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myouicieloz · 6 months

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Heads will roll

Kim Minjeong x aespa 5thmember!reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend promised you it was ok for you to match with your best friend, Yuna, for the upcoming Halloween party. However, with how she’s behaving all night, you simply had to drag her to and empty room and punish her.

Warnings: smut. sub!minjeong x dom!reader

Word count: 4.4k lol sorry

Notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!! I’ve tried my best but the verbs might still be all wrong… I hope u enjoy, tho!! ^^ i rlly like halloween kisses mwuah

You spent the whole evening apart from your best friends and bandmates, shooting your solo pictures for the group’s latest comeback. Since you were the last one to do so, you asked them to get back to the dorm and get ready for Ryujin’s party without you. You’d see each other soon enough, anyway, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

They sent you countless pictures of them getting ready, and your heart ached to be making funny group memories with them, instead of taking a thousand pictures in a cold studio. It was for work, though, so you’d just have to deal with it.

After what it seemed like ages, your photoshoot was finally over, and you quickly made your way to the dorm to shower and get ready. It sucked to do your makeup by yourself, since Giselle always did it for you, and to not curl Ningning’s hair just as she liked it, but it was either that or you’d all be terribly late for the party, and no one would have that.

Ryujin’s Halloween party was one of the most expected events of the year, so, naturally, no one would want to be late. The girl knew how to host a party— it always had sickening decor, lots of creative and delicious drinks and, most important, secrecy. None of what you did ever got leaked, to ensure the guests always had a good time.

Which you always, always did.

“Woah!” You whistled as you entered Ryujin’s living room, getting the attention of your bandmates. They smiled at you, waving and calling you over.

The four girls were impeccable, each one looking just as gorgeous as ever: Giselle was dressed as a sexy jaguar, wearing a tight jumper with little feline ears; Ningning opted to go as a corpse bride, although her bloodied, ripped wedding dress barely reached her knees; Karina, as a pirate, hat carefully placed in her hands; and at last, your sweet girlfriend, looking lavish as Alice in Wonderland.

You smiled at the sight of her beautiful face, promptly reaching out to hug her, but Winter was having none of it. She didn’t push you, naturally, but her face was all flustered, and she looked livid, frowning as she checked you out.

“Is that really why you didn’t match with me?” Winter asked, offended. She was judging your Lara Croft costume with hard eyes, even though they lingered on the leather belt you wore for a tad too long. There were fake guns attached to them, too, and your hair was braided into two elaborate pieces all by yourself, your skillfulness making the hairstyle neat and composed, not a single strand out of place.

“We’ve had this conversation before.” you reminded her, ever so patient— being used were used to her defensiveness. Besides, you knew you looked good; a little harsh look from your girlfriend wasn’t going to smash out your confidence, “I had already promised Yuna I’d match with her. She arranged our costumes and everything months ago, remember?”

Winter rolled her eyes, murmuring something too low for you to hear, but visibly still annoyed, regardless of your explanation.

You did warn your girlfriend that you’d be matching with your best friend for Halloween, just like you always did ever since you could remember. However, Winter hoped you’d notice her subtle signs and realize she wanted you to match with her, as a couple, instead. After all, it was your first Halloween together, and Winter wanted it to be special.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She brushed past you, scoffing. You could tell she was very much pissed by the way she stomped through your friends, mixing herself a drink with too much alcohol in it, as she completely turned her back to you.

It was quite unusual for her to drink, but you’ve gotten on her nerves enough to make Winter want to relieve some stress. It bothered her to have you choosing Yuna-subaenim over herself, your girlfriend, no matter how hard she tried to shake the venomous feeling off.

Naturally, Winter knows it’s silly to feel this insecure and jealous over a stupid costume, specially since you and Yuna have been friends since your rookie days— and you’ve only been dating for a couple of months.

Nonetheless, Winter can’t help but to be sulky besides Karina, downing her cup in a few, long gulps. She doesn’t even dislike Yuna, even though she wasn’t exactly friends with the girl, either. Winter found her kind and lovable enough, with her long hair and composed, yet bubbly remarks.

It simply unsettled your girlfriend, to see you matching with Yuna when she was so excited about your first Halloween together. You were Winter’s first partner, and the thought of wearing matching outfits had her all month wondering what to pick. There were just so many cool options, and she was so excited… Which was why having you mention Yuna had already bought you identical costumes— just like she did every year, as long as Winter could remember, — was like a bucket of cold water being thrown in her head.

Of course, had your girlfriend told you wearing couple outfits to the party was that important to her, you would’ve simply brushed Yuna off, claiming you’d comply with your girlfriend’s wishes this year. However, she said nothing, so you naturally didn’t think much of it, brushing it off.

However, Winter felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she stared at you and Yuna, looking pretty much like twins if it weren’t for you towering over the girl, hair much longer and darker. It was as though she were fighting her first battle, a silent, passive one with your best friend, and she had just lost.

Winter really wasn’t going to hide her pout for the rest of the night. She’d allow herself that, at least.

Your girlfriend behaves like nothing but a fucking brat the whole afternoon.

She makes sure to be extra touchy with people— much unlike her nature, laughing hard and smiling at whatever it is that Jaehyun was saying. The boy was as boring as they came, and she’d stopped listening to his ramble minutes ago. Now, her eyes were trained on you, with every action calculated to bring you to the edge. From the way her slick fingers traced his skin, to her leaning to listen better, since the music is so loud, isn’t it?

You let her be, allowing Winter to celebrate her little tantrums alongside her members. Despite her obvious confrontation with you, she genuinely seems to be enjoying herself: laughing, drinking and joking with the girls and other close friends on the dance floor. So you let her have her little victory, observing from afar as you enjoy your night just the same; Even though your eyes narrow once you feel her subtly— almost unnoticeably, ducking from your touch, when you join the girls after hanging out with your other friends for a while.

In fact, Winter’s cold shoulder gave you plenty of time to think about the ways you’d punish her for her foolish behavior. You licked your lips at the thought of having little Alice in Wonderland all spread open just for you, crying as you deny her orgasms over and over until her pretty, abused cunt is all red and sore, drenching and clenching over the slightest brush of your fingers. It’d be such a heavenly sight: the girl on all fours, screaming and pleading for you to touch her anywhere, to do anything to her or else she’d explode.

However, you remain composed, your face giving none of your impurities away as you twist the ice in your whiskey and patiently listen to whatever funny story is being told by Chaeryeoung in the corner you all stand. You could feel the avalanche of thoughts and ideas going over and over through your mind, aching to make your girlfriend wither and destroy her petite body, as you made sure to let her know who possessed her in every way.

Meanwhile, Winter was walking through a dangerous path, she knew it as much. The feeling of your eyes poking wholes on her back was dense enough to send electric shocks through her entire body, and she was well aware of you watching her every move. She smiled to herself, glad to have your full attention despite feeling like such a loser, earlier. The thought of being punished for all of her bratty actions, too, aroused her perhaps a bit too much to keep her from being good. So she closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and smiled again, humming to herself as she knew her night was barely getting started.

“Hey, if you’d like we could, ahn, keep our conversation somewhere quieter…” Winter heard Jaehyun say, lips dangerously close to her ear. She was about to brush him off when he was abruptly shoved backwards, and soon enough she felt a strong grip on her waist.

She couldn’t contain a smile, hearing your harsh voice echoing from above her tiny frame.

“I suggest you keep your _hands_ to yourself, subaenim, if you want them intact.” You growled, turning your girlfriend to you as you pushed her upstairs, opening doors until you found an empty room. You shoved Winter on the bed without delicacy, smiling slightly to see her bounce a little on the mattress, in response to your touch. She was so petite—even now, staring at you behind her lashes.

“Fucking whore.” You cursed, taking your time unbuckling your numerous belts as she stared at you, licking her lips at the sight of your hands putting on work. She needed them on herself, immediately. “Throwing yourself at that fucker like a cheap slut. I guess that is just what you are, right?” You said, gripping her face. “A cheap fucking slut.”

Winter’s pupils were as blown out as yours, and her heart was beating so loud she was sure it echoed loudly through the bedroom. It was so hot for her to have you like this: mad out of your mind, handling her like a doll. It was a deep contrast from your caring, worried nature, one that she loved to experience from time to time. And the best part was that she got to have this feral side of you all to herself. You were hers, and hers alone.

No stupid fucking costume would change that.

She nodded as best as she could, since your touch was strong in order to keep her still.

“Say it.”

“I’m just a cheap slut.” Her reply came immediately, as Winter’s eyes remained locked on your face.

You kissed her deeply in response, exploring all the possible places of her mouth. Your hands went down her neck, blocking her airways just enough to make your girlfriend sigh, lightheaded.

“Perfect, baby.” You praised, sucking on her pulse point. “And who owns you?”

Winter’s hands found their way to yours, even though her touch wasn’t meant to make you stop.

She simply had to feel you, to have your skin on hers. It was a necessity to taste you and to have you taste her, too. It was taking you too long to touch her, already: she was feeling like her whole body was going to explode.

“You, unnie.” She breathed.

You stopped your work on her neck, now sucking at her earlobe as you whispered. “Just that? I’m starting to think you don’t want me to do anything to you at all; you just wanted to fuck that stupid ass guy to piss me off.”

She whined as you distanced yourself, opening her legs so you could place yourself between them. She looked like a painting, with her shoulder-length hair all disheveled and flustered face, trying to gather her breath and her thoughts. You allowed her to do so, squeezing and brushing your hands up and down her thighs while waiting for her next move.

As if Winter could ever concentrate with you touching her like that.

Pulling you by your pants—she couldn’t help but to look for your belt, biting her cheek to keep a smile from adorning her face as she found it in your hands, already—she pleaded. “Please, mommy,” She opened her legs even more, with her hands on your neck to kiss you again, “I’ve been so bad tonight… please, please punish me.”

You smiled, thinking about all the ways you’d ruin her through the night. She was so beautiful, so eager to surrender herself to you completely. It warmed your heart with both desire and lust, to know you had her to yourself.

“You’ll be well punished, Minjeongie. Don’t worry,” You promised, leaving wet kisses against her shoulders. “I’ll ruin you, so you’re reminded to not even look at anyone else, my love. You’re fucking mine.”

As you shared another wet, lustful kiss, Minjeong couldn’t help but to feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

You interlock her wrists with one of your belts, wiggling it to make sure it wasn’t too tight on the girl’s skin; just enough to make it a slightly ache. “Do you know your words?”

“Yes.”

“And what will you do if you want me to stop?”

“I’ll use them.” She assured you, nodding.

“Very well, then,” You took her in, looking so pretty messed up like that. You’d have to leave her like that more. “On your fours.”

Winter got half-up, cocking her head to the sides as she sent you a confused look. You were both still all dressed up. Had you forgotten about that detail, perhaps?

“Dress stays on,” You mumbled, groping her body through the fabric. “You look too pretty in that outfit. It nearly made me fuck you in the middle of the room, for everyone to see, when I first saw you.”

She giggled, delighted to have your praises. Her face was met with a pout soon after, though, as she sighed, defiantly. “If only you’d matched with me, instead of that bi—”

Winter lets out a loud grasp once you turn her around, adjusting her body roughly on your thighs.

“Shut the fuck up.” You told her. “Toys don’t talk. Specially ones that behaved so poorly the whole night.” Pushing her tiny dress up, you gave her ass a good squeeze. “Now, count. 10 for each cheek, since I’m feeling patient, for now.”

Winter couldn’t suppress the shiver that went through her body as she heard your words. She bit her lips, not wanting to let you see how much your tone aroused her; so drenched already, and you’ve only made out for a few minutes.

“O-one,” She took a deep breath as you went on, kissing her back and her ass until you’d finished, your hands’ impressions well painted on her milky skin. “T-two…”

You were surprised she didn’t lose count, not even once, even though her face was already glistening with a few tears, and she was shaking her head vigorously. “T-ten!”

You let out a proud smirk once you got her spankings over with, helping her up. “You did good, love.” You assured your girlfriend, kissing her gently to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed. You let Winter take some time to breathe, nodding as she got her body closer to yours as much as she could, since her hands were still locked up.

Winter was always needy and touchy. You laugh at her exasperate touches, kissing her as you guide her body to lay on the bed completely. You tear down panties with hunger, soon taking out her white stockings, too, until you manage to push up the skirt of her dress and leave her cunt bare, inviting you over.

“You look so pretty, love. All dolled up and ready for me. So fucking hot tonight, baby.”

All she could do was nod, lost in pleasure as you kiss along her thighs. She instantly opens them more, hoping you’d mark them —just as you both liked it. You took your time pinching, sucking and bruising her perfect skin, enjoying the sound of the pornographic moans that left her mouth. You were drenched yourself, too, at the sight of your pretty girlfriend’s face as she lets out incoherent cries and whines.

Your fingers brush her cunt, never more than a light tease over her heated body as you add, “Wearing this little dress like the whore you are. Do you even have any idea of how delicious you look right now? Of how many people ogled you all night, desperate to touch you?” You giggled to yourself at the sound of her frustrated huffs, tracing your fingers to her slit before giving her pussy a long lick, “They can’t, though. You’re all mine. Mine to mark, mine to toy with. My doll.”

She couldn’t even answer as you dive in, sucking her pretty cunt vigorously as Winter wriggles and tries her best to get a hold of your hair, which makes you nibble your teeth though her sex, provoking her.

“M-more, more, mommy. Please! Oh shit—“ She was a mess, feeling even more as if she were going to erupt. Your hands kept touching her everywhere, with your nails leaving long, red lines from her forearms to the ends of her thighs.

As you kept on with an even faster rhythm, you could feel her inner walls clenching and her eyes starting to close in pleasure. So, naturally, you subsided your movements, allowing Winter’s cunt no more than a few kitten licks. She opened her eyes immediately, looking at you so adorably confused and frustrated.

“Do you really think you deserve to cum, my sweet?” Your fingertips entered her hole just enough so you could gather some of her wetness and taste it yourself, giving her sex a light slap. It made her joint, and you smiled at how sensitive she was, all bruised and marked. “With how much of an ungrateful slut you’ve been all night, hiding from my touches and presenting yourself to others…”

Still, she shook her head vigorously, “I’ll make it up to you, mommy, I promise.” Winter pleaded, with her best, sweetest voice. “Let me cum, please! Even though I don’t deserve it.”

Her obvious attempts to get herself off made you scoff, although you positioned yourself between Winter’s small body once again. She was your little doll, after all, so pretty dressed up as Alice in Wonderland.

And you have all the time in the world to edge her until she’s a withering mess, at the dorms, anyway.

Positioning your index and middle finger on her entrance, you brushed her hair off her face. “Work for it then, doll. If you want to get off so bad, do it.”

