#I just haven’t had a chance to look at it

[jiminrings]

mature

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.

alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

[ push n pull fic YIPPPEEEEE, fluff, angst, So Much Yearning, friends to lovers trope, jealousy, dunking on a stewpid jk (as one does), arguments that kinda hit home, redemption!! ]

notes: WE R SO BACK!!!! thank u for waiting 🫂🤍

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

You will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want to be loved.

In your defense (much to Jungkook’s offence), you want to be loved as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. He’s not pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but rather pathetic in the light that you want the entirety of him (stubbornness and occasional dimness included) to rub off on you.

You want to be loved pathetically in the same way that Jungkook never computes his expenses when it comes to self-indulgence yet always calculates when it comes to actual requirements. You want to be loved as wholly by the guy who can get by one DIY dorm dinner at a time by asking for scraps from the whole floor with a grin and his hands cupped in begging.

Jungkook’s one of your friends, if not the best you’ve ever had, and it’s a miracle that you haven’t jumped at each and every available chance to confess your growing feelings for him.

You bit your tongue that one time he bought you "one of those silly blind boxes you like" on a whim from a bookstore he only went inside to in the first place because he was dying outside in the heat, only to open it for you with your eyes closed and earn you an extra rare figure.

You had to physically restrain yourself (read: clasp your hands together in front of you) when Jungkook made you swap your counterfeit, barely-holding-on kitten heels for his trustworthy slides on the way home because your research presentation prior had you pacing nervously.

Every time that he gives you your tax of whatever he ordered (which always ends up being the best variant that your friend group could possibly order for a meal or a sweet treat), you have to etch into your head clearly, with ballpoint pen, that you will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want him to love you.

Every time that he gives you a one-on-one friend outing, just as he does with everyone else from your circle of ten people and counting (you lost count because you figure that all of you are about to outgrow the long table in the library that nobody else could fill), you convince yourself to never tell him how much you want it to be just you.

You figure that you’ll tell Jungkook that you do hold a candle for him, despite not detailing the extent, in this lifetime— maybe even the next time you get a moment alone with him, but you figure you won’t do it now; now, when he’s berating you for just a tiny sacrifice you made that’s minuscule for everything he does for you and everyone else.

“You’re impossible!” he huffs, his annoyance for you being loud enough to stop his faux display of studying and gather attention from everyone else in the library who actually is. Jungkook holds up his phone for you to read, brows scrunched at your look of amusement. “Jimin told me you were lactose intolerant!”

You can’t figure how and why Jungkook and Jimin’s conversation even flitted towards you when you recall clearly that the lactose-filled meal in question was from two weeks ago. You don’t question it because you already know that even giving it a second thought would already be too pompous of you, and you don’t question either why Jungkook looks too devastated at the realization.

“I just tolerated it,” you snort, burying your nose back into your notes, missing the flash of regret in Jungkook’s features.

He doesn’t know whether he’d feel more sorry over the fact that he didn’t know you were lactose intolerant, or that you didn’t speak up at all to preserve his excitement over eating at the restaurant he wanted to try out.

“But why would you?” he sulks, completely foregoing the textbook he has opened on the same page for the last hour.

You know exactly why you did, but you’d rather not tell Jungkook now. 

You’ll tell him some other time, that much you’re sure of, but not now — not now when he’s too devastated over your tummy issues, and not now when he’s just one revelation away from chewing you out over something he has to learn from someone else.

“Your broke ass bought it so I had to,” you murmur, rolling your eyes as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Foul,” Jungkook immediately chuckles, shaking his head at your retort even if he knows you’re just kidding around (he knows you won’t hurt him like that that), finally opening his laptop.

Jungkook, your friend, finally types on his laptop, yet it’s not for the contribution that he badly needs to put in for a group project.

Instead, he opens up the Google Doc and writes in a bullet point underneath your name, the words do not give cheese acquainted with three exclamation points — along with your name, is the names of your mutual friends and Jungkook’s observations that would come in handy for an outing, a gift, or both.

Jungkook’s that good of a friend, and that’s why you’ll never tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him.

( ♡ ) 

Getting gifts for someone who has a credit card and has no inhibitions when it comes to buying whatever they want is a difficult task.

Getting Jungkook for Secret Santa this year is even harder than the last, and that was when Jin snuck five strips of his name and left more than five of you (you don’t even know how that happened) without gifts, all while he was laughing to himself after he successfully gaslit everyone into thinking that they were all drunk and made the mistake themselves.

You don’t know what to give Jungkook that he doesn’t already have. He doesn’t have a girlfriend the last time you checked and while you can’t exactly wrap yourself in ugly, recycled kraft paper (as opposed to Jimin’s dumb, all-knowing-about-your-hidden-feelings suggestion), you’d rather not drive Jungkook away, even if you don’t know either how to drive him in.

You don’t have the slightest clue to what his ‘surprise me ;)’ scribble underneath his name means and it makes you feel guilty, far more than he ever could have after Jimin’s revelation of your dietary restrictions. 

It’s not the dilemma of who would sit next to who in the large albeit crowded dining table in the cabin that you rented out, nor is it the cooking and wrapping duties that each of you are tasked with that stresses you out this holiday season.

You wish so badly that the largest champagne problem you have at the moment was wondering if your Christmas gift for your nitpicky mom and nonchalant dad back at home arrived in time. You pray that your biggest hurdle is either convincing Namjoon that his room is just cold and not haunted, or breaking off a fight between Eunwoo and Soomin because they keep fighting over whose overpriced film camera will be used for the picture by the tree, or even talking Mingyu down from smacking Jin in his sleep.

The largest champagne problem that you have, even if it’s actually between life and living said life in peace without minding your inevitable heartbreak, is worrying about Jungkook’s gift.

You hold your breath as soon as Hoseok gathers everyone into the living room, your nerves probably getting the best of you because you hear Jungkook hollering to whoever’s closest to the thermostat to adjust it because your teeth kept chattering.

You have nothing to be nervous about, you convince yourself as Jungkook steps up into the middle and awaits with wide arms, your best friend being another victim of assuming that the comically large wrapped present is his (it’s not).

Jungkook doesn’t have any expectations for you to meet, you convince yourself as he becomes even more hyper when he learns that it’s you, so much so that he takes a lap around the backyard with his hands clapping furiously.

You can’t love Jungkook any more than you do now, you realize as you see Jungkook throw his head back in glee when he opens up your gift.

It’s only a Himalayan salt lamp. It’s only a lamp that you didn’t buy for so much. It’s only a thing that Jungkook said to you in passing one time, yet he’s beyond grateful — enough for him to carry you in his arms and take another lap around the backyard.

“God, you love me soooo bad,” he lulls, teasing you mercilessly as he unceremoniously drops you so he could adore the lamp up close. “I always wanted to lick one!”

“You’re so stupid,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at his excitement over something so simple; something so insignificant in the world of thoughtful, expensive gifts.

You affectionately think that Jungkook’s stupid, yet you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“I didn’t hear a no,” Jungkook hums with his tongue out, eyes wide and flickering between you and the lamp. “Should I do it? Should I? I’m doing-…!”

You put a spoonful of cake into his mouth instead, the whine that escapes his throat still sounding like gratefulness to your ears.

Tonight’s not the night wherein you tell Jungkook how badly you want to be loved by him — not when he’s so preoccupied with his new salt lamp that he keeps daring people to take a lick of, not when he’s the one who’s being convinced that there’s a ghost in Namjoon's room and being bullied into sleeping in.

Not when Jungkook’s being the perfect, lovable friend that he is during the holidays and every other day.

( ♡ ) 

You’re well-aware that Jungkook’s a catch.

You know that he’s a catch and he’ll never live it down, and neither can you.

You’re very painfully aware that Jungkook’s a catch because you’re reminded of it every single day whenever you’re with your friends. You know that atleast two of them were integrated into the group in the first place because they liked Jungkook, and that doesn’t really bother you (more than it should, atleast) anymore. 

Sora’s crush formed out of boredom on Jungkook disappeared as soon as she got a boyfriend, but you understand why her gaze lingered on him in the first place.

Eunji’s crush on Jungkook already dissipated the moment she learned about his GPA, but you get why she had been attracted to his charm anyway.

