#why can’t More Girls think I’m hot instead of just men who are at least 4 years old than me. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedriscroquettes · 1 year ago

Text

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. PEDRI

summary. you’d always claimed pedri as yours while he always found you as a disturbance to his life. here’s the timeline of your relationship.

warnings. angst, fluff, asshole!pedri, kind of annoying reader(?), virginity mentions, and a love triangle?

a/n. this goes out to all the delusional girlies like me. gif by pedripics

september 2007

the look of horror on your teacher’s face contrasted your calm demeanor. you thought she was overreacting when in truth she was not. you were too calm for what had just happened to you. doña rosy’s son had just cut off a huge chunk of your hair and was currently running around the class displaying it like a prize. the fact that you weren’t as upset as you should’ve been shocked your teacher.

the reality of it is that you thought pedro was cute and somehow instead of crying about your loss of hair you were rather flattered about it. you were quite literally insane for thinking that somehow this demonstrated that pedro liked you. at least that’s what your older cousin would say.

“boys are mean because they like you.” her words echoed in your mind.

soon the two of you along with your parents and pedro’s older brother fer were in the principals office. your mother was in shock and couldn’t believe that you’d have to start your hair growth process all over again. meanwhile, pedro’s mom was full of embarrassment and of course both father’s couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of them. after all you were both just kids who didn’t know better.

“well it seems your daughter isn’t too upset about the events that occurred therefore i have no reason to suspend pedro.” the principal decided.

“what? he cut off a chunk of my daughters hair! it will take months for it to grow back! surely there’s got to be some form of punishment for him?” your mother yelled.

“but mom i’m not mad at him.” you tried to tell her but she wouldn’t listen to you.

“fine. pedro is designated table cleaner after lunch for the rest of the month and no recess for a week.” the principal sighed.

“but mrs. dominguez we play football during recess hour i can’t miss it!” pedro whined.

“you should’ve thought about that before chasing your classmate with scissors and almost leaving her hairless.” she scolded him.

on the way out of mrs. dominguez’s office pedro’s parents couldn’t stop apologizing for what he had done. meanwhile, all you could do was stare at him. he was the cutest boy you had ever seen, given that you were only six and didn’t know any better obviously. it didn’t take long for him to notice your glare and he began to approach you slowly. you lifted your shoulders thinking this was finally going to be the moment he declared his undying love for you like men did in the movies. you stood there stupidly with a smile plastered on your face.

“i should’ve cut off the other side of your hair if i knew you’d stop me from playing football. i hate you.” he told you before chasing after his older brother.

any other girl would’ve started crying, well more like any other smart girl. they would’ve realized he meant what he said but not you. you simply thought he was bluffing that he still wasn’t ready to confess his feelings. so, you simply brushed it off and picked up your book bag. you couldn’t wait for saturday, the day your family always went to his parents restaurant to have dinner. maybe he’d confess then.

october 2013

the humid hot air of the island almost made you turn around and go back home but your foolishness made you continue your walk. it took you almost fifteen minutes to make it to the local football field but alas you had arrived on time for kickoff. you sat next to fer, someone you had somehow gotten close with the last few years. it also helped that he was pedro’s brother and allowed for you to be close to him.

“why are you here?” fer turned around to face you.

“geez, didn’t know i was such a bother to you.” you joked.

“oh, come on! i like you my brother hates you which is why i’m so surprised as to why you’re here.” he looks back onto the field spotting his brother.

“pedro doesn’t hate me he’s just too scared to confess his feelings for me.” you playfully hit fer on the shoulder.

“yeah, okay. just don’t give him too many children i don’t want to take care of too many kids in the future.” he jokes.

the both of you chat for a bit catching up on your day to day when all of a sudden the ball hits the back of the net and the local crowd, which consists purely of parents and siblings, goes wild. you notice it’s pedro who has scored as he starts running towards the area you and fer are located and blows a kiss to the crowd. like the delusional girl you are you pretend it’s meant for you. no, you know it is because you’re still stuck on the idea that pedro is devotedly in love with you.

the referee blows the whistle and tegueste takes the win with a score of 4-1. you immediately follow fer onto the pitch to congratulate his younger brother and find him chatting with his teammates. pedro immediately goes up to his brother and starts thanking him for coming as their parents couldn’t since it was a busy night at the restaurant. you get ready to tell him how well he played but as soon as he sees you he walks away.

you’re supposed to be embarrassed but somehow you think he’s the one who is. you think that he’s too nervous to be around you and that’s why he left so suddenly. you’re about to walk back home when one of his teammates stops you.

“hey!” he seems excited to talk to you.

“hi.” you greet him back.

“i’m xabi, does your brother play here?” he asks curiously.

“uh no. my friend does. pedro.” you explain.

“oh! pedro! he’s great! he’s going to be good i think. do you go to-” he’s interrupted by pedro himself.

pedro is too quick and silent you don’t even notice that he’s been sneaking up on you until he’s standing right in front of you. he’s staring at you with a devious smile on his face and you wish you knew what he was thinking.

“you know what we usually do after a win?” pedro asks you.

“we grab the buck-” xabi is once again interrupted.

“shut up xabi.” pedro turns around to shut xabi up.

“we usually grab the bucket of water and pour it on all the scorers but today i proposed that we do something differently. i think you were our lucky charm and that’s why we should pour it on you.” his smile somehow grows wider.

you’re flattered at first but then realization hits you. the dress you’re wearing is too cute to end up drenched. most importantly you didn’t want to get sick. your smile falters when you see his teammates approaching you with the large bucket of ice cold water.

“no, pedro please.” you beg.

he tries to hold you still but your instincts kick in and you immediately kick his ankle. he lets go and you immediately start running. you don’t realize it but he starts chasing after you. you’re about to cross the street when he grabs you from behind and pushes you against the wall. he has a smirk on his face again. you panic not wanting to get soaked. you try to kick him again but this time he doesn’t budge and you’re about to give up when suddenly an idea pops up in your mind.

you grab his cheeks and kiss him.

“what?” he’s confused.

you can’t help but smile at the way his cheeks turn pink but you don’t have a lot of time so as soon as his grip on you loose a you take a run for it. you arrive home exhausted and out of breath. you dramatically fall on your bed with a smile on your face excited that at your wedding you’ll be able to tell all your guests about today.

november 2019

it had been around a year since pedri, as they now called him, left the island in pursuit of a football career. it had also been six months since you gave up on the relationship you had hoped to have with him and it had been approximately three weeks since you had started seeing xabi. something you would’ve only thought would happen if pedri had stopped existing. fer told you to be more optimistic about xabi and that he actually liked you because he would’ve never pranked called the local pizzeria and sent forty pizzas to your house.

the three of you were currently gathered at the beach alongside some of pedri’s friends patiently waiting for him. fer had told you that he would be staying for a week before going back to preseason with las palmas. being the kind person you were you had organized a welcome back party for him with the help of fer. you’d paid for the food, drinks, and the cake that would be delivered later that night.

fer watched you carefully decorate one of the wooden tables with all the snacks and drinks. it was so obvious you still cared about his brother and it somehow made him mad that his brother never reciprocated your feelings. even though pedri didn’t owe it to you to feel the same way it just made him mad that he had always treated you bad for no reason. you had never done anything wrong to pedri prior to his teasing so fer always wondered where his brother’s hatred for you came from.

fer doesn’t have much time to wonder about his brother because said person was already making his way towards him. he’s about to run towards him when he notices somebody else behind him, a girl. he quickly turns around to look for you but you’re too distracted with making sure everything looks nice that you don’t notice pedri or the girl with him. it’s not until everyone starts greeting him that you notice his presence. you don’t expect him to talk to you so you stay back with xabi and that’s when you notice the girl next to him.

you’re surprised at yourself for feeling jealous and hurt because you thought you had finally moved on from your stupid childhood crush. xabi’s arm wraps around your waist at the sight of pedri as if the midfielder’s presence threatened him. you turn around facing the beach not wanting to see pedri and his girlfriend, you assumed that’s who she was. you’re too entranced by the waves to see the look he sends your way and more specifically the way he glared at xabi’s arm around your waist.

who did he think he was? just because he was named after one of the greatest spanish players of all time he was some hotshot? pedri mentally scoffs at the fact that his old teammate had finally been able to ask you out. he had practically drooled over year since the first time you showed up to his games. he grabs alba’s hand in spite. alba was just his friend but felt the urge to rub her in front of your face. he didn’t know why he felt so mad at seeing you with xabi or why he was also upset that you weren’t looking at him in admiration anymore.

“xabi! it’s been so long.” he greets your boyfriend.

you can smell his cologne, the one fer had bought for him last minute when he had visited his younger brother in las palmas. it was intoxicating. you finally turn around to face him and it’s like primary school all over again. you mentally slap yourself for still feeling flustered around him especially after all the damage he’d done to you. the girl he brought offers you a smile and you can only giver her a weak one back not knowing how to feel. xabi treated you so well yet he wasn’t pedri.

as soon as he’s done speaking with your boyfriend he walks away as expected. you don’t feel embarrassed nor angry anymore but rather relieved you don’t have to face the feelings you thought you didn’t have anymore. you took a step back fixing your skirt and making sure your appearance was okay. xabi notices how you fidget. he always does. he notices the smallest things and you hate that you can’t reciprocate how he feels to the max.

“he’s an asshole.” he whispers making sure the two of you are the only ones who hear.

“xabi, come on.” you whine not wanting anything to break out tonight.

“what? it’s true! he’s treated you like shit since we were kids and he still does it now. he didn’t even say hi to you when you planned this whole thing.” your boyfriend claims.

he’s right but you’d never stop making up excuses for the man you’d probably love for the rest of your life.

“i mean i did annoy him every single day of his life until he left. he doesn’t owe me anything.” you replied.

“yeah, you were like 10 with a little girl crush on him so it doesn’t give him the right to act like that. he should just tell you that he doesn’t like you and leave it at that. he probably doesn’t even know that you help out doña rosy at the restaurant, or that you helped fer with his exams, or that you had convinced the principal to not take away his recess time to play football! it’s not fair to you!” xabi exclaims.