Winter’s eyes widened at your suggestion, and she let her shoulders down at the thought of having to do all the work. She’d never done such a thing, specially since you were always so eager to be the cause of her moans as she fell into pieces. As she opened her mouth to whine again, though, a simple look from you shut her out: the girl immediatly knew it was either that or nothing. Logically, your girlfriend bit her lip, pressing herself against your fingers as she felt the feeling of them in her tight cunt. She let out a loud moan, fucking herself on your fingers until the knot on her stomach soon presented itself back.

“Stop staring at me like that.” She said, looking the other way to not acknowledge you observing her, since she couldn’t push you herself. You curled your fingers inside of her, giggling at her little screams and surprised huffs.

“But you look so pretty, specially like this. Only for me.” You were making your best to follow through your words, even though Winter’s sounds and movements were making you crazy. You simply needed to grab her pretty little waist and take her until she was really screaming, crying loudly for you to stop.

However, you had to be patient, or else your girlfriend wouldn’t be taught her lesson. One she so desperately needed, so she would communicate to you better.

“Only for you, always.” She promised, her breathing erratic as she twitched under you. “Mommy, I’m gonna—please, please, let me cum.”

“Do it, love. You can cum, now.” You smiled, kissing Winter’s thighs as you bit them gently.

That did it for her; with a loud cry, she came all over your hand, trying to get your fingers off her pussy once she got too sensitive. You retrieved your fingers, sucking them clean as Winter gestured for you to set her hands free, which you promptly did. She immediately went to your lap, wrapping her fingers around your neck as she marked your skin, just as you had done to her, earlier.

“Thank you mommy.” She murmured, still light-headed and needy from her orgasm. You loved how dependent she got afterward, always requiring many cuddles and kisses after you fucked. You loved your girlfriend deeply, and she’d always be the number one in your life. “I wore the dress just for you, you know? I saw your look when we passed by the costume shop.”

You hummed, throwing your head slightly to allow Winter to suck on your neck as she liked to, “You’re such a little evil being, Minjeong.” She giggled, trailing kisses through your face until she captured your mouth, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss.

“I’m only yours.” She moved her bangs out of her face. “Are you only mine, too?”

“Of course, baby.” You frowned, squeezing her tiny waist to assure her of so. “I belong to you, just as you belong to me.”

“Good.” She whispered, feeling relieved to have that envious feeling finally off her shoulders. She didn’t master the courage to look at you, as she added. “I just wish we had matched, tonight.”

You held her even closer, kissing both of her cheeks repeatedly. “We will, next year. Ok?” You winked, managing to get a smile from her at the subtle promise. “You have to tell me when something’s bothering you, baby. I thought you were cool with me matching with Yuna and all.”

“I thought I was cool with it, too.” She shrugged, kicking her feet. “But I guess I wasn’t.”

You kissed her once again, hoping to have her know how much you loved her.

“It’s all good now, though. Come on, the party’s still going. Let’s head back?”

Winter’s head cocked to the side at your words, and soon her hands were toying with the hem of your crop top. She smirked, trying to look as innocent as she could at the thought of keeping you all to herself.

“Not yet… still want to get more of what’s mine, then.” You smiled back at the auburn haired girl, placing your arms up to allow her to get rid of the piece. “Besides, you’ve made me do all the work just now… I think I deserve a compensation.”

You scoffed, but pushed Winter’s body back on the bed just the same. You were her girlfriend, after all. You’d always spoil her rotten and indulge to her wishes.

“Bratty ass.”

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jihyoruri · 2 days

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CAUGHT IN BETWEEN kim chaewon & huh yunjin

prev. masterlist . next

🧋★ ͘ ⴰ JEALOUSY & LEADER DUTIES

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” is the first thing that yunjin said when the leader of lesserafim walked into the car sitting right between her and yn with a smile on her face.

“what was that?” chaewon asked while she leaned against yn’s shoulder who was rubbing her eyes with a pink blanket wrapped around her from being woken up about 15 minutes ago.

“oh nothing.” yunjin says before taking a peek at yn who proceeds to put headphones on and turn up the volume of the music on her phone to the point that you can hear it through the headphones before closing her eyes and resting her head on chaewon’s shoulder.

yunjin clears her throat before looking at chaewon, “what are you doing here?” she asks as the car starts.

chaewon smiles, “what do you mean?” she asks innocently, “I’m supposed to be here, I’m the leader it’s my duty to accompany you guys to these things for support.”

yunjin narrows her eyes at chaewon’s obvious bullshit before turning her head and looking at the window, watching the rain fall, this is going to be a long morning.

chaewon eyes widened when she saw yn in the white dress, a smile made its way to her face only to be wiped off immediately when she sees the taller girl walking behind yn in a white dress as well.

she walks over to the two girls with a faux smile on her face, “you look so pretty!” she exclaimed gesturing towards the dresses. “you look like a princess.”

“I look like a ready to be wife.” chaewon's smile faltered, feeling a pang of jealousy that yunjin was the person that got to do something like this with yn.

it should be my wife.

“well, we should get to set.” yunjin says budding in on their moment, she smiles when chaewon gives her a sharp glare.

“oh yeah, let’s go.” yn says, she links her arm with chaewon’s as the girls walk together their manager’s following not too far behind, “I wish you were doing this with us, I love doing photoshoots with you, it reminds be of iz*one.”

chaewon smiles at yn’s words before looking behind to through yunjin a smile who just rolls her eyes and turns to their manager to start a conversation.

“remember when they paired us for everything? I miss that.” yn says smiling sadly at the memories, “now all they do is pair me with yunjin who’s my ready to be wife.” she jokes referring to their outfits.

it’s now chaewon’s turn to roll her eyes she looks behind to see yunjin smiling, ugh.

“honestly I wish the dress was pink, imagine a pink wedding dress?” yn rambles who chaewon who just looks at her with heart eyes as she rants.

“you should wear that to your wedding in the future.” she replies hopefully ours she thinks to herself.

“I’ve honestly never thought about a wedding.” yn says softly, “but the again when do I ever? the farthest I’ve thought is when I get my oscar.”

as they arrived at the set, yn and yunjin were greeted by the bustling activity of the photoshoot. makeup artists and stylists hurried around, putting the finishing touches on the set and the girls' outfits.

chaewon stood off to the side, her gaze shifting between yn and yunjin as they prepared for the photoshoot. she listened absently to the manager discussing their schedules for the next week, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of yn and yunjin.

both yunjin and yn are instructed to lay in the set of the flowers that compliment the dresses, yunjin makes a joke as they lay down which makes everyone laugh well everyone except for chaewon.

“it wasn’t that funny.” she says loud and clear causing everyone to laugh even more, the funny part is that she’s being dead serious.

as fast as the shoot started it ended even faster.

chaewon walked over to yn and yunjin patting both of their shoulders, she patted yunjin’s with more force causing the girl to flinch and rub her now sore shoulder.

“let’s go.” the leader says linking her arms with yn and walking towards the van

chaewon drags yn with her as they make their way into the van, chaewon grabs a blanket that was on the seat and places it over yn’s and her’s legs.

yunjin entered the van not to long after them, “fans are going to go crazy over this shoot.” she starts, pausing to look at yn and chaewon covered in the blanket, before flashing chaewon a smug smile.

“fans go crazy over anything.” chaewon says brushing off yunjin’s comment while looking at yn phone who scrolls through youtube before putting on her headphones probably intentionally tuning out everything around her.

yunjin called yn’s name and didn’t get a response, all she could hear was the blasting video coming from the girls phone, she internally smiled and immediately shot chaewon an accusing look, “okay you can throw away the innocent stuff, why did you come?”

chaewon side eyed yunjin and looked out the window, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“are you serious?” yunjin says, “when have you ever attended a photoshoot for leader duties, this was just another one of your ways to get between yn and I.”

yunjin’s last sentence almost had chaewon jumping over yn to tussle with the girl, “there’s nothing between you and yn to get in between.”

yunjin opens her mouth to respond but is cut short by chaewon’s rage, “are really stupid enough to think that you and yn have something? I’m embarrassed for you.”

yunjin tenses at the girls tone but doesn’t back down, “well we have to have something for a creative director to request for a shoot for wedding style dresses.” she responds back quickly only to flinch at chaewon’s laugh.

“do you really wanna play this game right now?” chaewon asks seriously, yunjin furrows her eyebrows because this is the most serious she’s seen the leader, “you may like yn, but your like for her will never amount to mine, you’ve had your fun but it’s time to back off.”

there’s silence for a second the only thing filling the van is the music from the radio and the sounds from the headphones, yunjin swallows thickly, “I will not back off, I’m not like all the other people you’ve scared away.”

this another few seconds of silence.

“okay.”

there was a chilling vibe to the leader’s words. yunjin should feel relieved at chaewon’s calm response to her own , so why does she feel nervous?

#lesserafim x reader #lesserafim #kim chaewon #kim chaewon x reader #chaewon #chaewon x reader #huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin #yunjin x reader #yunjin le sserafim #chaewon le sserafim #girl group imagines

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missmonsters2 · 8 months

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Mirror, Mirror | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART ONE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.5k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?

The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be.

There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?

Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot.

"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.

"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."

"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long.

"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.

"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"

Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."

"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."

"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.

"But—"

"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"

"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"

Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself.

"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."

"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all!

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."

And another realization slides into place.

"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word.

Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"

Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather.

"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."

"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."

You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."

Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end.

Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present.

The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month.

The extra time was sorely appreciated.

In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times.

There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?

Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?

In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years.

Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings.

Probably.

Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing.

Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.

"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it.

The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them.

It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.

It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping.

Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically.

Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again.

It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day.

"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it.

"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.

When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese.

While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her.

So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table.

Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath.

"Hi."

The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either.

Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.

"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable.

You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Wanda replied warily.

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

The question stumped Wanda.

"What?"

"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious.

"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."

Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her.

"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"

Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang.

"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."

Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old.

After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda.

Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship.

You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened.

Your parents divorced.

Wanda's mother passed away from cancer.

You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after.

You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care.

Wanda started to date Vision.

Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her.

You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it.

Wanda's first break-up with Vision.

You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott.

When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you.

Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.

"I'm home!"

Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.

"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.

"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."

You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly.

"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"

"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."

"Homesickness?"

"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."

"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"

Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."

"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."

Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence.

This was everything, Wanda thought.

Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone.

"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."

Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.

"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"

"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."

"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."

"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."

Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake.

The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start.

Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally.

"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."

Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation.

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."

"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"

"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."

The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts.

"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.

"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."

"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."

"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible."

"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."

"That's not true," Wanda protests.

"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."

"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."

"But—"

"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down.

"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.

And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance.

"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.

"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."

"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.

"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."

Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you.

There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here.

How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?

Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.

The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.

"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.

You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.

It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking.

Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.

And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment.

Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"

"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda.

"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing.

"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."

Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself.

The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it.

Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder.

Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it.

Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself.

Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.

Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth.

As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.

It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge.

After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.

Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving.

"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"

Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."

"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer.

"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.

"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date."

"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up.

"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."

Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.

Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all.

PART THREE

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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abbyromanoff · 8 months

Note

RQS 🙏 G!P Agatha Harkness x fem! R where Agatha wants impregnate you and has her own little and perfect family

EVERGREEN

PAIRINGS: Agatha Harkness x reader

WORD COUNT: 2,245

WARNINGS: smut, angst, feelings of shame, insecure!R, breeding, magic strap ons (basically like she has a dick), mentions of cheating but no one actually cheats, pet names, lovesick!Agatha, cunnilingus, mentions of fingering, really badly written smut

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Agatha had been planning this for a while now, even breaking the little amount of rest time she had to work. You were questioning what it was that she was so fascinated by, and eventually, it led to creating your own insecurities the more she gave herself to her creation.

“Why can’t you just tell me what you’re making? Even a little hint!” You begged her while standing in the kitchen, a loose robe hanging over your body. You took to making her breakfast in hopes she’d eat with you, but like always, she denied your request, stating that she was too busy at the moment.

“Because it’s a surprise, I’m not going to ruin that.” Her arms were wrapped around your waist as she pulled you in for a sweet kiss, not letting go until she remembered just how late it was.

“Shit, I have to get to work, I’ll be home just in time for dinner and I promise we can eat together tonight, okay?” You sighed and dropped your head before regaining composure, plastering a smile on your face as you bid her goodbye. She didn’t have time to question your act and ran out the door to her car where she honked once as another farewell. You watched her leave through the window with tears threatening to leak. You didn’t want your mind to travel to a dark place, but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was another woman who had truly been taking up her time. You knew she’d never cheat, you trusted her on that, but it seems like she barely has any time for you now and she’s always eager to leave. Was she losing interest in you? Were you not ‘pretty’ enough?

You sat on the couch with a plop, running your hands through your hair as you tried to control the loud sobs that made their escape. If she truly loved you, she wouldn’t be hurting you like this, even at the sake of her ‘experiment’.

You stared at the picture frames on top of the fireplace where the two of you looked beyond happy, you couldn’t help but wonder what changed. The one farthest to the left was a picture of your wedding day, The two of you were cutting the cake but she was too busy staring at you with a smile etched on her face, the moment still brought butterflies to your stomach even after all these years.

The other one that caught your eye was during the photoshoot she convinced you to do with her. You wore a casual dress, nothing too eye-catching, but her jaw still dropped when you showed her. Her arms were placed on your stomach as your back faced her, her head stuffed in your neck, she continued to agree with the fact that your perfume smells better than any of the flowers that waved in the background.

You were choking on your breath at this point, water pooling out of you worse than ever before. You grabbed your phone, opening your texts with the woman and smiling at her contact. You tried to brush that off with a shake of your head before typing out, ‘We need to talk when you get home.’, You hoped it wouldn’t worry her too much but a small part of you wanted her to worry, you wanted her to care.

And she did, the second she got the text her brows furrowed and continued to stay that way the rest of the day, until she got home, at least.

“Y/N? I’m home!” She heard no welcoming, and if it wasn’t for the lights in the kitchen along with the steam from a pan she wouldn’t have known where you were.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You didn’t spare her a glance as you continued to stir the spoon you held tightly in your fist. She placed her hands on either side of your hips and pressed her back against yours, kissing the top of your head and letting her lips linger.

“Baby? Can you talk to me, please? That’s the only way we can work out whatever it is that’s bothering you.” Her hands rubbed up and down soothingly before she turned you around, raising her eyebrow as a signal to speak.

“C’mon, how am I supposed to know what’s wrong if you don’t tell me? I sadly can’t read minds.” She grinned sadly, still receiving nothing but a small frown on your face. It pained her to see you upset, but she was starting to grow frustrated the more you refused to speak.

“You said we needed to talk, well, here I am, ready to talk, but you’re not giving me anything. Please, I just want to know what’s wrong.”

“You should know what this is about.” She sighed, shaking her head as she continued to stare deep into your eyes in search of something, anything.

“Please inform me because I truly don’t.” You tried turning back to the stove where your dinner was being cooked, but she didn’t let you. She held a tight grip on your body and refused to let you push this subject away.

“If it’s hurting you this much I want to know what it is, I don’t want to see you in pain.” She begged once again, nearing the point of giving up.

