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awrkive · 2 months ago

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WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES — JJK (m.)

there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.

PAIRING cnbl!jungkook x cnbl!female reader

GENRE r18+ (SMUT, fluff) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WORD COUNT 11k of pure fluffy and smutty nonsense 😍 literally 90% of this is smut

WARNINGS/MISC fluff galore, cnbl jk is the father of all simps all men need to be like him fr, angst if u squint but like not really 😭, oc's tendencies to be avoidant of her feelings show up lol i still love u saur, best boy cnbl jk ):, he will disintegrate if he cant call her by a petname [ explicit sexual content: unprotected s*x (its just a fanfic its not that serious), panty sniffing (like very quick), dirty talking lol, c*nnilingus, they hold hands during it <3, VERY SLIGHT foot action but like its very fleeting lol u dont need to worry about it lmfao, multiple s*x positions, cowgirl position cos her eyes are pretty trope, good ole cre*mpies ], L b*mb drop and an ily kink develops. literally every paragraph theres an ily crying. anyways i think thats all feel free to inform me if i left out any

NOTES i have like 11 asks on my inbox asking about how cnbl couple is and what their label is are they official now etc etc and they've sitting there since bush administration </3 after two years of drought we are finally so back. i purposefully didnt answer any of th asks since i want to make a drabble for when they finally make things official so this is it awrkive nation🩷 this can be read as a standalone?? but like pls read cnbl first lol (also i thought i ate this title when i thought about it but now i realize it kinda sounds ass but its 2am so give me some slack. also this is unedited skjfdjkfhdk AND this will also be my last post before i go mia for the next few weeks due to big life happenings. leave ur thoughts in my inbox or reply section to get a cnbl jk to go🫂

ORIGINAL STORY [CNBL] | MAIN MASTERLIST

Jungkook loves when he gives it to you slow. Loves the heavy breathes that puff out of your mouth, the drawl out moans that give your mouth that lovely, erotic O-shape which image burns in his head for the next few days (two days, at the very least), and the way he can feel the exact moment when you clench and unclench around the ridges of his hard cock.

But he also loves it when he jackhammers into your pussy, pounding in and out of it at a quick pace that your eyes roll to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his skin (or scalp), the staccato rhythm of your “oh”s and “ah”s that sound like real music to his ears, and the way your mouth hangs open as you utter sweet gibberish into the air because the pleasure he’s giving you feels too much.

“Give it to me, give it to me,” you whisper against his mouth. On your back, you’re sprawled across his bed, your thighs resting on the crook of Jungkook’s elbows as he pounds into you like he’s trying to win a contest.

There’s dried up tears on the side of your eyes, your lips swollen from the way you’ve been kissing for minutes, and Jungkook finds it hard to focus on one thing when you have your pussy gripping around him like a fucking vice, your breasts bouncing at his every quick thrust, and your pretty face looking at him like you just want nothing but cock.

“Y-yeah, fuck—” Jungkook grunts, repeating the same motion of fucking into you at a pace so fast he can hear his bedframe hitting the wall when he thrusts back. He grips your thighs tight, veins popping out of his arms. “You like this, baby? Love when I fuck you quick and fast?”

You nod your head, bottom lip caught in your teeth, looking up at him with those hooded eyes that Jungkook is near to losing his goddamn mind. God, you’re so fucking pretty it genuinely hurts him. Most especially his dick.

“Am I fucking you stupid, angel?” He slides out, and then enters you abruptly, making you cry out in pleasure. “I'm taking care of you so good you can't think straight, huh? Hm?’

“Y-yes!” You squeak out, grabbing to try and hold onto his biceps. Jungkook leans forward so you can find leverage on his body, his dick hitting deeper into your core at the movement. At the mewl that you let out, he stretches your legs higher until you almost feel like you’re being folded in half, with Jungkook jackhammering his dick into your tight pussy.

"S-so good…" you whimpered, almost out of breath.

Jungkook groans at the pretty sound. “Ngh– I feel fucking good, too, baby. You're so fucking pretty. Squeeze those tits for me.”

You oblige, grabbing your boobs and squishing them together. Jungkook revels at the sight, wanting nothing but to burn every second in memory. Sometimes, he wishes he can have some sort of copy of you two doing this… just a little something for your own private enjoyment. He hasn’t brought it up to you, mostly because he thinks you won’t necessarily be into the idea as much as he is. Will probably say no, or be partial to it at best.

Next time. He tells himself.

“Fuck, fuck – fuck!” Jungkook grunts, sliding in and out of you, picking up his pace more, beginning to sound delirious at the sensation of your walls fluttering around his cock. It’s impossible the way you just grow tighter every second, clenching around him like you don’t have any intentions of letting go.

“J-Jungkook—!” You cry out, arms reaching out for him, and when Jungkook sees the small stream of tears falling out from your eyes again, he can’t help but fuck you senseless. “Oh my god– ah– fuck, i-it feels so good, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He continues his movements, pounding into your pussy, tightening his hold on your hips. Your nails dig into his forearms, and your chest subtly moves up and down at every action that he makes. When you close your eyes, that’s when Jungkook knows that your climax is near, and so he stays consistent in his pace, just fucking into you deep and fast – just like how you like it now.

“Ah– there, Jungkook— oh god–!” You yelp, choking in your words, your pussy spasming around Jungkook’s cock until he feels that burst of hot white around his shaft. You reflexively let out a loud moan, but what you say next completely catches him off-guard.

“It feels so good– I love you.”

Jungkook staggers, dick slipping out of you momentarily at your sudden confession. But as he lets his gaze fall to your face, you have your eyes closed, lost in the moment, like how you usually are when you just orgasmed – and Jungkook knows he can’t talk to you at that state, nor can he ask to confirm what you just said.

So he looks down at where your bodies meet, shakily breathes when he sees the base of his cock getting covered in your cum, your juices dripping all over his dark sheets making a wet spot underneath you.

“F-fuck,” He hisses, quickening his pace to let himself go.

He thinks about the sound of your “I love you”, how it falls prettily on your lips, and how good it would be to hear that one more fucking time.

Letting out a guttural groan, the thought completely tips him over the edge, and he grips his cock to shoot his cum into your swollen hole, painting your walls white just as you painted his shaft the same color with your own orgasm.

Unexpectedly, he feels you gush the second time.

It’s cold and it’s hot at the same time – the sensation. It’s top three one of the best feelings a man could ever experience, and Jungkook is greedy – always greedy when it comes to you – that he pushes his cock back in to put it all in you, not wanting any to be wasted on the mattress. And just because he wants to hear that pretty moan from you again when he enters your cunt.

You do, making the hair on his body tingle.

He drops down beside your body – more like on top of you, but a little off to the side – making sure to not put all his weight on you lest he hurts you. As usual, you receive him wholeheartedly with open arms, humming when he begins to suckle on your still rock-hard nipples, his hand shooting up to fondle the other one. Instantly, your hand caresses his hair.

“Kook.”

“Hm?” He hums against your breast.

“I’m sore. Get your dick off me.”

Jungkook frowns, but nonetheless acquiesces and slides out of you. He hisses when he feels your cum leaking out, about to insert a finger in you to stop it, but you take his temporary separation from you to stand up from the bed, leaving him on it alone.

“Baby,” Jungkook calls – whines – really, looking at you with furrowed brows.

You roll your eyes. “I’m not cockwarming you tonight. I’m going to the shower–” When you see him moving to get up from the bed as well, you shoot him a glare. “No. No funny business. I’ll just go clean up and you can too and then we’ll sleep.”

“I can clean you up.” Jungkook looks at you, wide-eyed. You look at him dryly. He sighs and then lets himself fall back to the bed, naked and all that, his dick still semi-hard against his stomach. “Okay, fine.”

“Good.”

He stares at your ass as you go to the bathroom, enjoying the view of your naked back before you disappear inside the room.

Jungkook closes his eyes as he crosses his arms on the back of his head, thinking that maybe it’s good you didn’t let him in the shower with you because… how does he bring up the fact that you just said… it?

“I love you.”

Did you… mean that? Like… you love him? Like, actually, love love him?

It’s been eight months since your whole set up started. Four months of solely fucking and another four months of more fucking but you’ve actually both established that you like each other.

Of course, Jungkook feels more than that. He has for a long time now. He’s liked you since the first time you had sex and he started having deeper feelings for you every other day since then.

Needless to say, Jungkoon loves you.

Has for a long time now.

But he didn’t say anything because he was scared that you would be scared. He felt like the luckiest guy on earth when you told him you liked him – and he felt pretty much untouchable when you two started exclusively dating each other four months ago. You’re definitely his girlfriend now and him your boyfriend – and sure, you haven’t had The Talk yet, but… now that you said you love him… that pretty much changes the course of everything…

Right?

However, he finds himself pondering on it.

Did you really mean that? Jungkook doesn’t think you’re the kind of person who just spout words as heavy as that confession, so you couldn’t have been insincere when you let that out.

But… you were in the middle of sex, though. Did you just say it because you were in that position? Maybe you figured him out long ago now, have already known that he loves you, so you just said it to get him off?

That’s probably not the case, he physically shakes his head. He knows that you know you don’t need to do anything else other than be underneath him or on top of him so he can release. Hell, your mere voice is even enough to tip him off the edge; there are countless incidents where he feels a certain kind of desperation for you, in the morning or in the middle of the night when you’re away and not in his arms, and he presses your name on his contact last, then what’s supposed to be an innocent call turns into something very much far from wholesome when he feels his dick twitch at the very sound of your voice and embarrassingly cums in his pants when you goad him about it.

You know your tight hold on him. You don’t need to say I love you to get him off.

But damn, did that really get him going more than usual.

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses, his head throbbing at the thoughts going haywire inside his head. His dick has calmed down now, soft in between his legs, and he’s starting to feel sticky, especially with the ruined sheets on his back.

Standing up, he picks them up to put them in the hamper, grabbing a towel real quick to wrap around his lower half.

When he finishes changing the bedsheets into fresh and clean ones, that’s when you step out of the shower.

“I turned on the hot water for you.” You say, tightening your baby blue robe which is a pair of Jungkook’s own robe that he bought for you two two months ago.

Jungkook walks over to your direction and takes you by the waist to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“Thank you, angel,” he says. You give him a smile and he can’t help but give you a peck once again. “I made the bed.”

“Thanks.”

Jungkook stands there and he doesn’t notice that he’s staring until you point it out with an arched brow.

“What?”

With a surprised look, Jungkook takes himself out of his trance. “Oh, uh, nothing.” He gives you a hesitant smile. He’s actually thinking of asking you about the thing you said earlier. But right now, as he looks at you again, he finds himself a bit reluctant. “I’ll shower now.”

You look at him weird and Jungkook chuckles as he leans down to kiss you again.

When you break the contact, going over to his closet where a huge portion of your own clothes have already made its own way to, Jungkook thinks that maybe he’ll bring it up when he finishes showering.

But as he steps back out of the shower ten minutes later, you’re already sprawled across the bed with your nightie on.

And as Jungkook steps closer to you, you’re fast asleep, soft snores coming out of your mouth, pretty and peaceful in your slumber.

Jungkook smiles at the sight.

Tomorrow. He’ll bring it up tomorrow instead.

In the morning when Jungkook woke up, he didn't find you in his arms like he expected to. And when he looked through the notifications on his phone, your text told him that you already went for your 10 am class. Jungkook’s first one is at 2:30 in the afternoon.

He intended to take you out for lunch in the afternoon, but when he called you, you said you had a meeting with your club and you’d only be free in the evening onwards.

At 9:30pm, when all of Jungkook’s classes have ended, he sent you a text again, hoping you’d be free by the time.

One whole day of not seeing your face and he was starting to feel a little on edge.

[9:31pm] Jungkook: hi baby classes ended [9:31pm] Jungkook: hru i havent seen u at all today

Jungkook couldn’t help but send another one.

[9:32pm] Jungkook: i missed u. can i come over?

At that point, he was already over at the uni’s parking lot, going to the direction of his car and unlocking it when he got near. When he buckled himself into the driver’s seat, he hoped to see a reply from you.

But nothing came.

When he arrived home at the end of the day, he took a quick half-bath and ate some leftovers in the fridge.

As of now, as he settles himself onto his bed, he scrolls through your text thread, the Delivered button on his last text taunting him the longer he looks at it.

With furrowed brows, he begins to type up another message but then soon, the Delivered stamp changes to Read, and the three dancing dots on your end play on his screen, which somehow lightens his mood.

[10:45pm] princess🥰💓: Hello, Kook! So sorry for the late reply. I got caught up with classes and the long meeting with the club today [10:46pm] princess🥰💓: We apparently have to push the fall edition of the print a week earlier and I also have to revise some stuff in my thesis so I’m a bit tight on sched

Jungkook nods to himself upon reading the text message, feeling bad for you.

[10:47pm] Jungkook: ohh ic ic [10:47pm] Jungkook: do u want me to bring u food?

[10:48pm] princess🥰💓: Like, youre coming over?

[10:48pm] Jungkook: yeahh [10:48pm] Jungkook: if u want

Jungkook waits as the bubbles appear and disappear on your end, until he receives your final reply.

[10:50pm] princess🥰💓: Hmm I appreciate it but Im over at Hana’s right now. Club stuff. And then I’ll go home later to work on my paper

Pouting, Jungkook sighs as he reads your message. He really wants to see you today… he misses your pretty face and your voice and your touch.

But he doesn’t really want to push. You’re very anal about your personal space, especially when it relates to your academics.

Letting out another heavy sigh again, he tells you to give him a call when you’re at your place.

He doesn't receive any.

“Hey,”

“What the—” You see the librarian from across the room immediately eyeing you with a deadly stare. Mouthing a shameful “sorry”, you clutch your chest, turning to the embodied voice again properly this time. Only to get taken aback. “Oh hey… hi.”

Jungkook stands in front of you and he looks so… handsome – nothing new or groundbreaking, per se. He always looks like that. With only a simple combo of grey hoodie and black cargo pants, his backpack slung over one shoulder, he can probably outmodel professionals on the runway. Though, the way he looks so comfy is making you want nothing but to snuggle him.

“Busy day?” He asks, pertaining to the laptop and stack of books on your table. Placing his bag on the floor underneath the table, he takes the seat beside you.

“Yeah… I'm writing an essay right now.” You offer him a small smile. It feels like you haven't seen each other for weeks, but the truth is, it's just been over two days since you were at his place.

“I see. Do you mind me here?”

“Nope. You can do whatever you want.”

"Can I kiss you then?" He asks and that makes you pause.

Looking around, you take note that there aren’t a lot of people in the library anymore as it’s already late. There’s the librarian a few feet away from you, but he’s currently busy doing something on his computer. With a quiet chuckle, you face Jungkook and say, “Do you need to ask?”

Jungkook shrugs, already leaning towards you. “I just feel like it.”

“It's fine, Kook.” you turn your head to him, and he does not waste any second, closing the gap between you both and capturing your lips in his for a soft kiss.

You sigh in his mouth. You miss him so much and he smells so good it calms your insides. You've been stressing over the essay you’re writing, but all that seems to die down as a result from the exchange with Jungkook.

God, you really need to talk to him.

“Missed you.” He says once your faces are apart. He pecks your lips one more time for good measure and gives you that adorable bunny smile of his.

“We saw each other, like, two days ago.” You chuckle, making sure to muffle the sound.

Scooting his chair closer to you, Jungkook whines in your ear, “Too long.” When you look at his face, there's a small hint of pout on his lips.

“Well, we're here now.”

“Really?” Jungkook raises his brow. “Then let's get out of here. You can write your essay at my place and I'll cook you dinner and then we can binge watch the third season of Twin Peaks.”

“You haven't even started on the first season, why are you watching the third.” You say with an incredulous tone.

“Doesn't matter.”

It does matter.

Jungkook has driven you both to his place. When he turned on his TV, you told him you can just start Twin Peaks all over again so he can understand what he's watching, but he insisted that he was gonna know the context eventually – fast forward, he did not. So here he currently is, asking you who everybody is and what’s the context of what they’re saying, and as much as you love his company, people posing questions after questions while watching something will never not be a pet peeve of yours.

“Baby,” you start. Jungkook looks at you with doe eyes. You cup his face and stare at him seriously. “You're annoying me.”

He lets out a gasp.

A literal, audible gasp.

“That hurt. Please tell me you're joking.” Jungkook says that, but you can see the playful glint in his eyes as you squint yours at him.

He made you bulgogi and you both devoured the last of it five minutes ago – and you're thankful for his kindness and generosity but god—

You push on his chest lightly. “Then stop asking. I told you we can just watch the first season but then you want to jump into the last one, of course you're gonna be confused.”

“Yeah but you already watched all of it. I didn't want you to get bored.” Jungkook pouts. You stare at him for a while and you kind of hate that he’s so handsome and so cute at the same time it makes it hard for you to completely be annoyed with him.

There's a fond look on your face when you roll your eyes again. Scooting closer to him on the couch, you plant a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You're really sweet, Kook, but why don't we just watch a movie or something.”

He leans down to kiss your mouth. “Alright. You pick the movie and I'll go grab some chips from the pantry.”

You smile at him before he disappears to fetch some food, leaving you to browse through the catalog. When he returns shortly, you muse, “You're really nice and sweet to me today. What's up?”

Jungkook scoffs, as if offended by what you said. “Am I not nice and sweet every other day?”

“That's not what I meant. You're just extra sweet and extra nice tonight— I mean, you usually put up a fight on who picks the movies.”

“I let you win every time though?” He says and you nod in thought.

“True.” Looking back to the television, you hover over the Notting Hill poster. Thinking that the description sounds interesting, you click on it. As the movie loads, you turn your gaze to Jungkook and nudge his leg. “But still…”

He can’t help but chuckle at your persistence. Gathering your feet on his lap, he leans back and retorts, “I just missed you so much. Is that bad?”

You don't anticipate the way he lifts one of your legs, holding your ankle up and then putting a kiss on it.

It makes blood rush to your cheeks. With his mussed hair and the grey hoodie and cargo pants from earlier changed into a simple white shirt and grey sweatpants, he looks comfy you just want to jump him and bite him and kiss him all at the same time.

Damn. He really makes you feel a whole lot of things you're starting to think you need an intervention.

You’ve never been so attracted to somebody before. It may be because you know you’re past the point of being just attracted to him.

And then there’s that beat in your heart again. The flip-flopping and the weird feeling in your stomach.

You look away from his intense gaze. “No.”

You hear him let out a low chuckle, a sound so attractive you feel the hair on every part of your body standing up.

“Come here.” he puts your legs away from his lap, much to your little disappointment. But he beckons you to come close to him, and so you do, leaving your lying position from the couch to go over to where he is. You don't know whether you're gonna place yourself beside him or what, but he beats you to it as he takes your thighs and guides you to straddle him.

You do so without any words, following his lead. You feel heat creeping up your neck when you finally land on his lap, his arms circling around you.

“Why do you still smell like flowers even after a whole day?” It's followed with him sniffing the juncture between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your scent.

You flinch 'cause it tickles a little. He always does and says that shit and you can't help but laugh, always not knowing what to say to that. But Jungkook doesn’t seem to need your input, anyway.

He squeezes your body, hugging you tighter to him.

“I really missed you, you know?”

You giggle. “Yeah, you said that the third time now.”

“You're keeping count but why can't you just say you miss me too?” He pulls away, making sure to face you so you see the pout on his face.

You peck his lips. “That's because I don't.” You joke, earning a glare.

“Wow, first you say I'm annoying and now you apparently didn't miss me?” You're sure he's joking but the frown on his face makes you think that maybe somewhere in his head, he's thinking otherwise.

You smile at him. “I was just kidding, Kook. Of course I missed you too. And thank you for the food.” You say against his lips, leaning down to kiss him again.

“Does that mean you’re done avoiding me now?”

Breaking away from the kiss, you look at him in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“What?” you say, confused.

Jungkook arches a brow. You both stare into each other’s eyes but then his gets way too intense that you can’t help but look away. That’s when you hear him sigh.

“Baby, talk to me.” Jungkook cups your jaw with his palm, gently directing your face towards his. “I don’t like when we don’t talk. You clearly have something on your mind. What is it? Is it something I can fix?”

Hearing his words makes your heart melt and your brain turn into mush. Is it something I can fix? Jesus.

How can you not fall for him when he says things like that?

“Did I do something wrong?” Jungkook asks when you don’t say a thing.

That earns him an instant, aggressive shake of your head.

“No, Jungkook. You didn’t do anything wrong, not at all,” you say, planting your palms on his shoulders to assure him. You see the slight hint of smile on the curve of his lips. “It’s, uh, it’s me…” you trail off, not sure how to navigate your next words. You take note of the way Jungkook’s eyebrows meet in confusion. “I’ve just been… feeling weird lately.”

At that, his confusion grows even more, but it’s more out of concern instead of perplexity.

“What’s wrong, angel? You don’t feel okay?” He says, caressing your face as if he’ll find the issue there. He looks so willing to just get you to okay and it makes your heart beat a little faster than usual.

“No– I mean, I feel okay. It’s not that,” you shake your head, shy at his doting. When he waits for your next words, you can’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck as you say— more like whisper— against his skin, “I told you I love you the other day.”

