#if she's even aware of it because she basically got drunk and went too far

[ronqueesha]

Just sitting here thinking to myself on this thursday evening.

Iona has never intentionally killed anyone with her fangs, but she’s technically responsible for at least one death. 

Since she is a dhampir, she does not need blood to survive. But still, she has a vampire’s craving for it, finds blood irresistibly tasty, and can over-indulge to the point she develops symptoms similar to being blackout drunk. Including the inevitable fountain of red vomit if she’s not careful. For her, drinking blood is entirely for the pleasure, and she even gets off on the act of piercing skin with her teeth and lapping fresh hot blood from people’s veins.

For the most part, she can control herself when she does this. Her literal lust for blood can be quelled by satisfying her other lust, and the conclusion of a fun night with a client who paid for a “vampire experience” with her.

99% of the time, Iona walked away with a full belly and some slurred speech and staggered steps just as if she had guzzled down a half dozen beers. And her client walked out with a bandage on their neck and a dizzy feeling that would eventually pass as their body replaced the blood Iona took.

But there was at least one time in her past when she over-indulged on a client that she didn’t know had hemophilia. They were one of her prized rich “conquests”, people with more money than sense, who paid a premium for Iona to come into their private bedroom for a safe night of vampire sex to indulge the dark fantasies they read about in their expensive books.

Since her paying partner did not have a normal flow of blood, Iona naturally over-indulged as the wound she sensually pierced into their neck continued to bleed. And bleed. And bleed. Iona would not have noticed them going weak as her senses dulled and all she cared about was the pleasurable sensations in her throat and between her legs.

And when she had her fill later in the night, her mind foggy and her movements slowed by the blood drunk haze, she would have simply congratulated herself on a job well done. While her (for lack of a better term) victim breathed slowly and remained still, as if they had been fucked so well that they were just as exhausted and satisfied as she was. And so she’d slip out of the window like she had been paid to do, like a vampire skulking off into the night, unaware she had just left someone to bleed out on expensive sheets in the middle of their own home.

Iona didn’t even know she had done this, as her wandering lifestyle meant she left that city just as the investigations into the murder began to take place. But even then, the client had paid for a night of raunchy sex that looked exactly like a vampire attack. So she never faced any real consequences for this, as all of the attention went toward defending the town from a non-existent threat.

#pathfinder #iona #i like the idea that iona may or may not even feel guilty for this #if she's even aware of it because she basically got drunk and went too far

[whaledenwtf]

Vegeta x Reader -

Hihi!! The last fanfiction I wrote was the Kratos x Reader. I love Vegeta, so I'm writing a fanfiction. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 here: Link Enjoy this Smut-fest.

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Choking, Dom/Sub dynamic, Use of Pet names/Nicknames, Praise and Degradation, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Fighting, Blood, etc. Porn with Plot, basically 

Vegeta is also a little OOC, especially after seggs, so warning for that too!

WORD COUNT: 6197 Words (Jesus Christ)

Hope you enjoy this story ~

It had been probably, the WORST week of your life. You got evicted because your landlord ended your lease - can landlords even do that? what a dick, you thought to yourself. That, plus the massive training block you've been experiencing AND the fact you had just ended the worst date have really made you crave a night of forgetting everything. You're so grateful for alcohol and Bulma. Both were incredible distractions and can help you forget everything.

"Thanks again for letting my stay here until I could get back up on my feet." You tell her after taking a sip of your rum and coke. She waves you off, lifting her feet up onto the couch, tucking them under herself and getting comfortable.

"(Y/N), I'm serious when I say you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. You don't understand how much I need a friend in this house." You giggle.

"What do you mean?" Bulma groans, and takes a massive gulp of her vodka sprite.

"My parents... are my parents-" That, you could understand. They are a handful. "And Vegeta's always been a pain in my ass. Especially since I got back with Yamcha-" You almost spit out your drink.

"WHAT?!?!" You gasp out loud, before whispering, as if you were conspiring. "Since when? What happened to 'working things out' with Vegeta?" You were curious, as she went on and on... and on and on about fixing things with Vegeta for the sake of Trunks.

"I mean, there's definitely love for him as the father of my son. But that love can only get me so far. We understand that we aren't meant to last. Plus Yamcha has gotten better at communicating his feelings and his wants. He's definitely not the same person who cheated on me years ago." Bulma stated matter-of-factly. You furrow your brows.

"So why's Vegeta still live here?" Bulma takes a sip of her drink and ponders her response.

"Well... At the beginning it was because I would miss him too hard, and I couldn't imagine a world without him in it. Now, its partially because of Trunks, and partially because-" She leans in close, and whispers in your ear. "I feel bad for him. He really only has Trunks now..." She bites her lip as she moves back to her spot.

"He'll find someone. He's... very attractive and sets his mind to things and sticks to it. I mean, sure, his pride is his greatest weakness, but he definitely has more pros than cons, especially now." You always found Vegeta attractive, but that was a given. Both Saiyans (and Broly, when you think about it) are very attractive beings. You wonder if its Saiyan genetics that make such handsome men, or if it really is just pure luck.

"Ou~" Bulma purrs. "Want me to set you two up? I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He can already tolerate you and has complimented your strength-" Your eyes widen.

"What has he said?" You lean in, excited. Bulma smirks knowingly.

"Maybe this planet isn't doomed after all." She puts on her best Vegeta impression, which makes you giggle.

You spend the rest of the night chatting and getting drunk with Bulma, by the time you both head to bed, its almost 3 am. You stumble through the halls, bumping into different doors. You open your bedroom door, and walk to your bed. When you collapse, your eyes are closed and notice that your bed is warm... and hard?

"Woman! Is there a reason you're in my bedroom? It's 3 AM, some of us train around here." You snuggle deeper into the mass.

"S-ry 'Geta. M'drunk." You slur out, with zero environmental awareness.

"GO IN YOUR OWN ROOM!" He whisper yells, trying to push you off. You whine, cuddling your face into his neck and inhaling. He instantly freezes up, and you feel heat pool up his neck towards his face. Eyes still closed, you smile softly.

"Mmm... smell good." You lay your face directly on his pulse point, blissfully unaware of the speedy pitter-patter of the Saiyan's heart.

"Woman-" He whisper-yells. "Please get out of my room." His voice is pleading, and your mind seems to begin feeling guilt.

"Can't. Can't walk. 'M too drnk." You whisper into his neck sadly, sniffling as tears spring to your eyes. Your body was vulnerable, especially so under the effects of alcohol, and Vegeta feels concerned. On the one hand, he is uncomfortable with physical touch, but on the other, the way your breath hits his pulse point has brought his Saiyan instincts out, and he does not want to take advantage of one of the only women in his life who finds him tolerable- semi tolerable? he thinks to himself. He sighs.

"Lemme carry you then." You hum.

"Thank you, Princey." You leave a small peck on his neck. Insignificant to you, probably, but meant too much to Vegeta. From his limited understanding of Earthlings and their tolerance to alcohol, it lowered inhibitions, but also could bring out instincts. Do you trust him? That question unloads a can of worms in Vegeta's head, as he lifts you in a bridal carry and walks towards your room, which is a short walk from his door. Despite this, it feels like centuries. He watches your face as you slowly fall asleep to the rocking of his movement as he carries you. What if you DID trust him? Vegeta knows he is not a good man, perfectly shown through his relationship with Bulma, or lack of. He couldn't keep a woman, who, he would never admit, helped him through a lot and even gave him a son. A son he hasn't even taken care of much! Vegeta's brow furrows and he stops walking in the middle of the hallway, which stirs you from your light slumber.

"'Geta?" You ask him confused, still drunk. He looks into your eyes, and can't help but admire their colour.

"Almost there-" He whispers softly. You gaze at his face, before reaching a hand to his forehead. The soft touch to his face makes his eyes widen.

"You should smile more. You're handsome when you do." You whisper, before your hand falls from his forehead, and lingers on his cheek, holding him softly. Vegeta's brow unfurrows, as he watches you. He then walks you to your room, and prepares to leave you at the door.

"Tha-nk y-ouuu 'Geta." He helps you out of his arms so you could land on your legs, though you did so a little unstable. You kiss his cheek quickly, and giggle before opening and closing the door behind you. Vegeta is stunned in place, holding the cheek you kissed as a raging blush flushes his entire body.

"Ugh, my head." You groan as you walk into the kitchen, where Vegeta and Bulma are bickering.

"Yeah I'm in pain too. Wish I could use a Senzu bean-" Bulma jokes, but Vegeta cuts her off.

"What a stupid use of a Senzu bean. You'd be wasting it to get through something ridiculous." He bites at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"Normally, I'd fight you, but I'm in too much pain and care too little about your opinion." You wince, and can tell those words hurt Vegeta a little, no matter how much he hides it.

"Woah Bulma, 'ts a little much. Let's all just have coffee, breakfast, and then we'll all feel better." You speak up as you walk past Vegeta, brushing his shoulder with your hand as a sign of respect, and defense. Vegeta looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you raise one side of your lip slightly, smirking at him. You loved Bulma, but sometimes she says things she regrets, especially when hungover. She groans.

"Coffee sounds great." You giggle, as you make coffee for you three. You pass everyone a mug, and take a sip and sigh into the warm mug.

"I'll make us breakfast. What do you want, Vegeta?" You ask, looking at him over the rim of the mug. Bulma raises a brow.

"Why are you asking him?" You hum looking at her.

"Cause he's gonna be eating the most portions. I'm already making eggs and bacon, but he'll probably want something else, right 'Geta?" Your eyes switch from Bulma to Vegeta, and you can see the tips of his ears blushing, before he crosses his arms and turns to look away from you.

"Tch. Make me three steaks on the side, woman!" You roll your eyes at Bulma, who chuckles.

"All right, your highness. I'll make them rare and also feed them to you?" He smirks at that.

"Finally, someone who can understand the worth of a Prince-" Bulma rolls her eyes.

"Being the prince of 3 people is like calling me the queen of nothing." Vegeta's head snaps to her, and he growls.

"What a fitting title for someone who brings nothing to my life-" Bulma's eyebrows raise, and so do yours.

"Okay Vegeta, let's calm down~" You hold his shoulder, and rub it, eyes widening as you can see his hair flicker between blonde and brunette quickly.

"Tch. She's insufferable!" He cries out, effectively calming himself down.

"You're BOTH insufferable, actually. Both of you need to fucking relax." You tried not to swear often, but they were annoying you. Both of them shut up, eyes wide.

"I'm gonna finish cooking, we are going to eat calmly and quietly, and then I can go train for a bit before I-" You're taking the bacon out of the oven when your phone rings, and Vegeta grabs it for you.

"Who's calling?" You ask him as you grab the device from his thick hand.

"Tinder James? What kind of a first name is Tinder?" Vegeta raises a brow and you cough, eyes wide.

"He's calling you back?! PUT HIM ON SPEAKER." Bulma shouts, excited. You roll your eyes, but answer and put him on speaker while you cook.

"(Y/N) here." You respond.

"Hey sweetheart. Sorry I had to cut our date short yesterday, you know how it is haha-" You roll your eyes as Bulma mimics the movement of vomiting. Vegeta stays silent, watching your face. You had a date yesterday? He's upset at this information, but would never tell you that.

"Its fine-" You start to respond. "I mean, if you wanna continue the date tonight I'm game." He cuts you off.

"Continue... our date?" You ask confused.

"Yeah? I didn't hit so I thought you'd want me to hit it-" Both you and Bulma actually guffaw at that.

"Something funny?" He asks confused.

"Listen here, sweetheart-" You start sarcastically "You weren't gonna hit. You spent the whole date checking your phone and texting. I'm not stupid and I'm not someone who you can push around. We aren't gonna fuck, so stick your dick elsewhere. Oh! And delete my number." You hang up before blocking the number, turning to grin at Bulma. She laughs and high-fives you after you turn off the stove-top, eggs ready. You pile the eggs and bacon onto plates and get going on the steaks while handing the plates of food to Bulma and Vegeta. They start eating, and by the time you finish the steaks, Vegeta has finished his portions.

"Here you go." You hand the pile of steaks to him, and eat your meal. He doesn't touch his food, and looks at you expectantly. He harrumphs to get your attention.

"Yes?" He raises a brow.

"Why aren't you feeding me?" You laugh in his face. You pick up a piece of bacon from your plate before shoving it in his mouth. He choke on it, eyes wide looking at you.

"Eat your damn steaks." You tell him as you shovel eggs into your mouth and wink at him. Bulma laughs at him, as she picks up the empty plates and puts them in the dishwasher. Vegeta stays quiet and starts to eat his steaks, but you can see that his hairline is flickering blonde, but he wears a small smirk on his face.

The next couple days you don't see Vegeta at all. Normally, it wouldn't affect you, but you felt... saddened by the lack of his presence.

You are walking past the Gravity Chamber when you hear a massive explosion, and shouting. You sprint towards the Chamber, worried.

"Stupid Earthlings and their stupid creations!" You smirk at the angry Saiyan, who is hugging a robot, his hair a dark blue.

"Cute look, Vegeta. Is she your new girlfriend?" You tease, smirking at him. He turns to looks at you, and the tips of his ears turn pink.

"Woman! How dare you joke about the Saiyan Prince and his taste in women?" He grumbles loudly, walking closer to you. His hair goes back to brunette, and you can't help but admire his handsome looks.

"It's okay Vegeta. I won't tell Bulma~" You say in a sing-song voice, winking at him. He drops the robot before crushing it with his feet. You raise an eyebrow and smirk at him.

"These ridiculous jokes must end! Where is the respect for royalty? An understanding of- of greatness?" He asks you, getting closer. You look up at him, and bite your lip.

"I apologize for my humour, my prince-" You tell him, as you curtesy. "I'll make sure to only sing my praises of your existence, your majesty." The tips of his ears are deepening into a dark blush, and his cheeks are also discolouring.

"That's more like it, woman! Though, Saiyans always greeted me on one knee-" you cut him off, grinning.

"You want to see me on my knees? Dirty prince." His whole face turns red, and you can feel his Ki rise significantly.

"Y-you vile woman! Such tactless behaviour- such a dishonourable sneak attack!" He stutters angrily, his eyes becoming a beautiful teal and his hair a vibrant blonde, once again. You giggle before rubbing his chest to calm him down.

"I'm only kidding 'Geets-" he grumbles looking away from you, face still flushed. He snaps out of Super Saiyan, and his blush lowers significantly. "Hey, wait a minute! Why don't we train together?" His head snaps back at you, intrigued.

"Why should I train with you?" He asks unkindly. You roll your eyes at his attitude.

"Well, for starters, your little playroom is broken-" his eyebrows furrow and he is reminded of his loss. "Secondly, I've had the worst training block in my life. I can't do anything right and having someone like you train with me will surely help!" He ponders this for a moment.

"Fine. But only because, as you put it, "my playroom is broken"." You smile at him, and grab his wrist to drag him to an open field far away from Bulma's ire.

"Tch. We could've flown here." He crosses his arms, raising a brow.

"Yeah, but sometimes walking through nature helps clear the mind, and prepares me for a battle." You say, as you roll your shoulder and stretch your body.

"C'mon Vegeta, I know you've said that I am a competent fighter-" Vegeta cuts you off angrily.

"Does that putrid woman share all my secrets?!" He goes back into Super Saiyan, getting into fighting position. You giggle as you also stance up.

"She's being harmless, 'Geta." He comes towards you first, fist almost breaking through your block.

"Jesus Vegeta. You need to slow down so the rest of us can catch up!" You huff out, faces close together. You blush as your eyes wander to his lips.

"I will never "slow down" so that a mere Earthling can catch up to the Prince of all Saiyans-" You punch his gut as he speaks, and he barely reacts to it, eyes widening. You aim a kick to his ribs, but he quickly grabs your calf, and spins you. You use your other foot to kick his sternum, and fly up in the air. You dodge and hit eachother, nothing that would really need a Senzu. Then you decide to up the stakes.

"I've been practicing this technique- CATASTROPHIC CANON-" [note: idk man im trying] A massive ball of red-hued Ki shoots towards Vegeta. In his mind, the move sounded idiotic, so surely he could handle its power. The ball then splits into three and hits him from all angles. He's never seen a move that did that! He was impressed, but it could be stronger.

"That was cute, woman! Let me show you a real show stopper- GALICK GUN!" You tried to dodge, but it was too late. Like a meteor, you crash into the ground under you, creating a crater around your body. Vegeta's eyes widen as he flies towards you, worried.

"Woman!" When you don't answer, he walks closer, concerned.

"Woman?-" Your eyes were closed, but your chest was still moving. "Y/N?" He's right next to you now. You grab his ankle, and flip him so you land on top of him. You sit on his lap, and hold his arms up over his head, panting loudly. Blood is dripping down a gash from your forehead, and he can't help but find you to be the most beautiful being he's ever seen.

"I-" You inhale. "Win-" exhale, looking deep into his eyes. He tries to break out of your hold, but you grip his wrists tightly, and he flinches.

"That was dirty!" Vegeta protests, blushing. You get closer to him, your breathes mingling.

"I'll make sure to play nicely next time, Prince Vegeta-" His lips catch yours in ah instant. Your lips mold to his perfectly, and the small moan you let out is not unnoticed by the Saiyan. Your grip on his wrists loosened, and he takes advantage of your vulnerability to flip you under him. Your thighs wrap around his small waist, and you pull him closer to you, grinding up to him.

Your open your mouth and you begin another battle. His tongue and yours lash against eachother, and you further explore his mouth, tracing your tongue over his teeth. Your tongue caresses over his canines, which were sharper because of his Alien heritage. You puncture yourself on them, and he moans out when a drop of your blood lands on his tongue. You pull away to look him, eyes wide.

"Please-p-please Vegeta." You whimper. He looks at you, panting slowly.

"Call me by my real title, sweetheart." You moan, pushing forward to kiss his neck. You lick up and down his pulse point. He moans into your hair, and you feel a rush of slick leave your body. He sniffs the air around you before groaning.

"I can smell you sweetheart-" You whimper into him, before licking up to the shell of his ear.

"Please Prince Vegeta. Please touch me." He pulls you up off the ground, still grinding into you softly.

"As you wish, princess-" He shoots off the ground, flying quickly back to Capsule Corp to continue what you had both started. As he flies through the skies, you continue to lick and kiss his neck, before biting down on junction between his neck and shoulder. He growls in your ear before pulling away to look into your eyes.

"Do that one more time and I'll make sure you can't ever walk again." His focus goes from one eye to the other, and you can't help the surge of need that flows through you from his attentiveness.

"That better be a promise, my prince-" Before you could end your sentence, he's already landed on his balcony, and has slammed the door open with his foot. He kicks the door shut behind him and lays you on the bed. He watches you for a moment, as you wriggle to lean on your elbows and look up at him.

"Why are you staring at me?" You ask curiously, a blush forming on the apples of your cheeks. He bites the fingertip of one of his gloves, pulling it off, before mirroring the action for his other hand.

"You remind me of the women from my planet-" You roll your eyes at him.

"Usually during sex, you don't tell the person you're about to sleep with they remind you of someone else." He barks a laugh at that, trailing his hands near your ankles, pulling off your shoes and working his way up your legs, caressing the muscles there.

"You're strong- physically and mentally. You're talented in many trades, multi-faceted. Powerful-" he begins to kiss his way up your torso, his warmth bleeding through your clothing. "Intelligent. Beautiful. Alluring. You have an air around you-" He cuts himself off then, having kissed his way up to your face and stopping.

"You possess much more than any of the women of this planet. You call to me in ways the people of my planet never did. You're much more than the sum of all these things together. I've always thought this." He murmurs as he looks into your eyes. He sees your eyes shine before you speak up.

"I've always admired your strength-" You begin to say as you caress his arms, before pulling his calloused hands towards your lips and kissing each fingertip, each scratch and mark that makes him, Vegeta. "You're much more than your physical prowess Vegeta. You're mental fortitude, after everything you've been through- continue to go through-" You exhale loudly. You hold his face in your hands.

"You are the ultimate warrior. You always compare yourself to Goku but in my eyes you will always be more than he is." You thought you saw his eyes water, but he burrows his face into your neck before taking a deep breathe.

"Princess, I need you. I've wanted to conquer this body like the thousands of planets I've conquered in the name of the Saiyan Army. I want to watch you quiver underneath me as I take everything you have to offer- and much more." He growls out, showing his teeth. You whimper, once again getting wet at his words. He plays you like an instrument- and he's the maestro. You quickly pull off your clothing until you are naked under him. He admires your body quietly, before looking into your eyes.

"Fuck me Vegeta. Breed me like I'm yours." He bites his lip looking at you.

"You already are mine. I'll make sure to mold your body to mine, woman-" You bite down on his neck, as a form of chastising him.

"Don't call me woman-" You warn him softly. He groans in your ear and his hands roam your curves. His fingers find the peaks of each breast, twisting and rubbing with the pads of his fingers. Your hands wander across the planes of his body that are still covered by his blue training gear.

"What should I call you, Y/N?" He asks you softly, before taking your right nipple in his mouth.

"F-Fuck Vegeta. Please call me yours, call m-me princess~" He groans at your words, his arousal showing through his clothes. "Show everyone who I belong to-" You never felt so dirty in your life; pleading for a man to call you his, never in your life could you imagine the submissive turn this took. You want to take control back, so you flip yourself back on top. He looks up at you, biting his lip.

"Such a good princess for me. Pleasing your Prince like a good girl~" You growl at that, grinding down hard into the clear outline of his heavy cock. You begin to tug on the collar of his training gear.

"I'm gonna rip this off of you and ride you. I wanna be a good girl for my Prince." He smirks at that, before his eyes widen at the ripping sound his gear makes. You pull the tattered fabric off his body, nails lightly scraping the surface of his skin.

"So handsome, and strong. Perfect for protecting me~" You whisper in a sing sing voice, before kissing down his body. You start from his lips and work your way down. You can tell your bites and hickeys are already mostly healed, so you leave a couple more before kissing his pecs and lavishing his nipples in attention. He covers his mouth to muffle a moan, as he squeezes his eyes shut.

"Don't shy away from me now Vegeta. Let me hear you." You tell him, pulling his arm away. He pants at you, eyes wide.

"T-these damn sneak attacks!" You grin at his words.

"I'll show you a sneak attack-" You begin the sentence, before gripping his cock in your hand. Its girth is unimaginable, your hand barely closing around it. His length is above average, and you could already tell you would spend many days worshiping his cock if you could.

You slowly thrust your fist up and down his length, watching how his cock pulsed under your hand. You could tell there was something peculiar about it, like the small ridges near the head and the particularly thick vein on the underside. Your other hand goes to his balls, which seemed to have already been straining for attention.

He whimpers as you touch him, but swears as soon as your tongue touches his slit.

"Fuck~ just like that princess-" You moan around his cock, taking the head into your mouth and giving it small sucks and kitten licks.

"Such a good little Earth whore for her Saiyan Prince- f-fuck. Can't wait to fill you with my royal seed." You didn't realize Vegeta was so vocal during sex. You pull your mouth off him and sit on your haunches, slowly stroking your up and down his cock.

"W-why'd you stop?" He asks angrily, hair flicking to blonde for a moment. You hover over his body, before grinning.

"Let's put that mouth to good use-" You sit on his face looking down at him. You hear him inhale through his nose deeply, before he looks up at you, lust prominent in his eyes. You bite your lip before tugging on his hair, and in a moment his fingers latch onto your thighs, and his tongue takes a wide lick up your slit. You look into his eyes to see him staring at your face. His tongue continues to take wide licks, before it enters inside your pussy. He licks up the juice that leaks out of you, groaning under you. You moan out his name as he does so, and hear him muttering under you.

"Taste so good for your Prince. Such a good girl-" You moan out loud, before you have to use your left hand to hold yourself up. You stretch your right arm behind you, and grip his cock, before giving him a sloppy handjob. He grunts under you, before unhooking his left hand from your thighs and spreading you open. You caterwaul when his tongue finds your clit, swirling and giving it attention while he lets his thick middle finger stretch you out by entering in and out of you slowly.

"F-Fuck Vegeta." You knew you were being too loud, and were worried about an audience outside the door.

"That's right princess. Tell everyone who this pussy belongs too." The slurping noise he makes is whorish, and your mind instantly clears of all thought.

"Fuck-fuck-FUCK!" You begin to grind on his face, slick leaving you in waves.

"That's right Y/N. Tell me what you want-" He enters a second finger inside of you, the stretch delicious.

"Want to cum- need to cum so badly Vegeta! Please please please-" You beg him, your hand and body moving in tandem with one another.

"Gonna make this pretty pussy cum all over my tongue-" He mutters, grinning. You look down and see the predatory look in his eyes.

"Please Daddy- please let me cum~" You're just blabbing random words, brain short circuiting at the intense pleasure between the apex of your thighs.

"Daddy?" He grunts at that.

"Want me to be your daddy?" You don't answer him right away, but he gets a response out of you when he takes his mouth away from your pussy and bites down on the side of your thigh, canines breaking skin. You groan in pain, the pleasure being elevated by his roughness.

"Answer me princess." He demands, fingers still entering and exiting your body languidly.

"Y-yes Vegeta. Be my Daddy, my Prince. F-fuck. Just let me cum!" You beg him, tears in your eyes at the edging Vegeta put you through.

"What a good girl. Such a good girl for daddy-" His lips latch onto your little pearl, sucking and licking, with his canines bumping into the sensitive bundle of nerves. The attention serves to be too much, and your sight goes white. You cum on his face, but more than that you squirt a little. He continues to suck on your pussy, the twitching and wailing from the body above him not stopping his actions.

He licks up your mess, enjoying that all his senses are surrounded by you. When your body goes lax he releases you, laying you under him to continue his caressing and kissing on your body. He pays particular attention to the junction of your neck, where he leaves a deep bite. The bite snaps you out of your euphoric ride, eyes widened at the sudden pain. You must've made too much noise, because Vegeta covers your mouth with his hand, as he licks up the mark. You can already feel the skin begin to mend itself, as his Saiyan saliva speeds the healing process. His hand releases your mouth when you're no longer whimpering in pain.

"Now everyone will know who you belong to-" He grunts at you, his hands caressing your torso and the undersides of your breasts. You look into his eyes, panting at his attention.

"Fuck me." You tell him, touching him on his forearm. He grins at you, sharp canines stained with your blood.

"Excuse me?" He asks you, acting galled at your words. Without answering him, you push him to sit on his haunches between your thighs. As you do so, his eyes wander your body, his tongue reaching out between the seam of his lips to lick them. Your hand trails down your body, and as you begin to pant with need, you spread your pussy open, and his eyes widen at the sight of your slick leaking out.

"Fuck me, Saiyan." Your voice was authoritative, and without warning, Vegeta growls and pulls your thighs closer to him.

"With pleasure, princess." He pushes your legs all the way down, your knees bumping into your shoulders. You grab your legs by the backs of your knees, and he takes his cock in his hand and strokes your pussy. When his tip would bump into your clit you'd moan loudly and he'd chuckle at you, breathless.

"Look at you; your crumbling resolve left you cock hungry for the Prince of all Saiyans." He begins to push himself into you, the stretch of his cock nothing like the stretch from his fingers. You find yourself flinching at the intrusion, and Vegeta notices. He pushes himself all the way in slowly, before putting you both into a mating press. Your nipples were sensitive dragging against his chest. He looks into your eyes and whispers.

"You're doing great, sweetheart. Such a good princess for daddy-" His hand snakes between your bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he begins to move. The minor pain from the girth of him begins to ebb away, and pleasure begins to take its place.

"F-fuck Vegeta. So b-big." He chuckles, before groaning.

"Princess. You're so fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pussy good. 'N make you squirt again." He mumbles out, words slurred by the feeling of your pussy squeezing him. You whimper at his words, beginning to grind into his cock as he moves.

"H-harder Daddy. Fuck me good. P-Please-" You beg, almost weeping with tears running down your cheeks. . He wipes your tears before using both hands to brace himself onto the bed.

"Anything for you." He says passionately. It struck a cord in you, the sincerity of his words making you gaze at him with love. The intensity of your coupling is one you've never experienced, and your body and soul feel overstimulated by everything Vegeta. His thrusts are strong, and your legs slip out of your hold as you grip the bedsheets under you, needing something to ground yourself.

Your legs wrap around his hips, and the heel of your foot bumps into the patch of fur at the small of his waist where his tail used to be. He moans out, his voice loud. You notice him blushing as he looks into your eyes. His thrusts go harder, and he grabs both your hands to lock his fingers with yours.

"Just like that princess- fuck." He grunts. You reach up to lock your lips together. Your bodies have become one at this point, with a feeling of oneness you had never felt in your life. You begin to purposefully rub the heel of your foot into the patch of fur, as you near your release. After a couple strokes of your foot, he shouts into your mouth, cumming into your pussy.

The twitching of his cock triggers your release, and you cum around his cock. You stay together for a moment, tongues languidly rubbing against eachother. He pulls away softly, panting. He begins to pull himself up, to watch where you are both connected. He groans again.

"Look at you princess. Creamed around my cock. Such a messy girl-" Your pussy twitches and he bites his lip. His eyes flicker teal for a moment.

"Don't tempt me to ravage you again, (Y/N)." You grin at him, acting coy.

"Sorry my Prince." He smiles softly at you, pushing hair away from your face. He then pulls out, and you whimper at the feeling of cum leaking out of you. He pushes his fingers into you, scooping up his seed and filling you back up.

"None of my seed should go to waste. You're the perfect mate." He growls possessively.

"Is that so?" You ask him. He nods. After a couple minutes of silence, he pulls his fingers out slowly, and you moan softly. He chuckles at the sound, before going into his bathroom. He closes the door for two minutes. You sigh, turning yourself so your laying on your side, leaning your head on your hand. You watch the door, eyebrows jumping when you hear a bang and a muffled "shit" through the door. Not a moment later, Vegeta leaves the bathroom with boxers on and a damp hand towel in his grip. He comes towards you, and slowly pulls you into his lap.

"What's all this?" You ask him softly, voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"After a Saiyan mating bite, the male is supposed to take care of the female. I'm going to clean you up and take care of you." His voice has mellowed out, with a softness which you haven't ever heard from Vegeta.

"Mating bite?" You ask curiously. Vegeta slowly wipes your neck, before moving to the apex of your thighs, cleaning your combines releases from you.

"Saiyans don't normally mate for life, but when we do we bite each other. Some scars, like mating bites, don't heal and we use them as markers of possession. Its to make sure female Saiyans don't get taken advantage of. It also helps mix our scents." You hum softly, eyes fluttering closed at his gentle strokes on your weak body.

"So I am yours?" You ask gently. He hums, before his other hand goes to stroke your hair.

"For life." Your eyes widen as you look at him. He looks nervously at your face. You pout and huff angrily. He flinches at your anger, and before he could apologize you cut him off.

"Well that's not fair. How am I supposed to mark you back?" His eyes widen.

"You're.. not upset at me?" You smile up at him, taking his cheek in your hand and rubbing it with your thumb.

"Out of all the people on this planet I'm the only one who can handle you most of the time. If that isn't an admission of love I really can't think of one-" You get pulled into a hug, and you hear him sigh sadly. You rub his back up and down.

"Listen Vegeta, I meant those words I said before. I really do admire you, and I do want to stick by your side. I mean, a warning would have been nice-" You say jokingly. He huffs a laugh. "But I really love being with you." You pull him away from you, and you see a small tear in his eye. You pull him forward and kiss his forehead.

"But never call me woman again!" You tell him warningly. He laughs out loud at that, and smiles widely.

"Alright, princess." You both lay back down, cuddling and spending the rest of your day in bed, ignoring the outside world.

END

---

BONUS:

"Vegeta isn't answering his phone-" Goku says worryingly to Bulma, who he bumped into while looking for the missing Saiyan.

"Yeah, he was busy." Bulma answers, before a full body shiver goes through her. Goku looks at her worried.

"Are you sick Bulma? And Vegeta knows we are training today-" Bulma snaps her fingers in his face.

"Goku, he's with (Y/N)." Goku looks at her confused.

"Are they training?" He asks innocently.

"Horizontally." Bulma says chuckling, before walking away. Goku looks down and thinks.