“you’re right but i just don’t want to fight him. not today. so promise me you won’t start anything?” you beg him.

he scoffs but then offers you a weak smile himself.

“yeah, okay but if he pulls some messed up shit tonight i can’t promise i won’t beat him up.” you both laugh at his words.

the two of you are unaware that you’re being watched by said asshole and that he’s gripping his cup to the point that the sofa starts dripping out of it. he starts looking for his brother leaving alba alone. in fact he completely forgets about alba when he can only notice how infatuated you are by xabi. what did xabi have that he didn’t? besides compassion and kindness since pedri clearly had the looks.

“when did they start dating?” is the first thing he asks his brother.

“wow, not even a i missed you or how have you been?” his brother scoffs.

“i missed you so much.” pedri pretends to care. “now answer my question.”

“why does it matter? you hate her?” fer continues to pour himself a drink oblivious to the fact that his younger brother is completely losing it.

“so? doesn’t mean i can’t ask about her?” pedri scoffs. “plus, look at him he’s such a loser. she could do better i guess.”

“better like who? you? please, don’t make me laugh. you’ve treated her like shit your entire life just because you knew how madly in love she is with you and now you’re interested? now, that’s she moved on with someone who cares about her? she is doing better. now go attend the guest you brought. it’s bad manners to leave her alone.” fer taunts his younger brother.

“fuck you.” pedri was always determined on having the last word.

on the way back towards alba an idea forms in his mind. it doesn’t take long for him to get everyone together. he brings an empty bottle and places it in the middle of the circle everyone had formed. the midfielder had decided to play spin the bottle with his old friends.

“so, here are the rules!” he speaks up. “when it’s your turn you spin the bottle and you get to ask them truth or dare. but if you ask a stupid question for truth i’ll skip your turn. now, who wants to go first?”

the game starts out light and fun but as the game goes on it becomes more intense and interesting. fer had somehow ended up skinny dipping with the girl next to him and an old friend of yours had confessed that she was the one who gave your old principal food poisoning with the cupcakes she had made. before you know it, it’s pedri’s turn. you stare at the bottle intently hoping it doesn’t land on you but as if the universe heard you it lands on you. the smirk he has on his face reminds you of the one who always had when he was about to do something to you.

“truth or dare?” he asks.

“truth.” you decided to go for the lighter option.

“is it true that you lost your virginity to xabi?” his first question takes you by surprise.

“what the fuck pedri?” xabi yells at him.

“shut up xabi and let her answer.” pedri glares at him.

“i don’t understand why that’s any of your concern-” you start.

“just answer the question and we’ll move on.” he urges.

“no.” you reply simply wanting to get this over with and go home.

fer is about to spin the bottle before pedri stops him. he looks back at you with a sly grin. your stomach churns and you start getting a bad feeling.

“wait, i’m not done. is it also true that you’ve had a crush on me since you were five and thought we would end up together even though i find you repulsive?” pedri started ranting.

you feel everyone’s eyes on you and soon you feel your eyes brim with tears. you don’t know why he’s suddenly putting you on the spot when you hadn’t spoken to him in a year. you’d thought he would’ve left you alone now that you were with xabi.

“well, don’t be shy now. come on? do you think about me when xabi kisses you or touc-” you don’t let him finish because you slap him, hard.

“maybe i was a pathetic little girl then who had no self respect but i do now so don’t ever talk to me like that again. i don’t care if you’re a future football star or the future prince of spain you have no right to speak to me like that. go to hell pedro.” you pick up your things getting ready to leave.

you take out thirty euros and hand them to fer.

“for the cake delivery. he should be here at 9.” is the last thing you say before you walk away with xabi closely following behind.

“what the fuck is your problem? did you just come back here to say all that bullshit to her?” fer confronts his younger brother.

“she shouldn’t have been here in the first place. she’s like a parasite.” pedri scoffs.

“without her i wouldn’t have planned this! she paid for everything and spent the whole day decorating this for you! she helps mom and dad out at the restaurant now that we get tourists there almost everyday. she helped me pass my exams and most importantly all those gifts i gave you when i visited where picked out by her. so, go to hell. i don’t wanna see you for the rest of the night so go home.” fer let’s him know.

pedri stands there in shock not knowing what to say. suddenly he feels horrible but he doesn’t want everyone else to notice so he picks up his shoulders ready to go home.

“oh and stay away from her. she finally found someone who cares about her and i don’t need your jealousy ruining that. xabi is going to play for girona next year and he’ll take care of her. i don’t need you fucking up anything else.” is the last thing his brother tells him.

you wake up to loud knocks on your door. you notice xabi isn’t next to you anymore meaning he’d probably left for training already. you yawn before slowly making your way towards the door. you don’t even check before opening the door something you regret when you see who’s on the other side. it’s pedri but now he’s rocking a black eye.

“your boyfriend paid me a visit last night.” is the first thing he says to you.

“shame.” you reply.

“huh?” he questions

“shame he didn’t get the other one as well.” you cross your arms.

“okay, i deserve that.”

“look pedri you have five minutes to tell me why you’re here before i call your parents and tell them you’re harassing me.” you say.

“i came to apologize. i was out of line last night and i fucked up. in truth i think i realized that i was jealo-”

“don’t pedri. you’ve had twelve years to tell me that you liked me or had a crush on me and instead you spent every single one of those humiliating me. maybe i was annoying but i have never disrespected you. now, leave. i’m happy with xabi and you’re not going to ruin that.” you interrupt him.

“but-”

“leave. we were never meant to happen. xabi is my person and i hope you find yours. hopefully someone nice and not full of hatred like you.” you slammed the door closed in front of him.

that day you call in sick for work and the day after that and so on until you heard news that pedri had gone back. his parents didn’t even question your absence after fer had told them what happened. you cried the first two days and then spent the next few days with xabi. in the span of those days he had asked you to move with him to girona and you didn’t even hesitate before accepting. maybe if you moved you’d loose all memories of the brown eyed boy you had once worshipped.

present day

the adjustment to barcelona wasn’t hard. the few years you were in girona were enough to learn catalan easily so you could communicate with almost anyone. the only problem was getting used to your new job at fc barcelona as a physical therapist. most of the players at girona barely stopped by opting to have surgery and recovering with their own staff. but at barça it was different, you were always busy with injured players as well as recovering players.

xabi and you had parted ways roughly six months ago when he transferred to roma. you couldn’t make the move not wanting to be too far from your home and you were surprised that he understood and took it likely. it was a rough breakup but not because he treated you bad or anything but because he had cared so much and now you felt alone. like you were missing your best friend.

you had stopped keeping up with pedri so you had no idea where he was now and had even stopped talking to fer to which he understood why. he wasn’t mad but he was upset that your friendship had failed because of his asshole brother. alas you shake your thoughts away when a knock on your office door interrupts you.

“come in!” you pick up the file that had been dropped off earlier about the player you’d be seeing today.

the door opens but you’re too engrossed by the files to notice who it is. you’re halfway into the summary of his injury until you notice you don’t even know who you’re treating. when you see the name up top your mind goes blank. you almost walk out the door at the sight of pedro’s name. you spend a few minutes panicking before remembering you’re being paid to be a professional so you gently get back into that mindset and set the file down.

“so the process of your recovery will include-”

“so, you’re just going to pretend that we don’t know each other?” pedri asks you.

“for the remainder of the time that i will work here? yes. now shut up and let me explain how your recovery process will go if you want to play again this season.” you scold him.

he just scoffs and shuts up.

“i assume the medical staff has already told you that you need to apply ice packs to the injured area several times a day as well as taking pain medicine?” you ask him.

“yeah.” he replies staring at the roof wanting to avoid your glare.

“okay so, as part of the healing process i’ll advise you certain gentle hamstring stretches to strengthen you and when the pain begins to subside we’ll move on to harder strengthening exercises. we’ll start working on them on tuesday. i believe that’s all so unless you have any other muscular issues or problems please let me know now.” you reply as stiffly as possible.

“are you and xabi still dating? i mean i assume you’re not or else you’d be in roma. unless you’re doing long distance but i doubt it, it never works out. he’s probably cheated on you by now.” pedri simply starts blabbering nonsense.

“don’t really understand why any of that concerns you.” you turn around to type up his file to the database.

“because you’re too good for him and quite frankly i don’t think you should be with him.” he stands near your desk.

“who should i be with? the asshole that let everyone back home know i was a virgin? don’t make me laugh pedro.” you look up at him to meet that same mischievous smirk from twelve years ago.

“i’ve changed.” he admits.

“good for you pedro. there are plenty of other people in the sea that you could go after. unfortunately for you i’m not one of them. so please be professional and leave me alone. i have to see gavi in an hour so i have to get ready for that.” you urge him to leave.

“please, gavi isn’t even in need of physical therapy he just thinks you’re cute.” pedri laughs.

“like you? at least he’s professional and doesn’t throw soup all over me when i approach him for lunch.” you give him a smile.

pedri steps back realizing how much of a bad person he had been to you. he couldn’t even remember all the things you were accusing him of. he suddenly feels bad for that night at the beach where he had humiliated you in front of everyone just because he thought you were too good for xabi. when in reality he was perfect for you.

“look i’m really sorry for what i did to you. for all of it. i’m not the same person i was at the beach four years ago. and you don’t owe me anything but i’d really like to take you out to dinner and make it up to you.” he begs.

“pedri, you constantly made me feel insecure about myself, humiliated me, made me wear a bob cut so short i might as well have gone bald, and bullied me for my whole childhood so a simple i’m sorry isn’t going to cut it. now, get out of my office please.” you point towards the door.

pedri simply sighs in defeat before making his way out of your office. but he doesn’t give up because as soon as your sessions with him start you’re met with flowers on your desk, links to random memes he finds on the internet, and invitations to all the fancy and expensive restaurants in the vicinity. although what finally makes you give in are the coldplay tickets he offers you.

“what the fuck, pedri?” you jump up at the envelope on your desk. “i can’t possibly accept these? they’re like the best seats as well? oh my god.”