You feel Jungkook stilling under you. And it makes you nervous. Heart racing against your ribcage, you can’t find it in yourself to break away from your hold on him because that would mean you have to look into his eyes – and you don’t want to. Your cheeks feel so hot and you feel like throwing up. Your emotions are all over the place and Jungkook’s prolonged silence isn’t helping at all.

But suddenly, those thoughts die down when you feel him relaxing underneath you, his arms wrapping around your waist. You feel a weight on the crown of your head and with a gentle rub on your back, Jungkook whispers against your hair, “I love you, too.”

That makes you instantly look up from him. When you see his face, his lips are curved into a soft smile.

With furrowed brows, you voice out your concern.

“You don’t need to say it back just ‘cause I told you that.”

Now, it’s Jungkook’s turn to be confused.

“I’m not saying it just ‘cause you said it, baby.” He looks so sincere and for a moment, you feel bad for doubting him for a second. Jungkook must’ve noticed the look on your face as he cups your jaw again, angling it towards him. You feel his smile against your mouth when he presses his lips to yours. “I'm in love with you, __. I have been for the past few months now.”

Your eyes widen a bit when he calls you by your name.

Jungkook has always liked calling you by every endearing pet name in the world that you’re lowkey convinced he forgot your real name at this point, but when the sweet syllable rolls off his tongue, you can’t help but melt.

He doesn’t seem to notice your surprise, though. Just breaks away from the contact you’re both engaged in and he takes your wrist in his hand, lifting it to his face to kiss the skin on the side of your palm.

The action was so momentary and brief but it doesn’t deter the fact that it made your heart jump.

You think it’s funny how you feel so much whenever he’s around. You think it’s funny that you feel so giddy – even after all this time.

You think it’s funny that before the whole thing started, you’ve never considered this ever happening but here you are, completely elated over the fact that you’re in love with Jeon Jungkook and he feels the same way too.

“You have?” You say, voice quiet. He nods, humming, leaning to your palm when you put it over his cheek. “Since when?”

“The first time we went to that abandoned house.”

Your lips part at the declaration. That was… that happened so long ago. Nearly four months from the present.

“That long?” You blink a few times at him, not really sure how to react to that confession.

Jungkook chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to your thumb again. You like how his instinct is to always have a form of physical contact with you whenever you’re around. You don’t know if he knows that himself, but you’ve definitely observed that for the past few months you’ve been “exclusively” seeing each other and it just… absolutely melts you.

“I know… I’m a bit of a coward for not telling you sooner. But I didn’t want to scare you off.” Jungkook says admittedly, and his last sentence makes your heart twinge.

He didn’t want to scare you off. Of course he’d think that. You had a total breakdown at the prospect of him opening up to you just four months ago – before you told him you liked him.

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat. “I— yeah. I was in my head over the past two days, you know?”

Jungkook’s face etches into a look of concern. “Hm?”

Nodding your head slowly, you find comfort in tracing random shapes and lines on his chest instead.

“These feelings… they’re not new. I didn’t just wake up one day and realized I love you. I felt it during the time when we woke up together in bed for the first time at your place. I felt it when you drove three hours from your parents’ house to my dorm just ‘cause I told you I missed you. I felt it when you stayed up late with me just so you could help me make my flash cards. I—” you look away, suddenly embarrassed at what you’re saying. It’s not like you to say so much. Not like you to show and voice out this extent of your emotion. “I remember the times I felt I loved you for the briefest of moments in the past three months, but lately, I can't stop thinking about it and suddenly, I can’t count on my fingers anymore how many times I felt I love you. I loved you every hour of last week and yesterday I loved you even more.”

You watch as Jungkook looks at you with parted lips. Awe-struck? You don’t want to hype yourself up too much. So you look away, keeping your eyes focused on his white shirt.

“And what about today?” Jungkook suddenly speaks.

You free your bottom lip from your teeth and finally look Jungkook in the eyes. “I love you more than I did yesterday. And tomorrow I’ll do the same.”

“Fuck.” Jungkook utters, bowing his head. His tone's a mix of incredulity, amusement, and joy at the same time. When he looks up at you again, he looks at you with so much sparkle in his eyes you’re starting to think you’re a fool for not noticing earlier the love they hold for you in them. “I just… wow.”

Your eyebrows meet in confusion.

Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head. “I just… I had this huge confession in my head, you know? I– uh– I wrote it in my notes app.”

Suddenly, the serious atmosphere breaks as you can’t help but laugh. “What?”

With a small pout, Jungkook continues, “I’m not good with words, you know that. So, I had this big confession planned out. I was gonna tell you in detail how much I love you, but after hearing what you just said… I forgot about everything I tried to memorize last night.”

Now you’re giggling in his lap. Just trying to visualize him typing on his phone while figuring out what to say to you and him studying it, memorizing the lines…

You're so glad it's him you fell for.

“Don’t laugh,” he scolds, but there's a hint of playfulness that lies underneath it. Jungkook inserts his hand under your shirt and starts rubbing the skin of your waist. “Truth is that I was afraid when you started avoiding me. Thought I’d lose you again.”

His vulnerable confession makes you stop completely. There’s a certain melancholy in his eyes when he mentions it, and you feel like scolding yourself for even causing that.

“What I did wasn’t the most mature way to go about it. I’m sorry,” you start. Sighing, you adjust yourself on his lap to get more comfortable. “Uh… I guess I was just embarrassed and wanted to have time to compose myself.”

“What were you embarrassed for?”

There’s heat that spreads to your cheeks. For a brief second, you consider lying, but then you remember honesty. It’s what got you both here. Just being open to each other and communicating.

“Jungkook, no one wants their first I love you said during sex.” You deadpan.

“Oh.” He blinks.

At that, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Exactly.”

“What’s wrong with that, though?” Jungkook furrows his brows. But his tone borders on teasing when he continues, “You know what they say? Make a girl cum one and she’ll love you, make a girl cum twice and she’ll actually tell you she loves you.”

“Oh my god.” you groan, jabbing at his chest slightly and taking off your legs off the couch so that you stop straddling him.

Jungkook bursts into laughter and is quick to grab your waist, effectively pulling you back to him again. It results in you falling haphazardly into his lap, which he takes as an opportunity to cage you in a hug and guide you on your back to hover on top of you.

“I’m kidding, baby,” he whispers against your cheek. “I’m kidding.”

You inhale a sharp breath when he starts kissing along your jaw. “Good.”

“I really appreciate you for saying all those things. I wish I can be as eloquent as you,” He tips your jaw with his fingers so that you look at him. “You’re a poet, __.”

That makes you smile. You secretly like when he calls you by all these petnames... but the way your name rolls of his tongue just hits a lot more different.

“As long as you love me back, Kook.” you say, pushing his bangs off his forehead so that you can look at his face wholly.

“I love you.” He confesses, kissing your lips.

“I love you too.” you smile.

Jungkook pecks your lips one more time and suddenly follows it up with another one. Soon, you’re a giggling mess underneath him on the couch when he keeps it up until it tickles.

“Jungkook,” you whine, wriggling under him and avoiding his mouth.

This only makes Jungkook chuckle in the crook of your neck, halting his cute assault on your lips. When the high of the laughter comes off, you feel a wet trail of kisses down to the base of your neck, and suddenly, Jungkook’s hands are under your shirt, rubbing along the bare skin of your waist. While he peppers open-mouthed pecks on your neck, his fingers trail upwards until they’re on your bare tits.

“Oh,” you let out a low moan when his palm squeezes around the flesh.

It earns a groan from Jungkook, who presses himself closer to you. And it’s when you feel the growing need on his crotch area – his dick poking your stomach as he stays lapping up your neck.

“Jungkook,” you call him again. It takes Jungkook a few seconds to look up at you. When he does, his long hair is a mess on his head and his eyes are hooded in that drunken-like state, lips wet from his previous ministrations.

“Hm?” He hums, gives both your boobs a good squeeze again, making you sigh out. Jungkook continues to touch you, fondling your breasts in his hand as he starts kissing up your jaw instead.

“I want you.” you whisper against the air, closing your eyes at the sensation of his touch.

He feels so good on you. You want to take off your stupid clothes.

“Shit,” Jungkook hisses, giving an involuntary thrust against your crotch that made you both groan. “Fuck. I want you, too, baby— god, let me just—”

You whine when he breaks away from you, but you watch in awe as he makes quick work of kneeling in between your legs, peeling off the white shirt from his body with one arm from the back in a swift motion. He throws it on the floor and swipes his hair out of his face, and in that brief moment, with his toned abdomen and inked arm, you nearly melt.

“Can I take off your shorts?” He asks, but he already has his fingers hooked over the bottom you’ve changed into when you got into his apartment. Giving him a nod, you help him in taking off the garment by lifting your bum off the sofa. Jungkook, ever the expert in the art of taking off your clothes, does it quick, the shorts landing on the floor together with his shirt, forming a small heap. Bottoming out, he takes your thighs in the crook of his elbows and scoot your body closer to his. The angle is a bit awkward from where you lie, and Jungkook makes your cheeks burn when he turns his head to the side to kiss your knee. “So beautiful, baby. Your legs are so smooth.”

“Stop talking,” you say, embarrassed.

Jungkook chuckles at your reaction, already used to it. His face leans even closer and soon he has the tip of his nose on your panty-cladded core. Like clockwork, he takes a subtle sniff, closing his eyes for a little while at the scent, gripping your thighs tighter at the action.

If you weren’t a heating mess before, you’re near on combustion now. Surely, Jungkook knows what this does to you.

“You smell so good. Such a pretty girl,” he grunts. Then, he presses a kiss to your pussy which makes your breath hitch.

“Jungkook,” you let out a whine for the nth time. “Don’t tease.”

He shushes you out, clicking his tongue as if you did something wrong.

You capture your bottom lip in your teeth. Jungkook cups your jaw so you can look at him when he says, “Be patient, princess. I’ll give you what you want. Always.” His voice is gentle and soft, and you know he means it.

Still, you give him a pout.

“I wanna fuck.”

He chuckles, low and sounding so attractive when he brings his fingers through his hair again. It doesn’t help that you can clearly see the outline of his dick getting bigger inside his grey sweats. Damn those joggers for real.

“Okay,” Jungkook smiles down at you. “Take your shirt off.”

You make quick work of removing your shirt off to reveal your naked body to him. At this point, only your underwear and his pants are the only things keeping you apart.

As usual, Jungkook zeroes in on your body instantly, paying the most attention to your tits. According to him, they’re two of his most favorite things in the world and as much as you’d like to call bullshit on that, it really does seem like he’s not joking about it at all.

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook brings your legs down gently, sliding on top of your body and hovering as he quickly fondles your boobs with his huge palms. “Fuck, you’re so soft.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cleavage. Not wasting any more time, he latches his tongue around a nipple, and you automatically hold onto his head for support when the sensation nearly knocks you off the couch.

Despite that little movement from you, Jungkook continues to lap at your breasts. Licking and tugging at your nipple to get it hard, paying attention to the other one by pinching it and simultaneously squeezing. As seconds pass, Jungkook alternates between your breasts, and as he does so, you feel your core starting to heat up, your need growing bigger.

“B-baby,” you sigh out, gripping his hair tighter which makes him grunt. “I want you.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He whispers against your skin. You’re about to whine some more when Jungkook finally leaves your chest to pepper kisses down your stomach. When he gets near your nether region, he guides your legs to hook over his shoulder. “These gotta go.” He says about your panties, and you’re more than willing to help him take it off you.

The moment it's no longer on you, Jungkook hisses at the sight, head leaning down to finally plant his mouth on your pussy.

The first lick feels ecstatic just like it always does. With Jungkook lapping up a big stripe over the length of your core, you keep your bucking to a minimum, holding onto his hair instead.

“Taste so fucking good, I can never get enough of you,” he says before he dives in again. Jungkook has this thing when he eats pussy. He always does it like he’s making out with your mouth, his tongue prodding at every seams, wrapping your labia around his lips and being messy with it.

Jungkook breaks away for a while as you hear a sound of spit, followed by the cold sensation of his saliva dripping down to your hole. Soon, you feel Jungkook’s thumb beginning to rub your clit, resulting in a ragged breathing from your lungs.

“F-fuck,” you moan, tightening your hold on his hair you’re sure you’re pulling on his scalp.

“You’re so fucking wet for me. So sensitive,” Jungkook says as he picks up the pace of his thumb. “Ain’t that right, pretty girl? All for me, right? This is all for me, hm?”

“Y-yes!” you squeak out when you feel him prodding his tongue at your entrance again. His finger is fast against your sensitive bud, with his tongue lapping up the juices that eagerly come out of your hole. Jungkook makes out with your pussy like he would with your mouth, and with the tip of his nose touching your skin at this proximity, you can't say you’re not close to the edge. And embarrassingly so – because he’s just gotten started and you already feel like cumming.

“Sh–shit,” Jungkook hisses. He shifts his thumb with his tongue this time in stimulating your clit, using two fingers instead to stretch your pussy out open just so he can see the way it throbs and flutters at his every action. It’s a sinful sight, really, the way you’re so open and wet for him.

Soon after, Jungkook’s getting a little more aggressive in the way he pushes his head closer to your core, jaw working to devour your mound, two digits inserting themselves in your aching hole that somehow satisfies your need to be filled at the very moment.

And you’re a panting mess beneath him – trying so hard to muffle the moans from your mouth. Jungkook’s gotten a total of three noise complaints for the past 4 months you’ve been fucking at his place – and even though he tells you not to worry, you find that it’s hard to believe when the one time that you got to ride in the elevator with his neighbor, she looked at you both like she knew you’ve done something.

Never again.

As if having read your thoughts, Jungkook breaks away for a while to say, “Don’t hold back, gorgeous. Let me hear those pretty moans of yours.”

Your cheeks burn with heat as you see his wet jaw and plump lips when you glance down. When your gazes meet, Jungkook inserts his middle and ring fingers in his mouth, and when he pops them back out all wet with his saliva, he pushes them into your hole, lax in his movements, looking right into your eyes as he does so.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, holding onto his wrist automatically when he pumps his digits into you faster than his pace earlier.

“There,” Jungkook smirks. “Moan for me, angel.”

“J-jungkook– oh my god– ah–!”

Jungkook goes back to leaning his head down and soon enough, his mouth is back on your pussy, simultaneously sucking your clit and licking around your labia, all the whole sliding his fingers in and out of you, you can feel yourself dripping down the leather of his couch.

“Fuck,” you sigh out, suddenly feeling overstimulated.

Jungkook picks up his pace and you feel a sting on the sides of your eyes as the pleasure begins to build up. Your hold on his wrist falls off and as if he knows exactly what you’re looking for, he reaches for your hand with his free one, interlocking your fingers together as you see him look up at you while he eats you out.

“Oh god,” you mewl, reaching down with your other arm to swipe his fringes off his forehead so you can see him better.

Jungkook stares intently at you as you do the same watching him licking your core enthusiastically. You let your head fall back at a particularly delicious lick, and soon after, you feel that familiar zap that starts on your toes that goes right up to your stomach.

“K-kook,” you call pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat. It feels somewhat dry at this point. Closing your eyes, you focus on the sensation of his tongue flicking your clit, saying, “I’m cumming.”

Jungkook keeps his movements of your pussy, not relenting even when you grab his hair a little too tight, and you feel like you’re breaking off his fingers’ joints by the way you’re gripping it so hard.

“I’m cum– there, fuck, that feels so good– I’m cumming!”

The knot in your stomach snaps and you feel a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy when it does so. You hear Jungkook groaning in between your legs, his licking becoming more messy as you feel him use three fingers to rub over your core like a greedy man wanting everything to be his.

“Jungkook…” you sigh out, your fingers easing their hold onto his, already feeling sensitive after your release. You look down at Jungkook only to see the crown of his head as keeps lapping up your wetness. He hums in your pussy and you know you can’t keep him off there for awhile so you wait, running your fingers through his hair soothingly, feeling bad for almost ripping it out awhile ago. “Kook, I’m sensitive.”

“Hm.” He hums to acknowledge you. He licks one last stripe before he lets go, easing off your thighs on the sofa and trailing kisses on your stomach and breasts until he’s eye level to you. “Love how you taste,” he says, kissing you, and your cheeks burn with heat when you feel your orgasm off his mouth. When he breaks the kiss, he looks at you with a smile you can only identify as lovesick. “I love you.”

That makes you melt.

You thought it would feel weird to hear him say it. But you think about the future and how there would be more like this, with Jungkook telling you he loves you in more shared random moments and you can’t help but mirror the smile he has on his stupid handsome face.

“I love you.” you say, initiating another kiss.

When Jungkook presses his body to you, that’s when you feel his cock poking into your stomach. You assume he’s even more rock hard now, given the previous events.

Sneakily inserting your hand between your bodies, you try to reach for the bulge in his pants and when you take a hold of his dick, Jungkook grunts.

“Babe,” he whines and breaks away from your lips and buries his face in the crook of your neck instead.

“It’s completely unfair how you still have your pants on while I’m completely naked.” You say, palming him through his sweats. You feel Jungkook tense above you, and when you give him a particularly hard squeeze, he retaliates with a bite on your shoulder that makes you squeal. “What the hell was that for?”

“For teasing me,” Jungkook says, finally looking at you. He grabs your arm, kisses the side of your wrist before he hauls himself off you completely, planting his feet on the floor while you lay there on the couch bare and cold. But that doesn’t last long as you feel him picking you up with ease — bridal style.

“Jesus,” you bury your face in his chest out of embarrassment. You’re all naked and he’s carrying you towards his bedroom in this ridiculous position.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just laughs and as he reaches his bedroom, he closes the door lightly with his foot.

“I’m not done with you yet,” He says when he puts you down on the mattress. He has that smarmy smirk on his face as he gets out of his grey sweatpants slowly. You’ve had the inkling he wasn’t wearing any underwear considering that it felt like there was not that much of a barrier when you held them there earlier – but it still takes your breath away when he’s left completely in his naked form, stiff and red-tipped cock standing to attention in his lower abdomen. Arching a brow at you, he trudges over to the edge of the bed and with the deep timbre of his voice, he calls you, “Scoot over here, love.”

The new endearment definitely catches you off guard. Love. Is that something he’s gonna be calling you from now on?

You definitely don’t mind.

You follow his instructions and let your body move closer towards the bottom, making Jungkook hum in approval.

“That’s a good girl.” Suddenly, Jungkook yanks your legs to his direction and you gasp in surprise, only to realize the position you’re both in.

He’s standing right over the edge of the bed while he guides your legs to rest over his shoulders.

Jungkook and you have tried a lot of positions since you established your thing, but surprisingly, this has never been one of them and you find yourself curious as to what he’ll do next.

His tattooed bicep flexes as he trails his finger up your naked thighs, making the hairs on your body tingle, especially your pussy which is all bare for his own viewing. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you watch as Jungkook turns his head to the side, and a gasp catches in your throat when he begins kissing up your calf. When his mouth nears your toes, you nearly yank it out of his hold.

“K-kook,” you stammer, but all Jungkook does is pay you a momentary look and a non-committal hum, turning back to your feet again where he presses a tentative kiss to your big toe. When he feels you wriggle it in his hold once again, he turns to you with furrowed brows. You look away. “It’s uhm…”

When you don’t say anything, Jungkook fills you in. “You don’t like it?”

You feel your cheeks burning even hotter. Fucking hell.

“No– I mean. Uh. I don’t know?” You knit your brows, confused yourself. You’ve never really thought about dabbling into the more adventurous aspect of sex but Jungkook has changed that ever since – right now, though, what he’s trying to do is confusing you. You’re sure you’ve never thought about feet and sex at the same sentence – but when Jungkook kissed your toes, that might have—

Oh god. No freaking way he’s trying to give you a foot kink.

“That’s okay,” Jungkook smiles at you warmly. “I was just gonna kiss them, baby. I love every part of you—” he presses a kiss back to your calf again. Staring deep into your eyes, he tells you gently, “But I’m not gonna do anything you don’t and won’t like, love.”

It seems like the new unlocked petname is doing all things because you could just feel the sudden gush of wetness coming out of you as soon as he said that. Jungkook must’ve noticed, paying a quick look to your pussy and scoffing in amusement as he sees it.

“You like that? Love? Hm?�� He caresses your thighs again, his other fingers trailing dangerously close to your core. “Seems like me calling you love gets you wet. What about I love you? Does it get you wet just like how it gets me hard when you say it as well?”

When Jungkook presses his thumb to your clit again, you moan, feeling him continue his ministrations. You hold your breath when he begins picking up the pace of his rubbing, and with your position, it gives you an opportunity to spread your legs even more, feeling Jungkook hiss at the action.

“Fuck. You really are so pretty. I’m so fucking lucky you love me,” Jungkook says. He talks sweet but you hear a sound of spit coming from him to your pussy, his saliva dripping down your core, making you mewl. “I’m gonna make love to you all night. Show you how much I love you.” Jungkook whispers as he pushes a finger into your hole, sliding in and out. “Look at what you do to me, love.”

You open your eyes to see what he’s talking about, and when you zero in on his cock, it impossibly became bigger, the tip an angry shade of red now. It looks so tight and rigid and veiny that you want to whine to touch it – but you decide to lay still, anticipating his next move.

“Put it in me,” you say, sounding challenging.