You know that he’s a catch and that he’s not solely yours either, and the latter makes you humble.

“There’s flowers on your desk again,” you point out, the arrangement irking you for more reasons than one. “Why do you have to be so popular and handsome.. and lovable,” you mumble, the tail end of your mini rant barely being heard by Jungkook because he's too busy admiring his gift.

“What’s that now?” Jin piped up, eyebrows furrowed upon picking up your angry muttering. He's beyond confused, maybe just as much as you are, when you just snarl at him for his unintentional use of supersonic hearing.

“And why do I have to sit next to you even if I have allergies,” you redirect your attention to Jungkook who has to sweep the flowers to a beaten-up paper bag for safekeeping, the item in his backpack being the most used object for all of the admiration towards him.

“Because you’re the best-est friend ever,” he rolls his eyes, the faux pout on his lips surprisingly softening you instead of the opposite. “And maybe I’m the worst-est one to keep putting you through this.”

“You sound so stupid,” you reply automatically, crossing your arms and keeping them there. “But you’re right,” you exhale through your nose, conceding your defeat over willingly letting him put you through this, carrying the blame by yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t only act like this with you anyway. There’s no special treatment, there’s no false hopes being promised — it’s just you genuinely happening to fall for him.

“Come on, just tolerate it! Pinch your nose or something!”

“Why should I? Find another seatmate,” you sulk, making a point to angle your back away from him and towards Jin who’s at your right, doing his best at holding in a laugh over how ridiculous the both of you look.

“Obviously you’re the one with the latest phone so you have to take pictures of me with the flowers!” Jungkook whines, punctuating his sentence with a hand on his hip. He’s sulking because you’re sulking, and you’ve never hated him more at the moment. “Why else would I force you to sit with me?”

Jungkook’s stupid, and so are you, so you’d rather not tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him today.

( ♡ ) 

In all fairness, you thought you would lose nothing.

You thought you would lose nothing because in the first place, you barely expected anything out of Jungkook. Liking him didn’t mean that you were indebted to him, and liking you back isn’t something that he owed to you either.

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to fall on his knees and say something stupid to hint at his mutual love for you (although you did think about it a couple of times), but you atleast expected a little bit of respect from him to try and see the strength it took you to even confess.

You planned it perfectly, even taking a page off his book and making a whole word document for it wherein you spent days typing whatever crossed your mind throughout the day and erasing what seemed the most impossible throughout the night. 

In your word document, you and Jungkook would be out in the snow, skating in an outdoor rink even if neither of you know how to. You figure that you won’t attempt to drag (read: hobble with) him to the middle of the ice because in case he doesn’t like you back, the waddle back to the exit wouldn’t be as awkward; if Jungkook does like you back, you’ll still be hobbling to the exit, albeit happily.

In your word document, there’s a spine of a script that you would say when the day comes. You’ll skim along the lines of how you’ve never been so enamored with someone in your entire life (with the internal note that you’ll dial it back a bit if his expression turns sour), of how bright he makes your days for you, and how he doesn’t have to be obligated to like you back.

In your word document, you’re set. You’ve planned a foolproof blueprint of what would turn out, whether or not Jungkook is set on loving you the way you desperately want to be —

Except now, Jungkook completely undoes everything you’ve ever worked for.

Now, he looks at you with a glint in his eye that looks more apologetic than it is endearing. You don’t even know what led to your heartbreak exactly because one minute, you were just studying, and by the next, Jungkook’s already letting you down even if you hadn’t had the chance to rise.

You swear on your life that you weren’t giving any signals at all that you were actually about to confess. You were only silent, refusing to talk to him because you were too stressed over your task and that you were scared you would burst into tears if you tried mouthing the formula out loud, yet Jungkook mistakes it for your love.

Whatever you do on a daily basis, whatever you do based on your nature, Jungkook mistakes it for a confession that he wasn’t even supposed to hear until the end of the week.

He wasn’t wrong about the fact that you love him — what he’s wrong about is his assumption that your silence around him when it’s just the two of you, right now while you lose your mind over an assignment as you’re dressed in last week’s sweater and last semester’s horror, is your confession.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook winces, gently patting you on the shoulder as you’re yet to digest his rejection. “But I just don’t think we’ll work out.”

( ♡ ) 

You theorized that getting over Jungkook would be fairly easy on the chance that he rejects you after your confession.

You figure that Jungkook himself as a concept would be drastically difficult to move on from because he was just so lovable. He doesn’t know how to read a room and it’s one of his better quirks when you’re worrying over nothing. He doesn’t know much about knowing when to let up, and it comes in clutch when he’s pushing you to wholeheartedly do an assignment even if you’re already burnt out from crying.

Jungkook, as a concept, is indestructible. He’s the everyday variant of the goodness that some frat guys possess occasionally. He’s the realistic, attainable version of a main lead in a manhwa that’s only perfect 1/4 into the plot. 

He’s the manifestation of every good deed a stranger has done for you, except he’s someone you know with your heart and not just someone you could sketch from memory. 

With that, you also figured that moving on from Jungkook can’t be that hard because he was too out of reach despite being in the same friend group as you. Surely, it wouldn’t be so catastrophically hard to move on from a guy who just gasps for air every five minutes when he’s in charge of cooking in the BBQ hangout (instead of using the exhaust like a normal person), or from a guy who thinks citing references for a paper is only a suggestion.

The funny thing about it all is that you never actually confessed to Jungkook.

Actually (and contrary to the assumptions of the other friends you have from your circle), you’ve never said it to his face that you do have a crush on him. You’re ultimately known to be the friendliest person to ever walk the campus, and while not the most confrontational, they atleast expected for you to confess to Jungkook in your own way.

What actually happened was that Jungkook read through you — he does happen to be right about your feelings for him! He’s the second friendliest person right beneath you, and so the way he rejected you should never sting this much.

Jungkook thought it out meticulously. He read into the way you spent extra attention listening to him with your eyes practically gleaming. He read into the way you’d lag back behind him and hold him by his wrist whenever you were all crossing the street. Hell, he even read into the way you would take a shot at opening the extremely tight water bottle from the vending machine before everyone else.

The funny, tragic thing about it is that whilst Jungkook wasn’t wrong about pinpointing your feelings for him — you never confessed.

Jeon Jungkook, the second, ultimate friendliest man that your university has ever known, rejected you without even hearing the actual words from you.

He’s turned his back on you even before you could reach him, and the realization sinks in you unsettlingly. You never expected for him to like you back because it would be unfair of you, and you knew that; what just happened to hurt you most was that Jungkook didn’t even think twice.

He hadn’t given you the chance to pour your heart out at the very least.

He hadn’t even given you the space to breathe right after the rejection, because he skips and puts a smile on before winking, telling you that he’ll never speak of it again because you must probably be embarrassed.

The funniest thing about it all is that you aren’t embarrassed — you’re actually devastated about it.

It’s an odd event for Jungkook to feel lonely because with such a big friend group, he never thought he’d feel a little empty despite literally rubbing elbows in a circular table. He never thought he’d come to be a little annoyed at Jimin and his routine, playful, borderline offensive banter he’d always have with you at the top of the morning, and he never thought he’d even be more annoyed over the absence of it.

There’s one less laugh in the circle. One less bag strewn underneath the table, one less coffee order written on the notes app, and one less person to look for when hanging out.

You’re missing from the friend group, and oddly enough, Jungkook seems to be the most devastated about it.

“Why is Y/N not here?” he asks in the middle of Jin retelling his drunken fishing story, grabbing the attention of everyone in the table and maybe just about everyone else’s in the common area with the way his voice is frantic. “And why is she there with the new kid instead?”

Everyone flits through separate conversations after Jungkook’s interruption, some even wincing to themselves because although they know about your admiration for the guy and not your confession-that-wasn’t-one, they figure that nothing good could come out of Jungkook sucker-punching the new kid in his head.

“I don’t know, man. Buddy system, maybe?” Jin shrugs, stealing his food because it was obvious that Jungkook’s attention is everywhere but himself and the table.

Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms tightly to the point that even he feels a little suffocated. His entire face is crumpled with hurt, eyebrows furrowed out of frustration when you still aren’t looking at him; when you’re still not looking at him with confusion in your eyes, silently telling him off for glaring.