"Is that a better way to train?" He asks himself.

#vegeta x reader #vegeta x y/n #vegeta x you #dragon ball #Vegeta #Dragon #Ball

[seriouslysnape]

HIii! I was wondering if you could write something Fred (6th/7th year) x Gryffindor Reader (i know u dont usually write him) maybe something where reader and fred are best friends and shes in love with him but she thinks he dosent like her that way with a fuffy ending? maybe some angst not too much tho thank youuu <3 if you dont want to write fred (😭) you can write it for lupin (6th/7th year)

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His Favorite Girl

Fred Weasley x Gryffindor! Reader

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 3,430

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.”

__

The Gryffindor common room. An ever changing space for all Gryffindor students to unwind, study, or party, depending on the occasion. The common room was always crowded from wall to wall after a Quidditch match, especially when Gryffindor reigned victorious. The players all filed in, bursting with good energy and an itch to celebrate their win. Oliver Wood exploded inside first with an unmistakably beaming smile spreading across his face.

The Gryffindor students who hadn’t been able to make it to watch the match automatically knew that they had won based on Oliver’s visible jubilant mood. You were one of the unfortunate ones that hadn’t been able to make it, but you knew that the team would bring the party to you. The Weasley twins came bopping in next, George carrying a very happy Harry Potter on his shoulders. Harry leapt off of George’s shoulders before the tall twin could knock him into the top of the doorframe.

Your sights automatically set on the other Weasley twin. Fred was beaming with delight at their impressive win. Fred was damn proud to be a Gryffindor, and beating the brakes off of Slytherin was one of his favorite pastimes. He couldn’t be any happier at this moment. It warmed your heart to see him so joyful and full of glee.

You raked over his tall, slender yet muscular frame. His signature red hair was damp with sweat and parts of his face were caked with dirt.

Fred caught your stare, his smile never leaving his face as he gave you a friendly wink. You closed the Potions book in your lap, getting up from the sofa with a silent hope that your thumping heartbeat wasn’t obvious to anyone.

It was a hard thing to do. Keeping your ever growing crush and admiration for Fred Weasley under wraps was becoming more and more difficult as time went on. The seemingly simple solution (as all of your friends had told you) to do would be to “just tell him” how you felt. But it was MUCH easier said than done.

There were so many things that could possibly go wrong if you were to confess your feelings to Fred. You would be running the risk of ruining a beautiful friendship that had done nothing but blossom over the last seven years if he didn’t share that same admiration. You didn’t want to lose your best friend just because your heart felt differently than his.

At the same time, you wanted to tell him every scrap and ounce of how your soul felt lost without him. There had been a few times over the years where you had an opportunity to lay your heart out on the line for him. Each time you had this heavy feeling in your chest letting you know you needed to make a move.

You built up the courage each time, but were interrupted by George or another one of your friends before you could bite the bullet. You knew it wasn’t healthy to keep this holed away in yourself. Your love would only grow more. The more days that passed, the more you began to wonder how different your life would be if you never told him. Not to mention that graduation was only a few months away, and there was always the risk of losing contact with him when you went separate ways.

That is, IF you were to go separate ways.

On the other side of the coin, there was always a chance that Fred possibly did harbor the same admiration for you. That would totally change things in the long run. The idea of starting a romantic relationship, possibly getting married, and having a family was nothing short of perfect.

But you had to get to that point first.

Everyone rallied around Harry, shaking him excitedly and singing their praises to him for his incredible Snitch catch. Suddenly, blaring and thunderous chatter filled the common room as more exhilarated students piled in. Within the hour, a sea of Gryffindors occupied the room, complete with blasting music and an ungodly amount of alcohol.

Oliver had gathered a crowd of first years in one corner of the common room as he retold every solitary second of the match from his point of view, starting from the very beginning. The wide eyed first year wizards and witches were on the edge of their seats as they listened to his story, some of them beginning to wonder if they had what it took to be great Quidditch players.

On the other side of the room, you were settled once again on the sofa with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, who were seated in the arm chairs across from you. They were exhausted from playing all day, but that didn’t stop them from engaging in some girl talk.

Alicia and Katie were your dearest friends, and they were the only ones who knew about your crush on Fred. A crush that had quite honestly evolved into something much more. They were always keeping an ear out to see if Fred said anything remotely leading them to believe that he might like you back. As surprising as it was, Fred never really outwardly spoke about his romantic side.

Speaking of, Fred and George were in another corner of the room with Harry and Ron, doing God only knows what. Fred was considerably tipsy, but nothing even close to plastered. You had seen Fred drunk before, and needless to say, it was a hysterical sight.

“So, [Y/N],” Alicia spoke up, her dark skin looking extra glowy from the fire roaring in the fireplace; “Fred was awfully excited to come back to tell you that we won.”

Katie perked up, her head lifting from where it had been leaning on the back of the chair.

“Yeah! The first thing that he told George was that he couldn’t wait to tell you the news. Although, I guess Oliver kind of told everyone before Fred had the chance.”

“Really? He said that?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Alicia nodded vigorously, gripping Katie’s forearm with elation. Alicia and Katie had never tried to set the two of you up, mainly because you had begged them not to. That didn’t stop them from trying to be the ultimate wingwomen. They believed that you and Fred would be a stellar couple. They were convinced you were made for one another.

They both feared that you’d never make an attempt to make it happen.

“He sure did. I heard him myself.” Katie replied.

Alicia glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward closer to you. Her voice was quiet, loud enough so only you and Katie could hear as she spoke.

“Graduation is coming up quickly. You’ve got to tell him.” She advised.

You sighed heavily. If you had a galleon for every time one of them had told you that, you’d be a wealthy woman. They just didn’t seem to get that it just isn’t that easy. You wouldn’t deny that proclaiming your deepest secret to someone didn’t scare you. It was terrifying to offer your heart and soul to someone, even when you knew that they might get broken as a result. You didn’t want to live with a broken heart.

But you didn’t want to live always asking yourself “what if”.

Before you could respond, a figure plopped themself next to you, his familiar scent sending flutters all through you. Fred basically snuggled up next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Despite the fact that you weren’t dating, Fred was comfortable enough with you to get extremely close, which didn’t help your situation at all.

Alicia and Katie held down their snickers and giggles at how you were clearly flustered. You tried not to wriggle too much under Fred’s hold, and draw any attention to yourself. He was your best friend, and you knew how to play it cool when he was around.

“Hi, [Y/N].” Fred slurred loudly over the noise.

You laughed softly at the smell of Firewhiskey that was radiating off of him. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you’d have a drink with Fred from time to time.

“Hey, Fred. Congratulations on the match.” You complimented.

Fred grinned proudly, looking down at your slumped body. His eyes were beginning to glaze over from the alcohol, but he looked as sober as ever. He had a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify.

“Thanks. Those bloody Slytherins got what they deserved.” He stated.

“Oliver seems over the moon with how it went.” You remarked, smiling as you looked behind you to see Oliver now standing on a table as he continued telling his thrilling tale.

When you turned back to Fred, you couldn’t help but notice how Fred hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. The butterflies in your belly were going totally bananas now. His gaze did eventually shift to the Potions book that was placed next to your feet, and he let out a guttural sound. He reached for it, noting that it had obviously been put to good use in the last several hours.

“Have you been studying?” He questioned, holding the book in his hand.

You sheepishly nodded, aimlessly reaching for the textbook. An offended look crossed Fred’s face as he held the book far out of your reach. Damn his long arms.

“I have a test on Monday. Advanced Potions is kicking my ass this year and I’ve just barely been getting by so I have to study extra time.” You expressed, laughing at your fruitless attempt to get the book back.

His sharp jaw fell open a tad and he stretched back even further to ensure you didn’t get the book back for now.

“You’re kidding me. I missed my favorite girl at the match because she was stuck in the common room studying for a TEST?” He acquired, not even aware of the weight behind his choice of words.

You felt your smile fade into more of a bashful expression. Your body slinked back into the cushions, forgetting all about the book. His words rang in your word.

Favorite girl.

Fred Weasley’s favorite girl.

Alicia and Katie were both wide eyed and jaw dropped at what he had just said. They were looking back and forth between the two of you like they were at an intense tennis match.

Fred was so aloof and oblivious to the fact that he had literally just melted your heart with a single sentence. You spent so much time with Fred that you just didn’t understand how he couldn’t see it.

Fred knew you backwards and forwards. He could see straight through you when you were lying or when you were sad, but claiming you were fine. He always remembered your favorite treats from Honeydukes and how you liked hot Butterbeer on cold winter nights. It made him happy to hear you talk about your favorite Muggle novels or tell him about something funny that happened in McGonagall’s class. He knew you better than anyone.

But why couldn’t he see the way you were yearning for him?

“You missed me?” You asked, shrinking even further into the cushions.

Fred looked at you as if that were the dumbest question he had ever been graced with. He lowered his arm at your sudden demeanor change, gently putting the book in your hand. Alicia and Katie leaned in carefully, eager to see where this conversation was going. Much to their disappointment, Fred didn’t get a chance to answer due to another member joining you on the couch.

George landed less gracefully than Fred had, basically landing on top of you and smothering you. Your shrieks were muffled in George’s Quidditch robes, Fred wrestling his brother off of you.

“Hey! George, get off of her.” He grunted, heaving his brother’s very limp body off of you.

Alicia threw her hands up in defeat at the interruption, Katie falling back into her chair. So close, yet so far. You gasped for air as George fell on the open seat next to Fred. George was way further gone than Fred. He was barely even able to keep his eyes open, let alone get any real, complete thought across.

“Nice timing, George.” Katie said sarcastically.

You gave her a menacing look, not wanting her to bring it up. George snorted, and his sentence came out more as one incoherent word.

“Did I interrupt something important?” He heavily slurred between hiccups.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to George to ruin this for you. You were discouraged that your chance had been shot down once again, but it wasn’t George’s fault. You were just glad to see your friends in such high spirits. Soon enough, the rest of the party goers had crowded towards the center of the room where you were. The party raged on well into the night, a complete celebration with dancing, singing, and more drinking.

As easily as the party could’ve carried on and on, eventually the famed players’ exhaustion caught up with them and they all slowly dwindled down and sauntered off to their respective dorm rooms. You hugged Alicia and Katie goodnight, knowing they’d be passed out in their beds by the time you got up to your dorm room.

You spoke to Harry and Ron for a bit, giving Harry a friendly kiss on the top of his head for his winning catch. His pasty white cheeks went red as he and Ron retreated to their room in a fit of blushy giggles. That left just you and the twins in the common room that was now completely trashed. Empty cups and half spilled bottles of alcohol were scattered about, people even leaving behind some of their school stuff to be recollected in the morning.

George was a mumbling, intoxicated mess. He was close to falling asleep, and Fred wanted to get him to bed before he was completely unable to stand up. You’d be up for a while cleaning up the common room. You always hated leaving a room knowing it was messy, so you didn’t mind picking up after everyone. Fred knew you’d stay behind to clean up, but he didn’t want you to have to do it alone. He draped his babbling twin over his shoulders, grimacing at how George was usually heavier when he was drunk.

“I’m going to run George upstairs and then I’ll be back to lend you a hand.” He smiled, ignoring the things that George was trying to say to him.

“You don’t have to. I can handle it.” You said, tossing a handful of cups away.

“I know you can. I just don’t want you to be lonely is all.” He said, turning on his heel and marching up the boys’ dormitory stairs with George.

You felt a warm flush course through you at his words once more. You weren’t sure why you were extra sensitive to him tonight. Sure enough, Fred returned a few minutes later, almost stumbling into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. You both laughed as he gave a witty comment.

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.” He said, walking into the room once he steadied himself.

“Is George okay?” You asked, accepting the pile of empty bottles that Fred placed into your trash bag.

You usually hand cleaned for the first few minutes, but would eventually grow bored and cast a spell from your wand to finish the work. It was seldom that the common room was this quiet, so you liked to bask in the silence for a little after there was a party.

Fred scoffed with a nod.

“Oh, yeah. He’ll be fine. Nasty hangover in the morning, but there’s a potion for that.”

As usual, the two of you were tired of cleaning, so you waved your wand with a quick cleaning charm. You both watched in amazement as the trash and everything else whisked around the room into trash bins, leaving the room spotless. You put your wand in your back pocket with a satisfied hum. Usually, this would be the time where you went to bed, but you were getting that familiar heavy feeling in your chest.

It immediately dawned on you that you had a perfect chance here. No one was around, and no one would be around for more than enough time.

“You want to sit and chat for a bit?” Fred questioned, noticing your dazed look; “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

The fireplace was still occupied with a cozy warm fire, which was very inviting. You nodded, following Fred to the same couch you had been on earlier. The common room was beyond peaceful now, your head almost lulling onto Fred’s shoulder in relaxation.

Oddly enough, you weren’t freaked out now. In all the past times you had tried to do this, you were a jittery mess and could barely get a word out without stuttering. You felt so at ease now, as if this was something you did often. You hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol tonight, so you couldn’t blame it on that.

“So what’s up?” Fred questioned after you didn’t initiate a conversation.

He had unknowingly opened a door that you knew you had to take. It was now or never.

“I’m just thinking about some things.” You admitted.

Fred’s curiosity was sparked now. He was always interested and willing to hear what was going on in your mind.

“What kind of things?” He pressed on.

Your sights were set on the flames in front of you, causing you to miss the way that Fred was looking at you with such fondness and care. He was cherishing every passing second of this moment.

“You and me.” You confessed.

Fred was filling with anticipation, not sure where you were going with this. He raised a brow.

“What about us?” He replied.

You took a breath.

“Fred, what did you mean when you said I was your favorite girl?” You queried.

Fred looked into your eyes that were peering up at him in a puppy-like way. He noticed that you were expecting an answer. Fred, as confident as ever, responded with a voice like butter, his accent a little thicker.

“Because you’re my favorite person in the world.” He revealed.

Your heart caught in your throat and your breathing hitched. So far so good.

“I am?” You asked to confirm

Fred’s arm that was around you pulled you in closer. You were being flooded with such a sense of intimacy that it was overwhelming. Your nose was level with his chin, and you were so close to his face that you swore you could hear the blood flowing through his face. Fred knew what was happening now, and he was ecstatic about it. He had wanted you all along, but never knew how’d you’d react. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you off.

He thought about all the times he had seen you upset, and how it hurt him when you were pained with something. He always wished for nothing but happiness for you. He didn’t want to ruin things because of how he felt.

But now he was sure that you’d be here to stay.

“Absolutely you are. You’re all I ever think about.” He whispered, stroking your face with the side of his thumb that was wrapped around you.

This didn’t feel real, but felt all too real at the same time.

“Why are you whispering?” You smiled softly, whispering back to him.

He smirked, and whispered again.

“Because I want you to know how much I love you.”

A cannon of confetti seemingly exploded all throughout your body. Shock, desire, lust, love, want, everything went through you all at once. This wasn’t at all how you had imagined this happening, but you were happy that it did. It was very fitting for the two of you.

“Kiss me.” You whispered once more.

He lowered his head and his lips caught yours in a feverish way. All the pent up feelings from the last 6 years all loaded themselves into the kiss. It was a huge weight off of your shoulders.

“I love you,” You professed once Fred pulled away; “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to tell you that.”

Fred chuckled lightly, responding before kissing you again.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.”

#fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley fluff #Harry Potter #harry potter fred weasley #seriouslysnape

[xiaojusaur]

7 Minutes in Heaven

Pairing: Friends to Lovers! Hendery x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Comedy

Warnings: car sex, fingering, squirting, dirty talking, multiple orgasms, mentions of masturbation, mentions of alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 6K

Description: Hendery was the new guy in class who didn’t know how to talk English well, that’s how you first start talking and then became good friends. You had a crush on him, but he didn’t know. Everything changed at a frat party; you shouldn’t have played 7 minutes in heaven with your friend.

You were accustomed to arrive early to the classroom because there was a certain desk you liked, plus you didn’t like being either too close or too far to the professor. Sometimes you really didn’t feel like paying attention, and today was one of those days.

On the way, you met with your best friend, but you couldn’t enroll in the same classes this semester, so she had to leave quickly.

When you got to the classroom, there was a new face and he was sitting on your favorite place. The shock froze you in place, he hadn’t noticed you were there as he was writing something down on his notebook and his dark mane was covering his face.

You decided to be nice and just sit on the desk on his left. When he was aware of your presence, he turned his head to you, your eyes meeting when you raised your glance. You smiled and he smiled back. He was cute. You both kept quiet until the rest of the classmates and the professor arrived.

“Class! We have a new student with us! Hendery, please say hello!” Your professor introduced the new guy to your right. He waved shyly. “Please be patient with him, he doesn’t know much English. He came all the way from Macau. If you guys see him struggling, please give him a hand,” your professor continued.

So that’s why he was so silent! He seemed so nice and you having a lot of empathy, could feel he was feeling anxious. It must’ve been hard not being able to communicate well.

The class continued and you were distracted with the fact that maybe Hendery couldn’t understand well what was being discussed. He looked so focused, you didn’t dare to interrupt him because maybe he was trying to do his best. So you waited for the class to be over and when he was about to leave, you stopped him.

“Hey, wait a minute!” You whisper-shouted.

He turned around and his face seemed to light up.

“Are you okay? Did you understand the class?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I tried my best,” he shrugged and then giggled.

You giggled with him and then said, “If you ever need help to understand something, just ask me, okay?”

“Alright! Thank you!” He seemed genuinely happy that you were willing to help him.

“Do you know anyone around?” you didn’t want him to be alone.

“Yeah, I have a friend. I will meet him now to get lunch,” he explained.

“That’s good!” You nodded.

“Do you want to join us?” He asked you.

“That’s alright! I’ll meet with my best friend too,” you answered.

“Oh okay, see you later then,” he was about to leave when he remembered he didn’t know your name. “Oh! Wait! What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you smiled to him one last time before he nodded and left.

The months went on like that. Hendery occasionally came for help, he liked teaming up with your for group projects, and he even invited you to lunch a few times. You liked spending time together and slowly, he merged into your group of friends, bringing his group of friends also.

His English got better and better, he was almost and expert, even though he had a cute accent.

You found yourself having a huge crush on him, but you swore you would never tell him. For you, he was way out of your league, you weren’t his type, and you didn’t even know about his language, though he had tried several times to teach you some words and expressions.

“Hey!” He arrived to your apartment without notice to find you curled up in your sofa watching a movie.

“Hi! What’s up?” You said while checking your phone to see if he had texted you, finding an empty screen.

“So, tonight’s there’s this frat party from the frat house Yangyang is in, do you maybe wanna go?” He then smiled widely, trying to convince you.

“I don’t know... I’m not in the mood for partying today,” you replied while cuddling the cushion.

“Come onnn!” He flopped by your side on the couch, “Lyndsey is gonna be there! She’s gonna stalk me the whole night!” He groaned.

“Well, that’s your own fault! You dicked her down and she got addicted,” you shrugged, laughing at him later.

“Hey! I was in need!” He explained unnecessarily.

“You guys can’t last a week without pussy, that’s sad, you know,” you were mocking him.

“It’s in our nature, what can we do? Plus, how long has it been since you got laid?” He was smirking, trying to make fun of you.

“Shut up,” you pushed him playfully.

“So come on!!!! Let’s go to the frat party!” He started shaking you by the arm.

“Alright! Alright! Ugh! You’re so annoying!” You jumped to your feet and went to your room to change, your quick choice being a pair of jeans, a turtleneck shirt, a bomber college jacket, and some sneakers. You texted your best friend.

Hey! Are you going to that frat party?

Idk... are you?

Dery is making me go. Something about Lyndsey and stuff

Sucks. I can accompany you

Please! It’s possible he finds someone else and leaves me alone there surrounded by strangers

Fine, I’ll throw something on and see you there.

You got out of your room and Hendery was there, laying back on the couch while watching the TV. He looked so cute. You couldn’t believe you had a crush on him and he hadn’t noticed.

“We’re ready to go,” you announced and he looked at you from head to toe and back up. He catcalled you as a joke, “Look at my bestie gooo! She’s gonna seduce some men!”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Fine, let’s go!”

At the party, you met with your best friend while Hendery went with his friends. Everyone was wilding, playing beer pong, dancing, drinking, making out on the corners.

You stayed by your friend’s side, dancing and drinking. Hendery found you in the crowd and started dancing with you too, after all, you were that comfortable with each other. He grabbed your hips and was grinding on you while you followed his hips. When the song finished he said he was gonna get more alcohol while you ran to your best friend again.

“Are you not gonna tell him ever?” She asked you, talking about your huge crush in Hendery.

“I don’t think I will. I mean, we’re okay as we are,” you shrugged. You didn’t want to lose his friendship and you thought that if you told him, everything would turn awkward, so you just decided to keep it to yourself.

As the night went by, people started to get sleepy, some passing out on the couches, others disappeared who knows where. Only a few were still alive and among them were Hendery, your friend, the infamous Lyndsey, and you. Someone had the bright idea of playing 7 minutes in heaven just for the sake of relieving high school memories, so you all sat on the floor in circle. Some random guy looked for an empty bottle that would choose the lucky couples. You were sitting across Hendery, who looked spaced out, probably drunk already and being stalked by Lyndsey. The poor girl’s eyes were shining with high hopes of getting a chance to be alone with Dery again. You were mocking him and he was acting annoyed.

As the game progressed, many random couples got to be locked in the darkness of the closet. Your friend matched with the very hot Jaehyun guy from English class but she didn’t spill anything. While you were teasing her, you heard Hendery’s name along with some noise by his friends. You were about to start mocking him too when you noticed the bottle was pointing at you.

You swear your surroundings froze in time. Your friend’s eyes widened because she knew how you felt. Hendery tho, was excited because after all, it was you and he wouldn’t feel so awkward.

“Aren’t you going?” Said the guy who had the control of spinning the bottle, Lyndsey looked at you and then to Hendery, expecting you to not go. Hendery actually helped you to stand up and basically dragged you into the closet with him. Before locking the door, the guy with the timer said, “Whatever you do, you have 7 minutes. Nothing more,” and with that, he left you two alone in the darkness of the closet.

You were holding into Hendery’s arms, maybe to know he was there, maybe as a support, or perhaps because you wanted to feel him close.

“Well, at least I’m saved from Lyndsey,” he laughed nervously.

“Yup, once again, I am your savior,” you remarked.

Being alone with Hendery wasn’t awkward usually, but there was some weird tension going on in the tiny space of the closet.

“What should we do?” He asked in a whisper, the air emitting from his lips blowing you right on the face because he was too close.

“I don’t know... talk? We’re friends, this isn’t weird,” you tried to convince yourself.

“I mean... yeah...”

“These had been the longest seven minutes of my life,” you stated.

“Let’s kiss, maybe that would make it less awkward and the time will go faster,” Hendery suggested and you swear the butterflies in your stomach made a tornado.

“You think kissing between friends is less awkward?” You asked confused.

“Well yeah, I mean, we’re friends. It shouldn’t be weird, it’s only a kiss,” he said, ignorant of your feelings for him.

“Okay then,” you agreed, “but let’s not allow this to make us awkward after, alright?”

“Promise,” he gave you his pinky to hook with yours.

In less than a second, his lips crashed on yours. You thought it was just gonna be a peck, but then he started moving his lips, and automatically, yours responded. His tongue darted between your lips, looking for yours to tangle with. Your arms snaked around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist, bringing you even more closer. Having him like this sparked the feeling inside you more: you were in love with this guy without remedy.

When you two were getting comfortable with it, you heard the alarm outside, indicating time was up. You detangled from each other, fixing your hair and your clothes to make it seem that nothing had happened. Everyone knew you two were best friends and to give the tiniest hint that you had done anything in there would be enough for your group of friends to start teasing you. When the door opened, you went on with your normal friendship and acted as if you haven’t kissed passionately a few minutes ago.

You were too overwhelmed, so you decided to leave with your friend. Hendery stayed. He was probably gonna crash in with the boys.

On the way back, your friend was telling you about her experience with Jaehyun, and then she remembered your time with Hendery.

“Did anything happen in there? You two looked pretty normal to me,” she inquired.

“Well... we kissed,” you shrugged.

“I knew it -wait what?!” She was shocked! “You kissed? As in a peck or-?”

“As in full tongue,” you nodded.

“Oh my God...... how do you feel?” She was concerned now.

“Like I’m in love... I feel like as soon as his lips touched mine, I was done, I completely fell in love with him,” you confessed.

“Oh no.... what you gonna do now?” She asked.

“Try to not be awkward and act as if it was nothing. Friends can kiss right?” You fake-smiled.

“No they cannot! Friends with benefits do... but I don’t think you’re there yet,” she scratched her neck.

“I’m fucked aren’t I?”

“Very...”

You tried avoiding Hendery until you felt better and collected your thoughts, but that was kinda impossible since he was everywhere and he looked for you everyday. So you did your best to not looked like you were having a turmoil of feelings every time you saw his stupid, beautiful face.

There you were, having lunch all together. He was talking about how he wanted to talk to a cute girl who was a few tables away. Your friend placed her hand on top of yours in silent support.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was up with you. He usually talked to you about his affairs with other females and you weren’t this affected, but today you were bothered by it. While his friends celebrated that he was going to get her number, you stood up and left with the excuse of having to study because of a test. Your friend followed you.

“I think you need to talk to him,” she suggested.

“I don’t know. I feel is going to be useless,” you grunted.

“Y/N, it has gotten to a point where you’re always fuming. He will start noticing your behavior soon if you keep this up, so my advice is that you two sit down and talk this out,” she stepped in front of you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! He doesn’t feel the same way I do. I’m the one trying to ruin our friendship,” you said as you threw your hands in the air in frustration.

“First of all, you don’t know that. Second of all, if you keep bottling it, you’re gonna explode and it’s going to be worse. And that’s not ruining a friendship, it’s only natural you like him. You spend time together, he knows you well, he brings you snacks...” Your friend was trying to talk reason back to you.

You whined, “But how am I supposed to tell him? I can’t just sit him down and tell him, ‘Listen, I have this huge crush on you, please love me back’, he’s a guy, he won’t understand.”

“Well, if he feels the same way he WILL understand,” she said matter-of-factly.

“That isn’t helping! Ughhh! I need to plan something... something that looks casual but it’s the right moment, you know what I mean?”

“How about... how about you invite him to watch a movie? That’s something you guys do often, right?” She suggested and you nodded. “You watch a movie, you have your snacks, you cuddle as you always do, and then you tell him. What do you think?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you laughed.

You gasped, “How do you know we cuddle? Are you spying on me?!”

“Come on, let’s be realistic. You two look like cuddly people,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah true... your plan sounds good. Imma try it. You’re the best! I don’t know how my life would be without you,” you embraced your friend in gratitude.

At night, you texted Hendery to start with your plan:

Hey, dumbhead

Sup, headache

Do you have plans on Friday night?

Not yet, 为什么？(weishenme - Why)

Why are you texting me in Chinese?! You know I don’t understand! I mean, I’m deducing that means why.

🤪🤪🤪

Anyways! What do you think if we watch that new movie on Netflix?

Sure, I’ll bring snacks

Kay

好！

Now that you had everything planned, you started thinking about what to say and how to say it. You couldn’t just shoot it.

A few hours later, when you were about to go to sleep, you received another text from Hendery. It said it had an image attached. It was strange but you decided to open it. And then regretted it.

Hendery had sent you a spicy picture. It wasn’t a nude but it was pretty suggestive. He was holding his member over his pants, as if to show how big he is without actually showing. Almost a dick pic.

You panicked, you were sure that wasn’t for you. A sudden jealousy took over you because, why was he sending these pics to someone else? But also, your friend-self told you to keep calm and let him know.

Wrong number! Dumbass! Look at the number before sending these kind of things!

He didn’t answer for a while, but then he appeared

I’m sorry!!! Oh God! I’m so embarrassed!

It’s all good. At least you’re not showing anything. My eyes aren’t bleeding yet!

I’m really sorry!

It’s okay! We’re friends...

And you left him with that.

Friday arrived and you were nervous already, waiting for Hendery in your apartment. Around 8PM he knocked on your door and you yelled “Come in!” Too lazy to get up from the couch. He looked comfy but so sexy at the same time.

Hendery brought a lot of snacks and placed them on the low table.

“I brought your favorites and mines, to fix your day!” He said excitedly.

You smiled and replied, “Thanks! I really appreciate it.”

“Let’s get to it!” He yelled and you shushed him laughing, he was so noisy and your neighbors would complain.

You were cuddled up with each other while watching the movie. You were leaning on his chest while he played with your hair with one hand and ate popcorn with the other. You felt his eyes on you, so you looked up and your eyes met. He smiled to you and you smiled back. You didn’t know if it was your imagination but you felt he was getting closer to your mouth. In your panic you didn’t move and opted to let it happen, maybe this was a sign that he liked you back. But then, his lips never touched yours and only centimeters away he said, “Haha, gotcha,” with a groggy voice.

You got angry and couldn’t conceal it anymore. So you got off the couch as quickly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” He asked confused.

The ticking bomb inside you snapped.

“What’s wrong?! You dare to ask me what’s wrong?! Hendery! You just pretended you were going to kiss me and then told me it was a joke!”

“Hey! Calm down! I thought it would be funny! Since you know, we kissed in the game as a joke” His eyes widening in concern.

“So the kiss was a joke to you?” You said crossing your arms tightly.

“I thought it was just a game, it didn’t mean anything,” he explained.

“It did to me!” You blurted, your mouth talking before you could think straight.

He froze and gulped, “What?”

“Nothing,” you turned around and walked to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” He walked behind you, “talk to me! You’re acting really strange lately. You’ve been avoiding me, you get angry about everything... what is wrong? What changed?”

You leaned on the counter, trying to find the correct words. “What changed is...” you gulped and then continued, “My feelings for you, Hendery. That changed.”

He was so puzzled. “I don’t understand...”

“Hendery, I’m in love with you,” you confessed, feeling a relief within you.

You looked at him, his eyes were alarmed, not quite the reaction you were expecting. “I- I- I don’t know what to say...” he stuttered.

“You don’t have to say anything, Hendery...” you muttered.

“I- I’ll be right back...” he walked slowly to the door and left without his things. He didn’t come back.

“Great Y/N, great! You just ruined your friendship,” you said to yourself, running your hands through your hair.

You cleaned your apartment and curled up in your bed, regretting everything you just did.

You two didn’t talk for a week straight, not daring to approach each other. Hendery went to Xiaojun for help because he felt he was losing you and he didn’t want that, but he felt bad for leaving you hanging that night. You were expecting an answer from him, but at that time, he didn’t think you were going to say what you said.

“This is simple, Hendery,” said Xiaojun while cooking something. “How do you feel about her?”

“I don’t know!!!” He whined, pulling his long strands of hair.

“I think you do know, you just don’t want to accept it,” Xiaojun chuckled. “You can be honest with me, you know.”

“Ughhh! Okay,” Hendery groaned. “I think I’m pretty accustomed to her as my best friend that I didn’t think I could actually like her. But now thinking about it well, I feel like my best self when I’m around her. I can be myself and she won’t judge me, she follows my weird behavior, she shares snacks with me...”

“Let me change the question a little bit,” Xiaojun interrupted, “the day of the party, how did you feel when you kissed?”

After thinking about it a little, Hendery answered, “I wanted to keep kissing her. I felt so comfortable in her arms. She’s a great kisser btw,” he drifted away.

“Focus!” Xiaojun yelled.

“Okay, okay! I don’t know, I feel like I would be able to tell if I see her again... but I don’t know how to go back to her,” he sighed.

“How about you do a non-date date, something simple like going for a late night drive,” Xiaojun suggested.

“You’re a genius!” Hendery exclaimed.

“I’m a romantic, which is different,” he pointed out.

It was 12AM on a Friday and you we’re already cuddled in your bed when there was a knock on your door. You threw a hoodie on, to not wear a bra just in case, and went to see who was it.

You felt like the air was punched out of you when you opened the door and saw Hendery’s figure. His hair was disheveled and he was wearing a cream-colored shirt, black joggers, and his glasses: the best look on him. “Hendery...” you said softly.