“I will, just gotta make sure you’re all ready.” Jungkook muses before he inserts his finger once again. It glides in pretty easily, and you’re sure that you’re more than ready to take his cock.

Grunting, Jungkook pulls you closer and lets go of one of your thighs to grip his dick. He gives it a good squeeze twice before he puts it against the lips of your pussy.

“Oh god,” you moan at the weight of him.

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses. You know he’s feeling the exact same way you do.

When he prods the tip at your entrance, you nearly squeal in delight. Instead, you grip the sheets behind you and look at the way Jungkook’s brows knit in concentration as he grips the base of his cock to enter you fully.

You both moan in unison when the first inch gets inserted, with Jungkook gripping your other thigh tighter and inhaling a sharp breath. Jungkook enters you slowly and arduously, like he’s savoring every second that your pussy swallows every part of his cock.

“You– fuck– you love a big cock but you’re so fucking tight,” He groans as he begins to slide in the remaining inches, getting both your thighs together again.

“It’s your fault,” you retaliate, hissing when he begins to move a little inside you. It doesn’t hurt the least bit – you were already way too wet from your first orgasm on the couch of his living room – but in this position, his cock feels deeper and it just feels so damn good.

“How is it– shit– my fault?” Jungkook grunts, beginning to pick up his pace. “I fuck you almost everyday.”

“Oh god—” you moan when he hits a little too deep at a particular thrust. “You’re so big, that’s why– fuck.”

“Hah.” Jungkook scoffs, bottoming out to enter you again. “Play with your tits for me, baby. Fuck, I love them so much.”

You grab your breasts, thankful at the suggestion because they’re bouncing a little from his pounding and you’re sure they’re gonna be sore the next day.

Needless to say, Jungkook likes what he sees as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you at a steady, slow pace.

There are two sides to Jungkook when it comes to sex. Sometimes, he likes to do it fast with jackhammer thrusts that makes you question his stamina and strength – not rough, because he told you you’re too much of a pillow princess for that (you rolled your eyes at him so hard and he only laughed at you, telling you it’s actually because he didn’t like the thought of hurting you in any way), and you admittedly love that. It’s what got the words “I love you” out of your mouth in the first place. Intense fucking coupled with intense emotions are a combination you now realize is dangerous – but right now, as he pounds into you slowly, making you feel every ridge of his cock, you realize it’s your favorite.

There’s something so intimate about the way Jungkook closes his eyes when he seemingly tries his very best to contain his strength as he enters you with his dick. It’s weirdly hot when he inhales a sharp breath to regulate his breathing, brows furrowed in concentration. Like this, you get to feel every moment of where you both started and where you end.

And when Jungkook leans down on the bed, folding you in half at the action, his dick hits deeper as he plants his palms on the mattress, is cock continuing their ministrations in your cunt.

He grunts in your hair, grabbing your breast and squeezing it hard in his palm which earns a moan from you. Jungkook looks at you and kisses your parted mouth.

“I love you,” he says when he breaks away, kissing your cheek. Then the tip of your nose. And then the space between your eyebrows. “I love you so much.”

You giggle. In the middle of sex. When his cock is snug deep in your pussy.

“You’re a sap.” you can’t help but cup his face in your hand, grinning at him widely.

“Where’s my– shit– I love you back?” Jungkook knits his brows, thrusting in and out of you still. He grips your hip with one hand, and there are balls of sweat on his forehead starting to form at the exertion from his body.

“Of course I love you too, baby,” You say. “Kiss me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait any more second and leans down to capture your lips into an open-mouthed kiss. You don’t break away until his hips stutter, indicating his impending orgasm.

He’s usually the one who whispers all those sweet nothings in your ear when you’re on the brink of your climax, but this time around, you tell him how much you love his cock, how it’s made for you, and how much you want to keep making love to him all night – and that’s how he breaks.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook groans as he shoots his hot white orgasm inside you, his voice strained as he finishes off with a few more erratic thrusts. “Oh god.”

“That’s it, Kook, cum for me,” you whisper against his lips, your legs already sliding off his shoulder. You can’t help but moan against his mouth when you feel him cumming more.

“I love you, angel.” Jungkook says and kisses you again.

You reciprocate the kiss and hope he feels the smile you have on your lips.

You don’t really expect to cum again – but then Jungkook suddenly palms your ass and taps both cheeks.

“Cum for me a second time.” He says, pecking the side of your lips.

You shake your head. As much as you’d love to, you feel like you’re actually about to break tonight.

“It’s fine—”

But Jungkook cuts you off quickly. “Please?”

And how can you say now when he looks like… that? His sex afterglow puts every man in the movies to shame. And you’re just human prone to giving in – especially when it comes to him specifically.

“Okay.” You say, tapping his cheek with a smile. “How do you want me?”

“Want you to ride me.” He whispers. “Wanna see your pretty eyes while you’re bouncing on my cock.”

You ignore the flutter in your heart at his words.

Jabbing at his chest lightly, you roll your eyes at him and let him get off you to position himself against the headboard of the bed. Jungkook grins when you soon plant your folded legs on both sides of him, helping you put his still erect dick inside your still sopping wet pussy.

You both hiss at the sensation, with you closing your eyes at the way he feels. Meanwhile, Jungkook doesn’t waste any second and dives into your breasts immediately, tugging and sucking at your nipples, squeezing and fondling at the flesh, and moaning when you begin to move up and down on his lap.

“S-so good,” you mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck, fumbling with the hair on his nape.

“That’s it, love. Doing so well.” He leaves your breasts in favor of your jaw, peppering kisses there until he makes a stop at your lips again. Jungkook finds solace in holding your hips as you move on your own, and as he watches your closed eyes and parted mouth, he leans back to the headboard, looking at the image of you at the very moment – wishing he could burn it into memory.

“My god– ah—” You begin to speed up your pace, concentrating on the way Jungkook’s cock seemingly hardens at your every drop and fall.

Soon after, you feel Jungkook sneaking his hands in your pussy, and when you plant one of your palms on the mattress leaning back, Jungkook rubs your clit to help you reach your climax.

You feel yourself leaking on him from both your orgasms in your pussy earlier, and at the thought of that, you feel another wave of ecstasy that snaps in the bottom part of your stomach.

“Oh my fucking god.”

You bury your face in Jungkook’s neck the moment you cum, breathing erratically against his skin.

“You did so well, baby,” Jungkook kisses your hair, caressing your head lovingly. “I love you.”

Humming, you let your body fall lax against his, feeling like your bones just lost all its joints, unable to move. Thankfully, there’s Jungkook to take care of that. When you refused to move, he teases you about being a baby and carries you to the bathroom instead where he tells you to pee while he prepares the shower for the both of you.

Minutes later when you’re both done cleaning yourselves, you lay in Jungkook’s bed beside each other. Or more like, you lean almost all of your weight on top of him, your legs and arms wrapped around his body with Jungkook’s arms underneath your neck, serving as your pillow.

“I think I just unlocked a new kink.” Jungkook says, alternating between kissing your forehead and caressing your head.

“You discover one, like, everyday.” You tell him, eyes shut closed. You’re starting to feel sleepy from everything you did tonight.

Jungkook snorts. “Fair. But for the record, nothing beats this new kink of mine.”

“What is it?”

“The I love you kink.”

Even if you can’t exactly see him, you’re sure he has that stupid cute bunny grin on his face.

Chuckling, you say, “God, you really are so corny.”

“Hey, can a boyfriend not be turned on when his girlfriend says she loves him?”

At that, you freeze. Jungkook must’ve noticed because he stops caressing your head. You move away from his chest and lean on your elbow so you can look down at him.

“We’re girlfriend and boyfriend now?” You ask with knitted brows.

Jungkook looks just as confused. “I mean… yeah?”

“Oh.” You nod. Looking to the other side of the room, you ponder, “Well, that makes sense.”

Jungkook looks offended when your gaze falls back to him again. “What do you mean that makes sense? We’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend since you told me you liked me.”

“You told me you liked me too,” You roll your eyes. “But… really? You think that?”

Now, Jungkook’s pouting.

“Wait, you didn’t think we were boyfriend and girlfriend all these months?”

“Eh…” You think about the past four months since you both established an exclusive relationship with each other. You’ve always thought it was just this unlabeled thing. But apparently… “I guess we are boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“I literally introduced you to my friends as my girlfriend last month, though?” Jungkook asks.

You jut your bottom lip out. “I have no idea.”

He sighs. “Forget about it.”

“It’s okay. I love you.” You say, blinking at him.

Jungkook visibly melts at that.

“I think you just found a new way to get away with anything…” he says, eyeing you suspiciously.

You snicker and cheekily press a quick kiss to his lips.

There haven't been a lot of people who have come to your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect Jeon Jungkook to be one if it – not at all. But what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

Meanwhile, Jungkook thinks the same as he caresses your hair, staring at your serene face while you sleep in his arms, thinking it couldn’t get any better than this.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #fic: cnbl #cnbl drabbles

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mypoisonedvine · 4 months ago

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𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 (part I) | frater imperator x reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 | when the newly-appointed head of the clergy decides (or, has it decided for him) that it is time to marry, he neither has time for nor has to worry about the stress of dating... he can just take his pick.

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 | 5.2k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 | for the series overall: smut (18+ only!!), arranged marriage, extreme religious themes, shy!reader, and lots of pining/slow-ish burn. for this chapter: mention of death and mostly just reader having anxiety... and a hint of my glove kink coming through but that's neither here nor there

this is probably not worth saying when it's already in the title but uh, rite here rite now spoilers. so sorry but it's literally what the fic is based on so I couldn't help it.

Frater Imperator… Frater Imperator…

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the title, still. It was a shock already when he first read the letter from his mother— on top of the shock of losing her, which was more than enough— but it still hadn’t quite sunk in.

He was so shocked by the promotion, in fact, that he’d been entirely unable to process the paragraph afterwards:

And please, do as I’ve been asking for quite some time and finally take a wife. Or husband! I’m not picky. But you need someone beside you to keep things in order and keep you in line.

Yes, Copia’s mother had been encouraging him towards marriage for quite some time, even before he knew she was his mother; in some ways, it made more sense once that element came to light, though it did change the tone of her request quite a lot. It also made him take it much more seriously.

And now, it could be argued that this was basically her dying wish. He really had no other choice: he couldn’t put off a marriage any longer.

See, he’d never had a problem with the idea of it— he’d always imagined getting married some day, like most people seem to— but he wasn’t the luckiest in love. A broken heart or two (or five) had convinced him to focus more on his work with the church, and to be fair, no one could deny that the work had paid off. But, as they say, it gets lonely at the top: and now, he was the leader of the whole church, and he had no prospects or even romantic interests to speak of.

Fortunately, he had realized that because he was the leader, he didn’t need all that: all he had to do was say the word.

The announcement spread through the congregation like wildfire: the newly-minted Frater Imperator was going to get married. The part they neglected to mention— and the part everyone wanted to know the most— was to whom.

There were already plenty of rumors, which you avoided because you felt they were all baseless. Even within one day you’d heard three different stories about this mysterious future spouse, each more preposterous than the last: that he had a secret lover in the ministry he would wed, that he met a fan at a ritual and swept her off her feet, and that he had some previously unmentioned long-term girlfriend who wasn’t even in the church.

The wedding was less than a week away and all anyone knew was that everyone would be there.

Unfortunately, it was hard to ignore the gossip, even if you weren’t participating in it. The night when it all began, you were trying to read while several of the other Sisters were giggling amongst themselves over their various theories. “I wasn’t sure he’d ever marry,” someone admitted, “even though he could probably have anyone he wanted.”

“Not me,” one Sister announced smugly, “I never thought he was all that good-looking.”

“Oh please,” another scoffed incredulously, “you’d be on your knees in a second if you saw him at a ritual.”

“Besides, his looks aren’t the most important thing: this is the head of the clergy. Whoever he marries is probably going to be spoiled rotten!”

They laughed excitedly, and though you’d been trying to tune it out, you couldn’t help but wonder about it as well. The announcement had left so much unanswered, but the timing of it seemed too important to ignore. Perhaps the clergy had forbidden the Papa to marry— you weren’t aware of any rule against it, since to your knowledge none of them had ever tried— and so he’d had to wait until his time was complete to be with the person he loved. Perhaps it was the death of his mother that triggered it: at best, a renewed desire to find happiness and family when faced with a reminder of mortality; at worst, his mother hadn’t approved of his lover and only now was his final obstacle removed.

Ironically, after all those times you failed to ignore them before, it took the other Sisters several attempts to tear you out of your train of thought now: you blinked quickly and looked up from your book as you realized they were saying your name to get your attention.

“Hm?” you mumbled hazily when you looked at them.

“A message for you,” Sister Agnes informed you, leaning over to hand you a rolled parchment. You weren’t sure if it was private or not, but everyone was staring at you in anticipation— in fact, you noticed then that their entire conversation had died down to silence— and so you awkwardly unrolled it and read the writing inside.

MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY:

Frater Imperator and the clergy request your presence in the upper sanctum imminently.

As soon as you descended the stairway back to the mail halls of the abbey, a gaggle of Sisters descended on you, wide-eyed and desperate for gossip. “So?!” Sister Lilith asked expectantly, like the rest of her question should be obvious. “What was it about?”

“Was the whole clergy there?”

“U-uhm, all but Frater,” you replied shyly.

“What did they say?”

“Don’t be silly, ladies,” Sister Agnes scoffed, “it was obviously about the wedding. What else would there be meetings about today? They must want her to help in some way: communion, maybe?”

“Ooh! A bridesmaid!” another in the group suggested excitedly. “Do you know who he’s marrying?”

“Of course she knows!” someone answered for you. “Who is it? I was right, wasn’t I— it’s someone in the church!”

“Well… yes, I know who it is,” you mumbled, “but I… I’m not sure I’m permitted to speak on it.”

That was a lie, but you were too busy trying to process it all yourself to share it with anyone.

“Just tell us,” they begged. “You won’t get in trouble!”

“The wedding’s only a few days away,” Sister Lilith pointed out, “so there’s no point in it being a secret now— and if I’m right about who it is, Sister Magdalena owes me a fifty.”

“I’m sure you didn’t guess it,” you promised her.

But the questions just kept coming: “It is a woman, though, right?” “Is it someone you know? Wait, is it someone we know?” “

You realized that if you didn’t tell them now, they would either figure it out soon or be entirely blindsided at the ceremony. Not to mention that if you refused to answer their questions, they’d just keep grilling you until they got something. Your voice was actually quite feeble in that moment, not loud or strong enough to cut through all that chatter— but your words were enough to stop every question being thrown at you in its tracks.

“It’s me.”

You waited for them to react, but for a moment, they didn’t.

“I was asked to— to take the position,” you specified, putting it as vaguely as possible. I’m going to marry Frater Imperator was just as true but was just as hard to say as it was to wrap your head around.

They erupted into a variety of reactions, all of which at least had some element of shock involved. “I had no idea you were so close!” Sister Agnes exclaimed.

“We’ve… never even spoken…” you shyly replied, and the excitement quickly died down. You weren't offended by their quizzical stares; if anything, it was a relief to see some of them looking as confused as you felt.

Why did he choose her? you caught a few whispers in the back of the group. They're strangers? What makes her so special, then?

You wish you knew the answers to those questions.

That night as you laid in bed, you couldn’t do anything but replay the clergy meeting in your mind. You’d felt so small across the table from all of them; you had no idea air could feel so heavy and stiff, matching the tense energy as you waited for them to explain why you’d been summoned. As it all happened, you thought you would never forget every detail— but already you were losing your memory of what was said in what order, when exactly you realized you weren’t in trouble, how long it took you to believe what you were hearing.

Should we not court first? Or have a meeting, maybe? You had suggested. Frater does not feel it is necessary, a clergyman firmly replied.

And he’s not here now, because… you trailed off.

We all feel you should make this decision privately— in case his presence would sway you one way or another, a high Sister answered.

You could see the logic in that, and appreciated the concern for your uncoerced consent… except, of course, that this was an offer already impossible to say no to. They’d successfully convinced you that you wouldn't be punished for turning down the proposal, but the marriage itself had already been announced: if you rejected the offer, someone else would surely take your place. And for some reason, though the idea of going through with this terrified you, passing it up sounded even worse. Even just imagining another woman taking her place at his side… why did it bother you so much?

Because you will take your husband's title, but will not have decision-making power over the clergy, your title from henceforth shall be Sister Imperator Consortia.

It had a ring to it, but it didn’t feel like you— at least not yet. It felt too… formal, too important. Generally, people don’t join a convent and put on a habit because they’re intent on standing out, Satanic or not.

You told yourself that you needed to rest while you could, you had a busy week ahead starting with a dress fitting first thing tomorrow. But still, you hardly got a moment of sleep that first night; part of you thought if you shut your eyes long enough, you would wake up to learn this had all been some bizarre dream.

You couldn’t decide, though, if you’d be relieved or heartbroken if you awoke.

In some ways, the wedding mass was quite similar to how you’d always pictured yours would be… except for the attendance. You were sure you’d never met this many people in your life! Even tonight, you wouldn’t be able to meet them all!

But, of course, this was the social event of the year, if not decade, for any church member or Satanist: it only made sense that there were throngs of people not only in the church but outside, waiting to see the new couple.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, face obscured by the black veil, your eyes widened with the thought that you might be basically the Kate Middleton of Satanism in this moment…

Trading your opaque veil for one of lace, your loose and simple dress for a form-fitting and extravagant one made of dark red silk and sporting an over-the-top train, you wondered if you were going to be swallowed up by all this overwhelming intricacy, all this… pomp.

Taking a shaky breath, you tried not to imagine that everyone else watching you walk down the aisle would agree with you that you were horribly out of place. You wished you’d had a chance to understand why you were chosen— to even just meet the high Frater, but the clergy had insisted several times that he was too busy with his new duties and planning the wedding. Yes, your fiance was too busy planning your wedding to speak to you. It was all horrifically ironic, and irritating. So, as you turned and stepped out of the bridal suite, taking your bouquet of Dahlias from one of the Sisters assisting you, you thought to yourself if nothing else, at least I’ll get to finally try to understand all this by the end of the night.

The doors to the main hall opened for you, and there was no turning back.

It was a massive room, with easily a thousand people between you and the altar, but the very first thing your eyes fell on was Copia all the way at the other end of the aisle: the all black suit was no surprise, yet even from so far his white eye stood out prominently, and it was fixed on you.

Walking down the aisle took quite some time— you’d been reminded to take slow steps, as if you were just going to break into a sprint or something. You tried to keep your eyes ahead, and ignore all the eyes on you: people seated on the furthest ends of the pews leaned and stood on their tiptoes to try to get a glimpse, but between all the encouraging smiles you caught an occasional glare of disapproval… it seemed plenty of your siblings were jealous of or disappointed by you one way or another.

Adjusting your clammy hands slightly, you realized you were unintentionally holding a concerningly tight grip on the Dahlia stems and the ribbon they were wrapped with; that said, you were very thankful for something you do with your hands.

Your heart was pounding by the time you reached the front of the hall, where the priest, the clergy, and your betrothed waited for you at the altar. A Sister took your bouquet away to free your hands just as you passed the front row, and when you looked forward again there were only a few carpeted steps between you and… everything.

Copia surprised you by reaching forward— at first you weren’t sure what he meant by it, until you realized and quickly took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs. He was wearing those leather gloves you hardly ever saw him without, but even still, it was the first time you’d ever touched him; was his hand shaking? You couldn’t tell, yet it almost felt like it. Not to say that his grip wasn’t a strange sort of comfort in that moment; as he helped you up the stairs, you felt yourself relaxing slightly, despite being far from over with the hardest parts of this.

The first few minutes were just a matter of standing and waiting while the priest spoke: you wish you could say you remembered a damn word of it, he must’ve said something about love or marriages or… you know, all that. Whatever it was, you were relieved when it was over and you could move on to the communion and prayer— the more familiar parts, and the parts where you got to kneel. You were actually amazed that your legs hadn’t been noticeably wobbly so far, but they definitely could use a break.

In the time that your head was meant to be bowed in your prayer, you carefully opened your eyes and turned your head— just enough to take a peek at him quickly. Well, your intention was to be quick about it, but once you started looking, you became distracted rather easily. It was just that you'd never seen him so up close, you were sure: you'd never noticed the slope of his nose before, or how long his eyelashes were, or the shape of his lips in this profile—

Suddenly, as if he sensed your stare somehow, his eyes popped open and glanced over to return it. He gave you a half smirk as your eyes widened and you snapped your gaze back down to your clasped hands.

“...and may they be joined in unholy matrimony for all eternity,” the priest ended his prayer: “Nema.”

“Nema,” you and Copia and the rest of the congregation replied.

The penultimate step of the ceremony was the exchanging of the rings, which were extended towards you both on a little velvet pillow— it was actually kind of adorable, you thought.

You figured he might take his gloves off for you to put the ring on, but it was apparently designed to fit around them; alternately, you had to suppress a startled reaction to your own ring as he gently placed it on your finger. It was a massive ruby surrounded with onyx and black diamonds, intricate and completely unsubtle. You knew Copia had expensive taste, and it was certainly in keeping with such a lavish wedding, but you wondered if it would look entirely out of place on you for daily wear.