“Buddy system? We’re in uni. Who the fuck would bully that guy?”

“By the looks of it, probably you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffs, refusing to unclench his fists on his thighs.

“Well, what’s it to you that Y/N’s hanging out with someone new? What are you so heated for?” Jin elaborates, eyes flitting to you again.

Jungkook could only glare at you.

“What are you so nosy for?” he asks defensively, leaning back on his chair in a faux display of relaxation when all he wants to do is to remove the stupid smile on the guy’s face as he watches you talk.

Unlike Jungkook, Yoongi’s not stupid at all — in fact, he’s been vigilantly aware of Jungkook’s glare on the side of his face ever since you sat in front of him.

Yoongi’s not stupid, so he angles himself in a way that Jungkook gets to see him more. He doesn’t know the guy personally, but he does know of him and his “charm” that seems to make everyone go nuts for him. 

If looks could kill, then Yoongi would’ve already had mourners at his feet, but if provocation could posion, then Jungkook would already be frothing at the mouth.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t even know about your admiration nor your foiled confession to Jungkook. The latter hasn’t even done anything personally to him. 

All he knows is that you’re in a big friend group and that you chose to sit with him, your friend whom you share a couple of advanced classes with but not a friend-friend like Jungkook is, and that you’re very easy on the eyes and admirable yourself if he thinks about it (he doesn’t need much time to ponder over it) — and, that he doesn’t really like being glared at.

“No really, I insist!” he laughs, pulling out his handwritten reviewer from a backpack with a grin. “I don’t know anybody else who likes making reviewers anymore by hand, so really, you’re just perfect to get them.”

“But you worked so hard on them,” you gasp, eyes already widening in both surprise and awe at the thick stack of papers in front of you. Yoongi’s handwriting and formatting are perfect; there’s no unnecessary calligraphy, the vividness of the highlighter is just right, and there’s even sticky notes at the bottom for additional details and references you could cross-check. “I.. I don’t want you to feel that I’m taking advantage-…”

“But I offered! You didn’t ask for reviewers from me shamelessly like every other opportunist does,” Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back as he slides the papers closer to you. “I’d be a really shitty senior not to give you any help. If anything, I think you deserve even better than-…”

Jungkook can’t resist.

Jungkook can’t take any more of watching you and Yoongi push and pull over whatever topic he can’t hear nor force Jin to eavesdrop on. He can’t take another second of seeing you be so happy talking to a guy that he doesn’t know, so much so that he comes up to you without a second thought.

“Hey,” he greets, his body only turned to you, completely ignoring Yoongi and blocking him off from your sight. “You didn’t order any coffee.”

You angle your body slightly to excuse yourself, except Jungkook conveniently happens to mirror your every move, confusing you even more. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling like it,” you trail, looking up at him in confusion while Yoongi could see right through him.

“Really?” Jungkook replies, the smile on his face being far from amused, eyes narrowed as he tries to catch up with the own annoyance that he harbors. “Because I’m seeing two coffees right now, and one’s in front of you, so…” he trails, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly.

Jungkook’s jaw is still clenched, along with his fists by his sides. He’s standing tall between you and Yoongi with his shoulders squared and his face steeled, the immovable forces that are him and the unnamed pit in his stomach starting to garner attention.

Namjoon has his phone out. 

Hoseok only has one cheek remaining on the seat because he’s ready to stand up and collect bets. 

You’re still sitting, mostly confused, when you realize the attention that’s starting to build towards the three of you.

“Yes, Jungkook. Great observation,” you snicker, the discreet roll of your eyes making him take offense.

“Oh okay, I see. So you were lying by saying that you weren’t feeling it, and I don’t get the hold-up of you-…”

“What did you come here for now, Jungkook?” you angrily whisper, keeping your head down as you retain your gaze on him and lightly tap at the table to indicate to Yoongi for the both of you to move. “It’s a little far-fetched for you to come all over here to pick a fight about coffee.”

Jungkook huffs, turning his head back to Yoongi behind him because he most definitely saw your signal. The lazy, amused gaze of Yoongi is what sets him off even further, the anger in his eyes unmistakable, except you recognize it for only what it is and not jealousy, because Jungkook doesn’t see you like that.

Or atleast that’s what the both of you assume.

Jungkook, your best friend, scoffs loudly.

“You sound so defensive right now.”

( ♡ ) 

You don’t respond much to Jungkook’s calls. 

As a matter of fact, you don’t respond much to Jungkook at all.

You don’t show up whenever he’s present, meaning that you’re only magically available whenever there’s half of your friend group at the most because if there’s more, then the search for the missing members would ensue, then you’d end up squished in a long table next to Jungkook again.

It’s very much like him to form grudges, yet he can’t even tell if he’s capable of having one towards you. Jungkook, with all his chest and afflictions, wants so badly to hate you because you’ve been blowing him off ever since he literally and physically came between you and Yoongi.

He apologized to you for that (and not to Yoongi because he didn’t really matter to him at all), and he doesn’t know the answer for it yet because his messages still remain unread. He’s enlisted the help of your mutual friends on various occasions by trying to get them to give all his little treats for you, yet you refuse them as soon as you catch wind that it’s from Jungkook.

He even tried studying for real in the library in hopes that reverse psychology (he thinks that’s what it’s called) would work and that thinking he doesn’t want you to come would make you do the opposite, yet it still doesn’t work. Jungkook’s already mad that he studied for nothing (he’s more interested in getting you to notice him than to actually learn), but he becomes even more heated to realize that your anger for him is just directed at him alone.

You still talk to your best friends, with the exception of him, and Jungkook has never been more envious of people who are apparently of the same status as him.

Jungkook wants you to drag him like you drag Sora to the nail salon and have you whisper at his ear to tell the nail tech not to cut your cuticles because you’ve been afraid of getting them done since that 1/34th part of a medical drama episode you watched on your phone.

Jungkook wants you to complain to him like you complain to Namjoon when you’re frustrated with a professor whom you’re convinced is only critical to you and no one else, later making him promise not to tell anyone else from your friend group because they like said professor.

Jungkook wants you to run to him as you always did, just because you feel like it. He wants to sit in silence with you again and put his hand on your knee when you’re in the verge of tears just looking at your schedule for the week.

He wants to stand guard again outside the bathroom door of the expensive coffee shop because it’s either the lock is broken or because Namjoon's managed to instill in you the existence of ghosts in cold spots.

He wants to be the Jungkook like you’ve always known, again, because it seems like you’ve forgotten him completely. You have the Yoongi now, it seems like — the smarter, more composed, and more charismatic variant of him that he wants to get rid of because Jungkook never predicted the existence of him.

Even more, Jungkook didn’t even entertain the concept of him being replaced because it was always the two of you together, even in a sea of friends. 

He’s your best friend, your confidant even, but nothing more — all Jungkook feels is that he’s even less than the status the both of you are assigned to be. 

He’s angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time because he thought he had almost lost you since he rejected your confession. You were fine; you were as fine as you could be for someone rejected when it comes to yearning to be his, and yet the moment you let Yoongi in, Jungkook feels as if you threw everything the both of you had just for him.

“Just so you know, student-teacher relationships are illegal,” he corners you one morning in your dorm, two godforsaken weeks after chasing you around the campus yet turning up empty.

“What the fuck are you on about?” you immediately scrunch your nose at him, the accusation he throws at you being too farfetched to the point that you don’t even think of shutting the door at him, ignoring Eunji’s betrayal for you by pretending to come over.

“What am I on about?” Jungkook exasperates, the scoff that leaves him making you feel small in front of him. “You’re literally the one who’s getting chummy with fucking Yoongi of all people!"

"Yoongi's a teaching assistant! He's our senior! Do you not know that?"

"Do I look like I'm interested in any other people outside of our circle?" he retorts, lips turned up in a snarl. Jungkook provokes you with a sarcastic glare, the look on his face enough to make you throw your head back in irritation.

"Come on, even Jin and Jimin are friends with Yoongi and-..."

"This is not about them!" 

"But you just-..." you stop as soon Jungkook interrupts you, losing your gaze on him for a single second to close your door and when you look back, you find that he’s already comfortable being vindictive on your bed, his arms crossed and his back straight.

