close, and he savors the kiss, slipping a tongue in. Then you turn to Crispin, and you give him the same sweet kiss as well.

“Damn, I didn’t mean like, now,” Basilio mutters, feeling the front of his trousers get tighter as he watches you make out with his brother.

Bringing your attention back to the younger twin, you loosen his tie, while you push out your ass to grind against Crispin. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait, are you sure about this? All of us drank tonight… we don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Crispin says, moving his hips away from you. Basilio pauses too, and wraps his hands around your wrists to still your hands, a look of concern on his face.

“Kuya’s right.”

“I’m a grown woman. I might’ve had a few bottles, but I know what I want,” you reassure them, waiting for the two to make a move. “I know I want you two for months.”

Basilio lets go of your hands and lets you do as you please, a cocky smirk on his lips. Behind you, you can feel Crispin’s gloved hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. “Really? How much do you want us? C’mon, say it,” Basilio asks, moving in to place kisses on your neck.

“I wanna hear it too,” Crispin whispers against your shoulder, and he punctuates it with a light kiss.

All of a sudden, you felt shy at the prospect of confessing your fantasies out loud. “Why don’t I just show you boys?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Basilio teases. “Consider it as payback for throwing up all over my shoes.”

“You’re still- ah!- mad about that?” you ask him, gasping in the middle of doing so when you felt a hand snake between your legs from behind. The older twin slips his fingers past your underwear, circling your clit with slow strokes.

“Not mad, I just want things to be fair,” Basilio teases, pulling your dress down. He gives your breasts a squeeze, fondling and rolling your nipples until they harden, and he seals his lips over your right one. Crispin moves from behind you and he takes his place next to his twin, lathing his tongue over the left. All four of their hands pawed at your flesh greedily.

You were at a loss for words because of how good they’re making you feel, soft moans bubbling from your throat.

“Speechless already, huh?” Crispin mumbles against your skin.

“Ngh! The wind girls weren’t lying, you two know what you’re doing,” you gasped, face flushed as you watched the Twins lavish their attention on your breasts.

“Shhh, stop changing the subject. Play along, or neither of us will make you cum,” he adds, pausing to give you a teasing lick, and resting his tongue on top of the hardened bud. On the other hand, Basilio is sucking like a starved babe while squeezing your still clothed behind.

You fake a scoff of indignation and grin. “Fine. I- oh fuck- want you two so much, I’ve been fantasizing for weeks.”

Basilio pauses to address you. “Describe them.”

You’re a little mortified, but the alcohol in your system pushes you to be bolder. “I imagined Basilio punishing me for ruining his shoes.”

“And how did he do that?” Crispin’s voice.

“He asked me to suck him off,” you start, and a pinch on your bottom from the subject of your fantasy tells you that he wanted to hear more details. “He fucked my face while pulling my hair and told me how good I was the whole time and that he forgave me.”

“What about me? What fantasies did you have?” Crispin asks again.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you pushed on. “Hearing how you scolded Basilio, I imagined you taking me from behind and saying the meanest, dirtiest things possible.”

The Twins looked at each other, and stopped, their lips leaving your breasts with a lewd pop. “You want to make them all come true?” Basilio asks.

Cheeks burning, you give them a curt nod.

The two of them lead you to the bed, where Crispin puts you on all fours, and he takes his place from behind. On the other hand, Basilio is standing near the edge of the bed, the bulge in his pants inches away from your face. You stare at it, licking your lips.

As you undid Basilio’s pants, he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes off his tie, then he takes off his dress shirt, revealing his abs and the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing into his briefs. From behind, you hear fabric shifting, then Crispin peels your panties off of you. He brings a gloved hand against your skin in a loud smack, making you cry out.

“Ah, wait, we need a safeword,” Crispin mentions, soothingly squeezing your skin.

“What about Eternos?” Basilio suggests, and Crispin cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean, like the game?”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m fine with it,” you say to them, and they take it as a signal to continue.

The older twin dips a gloved finger between your folds, gathering your wetness, and tsked. “Look at you, already so fucking wet. You want this so much, huh?”

You nod frantically, then Basilio stills your head. “Open your mouth, baby. Tongue out.”

You oblige, and Basilio fishes his cock out of his briefs. Your eyes grow wider as you take in the sight of it; girthy, with a nice length, and a few veins running on the underside. You wonder if Crispin’s is the same. The twin in front of you lightly smacks his member against your tongue, and you proceed to lick it, running from the base to the tip, slicking it with saliva. You swirl your tongue around it, then try to slide it in your mouth as smoothly as possible.

As Basilio begins to breathe harder with each bob of your head, Crispin pulls your ass towards his face, and a choked moan escapes your lips as you feel his mouth on your heat, toying with your folds before he finally finds that sensitive nub. The older twin proceeds to lick and suck at it, eating you out like you’re the best damn meal of his life.

Meanwhile, you push a palm against Basilio’s thigh to make him pause, and before he can ask you if you’re fine, you take his balls in your mouth and fondle him with your tongue. Your hand pumps his neglected cock as you did so.

“Shit! Your mouth feels so damn good,” he hisses, breathing hard. When you take his dick back into your mouth, Basilio gathers your hair and uses it as a handle, watching his length disappear in your mouth over and over, his black eyes hazy with lust and his mouth whispering words of praise.

Crispin looks at his brother with a hint of envy, cock painfully hard against his trousers. He unzips it for relief, and proceeds to stroke himself as he continues to prepare you.

“Hey, Basilio, got any lube?”

“Um, there’s- ungh- a bottle of it under the pillow.”

“...you keep lube under your pillow? What the- and condoms? Can’t you put them in your drawers or something?”

Basilio doesn’t give his brother a response and focuses his attention on you. You gasp against his cock as you felt a cold, gloved hand prod against your asshole, and goosebumps formed on your flesh as you felt the cold lubricant smearing against your entrance. Crispin pushes his lubed thumb in, and you cry out in pleasure, your jaw opening wider for Basilio to claim. Then, two more fingers prod at your pussy, and you swear you can see stars as they slid in. The older twin toys with you while eating you out, and you feel a knot forming at the base of your stomach, threatening to uncoil at any moment.

You couldn’t take it. Basilio’s cock slides out of your mouth and you look over your shoulder, moaning and panting.

Crispin pauses from eating you out to ask you a question. “You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum on my fingers like the filthy slut you are?”

“Yes, please, please, let me cum,” you begged, and with a devilish smirk, Crispin dives right back in to finish the job.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure inside you exploded, shameless moans coming from your throat as your first orgasm hits you. Basilio watches the look of pleasure on your face as Crispin makes you cum, making his cock twitch.

“Now that’s how you please a woman,” Crispin teases, shooting his brother a challenging look while wiping your juices off of his face.

“Wait until it’s my turn,” Basilio replies, smirking.

Panting, legs wobbling, you didn’t get to rest as Crispin takes his cock and slides it in you. In front of you, Basilio cups your face and directs you back to his cock, smirking. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking us like a champ, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Crispin hisses from behind you. “You like this, you little slut? You like being fucked by two cocks at the same time?” he asks you, each word punctuated with a hard thrust.

Now you’re really caught in the middle.

Basilio’s panting heavily now, his thrusts becoming erratic against your mouth. You know he’s close, and you brace yourself for what’s coming. Eyes screwed shut, he lets out a low groan as he spills inside of your mouth, his cum painting your tongue white. You try to swallow it all, but a few stray drops dribble down your chin. The younger twin cleans you up, and kisses you deeply, not minding his taste on your mouth. He sits on the bed to catch his breath, and allows you to rest on his thighs.

Behind you, Crispin begins to rut faster, his thumb still in your ass as he pounded you. You writhe and cry against Basilio’s lap, bracing yourself from each harsh thrust. The younger twin pets your hair, but he moves his hand away when Crispin pushes your head against his brother’s lap.

“Take it all of it,” Crispin groans. “Ungh, you make me so horny, you little slut.”

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Basilio gets an idea.

“Hey, kuya. Hold her up.”

Crispin blinks before obliging his brother’s request, clamping a hand around your throat. “Is this fine?” he asks you, and you nod a few times. He tightens his hold and pulls you to his toned chest, your hair sticking to his skin from your sweat. Basilio kisses you, then latches on one of your breasts. One gloved hand fondles and pulls at your nipples, while the other moves south to stroke you.

“Ah! I think I’m gonna cum again…” you choked, face red and tears forming at the edge of your eyes.

“Say our names,” Crispin whispers against your ear in a low growl.

You mutter their names at first, but it turns to full blown cries as your climax fast approaches.

“Crispin! Basilio!”

It hits you so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cried shamelessly, and Crispin places a kiss on your open mouth, tongue slipping in and teeth clashing with yours. He pulls out and finishes on your back, cock resting between the valley of your cheeks, still half-hard.

The Twins move to clean you up, looking around for tissues and anything to wipe you with.

“So,” Basilio says. “One more round?”

Your eyes widen, and you look down to see that Basilio is hard again.

“How- what the fuck? What are you two?”

Crispin sighs. “Hannah and Amie never told you? We’re demigods.”

“We don’t get sick and our injuries heal really fast. Talagbusao is our dad,” Basilio adds, and you give him a disbelieving glare.

“You didn’t need to let that last detail slip out, gago,” Crispin berates him as he pulls you close to his muscular chest. He lay down on a pillow, one arm propping his head up.

After a few seconds of silence, you say something. “At least let me have some water first.”

“Right.”

The Twins stare at each other.

“One of us has to fetch it,” Crispin says.

“What? Why me?” Basilio complains, scratching his head.

“Because I’m older, and I’ve worked hard to give her two orgasms in a row.”

“Hey! I’m sure that last one was thanks to me.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. “Ugh, please don’t turn this into a competition about who made me cum the most. Just get me my water, pretty please, Basilio?”

At the request, Basilio smiles and dresses haphazardly to get it for you. “Don’t start without me.”

You close your eyes with a smile. Crispin buries his face against your hair and plays with it. “You have him wrapped around your finger, you know?”

You chuckle at the remark, and Crispin kisses your temple. “Just don’t hurt my little brother.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you,” you tell him.

Basilio comes back with a pitcher and some glasses, and once everyone’s hydrated and ready, the night continues.

The Twins spoil you with their attention, hands roaming your body as they planted kisses on your skin. Basilio sucks on your collarbone, biting experimentally and leaving marks that would darken in the morning, which draws a whine from your throat. Not wanting to be outdone, Crispin kisses your back, then the back of your neck, and he found a sweet spot that made you moan at that place where your ear connects to your neck. Basilio observes this and does the same to the other side.

“Hey, um, can I do it in your ass?” Crispin whispers in your ear, almost sheepishly, and you stare at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“Sure. Be gentle. And use a condom.”

“Of course. You go on top. What’s our safeword again?” he asks you, testing your knowledge.

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Eternos.”

“Good girl,” Basilio says.

Flipping yourself around, you lean into Crispin’s lap. “Here, let me help,” you say as you grasp his cock and start to pump. The younger twin behind you reaches for the lube and prepares your ass. You sigh with pleasure as you feel the cold sensation of the product on your skin. Crispin sighs as you slide his length between your lips, head bobbing up and down, and you feel him grow inside your mouth. You give the tip a small lick before doing the same thing you did to Basilio, cupping his balls with your mouth and fondling them with your tongue.