I’ll wear this ring every day, forever, you reminded yourself; you breathed out shakily as his hands held yours so tenderly for one more moment after your ring was in place.

And then there was only one thing left. The thing you’d been preparing yourself for since this morning— or perhaps since that fateful meeting with the clergy: the kiss.

It felt pretty melodramatic with him lifting your veil over your head, and it felt surreal to be in the part of this that you’d been imagining in hopes of preparing yourself. Of course, it was a little different than how you’d pictured it, most of all the look on his face: it was subtle, but he didn’t seem as serious or muted as you were used to. It wasn’t like he was grinning or anything— that would’ve actually been sort of creepy— but there was a small smile on his face.

You heard the priest say something about husband and wife but you weren’t paying attention, it all sounded distant somehow. And maybe you sort of psyched yourself up for this moment too much— maybe you wanted to get the wedding over with, maybe you were afraid if you didn’t commit fully that you’d end up instinctively backing away when he came closer and you’d both be humiliated in front of all these people.

There were other possible explanations for what you did, but for whatever reason, you all but threw yourself onto him and kissed him.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but that moment may as well have been frozen in time; it took him a second to react, his hands settling near your waist— and it took the crowd a moment too, but they began to clap and cheer for you both at some point.

Truthfully, you weren’t thinking much about how it felt to kiss him… you couldn’t, really, without losing focus on the point of all this. You weren’t here to have a nice kiss or meet someone you might like— you were here to serve a purpose, to fill a role. And that’s not to say you weren’t grateful, but you weren’t going to let yourself be distracted from your duty to the church.

You backed away as suddenly as you’d latched onto him, and when you opened your eyes after scrunching them shut during the kiss, you saw him looking at you with a bit of shock in his expression. Only then did you wince to yourself and wonder, was that too much?

He took your hand and turned to face the congregation, so you followed suit of course, and as he smiled and waved at them politely you were a little surprised to see them all standing and applauding. It definitely felt like a bigger crowd from this side of the cathedral…

You were almost frozen for a second, until you felt his hand guiding you down— he was already on the first step down, so you quickly picked up your skirt and followed him. You had wondered before if you would feel different walking back down the aisle with him, compared to when you processed on it alone. You weren’t sure if you really felt married or something— what would that even feel like?— but you did feel different.

You felt better, actually— relieved, happier, you even caught yourself smiling at the crowd, but it was hard not to with how… energetic they were. Despite not really knowing what to do with all that attention, you at least appreciated it, though it surely had little to do with you. They were cheering for him because he’s Copia— Frater, the former Papa, heir of the Emeritus bloodline— and they were only cheering for you because you’re his wife.

And no, just because you understood that logically didn’t mean it felt at all real yet.

Frater Imperator and Sister Imperator Consortia! you could hear the announcement echoing through the hall, though it was distant compared to the claps and hollers. You dared one glance at him by your side, thinking it might be easier than looking at this massive crowd around you, and found him already smiling at you; and with a warmth beginning to spread on your face, you let him guide you out of the doors, into the rest of the church submerged in nightfall.

After a crowded spectacle like that, the quiet of his chambers was quite a relief. So much so, actually, that it dampened some of that eerie, anxious feeling of being alone with Copia in his bedroom; it wasn’t quite as spacious as you would’ve assumed someone with his level of importance would have, but the ornate and luxurious furniture made perfect sense.

You were so caught up in taking it all in, almost entranced by the beauty all around you, that when he spoke it slightly startled you.

“That kiss,” he said suddenly. “Wow.”

It was just that his voice sounded so different like this: no microphone, no massive chapel, just one small room with stone walls. There was a brief pause as he ran his gloved hand over his hair, blowing air quickly out of his mouth, and you realized you should probably respond somehow: for some reason, your mind struggled to accept that he was speaking to you directly. “I’m sorry if I was too forward, I just—”

“No! No, not at all,” he laughed thinly, “no, you did very well. I’m sure today was… overwhelming for you.”

It felt good to just hear him confirm that: up until now, everyone in the clergy had been sort of acting like this was normal, never really acknowledging (let alone validating) your stress.

“If it’s any comfort, it was for me, too. And I’ve had a lot more experience with large crowds than you,” he added.

You smiled a little; “Yes, that’s true— but it must be different here, at home.”

“Mm,” he nodded, pondering that for a second. “It is. But it’s preferable in some ways, too— like now, being able to come back to my own space.”

You envied that a bit; you were likely never to return to your chambers across the building, and while you didn’t necessarily enjoy sharing that space with a dozen other Sisters, it was probably easier than sharing a bed with just one man.

Before you could get a little too caught up in that train of thought, he spoke again. “I can’t believe I haven’t already told you how exquisite you look in your dress,” he offered.

“O-oh, thank you,” you hummed, “I’m very fortunate, it’s a beautiful gown.”

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he informed you proudly. “I have excellent taste, no?”

“You do,” you agreed with a small laugh.

“And you liked the ceremony, I hope?”

“Yes, Papa,” you answered dutifully. “I-I mean, Frater.”

“Force of habit,” he noticed, “literally. But, I'm not Frater to you anymore, I'm your husband.”

That certainly made your heart skip a beat, even though you couldn’t imagine you had forgotten it in the last ten minutes. “So what should I call you, then?”

“Well, just my name should do,” he laughed slightly, seeming a bit surprised by the question. “Spouses call each other pet names from time to time, would you like that?”

You might have been able to think about that idea more clearly if his hand wasn't on your waist, petting along the curve of it absent-mindedly. “I… don't know,” you admitted, “I’ve never really tried it.”

“It will come naturally, I suppose,” he shrugged.

“So, it is a proper marriage then,” you realized.

“Hm?”

You wondered if you shouldn’t have said it aloud. “I-I just mean, I wasn’t sure at first… if maybe it was all political, you know,” you admitted. “A marriage for show, not necessarily of a personal nature, I guess.”

“If it were political, I would have been paired up with someone from another church, I imagine,” he explained, one of his eyebrows raising. “Did you think I chose you randomly?”

It felt pretty fucking random, you wanted to say, but that would have been a little bit harsh. Instead, you sat down on the edge of the bed (which was only a little cumbersome with your dress) and he copied you, sitting just a few feet away. “I’m so honored you chose me, Copia,” you began, feeling a little odd about using his name so casually, “but I just… I can’t imagine why.”

“The clergy asked me the same thing,” he recalled, “but they weren’t satisfied with my answer— I’m sure you won’t be, either.”

“Try me,” you encouraged.

“Well… I saw you once,” he explained slowly, “in a Mass— I gave you communion, do you remember that?”

“O-oh, yes, I think you’ve served me the elements a few times.”

“This was the first time,” he assured, “I know, because I thought to myself she must be new, if I’d seen her before I would’ve remembered it.”

You tried not to smile too wide, but you couldn't help some reaction. You never imagined you'd left such an impression on him.

“You looked up at me, and you just looked so sweet… I couldn’t get the image out of my mind, you on your knees before me…”

You crossed your legs tightly. “I mean, I remember that too, of course. But it’s because it was the first time I saw you in your papal robes— I was just one of hundreds, I didn’t even know you could tell us apart.”

“Well, you stood out to me— maybe it was fate, eh?” he smirked. But he was the head of the clergy, the most important man in the church: he made his own fate.

“And that’s it?” you realized sheepishly. “You thought I was pretty, or something, a few years ago and so you married me?”

“Not pretty, no— pretty is cheap, cara mia. You were enchanting.”

Was this flattery? It seemed too perfect to be totally genuine, but hell, he was smooth.

“I thought of you often,” he admitted, moving closer to you, “I imagined if I might have you to myself someday… and now I do.”

His gloved hand rested on your shoulder before carefully moving up to the back of your neck; he guided you towards him, slowly and patiently, looking into your eyes for a moment but taking longer to look at your lips.

You swallowed nervously once before letting your eyes fall shut.

The kiss was soft at first, but grew more intense with every moment; he breathed a little heavier through his nose and you could feel it against your face.

His arms wrapped around you, and it should've felt nice, like a loving embrace; it sort of did, it just also started to make you feel claustrophobic, forcing you to fight the urge to squirm out of his grasp.

You wanted to give into it, you wanted to let yourself melt into his arms… but as he held you tighter and kissed you harder, your heart started to race in a way that wasn’t pleasant anymore.

Pulling back and pushing against him, you broke away and hoped he wouldn’t be angry with you or hurt by your rejection. Fortunately, he let you move back as soon as you tried, and looked at you with an expression more of surprise than frustration.

“W-wait, I—” you mumbled nervously, willing your hands not to shake with nervousness. “It’s not that I don’t— we’ve only just— I do find you attractive, but—”

“We don’t know each other very well,” he finished for you. “It's alright, you seemed nervous already.”

“Yes,” you sighed, smiling with relief. “I just thought… maybe we could get to know each other better first, before we…”

“I didn't expect you to be so shy,” he noticed with a soft laugh. You were keeping close watch on his tone and, from what you could tell, he thankfully didn't sound too disappointed.

“I-I’m usually not,” you assured, “maybe compared to some other Sisters…”

“Well, that's a low bar,” he noted with a raised brow, “but anyhow, it doesn't bother me. I'm happy to wait until you're… more comfortable.”

You smiled a little, glancing away briefly. “Thank you,” you began, barely managing to stop yourself from calling him by a title again.

“I just hope you'll stay in my bed tonight— it's your bed, too, you know. Nothing else has to happen.”

“Of course,” you smiled, “I'd like that.”

He nodded shortly at you and moved as if he was going to get up, but you opened your mouth impulsively to speak— even if nothing came out right away— and he stopped.

“But, um— you could kiss me again,” you suggested quickly, before you lost the nerve. He smiled, with a certain sparkle in his eyes that made you squirm slightly against the bed.

His hand brushed under your chin gently, lifting your face until you were forced to look right up at him. “If it would please you,” he returned with a purr.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded; “Yes,” you insisted softly.

This kiss was slower, but no less intoxicating: he touched you like you were the most fragile thing, and the movements of his lips seemed to gently guide your own. You heard yourself sigh against him, and his thumb started to pet your jawline tenderly.

You remembered that moment clearer now, the one he described to you before. Taking communion from him, kneeling under him, waiting with an open mouth for him to deliver the mana to your tongue… the cool golden chalice against your lip and the bittersweet wine…

His other hand delicately landed on your lower back, and you opened your mouth wider, letting his tongue graze against yours.

When he pulled back, you found yourself leaning forward just for a second, chasing him for more. And he obviously noticed, it was clear from the way he smiled down at you. You wondered if he would indulge your desire for more— for a second, you imagined he might decide that you were more ready than you'd let on and take you right then and there. A little brutish, yes, but the idea tickled a certain corner of your brain.

But, no, he sat up straight and let out a short breath. “I'll get ready for bed,” he announced. “You should too— you've had a long day.”

You nodded back; “Yes, Papa,” you returned compulsively once again. “Damn it!”

“It seems you have a lot of new things to get used to,” he laughed.

More than you know, you thought to yourself as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

#rhrn spoilers #rite here rite now spoilers #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #frater imperator x reader #ghost bc fanfic

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cupidkenji · 7 months ago

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ghost in the machine

Pairing: Unsub!Spencer Reid x Agent!Fem!reader CW: Fluff, longing, mild angst, one paragraph with heavy implications of sex, cursing, mentions of reader being in a car accident, mentions of suicide and death, suggestive Ig? idk Spencer kind of taunts reader, if I miss anything please tell me! Summary: An unsub targeting local political powers starts calling you. With virtually no memories of your life before 15, you're tasked with finding out why his voice feels like home. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby. She's not physically described in this but reader is literally always a bigger person. Anyone can read but I wanna clarify <3 WC: 7.8k I lokey feel like I fumbled this one but this idea has been in my head since I saw a post about it like last month so i'm sorry in advance if it sucks 💀 I'm not saying looping ghost in the machine by SZA while reading this will elevate the experience but just know it's strongly advised and im even giving you a link to the song for easy access.

The fourth case this month. This was the fourth battered politician you’d forced into handcuffs while ducking away from the recoil of blood spewing from his mouth. The men you’d arrested had all protested strongly - and wetly - while being walked to the back of your cruiser, demanding to know why you were arresting them even though they were the victims. They were always the victims. They’d been burgled and beaten - yes- oftentimes you were restraining them while they sat in bathrobes or pajama pants, but this unsub always jumped the gun. Somehow they managed all this damage while simultaneously kicking the dirt that had been sedentary for years out from under the rug. The men would call the police themselves - I’ve been robbed, I’ve been beaten - always astounded when you’d taken their statement then turned them around and recited their Miranda rights. This unsub was meticulous, planned down to the second. Somehow, the media always broke the story hours after the arrest with full fledged details on the crime - ones the BAU didn’t even have yet.

The first time this happened, you’d questioned every media worker from Quantico to DC. His target zone never seemed to reach beyond that, giving you an offender right in your backyard. Those were always the hardest to stomach. Journalists, Newscasters, even cameramen had been turned inside out as the team scoured for any connection. He was just too good.

“How can it be just one man?” Derek spoke first, but that was the question all of you were about to ask.

“Wife and kids were outta town. It was a sleeping 50 year old man against the element of surprise.” Prentiss was right, it wasn’t a difficult job when viewed like that. “Description is consistent with all the victims. All black attire, mask over the face.” She flopped the folder down in front of her for emphasis.

“Either he has another guy or he’s incredibly tech savvy. Some of this information was encrypted, it would take weeks to compile all of this. If he’s hitting a new vic every week that’s not nearly enough planning time for something this orchestrated.” Hotch checked the time on his watch. “We’re not finding him tonight. The local PD are investigating. We don’t have clearance until tomorrow. Everybody go home and get some rest, we need to crack down on this.”

As much as you loved your job, the departure was a welcome relief. The day had drained you, you had to basically drag yourself back to the BAU for the regroup after the case. It was routine, and incredibly necessary as this unsub continued his streak, but your brain was mush, and you didn’t know if you were capable of any breakthroughs in your current state. You were grateful, currently, that at least you weren’t dealing with a serial killer. He had an agenda, that much was obvious, but chasing a serial killer for a month bred a different kind of stress than chasing an anarchist.

The AC blast that hit you upon entering your home seemed to steal the tension from your shoulders. It was summer, so on top of hunting an unsub who was essentially a ghost, you were also bearing through the violently humid nights. You locked the door, pulling up your sleeves as you walked deeper into your house. The lights were on, you never left them off for long, and your eyes locked on the pile of notes sitting on your counter. Three small papers, torn at every edge, were draped over each other. Evidence, you thought. You’d kept them for evidence. Once you told the team the unsub had been reaching out, you would show them the notes. It was that simple, you were planning to tell them. You didn’t know why the information hadn’t entered their radar yet. This unsub was clearly infatuated. You could be a valuable part of solving this case, the notes could be the reason you solved it at all. Those were words straight from the source, they would tell you more about the unsub than any crime scene analysis would. Something about them just stilled your tongue, though. You never particularly liked the feds, the cops, the higher ups. You became one of them begrudgingly, you’d been good at reading people your whole life. You wanted to solve things, see justice. It was never primarily about helping people for you, and you feared the reputational repercussions if your team members ever found out about that. You weren't ignorant, you had morals. You simply lacked the place of purity they came from, the virtue your team members carried was one you were void of. Half of the time you walked away from a case, you disagreed with the verdict, and you were ashamed.

You had only realized you zoned out when the phone rang, effectively breaking your gaze away from the notes and onto the ‘Unknown caller’ screen glaring at you from your cell. Morgan just got a new phone, you remembered. He’s probably checking in. You picked it up, stating just your last name in greeting as a reflex from almost exclusively talking to other agents.

It was quiet for a moment, reaching the period of time where your stomach knotted up and almost forced you off the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” The voice was a new one, it pulled at certain strings within you. You knew him, but you didn’t recognize him.

“Who’s this?” The spark of familiarity filled you with guilt. A car accident when you were 15 had stolen most of the memories from your childhood and left a bountiful amount of scars in their place. You barely remembered your own parents, if this man was an old relative, you definitely didn’t know who he was. As much as your family tried to be empathetic, you could tell it hurt them when you were none the wiser.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice.” The man was smiling as he spoke, you could hear it in his tone. “Your number was shockingly hard to find. Feds really don’t mess around, huh?” Your shoulders tensed, you looked around. Blinds were closed, your house was the same as when you left it. You're sure it wouldn’t be hard to find your address if he’d found your number. “I’ve been trying, believe me. I left those notes while I was looking, although it’s really not the same, is it? Phones are so revolutionary, I mean writing you a letter is one thing but it’s so underwhelming in comparison. A piece of paper doesn’t let me listen to you, doesn’t let me hear those little breaths you take when you get scared.” You didn’t even realize your breathing had changed until he called you out.

“Do I scare you?” He sounded so domestic, the contrast between the genuinity laced in his words and the actual words themselves just about knocked you over. “I hope I don’t. I’m not trying to.”

“What are you trying to do?” Your mouth felt sealed shut, just barely managing to grate out the words.

“If you’re asking about my agenda, I’m afraid that’s a private affair for now.” He was so casual about this, sarcastically sucking air in through his teeth like he was telling you he couldn’t meet for coffee next week.

“What do you need with me, then? You don’t want to share and you aren’t calling to gloat. What’s the point?”

You heard him click his tongue at the question. “Everything is so technical with you agents.” You could basically sense his lips quirk up, gaining some type of sick intuition for the man’s tendencies. “Maybe I just wanted a word with the pretty detective working my case.”

Your knees were trembling, your grip getting looser on the phone as you struggled to keep your hold through the tremors of your hands. You had to focus, you could take advantage of this. “Why politicians? What happened to you?”

“Personal grudge.”

“How do you get their data so fast?”

“I know a guy” He knew a guy?

“So you have a partner?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s no one of importance.” Sibling, maybe?

“It’s important to me.”

He chuckled at that. You needed to hang up.

“Y/n-” Could he sense your fucking muscles tensing? “Don’t tell your friends.” He could hear your heartbeat from where he was, you were sure of it.

“Why?” You were instantaneous, barely letting him finish before responding. “You gonna hurt me?”

“No.” He scoffed. “If you tell them, I’ll have to stop reaching out.” You swore you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Is that really something you want?” Cold sweat pierced through the skin on the back of your neck. You yanked the phone down from your ear and hung up.

No, it wasn’t.

–

You dreadfully greeted the sun as it peeked through the slits of your blinds. You’d slept maybe a half hour in total last night, sleeping in five minute increments while bearing through a paranoid haze only comparable to the first time you’d smoked weed. The world felt unreachable. You could see it like a screen but your true consciousness sat captive in his hands. He’d known you. That was the fact stuck in your throat, that’s why you couldn’t sleep. Does that mean you knew him?

“Jesus.” If you had to guess, the sight of your sunken eyes and hunched shoulders was the trigger for Morgan’s reaction to the sight of you. Walking into work wasn’t going to be fun, you knew that, but you hadn’t expected such an immediate acknowledgement. “Someone have a rough night?”

You wished you could banter with him. Morgan always made working here feel lighter, he was fun to be around, but you were guilty. If you were tired from a one-night, insomnia, even if you were drunk and puking your guts up all night, you would have joked back with him. Now, you had to force yourself to make eye contact. A childish part of your brain was scared he'd smell it on you. At this point, you were fraternizing with the enemy, and it’s repercussions were draped over you like a curtain. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Clearly.” He handed you a mug of coffee. “Is it the case? If it’s bugging you that much, one of us can stay with you for a couple nights. It’s no trouble.”

“No, Morgan, that’s not necessary.” He was so kind it was nearly suffocating. If someone stayed, he either wouldn’t call or you’d have to decline it. Both of those options making an uncomfortable amount of unease stir inside you. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.”

“Just tell me if you need anything.” He nodded at you, you nodded back, then you both headed into the conference room.

“Any leads?” You walked to your seat as you asked, unsure what you were hoping to receive as an answer.

“None.” Everyone else was gathered around the table, Hotch scanning through the file as he replied to you.

“We’ve pretty much ruled out the media workers.” Prentiss spoke up. “This guy’s most likely an anarchist. His previous victims haven’t belonged to a consistent party so he’s not lashing out at the opposing side.” She thought for a moment. “What path leads somebody to anarchy?”

“Maybe he’s been kept out of office.” Morgan started speculating, just trying to sweep together something they could pin to him. “If he’s been running long enough, maybe he gets angry, changes course. He could be jealous of his targets.”

Your brain was half focused on the case, half focused on him. Two sides of you were fighting, one instilling a sort of protectiveness over him, one howling at you to do your fucking job.

“I don’t think he’s an anarchist.” You leaned forward in your chair, revving up to present your theory. “He’s been described in the same outfit for every victim. Long Sleeve, cargo pants, gloves and a ski mask - all black. That’s as minimal as it gets. Some pretty low income areas are well within his safe zone.” You paused, looking around to see if they were understanding what you were getting at.

“He’s poor.” Hotch had a glint in his eyes. Almost.

“So - what?” Morgan prompted. “He’s doing this for money? This is way too elaborate for somebody needing cash.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Hotch, there was evidence of Scopolamine injections. A man who either knows how to make the chemical or already has enough money to buy it wouldn’t be in a position that warrants this. Plus, the kind of tech it would take to get the information he steals? Way more than your typical Best Buy - this is Garcia level stuff. He injects them and probably forces them to help with the robbing, he beats them senseless - he’s getting some kind of kick out of this.”