“yes, you can and you will. my recovering process is going much faster than expected because of you and you always mentioned how much you loved the band growing up. please take them.” he urges you.

you don’t know what comes over but you’re suddenly that little girl trying to cross the street and you grab him by the cheeks. you kiss him without a second thought but this time he kisses you back. it’s a short but meaningful kiss.

“i should buy you coldplay tickets more often, huh?” he teases you.

“oh, shut up.” you blush.

he slowly creeps up next to you and wraps his arms around you before removing a strand of hair from your ear.

“in five years when we get married i’ll tell our guests about this.” he whispers into your ears.

a sudden rush of heat is felt near your cheeks and you can’t believe that six year old girl inside of you has won. you stare in awe at the midfielder, not the one you hate and despise but the one you’ve learned to love. the one who will cherish you for the rest of his life. he kisses you with so much fervor and passion you forget to breathe. his hatred for you the hatred that had never existed is now replaced by adoration and love. and you smile once again at the thought of telling this lifelong story to your wedding guests.

#pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri fic #pedri fanfic #football imagine #football fic #football fanfic #ash writes

771 notes · View notes

sunflowerhae · 4 months ago

Text

The Flops™️

Y/n

A 22 year old professional dumb ass with a side gig in being comedic relief. Y/n is easy to understand; she loves video games, loves her cat, and loves pasta. And well..MAYBE she loves her fans too. Y/n is what you could call an “unstoppable force”. She’s going up in the online entertainment world, and has no plans on stopping soon. After having JUST passed her 4 million subscriber milestone on YouTube, y/n believes her life is just near perfect. Which is exactly why God needed to humble her, she thinks. Because WHO kicks someone out of their apartment (3 months before their lease ends, might I add) because of a “miscommunication” if not compelled to by God Himself. So, now Y/n has to move all of her things..AGAIN..to a new place…AGAIN…and pray to God (who we’ve found does NOT have a soft spot for her) that this one sticks - at least for a little bit. Everyone around y/n quickly learns that it’s not her who’s the comedic relief, but instead her life which is so ridiculous, that you can’t help but laugh.

Giselle

Giselle has two main interests. She is a fan of music, and a fan of y/n. She got the music part covered by being one of Korea’s leading superstars. AND she has the y/n part covered by being y/n’s absolute ULTIMATE best friend. When she’s not hypnotizing a whole country with her melodies, she’s dreaming of hanging out with her friends and, maybe hot Greek men. But be careful! This kitty bites, and if you poke too hard at her, you’ll understand why they say she has claws.

Winter

When winter isn’t focusing on her (some would call it) obsession with animal crossing, she’s focusing on her blossoming career in the mukbang community. If you can name it, Winter can eat it. She’s still pretty new, but she’s gaining a steady following by her charming personality and, quite frankly, insane ability to hound a plate of food faster than you can utter an insult. It of course doesn’t hurt her new following that she’s good friends with some of the most influential people of her generation, but that doesn’t mean much to her. With a laugh and bite - winter is a happy girl.

Jisung

Jisung would never call himself a streamer. Sure, he plays video games for people to watch. Sure, he gets viewer numbers up to the thousands. SURE, he makes money off it and has a weekly upload schedule. But no, Jisung would NEVER call himself a streamer. So y/n does it for him! You might think the whole “bicker like siblings” thing is an act for the camera, but that’s just the nature of these two friends. When she’s not nagging him about how much he eats and yet never goes to the gym, Jisung fills the space by laughing and bullying y/n’s gameplay choices. Some newbies are convinced they actually hate each other, but OG’s know these two love each other fiercely, the difference is they show it in their own..unique..way.

Jaemin

Ah..Jaemin. The irony of Jaemin befalls all his friends. He is, by far, the most outgoing one of the bunch. Jaemin sees a new person as a new opportunity for a friend. He laughs in the face of introverts, while also hugging them and giving them a free bag of chips. Jaemin knows just what to say, and just when to say it. And it pains them all that he’s the ONLY “normal” one of the group. Jaemin is currently studying business at SNU, hoping to one day open a cat cafe. His nonchalance towards being in the most envied and admired friend group of their country confuses Jaemins classmates. And what confuses them even more is that, when asked if he feels lucky to be friends with them, his reply is only, “those idiots? More like what crimes did I commit in my last life to be cursed to know them”. But fear not for little old Jaemin, for he is probably the sneakiest of the lot. And if you don’t know what I mean, I’m sorry, but it’s already too late for you.

Jeno

Jeno is a model. It’s really that simple. Jeno is a model - and also so much more. He’s Jaemins best friend, he’s winters boyfriend, he’s the “glue” of the group (as y/n would put it), and he’s just genuinely a nice person. If you have an issue with anything - he’s there. A leak in your roof? Call Jeno. You’re missing a final ingredient for a recipe you’ve been dying to try? Jeno will find it, or die trying! Need a shoulder to cry on after a nasty breakup? Jeno is at yours with a tissue one minute, and an undisclosed location with a gun and some rope in the next. He’s the fiercest and loyalist friend you’ll ever have; who just so happens to be a model.

GG! (Good Game!) 👾

Notes: does anybody actually read my character descriptions bc I actually think I popped off w these ngl. Also not them being a hype house lowkey (without the house part)

☆ Masterlist ☆

Prev ─〇───── Next

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

| EXTRA |

53 notes · View notes

rei-does-stuff · 5 months ago

Note

Don’t be a coward.

France x America

This gives me an excuse to put my fic abt them here!

Context My France and America aren’t related like most other peoples hcs bc I’m an annoying contrarian

And I find the will they won’t they dynamic, friendly flirting between them a way funner dynamic, they aren’t together but they’re definitely at least a little into each other even if they won’t act on it

UK hates it bc hes hopelessly in love with france even tho she DOES NOT like him in the slightest like at all, like 0% like he is NEVER GONNA WIN HER EVER

Okay? Okay time for the bad fanfic now <3

—

Already the UK found this party atmosphere stifling, being a literal demon from hell usually had its perks but being the only who couldn’t get drunk wasn’t one of them. And god he wished he could drink away the sight before him.

“Oh Amé! You look ridiculous! Do you even know how to wear a tux properly? I swear the only thing you even know how to wear are those ugly sunglasses!” France teased.

“Ugly? Oh now you’re just insulting my poor heart! It’s very fragile, you know?” America said, feigning offense.

“Oh I bet, is that why you can’t even button your shirt properly?” France said as she went close to fix America’s clothes herself.

“Well if you have so many opinions maybe you should just dress me yourself?” America told her with a wink.

“Maybe I should, you’d look a lot better.”

“Oh so I already do look good?”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, god knows your ego is big enough.” France laughed as she handed America a pocket mirror. “There we go, you look a million times better!”

“Well look at that! I guess ya have some talent!” America said as he looked at himself with France’s mirror.

“Don’t push your luck with me.”

“Oo scary! You could kill me that with that stare!” America teased.

“I hope I can, wipe that smug smile off your face for once!”

“Can’t help it with that priceless reaction of yours Frenchy! Why don’t I get you another glass of wine as a thank you gift? Hm?”

“Oh now you’re just trying to bribe me!” France scoffed.

“I didn’t hear a no!”

“Oh shut up! Hurry up, I don’t like waiting you know? Better make it two, as an apology for having to deal with you.”

“You got it baby!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Can’t hear you, getting your wine!” America called out as he goes off to get France her wine. UK could have sworn he saw her smile a little.

As America went over to the bar he could see the UK glaring at him. “Woah, what’s with the scary look old man?” He asked.

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

“Did what?”

“Dress all ridiculous! You were trying to get her attention, that’s cheap even for you!” The UK said bitterly.

“Uh? Duh? It worked didn’t it? You sound angry man!” America almost immediately realized what was going on though. Surprising, for him. “Ohh right, you’re like really into France aren’t you? Oh you must’ve been pretty pissed huh? Ha! Oh man, I was wondering why you were creep-watching us you weirdo!” He laughed.

“You’re not funny.”

“She doesn’t think so! Oh don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna do anything like THAT. I ain’t into French girls.” America said nonchalantly.

“So what’s even the point?”

“Uh? Because I’m a grown ass man who can do whatever the hell he wants. Plus knowing it pisses you makes me wanna do it even more? Maybe I should sleep with her now honestly….Relax! Relax! Stop death glaring at me I’m only kidding!”

“What the hell does she even see in you? You’re a mess!” The UK exclaimed.

“A hot, funny, charming mess! That’s my appeal! Sorry to say but most women aren’t into sad bitter old men dude.” America said.

“I can be charming!”

“Can you though? I mean even Germany can get a date and he’s not even into that crap!” America said, he looked back at France who looked like she was getting impatient. “Ah shit! Gotta run, look man, instead of sitting here brooding and watching us like a weirdo, try to do something! Or I dunno, maybe try getting with someone else cause she is INTO me!” He laughed as he left with the wine.

UK growled seeing them talking, but the twat’s words did kick in, probably wasn’t a good idea to keep staring at him, if he was gonna get France’s attention be was gonna have to try harder…

But for now the sight of them together was making him sick enough to leave, tomorrow though? He’d make sure that American stood no chance against him.

—

Basically UK gets cucked, the fic! Not that great but I haven’t written ch stuff in a bit so shhhhh

#rei says stuff #ask #my writing #fanfiction #ch america #ch usa #countryhumans #countryhuman #ch france #countryhumans america #countryhuman america #countryhumans france #countryhuman france #long post

4 notes · View notes

greatrunner · 1 year ago

Text

Emily (2022), and when a dramatization is just bad

So, I watched this movie about Emily Bronte on Amazon Prime, called Emily (to its blandness). I was really looking forward to just watching a period piece ‘biopic’ about the Bronte sisters, because, despite their fame in the lit world, it’s weird that there’s so little about them in visual media.

From what I actually knew about the Bronte sisters prior to watching this (”a sister trio of writers, cool!”), what’s publicly available about them via documentaries and historians, I figure you’d have to try real, real hard to fuck up a dramatization about them.

And it’s to that end, I should’ve never underestimated director Frances O’Connor’s abilities, because, whew, lord, Emily was hot garbage on a sweltering day.