“I want you now,” Crispin rasps, tugging your hair to get you off of him.

You smirk, turning around to give him a great view of your ass. He reaches around for a condom, finds one, and tears the foil open. After sliding the rubber down his shaft, he positions himself against your hole, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. You wince in pain as he starts penetrating you, prompting him to squeeze more lube to relieve your discomfort.

“Relax,” Basilio instructs you, planting soothing kisses at your jaw. You did as he said and unclenched your muscles, entrusting yourself to the two of them.

As Crispin pushes past the ring of muscle, you sigh in relief, discomfort replaced with the feeling of fullness. You lean back into his hard chest, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he starts to move. Meanwhile, Basilio kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit with the head of his dripping cock, but he freezes before he slides it in.

“What?” you ask with concern.

“We’re out of condoms.”

“Just pull out,” you tell him with a strained voice, gasping as Crispin moves inside you.

“No, you don’t understand. We’re demigods. Our… um.. Yeah, we’re really potent.”

You smirk at him. “I’ll ask the girls for something in the morning,” you say against your better judgment. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Cum all over me.”

His cock twitches at your last suggestion.

“Ugh, Basilio, you’re really killing the mood here,” Crispin strains to say, holding you gently by the neck. “I pulled out too, remember? Make up your mind already. I wouldn’t mind having her to myself for now, though.”

“Not a chance,” Basilio retorts, sliding the tip of his cock past your folds and pushing inside.

A loud cry rips from your throat at the sensations, feeling stuffed to the maximum as two cocks start to pump inside you. Crispin’s grip on your neck tightens, while you tangle your hands through Basilio’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

Soon, The Twins find a steady rhythm, syncing their movement so you can feel the full force of their thrusts. Basilio throws one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to massage your clit with his thumb, while Crispin fondles your breasts with his free hand, using the tip of his fingers to roll, squeeze, and pull at your nubs. With every thrust they give, you clench, drawing a groan from both of them as they felt themselves being squeezed by your muscles.

“Oh God,” you whine. “Fuck, you both feel so good.”

“Say our names,” Basilio growls, and you oblige.

You chant their names like a prayer, underscored by the slapping of skin as the Twins fucked both of your holes. Hearing their names only spurred them on, and their movements became more desperate, sweat rolling off of your bodies.

“Basilio! Crispin!”

Underneath you, Crispin gropes at your breast harder, beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead and dripping to your skin. “Your ass feels too good, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed between clenched teeth, and you silently thank Bathala that he’s near his limit. The lube is starting to wash off.

With a few more rough thrusts, he cums, shooting inside the rubber. Crispin cups your jaw and kisses you, deep and sweet, tasting your tongue. You’re on the verge of climax now too, and you give Basilio a desperate look. He understood what you meant.

The younger twin thrusts harder and faster while still rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs furiously, and the older one helps by stimulating your nipples once again. The bombardment of sensation is too much, and you feel white hot heat racing through your body as you cum one last time, voice hoarse as a throaty moan escapes past your open mouth.

The spasm of your muscles is enough to send Basilio over the edge too, pulling out of you and spilling his load all over the mound of your pussy, and your stomach. You feel Crispin slip out of you too. Basilio leans in to kiss you, almost tenderly, but still full of desperation, tongue and teeth.

After a quick cleanup and another drink of water, the three of you lay in a heap of limbs, exhausted. Crispin doesn’t shift at all, content on letting you lie next to him, while Basilio moves next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them on the narrow bed.

Everyone is sated, and with your eyes growing heavy, you wanted nothing but sleep.

“So, who’s better?”

You don’t know who said it, but you raised your hand to give him a middle finger. “Tangina niyo, you’re both good. End of discussion. Now please let me sleep.”

Thank Bathala that they did.

The next morning, all three of you wake up sweaty, stinking, and really, really hungry.

“Good morning to you two,” you sigh, snaking your arms around theirs. Each of them gave you a kiss on your temple. “Damn, I’m starving,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s take a shower and grab something to e-”

Underneath the three of you, the bed’s legs give out, and a loud thud can be heard throughout the house. As you three scramble for purchase, frantic footsteps are approaching, and the door bursts open.

“What was that? Crispin is missing from his room and-” Hank blurts, toting his good ol’ triple barrel shotgun "Ama, Anak, at, Espiritu Santo". Funnily enough, when he sees the tangle of limbs before him, he utters the same words and quickly turns away. Alexandra arrives shortly after, gives them a quick glance, and shuts the door.

Breakfast with their bossing is filled with a mortifying quiet.

You barely touch your food, embarrassment burning your cheeks, and you shoot a glance at your twin lovers.

“Next time, lock the door,” Alex finally says, getting up from the table with a coffee in her hands. She’s too fucking exhausted to deal with this.

“It’s Basilio’s fault!” Crispin yells after her. Basilio made no attempts to defend himself, knowing that he forgot to lock the door again after he came back with the water.

Grumbling, you finally take a bite of your breakfast, jacket draped over your shoulders despite the heat to hide the bruises on your body. “The girls are gonna have a field day when they see me like this.”

“I need to replace the bed,” Basilio mumbles, stuffing his mouth with rice.

The three of you looked at each other, and laughed.

“So, see you next week?” Crispin asks with a smile, and Basilio gives you a pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Yeah. See you two next week.”

Translations for non-English speakers:

tropa: ground of friends. People you chill with

tangina niyo: Filipino profanity. Roughly translates to "you sons of bitches"

Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s Hank’s weapon’s actual name in the comics.

482 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

not allowed iii, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): jungkook x reader x est. relationship yoongi

summary: Your relationship with Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, is unlike anything else in the entire world. At this point, it’s almost like telepathy with how close you are. Still, he surprised you. Such as asking Jeon Jungkook to fuck you. Once. Twice. And this time Jungkook is waiting for you, with Yoongi.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (and they basically have heart eyes whenever they see each other lol); tiny bit of angst; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, voyeurism, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, partial handjob, doggy, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS; takes place after 2021 GDA, yup blond JK is best boy and kind boy

mentions of the pandemic because this is based on real time

–

You closed the door behind you and breathed out slowly. It was late, quite dark outside. Most people would be asleep by now. You unhooked your black face mask from your ears and pushed the hood of your black parka down, releasing your hair.

Ah, there was always stress and adrenaline to get here.

You had stated working again, so you weren't here every day anymore. You had to go back after all, if you wanted to keep your job. You worked from home most days and, with the current state of the world, now it was all the time. Still, you couldn’t take any chances. You made sure to get tested and have your results before coming here. Negative, so you were good.

You turned on the light.

A blond bullet collided into you.

"Oof!"

You had to plant your feet and brace for impact, and you still almost toppled over. You would have if it wasn't for the strong arms that encircled you and lifted you up, making you dizzy as you were spun around.

"Ack, J-Jungkook..."

You could feel your eyes rolling in their sockets. You were put firmly on the ground and still being squeezed to death.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, exclaimed, albeit in a hushed tone, but no less excited. "I was surprised when you said you could come today!"

You managed to blink your eyeballs back in place to see Jungkook's animated face above you, blond hair fluffy and bouncy from spinning you around. He wasn't wearing any makeup and he smelled freshly washed, as if he had taken a late shower. His brown eyes were sparkling as he grinned at you, showing off his bright white teeth. You hadn't seen his ash blond hair in real life yet, only on television.

You smiled at him. "Yeah? Did you miss me?"

Jungkook nodded quickly. "I wanted to show you my hair." He bent down and placed it against your nose. You could smell the nice scent of the herbal product he used. “Do you like it, noona?"

You chuckled. "Of course, I like it," you said fondly, nuzzling the dark roots of the blond locks. It felt nice inhaling his familiar scent, a comforting and clean one. "You're my lock screen."

"I've been betrayed."

You chuckled as you heard the raspy, sleepy voice of Min Yoongi, your boyfriend. Owner of said apartment you were in right now. The lazy center of your universe. The reason why you even bothered to run around in the dark. The reason why you had to match your schedule with the guard shift so the security that recognized you could turn a blind eye. Not all of the security recognized you, just the ones Yoongi had a careful and stem conversation with. That’s how it had to be.

All because Min Yoongi was also SUGA of BTS. Agust D. Lil meow meow. The softest fluff with the sharpest tongue.

You looked up to see Yoongi padding down the hallway in a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of loose black pants. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, squinting, but with a small smile on his lips. Jungkook released you as Yoongi neared, your body automatically wandering towards him. You reached into your oversized parka coat and pulled out your phone. You had changed the outside once again, to a TinyTan SUGA clear case, to show off the multi-chrome purple finish of the BTS S20+. You turned it around in your hand and pressed the side button. The screen lit up, revealing your lock screen.

"Thanks for standing next to each other. It made picking a lock screen much easier."

It was a picture of Jungkook and Yoongi, standing on stage right before the 'Life Goes On' performance at GDA 2020.

"I missed seeing you there," you added softly, holding your phone tightly. It was weirdly emotional, knowing Yoongi was back. How could he ever think anyone was going to forget him? “It’s always better when the seven of you are together.”

Yoongi chuckled, fluffing the back of his black hair. "Ah, back to working hard once again..." he complained, but you could tell he didn't mean it at all.

And for you.

You wanted him to be on stage again. You wanted him to be busy again, doing what he loved, getting into nonsense in Run BTS!, looking cool in photo shoots, back to actively making music all the time. You were an independent person and you didn't necessarily need your significant other to always be beside you. For the longest time, you had even been quite comfortable with it. But the little while of Yoongi's sudden rest made you realize that it was nice to always be around him. To be somewhat normal, even if your relationship couldn’t and would never be fully normal.

And now you were disturbing his sleep. Now, not just his, but Jungkook's too. And maybe... Maybe that made you a burde–

Yoongi suddenly stepped up and tapped you lightly on the forehead with two fingers.

"Stop that train of thought right now."

You frowned and bonked him right back with the back of your hand. "What if I was thinking about dick, huh?"

"If you were thinking about dick, you'd be on Jungkook's right now, and then I'd be pulling up a chair to watch the show."

"What if I was thinking about your dick, hmm?"

"Do you even remember what my dick looks like?" Yoongi replied haughtily.

"Of course, I do. You painted the fucking Mona Lisa on my tits the last time I was here."

"Hm, you're right."

Jungkook was laughing hard behind you, the high-pitched one that came out when he couldn’t help himself. Both of you turned to see Jungkook with his arms around his stomach as he cackled at your bickering.

"It's like..." Jungkook wheezed. "It's like watching hyung fight himself and losing..."

"I’m not losing," Yoongi retorted, pursing his lips.

"You always lose."

"Because I let you win."

"That's true, because you love me."

You smiled cheekily at Yoongi. You thought he was going to give you his usual snappy comeback, but instead he leaned over and kissed your forehead. His hair shaded his eyes a little. He smiled at you, dark brown orbs sparkling.

I do love you.

"You wanna spend all night standing here or are you going to join me in bed?" Yoongi teased, ticking his chin at your sneakers.

You pointed to Jungkook. "Is he coming too?"

The laughter instantly left Jungkook’s face, replaced by nervousness. "Ah... I don't have to..." he stammered. "If you guys want to be alone... I only wanted to say hello..."

"He's coming," Yoongi said purposefully, ignoring Jungkook's ramble. "He's been waiting two hours to stick his dick in you."