“He’s not poor” You concluded. “But I’m pretty sure he used to be.” You sat up straighter to elaborate. “A lot of times, kids who grow up homeless or with no money feel wronged by politicians. Here they are going to school hungry while the mayor rolls in cash and lets them bear the consequences of a put-off promise to help the community.”

Prentiss sat back in her chair as she considered your words. “To build this type of anger, though? This is a vendetta.” She glanced down at the crime scene photos as a reminder.

“Exactly. Anger is expected in normal cases. Something extreme clearly had to happen to explain this type of outburst.” Personal grudge, you remembered him saying. You felt like you were airing out his secrets as you spoke. A weak sense of betrayal tugged at your guts. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, going over what type of event could cause something like this and I think I have an idea.” You pulled out your phone while talking to call Garcia, the woman answering immediately.

“Garcia, can you look up children in the Quantico to DC area who died from complications with chronic illness? Probably late 90’s to early 2000’s, I don’t think our guy is old enough to have been running for office.”

“That’s gonna be a large list. Any more parameters you can give me?”

“Look for families making less than 20,000 a year.”

“Got it. There were three families making under 20,000 that reported losing a child of illness. One was of stage 4 cancer with no plausible recovery and the other two said they couldn’t afford the medication needed for treatment. I just sent them over.”

“You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it.” You hung up the phone, pulling up the files she found.

“What exactly are we looking for here?” Morgan looked to you.

“We can rule out the first family. Dying of cancer wouldn’t create the effect needed for our unsub.” He looked like he was about to reiterate his question. “What we’re looking for is a sibling. If your family is struggling, you already have the seed of anger that this guy has. I think a family member dying from the lack of money might just give him the motive he needs.”

“That’s good thinking, he could be avenging someone.” Praise from Hotch always felt better than others. “The Bryson family was just the mother and the daughter who died. She worked in janitorial for the local middle school.”

“Doesn’t exactly fit the profile.” Morgan was right, all the testimonies had described a man. Plus the assumption of decent financial prosperity didn’t fit someone still working at a middle school.

“Who does that leave?” You were searching for the answer to your question, but Prentiss was quicker.

“Diana Reid and her two sons. Henry had type 1, seems like they could afford the insulin for a little while but something must have happened. He went into DKA and died a week later.”

Two sons. “What about his brother?”

“Uhhhh-” She scrolled down on her tablet. “That would be one Spencer Reid who…” She scrolled just a little bit further to find the whereabouts of the man, the hope in her eyes snuffing out with the information she read. “is dead. Says he committed suicide a couple years after his brother died.” The whole table deflated a bit as she said that.

“It was a good idea.” Hotch, despite being a monotone man, usually tried to keep things optimistic. “We’ll continue pursuing that angle. Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to go back to the first crime scene. I’ll call Dave and we’ll head to the latest.” The mentioned agents nodded their heads and started making their way out the door.

Your eyebrows furrowed at your lack of instruction. “And me, sir?”

“Go home.” He looked you over for a moment. “You look like hell.” Then he was gone, calling Rossi on his way out. How mortifying.

–

It had been three days since Hotch’s dismissal of you. You managed to get some sleep, convincing your co-workers of normalcy when you went back into the office the next day. In truth, you were anything but. You had been noticeably distracted but the others chose not to mention it until it hindered your performance, which it had yet to do. You were on a timer, counting down the seconds until your next call with him. You seemed to be endlessly tugged back and forth between excitement and pure dread. Everytime you got home, you took a moment to stare at your phone, almost like you could will him to call if you glared at it long enough. The day was just shy of a week since his last attack, and you were nervous as hell. Your phone buzzed once, then it buzzed again. He was calling.

“You’re early.” You didn’t find it fitting to greet him. You knew who it was, why be friendly? “Is there another one?”

“Relax, honey.” His voice lit a fire in you. Jesus. “I didn’t know I was only permitted one call a week.”

“What are you playing at?” You tried to sound sturdy, but your voice hit your ears with more desperation than you’d ever expressed.

“I could ask you the same.” You could hear the tilt in his words, he was so sure of what he was doing. “You didn’t tell them about us.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m not in cuffs, am I?”

“You think we’d catch you if I told them?” Was it your fault he was still free?

“No.”

“Maybe they’re listening.”

“Maybe.” He was so unbothered by the notion. You were never a good bluffer.

“It wouldn’t bother you?” You narrowed your eyes at nothing, staring at your wall as you tried to read him through the phone.

“You could bring in the whole nation, Y/n.” You listened more intently than you ever had. “It wouldn’t keep me from you.” You felt like you were choking on your own heart, feeling it beat at the confines of your throat. Jesus Christ.

“Do you know where I live?” Your lips were too weak to hold back the question. It’d been the only thing on your mind since the first note had been left on your car.

“Why?” His smile bled into his words. “Are you inviting me over?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why don’t you answer a question of mine?” He was so intentional, his MO proudly showing in the way he spoke to you. “Haywood or Clancy?”

“Are those your actual choices?” You tried to analyze him, justifying your actions with the ruse of investigation. He’d tell you more if he wasn’t monitored. “Or are you trying to throw me off your trail?” It was certainly plausible. Get you running after two men not of interest, leaving his real victim neglected by your team.

He laughed, breathy and soft. “I don’t know.” You could almost picture him tilting his head, faceless and so enticing in your imagination. “Pick one for me. Maybe I’ll do him next in your honor.”

“What do you know about honor?”

“Everything I do is about honor.” What did that mean?

“The only thing that would honor me is you turning yourself in.”

“What do you know about honor, agent?” His voice was taunting, you heard his body shift. “What do you think that team of yours would think about us, hm? Those are their words, not yours. You’re the one who’s waiting on calls from the enemy.” Shock paralyzed your tongue. You felt your head pulse with the blood rushing to your ears. “You don’t have to be guilty about wanting it, honey. You don’t fit with them.”

“As opposed to what? Fitting with you?”

He chuckled. “You’ve thought about it.”

“Nightmares, maybe.”

“That’s the angle you're going with?” He saw through you. “If you dreamt of me, I doubt they were nightmares.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know where you are.” You didn’t feel relieved. “I have no interest in hurting or robbing you. Why would I want your address?.”

You slipped your hand under your shirt to trace the scar across your chest. Gift from the accident, now a nervous habit of yours. “What do you want?” God, you were a broken record.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Y/n.” You could barely hear him over the thrum of blood in your veins. Your entire body felt tuned into his words. You’d never felt so far away while connected. “Only what I can do.”

“You take everything from them. More than just money. Clearly you lost something.” You were so sick of asking this question but you were getting farther from the answer with every conversation. “Why are you doing this?”

“They made the first move.” Jesus what did they do to this guy? “I’m not the bad guy, honey. I’m just defending my side.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“It might as well be.” He was quick with his responses. “It’s all the same to men like them.” You stayed quiet for a moment. How did you reply to something like that? “Get some sleep. It’s late.”

“Give me less crime scenes to look at and maybe I’ll sleep more.”

He smiled, you could hear it in his tone. “Every mean has an end, agent.” You held your breath, and as if gaining consciousness, you hung up the phone. You felt the brick of the encounter sit heavy in your stomach. He wasn’t lying. You were guilty, and you wanted it beyond belief.

–

You’d talked to him four more times over the past two weeks. There’d been two more victims corresponding with those calls, continuing his routine of a new one each week. Your understanding of your feelings had become less hazy as you talked to him more. Your guilt wasn’t from withholding information from your team, it was from the fact you wanted to. It stemmed from your instinctual desire to keep him to yourself. Let him exist differently in your home life than he did in your work life. It was difficult keeping something from profilers. It made you feel worse that they definitely knew something was up, but chose not to push it because they trusted you. Did this truly make you untrustworthy? You were only human.

You’d spent what was meant to be your day off at the BAU working. When there was a case like this, rest time seemed to take the backseat. You were drained, more emotionally than physically. You were lying to your friends, but truly, you didn’t know how deeply you considered them friends. They were good people, easy to like and easy to work with. You were starting to wonder if that's where it stopped, though. Everything about their company was easy, but it lacked gratification. His company was hard on you, but it was so rewarding, so filled with feeling that you started to wonder what your morals even were. You wouldn’t find them here, you thought. You certainly tried. You stared into the chipped white paint aging poorly on the brick wall of the bar as if the pigment of the words would organize your thoughts better than your malfunctioning mind could. The liquid in your glass was nearing it’s end. The drink had loosened your joints, loosened your mind. You hadn’t come here to get drunk, you were basically still sober, you just needed the warmth of a drink. There was a certain coldness within you, there had been since the accident. You accredit the feeling with driving away any potential love interests of yours. There was always a sense of being stuck, like you were interrupted in the middle of moving on, and never fully got to close the chapter. This wasn’t hard for others to sense. You were as emotionally nonreciprocal and unresponsive as a corpse.

“Mind if I join you?” A man who’d immediately caught your eye upon entrance gestured to the barstool next to you.

You motioned to it. “Please.” A casual invitation. You didn’t know how to talk to random men in bars. You took a good look at him, something subconscious stirring beneath your skin. The minimal buzz of the drink you had making you write it off, preferring the focus of his eyes on yours.

“What’s your name?” The smoothness of his voice could have rivaled the most expensive whiskey in that place.

You told him your name. He nodded, murmuring a “pretty” under his breath as he took a sip from his glass.

“I’m Matthew.”

“Pretty.” You reiterated, raising your eyebrows slightly as you joked. He chuckled, and you asked if he was new to the area.

“I’m a local, actually. I grew up here, surprisingly never been to this bar, though.”

“Really? I grew up around here too. This place is old as dust, been here forever.” You looked down, finishing the last of your drink.

“I know. I’ve wanted to come here for a while because it’s so old.” Something about him was so off putting but so irresistible. You’d never encountered such an uncomfortable concoction. It was intoxicating. “I lost the knack for drinking I had in my teen years. Back then my friends and me would just buy a 12 pack and get drunk in the field on Fromage.”

You lacked the memories to know if you related to the man, but you weren’t going to delve into why and kill the mood, so you lied. “That field used to scare the shit out of me. Everyone at my school said there were bodies out there.”

His eyes held a certain glint in them when he looked at you, his lips perked up at the edges slightly, if you hadn’t been a profiler you might have missed it. “Really?” Maybe you imagined it all, that or he caught on to you, the look leaving his eyes after lingering for a moment. The slight promise of something more sinister pulsed throughout them. The hairs on your arm were standing. “Mine said the same thing.” He smiled, looking away, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. “My school was full of dumbasses though so I never really took it seriously.” And you laughed.

You laughed a lot throughout the time you sat there with him. A few hours, you’d guess. He lowered your guard so easily, walking leisurely through the gates of you. You’d practically rolled out the red carpet for him. You wondered if he could see how easily he got in, how much you welcomed the feel of him in your veins. He didn’t seem to mind if he could. When he’d wanted to take you home, your lips parted, and you said you’d like that. You don’t really remember driving, knowing one of you did, both of you sober by the time you’d left. He’d been so gentle, so all-consuming. He’d run his thumbs along the scars he encountered, punctuating the sensation with his lips following close after. Mumbling praises against your skin and rhetorically asking “does that feel good, honey?” as your legs shook around him. He melted you down to pure liquid gold with just his touch, knowing exactly how to map you out. You’d felt him everywhere, his fingers burning their respective shadows on your skin, seeping slowly into your soul to leave marks there too. He’d felt so safe, the pure want joining the two of you together. A euphoric distraction from all the disaster you’d let befall you. He was gone before you woke up the next morning, but you saw him in your shadow, felt him in the soreness of your legs. He’d been a deviation, something put in your path to confuse you. What a brutal fucking night.

–

The same day, you’d gone to work, gone home, and then ended up back at the BAU an hour later. There had been another victim. Two days early. This was his eighth, and up until now he hadn’t strayed from his weekly pattern. This was a bad sign, if he was ramping up, who knows how many more he wanted to hit. The story had stayed the same, and that night you were arresting another board member, this time for solid ties to human trafficking. He really knew how to pick them. You’d give him that, at least.

The meeting post-arrest basically just shared what you were all thinking. He was ramping up, and you were getting no closer to catching him. Stating the obvious was doing nothing but wasting time. He was good. One of the best you’d ever seen. Nobody really knew what to do at this point. You watched their faces get more and more helpless and you felt bad. Nothing in your calls with the man would have helped you solve this case, you were almost positive. Any aspect that could have helped was one you explored.

Emily had said the name ‘Spencer Reid’ and the way your stomach lurched made you feel like you had to be onto something. You’d never had such an intense gut feeling about something only for it to be absolutely impossible. You hadn’t told them, but you looked more into him. His death was an easy one to fake. As much as you hated speculating on what could very well have been just a heartbroken boy, you couldn’t deny the theory you were building. His mother had found a suicide note, they hauled a body out of the river a month later and just assigned Spencer’s name to it, marking it down as conclusive. You weren’t convinced.

–

You got home within the hour, locking the door and pulling out your phone. You hadn’t called him before, but it was the same number every time, and you needed to talk. The phone rang so long you were almost sure he wouldn’t pick up. Almost.

“Y/n.” He greeted you. “This is new.”

“You broke your pattern.” You started with the topic at hand. “Why did you do that?”

You heard a chair squeak slightly as he leaned back. “What can I say? You being so interested gave me some extra motivation.”

“Interested?” What the fuck was he talking about? “This isn’t - I’m not fucking interested in anything. You’re a criminal.” You were slightly out of breath. When you lied to him, no matter how small the lie, air seemed to gain a disinterest in staying within your lungs.

“Mhm.” He was smug. That wasn’t a good sign. “I don’t believe that. You seemed pretty interested last night.”

He had pulled a lever, and your stomach dropped to your shoes. “That was you?” You sounded as defeated as you felt. Your eyes were watering from the pure shock, feeling the drop of the bomb shake you down to your core.

“You kept tracing that scar on your chest, you know that?” You hadn’t known that. “Almost like you could feel it.” Feel what? He didn’t elaborate. “You sounded so pretty when I touched it, when I kissed you. Been thinking about it all day.” He was breathy, sounding like he was trying to put himself back in it as he spoke.

You steadied yourself before you opened your mouth. “You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” He sighed. “You lied to me, though.” You hadn’t imagined it. “That field used to scare you?” He laughed slightly. “You were the one who told me about it. Took me over there once to look at the moon in the back of your dad’s pickup.”

God, this was frustrating. “Who are you?” The tears were dancing the border of your eyes, begging to run down your cheeks. “I knew you?”

“You know me.” He was so sure of it. “I’m still in there. Everything is.”

You had to ask, at this point you were near certain of it. “Spencer?”

He sighed, relief intertwining with his words. “There she is.” It was such a soft delivery, the moment he took before replying had you wondering if you’d said anything at all.

What kind of situation even was this? “Is this about your brother?”

“You know, when we were younger, my mother knew the mayor. He used to babysit my brother and me when she worked nights.” His tone was humorous, bitter, like he couldn’t believe the stupidity of what he was explaining. “I listened to him promise us he would change the community when he got the time. Get us a house with more than one bedroom, get us into a school system deserving of us. He used to call me a genius.” He scoffed at the thought. “Then my mom couldn’t afford the insulin, and he let my brother die.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“The payments wouldn’t have even made a dent in his pockets.” You could visualize him, alone in a room somewhere, that familiar crease between his eyebrows as he talked. You were going to be sick, you thought. “One man for every year my brother got to live. Seems only fair.”

“Two more to go, then?” You couldn’t identify a single thought in your head. All of them speeding past you like bullets before you could latch onto one. “Is it helping?”

“Yeah.” He sniffled, quiet and subdued. “It is.”

“I - um” A tear finally fell, breaking the dam. You wiped it away quickly, two more taking it’s place almost immediately “I have to go.”

“Y/n-” but you were gone already. You put your hand over your mouth, laughing into it slightly at the absurdity of your situation and sobbing into a moment later as you took the cold plunge into reality. You texted your parents, knowing they were asleep, asking if you could swing by when they woke up. If anyone would know something, it was them, and you had every intention of shaking them down to find out exactly how you’d known the man. You had to know. You spent the night preparing the questions you’d ask and trying to fall asleep. You were almost paralyzed with the weight of him on you. There was no getting out of it now.

–

The outside of this house always felt alien. You knew you’d grown up here, but it lacked any sense of home. You wondered as you stood out front how much Spencer had to have meant to leave more of a mark than the place you spent your first 18 years in. The sun was nearing it’s peak in the sky, it was almost noon. Your parents had texted back at eight am, worried and eager to know what was wrong, eager to see you. You’d fallen asleep barely an hour before that, waking up at eleven and quickly getting ready after seeing the text. You were scared. These were practically strangers to you, and you were betting an ungodly amount on them. That’s not fair, you thought. But honestly, nothing was fair, and you calmed your guilt with promise of filling the void in your gut. You broke your staring contest with the front door and leaned forward to knock, the thing opening almost immediately.

“Hey.” You spoke before they did. You found that being the first to talk usually decreased the amount of warmth in their greetings. “It’s good to see you guys. Thank you for having me, I know my texts were sort of alarming. I just needed to talk about something.” You held eye contact to the best of your ability. They brought out a deep feeling of shame, knowing they didn’t blame you for the distance but still being responsible for it nonetheless.

“Of course.” Your mother talked while your father looked down. “It’s good to see you too. Come in, please.” Your father broke from her side to go sit down, while your mother opened the door to usher you in. You stepped forward, nodding at her in thanks as you passed her, joining your father where he sat.

“Um…” You faced both of them as your mom took the place by his side. How did you even start this? “Well, in a case I’ve been working on, somebody came up.” You couldn’t tell them he was alive. “And he just…seemed familiar, I guess. Did I know a boy named Spencer Reid growing up?” You watched the sparks of recognition ignite in their eyes as you said the name. Your mother’s grew teary, while your father’s seemed to harden.

“Knew him?” Your mother chuckled at the thought of it being so simple. “You two were more in love than your father and I.” She rolled her eyes as she held your father’s arm, the man laughing lightly at her words.

“He was the first friend you talked about. I remember picking you up from the first day of kindergarten and listening to you rave about the boy who was ‘smarter than the teacher’.” Her tone got lighter at the end, seemingly trying to imitate the excitement of your adolescent self. “You two were always close, you know?” She seemed to remember him fondly. “When you got older, you would get so defensive if I asked after him so eventually I stopped. But I knew. I knew you two would end up together from your first playdate.” She was on the verge of tears, giggling at her own words as the stories she told surrounded her, smiling at the past.

“His family really struggled. Such a sweet kid, him and his brother both. They were over here a lot.” Your father took the role of speaker as your mother’s emotions got the better of her. “We went back and forth for a while after the accident on whether to tell you or not. It just seemed cruel to. He died the night before you got hit, and you were such a wreck we just -” He struggled to find the words. “We considered it a blessing you didn’t remember him.” Your father’s guilt was apparent, twisting his features slowly as he explained their choices. “You were so in love, sweetheart. You didn’t know who he was when you woke up and we figured, you know, what’s the point? When the only thing that could come from it was pain, it just seemed futile.”

You don’t think you blinked the entire time they were talking to you. You only knew you were crying when your vision went blurry, completely neglecting the beading of tears down your cheeks. You remembered the day your mother was talking about, seeing the children you once were illustrate the world in front of you. You could almost see his face, how it would have looked when he died, how he used to look at you. Like he was staring at the universe’s secrets, easing his hands through the veil to touch them - to touch you. You remember the feeling he gave you, something warm and distinct, reserved for the two of you only. If you could have seen yourself in the moments you shared, you’re sure you would have worn the same look in your eyes.

You started speaking, but couldn’t manage much. “Yes, yeah, you’re right.” Reassurance usually worked well. “It was a…a good call.” You had trouble with your words, remembering the feelings of him but lacking the visuals. “Do you have any pictures?” Your mother nodded in response, detaching from your dad and going to retrieve something that held the memories you sought.

“I’m-” Your dad started. “We’re sorry.”

You shook your head. Your parents were the last people who owed an apology. “It’s ok, dad. I’m glad you did it.”

“I could never myself look back at these. Thinking about what happened to them I just…I can never look at them knowing they’re gone.” Your mother re-entered the room holding a camera, dark pink and cheap. “It was meant to document your childhood, but he was around so much, it’s basically just a compilation of you guys.”

You held the thing in your hands. It was everything you wanted to happen but you couldn’t force your fingers to move. Did you even want this? He was alive, sure, but you’re certain the boy next to you in these photos would never see the light of day again. All your birthdays for thirteen years, field trips, science fairs, even just the two of you sitting together reading. It was all here. All consumable. You felt the urge to boil them down and burn your skin with the residue. Anything to keep a semblance of this life with you. You had a right to them, they were yours. Your teeth clenched at the sting of the absence. He had been yours and you couldn’t even remember. “Can I keep this?”

“Of course.” You’re sure the thoughts in your head were obvious to them, spinning like a cyclone in your eyes zoning out on the camera. “I’ve thought about giving it to you for a while now anyway.”