I really started thinking about how much the film (and novel) romance genre is informed by women’s particular brand of misogyny and sexism. You’ll see [white] women go on and on about sexism from men, especially in media. And not to discredit that, but, I’m honestly beginning to think it’s overcompensation.

No one throws women under the bus quite like other women.

Emily depicts the second best known Bronte sister as “so misunderstood” by her family, but especially by her sister Charlotte Bronte - who is depicted like the stuffy, uncool competitor of another man’s affections, with little to no interest in writing and imagination.

Anne Bronte is basically a background extra with little to no dialog who crumbles under the peer pressure of Charlotte who despises Emily’s need to turn every situation into an opportunity for storytelling.

Like, this film’s beef with Charlotte Bronte, and disinterest in Anne Bronte, is baffling. I come here for sister vibes, and instead I get Mean Girls. The fuck.

Emily Bronte is the embodiment of “not like the other girls”. She hangs with the boys, she smokes, drinks, she has a thinly veiled incestuous relationship with her brother, Branwell Bronte, and fucks generically hot priests (Oliver Jackson Cohen in maybe one the less inspired roles of his career).

Emily Bronte could not be any more of the 21st century white woman’s idea of the “cool girl who reads dark academia” if O’Connor taped the description on actress Emma Mackey’s head.

I can’t stress how much priority this film puts on male characters vs female characters as Emily Bronte’s choice of satellites. And as a justification for why she wrote Wuthering Heights, it’s boringly embarrassing.

Comparatively, Emily makes 2007′s Becoming Jane (starring Anne Hathaway as Jane Austen with a struggle accent) look like an Oscar winning drama (spoilers: I like that movie). Jane, at the very least, isn’t interested in the vilification or minimization of other female characters (that aren’t Professor McGonagall), even as it charts an equally fictionalized (or speculative) romance between Austen and James MacAvoy’s Thomas Lefroy (one that argues he was key in making her writing hit different).

While it’s clearly influenced by Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice (2005), Jane Austen’s relationships with her family, particularly her sister, matter in her story arc in the same way Elizabeth Bennett’s do in the aforementioned film. There’s sense of balance, however dramatized Austen’s story became for that film for the sake of a romance plot.

Comparatively, Emily depicts the Bronte family, sans her brother, as obstacles (if they aren’t nonevents) to her indulgences because they’re “oh, so ashamed of her proclivities”. Additionally, I just don’t care about Oliver Jackson-Cohen’s William Weightwright. Nigga is boring. I’d sooner believe Bly Manor’s Peter Quint (Jackson-Cohen, again) was a Healthcliff and homeboy was inspired by whole another ‘gothic lit’ author (Henry James).

For lack of a better word, I really hated this movie. There’s the argument that if you know next to nothing about the Bronte sisters that you might enjoy it. But even on that level, there’s a lot about the storytelling that is bland, and outright hateful imho.

Anyway, I hated everything (except maybe the score, which, as other have said, is overbearing for no rasin). It can die in a fire and be lost to the void of history.

#emily 2022 #bronte sisters #emily bronte #amazon prime #women directors #white women directors #oliver jackson cohen #greatrunners meta

15 notes · View notes

atopearth · 1 year ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers: Haunted Dark Bridal Part 1 - Sakamaki Ayato Route

Just to start off, I watched a bit of the Diabolik Lovers anime and kinda liked it but also felt it was a bit weird, so I thought I would try out the game instead! I really love the art, so I just had to try the story again, especially since all the guys are hot haha. Btw, since the game is in Japanese, I have been reading it with a translation on the side haha. I try to read it with my own skills but some things are just too hard haha. Anyway, man, this feels like a horror game for the poor girl lmao. Not only does Yui get abandoned by her father for "her sake" but she's told to go to a haunted house to see some relatives that will take care of her?? I wonder if the dad is on this, like why couldn't he take her along and why is she being sent to these suspicious vampire men? OMG, I was like is Ayato's VA who I think it is, and of course it is Midorikawa Hikaru!! I love him already. Lmao I was wondering what "chichinashi" was when Ayato referred to her as that but it actually means titless🤣 He's such an ass to keep repeating that she has no breasts lol. Laito just licked Yui?? Omggg lol. Anyway, I forgot about Laito always referring to her as bitch-chan, so now I'm annoyed with him but also dead at how silly it sounds😂 Omg Kanato's appearance is legit terrifying. His eyes look so soulless, I am scared.

AHHH, I heard about the binaural audio or dummy head microphone thing about this game so I've been trying it out with earphones and I felt so violated with the licking noises LOL. Kanato is so creepy, he makes me so scared lmao😂 The way he talked to his teddy bear? Legit horrifying🥲 Ummm, did Reiji just say it's okay to cook Yui? Plz. I mean, Reiji is hot and if he says he'll whip Yui for not explaining why she's here... I'm in for it😂 I'm sorry, I'm trash too😂 Anyway, Yui has some spunk even though she's even more terrified after discovering that they're vampires. I felt so bad for her when she tried to run away but got caught and then had her mobile phone broken by Subaru. I think the saddest thing is that her dad really meant to leave her here (according to Shuu). So...we have to pick who she'll give her blood to and that's the route we'll end up on? Well, Ayato it is! I am terrified of Kanato saying he'll cut Yui up if we don't pick him, and I don't know what we'll regret about not choosing Laito but from my perspective, Ayato seems the most normal. I hope he is anyway... Well, glad to see Shuu tell them that they're not allowed to kill Yui because of whoever in the church that is related to this?🥲 Lol at Ayato teasing Yui for being scared of the lights going out and thinking a ghost would come out. He refers to himself as Ayato-sama to her hahaha, I guess he does just view her as food.. On one hand, I feel very sorry for Yui because Ayato biting her must hurt, but on the other hand, I cannot resist Midorikawa Hikaru's voice so yes pls. Ooh I didn't realise that they're not proper routes but more like short events or scenarios? Interesting. I legit can't. The binaural audio with earphones really feels like Ayato is speaking straight into my head LOL, it's so good and so disturbing at the same time hahaha. Lmao when Yui was worried about Ayato getting poisoned as well when she thought a poisonous bat scratched her and Ayato sucked her blood. On the other hand, the sucking noises with binaural audio is a whole new experience, I recommend everyone to listen to it at least once in their lives🤣

Well, I thought Ayato was just going to play a nice prank where he scares Yui with a wax doll but omg when he tried to drip wax on her body so she can become a wax doll too, like dude hold up please. LMAO when Ayato stole Yui's notebook to try and force her to go home so he can drink her blood, and she distracts him by saying there's a big breasts beauty in the hallway, and he even believes it enough that Yui gets her notebook back🤣🤣🤣 At least he's got the decency to take her back after sucking so much blood from her, but I'm seriously lowering my standards for Ayato aren't I?🤣 Ayato licking the wound on Yui's knee so that none of her blood gets wasted was nicee, lmao when he tried to move her skirt out of the way and lick her thighs because he was "bored" of her knee🤣 Omg, what did he use on Yui to make her burn up and feel light headed! Anyway, I guess I should be throwing all my morals out for this game because dang, when he kissed her cheeks and asked if it felt good, I swooned🤣 OMG BINAURAL AUDIO IS SO DANGEROUS. Ayato whispering in my ear saying he can't hold back is not what I was expecting, omg, my heart. Nice to know how interested he is in Yui now though haha. The kisses omgggg!! I mean yeah, this game is very iffy when it comes to consent and toxic men but I find it very refreshing hahaha. I mean, I can't resist Ayato saying he'll take all of Yui's first times and I love how unrelenting he was when it came to teasing her with kisses lol. Well, I was going to say Ayato's mother (Cordelia) looks hot, which she does but dang does she seem kinda crazy. But then again, who isn’t crazy in this game?

Lmao when Yui said should she act like she dislikes him drinking her blood if that's what makes him happy🤣 Yui really is too sweet and naive lol. The moment Ayato took the dog collar off the dog, I knew he was going to put it on Yui and tell her to be his dog lmao. I lovee the kitchen scene!! It was so cute how he kept kissing her and kept wanting her attention when she was cooking lmao. One of the rare times he's actually cute and honest, and omgg Ayato's favourite food is takoyaki! I approve. Loll when he bit another girl just because he wanted to see Yui's reaction. Honestly, even though we know this relationship is toxic, I admit that the thought of Ayato going to another girl for blood made me sad too. OMG IT'S THE THING OF NIGHTMARES! Legit wanted to freak out with that sideways pose Kanato makes, it's so creepy omg. Okay, it's nuts but I love it. Binaural audio of Midorikawa Hikaru saying "you belong to me/you're mine" is just the besttt👌👌👌 My heart omg. Ohhh dangg, they actually did it omggg?! Lmao when he was holding himself back from drinking her blood because she's weak right now so he poured honey on her instead and started licking her lmao. Ayato was so mean when he handcuffed her and left her in a dark underground sewer all by herself for a while! She would be relieved and happy to see anyone after that! WOW, what a jerk LMAO, I legit laughed (I’m sorry) when Ayato pushed Yui into the lake because she was focused on looking for shooting stars and wasn't giving him enough attention, what a guy man. Honestly, it's pretty hilarious how jealous Ayato can get, I do feel bad for Yui but it is cute in its own way. Does Yui have Cordelia's heart or something? Is that why Ayato thinks their blood tastes the same? Just when you think Ayato is nice, he gets a bit more nuts and starts using a knife to slowly cut her for blood because biting her apparently isn't as exciting anymore lolll.