"Hyung!"

You raised your eyebrows as you stepped out of your shoes. "I stated my arrival time in the text. Did you not tell him?"

"I told him, but he came right after shooting. Just in case you arrived earlier."

You smirked and tugged on Jungkook’s white shirt. "Did he tell you why I can only come at specific times?"

"I know, but..." Jungkook chewed on his lip. "Hyung said he would try and see if you could come more often."

You smiled ruefully as you took Yoongi's hand and followed him down the hall. You were still holding onto Jungkook's shirt, so you lowered your hand to take his too. He looked surprised for a second before you squeezed it reassuringly. The white with his blond hair was a good choice. You wondered if it was done on purpose. He was even wearing nicer black trousers, although his shirt wasn’t tucked in.

Was it for your sake?

"Ah, I don’t know if that’s possible. Don't want anyone to find out, after all. And," you added with a chuckle. "I don't want to get you in trouble either, Jungkookie."

"He's already in trouble," Yoongi laughed. "Taehyung caught him mumbling your name in his sleep."

Jungkook's cheeks instantly flushed. "I-It wasn't sexual!"

You blinked at him. "No one said it was."

He turned redder and grabbed your parka, hiding his face behind the big hood. "R... right."

Maybe you were being too greedy. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut so Yoongi wouldn’t feel pressure to indulge in your fantasies. Maybe you were asking too much.

The sigh came out of you, heavy with self-doubt.

"Maybe we shou–"

Yoongi's lips were suddenly on yours, kissing you deeply. Your eyes widened as he pressed you against Jungkook's hard body, watching you through half-lidded eyes. He could sense your worry and perhaps he guessed your reaction. You hand reached back to hold onto Jungkook to prevent yourself from falling, but your eyes were on Yoongi, the one who knew you best, the one who knew that he too was asking a lot from you, the one who was trying to remind you that everything was okay. His dark brown orbs were telling you, we will take everything step by step, and his lips moved on yours, I love you. You mouthed it back with a smile.

Yoongi pulled away, the smile reaching his eyes.

"You're the most special person to me."

Your heart softened, hearing those familiar words from your current favorite song.

"I thought that was for ARMY."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow in mock distraught. "Are you not an ARMY?"

"Of course."

"Then it's for you too."

Yoongi was like that. He couldn't and wasn't the kind of guy to write you traditional love songs, but he gave you all sorts of other things. Small things, actions that seemed trivial or nonexistent to others. And maybe someone else would overlook those things, but you knew how difficult it was for him to show affection, even more so because of his job. To be honest, you were similar, showing your love in nuance and teasing. Also, you liked the treasure hunt that was Min Yoongi. And above all, most importantly, he listened to you, listened so deeply it felt like he knew what you were thinking.

There was nothing like the telepathy been you and Min Yoongi.

Jungkook was sniffing your head.

"What's this small?"

You almost laughed at his childlike tone. Yoongi smiled too, leaning forward and sniffing your temple, next to your hair.

"Oh? It's fruity."

"It's peaches," you explained as Jungkook parted your hair to sniff deeper, as if that was going to do anything. He was probably just trying to fuck up your hair. "I ran out of shampoo and they didn’t have my usual at the store."

You were suddenly aware that you were squashed between Yoongi and Jungkook’s bodies as they two of them were smelling you, Yoongi’s arms around your waist, Jungkook’s hands on your hips. Despite being fully clothed, the position was sending tingles up your spine, your breathing shallowing, tickling Yoongi’s cheek as Jungkook brushed your hair to one side, pressing his lips against your bare neck. You felt Yoongi’s lips on your jaw, kissing against your pulse. You whined a little, one hand bunching against Yoongi’s shirt as your other hand drifted down to Jungkook’s right hand on your hip, stroking his knuckles.

Yoongi reached up to unzip your parka.

“W-wait, be careful–” you started, but Yoongi shushed you, nuzzling your cheek.

“I will be,” Yoongi whispered softly. “That’s why Jungkook’s here to help me.”

You bit your lip as Yoongi unzipped your coat with his right hand, using his left to hold the placket down. He kissed up to your mouth as his hands slid into the coat, fingers brushing against the red flannel underneath. Jungkook’s lips were moving up to your ear, lightly nipping at the curve and making you shiver, chest bumping against Yoongi’s as your ass hit Jungkook’s crotch.

“I…” You shut your eyes, trying to concentrate as Yoongi sucked on your lower lip. “I don’t deserve this…”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting at your lip roughly. You opened your eyes to his disapproving glare, eyes dark from his lowered lashes. His large hands squeezed your waist.

“You’re not allowed to say such things.”

You felt the heat spread from his hands, pooling into your core.

“Isn’t that right, Jungkook?”

Yoongi ticked an eyebrow at you as you gasped a little, Jungkook’s lips on your earlobe, voice lustful and deep.

“That’s right, noona. Let Yoongi-hyung and I ruin you.”

…

Help.

Yoongi’s fingers began undoing the buttons of the red flannel, one by one. He was well practiced at unbuttoning shirts with one hand now. A skill that he had honed for himself and for you. He smirked as you noticed, whispering your name in a slow, purring drawl, deep and raspy, dark brown eyes watching you and drinking in your reaction.

Min Yoongi was scary. He knew how to make you wet instantly.

And then Jungkook did the same, breathing your name into your ear in his silvery low octave. Your hand on Yoongi’s shirt clenched and tugged him close, moaning into his lips, kissing him hard. Jungkook’s hand slipped out of yours and reached up to your shoulders, pushing your clothes down, revealing your bare skin. Taking them off you as your tongue slid into Yoongi’s mouth, his soft pants against your lips as your hips grinded into Jungkook’s crotch, feeling him harden at your closeness. Your parka and shirt slid to the floor as Yoongi pulled you forward, closer and closer to the bed, Jungkook encouraging you by smacking your ass with his hips.

Yoongi broke the kiss with a flick of his head, making you whine in disappointment. He chuckled, looking down at you with a devious smile.

“Jungkook wants something from you.”

Yoongi turned you around with his hands on your hips, colliding you with Jungkook’s hard chest. You gasped a little, looking up to see Jungkook chewing on his lower lip, bunny teeth flashing. The tiny mole under his lip bounced with his biting. His golden hair framed his apprehensive brown eyes, finally making eye contact.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You tilted your head. “Do you want me to blow you again?”

Jungkook’s ears flushed red. “A-ah, n-no… I mean, yes, but…”

Yoongi snickered, unhooking your bra with his right hand. He lowered one strap and then the other, stripping it from you and tossing it aside. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink, eyes immediately dropping to stare at your tits. You smirked, placing your palms underneath them and bouncing them a little. You felt Yoongi’s fingers dancing down the small of your back, hovering around the waistband of your black sweatpants.

“Why aren’t you dressed like how you are on your Instagram?” Yoongi muttered behind you. “False advertising.”

“You have an Instagram?” Jungkook blurted out, still staring at your nipples.

You rolled your eyes even though Yoongi couldn’t see you. “Because someone would notice, obviously.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue. “Just one time…”

“Wait, how come I don’t know you have an Instagram?” Jungkook whined, hands coming up to settle on your breasts and squeezing them. You lowered your hands, gasping as Jungkook’s palms rubbed against your hard nipples.

“You never asked,” Yoongi answered, snapping the waistband into your skin. “Also, it’s private.”

“C-can we talk about this later?” you panted out.

Jungkook grinned and dropped his hands a little, brushing his fingers against your nipples. You moaned softly, your vision shaded by your lashes, seeing his mischievous smirk.

“Mhm, as long as you promise to show me after.”

You scoffed. “Sure, it’s not that interestin–” You whimpered as Jungkook pinched your nipples, rubbing them between his fingertips. “A-ah, Jungkook…”

He breathed your name, no honorifics, and your eyes locked with his. Fuck, he was so handsome with his ash blond hair, reminding you of when Yoongi had blond hair. Ugh, so fucking hot. You felt your sweatpants being shoved down your hips but you barely noticed, lost in daydreams of blond Yoongi and blond Jungkook.

“Can I eat you out?”

You were abruptly yanked back into the present by Jungkook’s request.

“Yes.” Fuck. You said that far too fast and far too needy. Jungkook grinned, removing his hands from your breasts. “Ah, I mean…”

He leaned forward, pressing his nose against yours. “You’re out of it today.”

You felt Yoongi’s fingers slip under the waistband of your panties. His lips were traveling down your back, kissing down your spine. You trembled slightly, swallowing as you stared into Jungkook’s dark brown eyes.

And you couldn’t help but think, was this really okay? Was this fair, for you to have both at once?

Jungkook tipped his head, lips against yours. He seemed to sense your hesitation. “I thought you wanted me?” His soft hair brushed against your cheek, golden rays blocking your vision. “Thought you loved looking at me?”

“I do,” you whimpered. “I love looking at you.”

Yoongi fingers pulling your panties down, down, liquid leaking out and clinging to the inside of your thighs. Your cheeks heated, realizing how wet you were.

“Then what’s the matter?” Yoongi purred against your lower back.

“Don’t… don’t want to hurt you, Yoongi,” you whispered against Jungkook’s lips. Your vision blurred and you blinked rapidly. Ah, why was the world so heavy all of a sudden? Why couldn’t you be calm as usual? Why couldn’t you roll with it as usual?

Because you missed them.

Them.

Jungkook kissed you tenderly as Yoongi stood back up, his lips pressed to your ear.

“There’s nothing like us. You know there isn’t.”

He was right, of course. There was nothing like you and Yoongi.

Jungkook pulled back and Yoongi’s right hand appeared in your periphery, his long fingers tucking Jungkook’s blond hair behind his left ear, giving you a clear view of Jungkook’s beautiful eyes, the unique shape, the rich brown color, the way they looked at you, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. Waiting for the heartbreak.

“And there’s no one like Jungkook,” Yoongi murmured. “You want him. He wants you. Isn’t that enough?”

And Yoongi was right again. There was no one like Jungkook.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you breathed. “I’m sorry, but I really do want you so bad.”

“You can have me. However much you want,” Jungkook replied. Eyes locked with yours, meaning every word. He tilted his head, leaning in again, lashes lowering, breath against your lips.

“I want you to take it all.”

But Jungkook wasn’t the only one who said it.

Your eyes widened as you heard Yoongi echo Jungkook’s words right into your ear.

“Take it all,” Yoongi growled. “Take it and don’t hold back.”

Your name fell from Yoongi’s lips, your name, like a spark to fire, igniting you. There no one like Yoongi, snapping you out of your doubt, taking your heart and holding it tight while turning you on. You grabbed Jungkook’s white shirt and yanked his body to yours as you kissed him, inhaling his clean scent, his lips an addiction. And there was no one like Jungkook, because what both of you thought was just a crush, just a one-time thing, wasn’t. For some reason, you couldn’t stop and he couldn’t stop, hooked on the taste of his lips and his tongue sliding against yours, moaning into your mouth as you moaned into his, feeling Yoongi’s hands on your hips, pressing you into Jungkook’s clothed crotch, some of your juices getting onto his pants and staining them.