–

They’d made you lunch, then dinner. They told you tales of your past and you let them glance into your present. It was dark by the time you left, setting the goal to talk with them more. You walked to your car, having parked down the street, and tried to shake yourself out of the trance that house put you in. You thought you were seeing things at first, squinting slightly to focus on the chunk of passenger door that was shrouded with out of place darkness. Someone was leaning against your car. You didn’t feel defensive.

“Spencer?”

“Hey.” He pushed off the door and walked closer to you, facing you on the sidewalk. You could see him now, lit up by a streetlight. He took you in, too. Glancing at your hand and grinning. “I remember that thing.” You had forgotten you were holding the camera until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know, honey.” He shrugged, matching your exhaustion at the situation. “I guess I wanted to see how much you remembered.” He looked at you, his eyes just as bright as they’d been a decade ago. “How much I could make you remember.”

You sighed. God, if only it worked that way. “Do you want to-” What the fuck were you thinking? “Do you want to come over?” You’d looked through every picture on that camera. You missed him. You missed him in your space, on your bed, waiting for you at the bus stop. That knot of feeling stuck only wanted to unravel if it were his hands tugging at it. “I can drive us.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise blending seamlessly with the undiluted hope he carried as a kid. “Ok.” He smiled, just a tiny lift at the corners of his lips. The image of that smile resting on his teenage face struck you so violently you felt it in your bones. You looked at him, starstruck. His presence was a trance of it’s own.

“Ok.” You repeated him, trying to elongate the moment. You weren’t sure when you’d be ready to look away. He’d have to move first, and he knew it, so he walked to the passenger door. You blinked, grounding yourself, and unlocked the car.

You were preparing for an awkward car ride, but clearly your subconscious was more than familiar with him, being silent with him came as second nature to you. You took the long way back to your house, trying to enjoy the comfortability as long as you could. He added an elevation to your existence that you hadn’t been aware you were lacking. You pulled into your driveway ten minutes later, parking and turning off the car.

“Did you really not know where I lived?”

“No.” He was looking out your windshield, taking in the sight of where you felt safest. “I meant what I said. I never needed to.

You walked into the house first, hearing him shut the door softly behind him. You’d been listening to see how he’d close it, not sure what it would tell you, but deeming it important regardless. He’d been nothing but respectful of your space both times he’d been here. You sat down, nodding your head to the chair near you.

He let a moment pass, waiting to see if you had something to say. You had too much to say, too much to articulate. “I want you to leave with me.”

“Spencer-”

“Don’t.” His eyes were pleading, glistening with his unique mix of hunger and control. “Don’t write me off, Y/n. Nobody would know. They’re not gonna catch me. You can quit, and we can leave.” You looked away, down towards your hands. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” It was all you’d been thinking about. Usually in dreams - obviously your mind was more up to date than you were. You were going to do it, you thought. Of course you were. You looked at him and knew you’d go anywhere he asked you to. Still, though, you had a life. One you needed time to wrap up before you could leave it. You were a federal agent, if you went missing, they’d send the entire nation to step on your heels.

“Can I think about it?

He looked at you, suppressing a smile and tilting his head slightly. “Sure, honey.” He could read you so easily. He’d known he had you from the moment he asked. “I’ve still got two more.” The burning in your stomach wasn’t a resistance to the words. It was an admiration, a feeling you could wallow in. You weren’t an opposing force to him. Had you ever been? Truly?

“What happens if I don’t go?”

His eye contact had a way of transferring, enveloping any part of you it could reach. You were testing him. “Don’t force my hand, Y/n.”

You didn’t plan on finding out what that meant.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #x chubby reader #x fat reader #x plus size reader #spencer reid x chubby reader #spencer reid x plus size reader #spencer reid x fat reader #spencer reid fanfiction #suggestive #probably ass #im sorry for this #cupid:SR

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sillygoofyqueer · 13 days ago

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sorry i send you so many asks i might as well go live in your inbox BUT pangolin!shen yuan is SO CUTE (panyuan? shen yuangolin?), i know he LOVES climbing on wei qingwei's broad shoulders and traveling to the peaks, listening to wei qingwei talk endlessly about all the peak lords and cultivators and their swords.

as a pangolin he has no job or anything so he'd wander off to watch liu qingge train, standing there with his little paws held together in that adorable pangolin way. maybe some bai zhan kids try to kick him and liu qingge immediately punts them to the other side of the field bc everyone knows that if you mess with the pangolins, you mess with wan jian peak, and you really don't want that. or shen yuan goes to qian cao peak to watch mu qingfang work his medicine magics. an ding peak is definitely the best place for treats, esp shang qinghua who just plops a whole bag of nuts and seeds in front of him when he visits.

also he'd hide behind wei qingwei's legs, little claws clinging to his robes like a tiny scaly child whenever shen qingqiu comes by for disciple swords, because that man is intimidating and everyone is so freaking tall when you're only 80 cm long.

shen yuan has also 100% bitten people.

You've actually fallen for my trap that I set out purely to lure you into my inbox and now you're trapped here forever and ever and we WILL be having tea parties every week. Sorry. You're my friend now, that's basically what I'm like with my friends. I've just realised that I'm basically atticwifing you....but platonically. ANYWAY. Shen Yuan absorbs so much information from Wei Qingwei's rambles, even squeaking and offering little sounds to ensure that the peak lord knows that he is listening! While the rest of the sect have gotten used to this little limpet hanging onto WQW, visitors are like "is one of your peak lords actually insane" and the peak lords are like "nah just watch this" and they listen as SY seemingly RESPONDS to something WQW has said with a questioning sort of hum. Shocked Pikachu faces all around. Also, I love to think about a couple of the more spiteful, spoiled disciples of one of the peaks ganging up on poor pangolin SY because they think they're above the consequences of their actions. SY stumbles his way back to Wan Jian Peak, where he is met by WQW. The man is. Very gentle. as he treats the pangolin's wounds. Then he turns his attention to finding who has done this to his precious little pet, and all of the peak lords are reminded of just how scary WQW can be when he has a valid reason to be. The man is horrifying, normally warm and friendly smile wiped completely off his face - instead, there's a scowl. A petrifying scowl that looks out of place on his face. Let's just say that the disciples are very quickly found and...dealt with. Also!! I read the last little paragraph and just...immediately thought of a different kind of panyuan - a little demon type creature that WQW likely took in as a baby because...listen, so what if it's a demon, the shimei on the beast peak said that it's okay because "pangolin-type demons are harmless, trust me bro". This little pangolin baby has a human form, meaning WQW basically has a little baby that is sometimes a pangolin. In human form, he has his little tail and spatterings of scales over his body, and he is just a little GUY. He's just as charming as a little child, peeking out from behind WQW's robes and clinging to him, often just resorting to communicating through his little chirps and squeaks when he gets scared or far too shy for words. He is still taken to literally all of the peak lord meetings, because he's just a little guy, and god forbid anyone finds SY NOT sitting on WQW's shoulders or cuddled in his embrace. Everyone else is, at first, kind of hesitant because bro that's a child get him OUT of our meetings. Then they're hit with the big ole eyes and they fucking crumble.

#four being a dumbass #azzie!!!#panyuan au #if I can turn Shen Yuan into an adorable child I will #and you know that I will be finding a way to bring my silly guy into this #teehee #scum villain self saving system #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #scum villain #mxtx svsss #svsss au #svsss #shen yuan #wei qingwei

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coco-loco-nut · 6 months ago

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tumblr

pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

summary: idek, an unedited fluffy short blurb

requests open masterlist

———————

Usually your period isn’t this bad, but your body decided to rebel against you.

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asks, handing you a mug of tea as you are curled up on the couch watching your ultimate comfort movies.

“Like shit,” you groan, ignoring the cramp you just felt.

“I can make you a warm bath, maybe light some candles,” Oscar offers, sitting beside you.

“It’s okay, there is nothing Barbie doesn’t cure. You don’t have to sit here all day with me, go ahead and do your training,” you tell Oscar, watching to watch the old Barbie movies in peace, without Oscar worrying about you. He takes your hint without being hurt about it, he’s a big boy.

Honestly, you don’t know how you ended up with Oscar, he doesn’t really look like any of the princes, and those guys are definitely your type.

When Oscar reappears a few hours later, freshly showered, he notices you scrolling on your phone, humming to the music from the movie.

“Babe, I’m going to order pizza, what do you want?” Oscar asks, opening the app on his phone.

“Hold on, I’m about to get with you,” you say, fully invested in your phone.

“What?”

“This has been the slowest burn ever, but we are finally about to get together, in like chapter 20. I hate slow burns,” you huff.

“Babe, we are already together. You married me?” Oscar says confused. You finish the last paragraph and look at him.

“It’s fan fiction, Osc. You know, on Tumblr,” you show him your phone and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Why?” is all he can say, unsure of how to react.

“I got bored of writing,” you say, closing the app and refocusing on the movie.

“You write the fan fiction? For me?”

“Ew no. That would be weird. I write for the more popular drivers. You know, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Max, Daniel, Lewis,” you list and Oscar just stares at you. You are literally besties with Lando and Charles, but you don’t write for your own husband? He’s honestly offended.

“What do you mean ew? I think how you scream my name most nights contradicts that,” Oscar smirks, your face flaming.

“That’s why it would be weird. I’ve written it but it will never be published,” you admit, a little embarrassed.

“Anyway, pizza. Yes or no?” you quickly reply yes, hoping to move on from the conversation. That night, once you fall asleep, he scrolls through your account, reading the fan fictions you wrote and reblogged. It’s weird, but he enjoys your writing.

The subject isn’t brought up again until one drunken grid and WAG dinner, where Oscar drunkenly blurts it out.

“Y/n’s written fan fiction about us,” he says and all the guys look at you.

“The girls love it. Some of your antics make for great stories,” you defend yourself.

“So true, I love reading them,” Kika says, the other WAGs voice their agreement about it.

“What?” Charles is confused, but Lando, being the child he is, gets excited.

“Which one of us gets the most written about?” he asks and none of you waste a second replying.

“Charles,” the answer is in unison, causing the Monegasque to blush. None of you will admit that Lando is a close second.

Over the next week, you get random texts from them, asking which ones you wrote, but also their thoughts on different ones. Charles is appalled and flattered by the amount of smut written for him. Lando and Daniel are the opposite, they love the smut and how they’re talked up. They also told you that they got ideas from some of them, causing you to want to bleach your eyes out.

Eventually, they found out which account was yours, sent it to each other, and started spamming your inbox with requests. Lando’s tend to be about him winning a WDC, poor guy can barely win as is.

After a week of them spamming your inbox with requests, you decide to post an announcement on your account.

Dear readers,

Unfortunately my account has been outed. I know you all love my works and when I post some behind the scenes information about GPs. Sadly, my friends who work in an important role in F1 found my account and it no longer feels right to write this anymore out of respect for them.

Thank you all ❤️

↪️ user1 she knows a driver doesn’t she

↪️ user2 or an engineer

↪️ cl16racer don’t stop 😢

↪️ y/username sorry buddy, it’s time

↪️ oscarpastryy yeah, it’s a little weird now

↪️ landomorewins it doesn’t have to be!

“Wow, the guys are really torn up about it,” you laugh, Oscar’s arms around you as you cuddle on the couch. You had been thinking about stopping writing them anyway, so it was just a good excuse.

“I just wish you’d publish what you wrote about me,” Oscar kisses the side of your head.

“That’s far too dirty and intimate. It’s what I read when you are away,” you say with a blush. “You can read it if you want,” you hand him your phone. He holds the phone where you can both read it, his other hand running up and down your side absentmindedly at first but more intentionally the longer you read, until you aren’t reading anymore. That might’ve been some of your best sex.

“From now on, when you write like that when I’m away, you send it to me. Promise, Mrs Piastri?” Oscar says, kissing you.

“I promise,”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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writers-potion · 6 months ago

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No, you’re NOT a real reader. I’m so sick of all these people that think they’re readers. No, you’re not. Most of you are not even close to being readers. I see these people saying “I read over 52 books this year! That's one book a week. I'm so smart!” that’s nothing, most of us can easily read 176 books or more in a year. I see people who've only read Daniel Green and claim to be readers. Come talk to me when you pick up Atlas Shrugged, then maybe we can be friends. Also DEAR ALL WOMEN: Fantasy is not a real genre. Romance is not a real genre. Omegaverse is not a real genre. Forced Proximity is not a real genre. Romantasy is not a real genre. Coleen Hoover is NOT. A. REAL. WRITER. put down the baby books and read something that makes your brains hurt for once. Stephanie Meyer and Jane Austin don't count. :) Sincerely, all of the ACTUAL readers.

I don't know where to start, because you've called me out on too many occasions in this paragraph. Here are my (probably unpopular) thoughts on this:

Agreed that the sheer AMOUNT of books you read doesn't make you a good reader - it's what you understand/learn/feel about them that gives you the right to comment properly on a book.

Excuse me but fantasy and romance are genres??

Omegaverse, forced proximity and romantasy are subgenres/tropes in romance that I don't have anything against. If you don't like romance in general, well no wonder you don't like them.

Jane Austen was the author that got me into reading classics. What the hell do you mean when you say she doesn't count???!!

Stephanie Meyer - okay, the first book in the Twilight series wasn't bad, the rest went downhill....don't like her much but I can see why she's popular...

For me, as long as you read, you're a reader.

I believe the purpose of reading (apart from being entertained) is to expand our horizons, step into someone else's head and look into how others see the world. Throughout my reading journey, I've learnt to be better than to judge others on the honestly quite narrow subset of the human experience I've had.

Sure, not all books/genres are "helpful" per se. But novels are meant to allow readers to experience a diverse range of emotions that they otherwise wouldn't, and if reading give someone pleasure, why not? Even though I personally don't like romance too much, I can see the appeal of just wanting to read something for the fun of it. As long as they don't confuse reality with the six-packed, tall & rich billionaire heroes, I respect everyone's reading lists.

NOW, one last note:

Coleen Hoover IS TERRIBLE. Commercial success aside, I hate how to turns literal CRIMINALS into romantists (which doesn't even work).

COLEEN HOOVER IS NOT A REAL WRITER. I'll agree with you on that one.

#writing #creative writing #helping writers #let's write #writers on tumblr #poets and writers #creative writers #writeblr #writers and poets #resources for writers #writing community #read #reader #books #genres #romance #fantasy #coleen hoover #hot takes

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rdng1230 · 5 months ago

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Any SalTommy headcanons?

Thanks for the ask I have literally So many! ok I’m putting these into categories. The first is happy fluffy fun, the second and third is something I’ll probably have to discuss in therapy next week 🙃. For reals, I almost deleted those last paragraphs because here this nice person has come to my ask box and my brain has decided to reciprocate with the most hurt no comfort shit it’s ever concocted. Ok happy stuff first!

Saltommy as besties:

they are attached at the hip and their two favorite activities are Muay Thai and action movie marathons. At some point they get overly into the Guy Ritchie British gangster type movies and Hen has to institute a “stupid British accent” jar for the two of them.

Tommy and Sal don’t hang out that often once they leave the 118. But Tommy is ride or die for Sal’s daughter. He’s the fun uncle that isn’t constantly there but when he is he does something insanely awesome like build her a treehouse or a bottle cannon or something.

The reason Gina dragged Sal to twilight was because she is bisexual and just as into Kristen Stewart as he is. When Tommy *finally* comes out it’s actually Sal that suggests Gina take Tommy to his first pride. Sal stays at home with his daughter so Tommy and Gina end up having a very fun and alcohol filled night a la the bachelor party that wasn’t. (goddammit I think I just gave myself another fic in the series to write.)

k well that’s enough happiness this is about to get insanely angsty for no fucking reason besides apparently that my brain wants me to suffer today. If your brain does not desire to feed the angst demon inside of you, for the love of god stop reading now. I will NOT be offended because I wrote the damn thing and I think I took it too far. Also it gets a lil NSFW from here.

Evil toxic fucked up Saltommy:

Tommy’s fucked up dad and then fucked up army superiors and then fucked up captain Gerrard taught tommy he was safer following the big tough guy. He knows Sal is bad for him, knows Sal doesn’t love him, but he figures being useful is good enough when he knows he won’t be wanted. He lets Sal take more than he should, usually discreet hand/blowjobs in the showers or broom closet (yeah the metaphor isn’t lost on him)

They have a horrible call where the one person they did manage to rescue suddenly codes in the ambulance. A version of Sal that Tommy’s never seen before shows up at Tommy’s house. It’s the only time Sal ever lets Tommy fuck him and after it’s over, Tommy holds him and runs his hand through Sal’s hair. They fall asleep together but when Tommy wakes up Sal is long gone. The following week Sal is absolutely vicious to everyone. He ends up getting hurt and Tommy patches him up. As Tommy sterilizes a wound just above his eye, Sal grabs his arm and stares at him. It’s an apology, and it’s also an ending. Tommy still follows Sal, always one pace behind, but they’re never intimate again.

Idk I guess doomed lovers Saltommy? Sal’s not as much of a monster but they’re still not healthy:

There’s always a heat to Tommy and Sal’s banter and Tommy genuinely wonders if someday Sal might tip them into something more. One of the 118 probies dies and Sal on some level believes it’s his fault. The night of the probies funeral Sal’s just numb and Tommy suggests Sal crash his couch. Tommy hates seeing Sal in pain like that and hovers in front of the bedroom door wondering if he should go to him. He’s shocked when Sal opens the door and suddenly they’re in Tommy’s bed. He’s surprised by how cuddly Sal is. (And if you’re like hey that sounds a bit like Booth & Brennan shhhhh you saw nothing)

after that they start sneaking around. At this point Gerrard is gone and they’re in the revolving door of captains stage. Tommy starts talking about potentially telling Hen and Chim, and Sal just knows deep in his gut that Tommy is the braver of the two of them, and Sal won’t be ready in the time Tommy needs him to be. Sal starts picking fights hoping Tommy will run off on his own. Eventually they do stop seeing each other romantically but Tommy’s still so *close* it’s driving Sal insane. He wants to run away with him and he wants to run away from him at the same time. When Bobby shows up and doesn’t know his ass from his elbow a lot of the time, Sal let’s all that anger and tension bubble up, on some level he knows he can’t bring himself to leave Tommy, so he pushes Bobby into sending him away by force.

After he moves to the 122 he buries himself in the work. He makes captain, even starts dating men, but still in the shadows. He hears through the grapevine that Tommy is dating the 118’s hotshot. He sees a photo of Tommy and Buck at the medal ceremony in the morning paper, looking so obviously head over heels for one another, and it’s the first and only sick day as a captain he ever takes.

#Saltommy #wow Jesus what the fuck is WRONG with me today #Like apologies to everyone I think I need to be put down like a dog actually #Salommy #Sal deluca #tommy kinard #angst

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 1 year ago

Text

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: Yall know that tiktok sound that goes “My life is the crown, and yours is politics, and I will not trade one prison for another. I’m sorry I looked at Mrs Riley and lightly grazed her left tit.” That’s literally me writing thoughts/ descriptive paragraphs vs writing dialogue. Anyways lol. Not Proofread so excuse typos and gramatical errors, excuse If Miguel is ooc.

(Y/N)- Your name

Cursing, using of cannabis, mentions of throwing up (like nothing serious, but thought I’d mention it.) Miguel being a jerk, (Y/N) being a jealous jealous jealous girrrrl (read that I’m your head like in the unreleased Lana del ray song.)

Word count: 1.3k

Serious Masterlist

Chapter 10: Do I wanna know, if this feelin’ flows both ways?

—

“What a fucking asshole!” You hissed under your breath.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored him for 3 weeks.” Kate snickered as she playfully hit your shoulder, you just shot her a small glare, causing her smile to widen.

“Not funny.” You huffed, tone still quiet, crossing your arms on the dining hall table, and resting your head in your arms.

“Aww, poor (Y/N)..” Logan jokingly cooed, as he began to rub your shoulder from where he sat next to you.

From the other side of the uni’s dining hall, sat Miguel with some of his teammates from the hockey team, which wasn’t what upset you. What did upset you was what he had sitting in his lap, or rather, who. On Miguel’s lap, sat some cute blonde from your English class, she was a pretty little thing for sure, you couldn’t deny that, and even though you knew you had no right to feel the tightness building in your chest, had no right to feel your whole body get hot all over like you could combust into flames at any moment, didn’t mean you didn’t still feel it.

You wanted to find yourself disliking her for something that wasn’t her fault, maybe in an attempt to make yourself feel better about the situation, give yourself a reason to shift the blame onto something, or rather someone else. But despite your best efforts, you know you couldn’t bring yourself to dislike her, you didn’t even know her name, and the thought of hating another girl because of a man? You couldn’t. And much less the man being Miguel??? No way.

You let out a sigh and slowly lifted your head up and took a bite of your food in front of you, trying to zone in onto the conversation that Kate and Logan were having, but you could only do so for a few seconds at a at most. Finding your eyes drifting to Miguel’s table from time to time, a glimpse of him wrapping his arms around her waist here, a peak of him lightly kissing her neck there, it made you feel sick to your stomach. Wanting to make you puke the half of your sandwich you’ve eaten. Your lucky you were too far to hear the girl’s giggling or Miguel whispers in her ear, you felt like if you could have hear them as well as see, you’d have to leave the building in order to keep yourself from getting too-

“Jealous?” Logan’s word’s snapped you out of your thoughts, you let out a hum as you turned to face him, seeing the knowing smirk on his face. “He’s probably trying to just make you jealous.” He shrugged, but Kate’s face scrunched up in disagreement.