"Also, teacher and teaching assistant both have the word teach so it's literally still illegal," he narrows his eyes sarcastically, the tone to his voice unclear despite his words suggesting otherwise. "You look so stupid right now."

"Jungkook can you stop?!" you burst, your temples stinging at the back and forth that Jungkook’s thrown the both of you in. “What the hell is going on with you?"

Jungkook had sworn to himself up and down that he has so much stuff to pick with you. He knows he has so much baggage to unpack and how much shit he has to bring up, even if it’s only been two weeks with you. He’s partly relieved that you’re in front of him and you still haven’t fled, yet a large part of him is beyond frustrated with you because you don’t even look like as if your time apart has taken a toll on you.

Between the two of you, it’s only Jungkook who looks like his distraught has manned him completely beyond surrender. Even coming to see you by hatching a plan with a hesitant friend is something he considers an act beyond surrender — whatever the space is between surrender and demand is where Jungkook lies with you.

"No, what's going on with you!” he argues, standing to his feet to come face-to-face with you. “You can't just spin this around when I've done nothing but be a good friend to you!"

"You think I'm not being a good friend to you just because I don't spend every single minute attached to you? I can still hang out outside of our friend group without being-..."

"This is not about our friend group!" Jungkook emphasizes once again, the tell-tale sting of tears behind his eyes coming up because he feels as if you can’t hear him no matter how much he repeats himself. ”This is about us and how you abandoned me ever since I rejected you!"

"I didn't abandon you, Jungkook!" you spit, pushing at his chest lightly with your finger to get him to back up from your face yet he refuses to. He’s still insistent at staring you down with his jaw clenched, eyes wide and unblinking because he knows that if he moves even just a millimeter askew, he’d cry. “You didn't even give me the chance to confess to you! You rejected me without even hearing me out. Do you think I would still be able to talk to you, face to face like how you want so badly, as if nothing happened?"

"The answer would've been the same even if you confessed,” he grits with his chest heavy, not at the way he keeps holding his breath in order not to break down in front of you, but because you look at him with so much disdain that it makes him want to puke.

"Do you not think I know that?" you laugh humorlessly, gnawing on your bottom lip as you don’t drop his gaze. “Do you think I didn't prepare for that possibility? I knew what could've happened if I confessed and I'd still be okay with it, Jungkook!" you raise your voice, throat already giving out at the slightest pressure because you know you lost the fight ever since you let him in. ”What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.”

It’s evil, really, with the way no amount of self-pity could ever pull you from the grave you’ve dug up. You went for Jungkook, carrying all grief you knew you were bound to feel, and yet you still feel unprepared. You still feel unworthy even moping for someone like Jungkook because not even his rejection, nor anyone else’s acceptance of your admiration by some sort of miracle, is enough to make you feel like you’d be missed.

Your two weeks without Jungkook is your rehearsal for the two months, then two years, then two forevers eventually without him by your side. You had still been able to live by yourself and with your friends, excluding him, and you thought you were fine because it feels as if nothing had changed.

You thought you were fine until Jungkook gets in your face to tell you that it’s not, and all over again, you’re reminded of how desperately you want to be loved by him to the point that you’d rather drown in your own pity to try and preserve whatever’s left of you.

"I told you the answer would-..."

"Shut up!" you cry, steeling your nerves when you realize that Jungkook’s angrily crying in front of you, wiping at his eyes hastily. ”For the love of god, shut up!"

Jungkook stays quiet, not because you told him to, but because nothing good comes to mind when he realizes that you’re crying because of him.

"See? You don't even get where I'm coming from because you're not even giving me the chance to explain myself without making it all about you,” you sob, finally pushing him away, to which he lets you. "That's the problem with you, Jungkook. You're too self-involved."

"Not true," Jungkook whispers, shaking his head earnestly even if he feels the stupidest he has ever did in his life in front of you.

He follows your steps out of routine even if his brain had convinced his system that he hates you just seconds ago, arms instinctively trying to crowd you when you almost trip on the flooring on your way to the coat rack.

"Since you keep insisting that I abandoned you," you chuckle dryly before grabbing your jacket, turning your back on Jungkook and on your own space, which had just been the default hangout place of the both of you for the longest time, in pursuit of your own quiet without him. "Let me follow through."

Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you how desperately he wants you to want him again, to love him as you already did, and neither do you.

( ♡ ) 

The perks of having a big friend group of that the absence of several members wouldn’t make that much of a difference when it comes to hanging out. It would still sustain itself without a few extra voices joining in on the chatter watching movies and the bullying when it comes to a forgotten birthday greeting here and there.

The downside of being in one, is that said big friend group doesn’t matter at all to Jungkook when you’re not in it.

The lengths that your friend (read: a word that Jungkook’s come to abhor) has went through since your fight at your dorm are basically incomprehensible because he’s fully involved himself.

He’s pining after you pathetically, just like how you had always dreamed of, yet seeing him take turn after turn just trying to gain your forgiveness for something you’ve always pitied yourself for makes you feel guilty.

In Jungkook’s defense, he wants to be forgiven and loved (again) as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Not only is e pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but also pathetic in the light that he wants the entirety of you (stubbornness and occasional sharpness included) to rub off on him.

“I know I’m stupid. I-I.. I know that I was unfair for not even letting you confess your feelings because I felt like dying when you started to ignore me,” he mumbles to your bedsheets, his legs crossed on the ground and his head muffled by the fabric because he doesn’t even want to sit next to you in fear of you revoking his chance to apologize in person, again, as if that’s not what he had been doing the past weeks. “Y/N, you don’t deserve someone as stupid as me and I hate it so, so bad.”

The sound of Jungkook apologizing to you has already been repeated enough to the point you’ve learned when to tune him out, but with the way his heart precedes his tone this time, you stop folding your clothes in favor of Jungkook who’s just two seconds away from passing out on your bed by fabric conditioner-bathed quilt-induced suffocation, to which he couldn’t pass up on because it was your scent and he missed hugging you.

“I can’t catch up with you on anything that you’re talking about with Yoongi. The only times I open a book are when I want to look at you but I don’t want you to see me. I can’t— I can barely even talk to you without feeling like I’m beneath you,” he admits lowly, the truth of his rejection finally springing up a little too much, and almost a little too late. “I thought, stupidly, that we wouldn’t work because you deserve someone better.”

“I don’t need you to catch up with me, Jungkook,” you murmur, lightly slapping his cheeks because he looks sleepy from all the sniffing he’s done on your quilt, but really, his eyes are only narrowed into slits because he feels like he’s about to cry. Again.

“But I need to, b-because when we run out of things to talk about that you’re willingly to dumb down to my level, what else could we catch up on?” 

“You’re not stupid. I just say-…”

“No. Don’t make excuses for me,” he laughs lightly, still sat on your carpet obediently like a dog because he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. “I’m beneath you and I didn’t want to drag you down with me because I.. I didn’t feel that you deserve me,” he confesses. “But I want you so badly, Y/N. You have no idea.”

Jungkook wants you so badly, that in your insistence of self-pity, it was his self-preservation that led him to cry by himself when you finally left the library after not-confessing to him.

He wants you so badly, that in his fit of self-preservation disguised into stubbornness, he had tamped down his desperation for you.

“I want to catch up with you, not you to slow down for me,” Jungkook rests his chin on your thigh, his wide, pleading eyes looking up at you. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I’m so, so, so sorry for being stupid enough to let you go the first time,” he tilts his head, resting his cheek on your awaiting hand. “Please. I’m just begging you to slow down for me this one time,” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, nudging your hand gently with his cheek. “Please let me look stupid trying to earn you.”

Jungkook, without fail, tells you how desperately he wants to be loved by you.