“Um... hi!” He smiled awkwardly, making him look so cute to you. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked this whole week and I didn’t have the best response to what you said and I’m sorry about that,” he was talking too fast.

“Hey... it’s okay,” you patted him on the arm. “You want to come in?”

“Actually, I came here for you. Do you want to go for a late night drive?” He was swinging, looking pretty nervous.

You sighed, “Do I have to change?”

“Not really, I mean, look at me,” he extended his arms and turned around. You giggled.

“Fine, let me get my shoes,” you ran to your room and put on the first sneakers you found and you both got in his car.

He was just driving around town, both of you being the old friends you were, singing loudly to the songs on the radio, laughing out loud, and watching the neon lights of the places that were open. He got down on a station to buy snacks for both and then kept going.

You ended up on a lonely hill with a view to the city lights. Sitting on the front of his car, you listened to Hendery talked about his life in Macau and what he missed. Then you were playing, trying to guess where were the places among the tiny lights at sight. Like magnets, you cuddled against each other without noticing; the night was getting cold after all. In the chit-chat, the clock marked 3AM. You got in the car again but Hendery didn’t started the car, instead he talked.

“Y/N... I’ve been thinking about what you told me.” There was a long silence between you two, so he continued, “I like the version of me when I’m with you. It’s so easy to not think about what to do or what to say, I can just speak my mind. I really appreciate you.”

“Same here, Dery,” you placed your hand on top of his, which was on his thigh.

“Im sorry for making you feel bad. I really didn’t think straight, I was in utter shock,” he apologized.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have said that the way I did,” you accepted.

“So no hard feelings?” He asked, looking at you now.

“No hard feelings,” you smiled.

But then the air changed between you two. A force was drawing you together and neither of you stopped it. Your lips touched, sparking the flame inside you again. And like that, Hendery knew he loved you too, because the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t stop dancing. His hand traveled to the back of your head, holding you softly. He pulled back first, mumbling, “I’m sorry, is this okay?”

“Only if it’s okay with you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he muttered before kissing you again, this time deepening the kiss. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. It turned to a passionate make out session and you were gasping for air. You smiled because you were kissing your best friend and Hendery smiled because you looked so cute.

“Should we take this to the backseat?” He suggested with a groggy voice.

“Here? Right now? Really?” You joked.

“I’m sorry! I’m desperate for you,” he shrugged. He jumped first, to lean the seat back for more space. Conveniently he had some sheets there. Then he beckoned you with his hands, inviting you to jump with him. You did as told but your foot got stuck on the front seat so you landed flat over him. You both started laughing at your disgrace but then started kissing wildly again.

He rolled over so you were under him. He fitted perfectly between your legs, as if you were made for him. Quickly, clothes started to be bothersome and he took off your hoodie. Then, Hendery’s hands ran underneath your shirt, reaching your breasts. He squeezed them and then started playing with your hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Soon enough, he asked you, “Can I take this off?” Pulling your shirt. You simply responded, “Please.” He also took off his, revealing his beautiful body and threw both of your shirts to the front seat. One of his hands ran down your body, feeling all of you while he enjoyed your lips. You sighed in satisfaction, feeling yourself getting wetter with every touch and each kiss.

Hendery knew when to start touching you and he asked for your consent, “Can I touch you?”

“Please Dery, I’m so wet already,” you said in a needy whisper.

He groaned in response, his fingers not loosing time in snaking inside your shorts. First he touched you over your underwear and then he slipped inside your panties, finding your clit easily. “Oh my god,” you said in a breathy murmur.

“Fuck... you’re so wet,” he hissed. He took out his hand to pull down your pants and underwear, all in one go, helping you shimmy out of them. After all, none of this was being awkward between you, you felt comfortable with each other. Once he had you all at his mercy, he kissed your neck, his mouth going down and down while his hand went to your south. His lips enclosed your nipple at the same time his fingers got between your folds. God! He was so skilled! Your hand played with his hair while his did unholy thing to you.

He sticked his middle finger in you, going in and out, then he added his ring finger and started moving them fast and deep inside, making you whine. “Fuuuuck! Dery! Feels so good!”

He let go of your nipple with a pop, “You like my fingers, baby? Yeah?” His voice was lower than usual and breathier, it had your head spinning.

“Ooh! Yeah, I love them,” you cried and kissed him. You could hear the squelching sound coming from between your legs. You couldn’t believe Hendery was the one making a mess of you.

You felt your orgasm bubbling inside you, “Hendery I’m gonna cum,” you said in a high-pitched whimper.

“You wanna cum on my fingers? Do you like them that much?” He panted.

“Mmmm! Yes!” You moaned.

“Come on, baby, let go,” he commanded you and started thrusting his fingers faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said in a shattered chant and then you felt the delicious tingles all over your body, your eyes rolled back, and your back arched. Something unusual happened this time: strands of water gushed out of you and your legs started to shake. You cried loudly loosing all control of your body. Hendery was amazed of what he just did, “Shit! So hot!”

You, on the other hand, were embarrassed. “Oh god... I’m so sorry...” you hid on the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, that was so hot! I’ve never achieved that. Did you know you could do that?” He caressed your hair in assurance.

“No... it’s the first time that happens...” you whined in embarrassment.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he chuckled, “wanna know something? I’m harder now.”

“Deryyy!” You gasped.

“Can you take it?” He hummed.

“I can take all of you,” you smirked.

“So naughty, I like it,” he pecked your lips and proceeded to kneel in front of you, all bended to avoid smashing his head with the hood. He slipped his pants off easily, along with his briefs, his hardened cock springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight, the tip so pink, shinning with wetness, all ready to take you.

You opened your legs, inviting him, you couldn’t wait for him to be inside you.

He hissed when seeing your still wet core, “Fuck, I could’ve beat that long time ago,” to which you laughed. “Well, you decided to keep boundaries.”

“You’re my best friend, wasn’t it going to be weird?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe?” You shrugged.

“I’m a man, you know. I’m weak. Do you think I didn’t wish to rearrange your insides some of those nights where we cuddled in your couch? It took the best of me to calm this little guy,” he grabbed his length. You burst out laughing.

“Are we really having this conversation when you’re about to wreck me?” You rolled your eyes.

“You started it!” He complaint.

“Oh, shut up and fuck me,” you taunted.

“Condom or no condom?” He asked.

“Wrap your weiner, I don’t know where you have sticked that thing in,” you commanded him.

“I’m clean! I always protect myself, who do you take me for?! I offered myself since I trust you as my best friend, but okay. And don’t call him a thing! He has a name!” he sounded so offended.

“Oh my god! Don’t take it personal! Maybe in the future I’ll let you fuck me raw,” you winked, “but for now, let’s do it this way.”

“Alright,” he said as he looked for his wallet in the pocket of the pants he just discarded. Finding the tiny foil square was fast and he was even faster rolling it down his shaft.

“Come here,” he pulled you closer by your legs, making you laugh. This whole adventure had been a fun ride for both of you.

He kissed you passionately again, one of his hands ran to your leg, bending it a little to have better access to your entrance. He then hold his length, rubbing the tip up and down your pussy, teasing you, making you bite your lip. You were shaking in anticipation.

He pushed himself in slowly, both of you moaning. “Mmm, 操! (cào - Fuck), you’re so tight for me, baby,” his said in a shaky whisper.

He went as deep as he could, making you feel so full. “Hendery,” you breathed, “I feel so full.”

“Yes baby, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he assured you in hoarse groan.

He kept thrusting you slowly, passionately, enjoying every inch of you. The car was full of shaky breaths, low moans, occasional grunts, and the sound of kisses. Never in your life you thought you would share such an intimate moment with Hendery, but you were loving every second of it.

“Can I go faster?” He asked softly.

“Yes please,” you pleaded.

Hendery caged you in his arms and started snapping his hips faster. His lips whispered filthy praises in your ear, adding up to your want for him, “So good, your cunt feels so warm baby, wanna fill you up with my cum. Do you want that? Yeah? Mmmm... Making love to you feels so nice. I love you, I love you, I love you. This is the only pussy I wanna fuck for the rest of my life.”

Your hands hugged him back, running all his back, tangling in his hair, he had you crazy for him with every word. If you weren’t out of breath, you replied to his words with moans and mewls. “Mmmf! Hendery! Fuck! I love you so fucking much! Please keep fucking me, it feels so good!”

A few minutes later he panted, “I’m gonna cum.” He tried to go faster and he drove his hand south, finding your bundle of nerves skillfully. He was drawing circles while pummeling into you fast, making your second orgasm arrive with force, tightening around him. A sharp scream left your throat and you hugged him tightly. Hendery came with a guttural growl, “Ughhh! So good!” You could feel him pumping in you while he filled the condom.

When you both could breathe again, he embraced you and peppered you with kisses, making you giggle. “How are you feeling, my love?” He smiled.

“I like the sound of that coming from your lips,” you cuddled with him. He sighed, satisfied with the thought that you were his and he was yours.

“Then I will call you that all day just to see you happy,” he kissed you on the forehead.

“You’re my happiness,” you purred.

“I love you, I really do,” he confessed.

“I love you too, Dery,” you raised your head to kiss his lips.

“Do I need to pop the question or are we clear?” He joked.

“Imma torture you and make it pop it,” you chuckled beaten.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked confidently.

“I’d love to,” you replied.

After a moment of silence, Hendery suggested, “Up for round two?”

“Oh my god, you’ll be the death of me if your sex drive is this high,” you sighed.

“My sex drive with you will always be high. Imagine having to hide your boner for so many years and then finally getting the pussy of your dreams?” He was such a character.

“Stop!! That is not true” you shoved him with your elbow.

“Not true?! Do you wanna know how many times I masturbated after arriving home from our movie nights?!” He could be brutally honest sometimes.

“You masturbate?” You wanted to see him snap.

“Listen, Y/N, if I didn’t, my dick would’ve fallen off by now because holy fuck! I wanted to rail you so bad!”

You just exploded in laughs. He really was the man you loved.

“How many rounds can you make?” You asked him.

“I have a whole box of condoms to use with you. You decide,” he shrugged.

“So that’s 3?” You jeered.

“Very funny,” he said sarcastically.

The car kept rocking, the windows were fogged and Hendery almost could last till dawn making love to you. The rest of the night became an orgasm feast for you two.

You fell asleep, beaten thanks to the activities. When you woke up, the sky was painted in pastel colors, announcing dawn. You were wrapped under the sheets, naked with Hendery, on the back of his car.

You looked at him, he looked so cute sleeping soundlessly, you didn’t want to wake him up, but the sun was about to rise and you were away from the city.

“Baby,” you whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, as if asking what was wrong.

“Baby, I’m cold and the sun is rising,” you explained.

“Mmm... really?” His sleepy voice was making your head spin.

“Yes my love, we should go home. We can continue sleeping at my apartment if you want,” you suggested.

He yawned, “but then I’ll have to make love to you again because I want to be like this with you.”

You giggled, he was so cute talking while sleepy. You kissed his cheek. “We can just get naked and sleep.”

“It’s not the same,” he groaned. Hendery sat and stretched, then, he passed you your clothes.

You guys bought breakfast on the way home, you ate it and then went back to sleep. You spent the majority of the day in bed watching series, glad that you belonged to each other now.

#neosmutcollective #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #fanfic #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv smut #wayv #wayv scenarios #hendery #hendery wayv #hendery smut #huang guanheng #nct fluff #wayv fluff #friends to lovers

[nanatsumu]

jjk men as (kinda not really) sensual songs in my playlist

(okay originally this was just supposed to match a character with a song, but this turned into more of a “songs as jjk men in toxic relationships”)

i was gonna include naoya and toji in this but sukuna’s part of this drabble ended up being a lotttt longer than i intended it to be so i’ll probably do theirs some other time !! and sukuna’s might not add up correctly or make sense but i wanted to put this out since i was really invested in the whole plot and who knows, maybe i’ll turn it into a oneshot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and just so you know everyone has their own interpretations of these songs so whatever i perceive might not be similar to the way you perceive it :)

GOJO SATORU AS:

OH BOY DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THIS MAN. okay so after browsing around and researching, i couldn’t find a blog that explains the official meaning behind this song, but after analyzing the english lyrics i can only come up with ONE conclusion: this song is about a couple and the girlfriend begins to pick up on the signs that her boyfriend is cheating on her. but here’s the catch!! even though she confirms that her suspicions of him cheating are indeed true, instead of confronting him about it and getting closure, she resorts to trying to win him over one more time by wearing her sexiest miniskirt, ‘risky black high heels,’ and black stockings in order to catch his attention. but her attempts are in vain because nothing seems to change which explains the line near the end of the song: “even your eyes that look at me, why is it so cold?” and i think it just basically means that even after she dresses up all nice to catch his attention, he still treats her coldy and they probably end up in a toxic relationship even. WHICH BRINGS ME TO WHY I THINK THIS SONG FITS MR. GOJO >:( gege confirmed in an interview that they don’t see gojo being faithful to a particular woman, and you can either interpret this as gojo being a womanizer or gojo just not wanting to date at all due to his occupation as a jujutsu sorcerer, but for the sake of this analysis i will conclude that gojo is indeed a womanizer. i think the scenario that is the most befitting for this is:[ gojo and y/n being in a long term relationship but she starts to realize he’s been coming home later than usual with smeared lipstick stains on his face and the scent of a foreign perfume clinging onto his white button up. any normal person would immediately confront their significant other about that but c’mon, would any normal person really be dating gojo? he’s got you hooked and you can’t seem to leave him no matter how many times he breaks your heart. you fell in too deep and now you have to face the consequences, which is why you can’t seem to let go of the alluring blue eyed male. he pulled you in with that captivating smile of his and he’s not letting you go anytime soon. ]

RYOMEN SUKUNA AS:

now this one is interesting.... tbh i feel like there could be a lot of different songs that represent him well (even better than this one) but in terms of toxic relationships i think this would fit well with him. so essentially, every song can be interpreted differently depending on the person and how they perceive it, but in MY EYEBALLS i think this song is about two lovers who know that they are toxic for each other but keep running back to each other. they have a ‘collar’ on one another, with either person pulling the other person back whenever one strays too far away and this leads to my explanation on why i think this song would best fit with sukuna and his lover’s relationship. we all know that sukuna has an extremely domineering aura, so i feel like he would need a lover equally as domineering or has a feisty personality. their relationship would start off as something like a friends with benefits arrangement after meeting in a club one night— and what was supposed to be a one night stand ended up turning into a whole fling. sukuna wants to see how long it takes before you break and you know this game all too well so it turns into a push and pull type of thing between you two. and even though sukuna plans to throw you away after he’s done ruining you, no matter how many times he tries to convince himself that this was all just a game, there’s always this tingling feeling in his heart whenever he sees your genuine laughter while talking to some dude from your uni. your smile has never once met your eyes whenever you were with him and he’s pissed that a random guy gets to see it and not him. so he starts ghosting you for a while after realizing that he actually yearns for you in a romantic way and you’re kind of hurt after noticing his change in demeanor since you thought things between you guys were going well but you don’t dwell on it for too long since you know what you got yourself into after being involved with him for this long. he goes back to fucking around with other girls and you decide to go back to your usual mundane university life— however, it’s not long before he shows up at the front door of your apartment, drunk out of his mind. and so begins this whole cycle of him ghosting you, fucking some other girl, and then running back to you continues. the two of you aren’t sure why you keep punishing yourselves like this but the only thing you both know is that you’ve got a tight leash on each other and neither one of you are letting go any time soon. there’s also one verse in the song that i would like to throw in and that is: “i died a thousand times. i did what i had to do. hey, that’s just how it goes. i’m still coming back to you.” so we all know that y/n went into the relationship knowing that things were going to end one way or another so when sukuna ghosted her the first time she wasn’t too affected by it. however, that one night where sukuna came running back to her happened and it made her think that whatever relationship they had could blossom into something more, but this is not the case though because it was stated that sukuna continued the cycle of ghosting her (idk he’s scared of commitment?), fucking another girl (to convince himself that there was no way he could ever have genuine feelings for y/n), and then running back to her (and this usually only happens when he’s super duper drunk because drunk words are sober thoughts right? except in his case, drunk actions are sober actions because he wants to see her— but like i said, scared of commitment.) y/n is aware that sukuna is doing this yet she continues to hurt herself by throwing herself onto him every time he shows up at her place, hence the line ‘i died a thousand times’ (someone going through many painful and unpleasant experiences being in a relationship and even though they have to suffer being with the other person, they continues to run back to them nonetheless.)

so that’s why i think “she’s my collar” represents this toxic relationship well because even though sukuna is constantly running away from her, he always ends up back in her arms (y/n being sukuna’s collar) and whenever sukuna shows up at her apartment, she’s always ready to welcome him with open arms every time (sukuna being y/n’s collar.)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna

[professorrw]

Drunken Stupor

Pairing: female reader x Steve Rogers

Request: @tomholland792​ based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdaesDvr/

Warnings: drinking, hangover, misunderstanding

A/N: This is unrelated but I got my first vaccine shot today! Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

It was a night to remember for sure. Looking back there were so many things you did wrong. But in the long run it was worth it. 

You were having a night out, something that was rare since you had joined the Avengers. Things were slow around base so you saw no harm to go clubbing with Wanda. You two were pretty close knit since you were both the newbies.

The whole night was full of partying and drinking and dancing. It was two in the morning by the time Wanda called an Uber to pick you two up and take you home. You stumbled into the back seat with Wanda in tow. You were giggling and your head was spinning and it took all your effort to focus on what the red-head was saying.

“Who-” hic, “do you think is hot?”

You squinted at her and tapped your chin. “I think- I think that Steve is.”

“What about-” hic, “Bucky?”

“Mmm he’s hot too I guess.” In your drunken stupor every thought you had was coming out of your mouth. You didn’t like Bucky in that way, it was Wanda’s words that had coaxed out that response. Your first idea of someone hot was Steve. 

Ugh, Steve. In your opinion he was by far the most attractive of all the Avengers, including yourself. He was the first to welcome you and he really helped with the process of getting to know everyone. There was instant chemistry between the two of you and although you weren’t together, dating or liking other guys felt like cheating. Somewhere in your heart you hoped that you would be together someday.

But that wasn’t at the forefront of your mind at the moment. Your mind was hazed over and the only thing you could think of was your immediate thoughts.

You got out of the Uber once you arrived at the compound. Your driver was nice enough to park right in front of the doors because he could tell how hammered you both were. You kicked off your heels by the front door and leaned on the wall for support as you did it. On the way to the living room you were swaying back and forth and replaying Wanda’s words, which were the only thought that was clear at the moment.

Natasha, Tony, Steve, and Rhodes were in the living room when you two walked in. The group could immediately tell that you were drunk. 

The first person you caught sight of was Steve, who was sitting in a chair reading.

“Hey capsicle,” you said. You weren’t entirely sure if they could understand what you were saying but you were so out of it your eyes weren’t even staying open.

Steve had warned you before you left not to get too drunk, or else you would have a terrible hangover. Obviously you didn’t heed his words. He looked up from his book and glanced at you. It killed him to see you so out of it. He liked you, really liked you, and the fact that you had gotten drunk and didn’t even ask him to come get you worried him.

Nat looked over at Cap, “Steve?”

He just shook his head and looked back down at his book. Natasha was aware of Steve’s crush on you, and also knew without being told how protective he was of you.

For some reason the next thing you said was, “By the way, Bucky’s hot.” Out of all the things you said that night, that was the one thing you regretted the most. 

Steve was so bothered by what you had said he shut his book, got up, and walked off. He was planning on telling you soon how he felt, but now you were saying that you thought his best friend was hot? There wasn’t anyone to blame in the situation. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault you said that. To Steve’s knowledge you’d only met him once.

Tony was never told of Steve’s crush but Steve wasn’t very good at hiding the fact. He ran a hand down his face. He lived for some good old fashioned drama, but Tony was tired of all the pining that was going on between you two. He was going to combust if one of you didn’t confess soon.

Rodes was none the wiser of your crushes but he could tell from Steve’s reaction and the rest of the groups’ that nothing good was happening.

Natasha walked over to you and put her arm under yours to hold you steady. “Let’s get you to bed.”

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. You raised up slowly and rubbed your eyes. On your bedside table was a glass of water and a note. It said, “Drink up and eat a good breakfast! -Nat.”

You downed the glass of water and went to the bathroom. You squinted at yourself in the mirror. You were wearing an oversized t-shirt of yours and your hair was in shambles. You instantly regretted the previous night’s drinking that you had done. You tried to think back on what happened but your mind drew a complete blank. You couldn’t remember anything after your first few drinks.

You walked to the kitchen and pulled a bowl out of the cabinet. You weren’t even going to attempt to make a whole breakfast in the state you were in. You poured some instant oats and water into the bowl and popped it into the microwave. Steve walked in while you were waiting for your oatmeal.

“Good morning,” you said.

“Morning Y/N.” He gave you a thin smile, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and walked off. You stared after him with a confused look. You may have been a little disoriented but it was obvious something was wrong with Steve. You put that thought away when the microwave beeped.

You ate your breakfast alone and chilled in your room for a few hours. Right after lunch Natasha came to check on you.

“Doing okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the water by the way. I woke up with a killer headache.”

“No problem. You were drunk last night when you got home and I thought you would most likely have a bad hangover,” she explained.

“I do. I can’t even remember most of the night. Oh, and what’s wrong with Steve? I saw him this morning at breakfast and he was acting weird.” You sat up in your bed and crossed your legs.

She winced, “Um- I think you should ask him about it. It has to do with last night.”

You groaned, “Oh god, what did I do?”

“Well, you came in completely wasted and basically said that you think Bucky is hot.”

You raised your eyebrows and blinked at her. Internally you were slapping yourself. You said that in front of Steve? In front of the guy you liked? How could you be so dumb?

“I’m gonna go but if you want to know, Steve’s in the gym.” Natasha waved and left your room.

As soon as her footsteps faded you slid on some house shoes and made your way down the stairs. You weren’t entirely sure of what you were going to say but you were already in front of the gym door.

You opened it and there was Steve, hitting some punching bags. He showed no signs of noticing you so you walked over to him. He didn’t stop until you were a few feet away. Sweat was dripping down his face and his chest was heaving.

“Look Steve, I'm sorry about last night. I was black out drunk and didn’t know what I was saying. I can’t even remember what happened, but Natasha said that I called Bucky hot right in front of you and that’s not the case. Not that I don’t think Bucky is good looking because that’s not true-” You were so nervous that you began to ramble and all Steve could do was sigh.

“Let me start over. I don’t like Bucky, plain and simple. I actually like you,” you admitted. You bit your lip and looked at Steve.

He raised his eyebrows, “Really? So you don’t like Bucky?”

“No, I don’t. I barely even know him.”

Steve inhaled, “I guess I’ve been a little… rude to you then. I’m sorry too. I acted like a child about it. I just reacted like that because I like you and it hurt to hear that you thought my best friend was hot.”

You laughed, “It’s okay, I understand. So would you like to go on a date sometime then?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I would love to.” He smiled at you and you just smiled back. The circumstances of your confession were less than swoon worthy but it all worked out in the end. That was the beginning of your relationship with Steve and you would both joke about it later on.

#marveloneshot #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers smut #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x yn #captain america x y/n #captain america x fem!reader #steve rogers x yn #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #avengers #avengers fluff #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x yn #professorrw #fanfiction

[dontbipanicjonsa]

Dutiful Sansa Stark

Plus some extra stuff about perceptions and POV traps

Read under the cut-

Tyrion 

"No," Sansa said at once. "You . . . you are kind to offer, but . . . there are no devotions, my lord. No priests or songs or candles. Only trees, and silent prayer. You would be bored."

"No doubt you're right." She knows me better than I thought. "Though the sound of rustling leaves might be a pleasant change from some septon droning on about the seven aspects of grace." Tyrion waved her off. "I won't intrude. Dress warmly, my lady, the wind is brisk out there."

He was tempted to ask what she prayed for, but Sansa was so dutiful she might actually tell him, and he didn't think he wanted to know.

xxx

He wondered what Sansa would do if he leaned over and kissed her right now. Flinch away, most likely. Or be brave and suffer through it, as was her duty. She is nothing if not dutiful, this wife of mine. If he told her that he wished to have her maidenhead tonight, she would suffer that dutifully as well, and weep no more than she had to.

Littlefinger

A true daughter would not refuse her sire a kiss, so Alayne went to him and kissed him, a quick dry peck upon the cheek, and just as quickly stepped away.

"How . . . dutiful." Littlefinger smiled with his mouth, but not his eyes.

xxx

She hugged him dutifully and kissed him on the cheek. "I am sorry to intrude, Father. No one told me you had company."

"You are never an intrusion, sweetling. I was just now telling these good knights what a dutiful daughter I had."

"Dutiful and beautiful," said an elegant young knight whose thick blond mane cascaded down well past his shoulders.

That's a lot of dutiful.

On the surface it seems like these two situations- one with Tyrion and one with LF- parallel each other; creepy, older men interested in Sansa think she's too 'dutiful' because she suffers through their attentions. However, when we dig deeper it becomes clear that the two situations actually contrast in subtle ways.

Tyrion

Tyrion calls her dutiful, but what duty is she fulfilling? She actually fails to fulfil her biggest duty to him i.e. having his babies (ew).

Or rather, she refuses to do her duty to him.

"On my honor as a Lannister," the Imp said, "I will not touch you until you want me to."

It took all the courage that was in her to look in those mismatched eyes and say, "And if I never want you to, my lord?"

His mouth jerked as if she had slapped him. "Never?"

Cue me falling ever deeper in love

This is a powerful scene. Tyrion is willing to give her an inch, but she goes and takes a mile. She could have just said "yes, I'll let you know when I want you" and then never let him know, but instead she said that. His plan was to postpone the consummation, but now she’s taken the opportunity to tell him that if she had her way, they would never consummate their marriage. He can still go through with it, but with this one statement (knowingly or unknowingly) she's put the onus of choice on him. He can still touch her, he can still consummate the marriage- but Sansa will never want him to. It’s still her ‘duty’ to suffer through it, but now any future sexual contact between them is undoubtedly in the non-con category.

That doesn't sound like Sansa is just reluctant to do her duty, it sounds like she's rejecting it.

In fact, Sansa is basically never shown to think about her 'duties' as his wife. Eating lunch with him may be her 'duty', but she isn't doing it for that reason. She's doing it because what other choice does she have?

Honestly I'm not sure where he even gets the idea that she's oh-so-dutiful, because as far as I can tell, she's really just doing the bare minimum she can get away with doing as his political-prisoner-child-bride.

Sansa does not, for a single second, give a flying fuck about her duty to Tyrion and I love her for it.

And yet, Tyrion's my-dutiful-wife false belief is what allows her to get away with planning her escape. Tyrion fails to be suspicious of her even when he absolutely should be re: that first quote.

So-

Tyrion likes to think Sansa is dutiful (for some reason).

Sansa is not dutiful.

Sansa doesn't seem to be aware that Tyrion thinks she is, but it works to her advantage nevertheless.

Littlefinger

Now in Littlefinger's case she really is playing the dutiful daughter.

This time, fulfilling her 'duty' as his daughter is in her best interest, because it acts as an excuse to avoid what he really wants from her. It's basically the reverse of the Tyrion Situation.

So-

Littlefinger thinks Sansa is dutiful because she is.

She's acting dutiful on purpose (to diffuse his sexual attraction (ew) towards her).

Clearly, it's working to her advantage.

Now, onto the extra stuff-

We have this-

Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?"

"Joffrey and his mother say I'm stupid."

"Let them. You're safer that way, sweetling.

xxx

"The g-g-godswood, my lord," she said, not daring to lie. "Praying . . . praying for my father, and . . . for the king, praying that he'd not be hurt."

"Think I'm so drunk that I'd believe that?" He let go his grip on her arm, swaying slightly as he stood, stripes of light and darkness falling across his terrible burnt face. "You look almost a woman . . . face, teats, and you're taller too, almost . . . ah, you're still a stupid little bird, aren't you?

xxx

"There's to be so much, my lord. I have a little tummy." She fiddled nervously with her hair and looked down the table to where Joffrey sat with his Tyrell queen.

Does she wish it were her in Margaery's place? Tyrion frowned. Even a child should have better sense.

Sansa goes under the radar so well in KL because people think she's too stupid to do anything. Again, we see Tyrion, an overall smart guy, fail to be suspicious of Sansa's very suspicious behavior nevermind that she IS a child you asshole because he thinks she's stupid.

So-

People think Sansa is stupid

She's not stupid. We also don't see Sansa actively encouraging that perception, which makes sense because-

she doesn't need to. They do that all by themselves and

she's too busy believing she really is stupid, poor kid

3. It works to her advantage anyway.

Which leads me to-

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

xxx

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle.

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf."

xxx

"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."

So-

People thinking Sansa murdered Joffrey with her witchy wolf ways.

She didn't.

???

I am SO looking forward to see where this goes.

More extra stuff-

This entire post grew out of me obsessing over this post.

It got me thinking that out of the six core characters, Sansa is the most observed one. We see her in real time through the chapters of other POV characters the most. I counted. My count can be up or down by about one or two chapters, but I have Sansa pegged at around 15 chapters, followed by Tyrion at 11, then A*ya (around 9), then Jon (around 8), then Bran (4), and then D*ny (0). This is exacerbated by the fact that Sansa has some of the least number of POV chapters of the 'core six'. This means that-

We see Sansa more (or at more than others) from other POVs than her own. In other words, we get to be in Sansa's head less and in other characters' head thinking about her more (unlike most other main characters).

This plays a BIG ROLE in her POV trap, which is pretty much the opposite of D*ny's POV trap in terms of both what it is hiding and how

Perception and reality play a very obvious and direct part in Sansa's story, both her own perceptions and others' perceptions of her.

The Vale arc changes everything though. Now suddenly-

She's surrounded by an entirely new cast of people

She's the only POV character in the location

She has an entirely new identity with none of the same pre-conceived biases attached (though there sure are other pre-conceived biases that go with her identity)

This has happened with other characters as well (Tyrion in ADWD, Arya in every other book), but the impact it has on our perception of her is unique. It's basically reversing everything her POV trap was previously built on.

Now, she is her own worst critic. Now, the thoughts that other POV characters have of her (Tyrion, Cersei) are increasingly muddled. Is she a murderous sorcerer, or a stupid little girl? Was she dutiful, or a scheming traitor? The correct answer is-

she was none of those things. Everyone is just....trapped by their own PoV?

#sansa stark #meta #anti sanrion #anti littlefinger

[demonslayedher]

I'm glad you reactivated the questions, here are some flowers for you: 💐 Seriously speaking I'm sorry that because of a question I asked you a few weeks ago you watched a series of videos of psychopaths 🥲It made me laugh at first but then I felt guilty 💔 it's all Muzan's fault for leaving us all with curiosity (imagine his parents' reaction once they realized there was something wrong with him even as a human)

Yay, flowers (which I shall kill with my black thumb)! And no, no, it’s fine, I had hoped it came off funny! I like listening to stuff like that while I draw anyway because I’m a nerd anyway and I found it very interesting.

Speaking of being a nerd, you have innocuously unlocked the following essay about Heian period nobility and wisteria flowers: There is nothing to state so in canon, but I find it highly reasonable to say Muzan might had been of the very powerful Fujiwara clan. Step inside my office, Anon.