Jungkook pushed your head up, breaking the kiss and gasping, eyelids fluttering. He pressed your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, kissing down your chest, running his tongue over your skin. You shuddered, head falling back down to watch him. Chocolate orbs to yours as he licked your left nipple, twirling his wet muscle around it, covering it with saliva. You whimpered at the dirty action, arching your back to press the hard nub into his mouth. Jungkook whined in his throat, closing his lips around it as you humped your chest onto his face. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks, intensifying the feeling as Yoongi teased your other nipple, pinching it and rolling it between his fingers.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…”

Your thighs squeezed together, desperate for friction.

Jungkook released your nipple, licking it a few times, letting you watch the swollen nub get slapped back and forth by his tongue. You shivered, hips bumping into his. Jungkook’s strong hands came up to hold you still.

“Don’t waste it by rubbing it all over me,” he teased. “I want it in my mouth.”

You clutched his white shirt and yanked up, making Jungkook yelp with your force.

“Take it off,” you half-growled, half-whined. “Need it off.”

Yoongi chuckled at your impatience as Jungkook wiggled out of his shirt, throwing it aside. He looked back at you, blond hair covering one of his eyes, smirk on his lips.

“Better?”

Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. The shape of his broad shoulders, his sculpted arms, the fucking tattoos that shone on his tan skin, the way his body trimmed down to that v-line. Your eyes roamed down his torso and then back up, licking your lips. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, completely aware of your staring.

“Yes. Much better.”

You took him by the shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. His eyes widened, stumbling a little as he knelt for you, hands coming up to grip your hips for support. You pushed his left hand away, hooking your leg onto Jungkook’s left shoulder and presenting your pussy right into his face. He gasped at the sight, eyes glued to your dripping core, lips parting wetly.

“Fuck,” he breathed hotly. You squirmed, trying to get into his face, but his right hand held you down, drinking in the image in front of him, left hand finding your ass and gripping it tightly. “You smell so fucking sexy.”

“Jungkook, please…”

His eyes flickered up to your face, half-lidded with lust, dipping his head down.

“Can’t resist you,” he mumbled. “I just have to have a taste of his nectar.”

And then his tongue on you, licking a fat stripe across your opening, moaning as your flavor invaded his tastebuds, his hand lifting your ass to tip your hips into his hot mouth. You gasped, pressing into Yoongi’s chest, your hands reaching behind you and gripping his slim waist. You had to tilt your body and lock your upper arms so you wouldn’t bump into his left shoulder by accident. Yoongi hummed soothingly, aware of your consideration, hands gently kneading your breasts as Jungkook’s wet tongue slid into your hole, witnessing your wanton expression as he sucked out your juices, adding a little suction, removing it, driving you insane.

“A-ah, yes, fuck, Jungkook, yes…”

When was the last time Yoongi ate you out? Months ago. Yoongi had a tongue unmatched, the perfect combination of speed, pressure, and technique. His tongue technology, one might say. Jungkook’s tongue was softer, less practiced, but he made up for it with enthusiasm and his intense gaze on you, moaning into your pussy. You slid down a little and cried out as his tongue made contact with your sensitive clit, his tongue pressing against it and swirling, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your thigh tensing against his cheek.

“Mm, yes, Jungkook, right there…”

Yoongi pinched and pulled your nipples. You snuck a glance at him, looking up, and realized he was looking down at you. His lips curved upwards to a playful smirk as he noticed your curious gaze. He tugged at your nipples, earning your soft whines.

“You moved down to put less strain on my shoulder?” he murmured fondly.

You nodded quickly, gasping as Jungkook sucked on your clit, causing you to roll your hips into his face. Jungkook grunted, digging his fingers into your ass, spreading you out under him. Fuck, his mouth was so soft and so warm, adding to your heat. Your hands worked into his hair, pressing him into you, his slurping sounds so lewd that your legs were quivering.

His eyes flickered to yours, pupils dilated, nose in your crotch, and, fuck, Jeon Jungkook was just so hot, on his knees and eating you out like a fucking buffet, his tattooed arm curved around you and your right thigh on his left shoulder, pressing against his cheek as your fingers curled in his blond locks, humping his face to add friction. Either Jungkook was inherently good at eating pussy or he had somehow rehearsed this and, considering his profession, you were guessing the former.

The Golden Maknae lived up to his name in appearance and talent.

You didn’t want to lean too much on Yoongi, so you put more of your weight onto Jungkook. He seemed to feel nothing at all, busy clamping his lips down on your clit and sucking harder. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, wail in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as all of the sensations piled on you at once – Yoongi’s deft fingers playing with your nipples, Jungkook’s scorching mouth and tongue abusing your swollen clit, your hands gripping Jungkook’s soft hair and fucking his handsome face – and it was too much, all too much as your lower lip popped out of your teeth, moaning loudly as your orgasm radiated through you, throbbing waves rippling from your core as you came into Jungkook’s waiting mouth and chin, leaking all over his skin, dripping down his neck. He groaned, vibrating your clit, and you gasped, rutting into his face roughly, pressing your head into Yoongi’s torso.

“Oh, God, fuck, Jungkook, Yoongi…”

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was suffocating or not, but Jungkook himself didn’t seem to give a shit, cleaning you off with his tongue and burying his nose into your pussy, rubbing it against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensitivity, your leg falling off his shoulder as you sucked in a breath. It forced his mouth to retreat, and you were greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s eyes slowly opening, his nose, lips, and chin covered in your glistening, viscous juices. He made eye contact with you, hand coming up to wipe it off, pink tongue sliding out and licking it from the back of his hand.

“Hah…” Jungkook panted, hungrily sucking up your taste. “That’s my drink of choice.”

You chuckled. “Sorry you can’t get it at a bar.”

Jungkook ticked his head, smirking devilishly. “I can if you’re sitting on the bar, legs spread open for me.”

Damn, what a visual. You straightened with the help of Yoongi, only for his right hand to close around your arm, yanking you to the bed. You started, bouncing slightly as you fell onto the mattress. Jungkook seemed amused, standing up to watch with interest. His blond hair was tousled wildly, messy from you holding onto his head. He smirked, lips dark pink from eating you out, the sharpness of his jawline standing out. But you couldn’t stare at him for long, because Yoongi plunged three fingers into your aching pussy, filling you up suddenly. You yelped, snapping your head to Yoongi’s dark, intense gaze, made darker by his black bangs shadowing his eyes.

“Y-Yoongi!”

He purred your name, giving you a teasing smile, tongue against the side of his pink lips.

“Mhm?”

“W-want…” You gasped as he slowly thrust into you, thumb knuckle rubbing against your inflamed clit, pushing his fingers in, your pussy clenching around them. “Want your cock…”

“Sorry, my love,” he murmured. “Can’t yet. Doctor’s orders.”

You furrowed your brows at him, raising your hips to meet his hand. “I’m beginning you think you’re enjoying denying me.”

Yoongi’s foxy smile implied just that. “What are you talking about?” He leaned down, tongue dancing between his teeth, snickering as you whimpered. “I’m not denying you. That’s why I asked Jungkook to come and stuff his big cock into you.”

You whimpered, biting your lip and snapped your legs closed, eyes rolling back into your head as you came all over his hand, soaking his skin and dripping onto the bed. Yoongi moaned softly as he felt your walls pulse against his fingers.

“Fuck, I love it when I can feel you cum for me.”

You shuddered, muscles tingling with pleasure. Yoongi pulled his fingers out slowly, groaning as he felt you tighten around them, trying to prevent him from leaving. He chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Could you help hyung out, Jungkook?”

You shifted your eyes to Jungkook, who suddenly froze, the fly of his black pants wide open, hand down his black boxer briefs. Yoongi noticed your startled expression and turned his head too, both eyebrows raising. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink.

“Er…”

“Were you jacking off just now?”

Jungkook’s eyes darted everywhere except Yoongi’s face. “Er…”

“Show me, Jungkook,” you breathed out.

His large doe-like eyes shot to your body to on the bed, legs spreading, Yoongi’s wet fingers hovering over your quivering mound. He stole a glance at Yoongi, who jerked his head towards you.

“She gave you an order.”

“Hyung…” Jungkook whined. “It’s embarrassing…”

Yoongi shrugged, his fingers touching your swollen clit. You jumped, gasping as he rubbed in slow, large circles, stimulating it gently. The sensitive bundle of nerves throbbed against his fingertips, pussy clenching around nothing.

“Y-Yoongi, don’t, I’m t-too sensitive,” you panted, legs threatening to close once more.

“Keep your legs open,” Yoongi said sternly. “Let Jungkookie see.”

You gritted your teeth, hands twisting in the sheets, hips raising to his hand. “I c-can’t… You’re too good, Yoongi…” You had to lock your knees to prevent them from collapsing inwards, feeling him build his speed, eyes fluttering closed as you moaned once more, feeling the pleasure flood throughout, wetter and wetter, your slit opening and closing. You felt Yoongi lean down, his black hair against your cheek. Oh, fuck. His pine-scented cologne. Sex. Yoongi. You resisted the urge to grab his head and fiercely make out with him. He wasn’t fully recovered yet. His voice was that low, raspy drawl, arousing you just as much as his fingers rubbing your clit.

“Open your eyes and see what you’ve done to poor Jungkook.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook was closer now, right next to the bed, pants and underwear around his knees as he pumped his cock right next to you, eyes fixated on Yoongi’s fingers and your sopping wet pussy, his pouty pink lips wet and open, blond hair all over his face. The head of his cock was an angry red, veins popping out along the thick length as he smeared his pre-cum over the tip with his finger, hissing at the sensitivity. He seemed to feel your stare and then your eyes locked.

“Jungkook…”

Breathlessly, his name drifting out of your lips like smoke.

His dark brown orbs were nearly black with how blown-out his pupils were. He gasped your name out, needy and desperate, his chin lifting, hair falling back to reveal his lustful dark eyes as his mouth opened, pink tongue lolling out a little.

“Wanna cum with you,” Jungkook begged. “Tell when you’re close. Please.”

You nodded, sharply cut off as Yoongi assaulted your clit, forearm nearly vibrating as he pushed you to the edge, so close, so close that you had to chomp down on the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from orgasming right then and there.

“Y-Yoongi, he’s not ready yet…”

Yoongi chuckled. “Oh, I know.”

You whimpered, thighs caving in a little, but Yoongi growled deep in his chest, warning you.

“Don’t close your legs.”

Normally you would fight him, but this situation was different. You wanted to please Yoongi, give him everything he asked for because you knew he couldn’t get everything he wanted. Your core tightened, the pitch of your cries hiking as you tried to hold back, staring at Jungkook’s long fingers wrapped around his thick, stiff cock, black tattoos rippling on tan skin as he chased his climax, watching your legs shake with strain as Yoongi took you to your limits. Your wetness was soaking a puddle into the sheets, the scent of your arousal so strong it seemed to prevail all others.

Fuck, you couldn’t anymore, you just couldn’t.

“J-Jungkook… a-ah, gonna cum soon, fuck, Yoongi, fuck, you’re too fucking good!”

Your last words turned into a wild, guttural moan as you came, hips ramming into Yoongi’s hand, back arching, your orgasm pulling you up taut like a marionette on a string, thighs shaking as your pussy throbbed with release. Your juices dripped down like honey, splattering over your thighs and down your ass before you abruptly fell, legs crumpling as Yoongi’s hand cupped your hot, trembling mound, his heavy pants mixing with yours. He groaned softly, feeling your puffy pussy lips and clit flinch and jerk as the aftershocks rippled through your nerves.