Well, the first ending is rather tame. How interesting that Richter was the one who put Cordelia's heart into Yui. Whether he did that because he wanted Cordelia to live on somehow or because he wanted to spite Ayato's father, the vampire king or whatever, who knows I guess. Does Richter have a route though? I like him, well his face😅 Dang, that after story with Yui wanting Ayato to bite her everywhere and even wanting him to bite her ring finger so that his mark will always be there. Lmao that they were doing that in the lounge ignoring everyone around them haha! Lolll when she asked Laito for recommendations for presents to give to a guy and he's like their girlfriend's underwear, this wild man🤣 On the other hand, it's nice to see how concerned and worried Ayato is running around looking for Yui. Honestly, I'm sure Yui could just say she went shopping and he wouldn't even realise it's for his birthday lol, but I guess drama is drama. I can't even blame Ayato for getting annoyed considering his personality alongside Laito just constantly causing trouble lol. I wanted to tear up when Yui bit her own finger not wanting the mark of her being his to fade. OMG, Ayato actually apologised to Yui and kissed her finger for misunderstanding her when she was just trying her best to give him a surprise birthday present. That's so cute, really didn't expect the apology haha! It is illegal for Ayato to blush!! He's so cute when he blushes!! So adorable to see how he happy he was to receive the Ruby earring from Yui. Oh, and a man that's willing to eat a smashed up cake that fell on the floor for you is a 10/10! He may be toxic but he's such a sweet guy when it counts! Well transferring cake mouth-to-mouth certainly sounds hot! I approve. The cake probably won't really taste that good though haha. Okay, the sadistic ending was very not nice lol! He killed all the vampires and Yui has basically become his doll, yeah... I guess the other one isn't any better hahah. It broke my heart to see the guys try and take advantage of Yui and suck her blood when Ayato was gone, I felt so bad for her. I felt so relieved for her when Ayato came back, and I honestly loved how angry he was at the guys and how protective he was over her. Considering how he can be, him disinfecting her body with his kisses and then hugging her when she was scared was sweet.

Overall, Ayato was better than I thought he would be! Yeah, he was crazy possessive at times (most of the time) and he doesn't listen to Yui when she says she's anemic and needs rest, but he's also very gentle when he wants to be. I loved it when he hugged her to reassure her that he's the one with her in the heaven scenario and when he apologised to her after misunderstanding her on his birthday?? Such improvement, I wanted to cry. But yeah, then there's times he'll push her into the lake because she's not giving him the attention he wants lmao. It's such a rollercoaster, I love it. It's even better that he's voiced by Midorikawa Hikaru because that instantly makes Ayato 1000x better hahaha, I just love how sensually he talks into your ear with the binaural audio haha! Anyway, Ayato was cuter than expected, and I guess you'll like him if you like men who are possessive and a bit childish in that aspect of you needing to give him all your attention all the time lol. I’m definitely all in on this ride of Diabolik Lovers. It’s so rare to find men so unapologetically toxic LOL. Every now and then I just need this toxicity injected into my veins HAHA.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers haunted dark bridal

5 notes · View notes

pearblossommina · 2 years ago

Text

ToG Read-a-Long, Queen of Shadows, day 2

Ch 8

Manon, omg she’s here omg

and so is DUKE PERRINGTON that mf. never ever thought I’d see him again.

This stuff with Kaltain really upsets me

In the first place sexual violence really upsets me - even if it’s just implied and not directly on screen - I am soft, and I am EASILY DISTRESSED - and I don’t like to read novels where stuff like this happens. It upsets me even more if this is supposed to be her comeuppance for being unlikeable in book one. Nobody deserves what this poor woman went through. (The addiction. The dungeons. And forced to marry the Duke, of all things.) (now she’s a mindless minion wearing one of those collars)

Why does Kaltain have to wear a collar, though…?

Is she a magician like Dorian? Is she secretly a princess, is she actually his sister and he didn’t know it? IS THAT WHY THE QUEEN DIDN’T LINE HER UP AS A MARRIAGE CANDIDATE FOR DORIAN IN BOOK 1

Maybe not, lol, she’s probably only wearing one so we’ll get to learn a way to free someone from a collar without beheading them… I refuse to just accept now that Kaltain is probably going to lose her head…

Anyway, I feel awful seeing her like this, it feels real icky and I hate everything about it.

ch 9

I formed some private opinions on Lysandra while I was reading The Assassin’s Blade but I wasn’t sure if she was going to be a returning character or not.

I think she’s fine????

And

I don’t

Understand

Why she and Celaena hate each other

Like - is it just because of Sam????

Sam wanted you to be friends! So! Stop hating each other it doesn’t MAKE ANY SENSE you’re both victims of the same twisted system and you could murder Arobynn together if you could get over your petty grudge.

“Not the sword-no, she wanted the intimacy of a knife, wanted to share breath with the courtesan as she ended her.”

Hot

PLEASE share breath with her

I mean

(I know - I’m sorry - but my brain is like (maybe they should kiss) end this tension the good old fashioned way)

"Unfortunately for you, I don't have any interest in women. Even when they're paid for." My ship sinks, womp womp

(Screw you SJM can’t I ever have anything I want)

(Let Aelin kiss a girl damn it)

The ending of this chapter is so fast

But yeah I agree! Quit dismissing people, Aelin? You’re not better than everyone else. You could have been friends with Lysandra instead of enemies, you could have been friends with Kaltain instead of judging her instantly, you could have GOTTEN TO KNOW Sorscha instead of just letting her fade into the background like she was beneath your notice.

IS THIS CHARACTER GROWTH oh my goodness (I am rooting for you so hard honey) (MY QUEEN)

Ch 10

“The least you could do is take me to dinner before looking at me like that.” I love you Aedion lol

But AHHHHHHHH this villain! I hate him

I hate him when can he die

Ch 11

Hehe

I kinda like Nesryn too

I hope she saves Dorian, I really do like him, and I’m team save-his-neck. Would like to see Chaol and Dorian get reunited as best-bros-who-are-totally-platonic-and-not-in-love.

Ch 12

“Humans were for sport and blood and the occasional, very rare siring of witchlings.”

I still wanna know if there’s any such thing as a male witch

Ok - so there seems to be some plot happening. Duke wants to implant stones in their belly buttons to make new soldiers….

And witches are already partially valg?

I swear to god I was paying attention before but this feels like brand new information.

(I don’t care. The more SJM makes them seem like scary unredeemable villains the harder I simp)

“Witchlings were so rare, and all of them female, as a gift from the Three-Faced Goddess.” Oh so the witches ARE all female

That’s pretty nifty and I like it as worldbuilding. I don’t like Harry Potter anymore, but it reminds me of the Veela. It’s just fascinating to have a fantasy race that can only be passed through female lineage, like they can have sex with human men, and procreate, but a male child will never bear the full features of the race. For some reason this sort of thing is really engaging to me. Also I just like high fantasy lesbian allegories, fight me.

“Manon poked an iron-tipped nail beneath Elide’s chin, tilting her head up.”

I am so down bad, Manon, PLEASE

(she- SHE!!!!) (i’m so gay) (I’m gonna lose it if she keeps being so effortlessly sexy)(I’m sorry) (guh) (she’s very hot though)

I’m like, really having a hard time not devouring this book

The struggle is real

#tog read along 2023 #queen of shadows

5 notes · View notes

jodilin65 · 3 months ago

Text

When I was in my late 30s to early 40s and would sometimes get hyped up and act like I was still physically and emotionally quite young, I would sometimes chide myself for it and tell myself to “grow up” much like my mother often did. Now, here I am in my late 50s wishing I could tell myself to act and feel a little more grown up. Funny how life turns out at times.

I recently watched some old restored video clips on Facebook from over 100 years ago, and they were a fascinating glimpse into the past. It’s the kind of thing you don’t think much about when you’re young, but as you get older, you come to appreciate it more. There was one scene at a beach, and I couldn’t believe how those women and girls managed to wear such long, heavy dresses, long sleeves, and bulky hats on a hot, sunny day. They wore such attire everywhere, not just at the beach, and I didn’t see any women in the water. Some even wore regular shoes, which made me wonder if they swam back then.

Yesterday was a better day than the day before, and I had decent energy. We even made a quick trip to Publix.

Today, I don’t have as much energy, which isn’t surprising. I’m tired today—not the worst kind of tired, but definitely not as energetic as yesterday. This is normal for me, and while I try to find the good in having something that’s normal for us, it’s easier said than done because I haven’t found much good in it. It renders me lazy, and I struggle to see the benefit of that. On the other hand, I can’t imagine life with my old energy levels either. This is definitely who I am now. When I see the doctor on the 19th, if they can’t help me, acceptance will likely follow. I’ve resigned myself to this being my last-ditch effort to address my fatigue and sleep issues. Even if I can’t go on vacations or move, I’d rather be stuck here than in most of the places I’ve been in the past.

I’ve now lived in the East as long as I lived in the West. I left New England when I was 26 and spent 29 years in the West. Adding the 3 years I’ve spent in the Southeast makes it an even split, at least for now.

I’ve been having fun with AI generating titles for my old journal entries. I even let it choose titles for some of my current entries, although I don’t always like its choices, so I sometimes pick my own.

I had a dream where I sold a young girl a rug with a rat design on it, which I either made or bought, and later regretted.

In another part of the dream, we were living in our old house in Phoenix, and I observed a rat in the back room walking around its cage. Since we were about to move, it was temporarily housed in an aquarium, but the rat had long legs, almost like a cat. I was amused by its actions and tried not to laugh too loudly because Tom was asleep.

Then, I walked through the kitchen and was entering the living room when I saw the front door opening and two men standing outside. At first, I thought the door had blown open or wasn’t locked, but as it widened, I saw that they were detectives. One of them asked if I was who I was, and I said yes. The detective then extended their hand for a handshake, but instead of shaking it, I froze, feeling a mix of anger about the unlocked door and fear that I was going to be arrested.

“What's going on?” I asked, then quickly added, “Let me wake up my husband.” Although I didn’t know why, I felt I was in trouble and wanted Tom to know where I was if they took me away.

Then the dream ended, and I woke up relieved to realize it was just a crazy dream. Back when the freeloaders and their connections to law enforcement were using the law against me, I would have loved to wake up in the comfort and safety of my own bed, knowing it was just a horrible dream. I’ve never forgiven them for what they did to me and never will. If we were suddenly living in a lawless land…ohhh…

0 notes

eucatastrophicblues · 7 months ago

Note

I’m somebody who, despite being a lesbian, has primarily had M/M ships until very recently (Yellowjackets and Otherside Picnic both having the kinds of stories I like and featuring at least one canon F/F couple alongside plenty of psychosexual lesbian subtext and subconscious desire have helped), but because I’m a lesbian with F/F friends I’ve spent a lot of time trying to explain myself and define why I like M/M ships and what compels me about them.