Okay. So. The Heian period, simply put, was a time of cultural flourishing and beautiful pastimes, the origins of a lot of Japanese style aesthetics, and a romantic courtly like of romancing everybody else in the court. This is assuming, of course, that you were at the very, very, very, very top of society. Otherwise, the vast majority of people were poor and sick and starving and ew, in young Muzan’s world, we do not wish to associate with that. In the Heian court, Kyoto basically is the whole cultural world. Even though there were other cities that could rival Kyoto, the emperor was there, so it was essentially the cultural center of the country. The nobles who lived there got money from owning land in far-flung provinces, but actually having to live in those provinces? What a drag! Having to live away from Kyoto for work, even if it wasn’t an official banishment, often felt like a punishment to the nobles and their families who were used to the social scene at court. And, like affluent courts around the world throughout history, understanding all the intricacies of style and “Heian Rumors” was key to having social clout, and popularity was power. And yeah, nobles would be vicious to each other. While clan dynamics and history are complex and not something I’m getting into here (I don’t consider myself well-versed in it enough), the Fujiwara clan is a BIG DEAL.  Basically, in Heian times, children were typically raised in their mother’s home, thereby heavily influenced by their mother’s clan, so besides a young man’s parents, his in-laws also would had been hugely influential in his life, as they will have a long-felt influence on his progeny. The Emperors typically married Fujiwara daughters. This, in addition to other positions of influence of the Fujiwara clan members usually held with influence over the Emperor, means that politically, there was no messing with them. Now, just because I say Muzan might had been a Fujiwara clan member, I don’t necessarily mean a member of the main branch of the family. Often, due to inheritance management, different branches of various noble clans might be given different surnames. The Fujiwara clan does have different branches, some of which did go one to have close ties with the imperial family even after the fall of their power at the end of the Heian period and all the way through the Taisho, and some branches carry some impressive family legacies but otherwise live like normal or high-class common folk in modern-day. (I know one such Ojousama from a renamed Fujiwara branch; she’s a sweetheart and never brings it up herself but every time I hear other people say things about her family, I’m like, dang.) We can venture from Muzan’s likely expensive medical treatment, multiple marriages (meaning other clans sought to be connected with his family even by marrying their daughters to a sick man), and even preparation for cremation as a baby that he was of a very, very high status. 

Being the sick son of a prominent family may have warped his personality in multiple ways: first, he was probably already used to a culture of popularity equated political power. We see in Muzan’s dealings with humans in the Taisho period that he can be exceedingly charming to get what he wants (a psychopath trait, haha), so he was probably pretty aware of the complex ways of socialites in the court. But, even being aware of that, it probably frustrated him to no end that he was too sick to take part in the social pastimes where he’d gain clout. It’s also possible that he was a bit of a bargain husband for his wives’ families who were seeking to a make ties with his family, as they must not had been politically useful enough to be married off to other powerful matches. This may be some of why he was so ruthless to them, for he never saw them as useful to him in the first place. This probably got a bit worse once he became a demon. Now to be lewd, but he probably got more vigorous in his pursuit of more powerful lovers, and knew how to slay the women’s hearts as he liked (you know, popular Heian pastime, everybody had lots of lovers, it was the norm, though political marriages and legitimate children were still important). That new sense of power probably went to his head. But, ultimately, he must had been limited in clout since he couldn’t take part in any daytime activities, thereby limiting his access to more powerful spheres of influence. His reputation from having grown up sickly must had followed him too. It’s anyone’s guess how much affection his parents had for him and how happy they were about his health at first, and if and when they might had noticed his changes. He was a full-fledged adult by the time he turned into a demon, so who knows how closely they even associated with him. They likely had healthier children who they devoted more care and attention to, and invested more family resources in while assuming Muzan would probably die young.

Who knows what the final straw was in Muzan leaving court? Was it frustration at not being able to walk in daylight that made him flee to the Kanto area in pursuit of the blue spider lily (from near where the doctor lived) long before Kanto became politically affluent? Or was it the rumors at court about how he didn’t age, and that he was eating people?

Of note, a lot of the early legends of demons in Japanese culture take place in the Heian period.

In his book “Japanese History of Demon Slayers,” retired Shizuoka University professor Tetsuo Owada capitalized on the success of Kimetsu no Yaiba to dive into a lot of ties between the series and what it may pay homage to throughout Japanese history and culture. While this was published last September and a handful of his theories have been disproven by the second fanbook published last February, and while I think a lot of his theories are stretching a little too far to make strong connections, it’s still deeply, deeply interesting stuff. He goes into some specific comparisons of demons, like Minamoto-no-Raiko and his posse of four big bad warriors taking on the Tsuchigumo (giant spider demon) terrorizing the mountains north of Kyoto harkening to the case of Rui’s family (and, ding ding ding, this was the primary focus of the official Kabuki/Kimetsu crossover last November), as well as takes little questions left in canon and dives into them a bit deeper. One such question is, why were wisteria lethal to demons? According to Prof. Owada’s research, there is no historical basis for this. Some of the talk online is that: 1. Wisteria are in fact poisonous, and consuming too much of them would cause vomiting and diarrhea (though I’ve also seen people make jam out of them because of the fragrance, so, like???) 2. Beans are thrown around at Setsubun to ward off demons (like so, Feat. Muzan and Kimetsu Beans), and wisteria are of the bean family 3. Wisteria like sunlight, so perhaps like Nichirin, they soak up some of the sun’s properties that are lethal to demons 4. In the language of flowers (Hanakotoba), wisteria symbolize kindness, welcomeness, refusing to leave someone’s side, being drunk with love, being straightforward and truthful, not losing the humanity in one’s heart, thereby containing a lot of meaning contrary to the conduct of demons Interesting, but some of its kind of a stretch. While still finding it a stretch to apply it to wisteria being poisonous to demons, Prof. Owada goes on to say that since ancient times, while the wisteria has some negative connotations of how it was sometimes written with characters meaning “doesn’t heal” (不治) and growing downward with smaller and smaller flowers like symbolize the slow downfall of a family line, it conversely also carries positive connotations of longevity and flourishing family due to the fact that its vines grow upward.

Now, you might picked up at some point that the Japanese word for wisteria is “fuji.” Not to be confused with Mt. Fuji (that’s written differently), it IS the same fuji as in “Fujiwara”: 藤.

Prof. Owada goes on to explore the association with the use of Wisteria crests in Kimetsu no Yaiba, especially on the houses of supporters of the Demon Slayer Corp. His recurring thesis is that the pandemic is partly responsible for Kimetsu no Yaiba’s popularity since demon legends have long since had origins in epidemics, and he supposes the Wisteria crest has a protective effect on the houses, similar to a talisman used in a lot of real life rituals for warding off illness and then often displays in or on the entries of houses to protect the family every year (I have one such item gifted to me, it stays by my doorway, along with a couple sticks of charcoal (but the culture of charcoal is a post for some other day)). The talisman is in reference to a god of Hindu/Chinese origins being treated with hospitality by the So clan, so although other families perished in disaster/disease, he promised to always protect the So clan descendants, so the talisman says “Descendants of the So Clan” so that any household may try to claim that divine protection. The gratitude-exchange of hospitality and protection and sure sounds familiar! Prof. Owada isn’t done yet. While the crest design used in Kimetsu no Yaiba isn’t an actual family crest in in real life, there are lots and lots and lots of family crests that use a wisteria design and have the character for “wisteria” in the name. Any time you hear “—tou”, like Satou, Saitou, or even Gotou, you can typically assume it’s 藤. It’s very common nowadays, but the first family to be granted the use of this name was the Fujiwara clan, when one of the pre-Heian and very powerful emperors granted their clan head this surname, which was a major honor, and it marked the start of the Fujiwara clan’s political dominance (there was already influence leading up to this, but meh, we like clear-cut stuff to simply centuries of history, don’t we?). Furthermore, although we often think of the Fujiwara clan for their influence at court, and we might think of the Minamoto clan for warrior heroes who fought demons, Prof. Owada concludes his argument of wisteria’s protective influence by pointed out a long list of Heian period Fujiwara warriors who also were the heroes of demon slaying legends, stating that their name has also long been tied with demon slayer culture. SO!!! Let me go on with my theory here. Muzan is from the same family line as Ubuyashiki. At some point (I assume after Muzan is long gone from Kyoto), the family is told while their children keep dying, and they accept their mission to bring an end to Kibutsuji Muzan and clear this curse on their family line. My thought is that their ancestor was a full blood sibling of Muzan, one whom was more invested in than sickly Muzan. While perhaps already an off-shoot of the Fujiwara Clan and thereby not entitled to the same sorts of inheritance, they probably maintained close ties with them. But, as it was already not direct by that time, the other Fujiwara clan branches were not affected by this curse. To further spare the clan the effects of this curse, this was probably when that sickly branch took the name Ubuyashiki. (And yes, I have things to say about this name and its possible mythological origins which I find a highly, highly interesting connection. Prof. Owada supposes it is tied with Izumo Taisha Grand Shrine and that is why there are nine pillars, but as much as I love Izumo Taisha and its giant pillars I base my argument in separate Shinto (but also Izumo!) mythology and accept that there are not always supposed to be nine Pillars specifically and Gotouge simply chose that number based on the number of strokes in the kanji for ‘Hashira’ (柱) BUT I DIGRESS). So, the Ubuyashiki Clan is it’s own thing, but is sort of like a cousin to the other Fujiwara branches and thereby continues to enjoy Fujiwara support throughout the Heian period, like some of the Fujiwara warriors going out there and slaying some of Muzan’s early demon experiments, and using their influence to bring in other warriors to the demon slaying cause (pet

theory: Genpei War warrior Kumagai Naozane was a member of the proto-Corp and using Kasugai-garasu was in practice since at least late Heian period). While the Ubuyashiki Clan probably already their own inherited land (and funds that came from it), throughout their history, their cousin clans might also have provided financial support to the Ubuyashiki Clan. But, they probably distanced themselves from the clan due to the curse and not wanting to be tainted. When you bring back in the wisteria associations this puts the contrary associations with a flourishing and dying family line in a new light. Furthermore, the “not healing” way of writing “fuji” also means a lot more in the context of Muzan’s, and later the Ubuyashiki clan’s illness.

#KnY nerdery #Kny fandom theories and meta #kibutsuji muzan #ubuyashiki kagaya #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer

[artificialqueens]

Someone I Genuinely Love (Taywhora) - pureCAMP

A/N - I feel like a broken record but it must be said, I feel like I exclusively write for Ortega at this point and I am not mad at it, I love her more than I love myself. Here is a short little Taywhora for my favourite scottish queen <3

The night - er, morning - was a disaster.

To be honest, Tayce had seen it coming from a mile off, and she had warned Lawrence that inviting both A’Whora and Tia was going to be an absolute shitstorm. They just plain didn’t like each other, which was fine, but A’Whora had trouble holding her sharp tongue at the best of times, and mixing in a bucket-load of alcohol and a pretty cramped house, and you had a recipe for chaos.

(And, really? A house party? Were they still seventeen?)

Nevertheless, it was Lawrence’s birthday, and she called the shots, and she drank the shots, and she got to choose who came to her house to get unreasonably pissed into the wee hours of the morning.

Tia was there pretty early - or, at least, she was on time like most of them. She was stood in the kitchen with a Smirnoff Ice in her hand, happily chatting away to Ellie, wearing a dress that Tayce had complimented, if only to make some brief conversation. It was… passable, really, a half-decent outfit if she went that far, but nothing to write home about. Unfortunately, Tayce knew A’Whora was gonna hate it, and A’Whora with a loose tongue was almost certainly gonna make a comment about it.

The girl in question rocked up late and sloppy, as per her usual style. She stumbled through the front door and leant in the frame with a tipsy smile, plush lips painted pink and dabbed with glitter, eyelashes fluttering. Her skin-tight dress was fuchsia, bright, emphasising her soft tan thighs that the fabric rode up against and clinging to every inch of her. Once neat, her dark hair was messily piled on top of her head, falling tantalisingly in front of her face.

Tayce couldn’t help but feel relieved that she’d decided to come.

“The party can finally start!” A’Whora exclaimed, raising her drink in the air with a flourish and slamming the door behind her with her heel.

“It already started, ya lazy fuck!” Lawrence yelled from the back of the house. Tayce, standing at the bottom of the stairs and looking onto the front door, made eye contact with A’Whora and giggled at their friend.

“Isn’t she charming?” Tayce gestured towards the general vicinity of Lawrence’s voice.

A’Whora crept closer, her eyes wide and expectant. “Okay, listen. I saw Tia’s snapchat earlier. Tell me she got changed before coming out tonight.”

Here we go. Tayce bit her lip. “Aurora. A’Whora Borealis. You be nice.”

“I’m not trying to be rude or anything but she looks like a fucking Year Nine at her first party wearing a Pretty Little Thing dress that her mum chose for her. I mean, is she serious about it? Is it like a joke?” A’Whora covered her mouth with the side of her hand, her tone conspiratory and judgemental. 

Tayce rolled her eyes, both fond and irritated. “Whory, be nice. She clearly likes it, let her have fun. She’s not hurting anybody.”

“She’s hurting my eyes.” A’Whora rebuffed, pursing her lips. “Not like you, though. You’re a sight for sore eyes tonight.”

Internally she was pleased, but played it off smoothly. It wasn’t like Tayce had cleverly thought out her oversized blazer and thigh-high boots combo with A’Whora in mind, of course not. It wasn’t like she’d tailored her outfit hoping for a good response from her… friend? What even was A’Whora besides a hot girl she’d known forever who she spent 50% of her time blatantly flirting back and forth with and 50% of her time denying that she was doing it?

Lawrence burst through the corridor in a flourish of colour to greet A’Whora and groaned, fanning herself with her hand. “Fuck me, I am sweating.”

Tayce blinked. “It’s October. There’s no way you’re hot, in October, in Scotland.”

“Not from the heat, fuckin’ braindead supermodel. From the weight of the crushing sexual tension in this room.”

She looked pointedly between A’Whora and Tayce, neither of whom were particularly shocked by Lawrence’s openness, having grown used to it. However, in an embarrassingly same wavelength move, both girls cocked an eyebrow.

“Aye, I’m talking about you, pinchin’ your Botox lips at me Miss A’Whora the Explorer.”

A’Whora shook her head. “The cheek! Cheek of you to suggest that something’s going on here.”

“Not sure where you’re getting your sources from, but I’d consider leaving The Sun’s team out of your investigations,” Tayce added, A’Whora trying and failing to conceal her smile as Lawrence playfully whacked her arm.

“Get to fuck with those accusations. You carry on living out your little Gavin and Stacey storyline and I’ll go ask the Pope if he’s still shitting in the woods or if bears are still Catholic. Have fun ya fucking lesbians.”

As she disappeared back into the living room, where Bimini had started blasting something with a heavy, pulsing beat, A’Whora turned back to Tayce with an offended look on her face.

“Did that William Wallace wannabe just imply that I’d be the man in the relationship just because I’m English?” She asked, reeling backwards. “Fucking cheek!”

Tayce laughed. “Well, you don’t have legs like mine…” She trailed off, predicting A’Whora’s outburst.

“Hey! Listen, we’d be a great Naomi and Kim, so shut your beautiful face and stop seducing me with that gorgeous accent.” She paused for a second, thinking, and then blinked. “I mean Naomi Campbell and Kim Kardashian, I realise that sounded like something different…”

Tayce looped her arm through A’Whora’s and started trudging down the hallway, making their way into the living room with most of the others. “I love that you think you’re anything like a Kardashian, babe. The Kylie lips maybe, but you’re no Kim.”

As the music grew louder and louder in their eyes, Bimini wrapping a drunk sweaty arm around them both and bellowing something inaudible, Tayce leaned in close to A’Whora’s ear and added, “I’d much prefer what you’ve got to what Kim’s got.”

That was the game; cat and mouse, a game of chase and coy avoidance. After that, she slipped away to dance with Asttina, sipping on her drink and trying to hide her eagerness. The next move was A’Whora’s, as they both knew, and she could play it whenever she wanted.

It was after maybe another hour of drinking and gushing with her friends about how beautiful everyone looked and how drunk they all felt that Tayce realised the atmosphere in Lawrence’s living room was a little too kind. Nothing wrong with that, of course, and a house full of drunk girls was basically the club bathroom scenario elevated to an extreme level, but a kind atmosphere meant that A’Whora had clearly gone into another room. Not good.

Making to find her, Tayce got all the way to the doorway before Ellie and Lawrence stopped her to chat about whether or not it would be stupid to play spin the bottle (it would) and whether or not they should all do some more shots (they did). Then I Wanna Dance With Somebody started playing, and by the first “Woo!”, she’d totally forgotten about her earlier mission, and ran back inside screaming and grabbing at Asttina to dance with her. 

She had to give Lawrence some credit, because her playlist was incredible. Nothing but banger after banger after banger.

About half way through Good As Hell, Tayce became aware of what sounded like shouting, underwater and garbled and messy. Though she carried on grinding against Asttina and singing along to Lizzo’s affirmations, her head checked out a little as she tried to focus on the background voices over the blaring music. It proved to be quite the struggle, being as drunk as she was, but as it turned out, she didn’t need to pay too much attention, as she wasn’t the only one that had noticed.

By the time Tia was standing outraged in the living room doorway, all eyes were on her. She looked furious, cheeks red and eyes spilling over, her fists clenched and trembling.

Lawrence quietened the music.

“So, were you gonna tell me that you all think I look like shit or did you nominate A’Whora to be the nasty cunt she usually is?” She looked down at her dress, back up, and choked back a sob. “Fuck off, the lot of you.”

Immediately, half the room started to follow her with choruses of love, their words getting tangled in a web of you’re beautiful and she doesn’t speak for us and A’Whora’s just a bitch and I like it! 

The living room felt significantly emptier with just Lawrence, Ellie and Tayce in it, the three of them frozen staring at the doorway like they couldn’t believe it had finally kicked off. After a few moments, The 1975 now playing at an awkwardly low volume, A’Whora passed the living room, peered inside with brimming eyes, and broke into a run. 

Tayce followed her on instinct, leaving Lawrence and Ellie behind. Her heart sank as she rushed through the house; one part of her took in the group of girls gathered in the kitchen, their arms hooked over a crying Tia, their tongues slicing away at A’Whora’s character with every dirty look that they sent in the direction of the now wide-open front door. 

As bad as she felt for Tia, no one was going after A’Whora. And maybe that made sense, but Tayce had never cared too much about making sense - not when it came to her. 

Luckily, she didn’t have to go too far. A little way down Lawrence’s street, a familiar figure was sitting crumpled over on the curb, her face hidden in her hands, head leaning against the lamppost under which she was illuminated. Like an angel, Tayce thought. Like a sad, stupid angel. 

“Whory. What did you do, babe? I wanna hear it from you.”

A’Whora looked up. Flecks of black mascara stained around her eyes, the shadows beginning to smudge into the eyeliner from her tears, and her lip trembled. She lowered her head, prompting Tayce to sit down on the curb next to her, legs stretched out into the empty road. 

“I told her the dress was fucking ugly, because someone’s gotta do it. I was just trying to help but I know that was an asshole thing to say and I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.” 

Tayce blinked. She hadn’t expected the remorseful part of A’Whora’s answer, if she was being honest. She usually never gave in, never admitted defeat, proudly shrugged off any offence caused while Tayce tried to interject some kindness into her. It never worked, which she’d always found frustrating, but now it was unsettling that it had. 

“I mean, I’m right. She looks like the embodiment of the fucking kid’s section of a TK Maxx.”

Tayce kissed the side of her head, A’Whora responding by resting it on Tayce’s shoulder. “I thought she was the Year Nine girl in her mum’s choice of Pretty Little Thing dresses?” She teased gently. To her relief and simultaneous heartbreak, it received a short, wet laugh. 

“I didn’t expect her to - to rip into me like that. Like she did.” 

“What happened?”

“She stood up for herself. Which is good, right?” A’Whora sniffed. “She told me I’m a vapid self-absorbed little bitch, and that she can change her shitty fashion sense while I’ll be stuck with my fake face and dog shit personality for the rest of my life. And that at least our friends like her, ‘cause they barely tolerate me.”

Tayce squeezed her eyes shut and hugged her tighter. “You gotta understand she’s coming from a place of hurt, darling. I know you know this, but you have been pretty mean to her in the past.”

A’Whora nodded weakly, throwing up a peace sign. “Karma,” She sang, the humour in it betrayed by her wobbly voice. “I deserved it, but… I didn’t realise it would hurt this much. Especially because she’s right.”

“She’s not right,” Tayce cut in immediately, a little surprised by her own fierce defensiveness. “She was just angry and upset.”

A moment of silence fell as A’Whora lapsed into thought, her face still smushed into Tayce’s shoulder. She scuffed her shoes into the stones gathered at the edge of the curb, kicking them into the road and scraping her heels into the gritty dirt. As cold as the night was, Tayce could hardly feel it with A’Whora so close.

She laughed bitterly. “Tay, look at us. Do you see any of our other friends out here? No, they’re all telling Tia how much they love her. Because they do. And I’m the nasty fucking bully that won’t go away so they just put up with me until I give them a reason to talk shit.”

“That’s not true, Whory. Sure, we gotta work on controlling that lip of yours, but the girls still love you.” Tayce paused, and then peppered a few more kisses to the top of her head. “You may be a bitch, but you’re my bitch.”

“Kinky,” A’Whora giggled, softening into her side. “You still like me?”

“I always like you.” Tayce whispered. 

Above them, the orange street lamp flickered and turned off, casting them into darkness. A crescent moon shone just above them, partially covered by clouds, and the night was quiet. Tayce leaned back, pulling A’Whora with her, until both girls were laying down, half on the pavement and half into the road, their arms around one another and heads facing the sky. A lifetime or even a minute could’ve passed as they just watched the stars, endlessly fascinated by the tiny pinpricks of light, but when Tayce turned her head, it struck her that A’Whora’s eyes sparkled better than any night sky she’d ever seen.

“I should apologise to Tia.” A’Whora murmured.

“Tomorrow.” Their voices were barely above a whisper, something unspoken and sacred about maintaining the tranquility of the silent night. “Give her time to cool off.”

“And you promise you still like me?”

Her eyes were wide, hopeful. Their faces were so close it was no effort at all. It never was. 

Not with her.

The night - er, morning -  was a disaster, but A’Whora’s lips tasted like cherry gloss and her touch was soft and gentle, and maybe things didn’t always end badly. Maybe it would be okay as long as Tayce had A’Whora and A’Whora had Tayce. 

Maybe Lawrence fucking Chaney was right.

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #taywhora #tayce #a'whora #tia kofi #lawrence chaney #submission #rpdr uk #uk2

[hoseokmylovesworld]

I Knew It Was You | Jungkook One Shot

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Requested: Anonymous: 

“A wolf college au where yn and jk are both the popular students but they’re not really acquainted with each other? theyre actually mates but they dont know that yet. Their friends always hint that theyre basically so compatible with each other and so they start to develop feelings for each other. One day, yn was in her wolf form just hanging around the forest and she met jk’s wolf whom she didnt recognize and they ran and played together. So, theres this other girl who likes jk and tries to make a move and kisses jk but jk immediately rejects her but yn was hurt when she saw and like jk could feel it through their mate bond? and they eventually confess and well realise theyre mates and start dating :D also like soft smut scenes in between especially when they finally officialized their mate bond :) also, jk is the alpha of his pack and is usually cold to outsiders and hes typically only soft for yn :D”

Genre: Wolf au, College au, Fluff, Smut

Length: 9,029k Words

Warnings: Strong language, Underage drinking, Drunk-con, Smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex.

A/N: 

1. My first ever request! Thank you so much!!! I hope it is the first of many ;D.

2. First time writing Wolf AU, I kinda just made some stuff up...actually I made a lot of stuff up, but who doesn’t.

3. Thank you for being so specific and creative, it really helped. I hope I did it justice.

4. P.S. Listening to Dance For You by Beyoncé on repeat kind of inspired the last bit. 

“Is there a reason why Jeon Jungkook is staring at you right now?” your best friend, Camille, whispered in your ear from the desk behind you during class. Your gaze shot up from your notebook and focused straight ahead, processing what she just told you. Your eyes then drifted to the desk, that you knew very well, positioned five rows to the right of you, where Jeon Jungkook was indeed looking in your direction. Once your eyes met, his eyes suddenly wandered down to his own notes, a devilish smirk could be seen on his perfect lips. You did a double take because you couldn’t believe it yourself, but the proof was right there, he had definitely been caught staring. You couldn’t help, but chuckle to yourself. You quickly shrug in Camille’s direction to answer her question, down playing the encounter that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Mmhmm.” You heard her unconvinced hum from behind you and chuckle at her meddling behavior. As soon as the professor announced the end of class Camille, of course, was hounding you about the incident. 

“So did I miss something, or did something happen between you two?” You look at her in confusion. “No, nothing happened.” You say as you continue to pack up and head home for the day. 

“Well, why the fuck not?” She asks animatedly.

“Um, maybe because we don’t know each other.” You throw out with a laugh.

“Of course you do. You guys go to the same parties, I’ve seen you talking. You even have some mutual friends.” 

“Well, yeah, but that’s about it, isn’t it? Other than that, we just share a class together.” You tell her as you both walk outside of the building. 

“Okay, fine argument, but you realize that’s not the first time he’s been caught staring at you?”

“Everyone stares at me, Camille. They stare at you too. It’s because we’re fucking beautiful.” You smile at her and she can’t help, but smile back at the compliment. “So no, I didn’t notice.” 

“This is different Y/N and you know it.” 

“I don’t know anything.” 

Just as you spoke, Jungkook came into your view walking on the path that intersected with yours. A classmate you know as Crystal was walking beside him, her words falling on deaf ears as Jungkook was not paying much attention to her. He looked up and you locked eyes again. His blank and cold expression was replaced with a warm smile and he even went so far as to wave at you. You hesitated, but quickly lifted your hand and waved back. Before you could warn him, Jungkook collided with a student on his path because he was looking at you and the cold expression was back again. By now you stopped walking and just watched the scene play out. 

“Watch where you’re going, yeah?” he grumbled at the boy. The opposite student was speechless and hurried off without an answer. Jungkook looked back up at your slightly shocked expression and a quick look of regret flashed across his face before he took off in a fast walk, Crystal struggling to keep up with him. 

“But this isn’t different?” Camille asked with almost perfect timing. You glare at her before continuing your walk. “No. It’s not. And if it is...so what?” 

“So what? You’re hot, he’s hot. You’re both popular, you would be so good together. You know you guys have more things in common than you think. Jimin told me he loves singing and video games, too! Everyone on campus would be so jealous.”

You stop in your tracks once again, realizing what Camille wasn’t saying.

“Are you and our friends trying to set me up with Jeon Jungkook behind my back?” You ask seriously. Camille froze, her head snapped up and her eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Um...not in so many words.” You raise your eyebrows at her accusingly and she breaks. “When you put it that way it seems bad, okay—” 

“Don’t bother.” You offer as the two of you begin to walk again. You actually began to feel a sort of pull towards Jungkook recently, but ignored it because: “He seems like a bad boy type anyways.”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself? I hear he’s not actually like that and you never know, you might like it. You’re nineteen and you’ve never even had a boyfriend before.”

Because a werewolf girl dating a human boy would never work. 

“Thanks for the reminder Camille, I’m aware.”

“Look, you’re going to the basketball house party this weekend right? He’s gonna be there. Why don’t you give it a chance?” Her question is only met with silence.

“At least talk to him. Get to know him more. And then you can judge for yourself.”

“Fine. But only because you won’t leave it alone and he is really hot.” You finally gave in. Camille laughed and shouted in triumph. “Thank you. I just want you to find some happiness, you know? And who knows maybe he’s the one.”

The weekend has finally arrived and you really needed a break from studying and work so you dressed to impress and came ready to have a good time at the basketball house on Saturday night. As you approached the house, the many drunk bodies on the porch all greeted you by name, whether you knew them or not, they were all very excited for your and Camille’s arrival. It was the team's captain, an upperclassmen named Yoongi, who opened the door to the house and welcomed you into the crowded living room. “Y/N! Camille! You’re here!” He drunkenly shouted, making both you and your best friend laugh. “Hey, Yoongi! How’s it going?” You asked him, having to talk directly into his ear to be heard over the music. 

“Great! Let’s get you girls some drinks though! Have whatever’s in my fridge ‘cause I love you guys and if you run out of booze, come see me.” He walked you both to the kitchen with his arms around your shoulders. 

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary Yoongi, but thank you anyway.” Camille said, giving Yoongi a kiss on his cheek. You did as Yoongi said and helped yourself to whatever closed, untouched beverage caught your eye in Yoongi’s fridge and once you felt just tipsy enough, you and Camille hit the makeshift dance floor and grabbed everyone’s attention as usual. After a few more songs and a few more drinks you were feeling a bit beat and suddenly wanted a place to lay down that was quieter. Seeing as you were separated from Camille and weren’t in the position to use the best judgement right now, you decided to travel upstairs and find a nice bed to fall into for the time being.

You stumbled through the wide hallways of the house and settled on the third door on the left. You swung the door open, laid eyes on the large freshly made bed and prepared to flop belly first on top of it, but you noticed a person sitting in an armchair near the window. You straightened yourself up as much as you could at the sight to realize it was Jungkook. 

“Hi.” Your hoarse voice spoke quietly.

He wore an expression of pleasant surprise and cleared his throat before speaking. “Hi.”

You shook your head in embarrassment and scrambled for an excuse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be in here. Yoongi usually says the second floor is off limits.” 

“Then why are you here?” He asks playfully. 

“We’re good friends and I thought he wouldn’t mind.” You play off innocently. “Why are you here?”

“Same.” Is all he said before a silence came over the two of you.

“Well, sorry again. I’ll just go.” You go to leave, but Jungkook stands and reaches in your direction.

“Wait!” He said. You step back into the room again and face him. “Stay.” He said hopefully.

“Why should I do that?” 

“Because these parties are not my style and I could use someone to talk to.” He settled with a smile. The pull you felt for him was making itself known and at this point you couldn’t leave now even if you wanted to. 

“Okay.” You shut the door, make your way to the bed and face him. Once you were closer to him, you got a proper whiff of his scent. There was the pleasant waft of fabric softener and his expensive cologne, but the coaxing aroma of cedarwood and lavender practically called to you in a refreshing and comforting way. You couldn’t for the life of you begin to understand the feeling, but if being this close to Jungkook brought it on, then that’s what you would do. 

“So, if these parties aren’t your style then why do you always come to them?” You ask curiously. 

He sat back down in his chair and took a swig from his beer. “Because my friends come and I have nothing better to do on a Saturday night.” He flashed his bright, perfect teeth and you let out a nervous giggle. 

“Seriously?” You asked, not knowing whether you believed that answer. “You’re not even with them, you’re in here by yourself.” His smile slowly morphed into a thoughtful line and he let his head fall to stare at his fidgeting fingers in his lap. 

“There was no one there that I wanted to see.” He said quietly. 

“But there was someone up here that you wanted to see?” You said sarcastically with a laugh.

“Well there wasn’t before, but there is now.” He looked up with a timid smile and your breath caught in your throat for a split second. You cleared your throat and decided to change the subject due to how warm your insides suddenly became. He doesn’t seem all that bad, maybe you should actually get to know this guy.

“So, while we’re here, avoiding the rest of the world, maybe we could...get to know each other better. I feel like we barely talk.” You offered, following through with Camille’s request. You were suddenly aware of how heavy your head was. Your weighted eyelids dropped and the world went dark before Jungkook was suddenly back in your sight once more, looking pleased with your previous words. It was obvious you were still pretty intoxicated and needed to carefully monitor what came out of your mouth.

“Um, okay. Yeah, uh...what kind of music are you into?” He laughed at his own question, probably thinking it wasn’t interesting enough. But music happened to be your favorite thing to talk about.

“Oh, I listen to everything. I am lacking a little country and heavy metal on my playlist, but I’m sure it’ll pop up sooner or later.” You shrugged.

“So you’re, like, legit.” He gathered his thoughts aloud. 

“As legit as they come.” You responded, earning a laugh from Jungkook. The sound was enough to warm your insides ten fold. The two of you went from one topic to the next, sharing your likes and dislikes. You were being respectful of each other's opinions, but the playfulness was still in full effect. Jungkook even moved from his chair and joined you on the bed to sit beside you so that your knees were touching and your legs dangled over the side. 

“You can’t honestly sit here and tell me that Far Cry: Primal is better than Far Cry: New Dawn.” You accused, genuinely shocked. 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” He defended. 

“Well—No! Just no. New Dawn’s gameplay and story is so much better.” 

“That is a lie and I won’t stand for it.” He crossed his arms and put on his most serious face. 

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” You bated him, leaning forward so that your faces were closer than before. You couldn’t justify your actions, not hardly. All you could think about was Jungkook’s irresistible scent filling your nostrils this entire time and clouding your judgement. Along with the alcohol of course. 