Jungkook whined deep in his throat, splattering his cum all over your leg and on the sheets, hot thick strings that made you shudder as it covered your skin. He pumped it all out, emptying it on you. Surely, you couldn’t muster the strength to take a dick right now. But one look at Jungkook and his hand still gripping his cock, slowly, delicately stroking it once more, staring at the mess that both of you made, sweat beaded on his forehead.

Yeah, no, you definitely wanted it in you.

“Jungkook…”

He raised his head, ash blond strands soaked with sweat, wispy around his eyes.

“Want your cock.”

He smirked. “What do you say?”

Now. You resisted the urge to be a smartass. There were other ways.

“Let noona’s wet, tight pussy take care of you,” you purred.

The dominant spark in Jungkook’s eyes flitted away, replaced by his submissive doe eyes, his desire, his desperation. Fuck, it was so fun seeing that, the duality, reminding you so much of Yoongi and his softness juxtaposed with his sarcasm. Yoongi removed his hand, moving to the nightstand and grabbing a towel, reaching over to wipe Jungkook’s cum off you. You sat up, taking the towel from him as you noticed him leaning on his left arm.

“Ah, be careful,” you reprimanded, shooing him away.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not broken.”

“You’re not fixed either,” you pouted, cleaning yourself up. You made eye contact with him and he clicked his tongue, nodding. Yoongi was about to move away, but you grabbed a fistful of his sweatpants, pulling him back. He tilted his head, sending you an inquisitive look.

“I shouldn’t do any more,” he murmured. “I can just watch.”

You yanked the side of his pants down and Yoongi arched an eyebrow. Your eyes on his crotch, then back to his face. Your lips parted, tongue flickering out. He could put two and two together.

“You can do some things without moving.”

His gaze sharpened. “I’m going to want to fuck your face.”

Your lips curved into a smirk. “Well, you can’t. You’ll have to sit there and take it like a good boy.” You removed your hand and patted the pillows, grinning. “I want to get spit roasted.”

Yoongi sucked in a tight breath, eyebrow twitching.

“It’s not really a spit roast unless you’re the passive one,” Yoongi tried to argue as he tugged his pants down, getting onto the bed. You scooted down, feeling a hard, firm body come up behind you, hands sliding up your waist to cup you breasts. You moaned softly, pressing your ass against Jungkook’s leaking cock, feeling it throb against your skin.

“Need a condom, hyung,” Jungkook panted, exhaling in satisfaction as his fingers ran over your nipples, earning pleading gasps.

Yoongi reached over to grab one as you reached back, running your hand over Jungkook’s semi-hard length, spreading the pre-cum down the head. Your fingertip touched the slit and he shivered, whining against your neck.

“Noona, don’t…”

You took the condom from Yoongi with your free hand, wrapping your fingers around Jungkook’s cock as he moaned, tugging at your nipples repeatedly. Your hips jerked involuntarily, skin rubbing against the sensitive head, making him groan.

“Need you hard for me.”

You stroked him slowly, not too tight, not too loose, his warm cock throbbing in your hand. You felt one of Jungkook’s hands leave your chest, gripping your hand tightly around his cock. His cock swelled at the sudden stop, pressing against your palm. His lips touched your ear and you shivered at his voice, low and dangerous, almost feral.

“Oh, I’ll be hard,” Jungkook snarled softly. “Impossible not to be hard…” His other hand dropped, snaking down your stomach. You tensed up as he neared closer and closer. Yoongi cleared his throat and your head snapped up to see him tilting his head, observing closely with an amused smirk.

“Jungkook, d-don’t…”

“… In this pussy.”

And you moaned loudly, feeling two of his fingers slip down and spread your pussy lips, engorged clit poking out from your repeated orgasms. Even the small stimulation made you wetter, drenching the inside of your thighs as Yoongi’s hungry eyes watched Jungkook spread you open for him to see.

“Spread your legs for hyung,” Jungkook ordered, nipping at your earlobe.

You whined, opening your thighs and tipping them up for Yoongi to see your glistening, pink pussy lips forced open by Jungkook’s fingers, your walls pulsing with need. Your hand was still around Jungkook’s cock, holding his hardness as you watching Yoongi’s right hand enclose his already stiff length, licking his lips at this dirty display.

“Flick her clit, Jungkook.”

You cried out, hips bucking as Jungkook flicked your clit with his nail, releasing his cock and falling onto your hands, staring into Yoongi’s mischievous, triumphant eyes. The condom fluttered to the bed, dropped by the sudden shock of painful ecstasy.

“P-Please…” Too many orgasms, too much pleasure. It was turning you into a mess, taking over you, leaving you at the mercy of the two men, crawling towards Yoongi, ass up in the air as you went low, looking up at him, pleading him. “Need you in my mouth, Yoongi. Wanna make you feel good.”

Yoongi removed his hand, ticking his chin to Jungkook. “Ask him to shove his dick into you.”

You bit your lip, turning back and wiggling your ass, seeing Jungkook roll the condom down. His eyes on yours, sending shivers down your spine with his intense gaze and naughty smirk.

“Jungkook.” Even his name from your lips seemed to darken his chocolate orbs with lust. “Want your cock to fill me up.”

“That’s too nice,” Yoongi chided.

Your ears burned. But, well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Jungkook, please, please use my pussy to cum, fuck, want you inside me so fucking bad.”

He groaned, sliding up to you, gripping your hips, pressing his fingers into your ass, positioning himself right at your entrance.

“You sound so fucking sexy begging for cock,” he purred. “I just have to give it to you.”

And then he plunged into you, both of you moaning so loudly that the soundproof walls were saving you once again, so wet that your pussy squelched around his thick cock. Ah, he just felt so good, so hard and unforgiving, stretching you out forcefully. You turned back to Yoongi, lowering your head as he spread his legs for you, lifting his shirt as you swallowed his cock, eyelids fluttering as his taste was on your lips once again, invading your mouth, familiar and wonderful. You saw Yoongi moan watching you, cat-like eyes shrouded with lust, biting his lip as you sank down, vibrating his cock with your cries as Jungkook’s length fully entered you, his balls hitting your over-stimulated clit.

So full.

Oh, fuck.

You tried to say Yoongi’s name around his cock, hoping your eyes could tell him what you meant. I missed this so fucking much. His perfect length filling your mouth, smelling so good and so him, burying itself in your throat.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed. “Fuck, you look so fucking beautiful taking two cocks at once.”

Jungkook slid out a little and thrust into you. You whimpered around Yoongi, staring into his eyes, tightening your throat muscles as you opened your lips, tongue unfurling down, down.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi hissed, tipping his head back as he felt your tongue on his balls, his stiff cock throbbing as you rubbed it against the roof of your mouth, slapping his balls with your tongue at the same time, warm saliva dripping down and coating them. “Yes, fuck, you’re so good at that, fuck, I love you so fucking much, a-ah…”

And now Jungkook was really fucking you, hard, deep thrusts that shoved you repeatedly onto Yoongi’s cock. You had to retreat your head a little to prevent yourself from choking, but you didn’t stop licking Yoongi’s balls, his handsome face painted with pleasure, murmuring your name, praising you. You swiped your tongue from his balls to the tip of his member, teasing the sensitive skin underneath the head expertly before sliding back down. Up and down, stroking him with your tongue. Yoongi groaned, hips rising into your throat. Fuck, you loved seeing his normally serious face completely consumed by lust, loved the way he lost himself to you.

And, oh fuck, you loved the how you felt as your pussy was assaulted by Jungkook’s cock, stretching you out, pressing against your walls, filling you up as you squeezed him back, massaging all of him as he descended.

“Your pussy is so tight,” Jungkook panted. “Fuck, so tight and so wet, I love it so much, I love fucking you noona, you’re just so fucking good at taking cock.”

You withdrew your tongue from Yoongi’s balls, encasing your lips around his length and sucking hard, creating a tight, wet vacuum, Jungkook’s hips slapping against yours adding to your motion. Yoongi gasped, spreading his fingers on the bed, head pressed into the headboard. His dark eyes were half-lidded, watching your ass bounce as Jungkook fucked you onto his cock, forcing you to swallow him at a quick, rough pace.

“Fuck, I knew it would be good,” Yoongi breathed, gaze shifting to you and your eyes looking up at him, witnessing his satisfied expression. “Look at you. So fucking perfect, lips wrapped around my cock, Jungkook’s dick squeezed by your pretty pussy.” It made you wetter, knowing Yoongi was liking this, knowing he was aroused seeing you like this. His hand came up and tucked your hair back, fingertips brushing against your forehead. His touch made you whine, encouraging you to fuck Jungkook back eagerly, ass slapping into his crotch, bobbing your head up and down faster, tighter.

And Yoongi’s eyes on you, telling you everything. I want you, I need you, I love you.

I love you.

I’ll give you anything I can, because I can’t give you everything.

And Jungkook’s cock was twitching in your pussy, indicating he was close, his husky moans filling up the room as Yoongi’s own breathing shallowed, drinking in every detail, not wanting to miss any moment of you getting fucked so carnally, sinfully full from front to back, whole body shaking from the previous multiple orgasms. You could tell that he wanted you to feel so much pleasure that you were wrecked and it was working, oh, fuck, it was working as pleasure crawled to every fiber of your being, forgetting that your jaw and pussy were aching, forgetting your knees were basically jelly, forgetting you had any other responsibilities in life except making Yoongi and Jungkook cum with your tight, wet holes, so fueled by adrenaline that you rocked your body back and forth, stimulating both at once.

Your eyes locked with Yoongi’s.

Cum for me.

“I’m close,” he murmured. “Tighter. Choke Jungkook’s cock with your perfect pussy.”

You hollowed your cheeks and squeezed your core. You heard Jungkook yelp, fingertips digging into your ass.

“A-ah, c-can’t hold on…” Jungkook rambled, eyes rolling back, gasping for breath. “You’re so lucky, hyung, fuck, so lucky she’s yours.”

Jungkook smacked his hips into you, once, twice, letting out a deep groan as he came, shooting into you, cock throbbing against your walls as his balls slapped your clit, sending you over the edge as you whined around Yoongi’s cock, feeling it jerk in your mouth as he came down your throat, thick, delicious saltiness sliding down, pooling on your tongue, your pussy pulsing in time with Yoongi, drinking him as your pussy shivered around Jungkook’s cock, milking him dry. Your body shuddered hard, trembling from head to toe, the ferocity of your orgasm rattling you, so much so that it felt like the world was spinning. You popped your mouth off of Yoongi’s cock, sliding down against his thigh, wheezing for oxygen.

Yoongi’s hand instantly came up to touch your shoulder, caressing it tenderly. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, hot breath against his skin, knees sliding down, taking Jungkook with you because he also was at the point of exhaustion. Yoongi frowned at you and you gave him a weak thumbs up, cheekily grinning at him, wiping the spit off your chin with his thigh.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you thumbs-up me, woman, tell me you’re not dying.”

You leaned against his thigh, sighing as Jungkook pulled out of you.

“I’m very pleased,” you exhaled happily.

“I’m glad the god is satisfied with her sacrifice,” Yoongi remarked dryly, trying to sound annoyed but his affectionate smile gave him away. You smiled back before turning around, finding Jungkook on his back, chest heaving, hair soaked with sweat. You scooted down to him, brushing ash blond strands away from his face. His eyes were closed, pretty lashes against his skin, cheeks flushed pink with exertion.