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?” This wasn’t what she expected would leave your mouth, how could you guess such a thing?

“W-what? Of course, I love you, baby, I-” She cut herself off, shaking her head in disbelief.

“But you’re not in love with me? I mean, anyone can see it at this point. You’re always so eager to leave me and the second you get home you’re on your laptop working or down in the basement, once again, working. It’s fucking embarrassing, Agatha. It’s embarrassing seeing everyone out and about with their husband or wife while you can’t even eat breakfast with me anymore.” She gulped nervously with a nod, but it was breaking her heart little by little hearing how much she hurt you.

“I know-”

“No, you don’t know! Do you know how fucking lonely it is to have your wife not even want to see you? You don’t, because I’m always right there by your side supporting everything you do and I get nothing in return!” She didn’t seem to care that you interrupted her, she just let you speak knowing you needed this. If you needed to yell at her, she’d let you, anything to make you feel better.

“I do want you, I love you more than anything, Y/N.” She couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore, seeing your tears would hurt her too much.

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You weakly stated, wiping your face in fear of letting her see you so vulnerable like this.

“Will you let me make it up to you? Because I want to show you how sorry I am for hurting you, but I understand if you don’t want that.” You took a moment before nodding, allowing the woman to finally breathe as she hugged you tightly, only pulling back so she could kiss you softly.

“The reason I’ve been so busy was because I’ve been working on something for us, something I hope you’ll like.” She reached behind you to turn off the burner before pulling you impossibly close and rejoicing in another peck, only this one wasn’t short. You could feel her love pouring into you as her tongue swiped along your lips, a small moan leaving you as you granted her entrance.

“Aggie..” You mumbled as you rested your forehead against hers, only pulling away due to the lack of air.

“Yes, my love?” She gripped you by the back of your thighs and lifted you into her arms, letting you wrap around her body with a small giggle.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no, you don’t do the apologizing, I do. You did nothing wrong, and I’m so proud of you for expressing your feelings.” She walked you over to the closest wall which happened to be the front door and pressed you against it, her mouth landing on your neck in teasing pecks. She had to pull down the top of your turtle neck in order to do so, letting you down in the process as you finally felt the floor against your feet.

“You’re my everything, I’m so sorry I made you think otherwise.” She whispered onto your skin, but you could hear it perfectly.

“It’s okay.” She shook her head while dropping to her knees in front of you, pressing her head against your waist and staring up at you, it made you melt in the best ways.

“No, no, it’s not, not at all.” Her hands tugged slowly at your pants and you went to help her, but instead, she pushed you off of her, wanting to let you sit back and do nothing while she did the work for you.

“Please, Aggie-” You bit your lip when her tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking a long strip up your slit and resulting in a hum of enjoyment from her end.

“Tell me what you want, baby, I’ll give you anything, all you have to do is ask.” You threw your head back when her mouth wrapped around your throbbing clit and creating a soft rhythm.

“I- I want you to keep going, just like this.” Her eyes fluttered shut as you tugged on her hair in hopes of keeping her close. You could feel every vibration she sent through you, and fuck did it feel amazing.

Her fingers were prodding at your hole, tongue continuing its abuse on your swollen bud, all while she kept her eyes on you, completely mesmerized by the state she provided you with.

But then, all of a sudden, everything stopped. You opened your eyes to see your wife now standing in front of you with a devilish smirk written on her face, making you whimper.

“Give me your hand,” She guided you to palm her crotch that covered a large bulge. “You feel that? This is what I’ve been working on for so long. I hated seeing you so down whenever we’d try fertility and it failed again and again and again, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.” She found herself standing stark naked in front of you, using one hand to stroke your cheek gently while the other ran up and down your leg.

“It took a lot of time and attention but I’m certain this will work. Now, I’ll be able to feel you clenching around me when you cum, or when I hit that nice little spot deep inside you. And now, I’ll finally be able to give you my babies.” She groaned at the thought, hips bucking into nothing as she imagined the warmth you’d give her.

“Can I- can I go in now?” You nodded rapidly and instantly felt her lifting your leg and placing it on her hip, she made sure to keep you steady while lining herself up with your hole. The second her tip came in contact with your clit, she was done for. A low moan tumbled from her lips before she finally entered you, giving you time to adjust before she continued.

“Shit! I- I didn’t expect you to feel this- good!” She felt you start to grind down on her length and took that as her permission to create small, slow thrusts. While she continued to hold your leg up, she used her free palm to grasp your breasts, squeezing them harshly before tweaking and pinching your nipples.

“That hurts, h-honey.” You whimpered, cheek reddening as her intense gaze refused to remove itself from you.

“But isn’t that the best part?” You clasped onto her back for support as she sped up in her motions, scratching down her skin as you felt her poking your g-spot. The red marks you created only spurred her on further as she lifted your leg further, allowing her to reach even deeper and eliciting pornographic sounds from both of you.

“You don’t know how fucking badly I want to ruin you right now, sweet girl.”

“Then why don’t you?” You mustered up the courage to speak while the knot in your stomach only grew. It felt like a balloon ready to pop at any breathing moment, you just hoped that moment would be soon.

“You’re so tight and warm, could be in you forever.” She spoke, hearing the distant sound of the door creaking behind you the faster she went. She didn’t hold back anymore, not after you spit out those teasing words.

“You gonna cum for me, hm? You gonna make a mess, you dirty little slut?”

“Yeah- yes! Please, I want you to cum in me, Agatha!” She nodded and, only seconds later, you felt a warm liquid pouring into you, painting your walls white as you entered a deep orgasmic state. You were shocked you didn’t collapse, but that was mostly because of the hold your wife had on you.

“That’s it, taking my cum like the good girl you are.” Your breathing was heavy as you dropped your head onto her chest, smiling at the scent of your favorite perfume.

“You know you’re stuck with me forever, right?”

“Good, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

#agatha harkness fluff #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader fluff #agatha harkness x reader smut #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x reader angst #agatha harkness x female reader smut #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x you #wandavision

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winter2468 · 4 months

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The Hunger Games movie ending scene was bad, and here’s why

Yes I’ve been thinking about this for years, no I am not done being annoyed.

I’m just going to list things off.

No scars. In the books, Katniss gets caught in the fire from the bombs dumped on the Capitol’s children. The scarring is so extensive that not even Capitol plastic surgery can fix it. She explicitly says that she looks like a half-human mutt. But the movies won’t let her be ugly, so she’s smooth-skinned here.

Katniss is wearing a dress. Throughout the narrative, Katniss only wears a dress when the Capitol is forcing her to, be that at the reaping or during the many photoshoots and interviews. Even her mockingjay wedding dress was originally something she’d been forced to wear by President Snow, and the mockingjay details were added last-minute by Cinna, after Snow gave the order. Whenever Katniss gets to pick her own clothes, even if it’s the options presented to her by the Capitol, she goes for practical trousers, and never a dress.

She’s too young. In the books, it takes over a decade for Katniss to be in a mental place where she wants kids, and adding the age of her oldest child to that, she would be in her late thirties at the youngest in this scene, more likely in her forties. But god forbid that our heroine is allowed to age.

No leg hair. You might think I’m nitpicking here, but in the first movie, they had a scene when Katniss’ legs get waxed by the beauty team, so the movie writers definitely knew about it. In the books, Katniss explicitly says that she likes her leg hair, because the longer it grows, the longer it’s been since she was under the hands of the Capitol’s beauty standards. But women in movies aren’t allowed to show leg hair, so she’s shaved smooth here.

Losing the nuance. In the book version of this moment, Katniss and Peeta are watching their children play in the meadow. But what Katniss and Peeta know, but their kids don’t, is that the children are playing on a mass grave of those who died when District 12 was bombed. Just presenting it as a perfect golden meadow completely removes the horror from this scene.

[reposting this because t/erfs added horrible comments to the original version. trans rights!]

#this is not a hunger games quote #hunger games #katniss #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #thg #thg series

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damiansgoodgirll · 2 months

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can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Fic,

Both are dating, and they are at Dom's Wedding and when they are sitting together at there table Damian takes her hand kissed her knuckles and said "next time I'm wearing a suit will be our wedding"

(no engagement just damian admitting he wants to spend the rest of his life with her)

love this request

damian priest x reader

in love with this pic

my forever

“they’re so beautiful…” you whispered watching with teary eyes marie and dom dancing together. deep down you always wanted something like that too. your happy ending, spending the rest of your life with your forever person.

you were almost sure that you found that person in damian.

almost.

you’ve been dating for the past three years and even in it wasn’t that long, you dreamed every night about being married to damian and having your own little family.

maybe with a dog, a few cats and a baby. that was your dream but you didn’t know if he felt the same. watching how buddy and rhea had been together for less than you two and they were next on the altar made you think that maybe damian wasn’t that kind of person. you thought that maybe having you by his side was enough for him.

but you couldn’t stop imagining yourself with a diamond ring and a white wedding dress, saying yes to the love of your life.

“yes…they are” he said watching proudly damian dancing with the beautiful bride.

“plus…look at the dress” you laughed “it’s amazing! it looks so good on her” and damian smiled agreeing with you.

“well…i kinda prefer the blue dress you’re wearing tonight…” he teased making you chuckle.

“you look pretty handsome tonight…” you teased back but before he could answer, austin called him cause they needed to take a few pictures with dom.

“i’ll be back” he said getting up from his chair, leaving you there, watching how everyone was approaching the bride, complimenting her, making her feel special.

you shouldn’t be upset so why were you? was it selfish wishing you would experience the same thing?

you smiled at her when she waved at you, not wanting you to feel excluded.

but you were dying to be in her shoes.

it took a good fifteen minutes to finish up with the photoshoot when you saw damian walking back at your table with a glass of champagne for you.

“for the most beautiful woman in the room” he whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

“you shouldn’t say things like this at someone’s wedding…the bride could hear you” you joked.

“can’t help it when you really are the most beautiful woman in this room…in the entire world” he said again, making you laugh even more.

maybe you didn’t need to marry him, you felt good about your relationship that maybe you didn’t need to have a wedding, in the end it’s you and him right?

while you were overthinking damian slowly grabbed your hand “what are you thinking about mi amor?” he asked seeing how you’ve been acting off the whole wedding ceremony.

“nothing important…it’s just an emotional day…weddings always make me cry and laugh at the same time, and then cry again…plus i can’t tear my eyes away from how good that suit looks good on you…” you teased again.

“next time i’m wearing a suit will be at our wedding” he said kissing your hand.

“what?”

“you heard me right…” he smiled.

you were speechless.

“you want to marry me? like…do you really want to get married? i thought-…” you couldn’t even speak.

“i know i know, the rockstar lifestyle thing” he joked “but i love you, i love you more than anything in the world…and i want to spend the rest of my life with you…so yes, if you want it…”

“of course…” you said not thinking about it twice.

“you’ll be the one in white…” he whispered into your ear.

“i’ll be the one in white…” you repeated, still shocked about what just happened.

you’ll be the one in white and you couldn’t wait for it to happen.

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twogyuu · 1 year

Text

Alternative title: From 'Babygirl' to 'Wifey'

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Synopsis:

“It’s time . . . wifey.”

Genre: Fluff, angst if you squint, heir!cheol, terrifyingly innocent!couple (but like ~5-7 years since university is when this set so they are grown grown now 🥺)

Warnings: Mentions of food, mild themes of jealousy, suggestive if you squint hard enough

A/N: Inspired by Chanyeol and Lee Hi's song, 'Yours' and Seokmin and Cheol's Allure photoshoot. Though the photos were sultry, this literally is not sexy at all LOL. Feelings were just being felt #triggered

masterlist (can be read as a stand alone!)

You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there for, eyes peering up and trained on the glossy magazine sitting on the top rack of the red-wired stand next to the register of the 7/11 down the street from your shared apartment. The ding of sliding door fell deaf on your ears, you paid no mind to the customers skirted around you – some not caring for your presence as they had a train to catch or rushing to grab a quick meal to make at home, a few throwing dubious glances in direction, the thought of a perhaps crazed fangirl of Choi Seungcheol debating whether or not she should recklessly buy the magazine with her hard earned money, running through their mind while they handed the cashier their card.

The pad of your thumb repeatedly running over the perfectly cut edges of the clear, heavy stone sitting on the silver band wrapped around your fourth finger, you examined the magazine cover of your fiance. A month ago, he had told you he had a photoshoot coming up. As the newly announced CEO of Sebong Holdings in the next few years to come, he was a hot topic in the media. Naturally, there were a few printing presses that wanted him to be featured in their next magazine issue.

When he had told you “photoshoot” you had thought it would be . . . professional. Black suit and tie, clean cut hair combed back, good posture, modest – covered.

You weren’t expecting him to be wearing a tight, unbuttoned, white shirt, sleazily covered with loose blazer and his hair to be wet and stylishly tousled and hanging over his pretty brown orbs that were covered by heavy lids.

It was anything, but professional and modest.

It was sultry and provocative.

You liked it, but you also didn’t.

This was your fiance – these kinds of photos should only be for your eyes.

Why didn’t he tell you or show you them before now?

With a small huff, you tore your eyes away from the cover, shaking your head to clear it of the green fogging your rationality. You knew it was dumb to be jealous – Seungcheol was a public figure, and a very attractive one at that. It was only natural for society to be swooned by his sharp yet gentle features, and on top of that, his pretty words.

Wasn’t that the worst? He was charismatic – somewhere along the lines after university, he learned how to craft his speech to sway the general public.

He was still the Seungcheol you knew from childhood, in university – just . . . refined.

As popular as he was with the people, he was yours at the end of the day, and he always will be after slipping the engagement ring on your finger only two weeks ago. There was no reason to suspect otherwise – he was busy with the preparations for the transition, but Seungcheol always made time for you.

You couldn’t be mad.

You couldn’t be jealous.

He was literally yours and there were millions of people across the country vying to be in your position now.

Seungcheol couldn’t even be claimed as the nation’s most eligible bachelor anymore because he had announced in an interview prior that he was happily engaged to you – though, for your privacy and safety, your identity remained hidden for now. As the wedding preparations came along, the Choi’s would introduce you slowly to the public as the heir’s partner in crime.

The buzzing of your phone interrupted your internal fuming. Out of guilt, your heart instantly sank, at the sight of his name. You were quick to swipe at the screen to see his message.

[Choi Seungcheol]: Coming home yet?

[Choi Seungcheol]: Should I come pick you up?

[Y/N]: I’ll be there soon – at the 7/11 🙂

[Choi Seungcheol]: . . . Did I forget to buy something? 😅

[Y/N]: LoL no – we’re just running low on paper towels. I’ll see you soon ♥️

[Choi Seungcheol]: Hurry~

[Y/N]: I can’t if you keep texting!

[Choi Seungcheol]: I miss you 🙁

[Y/N]: You’ll see me soon lolol

[Choi Seungcheol]: Not soon enough! Run if you have to!