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with understanding of your new intentions and his eyes moved back and forth from your lips to your alluring eyes before he too shortened the distance between you. He reached out to cup your cheek and you instinctively leaned into the warmth of his hand. He guided your mouth to his and it felt like a flame was ignited inside of you when your lips touched. Both of you released small moans of pleasure while exploring each other’s mouths. Hands began to wander and you could feel Jungkook guiding you onto your back as he climbed on top of you, your lips still connected. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and let out a whimper when he began to suck on the skin beneath your ear. 

His hand glided up your torso and stopped carefully over your breast. He lifted his head from your neck to look into your eyes. “Is this okay?” He asked barely above a whisper. You quickly nodded your heavy head. You had never experienced anything like this, but it felt good and natural so who were you to refuse? You had to admit you were pretty excited about how this night was turning out. 

Jungkook continued to fondle your breasts through your shirt and kiss you breathless, the two of you slowly grinding into each other all the while, legs tangled together. Your skirt riding up as you ground your heat into his jean clad thigh, instinctively seeking your own pleasure from him. To your disappointment, Jungkook pulled away to press his sultry lips to your exposed torso while making meaningful, heated eye contact with you. As if he were asking permission to keep going lower. You didn’t need any convincing. Jungkook was so intoxicating and you were so turned on that you didn’t want to say no to him. You wanted to experience what all your friends already have and spoke so highly of so you nodded at his silent request. 

He only looked back down and rolled your skirt up to your waist in response, revealing your black joe boxer panties. He caressed your thighs before gently pushing the fabric to the side, his breath wafting over your core and sending a chill up your spine. He spares one more heated glance at your eyes before licking a delicate stripe against your clit causing your breath to hitch and your body to jerk slightly. 

“You taste so good.” He suddenly rasped. All you could do was nervously giggle and cover your face out of embarrassment. His kisses and licks against your sensitive clit turned rougher and more driven so that your back was arched and your hands were fisting the sheets of the bed. 

You were a moaning mess at his mercy and your head swam with alcohol and the pure bliss that came from Jungkook’s mouth. The feeling of flying. He suddenly inserted a finger inside of you, only adding to the white heat surging through your veins right now. You instantly place your hand on his head and give his shiny hair a gracious tug. He then moans into your clit at the feeling making you lose it even more. 

He adds a second finger and moves his hand even faster while he continues to eat you out like a man possessed. “Oh, f—sss. Jungkook.” You whined, feeling your abdomen and your muscles tighten around Jungkook’s fingers. You knew your orgasm was fast approaching and you were desperate for Jungkook to give you what you needed.

The pleasure Jungkook was giving you was too good to be true. This was the kind of thing you only thought you could experience with your future mate. Your eyes suddenly shot open and you were thrown out of your euphoric stupor. You shouldn’t have let this happen, you should have been strong enough to resist temptation to save yourself for your soulmate. 

But it was too late, your orgasm slammed into you with a force that knocked the wind out of you. You forgot how to breathe and your whole body tensed with violent waves of pleasure. You let out a broken cry and unknowingly clamped your legs around Jungkook’s head, who was still very persistent in his actions, hands and tongue never letting up through your orgasm. You had to pry him off of you once you got too sensitive to take it anymore. 

“Jungkook, stop, stop, stop, stop.” He finally got the message and sat up again. Your juices covering his mouth and chin, which he wiped away slowly and smeared on his jeans. You both attempt to catch your breath, you especially, before you wordlessly adjust your panties and fix your skirt. You then positioned yourself at the edge of the bed beside Jungkook as you were before.

An awkward silence hung between you before Jungkook spoke. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, looking down. Your head whipped in his direction at the query.

“What? No! No. That was...amazing. I just..I guess I just wasn’t expecting all that. It was my first time.” And you’re human. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought...we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He reassured you. You let out a heavy sigh and grind your teeth at his words.

“Thanks, but...I don’t think we should do that anymore. Or anything like that.” You all-but whispered. His eyebrows furrowed and his head cocked to the side in confusion. 

“Wait, w-why? I thought—” 

Because, sadly, you’re not my mate!

“I just think maybe we might be better off as friends. I’m really sorry about this.” You said as you hopped off of the bed and put your shoes on while he sat frozen in one position. You place your hand on the door handle and open it before stopping and risking looking back at him in this state.

Not knowing what else to say, you said “I’ll uh, see you in class on Monday. Bye” and closed the door swiftly, scurrying down the stairs and rejoined the party. 

Monday came sooner than you had hoped and you weren’t ready to face Jungkook. You met up with Camille for lunch in between classes at the café. While you ate, you kept thinking about how you would have to man up and soon because you spotted Jungkook enter the café and without meaning to, you locked eyes with him. You froze, but held eye contact out of fear. Whatever he did next, you deserved for what you did last night, you thought. To your immense surprise, Jungkook dropped his permanently cold gaze, smiled a friendly smile and waved at you. You didn’t waste anytime smiling and waving back, hoping that last night wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship. 

He made his way to the register and ordered. He leaned against the wall of the waiting area and pulled out his phone in the meantime. He’s keeping his distance, that makes sense, you thought whilst checking him out. While you eye his figure from across the room, you didn’t notice your best friend eyeing you from across the table. You only had eyes for him in that moment. You didn’t try to conceal your staring even as he made his way to the exit. He smiled and nodded in your direction again on his way out and you smiled sweetly back. 

“Okay, did something happen between you two or am I blind? ‘Cause I know it’s not the last one.” Camille asked eagerly. “And where did you run off to during the party? I never asked.” 

You snapped out of it and faced her once again. “Well, I got to know J.K. like you said.”

“J.K.?! Are you guys on a nickname basis now?” She exclaimed frantically. You glared at her, sending her a message to lower her voice. 

“Yes, he said I could call him that. We met up in one of the bedrooms at the party and we talked. Turns out you’re right, he’s not so bad.” A warm smirk graced your face at the memory of your conversations.

“I. Fucking. Told. You. Don’t forget to thank me at the wedding. Never mind, I most definitely will be thanking myself. No need to worry.” Camille babbled. 

“Well, you don’t need to worry because I ruined it before it could even be…an it.” You frowned, aimlessly pushing your salad around with your fork. 

“You wanna tell me what you did this time?” Your best friend rolled her eyes at you from across the table.

“We may have kissed—” 

“You did what?!” 

“Calm down and let me finish!” You whisper-yelled causing her to attempt to gather herself.

“We talked and then we kissed and then we were on the bed and...he may have eaten me out.” You say that last bit at a slightly lower volume.

“WHAT?!” Camille shouts, causing almost every head in the café to turn to her. “Camille, you need to calm down, okay?” You say, not actually giving her a choice this time. 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, but what?!” 

“Yeah, that happened and it was amazing, but it didn’t exactly end well.” 

“Why? Did he...did he try to force you?” Camille leaned in. Her voice was definitely lowered now.

“No, nothing like that. He was sweet. I just—I ended up leaving because...it didn’t feel totally right. I mean it felt right, I just, I got the feeling that he wasn’t the one.” 

“So you gave up good sex? Boyfriend or not, anyone would kill to have their first time with that guy. Especially that Crystal chick that’s obsessed with him.” The thought of Jungkook with another girl sent a pang of anger through you, but you wouldn’t let Camille see that. It was over, you didn’t belong together.

“Yeah, well no one said anything about murder. Anyway, I backed out, it’s fine. I’ll find my soulmate someday, I’m destined to.” Literally.

“Hey, well if you’re good, I’m good. Now quiz me. I have an exam later.”

Thanks to your encounter with Jungkook, your following class was a lot less awkward than you thought it would be, but you felt the need to apologize one more time.

When class was over, you told Camille to leave without you and you waited outside for him. 

“Jungkook.” You called when you saw his mop of hair leave the classroom among the other heads. His eyes found yours instantly and he approached you.

“Hey, Y/N. How’s it goin’?” He asked with a sunny disposition that you could see right through, now that you were face to face.

“I’m good. How about you?” 

“I can’t complain.”

You nodded, looking for the words to say. “I just wanted to apologize again for Saturday. And thank you for not treating me like dirt today. I really shouldn’t have done any of that.”

He laughed lightly. “It’s all good Y/N. No hard feelings. You just know what you want and if you only want to be friends then that works for me. I think you’re a great girl and I just wanna know you.” He admitted genuinely. You were touched, but you were almost bothered by how okay he was with everything.

“That’s really sweet J.K. Thanks. I’ll, uh, see you around then.”

“See ya.”

Well that was way too easy.

Despite all of your attempts to expel your Jungkook from your thoughts, the boy and his sinful mouth wouldn’t leave your mind. You begin to wonder if you’ve made a mistake with the whole friends thing and it seems there was only one thing left to do. Finally you decided to hunker down and call your mom.

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” Her bell-like voice flowed into your headphones.

“I’m good, I think. I just called ‘cause I have a question. About our kind.” 

“Oh, I’m all ears, shoot.”

“H-how do you know you’ve found your mate?” You sputter the sentence quickly, hoping you wouldn’t have to repeat it. 

“Oh, honey. Are you seeing someone? And you didn’t tell me?”

“No, mother. It was just a question. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Mmhmm. Tell me about him first, then I’ll answer.” You sighed, realizing you had no choice.

“He’s really nice, and funny and good looking.” Your mother giggled over the phone. “But we only shared a moment. I promise, it’s nothing major. That’s my issue.” 

“Well, it’s not easy to put into words, but I’ll try. It’s like realizing everything you’ve done has led up to that moment. The moment you meet. It’s like gravity is pulling you towards that person, but you do go willingly to them. All you can see is that person and you would do or be anything that they needed you to be.” This all sounded familiar, but there was one thing missing. 

“And they definitely have to be a werewolf too, right?” 

“Of course, you know that. And sometimes you can’t even tell they’re your mate unless you meet their wolf. It’s rare and stupid, but I’ve heard stories and I don’t make the rules.” You laugh at her word vomit and continue to catch up properly. 

“Things have been just a little stressful over here, but nothing I can’t handle.” You told her.

“Well when’s the last time you stretched your legs?” You tried to think back to the last time you actually let your wolf roam free and you couldn’t remember. “I don’t even know.” 

“Well, do! Go down to that creek we found the last time we visited and just run, but make sure no one sees you.” 

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks mom.”

“Of course, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Night.”

You finally found time in your hectic schedule to get away to the woods near the creek you talked about with your mom. You told Camille you were visiting your family last minute so you wouldn’t be back until Sunday afternoon, giving you a solid day and a half to yourself and getting back in touch with your inner animal. You parked your car on the outskirts of the woods, grabbed your backpack full of clothes and necessities and made your way into the trees. 

You found a good spot deep enough into the thicket and far enough away from the trail that you were sure you wouldn’t be seen by humans. You hid your backpack in a few bushes and readied yourself for the transformation. 

Even though it’s been quite a while it’s like your wolf knew exactly what to do and you were a light gray, seven foot tall werewolf in no time. You could smell all the scents in the forest. You could hear the trees and the moving water from the creek. But you couldn’t hear any people nearby so you knew it was time to start running. 

You dug your paws into the soft ground, admiring the natural earth before dashing off into the woodland. You felt free of all the worries you came here with and found yourself forgetting all about midterms and professors and projects and you could just be yourself. 

You suddenly stopped on a dime when a familiar scent caressed your nose. Cedarwood and lavender. It was extremely potent and had the collective smell of the forest woven into it, making it one hundred times more appealing. Without your permission, you immediately took off in pursuit of the scent and knew that you wouldn’t stop until you found it. It was calling to you after all, you felt you couldn’t ignore it. 

The closer you got to it, you could hear another set of paws pounding at the earth moving with the same urgency as yours. You thought to stop out of fear of making an enemy, but it wasn’t up to you. You had no free will at this point, your wolf had to find the source of this scent. 

Your body finally stopped when you came to a clearing, face to face with another wolf. It was dark brown and slightly taller than you. Your body immediately makes itself slightly smaller from the amount of confidence that exudes from the dignified looking wolf. He must be his pack’s alpha, you thought. You both stared at each other from across the clearing and that’s when it happened. The words of your mom from before flood your mind at the sight of the brown wolf in front of you. He’s the one, you thought. Once again your feet begin to carry you to him without much thought and the brown wolf does the same. 

You meet in the middle and neither of you hesitate to get familiar with each other’s scents and nuzzle the other, marking each other with that scent as well. You continued this show of affection with your new mate, rejoicing in the fact that the wait was over and you’ve finally found the one you're destined to be with for the rest of your life. 

You are interrupted when you feel a large, wet tongue run up the side of your face. You open your eyes to see your mate with his front legs stretched out in front of him with his bum in the air and his tail wagging back and forth quickly. You understand that he wants to play and you assume the same position, waiting for his next move. Seeing this, he took off into the woods and you instantly chased after him. 

It took longer than you were proud to admit, but you finally got close enough to tackle him to the ground and the two of you sparred playfully, rolling around on the ground and pinning and nipping at each other. You both carried on like this; chasing, playing and nuzzling until the sun went down and came up again and you tiredly walked back to your backpack in the bushes with the brown wolf on your heels. 

Just as you reached your belongings, you heard the footsteps and voices of two hikers. Without thinking, you took off into the forest, as did your mate, but in the opposite direction. You made sure you couldn’t be seen by the hikers and watched as they walked by. But you knew even though they were gone, it was dangerous to be back out in the open at this time. Two humans was enough to cut your roaming time short. Your mate obviously had the same thoughts as you couldn’t smell his scent nearby anymore. 

You shifted back into your human form and got dressed in the bush. Cursing those hikers for scaring your mate off, you got in your car and headed back to campus. You didn’t know when you were going to see him again. The thought depressed you, but you promised to be back next weekend at the same time and tried to stay positive as always. “Back to writing papers and dealing with dealing with dickheads again.” You lamented. 

As if this week couldn’t get any worse, Camille was sick; meaning you would have  go to class and eat lunch and dinner alone, and Jungkook is no longer answering your text messages. He decided you were a shitty person after all, you thought on your way to the local café for your lunch break. As you approach the wall length windows of the café you can see Jungkook sitting at a table right against it with Crystal. Well, there’s your answer right there, you thought venomously. You stop and just watch the two, wondering why this was such a devastating sight when you’re not mated to Jungkook and you’re the one who made him look ridiculous. 

As you were standing there looking like a total weirdo and feeling sorry for yourself, Crystal reached across the table to cup the cheek of an oblivious Jungkook and kissed him on the lips. Your eyes widened in horror and your jaw dropped. The betrayal, no matter how unworthy you were of it, felt like it speared a hole through your chest. You didn’t understand why you were ready to collapse in complete agony over someone who didn’t belong to you, but regardless it felt like he ripped your heart out and stomped it into the ground in front of you. 

Jungkook pulled away almost immediately with a look of disgust on his face and turned to face you instantly, as if he knew you were there. You locked eyes with a stunned Jungkook and took off without a second glance. This was awkward enough, you didn’t need to confront the situation. 

Without warning you begin to feel this crippling guilt and anxiety, even though you didn’t do anything wrong. At least you didn’t think so. You’re distracted by your sudden rush of emotions when you hear Jungkook call your name from behind you. You glance at his desperate, running form before facing forward and continuing on your way. Wherever that was, you didn’t exactly know yet. 

He was faster than you thought because in the next second he had his hand on your shoulder and was turning you to face him. 

“Y/N! Wait, just wait a second. Let me explain okay?”

“Why? What do you have to explain to me? We’re not together.” You finally admit.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side and squints his eyes in confusion. “How can you...do you not remember?” He asks desperately, needing an answer.

“Remember what? The party? Yeah, all too well.” You say ashamedly.

“No.” He said firmly before thinking aloud. “Was that not you?” He nearly whispered. With your enhanced hearing, you heard clear as day. 

“Was what not me?” You were starting to get a little annoyed now.

“Do you not feel that? That pull?” 

You look at him, floored. “How do you know about that?”

“Have you had any emotions that weren’t yours recently? Strange feelings at least? I have. I could, I could sense you back there—”

“Okay, what? How do you know that?” You asked, getting overwhelmed. There’s only one way he would know a thing like that, but it couldn’t be. 

You allowed him to slowly lean in and take an audible sniff at your neck. “You still have my scent from Saturday.” He said in a satisfied tone of voice, causing you to freeze. 

He continued. “And oranges and rosemary.” Another sniff. “And red oak.” It was all starting to make sense. Lavender and cedarwood. You could suddenly smell it all over him, igniting all your senses. He pulled back so he could look you in the eyes deliberately. 

You looked back with a new fire behind your eyes. You were too blinded by anger to realize that your mate was standing right in front of you. “I knew it was you.” You said softly before throwing yourself into his arms. He laughed freely, wrapping you in his strong arms. 

“You had me doubting myself for a moment.” He said into your neck.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” You pull him into a heated kiss to seal the deal of officially finding your mate and it feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But then you’re reminded of why you were in a mood to begin with. You part from Jungkook and slap his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you answer my messages? I thought you were mad at me.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to show you. “I got a new phone. My contacts didn’t transfer and I wanted to talk to you in person after this past weekend. Took me all of Sunday to put it together, but I finally figured it out. Thank god one of us did.” He said teasing you. You slapped his arm once again. “I wanted it to be more romantic than this obviously, but I guess we can thank Crystal for that.” He said looking up apologetically. 

“Don’t worry about that, if she tries it again I can handle her.” 

“Then let’s get out of here, boss.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks back in the direction of the café.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, my sweetest darling.” He replies.

You cringe before you speak again. “Better, I suppose.”

He laughs loudly. “I could get used to this.”

“Oh, spirits, What have you gotten me into?” You ask the sky jokingly. 

You enter the café and Crystal is still sitting and waiting patiently in the same spot. Her eyebrows raise at the sight of his arm around your shoulders. 

Jungkook stands in front of the table and reaches for his wallet while Crystal watches attentively. Jungkook put some money on the table, said goodbye and the two of you left the café once more. You could see her wide eyes and embarrassed, flushed cheeks through the window as you walked away. Jungkook didn’t look back and that brought an impressed and touched smile to your face. 

“I’m thinking this calls for a celebration. What do you say to skipping class for the rest of the day?” He asked, placing a kiss on your cheek for...incentive?

You think about it. You only have one more class left, Camille wasn’t here to tell you not to and this was pretty worthy of celebration. You finally found your soulmate and you absolutely adore them. It was a good enough occasion for you. “You know what? Fuck it. Let’s skip.” You say with a huge carefree smile. “Whoo!” Jungkook howls with excitement. 

“Alright my lady. How about I actually take you to a way better lunch than the local café?”

“Like on our first date?” You ask sheepishly.

“Exactly.” He says, stopping in front of you on the sidewalk. “Y/N, will you go on a date with me?” 

“I mean, I don’t know. I just saw you kissing some other girl, what’s that about?” You fake cringe. Jungkook sighed and closed his eyes. 

“Please don’t do this to me.” He begged, making you laugh.

“Of course I’ll go on a date with you.” You grabbed his hand and you both took off in search of a restaurant that suited both your tastes.

He took you to an Italian restaurant nearby, which happened to be your favorite. “Oh, yeah, Jimin told me you liked it once.” Jungkook said when you mentioned it. You laughed at how naïve you’ve been these past few weeks.

“I still can’t believe our friends really tried to set us up together.” You laughed across the table from him as you waited for your food to come. 

“Haha, yeah, I guess they knew something we didn’t. Man, we really were late to the party.” 

The following three weeks consisted of you and Jungkook making up for lost time and spending time with each other as much as you possibly could. You found out that Jungkook is actually the alpha of his pack, which includes his room mates, Hoseok and Taehyung. They weren’t psyched you were stealing Jungkook away from them all the time, but it was necessary. It made for a true honeymoon phase as your wolves craved the presence of their mate constantly. 

You got excited when he invited you anywhere, both of you knowing that you would always accept. This was partly because your wolves desperately wanted to mate with each other and that fact made you incredibly nervous at times. Thankfully, no matter what form you were in, there was nothing forcing you to do anything, but the feeling would always be there, especially when you were together. 

Despite a close call in your dorm room, you both had gotten pretty good at ignoring it as you weren’t ready for that step and Jungkook was perfectly fine with waiting. You figured it would happen when it was supposed to and when it did, it would be perfect because every experience with Jungkook was. You just wanted to spend as much time as you could together before the semester ended. 

As you both had a test coming up, Jungkook invited you to his campus apartment to study. You jumped at the opportunity to spend the day with him and get some extra help in the course. You both sprawled all your materials on his king sized bed, that you were incredibly jealous of, and sat on opposite ends just focusing on your respective flash cards. 

Both of you would ask the occasional clarifying question or make a joke to break up the tension in the room. You were always comfortable with your mate and vice versa, but the air had taken on a fervent energy that you both noticed. After a while, you began to sweat slightly even though the temperature in the room was perfectly cool. Your eyes glance up at him and away again; you wonder if hanging with Jungkook in his room with his perfectly comfortable bed was the right way to go, especially after what happened last time. Jungkook cleared his throat, getting your attention, which was laser focused on the notebook in front of you to avoid thinking about him taking you on this bed.

“What do you say to a little study break? I’m starting to get a little burnt out over here.” He offered, fanning himself with his shirt. 

“Oh, yeah, me too.” You agreed.

“I’m gonna break out those snacks you brought.” He said getting up and walking to his desk where you left them, stealing a kiss on your cheek on his way there. You smile down at your lap as your heart skips a beat. His sweet behavior still gets a reaction out of you even after all this time spent together and you relished every moment of it. 

Jungkook fetched some chips and candy for the two of you and sat in front of you tailor style. You talk about school and make plans for next weekend when Jungkook leaned forward and placed a kiss on your lips. You felt your body temperature rise and that intense need that you’d grown so familiar with in the past few weeks appeared again with a new ferocity. 

Your body leaned right back into his and you savored the kiss before cutting it short, not wanting to lose control. You dropped your head and shook it apologetically. He rubbed your arm comfortingly and gently grasped your chin in his hand, tilting it up to look into your eyes. “Hey, it’s okay.” He uttered.

You look back into his dark brown eyes, wondering what you did to deserve a mate like Jungkook. How blessed you were to end up with someone as generous, charming, respectful, caring, sexy and talented as him. He never failed to act like a complete gentleman towards you and always let you know just how much he loved you, whether it was through words or eye contact or the way he caressed you. 

You wanted to show him how much you appreciate him, how much you were legitimately dedicated to him and that you wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of your life just as he has. You wanted to show him how much you truly care for him, how much you understand and value what he has to say, how much you love him. You wanted to show him how good he made you feel that first night at Yoongi’s party.

But you allowed your inexperience and fear of the actual event to hold you back from this stage in your relationship that you both obviously wanted. Why am I so afraid? You thought to yourself. Still lost in Jungkook’s eyes and his touch, your need for him was bordering on feral and growing stronger by the second due to the close proximity. 

What am I afraid of? We’re literally destined to be together, we both love each other, we’re basically mated for life anyway. Why not make it official? Your thoughts raced around in your head as your eyes fixated on Junkook’s soft lips and your body subconsciously inched closer to his. Your breaths were becoming heavier and more noticeable with the silence in the room.

Something in your mind clicked and you were on him in a second, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling his lips on yours again. Jungkook obviously had zero complaints as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and returned your less than gentle attack on his lips with just as much passion. You climbed into his lap, your body seemingly on autopilot as you rocked your hips back and forth on top of him slowly causing Jungkook to grunt into your mouth. He lets out a small moan when your mouth finds his jaw and travels down to the side of his neck. Without warning, your canines extended and grazed Jungkook’s skin; a sign that your wolf was ready to claim him as yours for life. 

You realized what you had almost done when Jungkook separated your mouth from his neck and looked into your eyes carefully, searching for any traces of regret most-likely. 

“I’m so sorry,” You rasped out. “I didn’t know I was—” 

“It’s okay.” Your mate assured you, placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb against it tenderly. “It’s more than alright. I just...Is this what you want?” 

You nod firmly. “I love you, Jungkook. I want this.” You said softly, playing with the silky hair at the nape of his neck. He nods, searching your eyes for doubts for the last time then you were kissing again. This time, you had no intentions of stopping. Jungkook clumsily pushed all of your notes and materials off of the bed with one hand before helping you to straddle him as he lay down at the head of the bed. 

“Oh, I love you too.” He added quickly against your neck. You giggle at the insertion and grab his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. 

“I know, dummy.” You whisper gingerly before pressing your lips to his, hoping that he could sense the passion and desire you felt for him in this moment. He smiled fondly against your lips and got to work on your shirt and bra, vocally praising your body all the while. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” He muttered into your skin, hands caressing your entire body. 

You get rid of his offending shirt and toss it behind you without a care in the world as Jungkook’s six pack has stolen all of your attention. As your hands explored the expanses of his newly exposed body, your feral nature returned. You and your mouth made the leisurely trip from his neck to his navel, gladly eliciting the occasional moan from Jungkook. 

When you reached your destination, you helped him remove his pants. But before you could attempt to take off his boxers, he flipped you so that he was on top and immediately began planting kisses all over your body making you squirm in the best way. 

“Jungkook, please.” You whine after he removes your bottoms. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make you feel good.” He breathed directly onto your center, causing you to shudder slightly. Your underwear joined the graveyard of clothes littering the hardwood floor when Jungkook spread your lips and lightly ran his tongue along your clit. You couldn’t help, but gasp and twitch at the brief spark of electricity that his actions brought. He held your thighs open to accommodate his head while holding your hips down right before dragging his tongue against your clit in a much more aggressive manner. 

Your hand instantly covered your mouth out of shocking pleasure. “Oh, fuck.” You mumbled against it. Your eyelids slowly fluttered closed as Jungkook continued to lap at your clit vigorously. It got harder to breathe as he carried on, pulling all kinds of sounds from you, both human and nonhuman. You finally thread your fingers through his now sweaty hair and grip it so that you could properly grind into his face. You could feel his extended canines grazing your flesh occasionally and the idea turned you on further.

“Oh my God, yes, Jungkook.” You moaned, sensing that your climax was well on it’s way. He suddenly slid a finger inside of you, grazing your g-spot, causing your back to arch immediately. “Oh my God, just like that.” You groaned as He inserted another long, thick finger into you, scissoring them this time. 

“Oh, that feels so good, please don’t stop, baby. Please make me cum.” You babbled in your lust filled stupor, hoping that sweet release would come soon. Jungkook focused on finding your g-spot repeatedly and never letting up on your clit, his face was literally buried in your pussy as if he didn’t need air to breathe. The sight in itself was enough to set you off. Your legs shook as you silently came all over your mates face. 

When it got to be too much you finally let go of the breath you were holding and let out a short shriek. Jungkook finally came up for air, continuing to scissor his fingers inside of you to make sure you would be stretched enough for him. He kissed you immediately, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue and lips, but you didn’t mind one bit. 

He separated himself and withdrew his fingers from you to remove his own underwear and find a condom. As he made his way back to you, you sat up and reached for his hard member in your second attempt to pleasure him, but you were pushed back on the bed for Jungkook to situate himself in between your legs. 

He took your chin in between his fingers and stared deeply into your eyes keenly. “We got the rest of our lives for that, but right now, I need to be inside of you.” He growled from deep within his chest, sending even more wetness between your legs. You only nodded showing you understood, sensing that Jungkook was in Alpha mode and just submitted yourself to him, allowing him to do what he wanted to you. 

He brought you closer to him, kissing you breathless while lining himself up at your entrance. 

“Are you ready?” He asked, making heated eye contact, his hand supporting the back of your neck to keep your foreheads pressed together.

“Yes.” You whispered with no hesitation at all. Jungkook inserted himself into you slowly, savoring the divine feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You on the other hand were trying not to let it show how much pain you were in. You felt every inch of him stretch you out, but the kisses that Jungkook peppered all over your face distracted from the pain. 

“You okay?” He panted, placing a kiss on your ear. 

“Yeah.” You decided after the pain dissipated. “Why do you have to be so big?” 

“That’s just what the spirits blessed me with, babe.” He laughed. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You breathed seductively, reaching down and grabbing his bare ass in your hands, pushing him into you at the new found pleasure. 

You both let out a satisfied grunt and Jungkook continues fucking you at a slow pace, both of you savoring the moment for as long as possible before you both grow impatient and frankly ravenous. 

Jungkook kneeled upright on the bed, his muscles rippling and covered in a sheen of sweat, his face contorted in pleasure above you. He guided you onto his cock at a rapid pace with his strong arms and hands gripping you at the waist, sure to make bruises in the near future. You couldn’t care less about the rest of the world around you, let alone bruises as you stare up at the glorious man above you in awe and adoration. You were both grunting and growling as you chased your highs together. Your inner wolves are nearly satiated from all these weeks of torture, it was so close you could taste it.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I think I’m gonna cum.” You rasp as you fist his sheets so hard that you think you heard a tear. 

He bends down to your ear and growls, “Let go, baby. Come for me. Only for me.” in the most beautifully fucked out voice you’d ever heard and you were seeing stars. You held his waist as close as possible to you with your legs and your eyes rolled back into your head at the amount of electricity running through your veins. In the midst of your mind shattering orgasm, Jungkook attaches his mouth to your shoulder and bites you, marking you as his mate, adding to your pleasure. Your body shook uncontrollably and you could swear you saw white at one point. 

As you were coming down, Jungkook’s thrusts were getting dicey and irregular, giving you a sign that he was close. You grip his face and stare into his eyes passionately.

“That’s it, babe. You fucked me so good. Only you make me feel so good. Now come for me, baby. Give it all to me.” You whimpered.

“Ugh, fuck, Y/N!” He shouted. You felt his dick twitch inside of you and you bit him on the shoulder as he came inside the condom, causing him to groan loudly and gaining you some extra thrusts toward the end as he was coming down. 

The two of you go on to kiss all over each other’s lips, faces and necks lovingly in post-coital bliss until eventually he rolls off of you and you lay side by side under the shredded covers, just staring up at the ceiling. Or so you thought. You turn your head to find that Jungkook is staring at you and you turn to face him. 

“I love you.” He says genuinely with a wistful expression on his face. You reach your hand out to stroke his cheek with a warm smile on your face. 

“I know.” You say as your eyelids become heavy. You snuggle into him, wrapping your arms around him and preparing for the best nap of your life. “I love you too.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook #hoseokmylovesworld #wolf!jungkook #wereowlf!jungkook #bts smut

[yeah-all-of-it]

I wrote a fic the other day (my first!) that included a brief appearance by an original character named Rhonda, who is Ian and Mickey’s neighbor across the hall. Decided to write a bit of a prequel, exploring how they came to be friends with her. It’s 2 parts because it’s 4.7k and I don’t have an Ao3 account. Link for part 2 is here and at the bottom. Hope you enjoy!

Spill Your Guts: Part I

“Mickey, shut the fuck up! We’ve only lived here for like four days!” Ian whispers, dragging his slightly inebriated husband down the hall toward their apartment door. “We don’t want everyone to hate us already!”

“No, you don’t want everyone to hate us. I don’t give a fuck.” Mickey replies.

“Mickey.”

Ian’s trying to convey irritation, but the truth is, he’s so giddy about the evening’s surprise anniversary party, he’s struggling to come off as anything other than completely fond of his loud-ass, thoughtful husband. He’s a little drunk himself which isn’t helping matters.

“What? The only person I want to like me is you, Gallagher,” Mickey says, trying to be only slightly quieter.

“And I do like you, very much. But it would be nice to make a couple friends here too. Waking people up at 2 am probably isn’t the best way to do that,” Ian explains.

Mickey stops walking and gently pushes Ian up against the wall, holding him in place with a hand on his chest. Mickey says slyly, “Oh, you like me, huh? How much? D’you like me… this much?” Mickey plants a soft kiss on Ian’s neck.

“Umm, yeah, I like you that much,” Ian responds.

“Okay. What about… this much?” Mickey steps closer, placing his hand on the side of Ian’s face and softly kissing his lips, just barely slipping his tongue in.

“Mmm, yeah,” Ian replies once Mickey pulls away. “I definitely like you that much.”

Mickey steps right up to Ian, pressing his body into the wall with his own. Their faces are so close, they can feel each other’s breath hitching. He slowly slides a hand down the front of Ian’s jeans.