The conclusion I’ve reached is that there are things that have historically been uncommon in F/F stories that are more present in M/M ones, including but not limited to

Hardcore whump and hurt/comfort where one party is really brutalized and hurt onscreen (found to an extent in Xena but certainly more common in M/M-heavy spaces; this is also really common in M/F romance like Outlander)

Sexual tension or loaded scenes where there’s a primary focus on how the characters interact with each other instead of blocking and directing everything with an invisible “what will the audience find attractive?” filter (this doesn’t exist in Bound or in Love Lies Bleeding, but LLB is brand new and Bound was relatively unknown until a few years ago), and leads that aren’t always 100% trying to be hot in typical polished Hollywood ways

Substance abuse, gritty and raw anger issues, deep explorations of ugly trauma

Actors who look like they want to fuck and who look like they enjoy kissing and touching each other

Central characters who have aesthetics and personalities that aren’t about being conventionally attractive

Character relationships that aren’t limited to basic conversations or story arcs that include everyone in an ensemble cast without any time for individual development

A plot that involves an organically growing partnership and trust

I’ve also seen M/F fandoms shrink drastically in popularity and relevance over the past ten years. If we’re going to mention HP, I think it’s important to note that IN THE FOUR YEARS SINCE 2020, the biggest development in that fandom on Tumblr has been a noncanonical M/M ship replacing a canon M/F ship. This happened after JKR went full TERF.

Female het shippers who like girls in het ships used to be significantly more present in the Tumblr ecosystem of broader pop culture discussion; those are vanishing too. Even in smaller female-focused fandoms I’m bombarded constantly with “okay but can we care about the men??? why can’t we talk about the men?”, including times when a transfem-coded character is treated like a cis man so that he can be in a gay relationship.

This isn’t a radfem issue. There is an actual problem. I didn’t used to think there was a problem, and I’m still a fairly proud “Yaoi Lesbian”, but seeing what I’ve seen in just the past few years has convinced me that it’s not getting better, it’s getting worse.

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/746553097204203521/the-fandom-hates-women-response-to-lack-of-ff

The "fandom hates women" part of it comes from the fact that fandom as an entity just doesn't watch the kind of media that draws femslash, even if it ticks all of the boxes of things those very same people say they like. There are so many times I've watched a show that I've seen mega-popular Tumblr posts wishing existed, and then the fandom is so, so small comparatively and often in general. There have been superheroes, vampire/supernatural shows, fantasy shows, movies, books, the list goes on, that feel like they were generated out of Tumblr's desires for ideal fandom media, and everyone knows they're never going to attract anywhere near the same attention for fandom and fanworks because the common denominator just tends to be that if there isn't a full ensemble of attractive men to ship either with each other or with the women, fandom's not interested.

So it's not about prioritizing women in that sense, it's about people witnessing hypocrisy over and over again the second a show doesn't have a mostly-male ensemble. The people who are in these fandoms are frustrated that good faith attempts to get people interested are met with every excuse in the book that all eventually boils down to "I don't like watching stuff with women in it as much as I like watching stuff with men in it." And if that's how people feel about it... sometimes the conclusions are going to turn into the more uncharitable take of "fandom hates women."

Maybe, but whenever I see a "fandom hates women" reblog of my stuff, one or two reblogs further down the chain I get an overt TERF. I just had to go block several people today, in fact.

The first person to reblog with a comment like that is usually subtle, but their friends and friends of friends are not. The rhetoric that very quickly starts is the fandom equivalent of that "All the butches are becoming trans men! We're losing lesbians!" stuff.

Here's the thing: I've been in ten billion fandoms that were so awesome and fit fandom's supposed tastes to a T and yet no amount of promoting them could get anyone to try the canon. This goes for canons that are all men or all white men or all majority ethnicity men or whatever else.

The default state of media is to not engender a big fic fandom.

I agree that the rare outliers mostly follow certain patterns, but we extrapolate too far when we say that a lack of those patterns is why a fandom is small.

A fandom is small because that's the near-universal default.

Yes, a small slice of fandom consists of guilt-ridden queer fujoshi who say they want more f/f but don't make much of a move to make that happen. I tend to run into that a lot because of my own tastes and having friends who share those tastes.

Far more of fandom is people talking generally about how representation matters without saying they would personally join these fandoms if they existed.

Neither group is large enough to be the real reason some woman-heavy canon fails to take off to HP levels.

The real reason is not hypocrisy but the fact that most things don't take off like that. Most things without massive, massive audiences especially don't take off like that. And the very few things that do are flukes and don't actually predict that another similar thing will take off in the future.

Go to AO3's tag search. Search for all canonical fandom tags. Sort by uses and descending order.

Right now, I get 64,390 tags.

The first page, 50 tags, goes from HP with 497,845 works to the Thor movies with 59,266 works. By page 6, we're below 10 thousand works.

By the end of page 10, we're down to Labyrinth with 3,906.

Somewhere in the top 500 AO3 fandom tags (many of which are just franchise metatags for each other), we go all the way from megafandoms to medium size and down to relatively modest ones.

That's not a lot of room for a big f/f-heavy fandom given the trends in mainstream media and that mainstream media is where most really big fandoms come from.

I also notice that you're conflating a lack of desire to watch something that's primarily about women with a lack of desire to watch something that includes women.

There are tons of fans who want something more like The Mummy with a leading man and leading woman they love.

Granted, that's not me and that's not a lot of my fujoshi/slasher audience, but it's extraordinarily common. I know plenty of people who don't like canons that are only dudes, but since they also don't like canons that are only ladies and they don't ship f/f, this gets spun into "fandom hates women".

Let me be clear:

Conflating "lesbians" and "women" is a radfem position.

#sigh

395 notes · View notes

jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook and @onherwings for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.

Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.

College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.

But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.

“What if we, like, had sex?”

Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.

After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”

“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”

You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”

“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”

“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”

“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”

The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

“But it’s not like you’re any better.”

This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”

“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”

Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.

“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”

A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”

“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”

A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.

“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”

You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.

The cons? He’s your best friend.

The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.

Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.

“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”

“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”

“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”

Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”

“It’s true though.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”

“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”

But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”

As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”

“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?

You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.

“Y/N…”

The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.

“Touch me?”

Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.

Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”

But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”

“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.

You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.

“Like this?” You rasp.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”

“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.

“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”

He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?

He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.

“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”

And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.

But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.

So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.

Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.

A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?

Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.

“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.

Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.

You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.

“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”

More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.

“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”

Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”

“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.

“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”

“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”

“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”

“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”

Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”

Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”

Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”

“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”

“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.

After all, what are best friends for?

So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.

A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).

But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.

It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.

Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.

Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”

There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).

But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.

As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.

“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”

“You know him?”

“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”

“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”

You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.

So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”

“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”

Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.

It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.

“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”

“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”

Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”

Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.

“Jungkook━!”

He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.

“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”

The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.

Fuck it, you cave.

You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.

“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”

That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.

“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”

Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.

“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.

You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.

“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.

From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.

bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??

You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.

That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.

Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.

“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.

“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”

The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”

“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.

From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”

“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”

“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”

You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?

You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.

But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.

You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”

“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.

It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.

“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.

Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.

“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”

“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.

“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.

“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”

He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”

Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”

“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”

“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”

“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”

“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”

You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.

God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.

And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.

You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”

In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.

A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”

You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”

“Well…?”

“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”

That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”

“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”

A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.

Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.

That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.

And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.

He smiles.

The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.

For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.

“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”

Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”

“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.

You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━

It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.

“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”

“What?”

“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”

The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”

But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”

You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”

You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”

“Jungkook…”

“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”

“But you wanna.”

“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.

You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?

A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.

Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.

So then why does it feel like he is?

When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.

A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?

You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.

Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.

“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”

“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”

You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.

You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”

“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”

A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”

Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”

“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”

“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”

“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.

“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”

“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.

“Why?”

“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”

The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”

“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”

Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━

“No.”

“What?”

“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Me?”

The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.

Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.

It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.

Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.

Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”

Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”

Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”

Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”

You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.

“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”

“Oh, Koo…”

A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.

He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”

“You already have.”

“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”

“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”

“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.

He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.

“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”

He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.

“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”

With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.

A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”

“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”

A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.

“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”

“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”

Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”

“No,” You croak.

You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.

“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”

“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”

“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”

His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.

Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”

You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”

“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.

Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”

Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”

Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.

“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”

As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”

You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.

When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.

It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.

“Jungkook.”

He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”

A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”

“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”

It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”

Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”

His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.

It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.

Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━

“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”

The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.

“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”

He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”

You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”

“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.

A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”

Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.

Because he wants it all with you.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

13K notes · View notes

pilothusband · 3 years ago

Text

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even.

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.”

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin.

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree.

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths.

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment.

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?”

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms.

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair, but your arms aren’t long enough to reach.

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

“Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing.

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

“Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

You moan and break the kiss.

“Want to take this to my room?”

He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

“Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

“So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

“So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

“We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern.

“No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace.

All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly.

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes.

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

#frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales pilot of my heart #all hail francisco morales pussy eating king

1K notes · View notes

chrisevansjellybeans · 4 years ago

Text

I Love You, You Idiot | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Here I am, once again writing in my favorite "we're best friends but we won't say we're in love" trope. Someone stop me.

A/N: This does not fall into the TFAWTS timeline!

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angsty-ish

*not my gif*

The bass rumbled through your entire body as you tried to listen to whatever story Sam was telling to the group. You tried with everything in you to listen but the mixture of the loud music of the club and your best friend's hand just casually laying on your exposed thigh was making it very difficult. You noticed the group laugh so you let out a small chuckle but if anyone asked you would not be able to say what was so funny.

“You okay, doll?” You glanced up at Bucky, who’s blue eyes were squinted with concern. His thumb slowly rubbing circles on the spot on your inner thigh where it was rested. “You look a little out of it. Do you need me to take you home?”