“Or maybe he got tired of you ignoring him and he moved on.” Kate said, popping a fry in her mouth. Logan gave her a questionable look, one that almost looked like he was asking her “you seriously think that?”.

“Can we not talk about this anymore? I’m already too busy this month to think about some hockey player.” You spat out last words that came of your mouth like they were poisonous, and although Logan agreed with your hatred for hockey players, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at your dramatics.

—

“I’ll see you later honey~”

Miguel had to stop himself from cringing, as he opened the girls car door for him, “you too.” He mumbled back with a half-ass smile, as she got in, before he closed her car door and she drove off. “Finally…” he sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

Maybe Miguel shouldn’t have picked a girl that was so clingy to try and make (Y/N) Jealous, but it’s too late now since you’ve already seen him with her around campus, so there was no going back. Okay, that’s a lie, he could totally dump her, but he was too stubborn. He’s thought about it, but then he’d think about how it would make that pretty little face of yours scrunch together in annoyance whenever he’d kiss the blonde on her neck, or how you’d not-so-obviously be glaring at him from across a room whenever he’d rest his hands on the girl’s hips. What was the girl’s name again? He’s been seeing her for a week and he still can’t remember, he should have written it down on a sticky note or something.

I mean he really didn’t care about her, all he cared about was you. He knew he was being a major A-hole, but in all fairness, when wasn’t he?

Once Miguel reaches his dorm, he opens the door to find Peter laying on the floor, a blunt between his lips, and the room covered in smoke, the pungent smell of Cannabis filling the small cramped room despite the window being open and the two lit candles on the nightstand. Miguel quickly steps into the room and closes the door behind him, before fixing the towel Peter had pushed up against the crack between the floor and the edge of the door, to prevent too much of the smell from leaking out.

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” Peter asked as he took a long drag from the blunt, his bloodshot eyes slowly wandered over to meet Miguel’s. Miguel didn’t need to ask Peter about what he was referring to. Miguel opted to stay silent instead, kicking his shoes off and placing them next to the door, before walking over to sit on the floor, leaning against his bed as Peter sat up and took the joint from between his lips into his hand and offered it Miguel would gladly accept it.

Taking a deep inhale, he felt the smoke fill his lungs as they felt like they were being lit a flame, being a hand up to his chest to help soothe the temporary burning sensation as he coughs a bit, puffs of smoke leaving his chapped lips, before he instinctively licked them. After a few more moments of silence that felt longer than it should have, Peter spoke up again.

“You both are acting like a bunch of middle schoolers.” He stated as he took the blunt back from Miguel.

“You don’t know what your talking about, your fucking high Parker. Literally.” Miguel shook his head as he sat back more against his bed, feeling the effects of the joint already start to take effect on his body.

“I don’t need to be sober to see that both of you are into each other, but both of you are too stubborn to say anything.” Peter deadpans.

“Can’t we have this conversation when we aren’t getting stone?”

“If we didn’t you would get too angry.”

Miguel let out a huff, knowing Peter wasn’t wrong. He took the blunt from Peter’s hand and took another hit. If he was gonna have have this conversation right now, he needed to be really fucking high.

“Miguel, as your best friend, and your dorm mate,” Peter places a hand on Miguel’s shoulder, “I want to tell you this in the most honest but respectful way, okay?” Peter raised a brow as he waited for some sort of response from Miguel, which he got in the form of a head nob. “You’re being a fucking idiot. Stop acting like a high school fuck boy that plays mind games and just talk to her. I get you don’t believe in ‘talking about feelings’ or whatever. But you can’t just mess with her and expect shit to sort itself out.” Miguel looked at Peter with a confused look, wondering we’re all of this sudden wisdom came from, maybe it was the wee- “wanna order McDonald’s?” Peter asked with a shit-eating grin, causing Miguel to let out a heavy sigh. That’s the Peter he knows.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @migueloharaspookiebear @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #on thin ice fanfic #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara au #figure skating au #hockey au #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 fanfic

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writing-till-i-am-dead · 2 months ago

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Aidlyn oneshot - It's Not Romantic, I Swear.

Requested by ServingDumbassBlonde on AO3 <3

Ashlyn felt like she was about to have her brain explode. She was texting Taylor with big, long, ranting paragraphs (which is nothing like her at all).

-Ashlyn: I don't know what to do, Taylor. He won't get out of my head and I really want to punch a wall, but, like, in a good way?? But also in a panicky way. I've never felt panicky and now I'm angry because I feel panicky and now I'm angry at Aiden because HIS DUMB FACE WON'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD.

-Taylor: Holy crap.. Ashlyn.. I think you have a crush on Aiden!

Ashlyn fumbled as she read the message, nearly dropping her phone but catching it just on time. A crush? On Aiden, of all people?! No. Absolutely not. That is ridiculous, stupid, and most of all, DUMB.

-Ashlyn: No I do not! Aiden is so annoying and loud and has no sense of personal space. Plus, I've never had a crush. Ever. And I intend for it to stay that way forever.

Taylor couldn't help but giggle at Ashlyn's texts. It's so unlike her. Usually she would just text things like "OK" or "👍" or "Don't be idiots" or "Have you done the homework?". Nothing like this. Taylor likes this side of Ashlyn. Vulnerable and more like a human who has immovable patience and levelheadedness.

-Taylor: Ashlyn, I think you should just think about it for a bit. Has Aiden ever done or said anything to you that made you see him in a different light?

Ashlyn sadly had several moments she could think of. Aiden saving her from a phantom and holding her close, Aiden checking if she was OK in the hospital and brushing her hand with his, Aiden nudging her foot in the living room before going to bed when she was busy being stressed, Aiden just... being there.

But Ashlyn couldn't say that. Hell. No.

-Ashlyn: I'm going to bed.

She shut off her phone and slammed it on her nightstand, hiding her face in the pillows. She still had a couple of hours until she and the others will be in the phantom dimension. And she knew she won't be able to sleep until then.

Taylor couldn't help but giggle at the final message. She's such a cat Taylor thought.

"Hey, Tay," Tyler says, stepping into their shared bedroom. He had a new pair of black studs in his ears after re-piercing them with Aiden (who had literally begged him nonstop for entire week to pierce his ears for him).

"Ohhh, nice new earrings!" Taylor said, doing a silly wolf whistle, getting an eye roll out of him.

"Thanks. Anyways, can I borrow your phone?"

"Sure. But what for?"

"Mine is dead and I need to text Aiden proper piercing maintenance before he gets an ear infection in the first night."

Taylor chuckled as she handed him her phone. "Is that even possible?"

"With him? Probably."

Tyler opens up his sister's phone and is met with a text conversation between her and Ashlyn. Usually, Tyler wouldn't care. Why would he? Ashlyn is just blunt and annoying. But this was something he couldn't help but get curious about. Ashlyn was sending huge, long paragraphs of some sort of rant. Very unlike her. This he had to see. So what if that made him a snoop?

He read through the messages quickly and felt his jaw drop. Taylor looked over and noticed her brother's expression. "What's with that look?"

"Ashlyn likes Aiden?!"

Taylor screams and snatches her phone away. "Don't read my conversations!"

"Holy shit, is she brain dead?!"

"Don't be so mean! I think that they're adorable!"

"Of course you do!"

"Ugh! Just get out!"

"But I sleep in here!"

"I don't care! Tonight I get both bunks! Now, shoo!"

Tyler rolled his eyes, still dumbfounded as he stepped out of the room. Seriously, Ashlyn likes Aiden? What awful taste, really.

He settles onto the couch and Taylor gets on the bottom bunk. Simultaneously, all 6 of them fell asleep together.

The 6 of them met where they left off last night. They were in their camp. A phantom had somehow managed to get through and now they were trying to find where it could have come from.

"I think it's west," Ashlyn says as they catch up with each other.

"I agree with Ashlyn!" Aiden says, looking over at her with a smile that said 'I only say this because Ashlyn said it'. He often had this look when she speaks.

Ashlyn averts her eyes and hunches over slightly, hating, hating, hating whatever this was. Ugh! He trusts her so much and so fully, it made her sickeningly happy. It didn't help that he had new piercings that she thought he looks weirdly good in and UGH STOP IT, BRAIN.

Tyler felt like gagging at the two lovebirds. "It can't be west. All the lights are working there. It has to be south. The lights are dimming there."

Ashlyn narrows her eyes at him and takes a step forward. "It couldn't be south, either. The walls are way too solid over there for anything like that. And dim lights or not, it still deters the phantoms. West is also closer to the trees, where the phantoms could have more shade."

Tyler glares at her. "No way it's west. It would make no sense for it to be there. Logan is patrolling there all the time."

"He could've missed something."

"No way. He has way too sharp of an eye for that."

Logan felt like interjecting here. "I could have totally missed something, Tyler."

"No, it just makes no logical sense. It has to be the south."

The two began to yell at one another, and Tyler resulted to yelling out of pure frustration, "You have no right to think you're smart about anything, you literally have a crush on Aiden!"

The entire group went quiet and Tyler immediately regretted his words. He had gone too far. He has a bad habit of not thinking before he speaks.

Everyone stared at Ashlyn and Aiden had to suck in a breath to try and slow his heartbeat as best as possible.

"I.. I do... I don't.." But Ashlyn was an awful liar. Her red face wasn't helping, either. "I don't!" she yells again, looking at the rest of the group.

Taylor looked absolutely guilt ridden and Tyler looked like he wanted to jump off a cliff because he felt so awkward and angry with himself.

Ashlyn then looks at Aiden, who is just staring. And that just makes this all the worse!

"I... UGH!" She storms away from the rest, flipping the bird at Tyler, which is probably the most irrationally angry anyone had ever seen her.

Aiden was about to go after her, but Taylor puts a hand on his shoulder. "Give her some space."

But Aiden felt like her had to talk to her. If this was true, if this was real, then... then everything would be.. it could be... he had to see if this was true. He had to. But he knew Taylor was right.

So, for the rest of the night, the group inspected both walls, and came to the finding that Ashlyn was in fact correct about her suspicions of the west wall, which made Tyler feel even worse.

The next day, at school, Ashlyn didn't show up.

"Should I text her?" Aiden asked. He really, really wanted to talk to her. To see her face. Hear her voice. Her her say it herself. The words that he so desperately wants to hear are true.

But Taylor just shook her head. "Just leave her be. My stupid brother seriously hurt her pride."

"But what's so pride-hurting about liking me?" Aiden asked, trying to make it sound like a joke, but deep inside he was hurting that the mere idea of her liking him could be some shameful, humiliating thing.

"Probably because you're annoying," Tyler said bluntly.

"Ty!"

"Sorry, sorry, I'll shut up.."

Taylor let's out a sigh and turns back to Aiden. "It's just that.. you know how she likes to be in complete control of how she feels and stuff. She doesn't like not being in control. So being alone will give her a sense of control over her life. So let's give her that."

Aiden slumped in his chair, Ben giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

That night when they all fell asleep, Ashlyn busied herself with work, avoiding everyone else, especially Aiden. This was really starting to annoy him. He tried to follow her around as she was reloading riffles, fixing lights, and whatever else she could do. But he just couldn't keep up with her.

At school, she showed up, but sat at a different desk.

Seriously!? Let me talk to you! Aiden thought, absolutely miserable. He hated this! He hated it so much. He wanted to hear her say it. To hear if it was true. Please, please let it be true. The more time goes on, the more painful it gets.

Ashlyn didn't even show up at lunchtime.

"You're a complete idiot," Taylor said, looking over at her brother.

"I'm sorry, ok! I've sent hundreds of messages to Ash apologizing and she hasn't responded once!"

"I can't blame her!"

Aiden stands up, hating to hear the fighting any longer.

"Tyler," he says. "You are stupid. Really stupid. But you may have helped me out."

"Huh-?" But before Tyler could say anything, Aiden was sprinting out of the cafeteria in search of Ashlyn. Ben tried to reach out and grab him to stop him, but just missed.

Aiden zoomed through the halls, looking in every possible place she could be, narrowly avoiding teachers who would scold him and waist his time.

He ran up the stairs, looking in all the empty classrooms, clubs rooms, anywhere. He ran past the dance studio, where he heard music.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at the door. He very slowly approached it before peaking in. There he saw a figure.

She was moving fast, her body angry and thrashing while still keeping its elegant form, landing each jump and pirouette with rageful grace. Her hair was like a blazing fire, spinning around her form like the flames wanted to eat her alive.

Ashlyn.

Aiden opened the door, the creaking of it immediately made her stop and she whipped her head around to face him. Immediately, she looked like a cornered wild animal, ready to pounce to escape.

"Ashlyn. Can we please talk?"

She doesn't say anything as she looks around for any sort of escape.

"Please. I think I have the right to know what's going on?"

"Shut up," she spits out. This is the first time he's heard her speak in days. It was like music to his ears.

"Please, cmon. Yknow I never get this serious."

She clenched her fists, shaking angrily as she turns away. "What do you want?"

"I just.. wanna make sure you're ok."

"I'm fine!" she yells. "Happy?"

He laughs and tilts his head to observe her. "You don't look it."

"I.. ugh! I.. am fine. I'm fine! I'm in complete control and I'm not on the verge of punching someone in the face or on the verge of crying or anything like that! I AM FINE!"

He takes a step forward, trying to remain slow. He pulls his hoodie over his head and tightly pulls the string, the hoodie overtaking his face.

"I don't see anything," he says.

Such a goofy, Aiden way to show that he cares. Damnit..

She sucks in a breath and lets out a scream of frustration. She might be crying. That was weird. She never does. Why now?

"Damnit, damnit! I've never felt like this and I don't know how to handle it. All my nerves are in fight or flight. Everything is exciting but scary and I hate it!" she yells, kicking the wall.

He nods along to her words, keeping his eyes blinded with his hoodie as not to embarass her.

"And for some reason.. Some reason.. I like you. I think. Ugh! You won't get out of my head. I want you to comfort me and I want to squeeze you so tight that you suffocate. And in a good way!"

Aiden goes completely quiet now. She said it. She actually said it. And so matter-of-factly. Wow.. But he had to keep his cool, for her sake.

Aiden stays silent as she takes in deep, slow breaths before saying, "Can I look now?"

She pauses before answering with, "No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because-!" she stops herself. Because she's so embarrassed and if she were to see his stupid, stupid face right now, she might just crumble. She might just melt. She might just completely fall in love.

He takes a step forward, a small one since he can't see where he's going. "Ash." His voice is muffled through the fabric.

"Stop it.." she says, covering her ears in defiance.

"I like you," he says.

"Shut up."

"Haha!"

She grabs his hoodie and pulls it down. He sees her face. Her eyes are down and her face is redder than her hair. She looks almost ashamed.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she says, frowning deeply.

"I don't either!" he says with a wide smile.

He takes her hand, and she lets him. She doesn't know why.

"I like you," he says again.

"I heard you the first time."

"Can you say it again, then?"

"No."

He laughs, his shoulders shaking from his own nervousness, but also his joy. "That's ok. Take your time."

#fanfic #sbg #school bus graveyard #oneshot #ashlyn banner #ashlyn sbg #aiden clark #aiden sbg #aiden x ashlyn #ashlyn x aiden #aidlyn

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royal-ruin · 8 months ago

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f1 fanfic recs charles/carlos (charlos) part 4

other f1 fic rec lists here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise

in honor of carlos' win in the ausgp and his appendix removal (and his last year at ferrari, ignore me sobbing in the background), here are some of my fav fics of them.

if all of them are starred that just means they're all amazing.

i'll make you laugh by venerat (~7k)

[“You are cute,” says Carlos, waving his marker in emphasis. “Obviously. I am always saying this.”

“I am not cute.” Charles blinks at him. “When are you saying I am cute?”]

literally so adorable.

*what we felt by venerat (~14k)

[Imprinted, Charles should say, shocked. I hope he is alright. He should say that.

“My god,” he says instead. “On who?”]

so creative and amazing. def check out this author for more of other pairings, i know they have a bunch of hot smutty one-shots if you're into that.

*sweet tea in the summer by bloodmoonforme (~10k)

[Sometimes, when they first arrive at the circuit for a weekend, Charles will look decidedly paler, a little drawn. Then, he'll show up for FP1 on Friday seemingly much better all of the sudden, eyes unnaturally bright and cheeks red - that's how to tell how long it has been since he last drank.

Not that Carlos notices. Or keeps track of it, for that matter.

Except he does.]

Or the one where Charles is a vampire and Carlos struggles.

i don't remember this unfortunately, but i do remember loving it.

*the actor says he hates himself by bloodmoonforme (~5k)

[“You okay, mate?” Carlos asks, pitching his voice a bit louder in order to be heard over the music.

Charles doesn’t answer. Slowly, Carlos realizes that the way Charles is staring is one that he recognizes. It’s the same way he looks while he’s out racing, the same one he wears in the simulator. It’s a look of total focus. There’s something Charles wants and means to have.]

tags say that there's cheating so if you don't like that, don't read.

*dice che ti ama (ma lo sai che mente) by choripan (~3k)

[But Charles smiled, dimples out and about, back against the wall of Carlos’ driver’s room. Like he knew he wasn’t in danger.

Like he hadn’t entered a lions’ den looking like a three course meal.

(Like he knew Carlos was all bark and no bite, and toying with the metaphorical rubber band —stretch, stretch, stretching—wouldn’t ever make it snap into his straight nose.)]

kinda like a carlos-focused relationship study. it lowkey altered my brain chemistry for some reason

punctuated all wrong by Cloudcollector (~8k)

Prompt: "I don’t know if someone else agrees with me but I’m a sucker for the whole person A falls in love with person B but they think they don’t deserve person B’s love trope and I’d love to see how it would play out with charlos (not saying who’s person A and who person B, even though that should be pretty obvious)"

*the trials of 2022 by chiliconcarlos (~34k)

A partial summary of the 2022 season, as told by Charles or Carlos, following each race.

Friday is Just the Beginning by nottonyharrison (~3k)

On a Thursday in December, Caco had come to him with a proposal. A PDF attached to an email, emblazoned with the garish red Netflix logo, and consisting of a three paragraph, succinct concept that involved winter training, the mountains, and Carlos timing his schedule to overlap with Charles’ for a week.

On a Friday in January, he’s sitting in a private sauna long after the cameras have been packed away for the night, with Charles right next to him.

this is basically plot w porn, with a lot of carlos inner monologue which i love so enjoy!

Don't Do This To Me by pastrnaks_sainz (~2k)

[Carlos hands shake as he stares at his phone screen. The email from Caco is displayed and the brightness is turned all the way up. Like he’s being taunted. The big bold letters in the subject line might as well be saying ‘NOBODY WANTS YOU’ instead of ‘New Opportunities Ahead’.]

fair warning, one of the tags is hurt no comfort.

Loose Lips Sink Ships by kxleida (~2k)

Carlos finds out he's leaving Ferrari. Charles finds him in his hotel room, beer bottles scattered all across. They both know it's not fair.

A bit of hurt/comfort surrounding Charles, Carlos, and the Ferrari announcement for the F1 2024 silly season.

this isn't everything you are by shadil (~2k)

The news hit him again where he least expects it.

a prayer for which no words exist by transbrucewayne (~3k)

Charles has to assume Carlos knows by now; they should’ve told him. He doesn’t know how long they took to tell Sebastian, but it had been almost inevitable for him. He walked into the 2020 season with an air of resignation. With Carlos…everyone thought he was going to get another year, at least. Charles thought he was going to get another year. Then, Carlos would move to Audi, to the surprise of approximately no one, and the two of them would part, and Charles would spend the rest of his career smiling at him across the room, fist bumping him in press conferences, and never touching him more than the others deemed appropriate.

i know better (but you're still around) by shadil (~2k)

Sometimes, Carlos dreams about María.

He was his (but also he was not) by f1amboyant (~2k)

[Charles crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you leaving?” he asked, no bullshit, staring straight at Carlos, peering into his soul.]

Shadowhunters AU

and the world was gone by Bluejay141519 (~12k)

It’s not entirely unfounded, having something like this happen. Charles knows of various stories of the past, where different drivers’ energies don’t mix well and it causes chaos. He’s even heard of magic being used to sabotage in F1.

Charles always thought these were just stories, until he got his seat.

tbh it's not completely relationship focused, but it's still amazing.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic rec #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #charles x carlos #carlos x charles #cl16 #cs55 #fic rec list

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notfreetoday · 1 year ago

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MPW Ep 4 Subtitle Correction

Masterlist: EP 1 || EP 2 || EP 3

We have another change in director this episode, to Yasumura Emi, though the script is still being written by Funabiki Shinju (the director for Ep 3). This week's twitter space didn't have much info, so I won't be including it.