“You like me this mu-,” he doesn’t even have the words out before Ian is devouring him. Bodies pressed together, hands gripping each other’s hair, tongues tangled together.

Things are so intense that they didn’t realize that they have somehow moved and are now up against their across the hall neighbor’s door.

The next thing they know, they are both plummeting toward the ground. It takes them a moment to realize that their neighbor, apparently hearing strange noises coming from her door, had opened the door they were leaning against.

Ian is flat on his back on the floor and Mickey is directly on top of him. Their arms are still wrapped around each other and it’s blatantly obvious what they’ve been up to.

“Do you know what time it is? I thought someone was trying to rob me! Scared the life outta me!” a slender lady, likely in her late 60s who had clearly been in bed based on her attire, yells at them.

The two men scramble to their feet, Ian panicking when he realizes that at some point Mickey had managed to undo his belt and his zipper. His plaid boxers were on full display as well as an obvious display of what’s underneath them.

“We’re… so, so sorry, ma’am,” Ian says sheepishly as he pulls his pants closed. “It won’t happen again.”

Ian grabs Mickey by the jacket and yanks him out the door and across the hall. He pulls out his keys and unlocks the door as quickly as he can, the neighbor eyeing them suspiciously the whole time. Once she’s presumably satisfied that they do actually live there and aren’t burglars, she closes the door to her own apartment.

They stumble through the doorway, slamming the door behind them and Mickey bursts into laughter.

“Holy shit, that’s one way to make friends, Gallagher! Wonder how long it’s been since that woman’s seen a dick?” Mickey laughs, as Ian’s face turns the same color as his hair.

———

It’s been almost a week since Ian inadvertently flashed their new neighbor and so far, they’ve managed to avoid running into her in the hallway.

Saturday morning, Mickey is sleeping in and Ian goes for an early run. He sneaks out the door, hoping the lady across the hall is still in bed, and walks quickly down the hall to the elevator. He manages to evade her again but when he returns, she opens her door before he’s able to get his key in the lock.

“Well, hello there,” she says cheerily. “Long time no see, neighbor!”

“Um, hi there,” Ian nervously replies.

“So, the name’s Rhonda. I figure we should be on a first name basis, you know, since I’ve seen your penis and all.”

Ian blushes and chuckles uncomfortably, but for some reason, finds himself feeling a little less embarrassed. He likes this woman already and they’ve barely spoken. She seems like a pretty no-nonsense, calls a spade a spade type of person.

“Oh, uh, I’m Ian. Ian Gallagher.”

“Well, Ian Gallagher, I was about to head out to the pool to get a little sun. Care to join me?” Rhonda inquires.

Ian looks down at his watch and figures Mickey will be asleep for at least another hour. And he does want to make friends.

“Umm, sure. That sounds nice,” he ultimately decides.

“Well, let’s get goin’ then!” she exclaims, linking her arm with Ian’s as they take off down the hall.

———

Once they reach the pool, they find two lounge chairs. Ian drags a patio umbrella over by his.

“Ginger,” he points to his hair. “I fry in the sun, even in the morning.”

Rhonda nods understandably as they kick back in their chairs.

“So,” she begins. “What’s your story, Ian Gallagher?”

“Umm, my story?” he answers, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’s just met this woman and his “story” is… a lot. They’d be here all day if he told the whole thing. He decides to stick to the basics.

“Well, I’m from the Southside. Born and raised. Have a huge family, five brothers and sisters. Got married last year and moved here with my husband a couple weeks ago.” He decides that’s enough of an introduction for now.

“That’s all? That’s your story? I imagine it’s way juicier than that, but I get it. You don’t know me. I’m sure we’ll get to the good stuff eventually,” she winks after she says it.

This Rhonda, there’s just something so warm and vibrant about her. She has long wavy hair, white with a little gray mixed in. She has on a bohemian style dress and some turquoise jewelry. Ian imagines she’s had quite a life, well traveled and all that. Probably been outside of Chicago more times than he’s been to the Alibi. Her laugh is melodious, and her voice is cheerful and friendly. She’s one of those people you instantly like, that makes you want to open up and share your deepest secrets with.

“So that man that you were ravaging in the hall the other night. Your husband?” Rhonda asks.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s Mickey,” he replies. “Sorry again, about the uh, disturbance that night. We had just come from our first anniversary party and were, um, celebrating. Mickey planned the whole thing as a surprise for me.”

“A surprise anniversary party? Well your Mickey sounds like an absolute gem.”

“Yeah, he really is.” Ian can’t hide his sweet smile and look of adoration in his eyes. It makes him so happy when others notice the goodness in Mickey.

“So, how’d you two boys meet?” Rhonda asks, like she’s waiting for Ian to give her the real dish.

“Uh, well, we’ve known each other since we were kids. Grew up around the block from each other. I didn’t even know he was gay too until we hooked up as teenagers. The rest is sort of complicated, but that’s the gist of it”, Ian replies, and hopes that satisfies her curiosity. He’d love to tell her more but the whole unvarnished truth is a lot to unload on someone you’ve just met.

“Another Cliff’s Notes version, I see, but I’ll accept it for now,” she laughs.

Ian glances down at his watch and notices the time. Mickey is surely awake by now.

“Listen, this has been really great but I need to get back upstairs. Mickey is probably awake and we always make a big breakfast together on Saturday mornings. He’ll be pissed if I’m not there to flip the banana pancakes.”

“Oh I understand! This has been lovely and we should certainly do it again soon, Ian Gallagher!” she says with that cheery voice. Makes it hard to say no.

“Absolutely, Ms. Rhonda. That sounds great.” Ian rises from his chair and heads back inside, offering her a friendly smile that she returns.

———

“Where the fuck you been?” Mickey inquires as Ian walks through the door, not heated, just a question.

“Good morning to you too,” Ian replies teasingly. “I went for a run, then I was sunning by the pool with Rhonda.”

“Rhonda? Who the fuck is Rhonda?” Mickey asks, confused.

“Uh, the lady that lives across the hall from us.”

“The lady that liv- the one that caught us the other night? The one that saw you with your cock out?” Mickey is growing slightly agitated.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“What’s she want with you? She tryin’ to pull some Mrs. Robinson shit on you? Saw somethin’ she liked?”

“Relax, Mickey. She’s just a friendly older lady. She didn’t do anything, we just talked for a bit. She’s nice,” Ian tries to assuage the situation. “Plus, you are aware I’m not attracted to women, right? And she’s old enough to be my grandma. Don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Whatever, man. Come in here and flip some fuckin’ pancakes.”

———

The next Saturday morning, Ian decides to skip his run and knock on Rhonda’s door to see if she wants to take a walk with him. He really enjoyed their chat last week; it felt good to talk to someone new, someone who had no preconceived notions about him or his life. He wanted to continue that.

He knocks on the door and Rhonda answers, dressed in lilac colored athletic wear, long hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was in remarkable shape for her 65+ years.

“Well hello, handsome. I was just getting ready to go do some yoga on the roof. Would you like to come?”

“Uh, sure,” he replies. “I was actually going to see if you wanted to come on a walk but yoga sounds nice. I’ve been wanting to try it but didn’t wanna go alone, and yoga’s not really Mickey’s thing so…” he drifts off.

“I have an extra mat, let me grab it and we’ll head upstairs!” Rhonda says cheerfully.

Once they’re all set up, Rhonda begins, ”I like to start my mornings with something called sun salutation. Do you know what that is?”

“No. I don’t really know anything about yoga, just that it’s supposed to be good for you. Always wanted to try it, especially since moving here. Show me?” Ian requests.

She walks him through step by step, reaching up to the sky and back down. They go through some basic flows, downward dog, warrior, tree pose, cat-cow. She makes sure he concentrates on his breathing.

“All done!” Rhonda chirps and they sit up from their final shavasana position.

Ian feels amazing. Relaxed and limber and strong. He’s surprised how difficult some of the poses are, especially because he’s always considered himself to be in pretty good shape. Yoga is definitely something he wants to continue. Rhonda really knows her stuff, too. Maybe he could convince Mickey to do yoga on the roof so he wouldn’t have to go to an actual class with people.

“Wow, Ms. Rhonda, that was incredible. I see why people love yoga. I feel amazing.”

“We can make this a regular thing, if you like,” she offers.

“Sure, I’d love that. Maybe I could bring Mickey sometime?” he asks.

“Sure thing, handsome!” She smiles at him.

“So, your Mickey. Tell me about him. What made you fall in love with him?” Rhonda asks casually, like she’s just making conversation but he knows she’s trying to dive deeper, get to know him better. He can’t figure out why she’s taken such an interest in him but she’s just so sincere. He can’t help but feel a connection with her.

“Well, Mickey is… complicated. He’s rough and tender. He’s vulgar and beautiful. He’s tough but so kind. He’s… everything.” Ian pauses and Rhonda doesn’t say anything, indicating she wants him to continue.

“He had a rough upbringing. I did too, actually, but not nearly as rough as his. I had druggy, absentee parents and was mostly raised by my older sister Fiona. Struggled to pay bills. Had to steal to survive sometimes. But Mickey…” Ian drifts off, not sure how much deeper he should go. There’s just something about this kind, welcoming woman in front of him that makes him want to open up. He wants to be careful though, as Mickey’s story isn’t entirely for him to tell. He wants to be respectful of that.

“Mickey was raised mostly by his dad who was in and out of prison. His dad was homophobic and violent and was awful to Mickey. Obviously he didn’t support us being together. Mickey had to hide who he truly was for so long which made it tough on our relationship. But we survived all that and Mickey now is just… he has rough edges. Anyone that is around him can see that. He’s Southside through and through. But when you really get to know him… he’s the best person I know. I guess that’s why I love him. Because he’s just… good. And he’s always had my back no matter what. He’s damn good in bed too, so there’s that,” he laughs.

“Oh trust me, I can tell you boys have no trouble in that department!” she cackles and Ian blushes.

Her tone turns a little more serious after that. “So when you say his father was homophobic and Mickey couldn’t be who he really was…” she leaves it open ended for Ian to fill in the blanks.

He sighs, “Yeah, um. His dad had threatened to kill him. And me. Actually tried, after our wedding. He caught us together once, years ago, naked in the living room. It was… really bad. Traumatizing but I won’t go into details. Mickey spent his whole life hiding deep in the closet because of his dad. My family always supported me and loved me no matter what, but Mickey didn’t have that. We had to hide our relationship for years which was tough. I just wanted to be a normal couple, be able to hold his hand in public, shit like that. But he was scared. Wanted to make his dad proud. He finally came out… I kinda pushed him which wasn’t my proudest moment. But he came out and his dad beat us up. It was awful, but he was out so it was kinda freeing too, I guess? I don’t know. Then there was my diagnosis in the midst of all this. I don’t really tell a lot of people about it but I’m bipolar. Did some crazy shit when I was in a bad manic state several years ago. Then spent some weeks in bed, couldn’t even get up. Mickey never left my side. I’m really not sure where I would have ended up if it wasn’t for him. He saved my life. I’m stable now, on meds that are working well for me. Plus Mickey is really good at picking up on shit, like if he thinks I’m starting to get depressed or something. He’ll say something or do something to help me through it, but like, subtle.” It’s all coming out like word vomit. But it feels so therapeutic at the same time, like just saying these words out loud lightens the weight of them.

“I don’t know. We broke up a few times over the years, forced apart by circumstances out of our control. Oh, and we were in prison together for awhile. We’ve been through some shit. We’d be here all day if I told you even half of it. But despite all that we found our way back to each other and never have to let go again.”

“How long have you two been together?” she asks.

“On and off for ten years. Since we were just dumb teenagers, banging secretly in the walk-in cooler at work,” Ian answers.

“Well that’s one hell of a story, Ian. I’m sorry things were bad for so long but I’m so happy you are in a good place now. Your Mickey sounds just wonderful though and I can’t wait to get to know him better. Maybe we could do dinner one night! I’m a pretty fantastic cook.”

“That actually sounds really great, thank you. I’ll check our schedule,” Ian replies.

“Anytime next week works so just let me know.”

They get up and begin to roll up their mats.

“You know, I just realized,” Ian states. “I don’t really know anything about you. I’ve just been droning on about myself. What’s your story?”

“Oh, Ian. I promise, we can discuss my wild life at dinner,” she laughs.

“Sounds perfect,” Ian smiles.

———

“We gotta do what?” Mickey complains.

“We are going over to Rhonda’s for dinner this Friday. It’ll be fun. She’s wonderful. You’re gonna love her. She’s really excited to get to know you better.”

“Better? You’ve already fuckin’ told her a bunch’a shit about me, haven’t you?” Mickey grumbles.

“Listen, Mick. Yes, I’ve given her the gist of our lives and our relationship, nothing too in depth. I didn’t go into great detail about your history because I didn’t think it was my place,” Ian explains. “Just told her how rough we had it in the past. She’s just so kind, and she really listens, no judgment.”

Mickey hesitates. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But if this woman isn’t as amazing as you say she is I’m leaving. Unless the food is really good or there’s free booze. Then I’ll stay.”

Ian just rolls his eyes and gives him a hug, whispering a quiet “thank you” in his ear.

———

Friday is here before Ian knows it. He’s chatted more with Rhonda this week, seeing her for a few minutes in the laundry room, waiting for his clothes to dry. Then again out by the pool when he went to swim some laps. They were both looking forward to dinner.

“Mick, you about ready? It’s almost 7,” Ian yells back to the bedroom from the living room.

Mickey walks out into the living room wearing his black skinny jeans with the ripped knees and a gray long sleeved waffle knit shirt with his black boots.

“Wow, Mickey, you look really nice.” Ian walks up and kisses him on the forehead. “You smell great too, what is that?”

“Some cologne I found at some fuckin’ hipster shop the other day. Thought it smelled nice. Wanted to make a good impression on your new best friend,” Mickey states, with a slight hint of feigned attitude.

“You’re my best friend, Mick. Rhonda’s just a nice lady that I enjoy talking to and hanging out with. She’s definitely a friend though, the only friend I’ve made here and I really like her company.”

“If you insist. Let’s go, I’m fuckin’ starving.”

PART 2

#gallavich fic #post season 11 #original character #ian and mickey #tw slight exploration of past trauma

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve

Title: Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~10K

A/N: Flashback Chapter set between Chapter 14: Superheroes and Chapter 15: Foyet. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The bar was thrumming with activity and the energy that accompanies people who've all had a long, hard day at work and would like to do nothing besides forget. The team had gotten back from a case in the evening, and with only Friday separating them and the weekend, had all decided to head out for a night of drinking.

You look around, your hands wrapped around a glass of scotch - Derek, Penelope, and Emily were dancing in the makeshift dancing area, JJ was playing darts with some guys, Spencer was cheating people out of their money at a game of pool, and Rossi had long ago excused himself to go sit by some woman at the bar. You'd be dancing too, but the unsub had gotten the jump on you during the takedown and you'd been nursing a sprained ankle ever since. Hotch had stayed with you - whether it was simply to keep you company or because none of the other activities appealed to him, you're unsure. Likely the former - he was pretty good at darts too.

He's sitting across from you in the booth, a glass of scotch in his hand as well. He doesn't make a face when he drinks it, which you have to admire - it was such a man thing. You only drank liquor to get drunk and had been surprised with the drink by Rossi, who had insisted that you needed to drink something stronger than a glass of wine after the day you'd had. You take another hesitant sip from your glass, trying hard not to give away how little you like it. He could've ordered you a mixed drink - something sweet so you didn't taste just pure alcohol.

"What've you got going on this weekend?" you ask Hotch. The case had been miserable all around and you wanted to talk about anything but that.

He looks up at you, the faint hint of a smile on his face. "Haley and I worked it out so that I can have Jack the entire weekend. I'll have to think of something to keep him occupied."

You knew that Hotch would be content to do nothing as long as it was with Jack, but he liked to make the most of their time together and did his best to plan things out that Jack would like. "I saw a poster that said the Air and Space Museum has some special exhibit on this month. It looked interesting." You knew Jack would enjoy that - his latest toy was a rocketship that went everywhere with him.

"Saturday?" he asks, eyebrow quirked up in question.

"Make it 11, and you've got a deal," you tell him, with a small smile. "I am no longer entertaining plans at 9am."

He lets out a slight huff. "If you just went to bed at a normal hour it wouldn't be that hard to wake up in the morning."

This was an old argument with the two of you. Hotch insisted on always being the first in line to any ticketed event. He hated waiting - he'd start to fidget and get annoyed and keep leaving the line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long.

"Take it or leave it." You were sticking your ground. He could use the lie in too, he'd just never admit it.

"We'll pick you up," he says, bringing his glass to his mouth and taking another sip, eyes meeting yours from above the rim.

It was interesting how you and Hotch had settled into this routine of constantly doing things with Jack. You reckon he likes having another adult around when he's out with Jack - it definitely made things easier to keep a little kid entertained. You'd once mentioned to Emily that you were having dinner with him and Jack and she'd looked at you a little oddly, saying that she'd been on the team forever and had never once had dinner with her boss and his kid. You'd responded by telling her that she probably wouldn't enjoy it all too much - Emily liked kids just fine, but her and Hotch tend to get on one another's nerves a bit after a while. They were far too different even if they did work well together. Hotch would try and fail at limiting her to two glasses of wine with dinner and she'd annoy him by just putting the dishes straight into the dishwasher without caring how she did it.

"Someone sent this over for you." You turn to see the waitress place a drink at your table, and indicate towards a man in a wrinkled suit, seated at the bar, who waves at you.

You can feel your face turn into a grimace as the waitress looks at you expectantly. You avoid looking at Hotch across the way. You didn't need to see his reaction. "Would you mind telling him thanks, but, no thanks for me?" you ask her apologetically.

She nods understandingly, taking the drink back and walking towards the bar.

You turn to look at Hotch, completely exasperated. It was nice. It was a nice gesture - sending a girl a drink. Friendly. Yet, you're just a little at your wit's end lately when it comes to men. It all just feels superficial.

Hotch can read you pretty well by now, so he asks if you're alright.

You look at his concerned face. You know why - usually you don't mind this sort of thing. Hell, you pretty much encourage it with the way you act, flirting with nearly everyone simply because you can. It's like a sport to you.

"Are you asking as my boss or as my friend?" you ask him, eyes cast down towards your drink, following patterns in the wood of the table.

"Friend," he says, adjusting to lean in a bit more towards you.

Sighing, you shift a bit, dropping your leg from where you'd been keeping it elevated next to him. "Lately, I just feel like I can't get guys to see me. Like every guy I meet, they either want to date me or kill me," you tell him, referring to your job. "But beyond that, it's like I don't even matter."

Hotch nods understandingly at your frustration, his face a grimace at your explanation. He's unable to deny that that is very much the case when it comes to women quite often - especially in your line of work. You're all far too aware of the horrors of dating, being called in on numerous cases on dating gone wrong. "Aren't you still seeing that guy - Kensington?" he asks with a slight uptick of his jaw.

"Well, if you can call seeing someone six times over the course of about an equal number of months, then yes I suppose so," you scoff lightly. "Twice we got called in on cases halfway, once he got interrupted by a work emergency, and then most recently I accompanied him to an event at which most of the other dates were the kind that demand a retainer in exchange for services rendered," you say, alluding to the super model types you'd kept company at Cedric's business event a couple of weeks back. You could fit into his world quite easily, but you didn't want to. You'd left that behind for a reason.

Hotch chuckles slightly at that, amused at your tone and manner in which you referred to women who were essentially either escorts or sugar babies. You didn't really fit that mold - of that he was quite certain. For one, you definitely didn't need the money.

"Don't get me wrong, I actually do like him. We get one another and our background and upbringing is similar enough. He makes me laugh. However our schedules - both of ours - are highly unconducive to dating and in his line of business he needs a girlfriend who can leave everything at the drop of a hat to stand by his side."

"So unless you leave your job or he leaves his, it won't work out," Hotch finishes your thought for you, a resigned expression on his face in commiseration.

"Exactly. Which is a shame because he's actually one of the good ones. He's rich but not pompous, educated and intelligent without being condescending about it, and actually shows genuine interest in me and my job. Believe it or not, as basic as those things might seem, they are actually difficult to find all in one man."

He hums. "I can imagine," he says, taking another sip of his drink, a slightly amused expression on his face. You rarely talked to him about your dating life so he was actually very interested in this insight. He wonders briefly if there's any significance to you having listed the fact that Kensington was wealthy before any of his other qualities. From what he knows of you, he doubts you'd truly care if your partner had money or not. More than likely it merely helped establish a commonality, nothing more. However, from what he does know of the men you've dated recently, they all appear to be quite well off nonetheless.

"Anyways, all that is to say that I'm not exactly looking to entertain complete strangers in bars at the moment. I don't trust my luck."

"Probably for the best, anyways," Hotch comments, appraising the crowd at the bar. There really didn't appear to be anyone worth talking to - especially none of your caliber, per his judgement.

"What about you? How's the post divorce dating scene?" you question, feeling a little bolder than you usually might, since the two of you are already discussing the matter. Turnabout was fair play.

He's a little surprised at your forwardness. You tend to do your best to not meddle in his personal business, despite the amount of time you two spend together. He believes it's your way of maintaining some modicum of professionalism to your outings. Your conversations tend to revolve around cases, your classes from college, an article in the newspaper, or the ever present game the two of you like to play of profiling complete strangers walking by. He says its to hone your skills, but really he just enjoys how invested you get - how competitive and passionate, color rising in your cheeks as you defend your assessment, annoyance tinging your tone as you disagree with him, admiration when he notes something you hadn't, and pride when he praises your observations, your cheeks flushed a prettier pink and your eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"I wouldn't know," he discloses, a slight flush in his cheeks. He hadn't dated at all since the divorce. He hadn't had the time and he hadn't really had interest in anyone. Not when you exist, so overtly present in his day to day life. He knows he's - in some capacity - using the outings with you and Jack as the closest thing he's got to dating again. Not to say that it was that - dating. However the fact that his weekends were typically filled by you and his son made it so he wasn't exactly left wanting.

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Their divorce had been a while back now - you knew for a fact that Haley was dating, having ran into her with some man when you'd offered to drop Jack off for Hotch when you all got called in on a case last minute. You hadn't mentioned it to him, but you're sure he knew as well. "You're joking. Really? No one?"

"You might recall, I got divorced because I didn't have the time for my existing relationship. A new one requires quite a bit more attention than that," he says dryly, self deprecation dripping from every word.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at him as you stir your drink with the toothpick it came with, spearing the cherry inside and popping it into your mouth.

"You should just go for it next time we're in some whatever town. Every female detective we've encountered constantly gets all moony eyed around you," you inform him matter-of-factly. They're all so obvious too, eyes always drawn to his ring finger in search of a wedding band, and upon finding it empty, hanging onto his every word. Flicking their hair and fluttering their lashes at him, keen on proving themselves to be competent by sticking their noses into the profile.

"That's hardly true," he contradicts, shaking his head, the color in his cheeks having creeped down his neck.

You chuckle at that. "Maybe you're not as good of a profiler as you think you are."

He glares at you, however the lightheartedness remains in his eyes so you know you're in the clear for your jab.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is, whenever you decide to get back on that proverbial horse, I think you won't find a shortage of options," you tell him kindly. After all, Hotch worked harder than any of you. He deserved to find happiness again.

He rolls his eyes at your statement ever so slightly. His right hand was a much less complicated and demanding lover for the time being - he was making do just fine.

"So, on to the next for you then?" he asks, attempting to divert attention back to you and your existent dating life rather than him and his non-existent one.

You shake your head, a humorless smile appearing on your face as you start to feel just slightly light headed from the alcohol. Maybe accepting random pain killers from Emily hadn't been quite the right move. "Nah," you mumble into your drink. "Cedric can stay, if only because I don't have an actual good reason to end it yet. Besides him, the other two on the back burner are quickly losing what little appeal they held to begin with. I might actually take a break."

Hotch smiles as if he doesn't quite believe you're capable of actually taking a break. Your reputation for never being without a date far preceded you.

Truth be told, at first it was simply easier to always be dating someone in the aftermath of the John wreckage. If you could constantly keep yourself occupied and distracted in that area, while you actually gave turning straight a fair shot, then maybe you'd make it through instead of going crawling back to his bed. Maybe you'd stop seeing his broken face when you told him you couldn't be with him. Maybe the memory of leaving him standing alone in front of that tattoo parlor in the Village wouldn't cause your heart to ache and rebel against your own actions. Maybe. Just maybe.

Now, the pain of Julian's death and the subsequent fallout with your family was merely hurtful when you chose to think of it or were reminded of it inadvertently It was no longer ever present. That seemed like progress. Like somehow despite everything - the pain and torture you'd inflicted upon both you and John had somehow been worth it if it meant you could go to sleep without thinking of Julian. Wake up without your father's face looming ever present in your mind.

You and Hotch look up when you see the rest of the team approaching the table one by one as the night drew to a close. It was last call and about time to head home so you could all have a hope of making an appearance at the office the next day.

"You want a ride home?" Hotch asks you, noticing your slight struggle to get out of the booth.

"It's totally out of your way," you protest, yanking your coat on and fishing for your keys in your pocket.

"I insist, come on. You can't drive properly with that sprain right now. He walks towards you and placing his hand at your lower back, guides you out of the bar behind the rest of the team. "Your car should be fine and we can grab it in the morning."

You know he's right, so you allow yourself to lean against him ever so much more, letting him help you out to his car. Hotch helps you in and closes the door behind you, before walking around to the driver's side. You take control of the music, plugging in your phone, intent on introducing him to more modern music. The two of you made it through seven Top 50 songs on the drive to your place, Hotch complaining throughout and not finding anything redeemable in any of the songs you'd chosen.

Aaron looked over at you as he neared your house, your head moving along to the music and your fingers dancing across your thighs to the tune, a large grin plastered on your voice as you tried to convince him that this this one he surely had to enjoy. He actually didn't mind most of the music you picked out to introduce him to - you didn't just pick anything, you always did your best to pick something you thought he'd truly enjoy. However, he worried that if he started to openly like any of them, you might stop trying so hard.

He pulled into your driveway and walked around to help you out of the car, lending you a hand along the path and up the steps to your door. He stands on the lower step as you unlock the door, before you turn around to tell him goodbye. When you turn, you're almost at his height due to the different steps you two are stood upon and you're not quite sure what compels you, but you reach for him and lean in to a hug, tucking your head onto his shoulder. If he's surprised he doesn't react as such, wrapping his arms around you as well briefly.

"Thanks Hotch."

"I'll pick you up at 8:30AM tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sounds good. I'll be the one standing right here, holding the cups of coffee."

He smiles, rolling his eyes just slightly, before turning around and walking away.

*------------*

He first becomes aware of only pain. A piercing, stabbing pain that he can feel everywhere, centered around the abdominal area. He can't move, everything feels heavy. Opening his eyes is a struggle and he manages to only open his eyes a fraction, before being forced to close them tight again. It was bright. White and too bright for his sensitive eyes.

He's slowly starting to realize where he is - becoming increasingly aware of the pain and the bandages, the needle connecting an I.V. to his arm - he's in a hospital. He tries to remember what happened - he'd dropped you off, waited until you made it inside and waved him off, before leaving. He'd gotten back to his apartment. It had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Then Foyet was there. After that all he recalls is pain and Foyet's voice - over and over and over.

Do I seem impotent now?

You should've made the deal.

This will never be over.

Aaron finds it too difficult to keep his eyes open and closes them once again, slipping under.

The next time he wakes, a technician was present and the girl quickly hurried out when she noticed him move.

Once the nurses became aware that he was conscious, it had been a flurry of activity - doctors and technicians in and out to ensure he was alright and to up the pain medication. Some talk about internal bleeding and nine stab wounds to which he'd simply nodded along. He tried to ask for Dave - someone who could make sense of all of this. They told him no visitors yet, but that family had been informed.

Once Dave enters, that's when he finds out everything. Foyet had dumped him outside the hospital. After he hadn't shown up to pick you up that morning, you'd raised the alarm and Garcia had tracked him down. Nothing was missing from his apartment from what they could tell, despite the mess. The only thing left out was his address book. Dave had it with him and Aaron looks through it, going immediately to the one page that mattered. It wasn't there.

Haley Brooks.

Rossi had sent you to go get Haley since the Marshalls were getting ready for her. You'd left Jack with JJ, assuring him that you'd be right back. He'd already seen his father and you'd watched from a distance as Hotch had adjusted to sit up, insistent on not letting his son see him as anything but alright, even in the context of a hospital bed. Haley had been with them and you watched as her eyes flitted from Hotch to Jack - fear for her son and what he might have to go through, due to his father's job, her main concern. She was worried for Hotch too, of course. She must be. However, their initial interaction that you'd witnessed hadn't been quite how you'd expect a wife to react to her husband being in a hospital. Though, you suppose, she wasn't really his wife anymore. Not that it mattered to him - you're pretty sure in his eyes, she might as well still be.

You approach, and you can hear Hotch and Haley in conversation about what's going to happen next. Foyet had taken only the page in his address book with her name on it, so his intentions were perfectly clear. Haley and Jack were being targeted by a serial killer. That meant they needed to be protected, and you knew that Hotch would have to break it to her.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Haley asks. You can hear the uncertainty in her voice. You wait outside, trying not to eavesdrop but it was impossible not to overhear.

"No I don't. And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

"Jack has school, Aaron. He has friends. I have a job now." Her voice is accusing and you want to tell her that none of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is the two of them being safe.

"I know. And I'm sorry. We will catch him. And you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you." Hotch's voice comes out low and you can hear the anguish caught in his throat as he speaks to the mother of his child - telling her to take their son and go. Breaking his own heart in the process by keeping Jack away from him. Knowing that that is exactly what Foyet wants. Wants him to suffer.

"Are you sure that we're in danger?" she asks, her voice suggesting that maybe he was overreacting. You feel a surge of anger course through you at that. For her to even suggest that he was overreacting when he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stab wounds was simply…you didn't have the words. He wouldn't make her go through this over nothing!

"Yes."

You decide to intervene then. Before she can question it further and agitate him more. He needed to rest. You knock quickly, alerting them both to your presence. "Haley, the Marshalls are ready for you."

She nods and grabs Hotch's hand. You avert your eyes to give them their privacy as Hotch tells her to be brave and strong. He'll see her and Jack after she's met with them.

Haley walks towards you and you point her to the tall female agent standing at the end of the ICU doors, wearing non-descript clothing in order to not garner too much attention. She nods and looks at you, and you see a hint of something pass through her eyes, like she wants to speak, but then seems to think better of it and walks towards the direction you'd pointed her in.  

You watch her go, before turning to Hotch. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, and then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You hesitate for a second, before walking in. Your presence wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, you hope, so you walk towards the bed and take a seat in the chair to his left, waiting until he decides to look at you.

"How're you feeling?" His face is turned towards you as though he's partially surprised you're even there at all. You wonder if he would've preferred you have left him alone instead.

"They're got me some pretty strong meds," he tells you, indicating towards the I.V. drip connected to his arm.

You lean over and read the chart hanging from the side of the bed, eyes glancing over it. "They got you on all of the good stuff - Hydromorphone will get the job done for sure." You try to smile but you know it won't reach your eyes right now.

"How long did it take you to sound the alarm?"

You shift, tilting the chair to look at him better, your teeth worrying your bottom lip and eyes narrowed, trying to work out why he'd ask that. The smell of a hospital was starting to get to you a bit - that odd smell that feels like despair and cleaning supplies. "Ten minutes. At 8:35, I called your cell and you didn't pick up. I called again at 8:36 and 8:37 and 8:38. At 8:39 I told myself I was acting crazy and that the weird feeling I had wasn't anything really. I just needed some breakfast. At 8:40, I called Penelope and had her track you down." You remembered the ten minutes of pure panic you'd gone through when he hadn't been outside at exactly 8:30AM. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. With Hotch, you'd expected him to be there at 8:25AM and so you'd been ready to go by 8:15AM with a travel mug of coffee for the both of you in each hand. He also always texted you when he left his place to come to yours and you hadn't gotten an ETA text that morning. Maybe that's what had originally put you on edge.

He looks at you, an odd look on his face at your explanation as if he's trying to decide what to make of it - the entirely detailed and rambling explanation he got from you, likely catching him off guard a bit. Great, he thinks I'm insane.