[Choi Seungcheol]: Today I cooked too 😏

You let out a soft chortle, shaking your head at his message as you tucked your phone back into your purse, making your way to the paper towel aisle.

Even if he was the Choi Seungcheol, there was solace in knowing there was a piece of your Choi Seungcheol that people won’t ever see – for better or for worse. He was clingy and he pouts more than Jihoon’s son, but he loved unconditionally and after all these years, he still doted you like you were when you fake dating.

The honeymoon phase was eternal with Seungcheol and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Seungcheol noted as he tucked a clump of rice into his cheek. He looked at you from across the table, tilting his head to the side, much like Kkuma – the Maltese that Seungcheol inherited from his father a few years before. “What’s wrong?

You peered up from your tofu soup, wide-eyed and confused. “Hm? What would be wrong?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, leaning in and squinting from across the square dinner table as if it would give him the answer. “Something’s off.” He frowned suddenly, peering down at his soup. “It tastes bad, doesn’t it?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you chuckled, pushing him away. “Just tired – and your soup tastes fine,” you swirled the broth before gulping down a spoonful to make a point. “You’re getting better.”

He wasn’t satisfied with your answer, but he’d let it go – for now. Seungcheol would get it out of you one way or another.

And after being together for the better of the last five years, he’d do it fast.

“How was 7/11?” he asked nonchalantly.

You choked, pounding your chest. You looked up from your dinner, scowling as you reached for a napkin.

He returned your look with a simple, but effective raise of his eyebrow.

“Fine,” you replied hoarsely. You paused, dabbing the invisible liquid off your lips to buy yourself some time. “I . . . um . . . saw your magazine cover.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol sounded, his stature visibly relaxing. He was almost . . . . amused. “Did you like them?”

You refused to give him the satisfaction he was seeking in seeing you squirm, holding your posture stiff and eyes looking away from him.

“They were interesting, to say the least,” you nodded.

“You liked them,” he smirked.

“You said it was a professional photoshoot,” you remarked.

“And they were,” he shrugged.

At this, you peered up at him once more, less happy with his smart and quick response. He gave you a shit-eating grin knowing he nailed what was bothering you and more.

“I was expecting something . . . err, different,” you added. “More . . . modest.”

“Are you jealous, right now?” he chuckled.

“N-no,” you whined, “Stop.”

“Aww,” he cooed, getting out of his seat to make his way over to you. A hearty laugh emanated from his chest as he wrapped you in a tight embrace. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Seungcheol!” you whined trying to push him away.

“I love you,” he planted a peck on the crown of your head, continuing to smoosh you in between his arms.

“Seungcheol – it’s fine! I’m fine now! You looked amazing! I know – we know!”

You know you stood no chance against him, quick to give in and settle into his chest, wrapping your own hands around his waist. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, your whines replaced with bouts of breathy laughter.

You already knew you were being ridiculous earlier and even then, he was quick to reassure you.

A comfortable silence settled in, the both of you savoring the simple, but intimate moment. Seungcheol rubbed soothing circles into your back, your eyes fluttering shut at his touch. There were the occasional shared giggles and slap of his hand when his hand lingered a little too low for your liking, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Still on the topic of photoshoots,” Seungcheol mumbled into your shoulder. You felt him press his plush lips against your skin.

“It’s been like . . . almost ten minutes since we dropped the topic,” you snickered.

“Wanna do a professional photoshoot with me?” he ignored your comment and asked instead. His tone was ingenuous.

Pulling back, arms slipping down his biceps, you stared at him owlishly, waiting for him to tell you he was kidding or pinch your nose and say ‘sike.’

Like his voice though, there wasn’t a hint of mischief in his expression. Only a gentle smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes glistening with hope as he patiently awaited your answer.

Cupping his cheeks, you asked softly. “I think I need more details, Cheol.”

“It’s like one of those . . . engagement photoshoots, but fake – not our real ones that we’ll share for our wedding, but for the public,” he explained, gently reminding you about introducing you to the world as Seungcheol’s fiance. “Mr. Kang said my father has something set up – we just have to give them the signal that we’re a go.” Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he waited a beat before adding, “It’s time . . . wifey.”

“We’ve evolved from babygirl to wifey,” you joked to shake off the nerves of the request. You gave him a chaste kiss.

“Are you ready though?” he asked earnestly. “If you’re not, we can wait a little longer.”

Were you? He was yours for the rest of time – whether it was today or another fifty years down the line, the public would find out.

And what was there to be ashamed of? Afraid of?

The facts were simple and plain: he was yours and you were his.

Though flashing cameras and watchful eyes of his world were overwhelming at times, it wasn’t anything the both of you couldn’t work through.

“It’s okay, I’m . . . I’m ready,” you nodded. You raised a finger to his chest, pressing it against his sternum. “Hubby.”

At the drop of the word, you immediately crinkled your nose and shook your head. “That didn’t come out right.”

Seungcheol chortled, pulling you into another bear hug. “You’re right, it didn’t,” he patted the back of your head, “Seungcheol is just fine from you – alternatively, ‘babe’ or ‘sexy’ is also acceptable.”

You snorted. “On Jihoon’s death bed maybe.”

“You’re right, wifey.”

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios

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adamsrcnan · 1 year

Text

i just wanna take a minute to appreciate my girl Allison Reynolds and the way she cares for Neil in TKM (despite what happened with Seth) in her own special way just gets me

She hears about Neil getting tortured and beaten to a pulp, she can only guess how bad he looks, but she stops by the store and buys out every shade of foundation and concealer ready to help Neil before he or anyone asks

Then proceeds to dedicate her mornings to fixing him up until the bruises fade

She asks if Neil can even chew before the team orders food which seems like a callous thing to ask but is in Neil's favour anyway bc Yes he should be eating soft food

She's doesn't hesitate to speak up when Andrew outs that the FBI are trying to take Neil away telling them to go to hell

She offers to pay for Neil to get his number 2 tattoo removed bc fuck Riko, Neil is a Fox

She, without question, drags him into her car so he doesn't have to suffer and climb into Matt's truck and drives him to the court

She instantly sorts out a cabin for them to all spend their holiday together so they can watch over and be with Neil after finally getting him back

She was in support of Neil defending the Foxes against the Ravens and the press despite the consequences (i.e their ruined cars)

There are so many instances where she wants to pry and get information from Neil but she holds off and waits for him to be ready to speak up instead

She 100% see's Neil as a troubled younger brother with the exact amount of fire in his vein's that she's come to love and respect. So, here are a couple of silly hc's about them post canon

Allison continues to keep up to date with Neil's career after he goes pro and is always posting support in his favour to her socials

An article comes out about Neil's sloppy style outside of the court and Allison insists on becoming his personal shopper for a month and if Neil won't pay attention to what clothes get him a more lingering look from Andrew, Allison sure does

She'll send Neil and Andrew co-ord suits whenever they have to attend any events so they always go in style and are the best dressed

She definitely personally designed their wedding suits for their big day

Once her fashion brand gets really really big she makes Neil and Andrew global ambassadors of the menswear which meeeanss photoshoots ~

She insists on being present for every one so as to make sure the photographers and crew don't make Neil and Andrew do anything they wouldn't be comfortable with

She makes sure to send the final cuts to Neil for approval before publishing/posting anything

(She then sends all the b-cut's of Neil's photos to Andrew in the mail and calls him saying "did you like your early bday present monster?" cackling loudly to herself when Andrew cuts the phone bc of course he did ((bc how could she miss he subtle heat in Andrew's eyes as he watched Neil pose behind the camera in jeans that were perfectly tailored to show his toned ass and slim waist)). Meanwhile Neil is shuffling through the pictures across the room, a faint blush on his cheeks bc no way does he look like this?!?!?? Andrew watches him for a good minute in silence before throwing them out of his hand and pushing Neil down to slowly take him apart with his hands and mouth)

#i love their relationship a little too much #it's callous but sweet #allison reynolds #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg

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bangtanhoneys · 4 months

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BTS WEDDING SERIES: Ceremony Time!

SEOKJIN

He had drunk about six bottles of water, one glass of whiskey, had made around ten trips to the bathroom and walked seven laps around Yoongi’s hotel bedroom while he waited for the time to tick. It hadn’t taken long to put on his designer suit, hadn’t taken too long for the make up and hair stylist to do what they needed to do, photographs and videos to be taken and it hadn’t even taken that long to get downstairs to the garden where the ceremony was going to take place

While Seokjin had been used to waiting around for award ceremonies, photoshoots, recordings and the like, this time it was completely different. Waiting for the woman of his dreams to walk down the aisle as the pianist played generic music in the background was causing anxiety levels to be kicked up to the max.

Waiting and waiting.

All eyes of the guests were on him, even as he stood up there with his six brothers and his actual older brother. There were excited murmurs over what was going to be the first BTS wedding and what he, as the eldest, was going to pull off.

He turned his back, as instructed by the officiant, to the aisle and stared straight ahead as he clasped his hands to the front. The music slowly changed to an instrumental version of his own song, Epiphany, something you had picked personally. He could hear the lyrics flow through his head as the pianist played the chorus.

He could hear the gasps, could hear the whispers, could feel his brother gently nudge his arm but he didn’t turn. Not until he felt your hand slip into his, fingers locking together, a promise of a lifetime, that he finally turned to smile at you.

“Ready?” you asked, grip tightening.

“For you? I’ll wait a lifetime.”

YOONGI

The fact he had married you only days before had settled his nerves. However, doing a semi-formal traditional Korean ceremony in front of everyone made every hair stand on end and it didn’t help that all morning he had nothing but teasing from the guys, how he was marrying you all over again even though you were already married.

And of course, he swore he wouldn’t cry but the sight of you in your dress made him swallow hard and blink a few times to keep said tears at bay.

Throughout the whole ceremony, he kept one eye on you and one eye on the MC before him. The wording and the bowing and the drinking of the wine flowed over his head like it was nothing - he just wanted to get to the end where in the eyes of his Korean family, you two were finally husband and wife.

A loud cheer made the world settle into place and he cupped your face, that loveable gummy smile on display and kissed your forehead. “Fully and completely mine now,” he said as he kept his forehead against your own.

“In the legal sense, Korean sense, BTS sense,” you replied with a small laugh as the congratulations flowed around you but you could see nothing but your groom in front of you and a long future ahead.

As he had once said, the future's going to be okay.

HOSEOK

“Hobi-hyung, you’re going to run out of tissues before she even gets here,” Jungkook scolded as he handed over a new pack to the man who had taken one look at the ceremony area and had promptly burst into tears.

And it happened again as they all stood at the top of the aisle, waiting for your appearance.

There were no words said when six handkerchiefs were passed down the line, ending up in Hobi’s hands. And no more words were said when his mother gently hugged him, whispered in his ear how beautiful you looked and no more words were said when the music finally changed.

He gasped as the 20,000 Swarovski crystals from the high ceiling of the cavernous ballroom sparkled along with the bodice of your dress. The bright flowers in the bouquet matching the wedding decor that you had carefully picked and how every thought and idea had gone into creating the wedding of your dreams.

Hobi hadn’t realised you were in front of him until he felt your hands on his face, wiping the stains of his tears away. He pressed his lips to your knuckles once he took hold of your hands and looked straight into your eyes, as if there were no one else in the room.

“I’m all yours now, my love.”

“I’m all yours as well, my hope.”

NAMJOON

It was becoming a bit of a running joke that morning as Jimin pointed to Namjoon’s smiling face and nudged Seokjin in the ribs. “He’s on cloud nine over there,” the mochi muttered with a giggle as the leader in question smiled at a guest who had congratulated him on his upcoming nuptials.

“At least he isn’t nervous,” Yoongi sighed as he called at Namjoon for forgetting his tie.

He wasn’t nervous, not in the slightest. He was marrying you in front of all your family and friends, ignoring the fact that there were also famous idols, celebrities, famous American singers and politicians in the guests numbers. If anything, he was a bubbling ball of happiness that had to be pulled down to earth when he was reminded it was time to get him married.

It was as if being the leader of BTS had prepared him for this moment - the professional cameras in his face, the amount of people there to watch him finally marry the love of his life, the little hint of security around the area to stop anyone getting in, how he could keep calm in the face of it all and simply stand there, turned towards the aisle.

Dimples were on complete show as he watched the bridesmaids walk down, stand on the other side of the aisle and he let out a deep breath when finally you appeared, looking gorgeous in the dress you had chosen to match the theme and the bouquet of flowers in ivory with more greenery than necessary to match.

“At least you didn’t get lost on the way,” you gently teased as your fingers grasped his and squeezed.

“I’d always find you anyway.”

JIMIN

He had been a constant ball of nerves since he woke up that morning. Pure adrenaline was fueling him when he opened the curtains to his hotel room and went through his mental checklist for the day - meet the boys in half an hour, shower, change, meet photographers, meet the guests, go over everything with the wedding co-ordinator, make sure you were ready by checking with your sister, get to the aisle, get married, party.

It repeated over and over in his head while he let his Yoongi-hyung finish the knot on his tie and made sure the wedding rings were in Taehyung’s pocket. He let his Namjoon-hyung check over his speech and got a thumbs up in return and watched as Jungkook, Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung run errands between the two rooms.

By the time they all got to the room, the guests were starting to arrive while oohing over the decor. Pink and gold, matching flowers on stands going down the aisle, a backdrop of white material with pink draping and gold clasps.

“Here we go,” Jimin breathed and took the tissue Taehyung handed him, without realising he had been crying. There were many doubts and thoughts that made him think you weren’t going to show up but that all drifted away when the familiar tune of ‘Wedding Day’ by Taeyang was played on piano.

Bridesmaids in gold dresses, drifted down with their pink flowers and the last one revealed you at the end in your light pink wedding dress. Doubts, thoughts, worries and issues were swept away with each step you took. Eyes caught yours, pinky fingers grasped together and you both turned to commit to a lifetime of promises.

TAEHYUNG

The Ballroom was ready to go having been dressed the night before by the team in the theme you both had requested - red roses, glass and silver glitter. Attention to detail like never before and the theme had followed over in the room down the hallway, in the Le Grand Trianon where they had managed to squeeze in everyone.

Celebrities, fashion designers, artists, idols, had taken every seat possible that hadn’t been reserved for your family. Everything had run smoothly from the moment he got up to the moment he put on his black dinner suit, long fingers coming up to fiddle with the bow tie until Namjoon-hyung gently slapped his fingers away for the fiftieth time.

The red rose on his lapel had been sprayed with your perfume and he took a quick sniff, letting the floral scent wash over him while he listened to everyone talk in the background. He had no worries of you not turning up, of you not saying yes. But the longer it was taking the more he started to get worried.

Maybe you had changed your mind the moment you saw the guests arriving.

Yet, out of the corner of his eye, the wedding team gave a nod to the band where the saxophonist stood up. The beginning notes of Can’t Help Falling in Love played as the doors opened to reveal you in your art-deco themed wedding dress, a large bunch of red roses and baby breath held in your hand as your father walked you down the aisle.