M: いや～瀬ケ崎さん強かったわ～ M: あの物腰で*マウンティングされて M: いっそ快感を覚えてしまった M: No but, Segasaki-san('s presence) was really strong M: The way he *asserted (his relationship with Yoh) like that M: (rather than being upset), I felt even more delighted! *This is a (rather unfortunate) loan word from English - "mount" or "mounting" 😅, in this case, pretty much means to "one-up" someone else, or to brag about something to another. If you do not wish to have a weird mental image in your head, please skip the next paragraph. This word appears to have morphed from the observation that monkeys, when trying to move up a rank in the chain of command, tend to jump on the back of another to assert their dominance (not scientist just translator also low-quality source don't keel me plz). - In other words, if I watch the Jp RAW MPW a full 8 hours before everyone else and spazz about it knowing full well no one else understands what was said then I'd totally be moun--- AHEM (sorry 😂)

What I mean to say is, in this episode, Segasaki all but screams "MINE" in the most thinly veiled, polite manner possible, so let's see how he does that. If you read nothing at all, the last scene with them cuddling has an important correction you should skip to. Same translation disclaimer applies, Ep 4, let's go~!

(I see a lot of people saying some of their thoughts/suspicions were confirmed in the tags of the previous posts, so feel free to chip in with what you think! MPW deserves more discussion!)

Sorry I am incapable of summarizing, the post is crazy long and I've hit the 30 image max. As such, not every scene will be screen capped and I won't be transcribing the original subs anymore...

Y: あ、いや、友達の漫画を手伝いに行ってきます (-masu form) Y: Ah, no. I am going to help a friend with their manga.

Yoh shifts up a speech level here, (he started the episode out speaking casually) using the -masu form to make an announcement -he's trying to emphasize his determination to go because he’s nervous about saying it.

S: はあ？どういうつもりで S: Huh? For what intention?

The "haa?" here has a more "excuse me?" feel, and the next line is interrogative - so all in all it has the same energy as: "Excuse me? What is going through your head?"

S: つぅか友達って誰だよ Y: よく通話してる…あの S: やっぱりあの女か S: Actually, when you say "friend", who do you mean? Y: The one who… I speak to a lot on the phone… S: So, it’s that woman after all huh?

S: だめ Y: え？なんで？(plain form) S: 俺が家にいんだから家にいろ (word contraction)* Y: でも約束したし (plain form) S: あの女には行けなくなったって言え* S: No. Y: Huh? Why? S: I'm staying at home so you stay at home* Y: But, I already made a promise S: Tell that woman that you can’t go any more** *This line, together with the starred line below, is extremely direct, (said in the same style as his not-proposal actually) and is clearly an order. **This line is literally "to that woman, say 'I am no longer able to make it'" (Though the speaker may not actually mean to use those exact words)

Segasaki has dropped a speech level here not so much by using "rude" forms but by being extremely blunt and direct. What he's saying implies he's being possessive of Yoh, but the way he says it also stresses his power in their relationship. But again, note that Yoh's replies are all in plain form - he hasn't shifted up a level in response, as he usually does when addressed so directly. In fact, the way he words his protest carries some indignation - using "し(shi)" at the end like this indicates that this "promise" is but one of the reasons he has for going - which is why Segasaki cuts him off. Yoh might sulk and pout about being ordered, he's still comfortably seated in his usual informal speech level, which means at this point he's still feeling secure about where he stands and definitely isn't intimidated.

S: お前さ*、何で自分がこの家にいるかわかってんの？ S: You*… do you even know why you’re in this house? *Here Segasaki uses the sentence-end particle "さ(sa)" after the word "you", which in this case has the same feel as "now look here". He also ends off his question with "の(no)", which can have many meanings, but here functions again as an assertive particle, implying that this is a rhetorical question, because he thinks Yoh should know the answer. Unfortunately, Yoh has the wrong answer 😅 (which Segasaki will realize and attempt to address in Ep 5)

Y: この人のやばさ*を一瞬でも忘れていた俺がバカだった Y: I was an idiot - to forget, even for a second, how insane* this person is *やばさ (yabasa) - this word comes from "yabai" and is a slang word that has evolved much like the words "crazy/insane" and "shit" have evolved in English - it can be used both positively and negatively to describe someone who's extreme, for eg "that guy is yabai (so cool!!)" vs "that guy is yabai (stay away)". Here, Yoh's referring to Segasaki as yabai for even thinking up this so called "slave contract" - which is what he assumes Segasaki is referring to.

Y: ごめん、いろいろあって Y: あ、いや、まあ、なんていうか、家にいろって言われ Y: あ、いや、なんでもない。とにかく本当にごめん Y: 今度なんかでお返しするから Y: Sorry, a lot happened Y: Ah, no, well, how do I say this... I was told "stay at home" Y: Ah, no, it's nothing. Anyway, I'm really sorry Y: I'll make it up to you next time, okay?

S: よくできました S: Well done. This is the same phrase we talked about in Ep 3, the stamp of approval. Again, Segasaki is emphasizing his role in relation to Yoh here.

Y: あの満足そうな後ろ姿 Y: 本当腹立つわ Y: That silhouette of his, so full of satisfaction as he leaves, Y: Really makes me irritated!* *Yoh ends off with the particle "わ (wa)", which mostly just emphasizes his emotion, but is a softer assertive particle than the ones Segasaki uses.

S: 夕飯、作ってくれてもいいんだぞ Y: はい Y: 俺はいつでも稼働する家事ロボットじゃねぇんだよ S: Dinner - it's fine for you to make it for me, you know Y: Yes Y: I'm not some housework robot that you can just activate at any time you know! The original subs made it sound like Segasaki was asking Yoh if he could make dinner, but that's not the case - he's literally telling Yoh to make it, and on top of that, he says it like he's doing Yoh a favour (by allowing him to make dinner) 🤣🤣 This time though, whether it's just cause Yoh's been caught by surprise or not, he answers properly with "Yes (Hai)".

Y: いっそロボットになってこの感情を無にしたい Y: (If it was going to be like this), I rather just become a robot, and turn these feelings into nothingness.

The focus of this line is mostly on Yoh preferring to become a robot in order to mute his feelings, but the sentence structure suggests that there is something to be inferred preceding this sentence, hence the bracketed bit. (It becomes clearer later on, especially in light of his monologue)

"Dayo-chan" is a pretty familiar nickname, something you'd expect a child to be called rather than an adult, unless it is a nickname between childhood friends. It implies a closeness/intimacy between the speaker/listener, hence the the look of horror on Yoh’s face (because he knows that is going to kick Segasaki into high gear) and the surprised disbelief (that someone would dare make a grab for Yoh) on Segasaki’s face. Kills me everytime 🤣

S: もしかして例の女か S: 家まで押し掛けるとはいい度胸してんな S: Don't tell me it's that woman from earlier? S: She's got some nerve, turning up at the house like this

Y: それはだめ　それだけは絶対だめ Y: No, not that, anything but that!

S: うれしいな　葉がいつもあなたの話をするので S: 一度お会いしてみたいと思っていたんです S: はじめまして、瀬ケ崎瑞貴といいます S: 葉がいつも　お世話になってます S: What a delight, Yoh speaks of you often so S: I've always thought it would be nice to be able to meet you. S: I'm Segasaki Mizuki, pleased to make your acquaintance. S: Thank you for always taking care of Yoh.

This is like, textbook formalities🤣 Practically every statement is a "standard" greeting and is very polite (hence the weirdly stiff english translation) except Segasaki says it in a way that makes it clear he speaks for Yoh, that Yoh is part of his in-group. (Legit, might as well plant a flag in the soil that says "Yoh is mine".) He sounds exactly like how parents sound when they meet their child's teachers, or how a spouse/older family member might sound when meeting their loved ones' co-workers. This is how it comes across: What a delight, Yoh speaks of you often so I've always thought it would be nice to be able to meet you - Sounds distinctly familial. Implies Segasaki is close enough to Yoh that Yoh shares his thoughts with him often. Also shows that Yoh tells Segasaki about Man-san, rather than the other way round. I'm Segasaki Mizuki, pleased to make your acquaintance. - standard, formal greeting Thank you for always taking care of Yoh. - standard greeting, literally "Yoh is always in your care" - You usually say this (for yourself) when you thank your teacher/senior/boss/important client. So, when you say this for someone else, you are claiming this person as your family, or someone in your in-group (a close friend, or at work, a junior).

S: すみません　今朝　葉が体調をくずしてしまって S: 家でゆっくり休んだ方がいいんじゃないかって S: 僕が言い聞かせたん*です S: ご迷惑をおかけしてしまってしまってすみませんでした S: I apologize, this morning, Yoh wasn't feeling well so S: I convinced* him (not to go) saying, S: "wouldn't it be better to stay at home and rest properly?" S: I sincerely apologize for the trouble this has caused you. * 言い聞かせる (translated as convinced here) this word is usually used when someone of higher standing tells/explains something to a person of a lower standing, and carries the nuance that they've managed to get the latter to accept/agree with what they say. It can also be translated as "told/persuaded/instructed/warned/admonished", and used in sentences like "I warned the kids not to run" or "The teacher told the students lying was wrong" - so that might give you a better idea of what Segasaki is implying here. I've used "convinced" here rather than "instruct" because Segasaki is, in general, speaking very tactfully to Man-san - but his meaning is still clear to anyone paying attention - Segasaki has a big enough role in Yoh's life that he not only can apologize on behalf of Yoh for not being able to fulfill the promise to Man-san, he also has a big enough say that Yoh will listen to his decisions.

M: いや、あんたがダヨの体調不良を詫びるんか M: むっちゃ身内��*するやん M: Wait, you are apologizing for Yoh being unwell (and unable to come help)? M: Isn't that a super intimate* (gesture)? *身内面する is literally "to show one's inner-circle face/side", ie the side of you that you show to your inner-circle/in-group ie your family. Hence this line reads more like "Wait, you're apologizing for Yoh?? Who are you, his family??"

Because of the emphasis on group identity in Japan, it's very common to apologize/take responsibility for the actions of another group-member, even if you had nothing to do with it. So here, Man-san has picked up on what Segasaki has been implying since the beginning - that Yoh is part of his in-group, and a very close one at that.

S: お茶目な方なんですね S: You've got such a sweet and funny personality, don't you? The word Segasaki uses here describes a person who tends to be naturally sweet and lovable, maybe a little silly but without any ulterior motive. It's a compliment in most situations - which is why Man-san gets all embarrassed - but can sometimes come across as slightly patronizing, like how calling someone "naive" can. Note that Segasaki is still being very polite here and effectively holding Man-san at arm's length, despite the seemingly friendly/open dialogue.

S: だから　そう言っていただけると　うれしいです S: So, to hear such nice words from you, makes me really glad.

S: ところで　可奈美さんはどこで　葉と　お知り合いに？ S: By the way, how did Kanami-san come to be friends with Yoh?

The whole dialogue where Segasaki responds to Man-san's fangirling basically sounds like how an idol would speak to their fans - it's very polite and uses deferential/humble verb forms to further indicate gratitude for the support, because Segasaki is answering Man-san in the context of his work. When he asks about Yoh, he switches back down to a normal speech level, but also uses her first name - Kanami-san, which whilst very charming, is totally NOT normal (with the sparkle effect and the wine, I can't help but get host club vibes from this lmao) because you only do that with people you are close to. Man-san is obviously flustered by this, and Yoh is understandably unhappy about the sudden familiarity Segasaki displays with Man-san (I personally think he's still trying to be disarmingly charming whilst he evaluates just how big a threat Man-san is🤣🤣)

S: ずいぶん飲んでると思ったら S: I thought he'd been drinking quite a bit

Again, this implies that Segasaki knows Yoh well enough to know his alcohol tolerance.

S: 寝るなら部屋いきな* S: If you're going to sleep, then go to the room alright? *いきな (ikina) - the "na" here is different from the sentence-final particle "na" we saw in Ep 3. This is short for "nasai", as in, "ikinasai", which is a polite but sharp way to say "please go (somewhere)". This sort of wording is most commonly used by parents towards young children when giving instructions like "please sit properly" or "please eat your food quietly". It's used between teachers/students, seniors/juniors etc, and sometimes amongst friends too. You absolutely should not use it with someone above you in the social hierarchy. The short version used here though, softens the tone a lot, and adds a very tender, homely feel to the sentence. Segasaki is literally coaxing Yoh to bed as a parent would a very young, sleepy but reluctant child.

M: 本当に恋人なんだなって感じです M: ようやく現実味が M: "(You two) are really a couple!" - that's the kind of feeling I get M: It's like it finally feels real

The way Segasaki literally puffs up with pride and hugs Yoh closer... (ಥ◡ಥ)

M: ダヨちゃんって彼氏の前だと　こんな甘えた*になるんですね M: なんかちょっと意外か�� S: いやお酒様様ですね S: ふだんはそっけないですよ M: So Dayo-chan actually becomes so cute and affectionate* in front of his boyfriend M: I kind of didn't expect that, I think S: No, it's really all thanks to the sake S: Normally he's pretty indifferent *甘えた (amaeta) is the kansai dialect version of 甘える (amaeru), referring to the concept of amae.

Amae is a rather complex thing to explain in English and really deserves its own post. For simplicity's sake, what Man-san means here is that she's surprised that Yoh is actually able to express his desire to be treated affectionately and indulged in - something that requires a lot of trust in Segasaki and a willingness to be vulnerable in front of him.

M: おぉ、確かに。ダヨちゃん素直*じゃないからな M: あまのじゃく**っていうか　まあそういうとこあると　困っちゃいますよね M: Ohh, that's true. Cause Dayo-chan isn't able to be honest* with his feelings M: "Contrary"** is not really (the word to use) but... he does have a bit of that in him so.... (dealing with that) can be a bit of a handful don't you think? The way Man-san phrases her last line implies that she also has to deal with this side of Yoh, and by ending off with the particle "~ne", she is seeking Segasaki's agreement that they are both sort of in the same boat when it comes to that (she doesn't do this consciously though, which is why she freaks and apologizes later) *素直 (sunao - translated as honest here) is another term you'll often see when talking about feelings/relationships, and is also somewhat of a complex topic with many different possible translations, depending on context. It is closely related to amae, because in order to express your desire to be indulged or to receive affection, you first need to be able to admit to yourself that you want that.

**あまのじゃく (amanojaku - translated as contrary here) - this is a small demon from Japanese folklore, who was of an extremely contrary nature and would often mimic both humans and gods. It had the ability to see into one's heart and would then do the exact opposite of what one desired. Thus, this term is now used to describe people who intentionally go against the wishes of others, who are stubborn/unable to admit when they are wrong, or who twist themselves into a pickle/cannot be truthful about how they feel. It's not used in a complimentary way, which is why Man-san says Yoh's not quite like that, but there are some parts of him that do sort of fit the description.

S: やだな*　葉の素直になれないその不器用さが　余計にかわいいんじゃないですか S: ね？ S: That's not nice*... Yoh's inability to be truthful about his feelings - it's precisely that awkwardness that makes him even more adorable, isn't it? S: Wouldn't you say so? *Segasaki's first line "やだな (yada na - literally "this is unpleasant/I don't like that")" is not directed at Man-san, it's a form of soliloquy (which is common in Japanese), aka he's talking to himself here. We know this because it's informal and ends with the emphatic particle "~na". He then switches back to polite speech for the rest of his sentence, which is directed at Man-san. So, "that's not nice" is actually him remarking on the unpleasantness he feels after hearing Man-san describe Yoh as contrary, just as you might walk past a pile of rubbish on the street and remark, "well that's unsightly". Of course, the fact that he's actually saying this at a volume that Man-san can definitely hear and the way he sort of drawls it out, makes it clear that he definitely meant for her to know his disapproval behind the politeness of his following sentence (See what I mean by "thinly veiled politeness"?). On top of this, ending it off with a "ne?" (the same ending particle she used to seek his agreement) as he looks up right at her makes it clear - this whole sentence is a (mild) rebuke.

M: 分かったような口を利いてすんませんっした S: どうされました？ M: では私そろそろおいとまします M: I'm incredibly sorry! I spoke as if I knew everything (when in fact I knew nothing) S: What's the matter? M: Then, it is about time for me to take my leave. In response, Man-san ratches up the formal speech in both these sentences, though (as befitting her character) she pronounces it in a rather comical way (she sounds and acts like a samurai would in the movies 🤣). Also, don't mistake Segasaki's "what's the matter" as true confusion - his indirect rebuke was met with a direct (albeit over the top) apology - so here he is helping Man-san to save face, or recover the face she lost (by sounding presumptuous and by apologizing), by not calling attention to the actual apology. It is enough that she has recognized his superiority over her when it comes to understanding Yoh. This is also why later, when Man-san voluntarily offers up the information that she has a husband (and thus is not a threat to Segasaki's claim over Yoh), that Segasaki gives sort of an embarrassed but happy smile as he says "I'm sorry". That's not just "I'm sorry I can't send you to the station" (which is basic manners) but also has a little "I'm sorry for the unnecessary posturing over Yoh".

S: なんださっきから　やだ　ばっか言って S: お前はイヤイヤ期*か S: What's gotten into you? All you've been saying since just now is "no" S: Are you in your "no phase"*? *イヤイヤ期 - yes, the term he uses here specifically refers to the "no phase" of toddlers in their terrible twos. This isn't condescending though - Yoh's repeated "やだ (yada - "no" or "I don't want it")" is distinctly childlike, but this behaviour is precisely a form of amae that we talked about earlier. Yoh is asking to be indulged here, and Segasaki is responding both in word and in physical comfort.

Y: もうやだ S: だから何が Y: 俺　万さんのことすきなのに S: は？てめぇ* Y: あんたなんか嫌いだ Y: へらへらしてんじゃねぇよ Y: 何　ちゃっかり横に座ってんだよ Y: 名前で呼ぶ必要はねぇだろう Y: ふざけんな Y: 俺のこと好きなくせに Y: I don't want (this) anymore! S: So again I ask, (don't want) what? Y: I... even whilst... liking Man-san S: Ha? You little...* Y: I hate the likes of you Y: Don't freaking sit there laughing so carelessly Y: What were you doing taking the chance to sit next to her like that Y: There was no damn need to call her by her first name, right? Y: The hell are you doing! Y: When the person you like is me. When You talks about liking Man-san, he ends off with "なのに (nanoni)" which is used to show contrast the preceeding/following topic and to express frustration - except he hasn't mentioned the preceeding topic, so it isn't immediately clear what he means until he starts complaining about Segasaki's behaviour. That's why Segasaki is caught by surprise and follows up with an angry "haa?" and an emphatic *てめぇ(temee) - A very very rude way to say "you" which he first used in Ep 2 when Yoh said he was going to leave. It's not until later in Yoh's monologue, that we learn that he's upset that he feels jealousy/bad feelings towards Man-san because he's supposed to like Man-san (as a friend).

S: お前　お前それやだったんか S: お前の方が*　そう思ってたんかよ S: あ　もう最っ高 S: You... so that was what you didn't want? S: So, (all this time) it was actually you instead, who's been thinking like that? S: Oh, this is the. best.

S: よしよし S: 取られちゃって　やだったな S: There, there S: You didn't want me to be stolen away, did you?

Monologue time: Y: こんなふうに感じること自体が嫌だったんだ万さん相手に　友達なのに女々しすぎるって幼稚だろう　ダメだろうって　分かってるのに気付いたら頭ん中　ぐちゃぐちゃでどうしようもなくなってたあんたのせいだこんなふうに囁いたり微笑んだり優しく触れたりするからいつもあんな偉そうにああだ　こうだ命令してくるくせに突然まるで恋人*みたいに勘違いするだろこんなのもしかして好きってこんなみっともない気持ちのことなのか Y: The fact that I was feeling this way was specifically what I didn't like. (Feeling this way) towards Man-san, even though she's my friend... It was too petty (of me). Even though I knew, that it was childish, that I shouldn't (feel that way), Before I knew it, everything in my head was all messed up. And then I couldn't do anything about it. It's all your fault, Because you do things like this, Whispering softly to me, Smiling at me, And touching me so gently. Always so arrogantly ordering me around, Saying do this do that, and yet, You suddenly (start treating me) like a lover* Of course, I'd get the wrong idea with all of that! Could it be that, "Liking someone", Really is a feeling as unseemly and disgraceful as this? *恋人 (koibito - lover) - Lover in English can sometimes imply a more sexual than romantic relationship, but in Japanese "koibito" usually refers to "boyfriend/girlfriend" and may not imply a sexual component at all.

S: お前から抱きつくとかできんだな S: ずっと酔ってりゃいいのに S: So you actually can initiate hugs and stuff huh? S: If only you could stay drunk forever...

And we're done!! Ep 4 marks the turning point where Yoh begins the journey towards accepting and acknowledging his feelings - the concept of "sunao". It also clearly shows the preferred way these two reinforce their relationship - through "amae". Remember how in Ep 3, Yoh talked about how he felt that an "unspoken understanding" of each other's feelings was important in a relationship? Well, this is it - Yoh saying "no" and "don't want", or leaving the room to be by himself - these are all examples of amae. He doesn't want to ask for affection directly, because he can't. So he does it through amae instead, and as we can see, Segasaki really enjoys indulging in Yoh's unspoken requests for affection and gains fulfillment from that.

#my personal weatherman #taikan yohou #体感予報 #MPW subtitle corrections #mytranslations #segasaki x yoh #amae is a very important aspect of building connection in japanese relationships #as is the concept of sunao #these aren't concepts with easy direct translations to english #but they feature very heavily in this relationship #if you felt a little weirded out because their relationship sometimes can feel somewhat parental in nature #it's because the interdependence that results from amae is fundamentally different from the independence that is prized in the west

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