“I… I can go…” Jungkook mumbled. “Give you guys some alone time and stuff.”

“Jungkook.”

His opened his eyes, brown orbs shifting to you. Apologetic, kind.

“Do you want this to be more?”

His lips curved into a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No. This is fine.”

“Don’t lie to her,” Yoongi scolded, moving to sit beside you and glare down at him.

Jungkook swallowed, looking away. “I don’t… I don’t want to be a burden, hyung. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.”

“Don’t you think you would have done that already if that was possible?” Yoongi scoffed, placing his hand on yours, rubbing your knuckles.

Jungkook eyes flickered to your joined hands, then to your face.

“R-Really…?”

You exchanged a glance with Yoongi and he poked your forehead, exasperated.

“Have I not maybe yourself clear with you?” Yoongi grumbled grumpily. His eyes shifted down, letting out a long sigh. “I can’t give you everything. I can’t go on dates. I can’t kiss you in public. I can’t even hold your hand or stand near you outside this fucking door.” The frustration was clear in his voice. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was okay, but you resisted, letting him get his words out. He turned to Jungkook, his dark brown eyes serious and sad.

“You can’t do that either, you know? It’s lonely. It sucks. You can only have moments like these, behind closed doors.”

Jungkook looked up at him, expression unreadable.

“Then why… why did you share it with me?”

“Because,” Yoongi started, eyes flickering to you. “Because I wanted to make her happy. Because I can’t do everything, but I can do some things. And because Bangtan is everything to me.” Yoongi was mumbling a little, not used to this level of emotion. “If I can maybe make you happy too, Jungkook, why wouldn’t I try?”

You could see Jungkook was also awkward because this was a delicate situation with even more complicated emotions, made more complex that they were two members of the same idol group, almost like brothers in closeness, held to the same rules and the same restrictions. Jungkook blinked rapidly, clearing his watering eyes. He looked away, hastily rubbing them with the back of his hand.

“Will it… Will it be less lonely if I’m with you, hyung, noona?” The younger man swallowed hard, clearing his vision and looking back up at both of you, brown eyes glassy. “Will it… suck less?”

You smiled, nodding slowly. “It would suck a whole lot less.”

Yoongi made a noise of affirmation, scrunching his nose. He was also blinking quite a bit, although he hid it better than Jungkook did.

Jungkook slid his right hand on the sheets, in front of your joined hands. Yoongi’s eyes darted about before he inhaled deeply, picking up your hand and plopping it on Jungkook’s, sandwiching it between the two larger palms. You pressed your fingertips against Jungkook’s knuckles, feeling Yoongi’s reassuring pat on the back of your hand, warmed from above and below.

Yoongi gave you his usual, apprehensive smile, as if he didn’t know what to do with his face when being told to look happy.

Jungkook grinned, bright bunny teeth flashing, eyes and nose scrunching with affection.

You couldn’t resist.

“Is this allowed?” you asked with a wide smirk.

Yoongi laughed, raspy and pretty.

“Definitely not.”

Jungkook sat up a bit, furrowing his brow as if he just remembered something.

“Wait, what about noona’s private Instagram tho–”

part iv “That's not allowed! You know what that does to me.“

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #suga x reader #min yoongi smut #jeon jungkook smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #bts smut #suga x you

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

Hello Sunshine

A/N: Hello! I’m here with a 7am shower idea that I couldn’t get out of my head. It’s just a little sweet and soft Frankie. Enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

*Bold - Frankie ; Italics - Reader

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: none

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey! What time did you want to meet up tomorrow for brunch?” you stared at the number you’d typed in and compared it to the one that the man you’d met the evening before had given you. You had been absolutely reluctant to go to the local bar’s speed dating evening before, but your best friend had convinced you to go. She was going to go as well, so you figured if you ended up suffering, she would likely too - solidarity in its finest form. Much to your pleasant surprise however, you ended up having a fun time...the multiple rounds of drinks probably didn’t hurt either.

Marcus had been your last round for the evening, and he had been kind and charming; easy on the eyes and easy to make conversation with. He asked you questions and you were able to ask him ones back. Definitely a sharp turn from what you were expecting; and by the end of the night he’d offered you his number and asked you to for brunch on Sunday. You’d been...elated; it had been some time since anyone had actually managed to capture your eye.

Before talking yourself out of sending the message, you hit send and put your phone onto your nightstand. You weren’t too nervous in general, but there was something about sending that first message that always caused butterflies to erupt into your stomach. It wasn’t but a few minutes before your phone vibrated to signal a new message. Trying not to get too eager and excited, you reached for it and quickly opened the new text.

Who is this?

Your brow furrowed in confusion at the seemingly hasty denial of acknowledgment. It was no matter, you groaned at yourself, you probably should have included your name in the first place. No big deal, you quickly typed out your name and added, “we met at the bar last night? For the speed dating event?”

Your stomach flipped nervously as you wondered what he would say; hoping it was just a misunderstanding and he would realize exactly who you were.

I didn’t go to any bars last night. I don’t know who you are.

Oh. Your throat constricted as you reached for the napkin with the phone and compared it again to the number you had texted. There was no way you’d mistaken any of the numbers. Sighing heavily, you slipped out of bed and edged towards your bathroom and tossed the offending object into the can. Things had seemed like they’d gone so well...you’d genuinely liked Marcus and thought the attraction and chemistry was there on both sides. Apparently you’d been made a fool once again. Heat flooded your face in embarrassment as you contemplated whether or not to text again. To hell with it, you decided, you might as well apologize if nothing else.

So sorry. The guy I met must have given me the wrong number. I hope I didn’t ruin your night. Sorry for wasting your time.

After that bit of failure, you decided you might as well get back into bed and watch a show until you fell asleep. You felt beyond embarrassed and just wanted to forget about the whole thing. Needless to say, it surprised you when your phone went off again.

No worries. Sorry if I was rude too. It’s happened to me before with a couple of girls. It sucks.

At this point, you found yourself smiling at the sentiment, and decided that one more little text wouldn’t hurt anything.

Seriously! Why can’t someone just tell you if they’re not interested? It's so much easier. Either way - thanks for understanding and have a good evening.

You too. Hope things look up soon for you.

His response had been instant almost as if he had been watching you type it all. Whoever this stranger was - and you weren’t even sure if it was a man or woman - they had turned out to be kinder than Marcus. But it didn’t do well to dwell on it; Marcus would get what he deserved and this stranger would get some good things.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie put his phone on the charging pad he kept next to his bed, turning it on silent before crawling under the covers. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, he was surprised to see that he had a smile on his face. Not that was perpetually frowning or mad, but usually he wasn’t just smiling for no reason.

Although he had a feeling he knew the exact reason as to why he was actually happy for once because of...you. The random stranger that texted him and sent a happy shiver up his spine. He wasn’t happy because of your little predicament, knowing the exact feeling of having been duped and given the wrong number several times. But the short conversation had been pleasant enough and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d hear from you again.

Doubtful, he reminded himself, it was just a one off type deal and that was that. And yet...that didn’t stop him from quickly grabbing his phone again and saving your name and number as a contact. You know...just in case.

Francisco Morales had sweet dreams throughout that night. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie practically bounced into work the next morning, a smile on his face and spring in his step. So he seemed so out of normal form that his best friend and coworker, pointed it out to him and everyone. Frankie played it off like it was no big deal; in reality it wasn’t. You were just another stranger out in the world that flung into his orbit for a moment before leaving again.

But that whole week felt different and somehow the world was a little brighter - filled with sunshine. Even if it wasn’t everlasting, he didn’t mind the feeling it gave him for the moment; the positive energy was nice for a change.

Little did he know that across the city, you were existing in your own little world, going about your day to day in a similar manner. What a small world it was indeed. You had been incredibly tempted to look up his phone and see if you could find anything out about your mysterious stranger, a name, some sort of profile - anything - but refrained. What if it was someone you ended up attracted? A beautiful woman or a good looking man that caused you to start all sorts of fantasies? No - you didn’t need all of that. You’d let it go or let whatever happened happen.

Which likely was nothing. Right? Right.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Imagine your surprise when you found yourself at home with leftover pizza and a bottle of wine, resigning yourself to a quiet Saturday night when your phone vibrated. Figuring it was probably just one of your friends, or some sort of useless notification, you picked up your phone and found your jaw dropping. This wasn’t seriously happening, was it?

Hey stranger. Hope this Saturday is better than the last one.

Maybe they had the wrong number...or something. But no - they acknowledged the fact that last weekend had been shit and called you stranger. This had to be intentional. Setting your phone down for a moment, you grabbed your glass of wine and sipped on it, trying not to let the excitement of a single text get you too excited. They had done what you’d dreamed about all week...why not indulge in it? If nothing else, it might be nice to have someone to text with on occasion.

Hi stranger. This Saturday involves me, the couch, pizza, and wine. I guess I really can’t complain. Hope yours is a good one too!

As soon as you hit send, you wanted to ban your head against the wall; was it too much? Not enough? Did it even warrant a response? Now you were just overthrowing everything. Shit, fuck, damn.

But you weren't able to wallow in misery for too long before your phone went off again. Huh.

Sounds pretty good. Can't complain either, just at home with a beer and a movie. Missing the pizza though. Maybe I'll order some.

Definitely recommended! I don't know if this is odd, but you know my name and I don't know yours...do you have a name, stranger?

Not weird at all! Maybe I should have started with that. Francisco - Frankie.

Well Francisco-Frankie, it's nice to meet you. What movie are you watching?

Nice to meet you, no- longer-complete-stranger. Die Hard. A classic.

Oof. I'm afraid it ends here. Hot take - Die Hard is...notthatgood.

It's been a good but short time…how can you not like Die Hard!? What could you be watching that's so much better?

The Office. A modern classic and clearly superior to anything you're picking if you think Die Hard is good.

Fun fact - I've never seen a single episode of the Office. And never plan on it. Tell me, mystery girl, what should I get on my pizza?

I now make it my plan to convince you to watch The Office. Pepperoni, jalapeños, and tomatoes. Regular crust, none of that thin crust bs.

Challenge accepted. An odd combination but I'll give it a try. Results tbd.

Already listening - I'm a fan of it. I'll let you get back to your movie and order your pizza. Have a good night Francisco-Frankie.

You too, mystery girl.

There was an undeniably giant grin on your face as you set your phone back down. Had this actually happened? Surely this was some sort of dream; a random stranger actually striking up a conversation? And seemingly enjoying it? Out of this world.

As you downed your glass and got ready to refill it your phone vibrated once again. This time you didn't even bother to let a moment pass before picking it back up and opening the notification.

Can I text you again sometime?

Yeah...I'd like that.

You just about melted into the couch, happier than you had been in a long time. And all from texts from a man you still hadn't met. Who knew if you would ever meet him? Either way, this Francisco aka Frankie had proven to be a welcome disturbance in your life.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next couple of weeks passed in the same blissful fashion. You'd go about your day with work and other responsibilities and obligations but you had your pocket companion with you. That's what you nicknamed Frankie anyways.