Your hands reached his, fingers twisting together as your eyes met as the lyrics came to mind ‘Take my hand, take my whole life to. For I can’t help, falling in love with you.’ That verse summed up perfectly the two of you as the saxophone played out the last notes.

“Ready?” Taehyung asked, grinning while squeezing your fingers.

“For the rest of my whole life.”

JUNGKOOK

Jungkook was vibing with excited nerves. He could hardly keep still even when the long arms of his Seokjin-hyung wrapped around him when he woke up in the morning, having spent the evening in the room with his two hyungs. Yoongi contently sleeping in the other bed, unaware of the chaos that would be brewing in the youngest.

They had kept him somewhat calm as he showered, got ready, and talked to his parents and his brother. Bam, dressed in a little bow tie, wagged his tail happily against Jungkook’s parents as the make up artist and hairstylist turned him into the idol JK. He would be Jungkook for his vows, but for now the idol persona swept in.

The sound of the Busan sea let him breathe finally as he followed his parents and his hyungs out of the room, towards the garden where the chairs had been laid and the wedding decor of white flowers, hints of black and purple peeking through especially on the arch that been set up at the end of the aisle.

The general music played around them as the guests started coming down the steps, heading towards the allocated seats.

“You ready?” Seokjin asked, reaching over to give the golden maknae a quick squeeze on his shoulder.

“Ready,” Jungkook nodded, though now he could feel the nerves.

His three friends from the 97s group, Mingyu from Seventeen, Eun-woo from Astro and Yugeom from GOT7 sat at the side of the wedding ceremony area with a small band that had been secured through Big Hit. All three of them waved when they caught Jungkook’s eye.

There was silence for a moment as the wedding co-ordinator gave the nod to the officiant who nodded at the boys and slowly the beats from 10,000 Hours written by Dan + Shay with Justin Bieber began to play with the three idols singing.

A tissue was pressed into his hand and Jungkook realised he was crying, his knees getting weak as Mingyu sang Justin Bieber’s part just as you started to walk down the aisle in your ivory dress and white flowers.

“I’m gonna love you,” he sang quietly underneath his breath once you reached his side, realising you were crying just as much as he was. He pressed his side against yours, hands slipping into a tight grasp as the singing finished.

It was time.

#bts fic #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts wedding au #bts wedding fic #bts wedding series #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

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chimivx · 11 months

Text

public occurrences. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader

summary: It's been almost a year since Vegas. As one would expect, life hasn't gotten any easier. If anything it's gotten even more chaotic. The world knows who you are now... There aren't anymore secrets to hide.

words: 6k

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS IN THE WARNINGS. use of cuss words, they talk of anxiety, some mental health situations, talks about a miscarriage, talks about Jin and other members leaving. other than that- not much else. If I missed anything PLEASE let me know.

a/n: CAN'T BELIEVE ANOTHER VEGAS IS HERE. Enjoy my loves. Thank you for all the love and support always. <3 It's just a short little drabble of one specific moment of time, but I thought it was pretty important.

~ the end of february 2023 ~

A dull pain begins to erupt where you’ve had your jaw clenched for the last twenty minutes. A soreness in your jaw you’re not quite sure will ever be able to go away. For the past few months it’s found itself in this compromised position.

Your entire body is made of steel, your joints creaking as you attempt to pull yourself together amidst the panic ensuing within your nervous system. Limbs heavy to the point you aren’t sure whether or not you’ll be able to exit the vehicle.

Breathe in, breathe out. The words repeat.

Breath in, breathe out. It made you want to sing Hobi’s song. Inhale, inhale, exhale, exhaaale. But there was no time for fun. Not when you were about to walk outside in front of cameras for the first time in eight years.

The morning was spent in a blur, the attempts to perfect your hair and makeup happening at an hour too early, much like how you rolled out of bed. An hour too early. You were awake before your daughter even had the chance to stir.

Anxiety had been simmering beneath your skin for weeks. You could barely eat, the nausea would rip through you violently. Again, for the past few months that’s how life has been, nausea, anxiety, melancholy thoughts and dreams, however this event seemed to be adding twice as much. These past few days you’ve probably accumulated a total of nine hours of sleep. You had more shuteye the week after your daughter's birth.

There seemed to be a butterfly effect from the events in Vegas. The incident that caused countless meetings and endless discussions because the company just couldn’t handle anymore media control or protection. You should never have trusted that girl.

BigHit took their time, the company drug out the announcement as long as they could so it would surpass Jin’s deployment and your goddamn wedding. Now, with it being the end of February, Yoongi’s been traveling absolutely everywhere for basketball games, photoshoots, and he’s announced a tour… It was about to happen. For the very first time in eight years you were officially about to be on camera, branded by flashes, posted online permanently, forever going to be seen and known as Min Yoongi’s wife.

Next to you, Yoongi grips your knee tight, in hopes to settle your worries. Glancing down to his knobby hand you sigh and suck in a deep breath.

“We’ll be fine,” he said softly. Meeting his comforting gaze, you attempt to smile, one that makes him laugh. “I promise. Remember everything we talked about?”

You do. Of course you do. It’s been playing on repeat for one hundred and sixty eight hours.

That’s how many hours are in a week. You had to google that.

When this entire plan was set in place you requested a play by play, a step by step tutorial- a rehearsal even! You were walking out into the public eye with your child for the first time. People knew who you were now.

There were going to be cameras, and fans, and paparazzi, and loud noises, and people rushing you, and standards to follow. It was all too much, it all seemed to be entirely too much. You were going to have a toddler on your hip, one who could barely stand to be in a room full of people her father worked with let alone god knows how many strangers at an airport.

“What happens first?” Yoongi asked, reaching for one of your hands to tangle his fingers with yours. He could feel your panic. “Tell me the first thing we’re going to do.”

Gulping, you respond, “Park.” Looking up at his short hair that you’re livid with- his long hair was dreamy, and sexy, and you could pull it- you receive another laugh. He hadn’t expected you to be so literal.

“Good, we’ll park,” he praised. “And then what?” Tipping his chin down his eyes widened a bit, becoming all the more endearing.

“Then, Branson and his team get out,” you said, feeling a bit better looking into his eyes. Yoongi gives you a soft smile, dragging his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Has Branson ever let you down?”

“Never,” you whispered. Almost nine incident free years with the man, after Yoongi, you depended on.

Your husband leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Exactly,” he said. “What happens next?”

Going through the last three simple steps, everything seemed ready to go to plan. Once Branson was ready, you were going to take your daughter out of her carseat, exit the car, and follow the men inside. You would be the one to carry your daughter, just in case. People were unpredictable in these situations, and Yoongi agreed that if something were to happen to him here, you should be the one to carry her inside. As much as that little comment terrified you to hear him say, he was right.

Simple as pie. You hoped.

In a perfect world that’s how it would happen, and you want nothing more than for this to go smoothly.

People knew your name. Everyone has found out that it’s been years. The company was prepared for mass destruction, and so were you and Yoongi. A first public appearance, this is where it would all go to shit. There isn’t much chaos people can fully ensue over the internet.

As for your friends, the two of you personally asked them to stay out of it and at the drop of a hat they agreed. The five boys and Sunny shook on it. No one would say a word publicly, no one would do any interviews, no tweets, no Instagram posts, no stories pushed, no Weverse comments. Silence. Radio silence.

Jin has most definitely heard what has happened, and the next time you and Yoongi get to see him, there will be tea to spill. Your heart aches whenever you think about him, especially for Yoongi. He’s had to go through this madness and so much more without his best friend.

The week after he left was complete and utter hell for your family. And not just because of Jin.

Pushing aside all thoughts of having to redo the motions with Hobi very soon, you come to realize that steps one and two of the plan have already commenced.

The black SUV was parked in front of the airport, and Branson and his team were setting themselves up. Through the dark tinted windows there are crowds upon crowds of people, masses of them so large one would think the entire band was here. It reminded you of a concert, they were all waiting in groups with their phones out, pointing them at the vehicles that you and your team were in.

Slapping your hand on top of Yoongi's, you grip it tight, digging your nails into his palm. He places his other right on top of yours.

“I can’t do it,” you mumbled, whipping your head to shoot him a terrified look.

Yoongi smiles, though your fear threatens to crack him. If this wasn’t ordered by the company he’d whisk you away to safety, getting inside the airport without a soul knowing. He’s broken these rules before, going against what his company wants for your sake, it’s been eight years of you coming first, you topping all things that have to do with his job.

Now that the gig was up, now that people knew who you were and knew that it’s been forever, he feels as though he owes it to his fans to do a three minute appearance. As much as he was deeply in love with you, he loved his fans almost as much. He wanted to show you off, he wanted the world to see who’s been keeping him sane all this time, who’s been the source of his happiness for years.

“Yanno, the last time you told me that you seemed to handle everything just fine,” he said, glancing at your sleeping daughter beside you. Blowing a gust of air through your lips, you roll your eyes.

“I didn’t have to do any work, D, they cut her out of me,” you grilled back, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t-” your words are cut off by a sudden short breath. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” escapes you in a whisper.

Branson taps his fist on the window a couple of times gently, signaling that he was ready for the three of you to come out. The murmurs from the crowds can be heard, leaking through the cracks in the doors, swarming around you constricting your chest.

Yoongi slips an arm around your back, holding you against him tight. Burying your face into his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and takes a deep breath. You can feel his beating heart steady between his lungs. This was just another day for him. He’s had ten years to grow used to this.

“I was afraid this was going to happen,” he said softly. Peeking up at him, you frown.

“What?” you question, lowering your brows. He nods a couple of times, giving you a small smile.

“I was afraid this was going to happen, because I knew this was going to happen,” he said.

“Me freaking out, right?” you sighed, your tone completely breathless. A soft hum leaves his chest as he ponders what you’ve said, then he shakes his head. “What?” you question again with more vigor.

“Well,” he huffs a gentle laugh, “I figured something along the lines of that would happen, but only ‘cause of her,” he nods to your daughter, “Not because you’re scared of going out there. You’re only worried for her. If it were seven years ago you think you’d feel this way?”

Shaking your head to answer him, the electricity coursing through your veins seems to subside.

“Exactly,” he smirked. “Before her you were dancing in the streets before my shows, you were talking to people, my fans! You were prancing around stadiums and concerts like it was nothing.”

“I loved doing that,” you smiled.

“Fuck yeah, you loved doing that,” he said, giving you the smallest shake. “And, you know what? It’s not just you going out there as my wife, right? They know what you’ve done for us, they know what you’ve made for us.”

Your smile starts to grow. He was right. The fans, the people, they loved your work. The music videos, the art, the TinyTan, the creative concepts, the photoshoots, all of it. They finally knew that it was you. The ghost creator had been unveiled.

“You probably have fans of your own,” Yoongi said matter of factly. “I guarantee you all these people are here for you, not me.” Frowning humorously, you make him laugh.

“Doubt that,” you said flatly.

“Alright, half and half,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We can do this, you can do this. We’re doing it together, like we do everything. We’ll get through this together. We always do. Just think, next time we see Jin we have to tell him all about this, he’ll never believe it.”

Averting your eyes from his, your mind is suffocated by the many, many things you’re going to have to tell Jin when you’re with him again, which you’re hoping is soon. So much has happened, so much has changed, and it’d only been about three months.

“Yeah,” you whispered, flickering your eyes up to Yoongi who’s flashing you a curious look. “He probably still thinks I’m pregnant.”

A flash of discomfort wrecks his expression for all of two seconds as he glances away from you with a breath. Swallowing hard, he relaxes his face and looks back at you, his lips pressed together tight.

“He, uh,” he began in a whisper, “He... knows.” Before you have a chance to say anything, the subtle shock on your face telling him plenty, he cuts you off. “I’m sorry, baby. I had to tell him, it’s Jin, that’s my best friend, he’s the only one I could even say the words to.”

Sitting up a bit, you reach a hand up to cup his cheek, dragging your thumb over his smooth skin. “D, it’s okay,” you reassured him, bobbing your head. His lips form a pout, one that gets you to giggle. “I promise, it’s okay.”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two of you, feelings swirling around the empty air as you both choose what to do or say next. Yoongi leans into you, kissing your forehead once more before placing his own there.

“You’re so incredible,” he said, watching you flutter your eyes shut. “The strongest woman I know, the most talented woman I know. On top of having such a beautiful, creative mind, you’re a fucking fantastic mother.” Yoongi pauses, taking a deep breath, as do you. “He was lucky to have you for as long as he did.”

A lump lodges in your throat. Scrunching your face, you shake your head, rubbing your forehead to his.

“Don’t make me cry,” you said, voice wavering with uncertainty.

“Cry?” a tiny voice speaks up from your right, a yawn of the same intensity coming out of her straight after. Popping your eyes open you share a small smile with your husband, and just as you’re about to turn to your little one, Yoongi slips a hand beneath your chin, holding you in place.

“Hey,” his voice is soothing. “I love you.” Your heart flutters.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, accepting the quick kiss he gives you.

Turning to the carseat that has secured a permanent spot in this car, you smile at your daughter who has her head turned toward you and her father. Her sleepy eyes entice a happy hum from you.

“You were supposed to sleep through this,” you said sarcastically sweet. Yoongi chuckles, unbuckling from his seat. The clang of the metal on the door makes your heart skip a beat.

“No,” your daughter said. “No sleep. All done.” Her voice is tiny, and slightly broken, and not hitting all of the right sounds, but her speech has only been improving. The two of you speak to her like she’s a human being, saving the baby voices for when she’s feeling silly, which can attest to her strong vocabulary and understanding of conversation.

You’re beginning to think she is a genius like her father.

“Mama, up,” she cooed, reaching out her arms that were finally starting to get a little chubby. Her cheeks had caught up to her as well, they were finally perfectly pinchable.

Freeing her from the car seats restraints, your daughter aids you in her escape, launching herself forward and up into your arms with a shout.

“Oh!” she giggles once her arms are around your neck and her face is buried in your hair.

“Oh!” you and Yoongi copy her, to which she responds with another shout.

Her attentive eyes point out the window when she sits herself up, tapping on your shoulder a couple of times with her palm. Lifting a hand, she tries to point at the crowds of people.

“Where?” she asked curiously, looking to either of her parents for an answer. Her voice turned you into a complete puddle, the sound coming out as ‘Wheh?’, the middle syllable is even more pronounced when she questions the two of you again.

Yoongi brings a hand to her forehead, brushing away a few dark hairs that fell into her eyes. The girl hated bows, you stopped trying.

“We’re at the airport,” he told her, and she listened with all of her might. “We’re going on a plane, isn’t that fun? You like flying.” Her eyes blink a few times, taking her time to process the words.

Sighing aloud, dramatically of course, she glances out the window and mumbles a jumble of sounds. Following her gaze, you gulp.