Say words, Y/N. You told yourself. But forming sentences was getting harder and harder with each circular pass the pad of his thumb made.

“Uh.”

Good job. Very articulate.

You didn’t want to be that person. The person who falls in love with her super hot best friend, but doesn’t say anything because they don’t want to “ruin the friendship” and then ends up sad and alone because said best friend doesn’t realize the feelings and moves on to someone else. And yet here you were. Being that cliche.

“Guys, I think I’m going to take Y/N home.” You heard Bucky say. Snapping out of whatever trance you were in you shifted away from him so his hand was no longer on your leg.

“No, I’m fine.” You stood up, strong and steady. “See? I was just thinking about some work stuff. But I’m gonna go grab another drink. Anyone want anything?”

The group shook their head and you made your way to the bar, happy to be away for a couple minutes.

Your moment of solace lasted only a few seconds though because you felt Bucky’s presence behind you. He trapped you in by placing his arms on either side of you, his chin landing on your shoulder.

“Wanna take shots?” Bucky’s voice rumbled in your ear. You really hoped he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that arose all over your skin. His breath smelled like a mix of spearmint and whiskey. A scent that if it came from any other man you would have probably been repulsed but on Bucky it was just comforting.

“Only if they’re tequila.” You turned around so you were face to face with him. Bucky gave you a cheeky smile as he waved the bartender over, ordering two shots each and then your regular drink order. As the bartender got your drinks ready, Bucky leaned down on his arms so he was even closer, your faces barely an inch apart.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” Bucky smiled, pressing a slight kiss to your cheek.

“You’re mine too.” You whispered but you knew he heard you. Thank god for that super soldier hearing. Bucky stood back up and you could tell that he was on high alert, making sure that no one bumped into you or was making a beeline in the direction you guys were in.

You turned back around and placed your arms on the bar and leaned against it, your breasts pushing up slightly causing the guy next to you to take notice.

“Hey,” you glanced over as the guy next to you turned his body to fully face you. “You are the most beautiful woman at this bar.” You were amazed at how bold this guy was being. Bucky was still behind you, his arms still on either side of you. To anyone who didn’t know the two of you, it would be safe to assume that you were a couple.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” You smiled at him and leaned against Bucky’s arm a bit, to hopefully give that couple illusion even more.

Bucky was watching the interaction carefully, not yet ready to intervene but there if he needed to. You noticed his vibranium hand flex on the bar as the guy continued to flirt with you, that small action causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“You wanna get out of here, pretty girl?” The guy leaned in even closer to you, officially popping the imaginary bubble you had around you. That was enough for you and for Bucky.

“Alright buddy, ease up.” Bucky pushed a hand against the guy's chest, moving him away from you. “She’s with me.”

“Relax, big guy. Why don’t you let this little mama speak for herself.” The guy stood up from his chair, he was Bucky’s height but you, Bucky and the guy knew that if it came down to it Bucky would kick his ass.

“This little mama doesn’t want to go home with you.” You said sternly. As you finished speaking, the bartender placed the shots and the drinks in front you.

“Bitch.” The guy mumbled, shaking his head and making his way around Bucky.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Bucky grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt. His eyes blazing as he glared down at the asshole. With each second that passed you could tell his hands were tightening around the guy’s shirt.

“I called your little slut girlfriend a bitch.” He spat out. “Maybe control your woman from flirting with other men at-”

Before he could finish, Bucky slammed his fist into his face. You let out a scream as the guy fell to the ground. Everyone’s eyes now focused on the three of you. Bucky reached down and grabbed him, pulling him back up. You had to look away as blood started to pour out of his nose and down his face. It looked like Bucky was about to punch him again but you quickly put your hand on his arm. Bucky looked over at you, his chest heaving, his metal arm shifting under the stress of his grip.

“Bucky, please. It’s not worth it. Look.” You glanced at the crowd that started to form, phones out and recording.

You could see the headlines now: Winter Soldier Bar Brawl: Is he still unhinged?

You spotted Sam making his way over, his face full of concern. Turning back to Bucky you squeezed his bicep. “Please. Let’s go.”

“Buck.” Sam made it over to you. “Go, I’ll take care of it.”

Bucky heaved as he pushed the guy away from him and then grabbed your hand. He quickly threw down a crumpled hundred dollar bill on the bar and didn’t wait for the change as he pulled you through the crowd of recording phones and out of the club.

He quietly pulled you down the street until you guys ended up at least four blocks away from the club.

“I should have killed that guy.” He huffed as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Immediately he winced and pulled his flesh hand out. You hadn’t noticed before but his hand was definitely red and swelling. “Fuck.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” You sighed as you gently took his hand in yours, turning it over and inspecting any damage. It didn’t look fractured but it was definitely sprained and going to be sore for a while. “You could have broken your hand, you fucking idiot.”

“It will heal in a couple hours. And you’re welcome.” Bucky scowled in your direction. “Next time, I’ll just let him shit talk you all night.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that. If you would have waited another twenty seconds we would have gotten our drinks and probably wouldn't have seen that man again.” You glared. “Instead you had to turn into a cave man and beat on your chest and prove your dominance.” You tried to sound tough but your voice was shaking given how cold you were. You had left your jacket back in the club.

“I wasn’t proving shit, Y/N.” Bucky snapped as he pulled his hand out of yours, sliding his leather jacket off and putting it around your shoulders in a huff. “Maybe it infuriates me to hear someone talk about you like that.”

“Well it’s not all cake and ice cream for me, but you don’t see me throwing god damn punches.” You sighed as you wrapped the jacket tighter around your body. “This is going to be everywhere tomorrow.”

“Who gives a fuck.” Bucky muttered.

“You should!” You fumed. “It’s not a great look to have you out here punching random guys at bars, Bucky. Especially over nothing that important.”

“Stop talking like that. God, it’s like you are the only fucking person who doesn’t see how goddamn special and important you are.” Bucky hissed as his hand continued to throb. “So please just..stop talking.”

You snapped your mouth shut as you shot daggers at Bucky which he gladly returned. You turned away from him, calling a car to take you back to his place. You both waited in silence, Bucky only making the occasional foul exclamation whenever his hand hurt. Finally for what seemed hours the car finally pulled up. Bucky, always the gentleman even when angry, held the door open for you as you slid in closing it gently but not making any moves to get in the car. You looked up at him through the window confused but he only shook his head and tapped the car, signally for the driver to leave.

“Can you please wait.” You turned to the driver who let out an annoyed huff.

“Five minutes lady. It’s almost bar time.”

Quickly you opened the door not stepping completely outside, the air having an unforgiving bite to it now.

“Get in the fucking car, Bucky.”

“You go, you have a key. I just need some time.”

“You can take some time in your apartment. Just get in the car.” You retorted.

“I’m not getting in that car.”

“James, I swear to god.” You were fully out of the car now. You slammed the door shut causing the driver to cast an annoyed look your way. “What is your problem? We argue all the time, it’s not that serious.”

“It’s not about the argument,” he grumbled. “It’s about the fact that you are so completely oblivious to how fucking perfect you are and how it wasn’t just that guy that was staring at you but every other guy in that bar. And how angry it makes me that I just want to go up to every single of one of them and tell them to put their dicks away because you’re mine and only mine.”

Your breath hitched as you processed his words.

“And I’m doing everything in power to not just shake you until you realize that I love you, and not just as my friend.”

“I-”

“I can’t believe I just told you that.” Bucky shook his head and let out a humorless chuckle. “Get in the car, Y/N. I’ll see you later.”

Bucky turned and started walking down the street.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” You yelled after him. “If you don’t think that I love you back, then you really are a bigger idiot than I thought.” Bucky stopped in his tracks.

“What did you just say?” He asked as he faced you again. He stayed where he was but you could see the tension start to leave his body.

“I said,” You smiled as you let out a long breath. “That I love you, you idiot.”

Before you knew it, Bucky was over to you and he had you scooped up in his arms. His mouth moved feverishly against yours, every emotion that the two of you had for each other pouring out in this one kiss. Your hands found their way up his chest and around his neck. He let out a low moan that sent vibrations through your whole body.

“Alright, lady, I’m leaving.” You both ignored the driver as he waved you off and pulled out and down the street. But you couldn’t care less because you were finally in the arms of your best friend.

“Say it again.” Bucky whispered against your lips.

“I love you, you idiot.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.

Right Hand Man - ao3

It was a bad day.

All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.

“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”

“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”

Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.

“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”

“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.

They’d make a decision one way or another.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.

Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –

Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.

It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.

He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.

“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”

She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.

They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?

Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.

Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.

“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”

“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”

“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”

“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?

He wanted to be friends, too.

His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.

“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”

She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.

Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.

“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”

His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.

Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.

“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”

Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”

“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.

He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.

Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”

“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”

Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.

Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.

“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.

Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”

“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”

Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”

“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”

“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”

He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.

And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.

Who his parents were.

“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”

“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”

Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.

“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.

Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!

Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.

It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.

And not just for the intrusion.

Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.

And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –

“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –

Lan Wangji nodded.

Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –

“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.

“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“…I could say it for you, if you want?”

Even more urgent head-shaking.

Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.

As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.

“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”

When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.

Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.

And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.

Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.

“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”

“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.

Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.

Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.

“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.

“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”

“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”

Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.

Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.

“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”

“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”

Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.

She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.

(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)

“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”

“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”

Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.

But not as much as his mother hated it.

It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.

(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)

“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”

“But –”

“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.

Almost as spineless.

“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.

“A-Xuan..?”

“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone��s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”

Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.

Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.

It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.

Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.

“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”

“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”

“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. “Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”

Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.

It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.

He hoped she choked on the knowledge.

“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”

“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”

“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.

“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”

“Not because of that!”

Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”

“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”

“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”

“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”

Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.

“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”

“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”

“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”

Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.

“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”

“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.

Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.

A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.

He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.

He’d already resigned himself.

“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?”

“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”

“…so, never.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”

Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.

“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.

It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.

“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.

“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”

“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”

“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”

“You did? You? What’d she do?”

“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”

He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?

“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”

“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”

“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”

Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.

Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…

“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.

Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –

And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.

“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”

“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”

Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.

He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –

She kissed him on the cheek.

All thought abruptly departed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”

At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”

“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?