[hxney-lemcn]

First Kiss — The Leftovers x gn! reader

summery: your first kiss with your lover.

tw: none.

a/n: I wasn't sure what to call the students who aren't vice/housewardens so now they're deemed the leftovers (sorry Cater 😔). Also, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

wc: 2.6k (~340 per character)

Master List | Housewardens | Vicehousewardens

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cater Diamond

The atmosphere was warm and soft as you both were hanging out in Cater’s room, is what I would like to say, but it was anything but that. You and Cater decided to have a ‘picnic’ (it wasn’t planned, you both bought your lunches and went to eat in the courtyard) and apparently your confession was a little too hot. What did your blabbermouth happen to say (was it really a blabbermouth if you were just telling a trusted friend something personal)? Well, you happened to let slip that you haven’t had your first kiss yet, and for some reason Cater couldn’t wrap his head around that. He didn’t seem to know how to react, mouth opening and closing as he doubted your sentence. You were so pretty and he found himself falling for you so easily, so the thought of no one else seeing you the way he does left him flabbergasted. And the juicy gossip he was (he just needed to understand this better), he kept prying; ‘weren’t you curious?’ yes, ‘has no one asked to?’ no, ‘has no one asked you out?’ no. That last went sent him on a whole other spiral, but he tried to store that in his head for another time. By the end of his little interrogation, he felt frustrated for you. And sevens, that bashful, saddened look made his heart plummet, and gosh did he want to kiss you silly, to prove whatever false things were rattling in your mind at that moment were wrong, and it seemed that Cater’s control was slipping, the suggestion spilling past his lips before he could stop it; ‘we could kiss, just so you know what it feels like.’ His heart leapt as you eyed him like you were actually pondering it, and that little nod of your head made his heart race. The kiss was soft, hesitant, unsure, but sweet. Hands were kept to themselves, unsure how far you were both willing to cross the line, and as you pulled away, the both of you could only long for more.

“W-well, if th-there’s any other firsts you want to break, caycay’s always here~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Deuce Spade

The both of you just had the most spectacular date, you had a ton of fun and Deuce seemed to enjoy himself as well. The boy had been a blushing mess, tripping over words and trying to be as gentlemanly as possible, and you were eating up the cute display. He had argued that he couldn’t let you walk home alone, and so there you stood, on your doorstep just a few inches taller than normal. Deuce watched diligently, like there was a chance you would get hurt in the two steps it would take you to get inside (after what you experienced on campus it was a very real fear). You smiled softly at the dark haired boy, thanking him for the wonderful date. In return he managed to blush once more, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to formulate a proper response. So, to tease the poor guy some more, you leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek, watching on in amusement as Deuce seemed to shut down. You hid your cheeky grin behind your hand as he spluttered, trying to say something, but he managed to cut you off guard as he stared in wonder, face a bright red, muttering out ‘could…could you do that again?’. Who were you to deny him? Holding his cheeks, you placed another kiss, this time on the corner of his lips before you found yourself showering his entire face in kisses. You weren’t sure where all this affection was coming from, but neither of you were complaining. As you pulled away once more, you bit your lip before acting on impulse and leaving the lightest, barely there peck on his lips.

“I-I…u-uh…th-thank you. I…I hope we can go on another date…soon.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ace Trappola

You were rightfully pissed. Ace had been teasing you nonstop about how ‘nobody wanted to date you’, and honestly? It was starting to get under your skin, your old (and normal) insecurities popping up once more. You have been working on it! And just like that he had erased your hard work in improving your mental health. And so what were you doing? Giving him the silent treatment. If he was going to be a jerk then you were going to ignore him. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle it, as Ace had been finding any and every way to get on your nerves. You clenched your fist as Ace continued to poke your cheek. You were either going to bite his finger off or twist his arm behind his back if he was going to keep this up. It wasn’t until he asked the dreaded question; ‘what did he do to get you so angry?’ The dam had been broken, and you found yourself venting all your frustrations on him, from his insults to how it affected you, it was all released. The look of horror on the ginger’s face made you feel somewhat satisfied. You were a bit surprised when he apologized so heartfeltly, he genuinely looked appalled at his own behavior for once. It was only a few weeks later when things took a turn. Ace was sleeping at your dorm, and the two of you were hanging out when he asked an out of pocket question; ‘do you wanna kiss?’ It was late, he was too tired to keep his filter up, and gosh did you look kissable (it was the main reason why he was teasing you in the first place). Against your better judgment, you agreed. The kiss was awkward, neither of you sure how far to go, but you’re kinda angry at how much you liked it.

“...you’re better at that than I thought…n-not that I think of kissing you or anything-”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Jack Howl

You watched the weirdo in front of you with a blank face, wishing you could be anywhere but there. This guy decided he wanted to flirt with you, and he was doing it in the worst way possible. I mean who tries to pick someone up by asking to kiss them outright? You kept glancing at Jack, who stood intimidatingly next to you, buff arms crossed as he glared at the guy, but made no move to say anything. You felt a sneer fall over your lips unconsciously as the guy continued to try and shoot his shot, couldn’t he see he was getting nowhere? You tried to let him down nicely before, so this time you decided to be more blunt, stating that you weren’t interested and you don’t just go out kissing people. That was when the guy lashed out, crying out about how you were a jerk, that you were just like everyone else who only cared about themselves. It was when he looked like he was reaching out for you, and you flinched back for Jack to step in (quite literally). Standing in front of you his glare turned dangerous, fangs showing as he snarled, telling the guy to get lost. The both of you finally relaxed when the guy scrambled to get away, leaving you with the wolf beastman. ‘Thank you,’ You muttered, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. A smug smile tugged at your lips as Jack glanced away, a soft pink dusting his tanned cheeks. ‘Oh, did I miss?’ you teased, eyes catching the way his ear twitched. So, as the merciful person you were, you leaned up and left a small, short, gentle kiss to his lips.

“Hm, i-if you find yourself in need of help, d-don’t be afraid to come to me.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Floyd Leech

You had already found yourself in a tough predicament. You were in the clutches of Floyd Leech when he was in a bad mood. Sure, he was the one who sought you out to squeeze, but you wanted to make sure you didn’t make it worse in any way. So you resigned yourself to your fate as his personal human plushie as he squeezed you from time to time, burying his face in your neck as he grumbled on unintelligently about one thing and another. You brushed your hands through his hair, placing small kisses to the top of his head here and there, feeling relieved as he started to melt in your hold, teeth scraping against your skin as he smiled. You shivered at the sensation, hair on end once more. ‘Oh shrimpy~’ he cooed, giggling like a mad man, face suddenly very much in your own. ‘I wanna kiss’. The request was simple, blunt, but it still left you reeling. You weren’t sure why, in fact, you should be surprised it took so long for him to ask for one, but you still found your eyes widening and breath hitching at the spontaneity of it all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it (you suppose that was the appeal to Floyd). You could barely get out the words okay before Floyd pressed his lips to yours in a harsh manner, teeth clashing, lips being bit, hand on the back of your head so you couldn’t pull away. In fact, he wouldn’t stop kissing you, it seemed like forever until he finally got his fill.

“Hehe, you better watch out shrimpy~ I’m already craving another.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Epel Felmier

Your eyes widened as you eyed the intricately carved apple, turning it around to catch every detail. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve such a gift, but you were flattered nonetheless, your eyes finally raising up to meet Epel’s cyan ones. He looked bashful, cheeks tinted a light pink, eyes unable to meet your own. He tripped over his words, trying to make an excuse, stating that no one else was around so you might as well have it (you’ll ignore the fact that there were, in fact, people swarming around the cafeteria like flies). Without a second thought, you gave him a short peck on the cheek and continued business as usual. It wasn’t until Epel kept doing things for you, something that had only recently started. Epel…wasn’t mean by any means, but he also wasn’t one to help someone from the kindness of his heart. Sure, he’d do something for you before while complaining a ton, but recently he had been doing things without you even asking! It was strange, and he always seemed expectant afterwards, like he was expecting you to do something. Not to mention the little pout he thought he hid when you didn’t seem to do what he was anticipating. So, you decided to confront him, asking him outright what he wanted. Of course, he deflected, stating that he didn’t want anything and you were being crazy. A claim he wasn’t able to hide behind for long as you pointed out all the strange ways he’s been acting. Face burning red, Epel turned away, trying to keep his composure, but you seemed to be determined to break it. Your serious gaze locked onto his figure, there was no getting away from this now. And so, he admitted meekly that he wanted a kiss, and who were you to deny him? With a playful grin, you placed a kiss to his lips, reveling in the way he pushed against you like he was desperate (he had been waiting for this for so long). Pulling away, you teased that he only needed to ask if he wanted another kiss.