Eager eyes of bystanders attempted to shatter the glass of the tinted windows.

“Mama,” your daughter said, looking at you. “Go, Mama,” she bounced once. “Go,” she bounced twice. You knew the moment you stepped out into the noise and the flashing lights that she would have a meltdown, but you admired her desire to get out of the car. Yoongi was right, she loved flying, it was her second favorite thing right now. Securely at number one was Jungkook, for a year and seven months. That spot was unattainable for anyone else.

“Shall we?” Yoongi offered, watching you fiercely, letting you take the lead. He waited patiently for your answer, heaving a sigh of relief when you finally gave him a tentative nod of your head.

“Dada, go,” your daughter babbled. “Mama, go. Dada, go. Mama, go.”

Sharing a laugh with Yoongi, you take a long deep breath and tighten your grip around her back, holding her in front of your chest. Smiling at you, your baby touched a hand to your cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered to her. She leans her head toward you and puts her nose on yours.

“Ah-luh-oo,” she tried her best to repeat. Stealing a kiss from her, you let Yoongi press a thousand to her cheek to make her giggle, and then it’s time.

Everything seems to move in slow motion, your vision tunneling as your husband opens the car door. Pulling a mask over his face, he sends you a reassuring wink before he rounds the vehicle.

Screams erupt from every corner of the space, and shouting from the team can already be heard. Strict shouting, like things were getting crazy already. Your daughter’s eyes are wide as she looks out the windows and up at you. Her curiosity has been swapped for a little bit of fear.

You couldn’t let her see you panic.

Sliding off of the leather seat and onto the concrete of the airport lot, you pull a mask over your own face and instantly slip a hand to the back of your baby's head. Her legs were wrapped around your torso, and the moment you stepped outside her arms clung around your neck for safety. You already had a suspicion that you weren’t going to have to actively try to hide her face, she would want to do that herself.

Your bags were already taken care of, there wasn’t anything else you needed to grab from the car other than your child and yourself. Everything else would be taken care of for you.

With another deep, dramatic breath, you hold your daughter close, allowing her to bury her face into your neck, and you circle the car like Yoongi had. Upon rounding the back, cameras that were already flashing began to flash faster, quicker. Wide eyed and stunned by the greeting of screams, you barely have time to process anything before Branson grabs your arm.

It’s a gentle tug, one to help keep you on track. He pulls you close to him, staying one step ahead of you as you wait for a couple of seconds in front of the car. Glancing amongst the crowd, it’s mainly full of paparazzi and probably some journalists. Behind the tall men and their cameras you can see the fans, the ones holding up their phones and jumping up and down trying to catch a glimpse at the commotion.

Airport security guards held some people back, though no one seemed to be trying to push through excessively, which was your main fear.

“Another minute here,” Branson said to you, leaning into your ear. “They need photos, then we go.” Nodding, you peek down at your girl who was content clinging to her mother and hiding from the chaos. A sound of admiration rips through the crowd as you stroke her back, one that surprises you.

Up ahead, close to the doors, Yoongi was walking backward slowly, watching you. His fans twisted their heads side to side, from him, to you, and back again. To spice things up a bit, he gives you a wave, and everyone goes nuts.

You can’t help but laugh at him, eyes crinkling at the sides. For some reason you had thought he’d treat you differently when you were outside, but aside from following the rules, he was still your husband. He points to the baby on your chest and questions you with a thumbs up. Another giant ‘Awh!’ rolls through the chattering crowd.

Sending a thumbs up back, the fans laugh, and cheer. Then, your heart plummets to your stomach.

From somewhere within the crowd your name is shouted. And then again. Before you knew it, the entire crowd wanted your attention. Overwhelmed, feeling utterly insane, your eyes well up with tears. You're unable to make out anything else they’re saying though, there were too many people talking at once, and to you, that was a good thing.

God forbid anybody had anything bad to say. You’ve heard it before, but you don’t need to live it in real time.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled. Branson leans into you again, questioning what you’ve said. Turning to him, you smile and repeat, “Holy shit!”

“You’re okay?” he asked, gently putting a hand over your shoulder blade.

“I- I think so?” you said to him, raising your voice over the crowd that was only getting louder. Glancing down to your daughter who’s little fists were attempting to rip holes in your sweater, you send a look to Yoongi, and he stops walking all together. Bundled up in the safety of her mothers arms wasn’t enough for the baby, she needed to be out of this situation immediately. “Branson we have to go.”

“I don’t have the signal yet, we need Yoongi inside before we move forward,” he said. Frowning, you knew the man was just doing his job, but a cry from your daughter flipped a switch within you.

“We need to go,” you insisted, shooting him a glare. Cradling the back of her head, you press your masked lips to her hair and take a deep breath, hoping she’d feel as much of your love as possible.

“Go! Get him inside,” Branson spoke into the tiny walkie he carried on his chest, gesturing toward the door with persistence.

The crowd, now roaring, and growing larger, began to push. The barriers that were blocked by guards were spilling over the edge.

Branson placed a hand to the top of your shoulder and held onto you tight. Grabbing the little speaker, he spoke clearer. “We need to move forward, and we cannot do that if you cannot get him indoors.”

Up ahead your husband was watching you with a heated gaze. His attention didn’t deter from you once. His heart twisted when you cradled your daughter, when he saw Branson begin to get defensive. The hand that was placed protectively on your shoulder could make him scream, and the team behind him, calling after him to get him to step inside the airport made his thoughts fuzzy.

What the hell was he doing? Why would he ever allow the two of you, the most important people in his life, why would he allow you to do it alone? This was the very first time you’ve done this, and he’s realized now that he’s made the biggest mistake.

Forgetting everything he was told, everything he’s learned, Yoongi bounds toward you, using the fast paced walk that his fans clown him for. They absolutely lose their minds, the people around you.

Wide eyed and shocked, you’d never think he’d break the rules on this one, you sigh in relief when he reaches your side. An arm wraps around your shoulder, Yoongi closing you in front of his chest.

“What are you doing?” you asked, giving your head a small shake.

Your husband smiles, reaching up to pull his mask off of his face, removing yours as well.

“Not letting you do it alone,” he said to you, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. As you could’ve guessed, the collective lost their minds.

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” you smiled up at him, laughing as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

“You two are always worth it,” he said. “Now, c’mon,” he stepped aside to hold you behind your back, keeping you tucked beneath his arm. Using his other hand he rubbed the baby’s back and gave her cheek a quick kiss, happy to find that once he joined you two she had calmed down. “Let’s go see Kookie.”

Her head shot right up with enormous dark eyes full of stars. “Koo-hee?!”

“Koo-hee!” Both you and Yoongi copy her tiny voice, making her giggle with the silly smiles you flash at her.

The world around you seemed to melt away the second you were in your husband's arms, like all of a sudden you had the strength to handle anything the world would have thrown at you. His grip around your body as he walked with you into the airport was enough to silence the crowd, and power your legs to get through the doors without an incident.

A mere twenty minutes later, the three of you were seated on the plane, your daughter snoozing soundly on her fathers chest while you scrolled through your phone, curious to see what the internet has had to say of your appearance already. Resting his head on your shoulder, Yoongi followed along, making a sweet comment at every single photo of you.

“Oh, that one is the best,” he said quietly, your Twitter scroll stopping on a picture of the three of you before you walked off. The big, genuine, happy smiles you and Yoongi wore were priceless as you grinned at your baby girl, one whose face didn’t make it into any photos- thank the good Lord that somebody believes in. “You should post that one.”

Giving him a sideways glance, you huff a gentle laugh. “To my Instagram? It’s just gone public, you want me to blow it up even more?”

Yoongi tips his chin up, flashing you pouty puppy dog eyes. “I just want them all to know you’re mine. Both of you. I want everyone to know I’m yours, and I always have been.” You gave his forehead a kiss.

“Okay,” you nodded, “I’ll post it. Her face isn’t in any of these, so I can post as many as I want.”

Settling comfortably on your shoulder once again, Yoongi gave you caption advice for the post- an emoji that seemingly had nothing to do with the photo… But, you used it anyway. The angel emoji, with a halo and little wings.

“That one’s perfect,” he whispered, tapping on it for you.

“If you say so,” you smiled. Yoongi sat up a bit, carefully to not disturb his sleeping daughter. “You always pick the random ones.”

“Every single one I use means something,” Yoongi gazed at you fiercely. “That little guy,” he pointed to the angel, “That makes four of us.”

Your lips parted in surprise, unsure of what to say. That week in December devastated you both. Your stomach flips while you watch him study your face. The whirlwind life you live hasn’t given either of you proper time to process, or grieve.

“Baby,” he whispered, closing the space between you to touch his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to post it if you don’t want to.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your eyes welling with tears, you furrow your brows. “What did I do wrong,” escaped you in an exasperated gust of air. Yoongi shifted, wrapping an arm around your back.

“No,” he said, putting on his strong facade. “We don’t do that, we’ve talked about this. You know there wasn’t anything you did wrong. There wasn’t anything I did wrong. You heard the doctor say it, baby, multiple times. You gave him the perfect home, you’re healthy.” Yoongi paused to gauge where you were, praying that you were listening to him.

You respond after a few seconds, bobbing your head. Taking a deep breath, Yoongi swallows down the lump in his throat.

“It just wasn’t his time,” he whispered. “He wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah,” you whispered fast. Yoongi’s thumb found your cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen.

“And, you remember the last time we were there, they said we could try again whenever we were ready,” he said. The end of last month you had a check-up with your doctor, just to make sure things were back to normal, and that your body was holding up alright. Your second pregnancy was a surprise, much like the first, you and Yoongi haven’t seemed to learn your lesson. However, losing your son before you had even gotten the chance to hold him in your arms put a lot of things into perspective for the two of you.

There were routine check-ups, you were eating better- both of you! This second child was something that you and your husband both wanted, and though each of your emotions have been through the wringer… You would be willing to try again when you felt like you could handle it.

“I want to,” you whispered. Yoongi smiled, but you could see his own worries within it. “I know, I feel the same way.”

“Together,” he cuts off the nervousness quickly. “We’ll do it together.”

“Uh, we kinda have to,” you giggled, making him laugh.

“I can’t wait,” he sing-songed through clenched teeth with a grin, stealing a kiss from you. Yoongi backs away from you to check on your sleeping daughter who hasn’t made a peep. He was surprised she had let her eyes shut while she was beside the window, normally she’d be gazing out at the clouds passing by.

Picking your phone up off of your lap, you smile at the angel emoji and click post, letting the notifications flood in like wildfire. This was all brand new. You were allowed to make your Instagram public about a week ago, and since then you’ve reached four million followers, while you used to have forty-six. Silencing the notifications from the app, every photo you’ve ever posted amassed an incredible amount of likes. Your feed was a feast, and the public was hungry.

Four million followers and counting. The number was only going to get bigger.

Watching the photo gain twenty thousand likes whenever you refreshed the page, you nudged Yoongi’s shoulder to show him what was happening, and when he turned his head to look, an unknown number you’ve never seen before popped onto your screen, calling you.

“What the…” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes.

Yoongi snatched the phone from your hand and quickly snapped a photo of the screen with his own, then he silenced yours and went into it, blocking the number who tried to reach you. He called Branson over and showed him the photo, letting the head of security take his phone with him.

“Trace this, or, do something. Tell me who's number this is,” his voice is stern, on alert.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you said, laying your head down on his shoulder. “People get scam calls all the time.”

“Not us,” he said, tone flat.

Not even ten minutes passed before Branson came back, kneeling on the row of chairs in front of your family. He placed his elbows on the head rests and took a deep breath, darting his eyes back and forth from Yoongi to yours.

“Well?” Yoongi asked. Branson handed him his phone and frowned.

“Uh,” he stumbled over a few words, unsure of how to say what he needed to say. “We, um… The phone number belongs to your mother.” His voice is hushed, quiet, like he was afraid to tell you, when in actuality he was afraid to tell Yoongi. Touchy subject. Especially now.

There had been a restraining order set in place since the day after your daughter's first birthday. Yoongi held the meetings and took care of everything, all you had to do was sign.

Neither one of your parents were allowed to contact you, speak to you or your daughter, or try to see you in person. They were not allowed to mail anything to you, send anyone to see you in place of themselves, nor were they allowed to be in touch with anyone close to you. Sunny included. You had to make a list.

Expecting him to jump out of his seat, you stretch a hand over his lap and grab his other hand, the one on your daughter's back. Sitting up, you turn toward him ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of his expression. It had not faltered. He was stone faced, and you were sick to your stomach.

“Sue her,” he said. Turning to you, he sighed. “We’re changing your number again.”

“D, come on, it’s not like-”

“I don’t care,” he said, peering down to admire his daughter. “She clearly hasn’t gotten the message that you don’t want anything to do with her.” He pointed his focus back to Branson. “Fight it. Do what you can.”

“Got it,” the guard said, and whisked himself away.

It’s quiet for a moment before Yoongi said, “Why are you defending her?”

“I’m not defending her,” you said, and he raised a brow, giving you a funny look. “It’s just… Super annoying to give everyone a new phone number for the third time.” Both your lips turn up into a smile. “Sue the bitch, I don’t care, D.” Yoongi laughs. “Just don’t make me change my number again, I beg of you.”

“Alright,” he said. “No new number. BUT!” His raised volume made your daughter stir. “One more thing happens, you’re changing it.” The little one lifted her head, blinking a few times before she grinned at her father.

“Fine,” you whispered, not that he was paying attention anymore anyway. Your daughter took his full focus, and all of his kisses.

It seemed silly to just now realize that today was something of a confirmation of the last eight years. Living your life, being a secret to millions of others, while you and the people you cared most about knew, was nice, and secure, and peaceful. But, now… Now that everyone knew, the peace grew. It swallowed you whole, engulfing you and your family with stability and ease.

No more accidental reveals. No more false stories. No more rumors the company had to shut down. No more hiding.

You were absolutely free, and for now, that was everything.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

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@jewelrnicorn @yoongisducky @all-american-fangirl @funkylittlebisexuall @ahewlett @damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place

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wen-kexing-apologist · 7 months

Note

Can I ask, why do you love BL romance better than het romance? What makes them better? I did not mean anything negative, and I know everyone have their own like and dislike but I want to know your thoughts....

Also what do you think that made Asian MLM (BL manga/manhwa/manhua/tv series/movies) romances better than western MLM romances?

Hello! Yes you are more than welcome to ask :) I truly, truly love getting asks in my inbox and have been having so much fun with the fact I’ve actually been getting some recently! Warning this is long (but i have TL;DRs for everything)

___

I think the fastest answer for me is that I am queer, and therefore I find I have a lot more enjoyment and interest in watching queer stories compared to heterosexual ones.