What has started as some texting here and there soon turned into conversations throughout the days, slowly becoming more personal and introspective with each passing day. And despite still knowing what he looked like or anything...you thrived in it. You'd wondered if he'd looked you up - he hadn't for the same reasons as you - and that's why you got along so well.

The two of you had a lot in common but still managed to have your differences. One thing that never failed to make you smile was what had turned into his version of a good morning text.

Hello Sunshine.

Hi Fly Boy.

Stay dry today, its supposed to be a pretty bad downpour. Talk later?

Of course. Be safe too.

The small sentiment was enough to send you reeling; it was funny how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Like in some ways you'd always known each other, but still were finding out things constantly. You weren't sure where it would lead to...if anything but for now you appreciated your new found friend.

»»————-　♡　————-««

I have a work party this weekend and it's formal. Do I go for an lbd or something colorful?

Depends - do you want people to approach or admire from the distance?

From the distance, so I can leave fairly quickly but people still know I was there.

Definitely LBD then.

My hero! Perfect idea!

»»————-　♡　————-««

How do I get out of a camping trip this weekend?

Why would you try and get out of it? You said you loved camping.

I do but...just not feeling it this weekend.

Tell them you're feeling or that your new girlfriend wants to spend the weekend together.

New girlfriend? I wasn't aware I had one…

Its called a white lie Frankie. Use me as an excuse if you have to.

You're the best! A real lifesaver, sunshine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Okay, here's a tough one. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

All three. But if only one - coffee.

How do you take it?

Black with a little bit of sugar.

That's kind of the vibe I got! But you're wrong - the best answer is coffee in the am, afternoon tea, and then sometimes a hot chocolate for dessert.

Let me guess - salted caramel hot chocolate?

How did you know?! Alright, Fly Boy, you know me too well already.

Just a hunch, sunshine. Okay - favorite color?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Do you think if I pretend to be dead I can leave work early?

Dramatic! I love it. How about a migraine? Last minute emergency?

Probably better. Migraine it is.

Just a thought. Beers with the guys tonight?

Yup. Girls night?

Yes! Talk tomorrow?

Of course.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Soooo I might have gotten myself into a predicament…

What happened?

Umm, I might have lied and told my friends that I started seeing someone…

Oh no.

Yeah...all because I couldn't admit that that guy had given me the wrong number. How do I explain?!

Maybe just don't say anything and then later say it died down or something? No need to drag it further.

You're right and I am an idiot.

Nah, it happens to the best of us.

Hmm sure. Anyways, onto important things. Dogs or cats?

»»————-　♡　————-««

If you could only have one type of food for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?

Hmm, that’s a hard one. I’m torn between Mexican (the good stuff of course) and Italian and sushi. You?

Pizza!

That’s not a type of food, Francisco!

It totally is. There’s different varieties, it can count!

That’s a cheap way to answer the question, but I’ll accept it because you’re cute.

You think I’m cute? And just how do you know? Do I have a stalker?

Nah, too much effort. Besides, I’m usually busy talking to you. It would be kind of obvious if I was, wouldn’t it? I just have a feeling.

Very funny, sunshine. I’m positive it’s the other way around.

You’re the stalker? What am I wearing right now?

You know what I meant!

Of course I did. I’m the smart one in this duo, don’t forget.

You’re too much. Want to watch a movie tonight? We start at the same time?

Yes! Anything but Die Hard or other shitty movies along those lines.

You’re killing me here. One day I will convince you to watch it with me.

I look forward to that - but not tonight. Name your top 3 ideas.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Over the weeks, Frankie became an everyday part of your life. The two of you texted back and forth throughout the day as time allowed. It was nice - comforting to have him there despite the fact that he could have been anyone in the world. Well, you knew he was local to you from his area code but otherwise...a mystery.

You wondered if you’d ever encountered him out in the real world before. It was a definite possibility, but you would never know. Not unless you somehow actually ended up meeting him in person. The idea of proposing such a notion hadn’t seemed far off, especially since your days were filled with each other and there were undeniably flirty texts and insinuations. The few times you’d actually gotten the nerve up to just ask him, something always seemed to come and keep you from doing it. Namely - nerves.

What if you were reading all wrong into this? What if he really wanted nothing more than a friendship? What if texting was the extent of it all?

Naturally, you’d know your answer if you’d just fucking ask him. But that seemed like a momentous and herculean task and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be up for it. Perhaps things would just...happen one day. Despite getting to know him, he was still just this enigmatic aura. For all you knew you might as well have been fighting a robot.

When then...one random night, a Wednesday evening when you’d just walked in the door with fresh produce from the downtown farmer’s market, your phone name. Shifting the large bags in your arms, you managed to fish your phone out of your pocket and answer it without looking at who it was.

“Hello?” you kicked the door shut behind you and shuffled into the kitchen, unceremoniously dumping the bags onto the counters. At first you didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line besides some shuffling, but then eventually you heard a distant voice say something indiscernible. In confusion, you pulled the phone out from between your ear and shoulder and glanced at the contact. The name was enough to have your breath catch in your throat as you realized that your mysterious Frankie on the other end. He’d never called before...perhaps it had been a mistake? Even if it was, you were going to take full advantage of it, “Frankie? Hello? Come on Fly Boy, it’s me. If you can hear me, let me know.”

It was a few more seconds of shuffling and almost static like noise before you were positive you heard a quiet fuck. But then, in a moment that made your heart almost stop, you heard him, loud and clear, “h-hi….sunshine?”

“Hi Frankie,” you repeated as you felt your heart melt and legs turn to jelly, “I’m going to guess this wasn’t an intended call?”

“Umm, shit no,” he admitted with what you could only describe as a nervous laugh, “accidental pocket dial.”

“It’s 2021 and you’re pocket dialing people?” you snorted with laughter as you grabbed your earbuds to sync up the bluetooth so you could talk to him while putting away all of the fresh fruits and veggies you had acquired, “that’s such an old person thing, Frankie! What are you 50?”

“It’s not that weird,” he insisted with an indignant scoff as you giggled, “it can happen easily if you don’t lock your phone when you put it away and yeah...here we are. And for the record I am nowhere near 50! I am only 36.”

“Oof,” you opened the fridge and popped the veggies into the drawer, “I’m afraid that things end here, Grandpa.”

“Very funny! How old are you then, huh? Oh my God - please don’t tell me I’ve been talking to and flirting with a teenager,” for a moment he sounded genuinely nervous as you almost doubled over in laughter at his panic. The fact that he had admitted to flirting was lost on you in your amusement he was so worried that he didn’t even notice the gaff, “sunshine!”

“I’m almost 30,” you reassured him and he instantly sighed in relief on the other end, “don’t worry. Besides, I told you I met the man I thought I was texting at a bar - at least I would have been 21.”

“That still would have been weird,” he admitted as you made a small sound of agreement, “this is better.”

“Ha! Thanks for the sentiment,” you rinsed and crunched on a carrot before hopping onto the counter to get comfortable. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should say your next words or not...but you decided to just do it, “this is...nice. I like hearing your voice. Makes you more real.”

“I like it too,” he agreed softly, a tinge of pink rising up in his cheeks, despite the fact that you couldn’t see it, “you sound like I thought.”

“Oh? Like an annoying twelve-year-old boy?”

“Okay, okay, dramatic much?” he snorted, “just accept the compliment!”

“Fine,” you huffed, being very overdramatic indeed, “what are you up to tonight, Frankie? Want to cook together?”

“I’m yours - free, I mean free,” he corrected himself as you relished in his little mess up, “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook. I’m a better baker.”

“Ooh, excellent,” you slid off the counter in excitement, “how about this - we’ll make something simple for dinner - I’ll walk you through it step by step, and then you’re in charge of dessert. Deal?”

“Deal,” Frankie felt a rush of excitement surge through him as he stepped into his kitchen and reached for his apron - the same one that Santi always made fun of him for, “what’s on the menu?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

And just like that texts turned into texts and phone calls. There was something so thrilling, like a huge surge of electricity shot down your spine and throughout your body every time you saw his name up pop or heard the sound of his voice. Frankie was...slowly turning into your constant companion and if you were being honest with yourself he was everything you had had ever wanted.

And oh - how scary it was to be falling for a man you still hadn't met in person. Slowly, surely it would happen. Gods, you wanted it to happen so desperately. But you were painfully shy when it came to the idea of asking him out and little did you know, he was feeling exactly the same way. Frankie wanted nothing more than to finally ask you on a proper date, to spend all those times laughing with you in person. But he just...continually talked himself out of it.

He was just so shy, so nervous and he thought it would be impossible that someone like you would actually go for a guy like him. He was just...fly boy and you were his Sunshine. Frankie had given you the name early on, deciding that it was appropriate because you brought a little bit of sunshine into his life every day. It had almost brought you to tears - not that you'd admit that to anyone - not yet anyway. His nickname was simple - he was a former military pilot and now a part time ‘whenever he got the chance pilot’ - Fly Boy. It was perfect and he adored it as much as you.

And yet neither of you, pining silly fools had been able to make that final move. One day, you both reminded yourself constantly, one day.

And one day turned out to be sooner than either of you expected...

"Mmhmm," you murmured into the phone as you scoured the bookshelves of your local little bookstore. You had a rare afternoon off and to treat yourself to a nice coffee and searching for a new read. You'd fallen out of reading regularly and had made it a point to get back into it, aiming for a book month. Naturally, your friend had called you at that exact time, "of course pizza is always a good choice."

Frankie hummed under his breath as he walked through the aisles looking for the book you had recommended to him. He hadn’t thought much about the woman he saw a few rows over with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. He did note, however, that the tone of her voice was sweet - not that he was trying to listen in on her conversation.

“Yes it is!” you laughed into the phone, trying to keep it down when you noticed the man in your peripheral vision and aimed to keep from disturbing him, “pizza is good for whenever you don't know what to make. And you know the best - pepperoni, jalapenos, and tomatoes. No contest.”

Despite not trying to listen in to your conversation, as soon as he heard you describe pizza, his perked up and immediately his heart started pounding. A nervous rush of energy flowed through him as he tried to get a better look at you without making it obvious. Holy shit - was this actually it? Was he about to meet his Sunshine?

“I even told Frankie,” you insisted with a small smile as you took a sip of your coffee, “he liked it too. Yes...of course I’m still talking to him...I-I really like him. I hope that one day I can meet him. I keep wanting to ask and then I get so nervous and talk myself out of it. He’s just...lovely.”

This definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, right? The particular type of pizza, Frankie, wanting to meet - this had to be you. And the more he listened, despite his initial efforts, he couldn’t help but zone in on you. And now, hearing your voice unfiltered and unaltered through the phone, he knew it was you. He just stopped in his tracks as he watched you, a silly little smile on his face as he realized that somehow the universe had decided to throw him a bone.

“Mhmm,” you murmured into the phone, “of course. I’ll talk to you later!”

Ending the call, you shoved your phone into your pocket and reached for one of the books that had piqued your interest. Sliding it out and reading over the back, you quickly got lost in your thoughts until you heard a throat clear behind you. Assuming you were in someone’s way, you shuffled to the side without glancing at who it was. But then you heard it - quiet and shy but clear, “Sunshine?”

At the sound of the nickname you’d been given by only one person throughout your entire life, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest as your body froze. Surely..surely this couldn’t be happening…

Turning around, slowly, painfully slowly, you found yourself staring at a face both brand new and immediately familiar. You’d never seen him before, but instantly it was like you knew him, all of him. In some ways you supposed, you did.