“I-I…d-damn, fine…do ya think we could do that again?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Silver Vanrouge

A warm breeze tousled Silver’s white locks, his steel grey eyes hidden behind his shut eyelids. His head rested in your lap, face pressed into your thighs. Squirrels and song birds fluttered around you, a small chickadee nestled on the top of your head. It was peaceful, a nice change of pace from your usual chaotic days. As beautiful as the scenery was around you, with green grass fluttering in the wind and colorful flowers swaying about, your gaze couldn’t help but fall down to the occupant in your lap. How his lashes kissed his cheeks, how the sun made his hair shine, how soft his skin was under the pads of your fingers. Silver has become the most breathtaking sight in your eyes, and the bird that roosted in your hair seemed to agree as it let out a soft series of cheeps that smoothed into a blissful melody. You couldn’t help but think about how much better your life has become once he entered your life, how sweet and protective he was, how sassy he could be when his father made an offer to cook. You had come to love all his quirks, how he could drift off to sleep in even the loudest environment or how he’d try to stay up just for you. Unable to hold your affections in for much longer, you placed a kiss against his cheek, heart fluttering when Silver’s lips tugged into a smile. So what else would you do besides lavish his face in sweet kisses? His eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help the huge grin that fell on your lips as he looked up at you affectionately. You greeted him with a kiss to the corner of his lips, a cheesy good morning following. The way he stared at you made your heart flutter and stomach tie in knots, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sleepily, Silver followed your lips without a second thought connecting them in a warm kiss before pulling away sharply, eyes wide as he apologized for not asking for consent, only to be shut up by your lips meeting once more.

“So it's not a dream…thank you.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sebek Zigvolt

You felt your eye twitch, trying your hardest to keep your composure. It felt like one step forward ten steps backwards when it came to Sebek. You thought you’d finally got to him in some way, only for him to be shouting at you once more for the same thing the next day. Which was happening right now, with him yelling at you about being some lowly human. Just the other day you had a one on one about how those comments hurt you, and he seemed to genuinely understand, so why the hell was he shouting at you again. You had tried throwing insults back, you had tried communicating like a mature person, you had even slapped him once and stormed away in tears! What the hell did you need to do to get through to this hard headed crocodile? Your glare turned sharp as Sebek continued, rambling on about one thing or another. Your exasperation taking over, you grabbed his tie, pulling his face close to yours as you sneered. You were so upset, you didn’t even notice how your noses were touching, instead tearing into Sebek instead. You also didn’t realize how Sebek turned silent, golden green eyes locked onto your figure, cheeks slowly but surely turning bright red. You let out a huff as your rant ended, raising an eyebrow at the half fae’s current state, then suddenly it clicked and an evil grin upturned your lips. Curling your fingers around his tie, you inched your face even closer (somehow), lips hovering over the other. You debated if you should do the evil thing, pull away and leave him hanging, but you also had the urge to kiss him stupid…letting your own desires win, you pushed your lips together in a heated kiss. Sebek was stiff as a board, but slowly melted into the kiss, only for you to pull away, biting his lip in the process.

“Wh-where are you going, human! You cannot k-kiss a knight and walk away without an explanation! H-hey! W-wait up-”

[kingofbodyrolls]

Bangtan Christmas ‘24 | Yoongi fic recs

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! ❄️🎄

As the twinkling lights of the season surround us, I hope you’ve found some warmth and joy in the fics shared over these past 24 days. Whether you’ve devoured them all or haven’t had the chance to dive in yet, don’t worry—I’ve saved the best for last; a rec list ✨ This special rec list is my gift to you, filled with winter and Christmas-themed stories that bring me endless joy every year 🥰 It contains the fics I’ve reblogged all throughout December, BUT—also many Yoongi stories that I sadly didn’t have the time to read, but was on my Christmas to read list. Sometimes life just hits you… and I really wanted to include them to make the most spectacular rec list so that’s why they’re included ✨

A kind comment, a heartfelt message, even a simple like or reblog—it all makes a difference. You never know how much warmth a few words can bring to a writer’s heart, especially during the cold days of winter. And even if some of them are on hiatus and don’t respond, know that your appreciation is felt.

Before we dive into this treasure trove of stories, I want to take a moment to say an enormous thank you to all the writers out there. Your words weave wonders, creating characters and worlds that have made me smile, cry, and above all, feel deeply. So, thank you for crafting such brilliant art with your writing. You are a gift to this community, and we’re all better for it 💜

[Bangtan Christmas ‘24 masterlist] Note: the stories that I sadly didn’t get to read are marked with *.

⭐F*ck Christmas @sailoryooons [23.4k] ⭐Friendcation: Winter Special @/kingofbodyrolls [10.3k] ⭐Under the Ice @hamsterclaw [8k] ⭐Not Even a Mouse @softyoongiionly [14.7k] ⭐All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t @daechwitatamic [11k] ⭐This Christmas @suga-kookiemonster [30.1k] ⭐The Window (3tan) @kithtaehyung [15.3k] ⭐Anyone but the Groom @yoonjinkooked [36.5k] ⭐Stuck on You @army-author [3.2k] ⭐Frigid Kiss @eris0330 [3.9k] ⭐Can I Touch Your Heart? @infireation [N/A] ⭐Snow Day* @jjungkookislife [7.9k] ⭐Pinewood and Poetry* @spicykoreantatertots [14.4k] ⭐Mistletoe* @katobobato [1.3k] ⭐Home for Christmas* @dinoyoongi [11.2k] ⭐Here We Come a-Carolling* @gimmesumsuga [N/A] ⭐Cuffing Season* @lattaescript [3k] ⭐Churro Chumps* @cinnaminsvga [7.2k] ⭐A Christmas Miracle* @wegotjiminsjams [4.8k] ⭐Secret Santa* @hamsterclaw [1.2k] ⭐Tip of the Iceberg* @gukslut [20.1k] ⭐Poles* @bubblebop [5.4k] ⭐I’ll Give You My Heart* @gukyi [6k] ⭐Under the Missiletoe* (discontinued series) @kittae [5k] ⭐The Way to Your Heart* @joonary [9k] ⭐Time is Ticking* @joonary [3k] ⭐Snowstorm* @btsmosphere [6k] ⭐Maybe it’s Time* @infireation [6.1k] ⭐;First and Last and Always* @floralseokjin [15.4k] ⭐All I Want for Christmas* @hayjeon [13k] ⭐Christmas Wish* @joonthighs [4k] ⭐Cream & Suga* @snackhobi [14.8k] ⭐Crystal Snow* @jeonggukkiepabo [7.3k] ⭐All I Want is You(ngi)* @jinpanman [2.5k] ⭐Twice Upon a Christmas Catastrophe* @artaefact [15.7k]

I truly hope you find joy in diving into all these wonderful stories! 🥰 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to explore this rec list. I couldn’t resist creating another one—I’ve missed it dearly. I know some of you enjoyed the monthly rec lists, so I hope this little collection brings a spark of joy to your holiday season.

If this list has brought a smile to your face, I kindly ask that you consider reblogging it. The more it’s shared, the more people can discover these incredible stories, and together, we can spread even more holiday cheer to the talented writers who make this season a little more magical with their words ❄️✨

Hello, lovely people! I’m Lissa, both a reader and a writer at heart. Though I don’t write much fanfiction these days, my love for reading and recommending fics burns as bright as ever. If you’re looking for more Bangtan fanfics to cozy up with, you’re more than welcome to follow me, or simply explore my rec library. There’s always something special waiting for you.

With all my love, and borahae always 💜

[4ranghaes]

myung jaehyun x reader [smut, fem!reader]

warnings - chastity cage, sub!myungjae, pretty hard dom!reader, slight humiliation, use of puppy and pup as nicknames, mummy kink, checking colour

a/n - too much fluff this month. had to get this out my system

15:33 - “jaehyun! we’re going out!” sungho exclaimed, standing at the doorway with riwoo, “jae?!”

jaehyun cleared his throat, trying to stop the whine from bubbling out his throat. he picked up the blanket from his bed, covering himself with it as he opened his bedroom door. not that they could see anything, anyway, but better safe than sorry.

“okay! y/n’s coming round soon,” he responded, voice tight as he tried to grind against the material in his hand.