Also, I find a lot of heterosexual romances to be steeped in misogyny, and have low-key or high-key abusive dynamics. And again, do not get me wrong, there are plenty of queer shows where there are abusive dynamics in play, but it is much harder for misogyny to be committed between two men than it is for misogyny to be placed on a male/female pairing. (I love GLs cause, you know…women, but there are a lot more complex dynamics going in to stories written about two women and those can get much trickier for me, and unfortunately many narratives love punishing lesbains with death so.... Anyway, I’m trying to stick mostly to BLs since that is primarily what this ask is about.)

Additionally, I love BLs more than heterosexual romances because of how BLs treat men. Men in heterosexual romances, especially in the West are extremely masculine, often unable to be in touch with their emotions, jaded, misogynistic, they have to be extremely muscular, and we almost never see femme boys or men.

BLs have such a vast range of men, they have twinks, they have femmes, they have gym bros. They have the clowns, and the super masculine boys. There are shows that let boys be boys, be stupid, and stinky, and fucking gross (hey Pat from Bad Buddy), they let boys be angry and aggressive and express their emotions that way (Sean and Yok’s fight in Not Me, Han Baram and Im Hantae’s conversation in the boxing ring in Sing My Crush, Lom and Nuea in The Wedding Plan, Patts in La Pluie), they let boys fight and wrestle and play (Bad Buddy, My School President, Moonlight Chicken, Only Friends). I love queer stories that let men be gay and ensure through the story that that never undermines their masculinity. I love that there are shows that focus on the progress older men can make in their relationships (What Did You Eat Yesterday?) THEY ARE ALSO ALLOWED TO CRY!!!!

And though it is still kind of rare, Asian BLs actually do have femme boys, and while I am sure femme boys exist in Western shows, I think Pose and fucking Glee are like…the only two shows with queer people that I have seen in the last decade that have an femme boy representation at all. On the flip side, I love how often GMMTV puts their boys in drag and that doesn’t even have to be in a queer show. I also generally love the fact that most of the male actors in Asian BLs, and again, especially in Thailand embrace their femme sides in photoshoots and whatnot, that they wear earrings, and jewelry, and makeup and they look hot as fuck, because it helps me with my own gender identity. I feel and see myself much more masculine (and have less dysphoria) when I have an earring or a necklace or makeup on, now that I have seen so many boys do the same.

TL;DR: I am queer, and heterosexual romances are frequently misogynistic, and men are extremely masculine and rarely allowed to be soft. Asian BLs give us a very broad range of masculinity, but often let boys be boys while also kissing boys. And actors embracing their femme sides helps me feel more masculine when I lean in to my femme side.

___

As for Asian MLM romances compared to Western MLM romances, obviously this is not a cut and dry thing, not all Asian BLs are going to be better than Western BLs but I find I have a tendency to enjoy Asian BLs/queer media more for a few reasons, generally in order of most to least important for me:

Reason One- Family

This may seem somewhat surprising because the first, and honestly biggest reason I tend to like Asian BLs more than Western BLs has much less to do with the queer aspect. It's actually the family dynamics. I think Western media very frequently has a tendency to be very binary in their portrayal of family dynamics, if family is at all included in Western narratives the relationships that characters have to their family is either almost wholly good, or almost wholly bad. You either have a very abusive household that a character is trying to avoid or flee, or you have a traditional, happy, nuclear family, and when characters have a strained relationship to their family, I have noticed a lot more narrative support for leaving that family behind. But for the most part, family does not play a huge role in most Western shows (and, wild concept to me, it’s part of why I think shows like Succession are so successful, because that is all about complex, fucked up, and loving relationships within a family).

Whereas, in Asian media, far more frequently family and family dynamics play a huge role in the character’s lives, behaviors, and can influence the story. And because filial piety is such an important aspect to many Asian cultures, you get a lot more interesting parent/child relationships out of Asian media than you do with Western content. And I am a white Westerner, but I am fundamentally, culturally a Southerner and despite no longer being a woman, I will never shed the mantle of Eldest Daughter. And that has resulted in a sense of family responsibility and piety that ends up making it very very easy for me to understand the motivations of the characters that remain loyal to their family even when their family is asking for things from them that run counter to their own desires or happiness (I’ve actually had this conversation a lot with @waitmyturtles about the intersections of Southern culture and Asian culture).

And similarly, I find that a lot of Western media with queer characters at least in the time frame that I have been able to find content with queer characters is either wholly homophobic, or wholly accepting. And do not get me wrong, we get family dynamics like that in Asian BLs too, but we also get parents who are upset about their child’s queerness, and will voice that, and yet who still take care of their children. I’m thinking of the film I watched just the other day called Margarita with a Straw where the main character’s mother can barely look or talk to her daughter when she comes out, but because she is disabled, her mother is still there preparing food for her, bathing her, etc. because even if she is upset about her child’s queerness she can’t stop taking care of her. And those aren’t dynamics I often see in Western media.

I don’t see relationships like Sawismol and Wang in Western media, where a mother can look at her child and say, out loud that she is disappointed, and to be upset, and to still, despite everything, be the person that her son goes to for comfort when he is absolutely devastated, and I don’t see Western parents sitting there and performing that comfort even when they are disappointed in their children’s queerness.

TL;DR: Family dynamics feel a lot more built out, realistic, and complex in many Asian BLs/media that I’ve seen, than they do in many Western shows. Until I started watching Asian media, I had not seen the dynamics I have with my mother or my father played out on screen.

Reason Two- Casual Trans Inclusion

And, as a trans person myself, part of what makes Asian BL shows, Thai shows much more specifically, so important, interesting, and influential to me when compared to Western BLs is the casual inclusion of trans people. Like, that is just something Western media is barely ready for. It’s not non-existent. We have and have had shows like The Fosters, Sense8, Pose, The Owl House, and Heartstopper that have some trans rep. But a lot of those shows have a hefty component to them that shows the struggles of being trans.

In The Fosters we have to watch Cole nearly die trying to get his hands on testosterone, in Sense8 we have to watch Nomi be kept as a medical prisoner and stripped of her autonomy and almost lobotomized, in Pose we are constantly exposed to the very real dangers that trans women of color experience including murder, in Heartstopper we are spared from having to witness the transphobia Elle went through, but it is mentioned. I think the only one of these shows that doesn’t have some element of struggle because a character is trans is The Owl House and let us not forget that Raine Whispers goes through fucking hell in that show. And these conversations, and the demonstrations of struggle to just survive and thrive despite that is vitally important in a society that is pushing closer and closer towards genocide against trans people. Stories that show the struggles of trans people exist for the sake of realism but also serve as an attempt to try to garner empathy towards trans people by cisgender viewers.

Thailand does have stories where a trans character experiences transphobia (3 Will Be Free, The Warp Effect, Secret Crush on You), but they also have so many stories where trans people are literally just vibing. Do you know how revolutionary it was for me when I watched KinnPorsche and saw Yok, and she was happy, and beautiful, and fun, and her entire plot centered around her running that bar, flirting with boys, and playing surrogate mother to Porsche? Or just to see trans women existing, who aren’t even central to the plot, but are just there? (Payu’s secretary at the auto shop is a trans woman, Golf Tanwarin was at the inclusive cafe in The Eclipse, Golf Kittipat had an illustrious career as a music producer in My School President). Like that shit is SO important to me, and I never, never see it in Western media.

TL;DR: There are many Thai shows especially where trans people just exist, and they have plots that aren’t always centered around them being trans. Which is revolutionary, coming in as a trans Western viewer where the majority of trans rep in Western shows makes me eventually have to watch trans people suffer.

Reason Three- Passion Projects

The film industry is huge and pervasive in Western culture, and in the US especially, and with that comes big budget projects that stretch out as long as they can squeeze a cent out of a fan base. As a result you get shows that are too long, you get shows that ruin their premise in the last season after five to fifteen years of dragging the shambling corpse of a story along. And again, do not get me wrong, there are plenty plenty of Asian BLs that are cash grabs, that are terrible, where the actors aren’t really in it. But, most BLs in Asia are one season, they get in, they get out, and you forget it if it’s bad, or you hate it forever if it’s objectively bigoted. But the time commitment to terrible pieces is a lot shorter.

That said, when you have a low budget, and a story you want to tell, it makes my love so much more. Because it means the crew, the writers, the director, and often time the actors are there because they want to be there, because they like the story they are telling, because they have a story they want to tell. It’s part of why I love shows like The Eclipse so much, because that show was made with a budget mainly comprised of pocket lint and hope, because Golf Tanwarin had something they wanted to say. Most if not all of Aof Nopparnach’s shows give genuinely, inherently queer stories that speak to queer people. Jojo Tichakorn makes pieces that are so full of queer lenses you could never deny the inherent queerness in his shows, even if the story is primarily focused on a straight person/relationship (Mama Gogo). There are so many shows in the Asian BL world where you can just tell that everyone is having fun. LIsten, Fish Upon the Sky is an extremely problematic show, but for me it felt like everyone had a great time goofing off on that set. You can tell EV-ER-Y-BOD-Y in the cast of Mama Gogo was having the time of their motherfucking lives.

I also think the West is very self-congratulatory and tends to hold themselves as the standard of televisions and acting, when I am over here watching Asian BLs with some of the strongest acting from young people I have ever seen, and having it be written off because its a) low budget b) gay and c) in another language. Like, when I try to get people in to BL I start with shows like KinnPorsche (which I know drives @bnegiyo mad) cause it has a much higher production value than many other Asian BLs without being prestige and therefore can’t radically alter the perception of what BL is (hello ITSAY/IPYTM and 180 Degrees), Thai BLs especially. And I figure that is the only way to show someone the level of absurdity and camp that comes from a lot of BLs, while also maintaining their interest because it has a higher production value, so that if they end up enjoying that they are more willing to watch the low budget shows.

TL;DR: Many Asian BLs are pretty low budget, compared to like any Western show, which I find to mean we have more stories in Asian BL that people actually want to tell. (there are still very many shows that people seem to just kinda show up for, or get bored with partway through [looking at you Tee] but.)

Reason Four- Abundance

There are

Many

Asian

BLs

Here's a fraction of my watch list

I have watched 81 in roughly the last year, and there are so many more on my Plan to Watch list, and there are more coming out all the time. The West has given me like…two, maybe three. And when we do get good queer shows in the West, they are frequently canceled before completion. Especially if they are on Netflix.

We lost Sense8, fans had to fight for Out Flag Means Death to get renewed, The Owl House got cancelled by Disney after giving their main character a girlfriend, ND Stevenson had to write two ending to She-Ra and fought tooth and fucking nail to get the gay one, Legend of Korra had to save the gay kiss until the end just like She-Ra had to. If you want to get depressed here is a link to an article ‘50 TV shows with Lesbian, Bisexual, and Queer characters cancelled after one season’. Because most Asian BLs are meant to be only one season, we actually get complete stories, rather than ending with unresolved tension, or cliffhangers.

TL;DR: there is a metric fuck ton of Asian BLs

Reason Five- Sex

The West, especially the US, tends to have a very puritanical view of sex (which makes sense because the Puritans were some of the first colonizers…I mean colonials…to murder everyone and occupy…uh, I mean settle the United States (I would also like to place blame on the Italians and Spanish [hey Columbus] and their Catholicism AND PROTESTANT CALVINISM that also influenced the pervasive societal views of sex and especially gay sex in the United States).

With ever increasing homophobia and transphobia, so many shows are trying, in my own personal opinion, to garner empathy, sympathy, and acceptance for queer characters by cisgender and/or heterosexual viewers by making their queer characters flat, two-dimensional, virginal, perfect people. But homophobes and transphobes consider holding hands to be just as grotesque and inappropriate as full on porn. With Western, and especially US based, views of sex, many queer characters are sanitized, sex scenes are rare, and if they do exist at all they are usually in shows that have mature ratings.

That is not the case with Asian BLs. Like, do not get me wrong, there are plenty of pure, virginal, don’t kiss, barely touch BLs out there, but because there are so many BLs, there are also plenty of shows with lots of physical intimacy and multiple make out scenes that aren’t maturely rated, as well as plenty of maturely rated shows that have multiple sex scenes AND CAN INCLUDE KINK WHICH LIKE!!!!! I rarely see in the Western media I’ve watched. Hell, Sense8 is a sexual liberation show that includes multiple orgies, but there is not even a hint of any other kink (besides whatever Dani, Lito, and Hernando have going on).

gif by @radishayuan

Meanwhile, The Warp Effect has fucking puppy play, Bed Friend has pet play, Laws of Attraction which has a couple pretty chaste kisses shows handcuffs to at least imply kink, there’s a ball gag and a fucking leash in Big Dragon, I haven’t seen it but Unforgotten Night has a lot of BDSM themes in it, Rain and Payu have a dom/sub dynamic going on, we have daddy kinks abound, I also haven’t seen this one but I know there is some belt bondage in War of Y. And even if it isn’t shown, kink and bondage specifically are often referenced in passing in shows with sex.

Also, there are very very very few Western shows I have seen that treat sex workers kindly, and Jojo Tichakorn is right there giving us sex workers as main characters multiple times in a row. Taiwan has great physical chemistry, the very few things I have seen from the Phillipines are so fucking queer, Japan even when they aren’t including sex at all have some extremely queer narratives, and when they are including sex? Holy fuck. South Korea is developing, but I have liked what I’ve seen so far, and it’s been fun seeing very rapid progressions in the level of physical intimacy characters are allowed to have, Thailand has been making a name for itself.

TL;DR: There is a very broad range of physical intimacy in Asian BLs from no sex to lots of sex, but the abundance of content means I am seeing more shows with gay sex in them in like…a month or two, than shows I have seen in the West with gay characters at all in like…the past year. (This is of course, subjective, don’t ask me for real numbers).

And, you know, in case this response wasn’t long enough, the amount of queer content, the types of stories being told, the rapid and continued development of BL is super interesting to observe in its own right. Sure, it may be driven by marketability and sales, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some truly important, realistic, vital, and beautiful pieces of queer media being created and shared with the world, a lot of which is much more accessible to audiences than Western media. I go heavy on the Thai shows in part because they are available for free on YouTube.

I also think the West seems to think that having gay marriage is the be all, end all of queer inclusivity, and that they do not realize that countries without gay marriage are creating some of the most realistic queer content out there right now. The West has a lot it can learn from Asian BLs, but in my opinion, we’ve got our heads too far up our asses to be following their lead.

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thelightsandtheroses · 24 days

Text

4. lovesick

Let's Get Lost Chapter 4 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Summary: You and Frankie aren’t together anymore but you’re in a good place. However, spending a week together for your mutual friends’ wedding on a luxury resort might challenge that slightly and realising you’re still in love with your ex is a sure-fire recipe for disaster … Tropes: it was always you, getting back with the ex, beach!Frankie (you know *that* photoshoot) miscommunication, only one bed, good parent Frankie Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, references to past drug addiction, references to alcohol, historic argument referenced, one passing reference to body insecurity, reader is unnamed with no physical desctipton but wears a necklace, Frankie and reader are parents, yearning? Word Count: 3350 Notes: Thank you for the lovely feedback so far - it's meant so much to me and I hope you enjoy this update. I am so excited to share this chapter with you! The chapter title is from Laurel's song lovesick.