“F-Frankie?” almost getting choked up, your voice was barely above a whisper as the handsome man in front of you slowly nodded. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as his whole features lit up with excitement. His brown eyes were soft and crinkled in the corners as his grew grin and a one singular dimple appeared. You weren’t really sure what you had pictured when you’d thought about your mysterious friend, but somehow this was right on the mark. You blinked a few times, trying to hold back your tears of sheer excitement, “you’re real after all!”

And then he laughed. A beautiful, glorious sound that caused a surge of warmth to rush through your entire body. He really was just as lovely as you’d dreamed.

“Did you really think you were talking to a robot this whole time?” he asked as you flushed with warmth but stuck your tongue at him, “I can’t believe it’s really you. After all these months...finally. I’ve been wanting to ask you for so long but I didn’t think…”

“Me too,” you agreed, “me too. Small world, huh?”

“I was just looking for the book you recommended last night,” he admitted as you practically glowed with excitement. Holding up a finger, you turned around and quickly found the book in question and displayed it for him, “I didn’t think I’d find the book and the woman I’ve been talking to for months.”

“How did you know it was me?” you asked as you walked over to him and he offered up a sheepish grin.

“The pizza.”

“The pizza!” you snorted with laughter, “I should have known. Too obvious.”

“I like to think that everything happens for a reason,” he tried to take the book from your hands but you just shook your head, “what?”

“This is going to be from me to you,” you insisted as a tinge of pink welled up in his cheeks, “a souvenir from the day we met!”

“I’ll treasure it forever,” he promised and you could tell he meant it, “what are you doing tonight? Now?”

“I dunno,” you feigned innocence, “I was planning on going home to cook and talk to this guy I’ve been falling for for months, but that seems a little weird now.”

“Will you let me take you to dinner - a date? A real date?” he asked as you beamed at him and nodded. How could you ever say no.

“Only if you take me to that Italian place you told me about!”

“Whatever you want, Sunshine,” he promised as he reached for your hand and gently laced your fingers together. It felt so easy, so effortless, and you didn’t even have to think about - natural.

“You,” you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing his cheek, “just you, Frankie.”

“Sweet Sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #hello sunshine #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales

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tumbledfreckles · 3 years ago

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Absolutely!

She should not be doing this. She knows she should not be doing this. She'd been warned against doing this.

But really, Quidditch practice ended half an hour ago. Surely he would have cleaned up by now. Right?

Hope this works! <33

This has not been edited, and it should have been edited, but screw it, I loved this prompt, I've stayed up way past bed time to write it, I wrote 1800 words instead of the 500 I planned, so have it in it's unedited glory and don't judge me too harshly. It's late, but its shirtless James Potter May or Jumpers off for June or really, just a thirst trap drabble to get your week going well.

Lily knocked softly on the door to the locker rooms, her breath caught in her throat, a thrum of anxiety running in her veins. When there was no sound, no answering call, no bid to enter, she paused for only moments, before biting her lip and pushing on the door handle.

She should not be doing this.

Her footsteps were quiet as she made her way down the long corridor that led to the locker rooms. Doors of the unoccupied rooms were shut, her finger tips dragged against the names of each team as she went. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and then finally, at the very end, Gryffindor. Unlike the others, this door was set slightly jar, light seen through the gaps, but no sounds emerged. The team had clearly departed.

She knows she should not be doing this.

Lily gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath as she pushed open the door, wide enough for her to slip through. It closed gently after her, allowing her to lean back against it, hands still caught on the handle behind her. She clutched the handle for dear life, knowing she should turn it and go back through. Knowing that to go further into the room was a boundary she shouldn’t cross.

She’d be warned against doing this.

As expected, the locker room was at least empty. She’d never been in here before, not being on the team, and never before having anyone she’d wanted to follow into the abyss. The reality was as bad as Lily had imagined. Likely due to the graces and actions of the house elves, it was cleaner than expected. There were no used towels piling around, no dirty, soiled uniforms discarded. The walls were filled with posters and pictures of Gryffindor Quidditch teams throughout the years. Banners and scarves lined the players' open lockers, caught on the name plates fastened above each one.

Almost as soon as she noted the name plates, her eyes caught on one in particular. A name that had fallen from her lips more often than her own had this year. A name that used to come out with derision, but was now pronounced with warmth, with feeling, with an unexplainable but inexplicable feeling of joy. The locker below it was the least orderly of them all, clothing still hung on the hooks, shoes and boots underneath the bench seat in front of it. Shin guards and pads and flying goggles still littered the bench and shelf.

The captain himself was nowhere to be found however. The sound of running water drew her attention to another doorway, at the far end of the locker room. Steam poured out of that room, leaving Lily in doubt that it was the way to the showers. Somewhere she definitely shouldn’t be going. She could wait out here for him. She only wanted to check on him, close the loop on their earlier conversation. She felt guilty for leaving him hanging, but that was no reason to follow him into the showers, surely.

But, really, Quidditch practise ended half an hour ago. Surely, he would have cleaned up by now. Right?

With that solid, solid reasoning ringing in her brain, spurring her on despite a wealth of misgivings, Lily moved forward. Her heart was racing but her movements somehow remained slow, cautious.

“Potter?” she called at the doorway.

No answer came.

Lily shook her head, cheeks already turning red as she contemplated her next action seconds before completing it.

She was only two steps in when she pulled up short.

James stood under the shower, mere metres from where Lily herself stood. A low wall hid most of his lower anatomy, but his back was on full display. Water ran in rivulets over strong, broad, tanned shoulders. It drained off his elbows as James reached to scrub at his hair, a movement Lily had seen him do a million times across their seven years of schooling, but never when he was wet. Certainly not when he was otherwise naked. His back arched, showing the muscles down his spine, lifting the beginnings of the curve of his arse into view.

“Fuck,” Lily whispered, her mouth having gone completely dry.

Of course, while he hadn’t heard her earlier call, he heard her quiet swear. Or maybe he’d felt the weight of her entranced, intoxicated stare. Before Lily could remove herself from a situation she definitely shouldn’t be in, even if it was the most beautiful site she’d seen all day, all week, all year, James turned.

“Lil- Evans,” he said in surprise, jumping slightly, before shutting off the water and reaching for the towel resting on the edge of the wall. “What’s wrong?”

“Noth- shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -”Lily started, taking a step back, only she missed the doorway and landed against the wall next to instead.

It really wasn’t her fault she couldn’t focus.

If James’ back with a gift of meticulously carved marble, smooth skin and muscle that Lily just wanted to sink her teeth into, then his front was a bloody work of art. Well defined pectorals sat prominently, on his chest, surrounded by curved shoulders, impressive biceps that helped his brilliant throws on the field. Pools of water had collected in the curve of his collarbones, enough that Lily could have lapped happily to ease her suddenly restricted throat.

She’d seen glimpses of his abdominals before. He was always reaching for his hair, running a hand through the beautiful, silky locks, she couldn’t help but get flashes as his shirt, or t-shirt, or jumper lifted up. Especially when he was already stretching back across the couch, complaining about the Prefect’s schedule, the points schedule, or the meeting schedule. Any schedule really, just because he knew it would rile her up. So she’d seen his stomach from time to time. Knew his prowess on the Pitch couldn’t come from someone who wasn’t totally fit. But seeing it glistening, rippling as he moved, shadows from the dimmed bathroom lighting emphasising each curve, well…

It was really more than one girl could be expected to take.

“Evans,” James tried again, frowning as he finished wrapping a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower area toward her. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Lily tried not to focus on how the twisted knot of the towel sat dead centre below his navel. How it drew the eyeline down. How the muscles in his sides pointed down like an arrow toward that knot, making her wonder what was underneath the knot.

“Uh,” Lily forced her eyes up. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you.”

She pretended not to notice how droplets collected on his eyelashes, so much easier to see without his glasses. How his face was devoid of its usual smirk, concern etched across his face instead, furrowing his brow, straightening his smile.

“Sure,” James glanced around, “I was coming back to the castle, you could have waited.”

“I couldn’t,” Lily blurted, before she could stop herself. “I couldn’t wait.”

James quirked an eyebrow, but paused in his steps, now less than three steps from her. At this distance, she could smell him. He was perfumed by that familiar scent of pine and spice, but in the heat and the humidity of the room it surrounded her, consumed her. She tried to take a deep breath in, to focus and prepare herself, but all it did was allow the scent to overwhelm her.

“Well, have at it, Evans,” he encouraged. “I’m listening.”

“Well, before, earlier.. You, uh… you asked, well and I, you, I didn’t,” Lily sighed impatiently at her stuttering, rolling her eyes before realising that meant she couldn’t look at him. Tried to remind herself not to look at him, it was clearly too much to look at such a sight and string a sentence together. Much more of her blithering and he wouldn’t care for what she had to say, mad woman that she was.

“Still waiting, Evans,” James teased now, a small curve of his lips appearing now. He seemed to be realising what had her in such a fluster, and took another step forward. Within reaching distance. Touching distance.

“Oh, fuck it,” Lily breathed, and gave in.

There was no resistance as she reached out and snagged James by the hand, then his waist, then his neck. She tugged his head down, and it came easily until, with a final push on her toes, she crashed her lips against his. His mouth moved without hesitation, giving as good as he got, pushing her back into the wall with a satisfying oof, his teeth finding her bottom lip, pulling it until her mouth opened and the punishing kiss turned into something deeper, sweeter, more satisfying.

Lily’s hands threaded into his hair, before dancing down to shoulders, stroking along his chest. She couldn’t pick a place she wanted them to rest, so she just didn’t, and touched and admired and petted to her heart’s content. James didn’t appear to mind her cheek was cupped, her waist wrapped up with one of those delicious arms she’d admired. He was still warm from the shower, still damp from neglecting to dry off, and she could feel that heat pushing through her clothes, flattening them against her, allowing his touch to burn through to her needy skin.

Without meaning too, having not consciously thought the action through, Lily’s hand landed on the knot in the towel she’d been so focused on moments earlier. The action gave them both reason to pause, and James pulled back just enough as they panted for breath and stared at each other.

She’d never seen his eyes so black, the hazel almost completely hidden dilated pupils and a blazing fire that would have taken her breath, if only his lips hadn’t done the job already. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Lily’s eyes followed the movement closely, her newly acquired knowledge of the feel, the taste of his tongue, making her imagine in a way that was all too real, how it would feel if he did the same to her.

“You had an answer for me, Evans?” his voice was hoarse, husky, like he’d run a marathon in the seconds, minutes, that they’d been kissing.

“I hardly think it matters now,” Lily’s laugh was almost bitter as it escaped from her, as she pushed back wet hair from his forehead, brushing her thumb softly across the scar above his eyebrow.

“Tell me anyway,” his fingers brushed down her arm, tipped her chin up, catching her lips again for a brief but perfect kiss.

Lily sighed, kissed him again to stall, cupped his face with both her hands to make sure he was paying attention. She was only going to say this once.

“Yes, I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you next weekend.”

#jily #jily fic #jily fanfic #hogwarts jily #canon jily #freckles writes #probably can't call this a drabble #its really a oneshot #oops #shirtless james potter may #jumpers off for june #or whatever it was for june #forgive the lack of editing #i beg you

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