“oh god, good job we’re leaving, eh?” riwoo teased, waving goodbye to his leader, “bye!”

jaehyun whimpered at his words, waving goodbye and disappearing back into his room. he threw the blanket back on the bed, looking down at his cock, locked in a cage. it was straining against the material, the cage fighting against the boner that was threatening to arise. it didn’t hurt, but jaehyun was so uncomfortable - he’d had it on for almost the whole week, leaving him on monday night with the promise of unlocking him on his next day off (saturday).

“myungjae?” your voice rang through the dorm, sickly sweet as he appeared out his room, tears already lining his eyes at the mere fact you were there.

“y/n,” he whined. he only had a t-shirt on, spending the morning trying fruitlessly to touch himself through the metal. you giggled when you saw him.

“oh my baby,” you cooed, pulling him into a hug, jaehyun’s head burying into the crook of your neck, “what’s wrong?”

he pulled away, glaring at you as you laughed.

“did you miss me that much?!”

“you know i did,” he breathed, voice small, “please, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes, “are you that desperate, myungjae? just a horny puppy, aren’t you? i bet you’ve been trying to touch yourself even through that cage, right?! it hasn’t even been a week, pup. god, what am i gonna do with you?”

“please touch me,” he cried, a tear falling down his cheek, “please… i’m so hard.”

you looked down, pulling up his t-shirt and seeing his red cock, head straining at the bars. you rolled your eyes.

“get on the bed, then,” you sighed, your boyfriend scrambling back to his room to climb on the bed on his knees. you walked in, shutting the door and approaching him. stood at the base of the bed, you dug your hand into your pocket, pulling out a small key, myungjae crying at the sight of it. “you want this?”

he nodded desperately, sniffling, “please. please, i’m so hard and– and i’ve been good! i haven’t touched myself.”

you scoffed, “only because you couldn’t. oh i like this, hmm? you don’t even get the chance to break my rules. how did you like it, puppy? knowing i owned your cock. knowing you can only touch yourself when i say so.”

he nodded, rocking back and forth on his knees as you started undressing slowly until you were only in your underwear. he could feel his cock pulsing now, taking a deep breath and trying to take his mind of the restrictive material, “i– i l–loved it. i loved it, i did.”

you smiled, “me too, pup. i love it so much, you’ve already made me so wet.” myungjae bit his lip, watching as you got on your knees in front of him, your hand threaded in his hair as he looked up at you through teary eyes. “can you eat me out?”

his eyes turned wide with worry. “b-but i– my—”

“i know. i’ll unlock your little cock afterwards,” you hummed, “don’t you want to make mummy feel good?”

he nodded desperately, “yes. yes, can i touch you, mummy, please?”

you smiled, “of course, baby. so good for me, so obedient.” his hands flew to your body, touching you all over as he kissed at your neck and chest, laying you down and licking over the material of your panties.

he could feel the material of the bedding brushing over the tip of his cock through the bars of the cage, tears lining his eyes every time it did, his body practically bursting.

“myungjae?” you called, as he nibbled at your thighs, pulling your panties to the side. his cock leaked at the sight of you laid out in front of him, “jaehyun? look at me.”

he took a deep breath, looking at you with wet eyes and a teary face, breathing uneven.

“what’s your colour, baby?” you smiled, placing a hand on his face.

“g-green,” he sobbed, “i–i just— hurts, now…”

“it hurts, my love?” you cooed, “i’m sorry, baby, i thought i could tease you some more, hmm?”

“no! it’s– it’s okay. w–want to make y–you feel good,” he sniffled, tears continuing to fall as he wiped his face.

“i’m okay, baby,” you smiled, sitting up and placing your hand on his face, “why don’t we get you out of the cage first, hmm? i know you’ll give me at least three rounds, anyway, yeah?”

he nodded desperately, laying down against his pillows as you got the key from the bedside table, undoing the small lock on the cage and taking it off, jaehyun’s red cock almost immediately springing up, tip leaking constantly.

“you’re so hard, baby boy,” you cooed, gathering some of the precum off the tip and spreading it around his cock, beginning to pump slowly. his body twitched as you touched him, not used to the stimulation.

he whined at the first brush of your finger, moaning loudly as you started pumping, “m-mummy, i’m not gonna– not gonna be able to hold it.”

“you cum whenever you need to, baby,” you cooed, working over his hard cock and red tip. his body was flailing around the bed, hand gripping onto your thigh desperately as he bucked his hips.

“i– i— cum,” he babbled, thoughts incoherent as the liquid spurt from his tip, covering your hand, his t-shirt and the exposed skin of his stomach.

he moaned loudly as you worked him through it, panting and looking up at you lovingly as you finally let go. you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his chewed up lips.

“was that okay?” you murmured, jaehyun nodding quickly, “you wanna fuck me, puppy?”

“yes! please,” he whined, grabbing at your body as you smirked, grinding his already hard cock against your clothed heat.

“so good for me,” you smiled, pulling your panties to the side and sinking down. your eyes rolled back in your head as jaehyun moaned loudly.

“i– y/n– i’m gonna—” he stuttered as you moved down, painting your insides with his cum as you bottomed out on his cock. you smiled, biting your lip and leaning down to kiss him, grabbing his face harshly. he was flushed red, both embarrassed and so turned on– you knew how he loved being humiliated.

“you just got your cock inside me and you’re already cumming?” you teased, scoffing, “god, you’re so desperate, pup. and you’re already hard again?! are you in heat?”

jaehyun tried to stutter out a reply, his face red as he arched his back, trying to stop himself fucking up into you.

“come on then,” you taunted, “if you’re that horny, use it. fuck me, myungjae. show me why i shouldn’t lock your cock up again.”

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 10

Just a reminder no posting next week, as I have to recover from the holidays and all the fics I wrote.

Eddie throws a homecoming party and friends get hella pushy, so both Steve and Eddie push back

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Pt 7 Part 8 Part 9

~

The next night Eddie threw a coming home party and invited all the people Steve had hired, the D&D boys (Mike and Dustin), and even let Steve bring Robin as his plus one.

As Steve walked in with Robin, he instantly spotted three men he didn’t know. The broad-chested black man was talking to Charles in one corner of the room, while the other two, a heavy set man and a short, curly haired man was talking to Dustin. And judging from how animated they were getting, Steve was gonna bet they were talking about D&D.

He had even had a chance to look for their host, when Eddie came bounding up to them with a big grin on his face.

“Stevie!” he greeted warmly. “You made it! Everyone else is here at the ball, Cinderella. Come, come meet my friends.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him over to the two talking with Dustin first. “This is Bri-guy and Gare-bear!”

Steve laughed and shook their hands. “I’m the nanny.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “He’s much more than that, he’s an amazing cook and the girls love him.”

“I’m Brian and this Gareth,” Brian said shaking his head. “And we know all about you. This idiot wouldn’t stop talking about the an–”

Eddie slapped his hand over Brian’s mouth and grinned brightly at Steve. “I think that’s about enough of these two, don’cha think?”

Robin got a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “Not at all. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Robin, the best friend and platonic soulmate of Steve. We’ve been friends for ages. How long have you known Eddie?”

Gareth grinned at her, sensing a partner in crime. “Oh ages. We all went to high school together. I’m not the original drummer and Bri isn’t the original bassist, but we’re the lightning in the bottle that made Corroded Coffin what it is today.”

Eddie dropped his hand from Brian’s mouth to put his hands on his hips. “How dare!”

Brian and Gareth cackled. And suddenly they were joined but whom Steve assumed was the final member of Corroded Coffin, Jeff Lawrence.

“Are we all picking on Eddie?” he asked gleefully.

“No!” Eddie and Steve cried at the same time the other three cried, “Yes!”

Jeff snapped his fingers. “Ooh! I like her! Jeff, the better guitarist of Corroded Coffin and its lead singer.”

Eddie pushed Jeff. “Oh get out. Only for the last album when we were trying something different. It was not something the fans liked. Asshole.”

“I’ve got to tease you, man,” Jeff huffed with a grin. “It’s so easy!”

“This is Jeffy,” Eddie groused, folding his arms like a scolded toddler. “Meet Steve and Robin.”

“Nice to put a name to the faces,” Jeff said with a charming grin. “Eddie talked all about Steve so Robin’s name came up a lot.”