A small smile makes its way to his face however, and you're glad he's still capable of that, despite everything. You haven't yet looked down at his bandages. Foyet had stabbed him nine times. You'd seen the notes that Rossi had taken - what Foyet had said to Hotch as he stabbed him. Talking about how Hotch has profiled him as being impotent. The mere act of stabbing Hotch while taunting him with that particular piece of the profile -it filled your stomach with churning acid. It was the closest to sexual assault that Foyet could inflict upon Hotch and you're trying hard not to think about the emotional and mental ramifications of it all for him. The physical was one thing - that's something that people can move past with time. The violation of one's home and one's body however - the toll that takes on ones being and sense of self - that's much more difficult to bury.

Just to even think that he was exaggerating - you're mad all over again at Haley. You shouldn't be. You know that isn't fair at all. She was having her whole life upended. And yet…he was the one in a hospital bed and you're having a hard time recalling her seeming at all concerned for him. She must've been, of course. But…he didn't deserve to be made to feel like shit because of it. It wasn't his fault. Knowing him, he really would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

You avert your eyes to stare at the wheels at the bottom of the bed. They'd wheeled him, unconscious, past you when you'd first arrived at the hospital, not bothering to go into the office and instead arriving straight from your place via a cab. You'd been the first one there, having Garcia call the rest of the team. You'd called Rossi so that he could be the one to call Haley. He'd known her longer. You'd limped your way into the ICU, bypassing every single security check with a flash of your badge.

Pointless really. They wouldn't let you see him. Family first. You had to wait for Haley and Rossi to arrive - they were his emergency contacts. You briefly wondered if that was because he'd never bothered to update it after the divorce or if that was truly still the case - if she would be the person he'd want to have during an emergency.

"Can I say something?" Your voice comes out small and hesitant. He hadn't said anything in the wake of your explanation earlier.

He nods, looking at you curiously.

You wet your lips, clearing your throat a bit and sitting up straighter. It's not your place, and yet.. someone should say it. Someone should tell him.

"Sometimes, when we love people, we allow them to hurt us. We allow them to ignore our pain in favor of elevating their own. We allow them to bypass our feelings and our needs because we believe we aren't as worthy of having what we need acknowledged. I get why, of course. Especially right now, but.." You trail off, not knowing how to finish what you'd started in a way that didn't complete overstep the boundaries that you'd already crossed. He'd know you had heard. He didn't need to know that right now, you didn't exactly love his ex wife. You liked her just fine. But right then, you didn't appreciate how she'd treated him.

Hotch looks at you, breath caught by your words. He hadn't realized you'd overheard the conversation between him and Haley. There could be no other reason for you to be saying all of that. You'd said it all softly, hesitantly, knowing you were crossing some sort of line and yet you'd still said it because you felt he needed to hear it. We love.. We allow… We believe… You were speaking from some amount of personal experience. Your first question to him had been about how he was doing - unlike both Rossi and Prentiss who had asked him what happened. He's not sure why the distinction matters, yet it does.

Haley was right too, however. He can't be upset with her. This was all his fault. He hadn't made a deal with Foyet and now his family - his son - their lives were being upended. Haley had already put up with a lot during their marriage. The divorce should've meant that she no longer had to bear the consequences of his job. He can't help but feel guilty for that - for putting her in this situation. Especially when he's so overtly aware that he could've kept it from happening.

He watches as you sit in that chair, eyeing him apprehensively, chewing on your bottom lip. You care. He can tell you care. You care so overwhelmingly that it's hard to deny it. Sometimes he wishes you didn't. It would make things a lot easier on him if he could think that he felt something for someone that didn't even think about him - that he never crossed your mind even. However, there's far too much proof to the contrary. So instead he has to live with knowing that you care about him, that you think of him, that you likely - in some capacity - love him. The way one might love a friend or a mentor. Somehow that's worse because he has to then deal with you saying stuff like this. Things that make it seem like only you care.

He doesn't know what to say and he can feel tears forming that he's quick to blink away, hoping you hadn't noticed. He swallows and just nods, not trusting himself to say much of anything that didn't involve asking you to stay - possibly forever, because for the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, he feels seen.

You try to smile and change the subject, fill him in on the Marshalls' plan with Haley and Jack. Offer to get him ice chips or some food that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. He notices how at ease you seem in the hospital, and comes to the conclusion that maybe a family member had spent some time in one. You seem to know which nurses to talk to in order to get whatever you needed. You watch like a hawk when they come to do anything with his medications. He's pretty certain you would've slept there overnight had Rossi not asked you to help Morgan with something on the ongoing case.

He misses you as soon as you leave.

*------------*

You catch Jack and Haley on your way out. You know you won't be seeing Jack for a while. The Marshalls would be taking them today. Everything was going to change for them.

You nod at Agent Montgomery - the U.S. Marshall that's going to be on their case for the time being. She shifts, moving to the doorway to give you guys a moment.

Haley is seated at the table, her hands holding onto some paperwork. She meets your eyes briefly and nods before returning to the documents. There's a pen in her hands and you can't help but note that her fingers shake around it a bit.

Jack is seated at another table nearby, Agent Montgomery having cleared the breakroom for their meeting.

"Hey buddy." You kneel down to where Jack has been sitting, coloring a printout that one of the nurses must've provided. Jack turns to you, showing off his work. "That looks amazing, Jack!"

He beams with pride at your praise. "Thanks, Y/N."

"I have to head out, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

Jack gets up and hugs you, wrapping his little pudgy arms tightly around your neck, allowing you to sweep him up entirely. You know this is the last time you'll get to hold him for quite a while, so you allow it to linger, hugging him back tight. "I love you, Jack." Whispered into his ear while you blink back tears.

You release him and stand, making sure he's settled back into his activity and occupied, before turning to Haley. She stands, walks with you a small distance away from Jack. It isn't fair, what's happening to her. You don't really hold anything against her. It's awful, entirely awful what's happening - her whole life was about to be uprooted because of your jobs. Because of all of your collective failure to catch Foyet the first time. It was your mistake and her and Jack were going to pay for it.

You look up at her and you can see how entirely scared she is of what's about to happen. To have to do this on your own was one thing. Doing it with a partner, another. To have to do it all alone while supporting a child - she wouldn't have anyone she knew to rely upon. All by herself and unable to trust anyone.

"We're going to find him. We're gonna catch him. I promise." You know words were of little solace but that's all you have to give right then.

She smiles, a watery smile to match the unshed tears in her eyes. There's a shaky nod before she moves forward, hugging you in much the same manner Jack had. She's a bit taller than you, so you try to stand straight, allowing her to lean against you. "Take care of him." Her voice is a whisper against your ear, as though she's entrusting you with something extremely precious. Which she is, you suppose. She's counting on you to make sure that Hotch would be alright. That Jack's father would be fine, awaiting his son's return.

"I will."

*------------*

It had been a week since Foyet had left Hotch outside the hospital. A week since Haley and Jack had been taken into WITSEC protective custody and given new identities in an unknown location. A week since Morgan had become the new acting Unit Chief of the BAU, taking over in Hotch's stead. To the public - to the outside world - and especially to Foyet, it had to seem like his attack on Hotch had left him completely alone and broken - no wife, no kid, no team to lead.

You hated it.

The team had been assigned a new case late Sunday evening after you'd all pretty much spent the past couple of days in the hospital. Hotch was discharged earlier in the day and was under strict orders to stay on bedrest for the time being. You'd all flown out early Monday morning and it was now Saturday evening, the case having stretched out the entire week due to the Unsub's kill schedule.

You got back home after submitting your report, grabbing a water and a pack of the little bunny crackers you keep on hand for Jack. You're pretty sure you won't be seeing Jack before those expire and someone should eat them. You shower and get dressed for bed, thinking about Hotch. You knew he was home and would be coming back to work next week, doing the absolute bare minimum bed rest that the doctor had mandated. You're fairly certain the doctor had been intimidated into it by Hotch's severe face, daring him to say anything longer than a week.

It's fairly late by the time you actually crawl into bed, plugging your phone into the charger by the nightstand and flickering off the lights, plunging the room into darkness save for the red glow of the alarm clock stating that it was now eleven o'clock. You wonder if anyone has checked in on him while the team has been away. Perhaps Jess, but she must also be out of her mind with worry about Haley and Jack.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you've grabbed your phone and scrolled to his name in your Favorites, pressing on it. You hold the phone up to your ear and listen as it rings, once, twice, thrice, until you hear the sound of it being picked up.

"Hotchner." His voice is low but doesn't sound sleepy, so you're at least confident that you hadn't woken him up. Having nothing to do but lay around must be messing with his carefully regulated sleep schedule.

You suppress a laugh at his formal no-nonsense greeting, even though he undoubtedly knows it's you. "Hey." Your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Is everything alright?" There's a slight edge evident in his voice and you realize that maybe calling him at eleven at night when his wife - ex-wife - and kid are being kept away safe wasn't exactly the right move.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's alright. I'm sorry. I just called to check in. How are you?"

There's a pause where you can hear the ambient sounds of your house settling in along with him shifting - the rustling of a bedsheet and the groan of the frame as he moves to adjust himself. So he had been in bed when you called.

Finally, you hear, "I'm alright. Thank you for dropping off the food."

"Yeah, yeah of course," you respond, your heartbeat picking up a bit for some reason. You figure it's because you're unsure of the call itself still and knowing that Hotch was in bed and you'd likely disturbed him in some sense at least, makes you feel a little uneasy.

For his part, Aaron had been going stircrazy, sitting at home with nothing whatsoever to do. The Marshalls had taken Haley and Jack the very same day. Dave had taken him from the hospital and back to his apartment and Garcia and JJ had dropped by the same day with some groceries and a couple of ready to eat meals for him.

He spent most of Sunday sleeping, the strong painkillers making him drowsy. Monday morning, he awoke to his doorbell and his nurse, Eric, from the hospital was there to help him with the dressage. He didn't think that was covered by his insurance - he could only imagine how much home visits from a medical professional cost - and had told Eric there was some sort of mistake. However, Eric had insisted that someone at the hospital had already worked it out and insurance wasn't an issue - this was a covered service apparently. Since Aaron already knew him, and he really could use the help, he'd let him in. Eric had entered holding a large box of food as well, that he said had been left at the door along with a note. After Eric left, Aaron had opened the box to reveal pre-portioned meals - all homemade, all different, all things he could throw in a microwave easily. The note was just signed with your name, telling him to call if he needed anything else.

He'd slept through most of the days, awakening only to let Eric in daily. He ate only because he had to in order to take his medications. Otherwise his mind was a haze of thoughts and worries - worrying about Jack and Haley, about Foyet being around the next corner, about the team managing without him, and somewhere at the farthest reaches of his mind your face danced around - worried and concerned for him, despite doing your very best to appear otherwise.

When your name flashed across his phone late at night, at first he felt the thrust of panic - that something had happened. And then there's your voice, calm and even, asking him how he's doing. No one else had called him. Dave and Prentiss had texted once or twice over the week, but with a case going on, everyone had been busy.

There's a brush of silence after he thanks you for the food and he can hear you take a breath and shift ever so much. He realizes that you're calling him while most likely lying in bed. It causes his heart to speed up and a tight coil to begin tightening in his stomach. It's utterly benign - he has no reason to feel that way, and yet, yet he does.

"How was the case?" he asks, desperate for someone to speak with, not wanting the phone call to end.

You're slightly surprised but you easily talk him through the details of the case, the profiling process and how the team had approached it. You find yourself babbling on for a while as he asks you questions about the evidence, how the local detectives had been, how the team was doing.

Aaron listens to you, taking it all in. You're good at this, providing all the details you know he'd want. You notice everything, all the little things. How the local detectives had responded to Morgan being in charge - how it had been easier for JJ to liaise with them more closely instead. How Reid was getting much more comfortable with having a weapon in the field. There's a soft, sleepy quality to you despite your obvious willingness to tell him everything. Your voice like a salve, doing more for him than any of the medications the doctors had prescribed.

He's not sure when or how, but the conversation has meandered from the case to something Prentiss had told you once, to a story he had of Dave and Gideon back when he first joined the team, and then to a professor of yours from college who had been particularly invested in the Bundy trials in a near obsessive manner. He finds himself laughing for the first time since that night at the bar with you.

When his eyes next catch the time, it is past 2AM. You'd been on the phone for the past three hours. Before this, the longest phone call he's ever had was fifteen minutes.

"It's late," he whispers, almost as though he doesn't want you hear him. "You should get some sleep."

You glance at your clock and find yourself shocked at how long the two of you had been on the phone together. Who knew Hotch was even capable. Though, you figure, you'd been doing the bulk of the talking, rambling on about something or the other. He must be utterly exhausted of listening to your voice.

"You should too," you murmur through a yawn, your eyes flickering under the weight of your lashes.

"Good night, Y/N." You can hear a smile in his voice and it's almost as though you can feel him - the way he feels when he hugs you, warm and strong, firm against you, surrounding you completely with his being.

"Night Hotch."

*------------*

Hotch had been back a couple of weeks and the team was adjusting. While Morgan was indeed the public face of the team, Hotch was very still involved and working far too much behind the scenes. You've kept an eye on him, looking for signs of him overexerting himself. He is, of course. He's burying himself in work, diving in head first because that's likely easier than focusing on everything else. So far, all you've done is give him looks that say Shouldn't you be going home? and Is this really what you want to spend a Wednesday at 9PM doing? He doesn't acknowledge them openly but you know that he knows that you see exactly what he's trying to do. He'll leave once he realizes that you're staying if he is.  

You're not quite sure how to check on him during the weekends. Before, you used to have Jack as the reason why you saw him. Now, without Jack, you're not quite sure how to go about seeing Hotch and making sure he's alright, without it somehow being seen as overstepping. You nudge Rossi to go check on him one of the days and then another, you invited the entire team over for dinner so that you know he ate. You know he won't let you cook for him if he's no longer on bedrest, even though the way he holds his gun and the sharp inhale he takes anytime he has to put the Kevlar on is extremely telling.

JJ wants everyone in the conference room on the other side of the floor since your regular one is taken and she calls you to inform everyone of the change in venue for the scheduled meeting. You glance up from your desk after having told Derek and Emily of the location change, trusting them to tell Spencer when he returns. JJ isn't expecting everyone for another half hour, and Emily had caught Rossi as he was heading out to lunch, so he's also aware. Emily and Derek follow in his steps, asking if you're going to join them, but you wave them on ahead.

You take the steps up to Hotch's office swiftly, knocking and turning the knob in one motion, only to find him standing behind his desk, no jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned, a patch of red visible on his skin from one of the stab wounds inflicted by Foyet. He looks up at you and you can feel the surprise in his eyes. It was your fault, you should've waited. That was stupid. Your eyes can't seem to look away from the blood spotting the otherwise white wrappings that sit in a pile on the desk.

"I - I'm sorry," you stutter out, blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of you. You notice that his shirt was also equally marred, the blood having seeped through. You'd obviously interrupted him.

He draws a breath, and you can see him try to put on a mask of being unbothered by your sudden appearance. "Did you need something?"

'Um, JJ had to move the briefing to the other conference room," you inform him, still unable to look away. You're staring. You know are. It's dawning upon you how entirely you'd fucked up. Hotch was such a private person. He'd hate having someone see him in such a state of vulnerability.

He nods. "Thank you. Could you close the door, please?"

You don't move from your spot in the doorway.

"Y/N?"

You're not sure what exactly has overcome you, except this overwhelming need to take care of him. Especially now, right then when he's hurting. Bleeding quite literally. Hotch takes care of everyone. Every single one of you. But no one takes care of him. Not the way he needs to be cared for.

You cross the threshold, shutting and locking the door behind you. He seems entirely taken aback as you approach him silently. There's a voice in your head telling you that this, right here, this was the definition of overstepping. Yet, there is a more insistent compulsion residing within you, urging you forward until you've reached him. He looks at you, confusion in his features.

"Let me." You reach for the alcohol wipes on the table, meant to disinfect the affected region.

He doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't move, making it difficult for you to actually reach him as he's standing flush to his desk. He only looks at you, brows scrunched together, the pronounced cleft of his lower lip set tightly.

"Let me." You repeat yourself, moving forward and forcing him to back up a little and make room for you. You deftly move to sit on his desk, facing him, and beckon him towards you without looking up. If you looked up, you might lose your nerve.

You part your legs and much to your surprise, he actually moves forward, coming to settle between them. You can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You're suddenly very aware of the friction between his dress pants and the material of your own fitted ones.

You take the alcohol wipe and tear open the packaging, unraveling the cloth before cautiously moving towards him and dabbing at the area that seemed to have opened up slightly. He releases a sharp hiss and suddenly, his hand is at your waist, gripping tightly. You pause, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut, lips pressed tightly together. After a second, he nods, indicating at you to continue. He doesn't make a sound again as you clean up the area, though he does tighten his grip ever so slightly a couple more times.

You look at the items on his desk and pick up the jar of salve that he must put on prior to the dressings. Carefully, you unscrew the lid, looking up at him with a question in your eyes. He nods again, barely looking at you.

You try to do it quickly. Fingers picking up some of the salve and gingerly spreading it over the region, brushing past raised skin, puckered up as it heals. Slowly. Not fast enough for him.

Aaron watches as your head is bent, teeth biting down on your lower lip in concentration as you gently span the entirely of his chest and stomach. Soft, dainty fingers quickly working so as to put him out of his misery faster.

Of all people, he didn't want you to see him this way. So vulnerable, so exposed, so scarred. You'd thrown him off balance when you hadn't quickly scampered away after you realized your error in barging in. Approached him with such purpose that he hadn't known how to turn you away.

You reach for the fresh roll of gauze next, swallowing as you look up at him once again. "This would be easier if you take the shirt off."

He shrugs it off at your words, placing it on the back of his chair. There's a fresh shirt on the seat of his chair. He'd been prepared, it would seem.

"This might put a dent in the line of women waiting to pounce." He indicates towards his chest, self deprecation dripping from his weak attempt at humor, in an effort to cut whatever imaginary tension he had made up in his head.

You look at his face, seeing the vulnerability and insecurity as plain as can be. He doesn't need to verbalize his thoughts in order for you to know exactly what he's thinking. What he's been thinking.

Who would want someone this grotesque?

Who would want a man as broken as this?

Who could possibly bear the sight of him - marred forever? His very flesh a perpetual reminder of the terror he wades through, the monsters he encounters, the horror that is his life.

"No."

Your answer is simple, straightforward. Yet nothing has ever confused him more as he watches you hold one end of the gauze to the front of his chest near the top of the scarring, and then bring the roll around his back, over it to hold it in place, your small hands ghosting over his skin with the utmost propriety, intent in making this as painless, as easy, as comfortable for him as possible.

"I'm not going to tell you some patronizing bullshit about scars being beautiful."

You control your breath in easy measured paces, forcing him to follow along. One breath in. Pause. Breath out. Repeat. You continue to wrap the dressing around his chest slowly, your eyes fixed on the task at hand to ensure that it was all straight and even, tight but not too tight.

"They do, however, speak to all that you've endured. All that you've conquered. Overcome. Anyone who loves you will see you just as you are. They would think you absolutely incredible. Regardless of anything. Because of it all."

Aaron focuses on your voice, soft and melodic and yet sure. So very sure. How could you possibly be so sure?

"Someone who loves you will see the scars," your fingers press ever so slightly against his chest, "and they will know. They will know all that you've undergone to become who are - how you survived despite the odds."

You take a sudden shuddered breath as you recall the sight of him unconscious in the hospital bed, being wheeled past you. You're quick to shake it away.

"They will be grateful. To have you, scars and all."

You finish, tucking in the end of the gauze firmly and ensuring it wouldn't come loose with just the slightest of motions.

You look up at him then, finally meeting his eyes properly. Beautiful, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold brought on by the late afternoon sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Aaron can't help but look at you. He rarely gets to see you this up close. So very close. If he were to just bend down the smallest amount, there'd be no space at all. Your hair bundled back into a professional low bun, soft wisps framing your face. The cupid's bow lips - pouty, pink, perfect lips. The upturned nose and the slight babyface cheeks that accompanied it. He realizes his hand is still gripped onto your waist and he's reluctant to remove it. Not yet. In a bit. Not yet.

"Thank you." His eyes are closed as he says it so he misses it when you nod your acknowledgement.

You lean past him, one hand grabbing his forearm for balance while the other reaches for the shirt on the chair. You'd started the job. Might as well finish it. You unbutton the collar and he takes it from you, quickly slipping it on, and yet not moving away. His hand returns to your waist. Staying where you could easily reach up and start buttoning it for him. So you do.

Aaron knows you don't need a response to everything you'd said. He also is quite certain that you believe it. No matter the entirely shallow world you'd been a part of, he knows that you aren't like that. You might be a little vain - the nice clothes and makeup, the care you put into your own appearance. However, you're not vain like this.

Aaron breathes out a deep sigh that he'd been holding for some time as you dexterously work each button into its proper hole. He really could get used to this. To you.

"Why do you always sit on stuff?" His voice is soft and low, calmer.

You glance up, noting the slight humor dancing behind his eyes while he waits for your answer.

You can't help but smile, a breath of laughter escaping you just barely. "I suppose…because I'm short," you admit, shaking your head as you continue down the trail of buttons. "Makes it easier for me to be at eye level if I sit on higher surfaces."

He laughs. A near boisterous laugh. His chest rumbles underneath your hands, causing your fingers to tremble.

You can't help but laugh along with him, releasing a deep held breath as you do.

He would be alright. He would.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #irreverentseries #hotch x you #hotch x reader

[kim-ruzek]

Girl Code Duty

Summary: Fix-it for 3x20. Sylvie stops Kim making the bad decision to sleep with Roman.

Warnings: Sean Roman bashing.

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is the quickest I've wrote a fic in so long and I loved every second of it. This was basically just written as an excuse to Roman bash, and I like fixing things so that Kim never slept with him. I'm just sad I had to acknowledge that my girl Sylvie also had.

Also, a thank you to @justanoffalygirl because one) this fic idea was created when talking to them, and two) for letting me steal a line from their fic.

Sylvie sits at the counter at Molly’s by herself, quietly drinking her beer. It’s one of those nights at the bar, where it’s full—not full-full, that it was loud and overwhelming, but enough that you could sit alone in the crowd peacefully unnoticed—but not that much by fifty-one, or really with their friends from the twenty-first or Chicago med.

It had been a quiet few days. Her shift—which ended that morning—was an uneventful one, nothing too straining happening the whole shift. Those shifts can be hit and miss, for Sylvie. On one hand, they’re a breath of fresh air, a welcome break from the chaos that comes with her work, but in the other hand, they tire her in a whole different way to a chaotic shift.

Sylvie’s born to be a paramedic, and she truly thrives in the situations the profession demands of her, and the days where she does nothing but sit around itches her feet, tiring her with boredom.

And of course she’s still mentally exhausted by all the drama that went down with Chilli.

Sylvie had a rather uneventful day even after the shift. A day spent watching home renovation shows, which though entertaining, just made her even more itchy to do something. And all that did was make Sylvie realise she’s gotten herself into a really boring rut recently.

So in the evening, she found herself at Molly’s.

She had gone thinking at least she’ll get some excitement hanging with her co-workers and friends. Otis isn’t on shift today, but Gabby and Herrmann are and it’s always exciting around them. But the punters are keeping them rather occupied, and the rest of the bar is rather empty of friends.he had gone thinking at least she’ll get some excitement hanging with her co-workers and friends. Otis isn’t on shift today, but Gabby and Herrmann are and it’s always exciting around them. But the punters are keeping them rather occupied, and the rest of the bar is rather empty of friends.

It’s okay, though, she finds herself thinking, enjoying the beer and the peacefulness of just among the crowd. The perks of drinking at a bar, with none of the anxious worries of perverts or being in danger; not with this being a firefighter run bar.

“Herrmann! Another beer, please?” Sylvie’s attention is drawn to where Kim Burgess sits, at a table not too far away from the bar. Her voice is a few octaves louder than it normally is, and Sylvie wonders how many beers she’s had. Having gotten drunk with Kim before, Sylvie would think at least a few.

Kim had been Molly’s when she had came in herself, and Sylvie had not been surprised having heard from Gabby the events that pd and med was focused on today. No one could say they didn’t have a quiet day.

Sylvie briefly had considered going over, but Kim had been sitting with Sean Roman and Natalie Manning, the three looking as if they were processing the day’s events together. Knowing how important those decompressing moments are in their line of work, especially decompressing with those you were ‘in the trenches’ with, as it were, Sylvie had decided against it.

And up until now, Sylvie had forgotten all about them.

In the time between Sylvie getting here, and this moment, Natalie had left, just leaving Kim and Sean remaining, and there is a couple of empty beer bottles on the table.

Sylvie watches them for a few minutes. She’s aware that it’s rude to stare—her mother’s words to her when she was a young girl echoing in her mind—and that she should either look away or go over to them, but something, right at the back of her head, niggles at her, telling her to watch. And as a trained paramedic, Sylvie has learnt to listen to those feelings.

Kim is drunk, that Sylvie could see. Not so much that Herrmann should cut her off, but definitely slightly more than her usual preferred tipsy. Sean is also buzzed, which makes sense depending the case they had. They’re sitting very close to each other, very much in each other’s space, and they’re clearly having a good time as they’re laughing. Kim’s hand keeps touching Sean’s shoulder, a touch he’s very much returning at every given moment.

Yet again, this makes sense; Kim gets super affectionate the more drunk she gets.

But at the same time, Sylvie understands that isn’t Kim’s usual affectionate touch and it dawns on Sylvie why her friend senses have been activated. Sylvie isn’t watching her friend get drunk after a tough day: she’s watching her friend considering making a very stupid, drunken mistake.

Kim is considering sleeping with Sean.

Or, she should say, Kim’s considering letting Sean fuck her, quickly, because Sylvie’s own experience very much told her that there’s no way that man knows the woman is also meant to be satisfied. And what a glow down that would be for her, as from what Kim’s told her drunkenly before, Adam is very good in that area.

No, Sylvie thinks to herself. There’s no way her girl code can allow Kim to have such disappointing dick. It’s a bad decision for Kim to have her post-engagement rebound like this anyway, and even if that wasn’t enough for Sylvie to interfere, she couldn’t in good consciousness subject her friend to that.

Every time Sylvie looks at Sean and remembers that night, all she can think is how she wished someone was able to do that for her.

Sylvie jumps off her stool, walking towards Kim and Sean now stand. It looks like this is their last beer before they’re going to leave, and Sylvie’s glad she spotted them when she did.

“Hello, you two,” Sylvie greets them, inserting herself between the two of them. Cock-blocking her friends to stop them making bad decisions is something she’s rather good at—she’s not just an amazing paramedic who saves people on duty, medically.

A look of irritation passes across Sean’s face, but Kim’s far from annoyed at her sudden presence, evident by how she throws her arms around Sylvie the moment she gets there. Kim hugs her tight, her drunkenness making her squeeze maybe a little too hard.

“Sylvie! Hi.” Kim grins widely at her. “We saw a baby survive today. It was, Sylvie, it was incredible! And amazing! Medicine is truly incredible,”

Sylvie smiles at her friend’s excited amazement. Kim then gasps.

“But I don’t need to tell you that, do I? That’s basically what you do every day. Like a blonde, pretty superhero.” Kim squeezes her again.

“Oh, I don’t know if—” Sylvie begins to protest, but Kim cuts her off.

“Yes. You’re a superhero.” She nods with enthusiasm, certain in her belief. A smile appears on Sylvie’s lips again.

“Okay. I’m a superhero.” She concedes, before adding, “but if I am, you definitely are. You’re a kickass cop!”

“Hm. But you save lives. Like actual lives, people call you when they’re dying. I’m like the sidekick to your superhero. Like you’re the boss, the one people go to. I just help,” Kim rambles on. Sylvie’s got an urge to point out to that technically, paramedics generally turn up to assist cops, not the other way around, but she pushes it down, knowing drunkenness knows no reason or logic.

“Okay, then, sidekick. Let’s get you home,” Sylvie says, thinking that it’s not only best if she stops Kim from leaving with him, but ensuring that even after she leaves the bar that she doesn’t make the bad decision.

“Oh. Brett, actually, Kim and I, uh, we were getting a taxi together,” Sean speaks up then, reminding them of his presence. At the use of her last name, Sylvie almost rolls her eyes. It’s almost as if he was trying to pretend he hadn’t seen her naked, that they hadn’t also “got a taxi together”.

Sylvie must’ve drank more of her beer than she thought as she’s tempted to remind him of such—and how Sylvie had left alone in another taxi only fifty-two minutes later.

“Well, I’m here now,” Sylvie dismisses him, acting as if his meaning of getting a taxi together had gone over her head. She links her arm with Kim’s, keeping her attached to her side. Kim looks between the two of them, as if trying to decide which one to go with. (Like Sylvie would be giving her a choice).

“No, uh—” Sean continues to protest, but Sylvie sticks to doing her friend duty, interrupting him by talking over him.

“Come on, Kim. I’ve had a boring day today, I can use some girl time,” Sylvie tells her friend. At her words, Kim pouts sympathetically at her, and Sylvie knows she’s successfully diverted her friend’s attention away from Roman. Kim then looks at Sean, giving him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Sean, she needs girl time.” Kim tells him and Sylvie would be lying if she didn’t get some satisfaction in how disappointed Sean looks.

Annoyance is also wrapped up in his expression, but Sylvie can see he’s trying to hide it, presumably so to ensure Kim wouldn’t dismiss whatever was going to happen from happening another day. Sylvie makes a mental note to make sure, when her friend is sober, that this was a one off, that Kim shouldn’t ever consider going there again.

With that settled, Sylvie lightly tugs at Kim, to get them moving towards the door. Sometimes, leading drunken friends can feel very much like herding farm animals, but Kim moves with little encouragement, barely taking the time to say (well, yell rather loudly) a goodbye to Sean before she heads to the exit with Sylvie.

“Can we go to yours instead?” Kim asks, yet again her voice louder than usual, as soon as they get into Sylvie’s car. “You know, for girl time? I really don’t want to be at mine,” she adds on.

“Sure, that’s fine,” Sylvie nods. She understands Kim’s unwillingness to go back to her apartment; just a few weeks ago, she was thinking it would soon not be her home, that she’d be building a life in another apartment with Adam.

After Kim asks her that, she stares out the window for a minute or so, a troubled and sombre expression on her face. All Sylvie does, all she knows Kim needs from her at that moment, is reach over and lightly squeeze her hand.

Then, whatever dark thoughts were swirling around in Kim’s mind passes, and Kim’s her animated drunken self, rambling on about the baby again for the rest of the journey to Sylvie’s apartment.

“So what do you want to do?” Kim asks her when they enter Sylvie’s place. Before Sylvie can answer, Kim gasps, spinning around to face her.

“We could put on some music? I’ve missed dancing. I love Molly’s and all, but it’s not always the best place to just let loose. Or do you want to watch a movie? Oh! Let’s watch one we can make a drinking game to play while watching. Or do you just want to drink and talk? Or a game? But what game would be fun just the two of us? Maybe we should call others. Gabby’s working isn’t she? But maybe—” Kim talks a million miles a minute, her mind jumping all over the place.

“Kim. Kim.” Sylvie grabs her attention, interrupting her friend. “How about we don’t drink, and you go to sleep?”

“But what about you? You wanted girl time.” Kim tilts her head, her drunken confusion amusing Sylvie. Sometimes Sylvie thinks there’s nothing funnier than being sober, or more sober at least, than your drunk friend.

“I’m fine. But you need to sleep. This has already been enough excitement to make up for my boring day,” Sylvie reassures her, expertly leading Kim to get bedroom while she talks.

“Oh. Okay.” Kim accepts. “But do I have to sleep? I’m not tired,”

“That’s because you’re drunk, Kim. You’re buzzed. But you’ll thank me tomorrow, so come on. Get off your shoes. You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in if you want?” Sylvie offers as Kim sits down on her bed, doing as she said and taking off her shoes. Kim shakes her head.

“’s alright. I can just sleep in this.” She responds. Sylvie can see that she’s starting to loose her buzz, her eyes getting tired.