Previous | Series | Next

The nearby town is awake and full of life this morning. Dappled light warms your skin as you walk through the main street with the rest of your group. You can smell the salt air of the sea in the distance, interspersed with enticing smells of food as you walk past a bustling restaurant.

You could stay here forever.

Clara’s ahead of you, glued to Santiago and giggling happily as she animatedly tells him about everything she wants to do today. It sounds hectic, involving the beach, the summer club, and a truly incredible amount of ice-cream.

Next to you, Frankie has a soft smile on his face as you catch him looking at your daughter. He seems more relaxed at last. There’s a lightness to him again, his smile reaches his eyes and there’s warmth in his face again. You missed that.

You missed him. You miss him.

Living a life agonising over what could have been is wrong. You made the right decision to leave Frankie at the time. You know that.

You and Clara deserved better than the life that he was promising you both at that moment. Clara was, she is, the priority and quite simply, you didn’t want your child to grow up around active addiction. That’s not a bad thing. Frankie feels the same, he’s told you.

Frankie’s changed now though. Your Frankie’s back and that’s a complication you didn’t expect.

You’re happy for him. He’s lost that haunted look in his eyes; the shadows are lighter on his face. It’s even good to see him in those ridiculous patterned holiday shirts, to notice his hair is just a little longer and the curls are peeking through again and look clean and healthy. He’s not been wearing his hat on holiday and there’s something about seeing his hair like this that makes you want to run your hands through it.

You cannot ruin Benny and Lia’s wedding though. You can suppress this.

You have to.

You’re so close to Frankie right now though.

It happens without thought. You’re not sure who initiates it , whether it’s you or Frankie, but somehow as your arms unconsciously move with the stride you take, your fingers have brushed his. Then they’re entwined. Gently, barely touching really, but linked all the same.

It feels electric.

It feels dangerous.

What are you playing at? Is this wrong? Is it cruel to Frankie? Or you? And what about your daughter? She needs consistency, she needs structure. Not the messed up will they, won’t they? you and her Frankie could develop into.

This feels natural though. It reminds of you of how things used to be. Hand in hand walking down the city streets after dinner, so incontrovertibly in love with him. Lia used to joke you were couple goals, until you weren’t.

The memories you’ve tried to avoid since your breakup, to suppress so that the heartbreak of losing him wasn’t so sharp, are flooding back. It’s too much, it’s too hard.

It’s too messy.

You need the wall back up. You need the pillow barrier to better fight these thoughts back, to fight these stupid tiny gestures.

It’s harmless though, right?

You’re holding hands, you’re hardly pressed against the wall in a sweaty mess. So it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Santi looks back and he meets your eyes. You watch him look down fleetingly and then back at you. No one else would notice it, you’re not even sure Frankie does. You do though. You see how his face changes, the disappointment, something unreadable there too. He shakes his head just slightly.

It’s enough for you to withdraw, to walk towards Clara, making a fuss of her instead.

This is meant to be a family holiday for her, it’s meant to be about Benny and Lia’s wedding.

You can’t do this.

As the steam from the shower dissipates, you notice your reflection looks just a little healthier; a little less weary. While your mind has been running away with you, you realise that the holiday itself might be helping.

You haven’t thought about checking your work emails in days, you haven’t thought about that project or any of it. You feel a little more like yourself again which probably makes sense because you’re at the halfway point now. It always feels like you just start to enjoy and relax in your breaks as the end looms closer.

You place your damp towel back on the radiator and tug at the waistband of your loose trousers one final time. You take a deep breath, applying the finishing touches to freshening up your appearance by liberally spritzing your perfume on your neck and wrists. The warmth of the cardamom scent immediately soothes you further.

You move to put your necklace back on. It’s one you wear every day, you’re not sure how it started but you feel naked without it now. You can’t seem to get the clasp on. The more you try, the more your fingers feel clunky and sweaty and panic rises in your stomach.

You need this necklace to be able to go to lunch, you irrationally tell yourself, adding more unwanted pressure, making your fingers even more slippery.

“Crap,” you exclaim as you almost drop the necklace down the sink.

“Everything okay?” You hear Frankie ask, his soft voice a balm on your panic.

“Uh, hey Frankie, can you help me for a second?”

“Sure, sure. Are you um, are you decent?”

“Yeah, yes, um …” It hadn’t occurred to you that it might have sounded like you weren’t and for a second you try and think about all the scenarios where it might have been something else.

Frankie opens the bathroom door and closes it behind him gently. “Everything okay? You look alright?”

“I can’t get my necklace and I almost dropped it down the sink and - my hands are all sweaty?”

“It’s no problem.”

You hand him the jewellery quickly and he smiles. “You wear this every day, don’t you? I think you were wearing it when we met.”

“I would have been.”

”It’s pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“Can you turn around?”

You oblige, shifting so that Frankie can easily place the necklace around your neck.

“There,” he says after a second.

“Thanks.”

You turn around so you’re facing him. He’s already ready for your late lunch and you can see he’s caught the sun just a little this morning. The guys had been zip-lining earlier after your breakfast in the town - Benny’s idea for a more inclusive, sober, stag event. All of you had already been diving earlier in the week - you love being in the water, it had been like coming home.

Right now, it feels like that moment when you first start a dive though. That momentary pause of doubt as you rely on the oxygen tank, as you sink down deeper into the water’s secrets. It’s exhilarating and terrifying.

You feel like that here with Frankie now.

You move closer to him, taking in the woody scent of his cologne, the slight hint of coconut sunscreen on his arms. He’s here, he’s real.

You’ve missed him.

Your lips are on his without thinking. It’s a move so familiar that it’s pure instinct. You loop your arms around his neck, bringing him ever closer to you so you can feel his torso pressing against you.

He responds, hands in your hair, moving you against the wall as he kisses you deeply.

The two of you don’t need words. You never did.

His hand skims your face, moves down your neck towards your waist as he traces the contours of your body, rests his hands on the edge of your shorts, breathes heavily onto your neck before returning to your lips.

You can feel how he wants you. You can feel the anticipation building in your stomach. You need him, you realises as you trace your fingers on the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning it and feeling the heat of his skin, noticing the freckles coming out with all the sunshine here. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his lips feel against yours and his hands and you need him to move away from your waistband, beyond your cotton underwear to a point of no return.

This kiss already obliterates that barrier though, right?

His hands finally start to move down -

“Mummy,” your daughter calls and you immediately pull away from Frankie.

He looks at you, breathing raggedly.

“I’ll uh - I’ll go and check on her.”

“Yeah, I just, I just need a minute,” Frankie says in a low voice, his cheeks flushed.

“Right, yes, of course.”

“Mummy? Daddy?”

“Just coming,” you say, rolling your eyes at Frankie’s smirk and the slight shake of his head there. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Not quite,” you whisper teasingly.

“Well,” Frankie says, leaning in close again.

“MUMMY!”

“Dammit, I can tell you she’s definitely spent too much with Will. Fuck me,,” Frankie mutters. You’re not sure entirely what he means by referring to Will at that moment, but you’re too busy trying to quickly regain your composure, to get to your daughter. It’s something you can store to muse on later.

Reality calls.

The sound of the whirlpool covers the dull tones of discussion from others in the spa area. You take a sip of your tea, leaning back and shutting your eyes.

“So this is nice,” Lia says, the smile evident in the tone of her voice. “I feel like I’m finally relaxing a bit.”

“Good, you should.” How are you doing with all the prep and you - you’re marrying Benny!”

“I know, it’s … I don’t even know what to say. I love him. That’s it - I love him and I want this. I am so ready for this.” Lia smiles happily, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “It’s going to be great.”

“I’m so happy for you both, ‘m happy something so good came out of the last year or so.”

“Are you and Frankie - are you two okay still?” There’s caution in her voice. The anxious part of you wonders if perhaps it’s because she’s afraid you’ll ruin her wedding, cause a scene like you did at Will’s wedding. Guilt pools in your stomach because you shouldn’t make your friend feel like this.

You’re desperate to tell her.

I kissed him. It’s on the tip of your tongue, you can feel the words forming.

You want to tell her.

It was a damn good kiss after all.

Something stops you though.

“We’re good,” you say finally. “We’re friends again and we both want the best for Clara. That’s all that matters, right?”

“Yeah. I’m actually really proud of you both. This is pretty damn mature. I’m glad you’re not, I don’t know, just messing each other around. I know it was hard, I know the breakup and everything that happened - you’ve been really strong and I am proud of you.”

On any other day, her words would fill you with pride. Today though, guilt spreads through your body instead, searing heat of anxiety with it.

“So, ”

Your name is called as the massage therapist walks into the spa.

“Later,” you say to Lia apologetically before following the stranger out of the main spa, grateful for her interruption.

Massages are strange. They’re supposed to be relaxing but you find it hard to turn off your brain, the hints of anxiety about the parts of your body you’re less than comfortable with, whether or not you’re being judged and the underlying worry of what if you fall asleep? What if you snore?

This is a surprisingly relaxing experience though - your masseuse has checked her pressure, ensured you’re comfortable and you’re starting to relax a little, to lose a little of that tension you were holding. Soft piano music plays and you shut your eyes, trying to turn off your thoughts a little.

“So are you the bride? It’s a big wedding party, isn’t it?”

“No, my friend Lia is. I’m one of the bridesmaids.”

“That’s nice.”

“They met because of me though. Well, me and my ex.” You have no idea why you’re saying this but surely there’s a privacy code, right? You can’t tell Lia, or Sophia, or anyone. So why not a stranger?

“That’s nice.”

“It was … wasn’t the best scenario.”

“Oh.” The masseuse pays attention to a knot in your neck, releasing some of the waves of tension you’ve felt recently. Maybe that’s what makes you continue.

“We had an awful break up. At our friend’s wedding, who is in fact the brother of the groom. I mean awful too and public.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yep, talk about drama. And I think - no, no, I definitely did. I just kissed my ex today, like a proper in the movies, perfect cinematic kiss. That’s one thing, but I think I might still be in love with him. I’m going to ruin Lia’s wedding too, aren’t I?”

The masseuse pauses, you feel her lift her hands above your body.

“I’m going to give you a free face mask with this. I think - I think you need it.”

Eighteen Months Ago - Will’s Wedding, Florida You’ve been pretending all evening. You have become so skilled at pretending, you think you could give Meryl Streep a run for her money. It’s exhausting though. You’re exhausted. Next to you, Sophia is humming as she opens her lip gloss and tops up her makeup. She’s changed into a different dress for the evening; less dramatic and easier to dance in. She looks beautiful, there’s a warm smile on her face, her complexion is glowing and she looks serene. Part of you hates her for that. “You look great,” Sophia says as she catches you frowning at your own reflection. “I’m so glad you and Frankie are here. the way Will is with him and Santi, they’re as much his brothers as Benny. And after Tom -” “Yeah.” “It was nice that Molly came, right? I think Tom would have liked that.” “Definitely,” you say, even though from how Frankie used to talk about the divorce with Tom and Molly you are not so sure Tom is looking down grinning right now. Tom didn’t make it back though and Frankie barely did. You still don’t know much about what happened, Sophia doesn’t seem to either. The men don’t talk about it at all. You’ve lost your Frankie though. He didn’t need to die to not come back. It just means that no one knows you’re in mourning. You keep hanging on, you keep hoping. You’re sure there’s something you could do better to help get him back. “How’s Clara doing?” Sophia asks. “Great.” She hasn’t slept in weeks, maybe months. Sleep itself is a foreign concept now and no matter what you read, no matter what you try, your daughter just cannot sleep through a night. “And you and Frankie? Are you guys next - should I, uh, aim the bouquet towards you?” You laugh lightly, swallow the bitter taste in your throat and the words you can’t say. “Sure. Shall we head out?” You’re pretty sure Frankie is using again.

Now

You pull yourself out of the memories, not wanting to go any further into that night.

You remember the aftermath all too well though. The DJ was playing Murder on the Dancefloor and the irony of it still makes you almost laugh. Your relationship died on that dance floor to a fitting song.

Flashes come back to you against your will as you try and focus on the spa, on the now.

“I don’t think we can do this anymore. I love you, Frankie. God, I love you, but we can’t.” Frankie’s look of betrayal filtering through the residual high. The heaviness that here at Will’s wedding you’ve suddenly voiced the thoughts that have consumed you for weeks. Liquid courage and the image of Sophia’s face, so full of a hope you can’t imagine anymore, guided you to this moment. “Here, really? You’re just giving up on me?” “Tell me you’re sober, Frankie, swear it.” “Don’t do this here.” “We can’t do this anymore. We can’t. It’s not - I’m done, I can’t, Frankie, I can’t.” Your voice is panicked, rising. Echoed shouts, the feel of stares, so many stares. Music going quiet. Santi and Benny guiding you both away from everybody else. Tears. Yours. His. An ending. It’s over. You can’t come back from this.

You blink back tears. It was a bad break up and it would have been so much easier if you’d ever hated Frankie, if he’d ever hated you. Breaking up because you love someone but it’s not enough is a pain you hope your daughter never has to experience.

He’s different now though.

You’re different.

It would be different, wouldn’t it?

Clara’s curled up, fast asleep in her bed. Soft snores sound as you place your book on the bedside table.

“Hey,” Frankie says softly as he shuts the bathroom door carefully. “She looks exhausted.”

“It’s all that time in the playgroup and sun,” you reply affectionately.

“Do you think she’s having a good holiday?”

“Yeah, of course. I hope so.”

“Me too. It’s good to see her happy like this. I’m glad we did this. For her.”

“Same. She’s going to look adorable at their wedding, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe it’s only a couple of days away and then we’re -”

“I know.” In two days, Lia and Benny get married. You won’t wreck it, you won’t.

You look at the bed, the pillow barrier Frankie has automatically built. Neither of you have spoken about the kiss before lunch. When you returned from the spa and got ready for dinner, you had spoken about Clara and your books and anything but the kiss.

The pillows feel wrong though. You remember the start of the week, how it felt secure to have the pillows between, mature even. You are grown ups, friends and exes and the pillows protected that. However, the barrier is a merely a representation of the line you obliterated earlier. It can’t work anymore.

You’re not just co-parents.

You don’t know if Frankie feels the same though, if too much has happened now for the two of you to forge something new.

The pillows are a weight though. You look at Frankie and hesitantly move one of the pillows away from the barrier.

He smiles, almost imperceptibly and then he does the same from his side of the bed.

With the lights out, there are still so many words unsaid, so many conversations the two of you need to have.

You turn in the bed, feeling the warmth radiating from Frankie’s back. You hear him shift, the rush of air as he turns around and he’s facing you.

“Hi,” he whispers, reaching a hand to touch your face.

“Hi,” you reply.

Perhaps that’s the only word you need right now. The two of you are starting all over again.

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