He didn’t like that thought.

“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.

Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.

“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”

Jin Guangyao smiled again.

“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.

Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.

He was married.

To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.

“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.

Who would want to live there?

“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.

He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.

“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”

“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”

Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.

More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.

“Yes,” he said. “What about him?”

He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.

Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.

“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”

Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”

“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”

“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”

“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”

“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.

“My brother is not a monster!”

“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”

“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”

“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”

It was his father.

Of course.

“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”

Jin Guangayo blinked at him.

Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.

“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”

Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?

The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.

Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.

“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”

Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.

“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”

“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”

He hesitated.

“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.

“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”

Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.

“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”

“I could go visit them for a while?”

Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”

“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”

“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.

“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”

“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”

“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”

“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.

“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”

“Wei Wuxian…!”

“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”

Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.

Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”

“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.

There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.

It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.

It was a good day.

All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.

#mdzs #jin zixuan #wei wuxian #mianmian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #my fic #my fics #right hand man

449 notes · View notes

sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years ago

Note

IDK if your taking requests 🥺👉👈 But if it's open... Could you maybe write an imagine with chishiya, where Niragi trys to get under his skin by making chishiya's s/o uncomfortable 😱

Cruel Entertainment | Shuntaro Chishiya (ft. Suguru Niragi)

{AIB Masterlist}

Summary: Niragi scares you and Chishiya gets defensive

Warnings(s): murder, blood, threatening, swearing, Niragi being a murderous bastard (as usual)

Word Count: 1.8k

*reader is gender-neutral

(A/N): this went down a more different plot than this, but this scenario is a element of it

“Look I don’t mean to complain, but this seems really unnecessary,”

All eyes in the meeting room turned to your figure sitting on the edge of the table. The silence that followed your statement felt personal, making you frown slightly at the annoyed faces that the militants seemed to hold.

Aguni had suggested the executives and the militants comes together for a meeting in order to discuss moving some militants up further on the number tags.

“How is this unnecessary Y/N?” Aguni spoke up, leaning forward on the table and resting his arms. His dead eyes met yours down the other head of the table, making you grow slightly nervous at the number of eyes that were on you.

Before you spoke up, your eyes flickered towards that of Chishiya’s, your boyfriend. When he caught your glance, he lifted a subtle hand to his throat and gave a gesture to tell you to be quiet.

Ever since Hatter had died and Aguni had taken over, your right to speak your mind had been diminishing, but you weren’t going to give it up as easy as the others seemed to have.

You gulped before turning back to Aguni, deciding to ignore Chishiya’s advice. If no one else had the tits to say something, then you would.

“Why are you moving your militants to a higher ranking? Everything was going fine until you came into power,” you started, keeping a stoic expression on that heavily contradicted your inner emotions.

Aguni raised an eyebrow and looked towards the right side of the table, where his second in command Niragi sat. The imperious man smirked at cocked an eyebrow at your words, making you feel uneasy.

“Is that so?” Aguni spoke in a creepily deep tone and leant back from the table, resting in his chair.

You nodded, keeping eye contact. “Don’t listen to me or whatever Aguni, but we don’t exactly know what will happen when we collect all the cards. I know you’d hate to admit it, but I think moving the numbers for your murderous ‘besties’ so they can escape the Borderlands quicker isn’t your intention here.”

You swore you were suffocating on the air in the room. You could smell the tension between your words and the rest of the executives. It was making Chishiya’s leg shake underneath the table and his eyes roll into the back of his head at your naiveness.

Furthermore, without your knowledge, to Niragi, your forehead seemed like a perfect target at that moment.

“Y-you know, Y/N has a point,” a young girl voiced up, making all eyes shift off of you for a quick moment. She sat a few seats down, holding her head slightly low and speaking in a quiet voice. “Perhaps we should vote on things rather than just immediately putting them in place though. If we do that, The Beach would be more democratic.”

You silently thanked her in your head and turned back to Aguni, but his stoic expression didn’t seem to change.

“Alright,” he said casually as he stood up. Looking over the table and the people at it, all silent, he spoke up. “Anyone that agrees with Y/N, raise your hand high.”

You glanced around the table with a slightly desperate look in your eye, hoping at least someone put their hand up. After a few tense seconds, the young girl who spoke put her hand up, followed by a middle-aged man sitting to the right of you and a few others.

You looked at Chishiya, not knowing what to do. He had himself tucked further in his white hoodie, hair hiding his eyes and trying to look as invisible as possible. He gave you a warning stare, shaking his head ‘no’ towards you.

You frowned, confused that he wasn’t contributing. Usually, he wouldn’t hesitate to stir some drama up between the executives and the militants, so it was out of character for him.

Furthermore, the lack of agreements from other executives like Ann and Mira was throwing you off. Knowing their good nature, they wouldn’t allow everything that Hatter had built to suddenly fall to murderous men. They kept their heads low, just like Chishiya, playing with their hands and trying to be as uninvolved as possible.

And soon enough, you realised why.

“Fine,” Aguni said, eyeing the four people that put their hand up in favour of you. You didn’t know too many of them personally, as they hadn’t been at The Beach for long. They were either high ranking players or random contributors to the executives.

“Niragi?” Aguni said, nodding towards the tall male.

Niragi hummed in acknowledgment and stood up quickly, not wasting a second before aiming his rifle towards the young girl and firing.

The blast of blood that fell onto your face made you freeze, realising what you had done.

“WAIT!” you screamed, standing from your seat and screaming towards Niragi. But your cry did nothing as he turned towards the man next to you and fired once again.

You ducked in fear that he was aiming at you, falling to the floor. The sound of bullet meeting bone filled your ear, and you glanced to the side to see the limp body of the man, eyes wide and hole in his bloodied forehead.

The rest of the people that voted in your favour had either dropped their head to the table in defeat or had done the same as you and fallen to the ground to hide behind the table, but Niragi stopped firing once he was sure the man was dead.

You stood from the ground and sat back down in your chair, eyes wide and breathing heavy. You could feel your heartbeat in your head, and your hands shook violently. You attempted to hide it by lacing your fingers together and squeezing, placing them on the table.

You didn’t dare look towards Aguni but glanced towards Chishiya towards the other end. He held wide eyes and shaking hands, staring at you and putting his index finger to his lips in a gesture to make you stay quiet. You nodded lightly.

Niragi let out a loud laugh and stepped out from around his chair, making his way towards you down the end of the table. You didn’t dare move.

“See what happens when you speak your mind!” he exclaimed, coming up behind you and placing a harsh hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the sudden impact and your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

Not being impressed by your lack of reaction, Niragi gripped your hair and pulled your head back so you made eye contact with him. He leant forward over you, looking you dead in the eyes as you yelped from his harsh hold on you.

“Maybe, you should learn to shut the fuck up for once kitten,” he growled into your face, making you cringe from his hot breath on your skin. “That mouth of yours could get you in a lot of trouble.”

Chishiya shook in his seat, hand gripping the end of the table harshly at the sight of his S/O getting tormented. A million thoughts were racing through his mind, trying to think of something that he could do to help you but not endanger anyone else.

He looked towards Niragi, noticing the dark-haired man’s eyes flicker towards him from you. Just as he did so, he noticed Niragi running a hand down the side of your neck, making you flinch heavily. The humiliation of this happening in front of your peers was unbearable, more so in front of Chishiya.

“Niragi,” the blonde stood up, having had enough. Niragi pulled himself away from you, looking towards Chishiya’s tense body with a smirk on his face.

“It’s okay, you can leave them alone,” Chishiya said with a monotone tone, trying to seem calm. “They’ve learnt their lesson.”

The mere sight of seeing the murderous man near you was enough to make Chishiya’s heart rate quicken. Although he doesn’t seem it, he’s a very nervous person, especially when it came to your safety.

Niragi doesn’t move, contemplating what he should do as he kept a firm grip on your shoulder. You were frozen beneath him, wincing at the growing strength he was applying to your collarbones.

He let go, allowing you to let out a large breath. “Fine, save your little toy then Shuntaro,” he grumbled in annoyance and moving back to his seat. He knew that if he had a bigger scene than it already was in front of Aguni, he could perhaps lose his control as second-in-command.

You held your head down in humiliation, not daring to look up for the rest of the meeting, not even towards Chishiya, who was trying to get your attention to check that you were okay. After that shit-show, you made sure not to attract unwanted attention.

After the meeting, you didn’t even get a chance to stand up properly before Chishiya grabbed your hand and dragged you out into the hall. He pulled you towards an open balcony to escape anyone else that was around before turning around and facing you.

“Let me see you,” he demanded, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Your neck. Did he hurt you?” he asked frantically while pushing your chin up to look at the skin on your neck to see if there were any bruises. You shook your head and pushed his hands away.

“I’m fine Chishiya,” you insisted. But the way that you stared at the ground wasn’t convincing.

“...I killed them... didn’t I?” you croaked out, fiddling with the skin of your hands. The blood from the two innocent people Niragi had murdered was stained along your skin, making you feel physically sick. You almost wished Niragi had just shot you instead of the other two. It was you who spoke up anyway.

Chishiya sighed heavily and brought his hand to your face, holding your cheek in his palm. You felt slight tears run down your face, causing you to quickly wipe them away.

“Y/N, people are always going to die. You can’t stop it,” he said, running his thumb across your cheekbone. “That wasn’t your fault. They had the choice to not put their hand up.”

You nodded, trying to convince yourself it’s not your fault.

“But for now, we need to focus on our own safety,” Chishiya said, making you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes. “We need to make sure we’re prepared to leave if any of the militants come after us within the next few days.”

Chishiya held your face in both of his hands and brought your lips together for a quick kiss, making more tears fall from your face at the comforting feeling of his warmth.

When he pulled away, he gave a sad smile and pulled you in for a hug, tucking your face into his shoulder by pushing on your head. “Make sure you stay by my side. Don’t worry, I won’t let Niragi get anywhere near you.”

(A/N): I’m sorryyyyy i know this isn’t that good. i rly need to rewatch some aib again cause it’s been ages since i last watched anything from it alsjldkajslja

730 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

Text

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

706 notes · View notes