“You sure?” Sylvie double checks.

“Yeah. But I don’t feel right sleeping here. This is your bed, I’ll take the sofa,” At Kim’s words, Sylvie shakes her head.

“No, I want you to sleep here. It’ll help your hangover to get some good rest. And I’m not on shift tomorrow, so I can sleep the whole day if I want, so it’s fine.” Sylvie reassures her, holding up a hand as Kim goes to protest.

“Kim. I’m a paramedic, remember? You should listen to me.” That stops her, and so Sylvie nudges her, moving onto the next part—actually getting her in the bed. Because it has been a while since Kim’s last drink now, and her buzz is going, leaving a sleepy drunk Kim in it’s wake, that is a relatively easy task.

“You’re such a good friend,” Kim tells her, her voice sleepy, after Sylvie’s gotten her into her bed. Sylvie smiles at the brunette. “An amazing kickass, sweet wonderful friend,”

“You want to know something?” Sylvie asks softly as Kim snuggles down into the sheets, settling. “You’re an amazing kickass, sweet wonderful friend too,”

“No, I’m not.” Kim protests. Her voice is quiet, full of sleep still, but Sylvie can also hear the pain, the hurt, that’s in it. “I’m an idiot. Why did I think I’d get to be happy, that I’d get my happy ever after? And now I never will. Who’ll want to be with me, when they find out I’ve had a failed engagement? I never wanted this, I only ever wanted to be engaged once, and now. I’ll probably never be again.”

Sylvie sits on her bed, next to where Kim lies. Kim’s looking at her with such pain and hurt in her eyes, a pain and hurt that Sylvie has known herself, and she’s glad she intervened because this Kim, this drunken hurt Kim, is most definitely not ready for a rebound.

“Kim. That’s not true. You will find love again, I mean, you’re a catch! And who cares if you’ve had a failed engagement—so have I, remember? It doesn’t define you or stop you from getting dates. Yeah, it’s a little bit more than this, but it’s still essentially just another break-up.” Sylvie strokes some of Kim’s hair, in the way her mother did to her when she was a little girl.

“And you are many things, Kim Burgess, but an idiot is not one of them. You deserve happiness, and you will get it. I promise. And if anyone ever tells you otherwise, give me their names and I’ll kick their ass. And that includes you, yourself. You’re a wonderful person, and you should recognise that.” Sylvie reassures her friend, her voice firm, showing how serious she is.

Kim gives her a small smile, her eyes having become watery at Sylvie’s words. Sylvie can still see the pain in her, but she can also see that her words has had an affect on Kim, in a positive way. From her own experience, Sylvie knows Kim is far off from being totally okay, but she knows that a small part of her has been healed ever so slightly. And that is a win, for both of them.

It’s not long after that Kim falls asleep. Sylvie turns off her bedroom light, after putting a glass of water and paracetamol in her bedside table for when Kim wakes up in the morning.

Sylvie’s already awake, sitting at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee, pancakes and a newspaper when Kim sleepily stumbles out of her bedroom rubbing her eyes.

“Good Morning,” Sylvie smiles at her in greeting. Kim blinks at her for a few seconds before returning the smile.

“Morning,” Kim’s voice is still groggy from sleep. Sylvie pushes her plate towards her.

“Here. Eat.” Sylvie tells her. Kim opens her mouth, and sensing protestions, she holds up her hand. “You look like you could do with it, and I can always make more.”

Sylvie watches as Kim sits down at the table, obediently beginning to eat. She rises, heading for her fridge. “I’ve got some bacon you can eat with that, if you want? It’ll help you with your energy. Also, I can make you some coffee,”

At that, Kim’s head lifts up. “Coffee,”

Sylvie laughs at that reaction, and how Kim’s voice sounds so desperate and she realises offering the coffee should’ve been her first move.

“Please,” Kim then adds, as if realising that she could be coming off rude. She isn’t, of course. Sylvie recognises she’s just sleepy and hungover, but Kim is always so conscious of being polite. “Thank you. And could I have some of that bacon, please? It sounds like such a good option right now,”

Sylvie places the freshly made cup of coffee in front of Kim before working on the bacon. It’s silent in the apartment, as Sylvie cooks and Kim eats, and she finds herself thinking that if she hadn’t been at Molly’s, Kim would’ve been having a very different, awkward morning instead.

“Sylvie?” Kim says as she eats the bacon. Sylvie looks up from her newspaper. “Thanks. For what you said last night. I, I needed to hear that.” Kim smiles at her and Sylvie returns it.

“No problem. Really, Kim. I’ve been there, remember? And at least I didn’t have to see my ex-fiancé every day at work.” Sylvie affectionately squeezes Kim’s hand. “Anytime you need to talk, especially to someone who understands, I’m here. Even if you just want to get drunk and talk about anything else,” Kim smiles appreciatively at her words.

After Kim’s finished her coffee and food, she tells Sylvie that she’s going to go, needing to go back to hers and shower and get dressed before work. Sylvie offers to drive her, but Kim shakes her off, saying she’ll get a taxi. Sylvie wants to protest, insist, but she can tell that Kim isn’t just wanting a taxi because of not wanting to a burden, but because she needs the time alone, so Sylvie drops the matter.

“Thank you. Really.” Kim says to her as she goes to leave. She hugs Sylvie tightly, appreciatively, a hug Sylvie happily returns. “And not just for this, breakfast and letting me sleep here, or even not just for what you said but for the whole night. I, I was feeling very emotional and that combined with the alcohol... I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for making decisions,” Sylvie nods, getting exactly what Kim meant.

“It’s fine. My duty, really, as your friend.” Sylvie replies, continuing.

“I mean not just because I’ve been there, and because you were drunk, but because honestly? As your friend, it’s my duty to save you from disappointing dick,” Sylvie pulls a face, remembering her encounter with Roman.

A laugh splutters out of Kim, and she leans forward towards Sylvie. “Really? He’s no good? I mean...I get that vibe, but really?”

“Kim. I was out of his apartment fifty-two minutes later. He’s not just disappointing, he’s quick and awful. Very in-out, selfish kind of man.” Sylvie grimaces as she remembers. Kim laughs again, and Sylvie’s happy at least something good came out of that night.

“Oh god. Really, then. Thank you. I mean, I get the vibe, but you seriously left that soon after?” Kim shakes her head. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,”

“Trust me, so am I. So, please, Kim, never ever consider that again, no matter how drunk. It will not be worth it.” Sylvie shivers at the memory. Kim pulls her in for another hug.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t even know why I even considered it. Maybe because I know how much Adam hates him, so I was kind of being a bit destructive? I don’t know. But whatever the reason, it has passed. If I’m going to make a bad decision, I better be getting satisfaction from it,” she reassures her. Sylvie grins.

“Good. My job here is done, then.” Sylvie pauses. “And Kim, for what it’s worth? If I was you, I’d probably spend some time thinking about that reason why—maybe your relationship with Adam isn’t as failed as you think. But I know I don’t know the ins and outs, so maybe don’t give my opinion much thought. Now, you should get a move on! You’ve got work.”

Kim gives Sylvie a thoughtful look, before nodding. “Yeah, I should go. Bye, and uh, thanks again,” she says, before heading out of the door.

#kim burgess #sylvie brett #chicago pd #Chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago pd fic #ree writes #ree's.writing

[watchinglikeafangirl]

Lovely Writer Epsiode 8 - analysis

I have to say, this week's episode is the best one so far because so many things got explained and the puzzlepieces suddenly find their places. It's incredible how much hidden forshadowing the other episodes contain. Every week, I sit here and find clues they placed in episode 3 or something. It's really nice and that's what good writing is about. I find the script really great because this show focuses on so many different aspects, it's literally overwhelming.

On the one hand, we have Nubsib and Gene's lovestory which mostly happens apart from all the other stuff going on. Lovely Writer makes fun of all these cheesy romances with cringey dialogue underlined with a soundtrack that doesn't fit the atmosphere in the scenes at all. Gene and Nubsib have scenes which mix all the cliches at the same time. But at the same time, their lovestory is slow and their affection for each other is not all about physical attraction because love is not about that. Of course, enjoying kissing and having sex is a normal part of a relationship but I often feel like BLs want to tell me all the other stuff happens "off screen" because the talks late at night and taking care of each other are actually way harder to write. But Lovely Writer shows us very much about all those other aspects of a relationship, for example when Gene and Nubsib talk on the phone for hours. These are relationship goals which are rarely addressed but take place way more often than making out.

On the other hand, Lovely Writer is not about a lovestory at all. They make the Thai BL industry look bad by showing the harmony on camera and during interviwes is a fassade because all this pressure and fame gets to one personally and you turn out to be the worst version of yourself. This industry basically wants the actors to sacrifice their life, their identity for entertainment. This is a very sharp critic and Lovely Writer portrays this very well. They manage to switch between lovestory and toxic film business quite well.

Lovestory in a fairytale

Last episode nubsib went to the house where Gene hid and this story continues in this episode. We all know, what happened last week, there were many gifs about it and the cuteness continues here on an even higher level.

But all this takes place somewhere far from their work with no other people around. They are in this house together and spend two day there of explorig their feelings and I guess, talking about stuff most of the time. The rooms are always flooded with daylight and it looks very cozy and warm. Their relationship went next level and they both are very happy about it, so the first half of this episode contains a lot of positive feelings and the outside is not interfering. It looks more like a lovestory in a fairytale because they are drunk on happiness and excitement. It's something new, the start of a relationship and that's a big step. In the beginning they don't face challenges and can basically live happily in this house. But of course, the fairytale has to end and they go back. The mood switches at an instant and the lighting is different because now they aren't as free any more. Before, they were in a lonely house and were free to do anything.

This sort of bright lighting returns on the balcony because there, they can't be disturbed either and are just two young people in love again. Being in love in a silly and cheesy way is also part of a relationship and it's something normal, so Gene and Nubsib have those moments too even after they are back because now we (and Gene) know it's real. It's not something that happened in a different world. It is the reality and takes place even in the normal life.

Relationship goals

Like I said, their relationship looks very natural and is not faked or forced. In fact, their romance is too good to take. They share a few kisses but it's not the kisses which make my heart melt. It's Nubsib ask for consent in those moments. It's their talks. It's the little actions for me because little actions of care and love are way cuter than just a bunch of kiss and NC scenes. That's not what I want. I only watch BLs because they are about a love despite what society might tell you is right. I'm not here for kiss scenes. In some shows, all the private scenes of the main couple contain either kissing or sex and I don't understand why. In a relationship, you like this part as well but like the person you do that with more.

So, I like Gene and Nubsib's relationship being more lovingly and honest very much because trust, loyalty and honesty are more important.

Also, we can see they are both very serious about the relationship and go all in for it. There is no angrily storming off again. There is no being mad for a whole epsiode any more. There is no annoying shyness and blushing. Both characters don't really match the cliche dynamic and I love that because stereotypes just make me sick.

Here, Gene and Nubsib have an argument and even though they get disturbed, Nubsib makes sure they will talk about it later. They will have a mature and conversation about this when they both have calmed down. And this is real. This is normal and nothing to be very scared of. It's just a little argument that will probably be solve in a few sentences.

Lovely Writer has a whole concept. We got a moment when one of them was storming off and was mad for a whole episode but they just did that to reverse it and portray it as unrealistic and unfair for the other person because this way Gene wasn't giving Nubsib any chance to apologize nor explain himself.

Oversexualization

If I'm gonna talk about the fact the love story doesn't contain a lot of kiss or NC scenes, then I need to talk about this problem here. Actually, the oversexualization of BLs is harshly criticized in this scene and I belive Gene is totally right but the thing is, it's not just the Thai BL industry and it's not just BLs. It's far more than that and I believe westernization is a part of it (that's a huge topic, I know. I will only address one tiny aspect here). I don't know very much about the eastern countries of Asia. I only know what I've seen in documentaries or on the internet, so I can't say I'm an expert at all. But from what I know and what I've seen, Eastasian societies are more closeted about relationships and sex. I'm not saying every country (please, don't be offended and feel free to correct me) and I don't know how open Thailand is about this topic but I feel like the "western" countries are more open about it. I live in Germany and here it's a topic like everything else and people tend to overshare. I feel like the countries which are that open, oversexualize very quickly because it's no difficult topic among the people. So, oversexualization happens in all film businesses of such countries and since Thai BLs have fans all over the world, they oversexualize too in order to make the people like it. The whole internet seems horny all the time, so it works and sells itself pretty good. So, Gene doesn't just call out the Thai BL industry. He basically calls out half of the world's film businesses because they all do it.

But like Hin said, that doesn't mean NC scenes should be banned or are bad. Just an overuse of such passages is the problem here because then it's not about romance any more. Then, you can call it an erotic novel. When there's one or two NC scenes and they make sense in the story, it's totally fine. The writers and authors just need to find the right balance. And since the preview looked like things will be happening, then it's just happening because the mood was right. See sex as part of bonding because relationships are basically just good friendships with some next level stuff.

Consent

People love Nubsib asking Gene for consent whenever he wants to kiss him and that's really considerate but I saw this post here and discovered Nubsib is not the king of consent at all. He's only asking for consent whenever they are alone. But not when they are with other people because he knows Gene is shy. He outs him to three people during this episode even though he said he'll wait and Gene obviously doesn't want him to do that. Afterwards, he even comforts Gene to lift the pressure but he can't deny he put this pressure on Gene in the first place. As I said, Gene is shy towards other people, Nubsib knows that and plays this card. With others, Gene won't say anything because he's too polite and also, you don't have an argument in front of others. So, Nubsib doesn't stay true to his words and is still manipulative.

Finding your soulmate

Believe it or not, but I totally see Lovely Writer fulfilling the "soulmate" trope because this episode both indicated this - more or less through words.

Nubsib tells Gene, he felt lonely all these years in America and this loneliness vanished when he saw Gene again. He had a relationship before but still felt lonely (also, I love his previous relationship doesn't matter at all. There's no jealousy or anything). This sounds like he wants to say Gene is his long awaited soulmate.

Gene was lonely as well over all these years and got used to it but as soon as he and Nubsib grow closer he's reminded of the loneliness. He doesn't accept it any more and I believe he's nearly dying inside right before he calls Nubsib. They spend two days alone and many things happen emotionallywise, so when he gets home, he feels very lonely. Nubsib reminded him what it's like to not be lonely. He became aware of the loneliness again and hates it even more now he has someone freeing him from that feeling. Even though Gene doesn't say it, I feel like they want to tell me Nubsib is his soulmate too.

Product placement

This show's product placement cracks me up everytime. The picture with this woman... what was that lmao

Why would she hold up a face mask for a picture?

Also, the spray is so misplaced... Gene was upset but Nubsib was like "at least smell good"

Nubsib: the king of comforting

#lovely writer #gene x nubsib #this episode was too good #their relationship is so pure

[fan-girling-101]

Pogue Winter

Pogues x Reader x Kooks, Rafe x Reader

Summary: After almost dying on Halloween Y/N stays with Rafe. Until he surprises her with a too expensive gift.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Rafe being a sweetheart, My sucky writing, I think that’s it

Thank you @thisismynerdyself​ who let me use her story which was part one. This is part two there’s going to be a part three and maybe four. Please go check her out and read the original. And thank you for letting me use it. This is all my writing, also if you read the first then second chapter the writing style is completely different.

Part one here

Original part one here

Her Tumblr

Imagine he’s dressed up not sweety in awe of how you look

The next few days I’ve been quiet, not talking to many people, mostly just Rafe, I haven’t even answered JJ. I mostly stayed in Rafe’s room reading or watching any movie on disney plus. Rafe got some clothes from Sarah for me to wear, Ward and Rose had no idea someone else was in their house. I guess that would happen if you never pay attention to your son.

“Hey Pumpkin.” Rafe called making me look up from Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban book in my lap. “I wanted to go golfing with Topper and Kelce, but I don’t want to leave you alone, so do you want to come?”

“Do I want to come watch the most boring sport, if it can even be called that, in the world?” I looked out the window thinking for a moment before answering with a sure.

“Ok it’s not boring.” I rolled my eyes walking over to Rafe. “You keep telling yourself that.” I pat his shoulder walking around him to grab some clothes to change into.

“It’s not!”

♛

We’ve been at the golf course for what feels like an eternity, but probably only an hour or less. The boys are golfing while I sit in the golf cart, tempted to drive away and go anywhere but here, reading my Harry Potter book. The sun makes it almost too hot to bear, It’s November for God sakes stop being so hot.

“Come, I’m gonna teach you how to golf.” Rafe grabs my hand pulling me up and over to the golf tee. Handing me a golf club, I stand there not making a move to actually golf. “How hard can it be to hit a ball with a club?” I ask, laughing and going to walk back to my book.

“Pretty hard Y/N,” Topper said, hitting a ball himself that went super far. I roll my eyes hitting the ball Rafe so kindly set up for me. The ball ended up going further than Topper’s so I smirked at him and walked away. “Beginners luck.” He muttered.

♛

 Over the next few weeks Rafe has been taking my golfing with him just the two of us. He says I could be amazing if I tried. I rolled my eyes everytime but went along anyway. By now I couldn’t really remember why we ever hated each other. Well I mean I know he was always kinda mean to friends, who I haven’t spoken to in a long time, but I can’t remember one time he said something mean to me. Ever.

It was now Christmas time, I was still living in secret with Rafe and if you’re wondering where my parents are. Right when I turned 16 I got emancipated. Their idea, not mine, not that I wanted to stick around with them. So back to Christmas, Christmas in the Outerbanks means the annual Winter Ball.

“So Y/N/N what are you doing December 18th.” Rafe asks me, coming to lie on his bed with me. His smile told me he was planning something, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to be a part of it. “Come on Pumpkin, it's not a hard question. 18th are you or are you not doing anything.”

“Well…. Let me check my schedule.” I pretend to pull out my phone. “Hmm.. well the 18th that's a Monday meaning, one o'clock, wallow in self pity. Four thirty, stare into the abyss. Five o'clock, solve world hunger; tell no one. Five thirty, jazz-ercise. Six thirty, dinner with me. I can't cancel that again! Seven o'clock, wrestle with my self-loathing… I'm booked! Well if I bump the loathing to nine I could still be done in time To lay in bed and stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness…”

“So you’re free. Good.” I shake my head at him letting him continue anyways. “December 18th is actually a Friday, also the day of the Winter Ball. So Y/N L/N will you come to the winter masquerade ball my me?”

“Rafe-”

“That doesn't sound promising.” He pouts looking at me sadly trying to get me to guilt me into coming.

“You didn’t let me finish. Why would you want to bring me? I don’t know if you’re aware but I’m a pogue, your sworn enemy. And being a pogue means I have no money, no money means no dress, no dress means no Y/N at Winter Ball. It’s really just logic.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to bring the most gorgeous girl in the universe to the winter ball.”  A blush found its way to my cheeks, making me look down. “Also I already planned for you to come so…” He gets up leaving the room for a second and when he comes back he has a sparkling red dress. I was beautiful.

“Rafe-” I gasp looking at the beautiful dress. “I-I can’t take that. That probably cost you a fortune, Rafe I could never repay you for it. I mean when did you even. That cost more than my whole house and things combined.

“Y/N I don’t need to be repaid. Take it. At least try it on please.” He hands me the dress leaving the room. I reluctantly put the dress on facing the mirror looking at how the dress flowed. I couldn't help but smile. A soft knock on the door of Rafe asking if he can come in.

“If you’re making me do this I don’t want you to see me on the dress until the ball.” I heard the groan from outside the door.

“Fine but I have your shoes, mask, necklace and earrings.”

Full outfit

“Rafe! I’m gonna owe you for the rest of my life and more.”

“I don’t want anything, just take them please.” I open the door just enough to grab the stuff quickly putting it all on. “Sarah helped me find everything one night while you were asleep, the shoes took the longest, or I would have asked you sooner instead of a week's notice. Does everything fit, I was scared it would be too big, or small. Or you would hate the color. Or the style of it. It took me almost three nights to find that one, it had the prefect and I needed Sarah and Wezzie to say it looked good and you would like it.”

“Rafe shut up I love it ok. It fits perfectly, the shoes are my size, I love the color,and the style is beautiful. Stop panicking ok.” I open the door dressed back in my Christmas pajama pants and Rafe’s old football jersey. “Come on, ice cream my treat. And I’m driving your truck.”

The whole way there Rafe was acting like a scared mom in the car with their child. Telling me to slow down. I was an amazing driver, he was just paranoid. Sure I was a little reckless but I’m also too good to ever get in a crash.

We go through the drive thru Rafe ordering a plan oreo, while I got a candy cane ice cream because Chritmas time is here bitches! As I pull up pay I grab my cash going to give it to Matt a tenth grade that I go to school with. Out of nowhere Rafe reaches over to hand Matt his own money.

“Rafe!”

“I can't let you pay what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay.”

“The kind that already bought me a dress, shoes, and jewelry.”

♛

Soon enough the 18th came, Sarah, Weezie, Rose and I were all getting ready in Sarah’s room. Rose was so excited when she heard Rafe was bringing someone, never once had Rafe brought someone to a kook event. When she found out it was me I saw the fake smile with clenched teeth. 

Sarah had me sit down on her vanity chair to do my makeup. I told her to do whatever would look nice with my dress. When she finished she started my hair curling my hair and braiding some small red flowers into my hair to match my dress and give me a pogue type look with the random small braids. Rose did everything for Weezie and after the two of us sat on Sarah’s bed playing a card game while Rose and Sarah got themselves ready.

Sarah’s Outfit

Weezie’s Outfit

I knew Kie was coming of course with her parents, Pope was coming to help his dad and John B was Sarah’s date. But I had no idea if JJ was going, usually the two of us would sit around drinking and smoking while the others were at the fancy parties, or on a rare occasion we’d crash the party, while being drunk and high. I haven’t spoken to any of them in a long time. I felt bad, really bad. I mean JJ was my best friend, basically a brother to me. 

We all had our dresses and me, Sarah and Weezie started taking instagram pictures all dressed up. I say I was nervous was an understatement. I mean I was going to a kook party dressed as one of them. I was going with Rafe fucking Cameron, the kookist of all kooks. 

Weezie and Rose left when Ward called us down. I started fiddling with my freshly painted nails. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Sarah. “Don’t be so nervous, if you get bored of my brother and his boring friends me and Weezie will come and save you. We have a secret place we go to.” She gives me a reassuring smile giving me a small hug.

“You go down, I'll be there in a sec. I have to mentally prepare for this.” She laughs leaving the room and heading down with everyone else. I pace the room a little before heading down myself.

Rafe’s POV

We all stand in the front room waiting for Y/N. I hear heels clicking on the stairs as someone walks down. I eagerly look at the stairs waiting for the girl that’s been living with me for over a month. The one who I always thought was beautiful. The one who deserves the world and more. The one I think I fell in love with. When the person came into view the excitement fell from my face seeing Sarah instead of Y/N.

“Sorry to disappoint.” She laughs going to stand with Weezie whispering things in her ear. “This is why you don’t bring someone like her.” My dad sighed clearly, not happy with having to wait.

“What do you mean ‘someone like her’?” I ask him. “Someone who’s never been to anything important in their life. We’re going to be late. Next time invite someone with some social class. If this was some way to piss me off congratulations Rafe you’ve done it.”

I would have yelled at him, I would have told him to shut up. But I head the soft click of heels on marble. This time I knew it was Y/N. I completely forgot about what was said about her. I couldn’t wait to see her all dressed up. The only time I’ve seen her in a dress was when she’d crash our formal parties. It was always the same one, a peach sundress.

When I saw her in front of me I had no words, everything else suddenly didn’t matter. I didn’t hear when everyone else went to the car. All I could see was Y/N, she looked like a goddess. No one was more perfect. Her Y/H/C hair was lightly curled with flowers braided into it. To be fair Y/N would look perfect in anything, and nothing.

I lied before, I don’t think I’m in love with her…

I am in love with her.

#obx #obx imagine #Outer Banks #outerbanks #outerbanks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #obx x y/n #sarah cameron #pogue life #pogue style #kook #christmastime

[always-there]

About consent

OK guys, buckle up, because today's topic is depressing as hell.

Today I'm gonna talk about consent. I usually ponder about this while I cook, in the shower, late at night when I'm applying all my learned hypnosis techniques to force myself to sleep.

I was never taught about consent. All I had going for me was the classic "Rape is bad, avoid rape" chant the world of the 90's society thought was enough. All I saw were girls being advised to not dress like sluts and avoid being provocative in public. I got a good couple of different versions of that, mind you, as I grew up in a conservative Catholic school.

Nobody told us about the universe of potential situations contained within that fucking "Rape is bad, avoid rape". We thought rape happened when a man forced himself on a woman that was actively trying to resist him.

Black and white. No grey areas. Pretty simple.

I was fine with that. I was even judgmental towards victims, once I saw how they were dressed when they were attacked. Or if they were drunk or walking by themselves on areas widely known to be dangerous.

And then I grew up, entered the nasty-ass world of adults, and the Universe took pains to kick my ass in so many ways during 30 years that have finally lead to this post today.

So, I'm a list person. I like making lists. So here goes my one and only...

CONSENT LIST

• Dudes get raped too. Yeah. I know it's basic, but I scoffed at the concept for years. I know many people who still do. Dudes get raped too, get it into your mind. And no, it doesn't happen when they are effeminate weaklings. No. Any man can get raped. And they deserve to be treated as proper victims, with respect and compassion. The few times I've seen testimonies of male rape survivors, they reported even the police was skeptical or treating them like pussies or jokes.

• If your partner is sleeping, it's not consent. No, I don't give a fuck if you guys have been together for 20 years. No, I don't give a fuck if they wake up in the middle of it and decide to continue. I don't even give a fuck if they say they like it. If you touch, penetrate, make whatever sexual advance on a sleeping person, you are raping them. Any unconscious person is unable to give consent.

• If you're in the middle of it, having a good time, and suddenly your partner wants to stop... guess what, it's time to stop. You don't stop? You ask them to hang in there for just a while more until you're done? You power through it? Yeah, no. That's not consent, buddy.

• If you're ABOUT to do it, and the foreplay was great, and they were so into it, but when the time comes to actually go all the way, they change their mind... time to go home. Or put on a movie, or do whatever the fuck you want that is not forcing or trying to persuade your partner to go on.

• Subtle denial is a big-ass NO as well. They have a headache? Leave it. They are tired? Leave it. They have to wake up early the next day? Leave it. They fear a phantom clown is gonna haunt the bed if they indulge in intercourse that night? Leave-it. Don't persuade your partner to have sex if they don't feel like it. You know why? Because they DON'T want to have sex. Persuading or wearing someone down to say yes is not consent. It's pressure. Which takes us to the next bullet...

• If you insist that YES always means YES just like NO always means NO, I will smack you in the head with a frozen lamb leg. YES can be induced. Can be pressured. You can actually intimidate, scare, threaten and bully a person into saying yes. Maybe they are not ready. Maybe they are not sure about the relationship. Maybe they are not feeling well. Maybe they are fucking scared of you. It doesn't matter. If you have to lobby for it, leave it. You're being a creep.

• Drunk people. Good God. I can't believe this has to be an item. Leave drunk people alone! And I don't even mean passed-out drunk, I mean intoxicated but still dancing people, still talking people, I even mean, yes, dizzy or tipsy people. A person under the influence is not able to consent. Why do you think we drink, why do we call it a social lubricant, and other funny jabs? Because alcohol fights the restraint and common sense we'd had otherwise. It's a fun way to loosen up and get relaxed, but if someone has been drinking, don't hunt them for sex. I can't believe the number of movies and series that broadcast dudes trying to hit on drunk women. It still happens today, and not in a Law and Order episode, in your common everyday rom-com. This applies to every person under the influence of whatever substance they took that clouds their judgment.

And no, I won't hear it. They didn't put themselves in a position of danger. You are the danger, a threat that should not exist in the first place.

• So far so good, right? Well, tell me what you think about this. Let's say your partner doesn't want to have kids. And you do want them, for whatever reason. So, what do you do?

You mess with their birth control. Or you lie about you taking birth control. Or you lie about using a condom, or about the physical integrity and expiration date of said condom. Bam, presto manifesto, a bun in the oven.

That is fucking rape. And if you still need to ask why, because for whatever reason that was not creepy enough for you, I'll spell it out. It's rape, because the other person did not consent to that.

And now, if you still don't feel the need to go and take a shower until December, I have yet another list.

Are you in doubt? Are you not sure you are a rapist or not? Worry not! Below you'll find a funny little questionnaire ready for you to clear your mind and heart:

CAN I RAPE SOMEONE IF...

• ...they are dressing provocatively?

Answer: They could be walking down the busiest street of the city during rush hour completely naked and with a big, red silk bow on their ass, and still, nothing in the fucking world gives you the right to touch them. You are not entitled to another person's body because of what they choose to wear.

• ...we are dating?

Answer: Not if you are dating, not if you are married, not if the zombie apocalypse finally wiped out humanity and God himself descends from Heaven to pronounce you Adam & Eve 2.0 and gives you the task to repopulate the world. Dating only means you two are seeing each other on a regular basis for fun or to explore the possibility of a future together. It doesn't mean that your partner's body becomes your property, ergo, you have no rights whatsoever over it.

• ...they are seducing me?

Answer: Half of the time, nobody was seducing you, genius. If I have to hear another anecdote of how a bartender or barista o waitperson were throwing themselves on someone, I will barf in my own mouth. Servers are required to be nice, it's on their job description. But anyway, let's say for the sake of argument that yeah, they are indeed seducing you: no. Showing interest in someone is not an invitation to fuck, nor a provocation to fuck, so let things go their way and don't be a creepy jackass.

• ...I have done nice things for them?

This one I actually heard from a former, and I can't emphasize the former enough, friend. Their case was something along the lines of, I took her to dinner and a movie, later coffee and dessert, and one other lame activity I can't remember (probably drinks), paid for everything, took her home on my car... and then she refused to let me go upstairs!

Dude. Duuuuuude. And dudettes too, of course. No. If you want to get your money's worth, go to a proper sex worker, who will charge you accordingly for their services. Don't expect the other person to feel obligated to pay you with their body just because you fed them and threw a movie ticket in the package!

I had one friend go on a date with a guy. The date didn't work out, so they went their separate ways... until the guy showed up on her doorstep asking her to reimburse him for coffee and a donut. I shit you not. She was so dumbfounded she actually paid him back so he would leave, and I'm glad she did, because that, my friend, is rapist material on the making.

• ...they are a sex worker?

Answer: No, you creepy freak, absolutely not. Every single point I mentioned above applies to every human being on the planet and active or inactive Space stations. You cannot force yourself on anyone, you cannot violate consent ever. It doesn't matter if you're fooling around with the biblical whores of Babylon or the entire cast of Full Monty after a round of the blue pill. Consent protects everyone, no matter what they do for a living.

I'm so happy that all these points are not gonna be news for most of you. Awareness is spreading and the new generations are taught about consent since they are little kids. My generation, and most of all my generation in my country, dominated by a traditional patriarchal society, heard nothing of it. "Rape is bad, avoid rape" was taught mostly as a warning tale for girls. It was the girls' responsibility to prevent rape. Don't walk alone at night. Don't use slutty clothes. Don't be provocative towards men. Don't drink too much. Don't stare too much. Don't go to non-respectable places. Don't put yourself in danger.

I think things would significantly change if the song was played differently. Don't teach girls how to prevent rape. Don't teach boys that rape is bad and that "real men" don't need it.

Teach everyone about consent. Rape is only one of the grim consequences of violating consent. There are thousands of different traumatizing situations that could be avoided if we only respected consent all the time, if we were taught about healthy boundaries and personal integrity since kids.

But hey, we're getting there. I hope. I wish.

• Disclaimer: actually, I think disclaimers like this should not be needed, but still. In case you feel the urge of accusing me of speaking from theory... nope. I speak from experience. Personal experience. Experience I wish I didn't have, and that I had a very hard time harvesting to learn and become stronger. So yeah. Shut the fuck up, go out there and respect the shit out of people.

#consent #coercion #harrassment #r*ape #r*pe mention #victim blaming #it's 6 am here why I am writing about this at this ungodly hour