Steve blushed, but Robin grinned.

“Glad to hear I made it to the dispatch notes,” she said, then turned to Eddie. “I’ve got to say, I really love this house. It looks like it stepped out of pages of a gothic horror film. It’s awesome!”

Eddie took a bow. “Why thank you, my lady!” He looked around his house proudly. “That was the look I was going for. I can’t stand all this sterile white, grey, and beige bullshit that is in vogue right now. Give me color and character!”

“Have you seen what Steve’s done to his room yet?” Robin asked cheerfully, knowing full well what she was insinuating.

Eddie flushed a bright pink, shoving his hair in face to hide the blush and Steve stared at her in wide-eye, slack-jawed shock.

“Robin!” he hissed, flapping his hands at her in embarrassment and dismay.

She grinned at him unrepentantly, folding her arms over her chest and sitting back to see what Eddie would say.

“I–I um...” he coughed. “I haven’t had the opportunity to see how Steve spruced up the place, no.”

“Robin,” Steve said low and deep in warning. “Eddie hasn’t had a reason to see my rooms yet as he’s only been home for thirty-six hours.”

Robin just batted her eyelashes at him innocently. “I would have thought he would have wanted to see what you did to the rooms he’s letting you use in his house.”

The other three members of the band were falling over each other, just cackling over this exchange. Steve was red from the tips of his ears all the way down the dip in his collar. Eddie’s mind tried to follow the thought of how much further the blush went. He didn’t have to think about it long as Steve grabbed Robin and hauled her off elsewhere.

He turned to his friends. “Oh shut it. Assholes.”

“Dude,” Jeff said breathlessly clutching his sides, “like that was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever witnessed and that includes the time Gareth tried to hit on the supermodel that last Grammy’s.”

“Hey!” Gareth huffed. “I got a date out of that, I’ll have you know!”

Brian put his arm around Gareth’s shoulder. “After I told her that you weren’t as big an ass as that interaction displayed. She was going to lose your number, man.”

Gareth folded his arms and pouted. “I hate you both.”

“But seriously, Ed,” Jeff said turning his attention back to Eddie who had been trying to slip away from them before they noticed he was gone.

He failed.

“It’s obvious he has the hots for you,” Jeff continued, “so why aren’t you tapping that ass? You wouldn’t shut up about him the whole time we were on tour. It was actually kinda annoying.”

“For real,” Brian agreed. “And please I don’t want to hear how you’re not ready to get out there again after Ethan left, or how you’re paying him to look after you girls because I’ve seen him with them and holy shit they adore him.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “Guys, I haven’t been home for forty-eight hours yet. Can you not try and hook me up with my daughters’ nanny for fuck sake?” He peered around Jeff, making sure Steve was out of earshot. “I don’t really know him yet. Yes, we talked a lot about everything during the tour but I haven’t had to live with him under my roof yet. I could hate the way he takes three showers a day or whatever.”

Jeff and Brian shared an exasperated look as Brian threw his hands in the air. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and took a step back on one leg. “That maybe if me and Ethan had lived together before we got married, maybe the marriage wouldn’t have blown up like it did.”

It was a small and simple “Oh,” from Jeff, but it encapsulated all the feelings of the three other members of Corroded Coffin.

“Shit,” Gareth hissed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have pushed but we just wanted you to be happy. And you light up around Steve in a way I haven’t seen you do in years.”

“What would you know?” Eddie spat bitterly. He looked around at all of them. “What would any of you know? You scattered like kids around a broken window the second the band broke up. And where were you when Ethan left? Or when Wayne broke his leg? I appreciated the tour, it really helped me prioritize things. But you don’t get to come into my house and act like you’ve been there the whole fucking time when you haven’t.”

Eddie stormed off, leaving the three of them there with shocked expressions.

“Shit,” Jeff said, hissing out a pained breath. “He’s right. Fuck. He’s right. We should have flown out the second he told us about Ethan. But we kept putting it off until the deal about the tour came around and then suddenly we were interested in his life only when it benefited us.”

Gareth ran his hands down his face and rolled his eyes skyward. “Fuck. What kind of friends have we been? Like we’re all rich enough that hopping on a plane wouldn’t have even dented our fortunes at all. We should have been for the messy divorce and been helping take care of the girls. But what were we even doing that couldn’t have been put on hold?”

“I was the closest,” Jeff huffed. “I was in New York. Hell, I could driven down. But little shit just kept cropping up. Miranda’s health scare. Then she got pregnant and lost the baby. Which were important at the time, but Eddie needed me.”

“I don’t have any excuse,” Gareth said, shaking his head. “Because yeah, I was on the otherside of the world, but Eddie would have flown around the world a dozen times for me, but I couldn’t fly half way.”

Brian’s lip quivered. “My mom got cancer around the time, but I don’t think she would have begrudged me flying out to see Eddie. But I didn’t even give it a second thought.”

Jeff looked around the room for Eddie and spotted him standing next to Steve. Robin wandered off, leaving Steve sitting on a table, ankles crossed, swinging them back and forth, drink in hand as he listened to some story Eddie was telling him.

Jeff continued to watch as Eddie must have said something funny, because Steve threw head back and laughed.

“I think I see the silver lining to our neglect, boys,” he murmured, pointing out the tableau before them.

The other two men turned and looked. Steve was nodding vigorously, big smile on his face as he told his own story to Eddie.

“Because if we had been here to help Eddie around the house,” Jeff continued, “then he wouldn’t have gotten so desperate to hire a male nanny. Yeah, we fucked up. We pushed too hard. But damn boys, look at what grew in that barren wasteland, anyway.”

“So it’s settled,” Brian said, “we’re all staying in Indy to help Eddie and Steve get together, right?”

Gareth nodded. “Damn straight we are. Plus those kids Steve found to play D&D, I’d stick around just to see their style.”

“Looks like Operation: Refriend Eddie is a go, boys,” Jeff said excitedly, putting his arms around both of his friends. “And maybe we’ll get a wedding out of this, too.”

~

Steve had given Robin a good talking to. Like maybe don’t proposition his boss on his behalf before the sheets had even had time to warm up, yeah?

It took some proper talking to her to before she relented and apologized. Then stomped off to find some real booze. Steve knew she was going to raid Eddie’s liquor cabinet, but considering most of it was already out, he didn’t figure Eddie would mind too much.

Then a glass of whiskey was being dangled in front of him. He looked up to see Eddie smiling down at him. Steve took the glass with a murmur of thanks.

“Here’s to interfering best friends!” Steve said raising his glass to Eddie’s.

Eddie clinked their glasses together with wary smile. “I just wish they had been around more before they started interfering in my business. They weren’t around to pick up the pieces, so they don’t get to decide when to change puzzles.”

“Here’s to that.” Steve took a drink. “Robin is just trying to make sure I’m happy and she knows how much I love this place.” He shook his head. “I’m content with being the Au Pair Boy. I don’t need anything else.”

“You are much more than that,” Eddie said fiercely. “My girls love you. You’re special, don’t sell yourself short.”

“I promise.” Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes. “I love those little girls too.”

“Don’t look now,” Eddie said with a grin, “but I think our friends are spying on us.”

Steve took a drink of his whiskey and looked up through his eyelashes and sure enough the Corroded Coffin boys and Robin were all looking over at them, trying to look they weren’t.

“Quick, laugh!” Eddie said and Steve burst out laughing genuinely. “Oh, that was perfect. Good job.”

“Learning the art of actually laughing when you’re supposed to be fake laughing,” Steve said warmly, “is a skill taught to the children of socialites like my mother from birth.”

“I wish they gave you a crash course when you become famous,” Eddie said with a weary smile, “because holy shit it’s like being dumped in a shark tank!”

Steve winced in sympathy. “Yeah, they should teach classes and stuff.”

“Annoying best friends aside,” Eddie murmured. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Steve looked up into his eyes and smiled fondly. “I am too.”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon @yesdangerpls

[seeminglydark]

‘Johnny!’ he turned, familiar voice that had lulled him to sleep for the past 5 years, staving off nightmares with a calm and even flow. Caro was standing in the street, grinning at him, though he could read the edge of nerves in their eyes. That was the kind of reading he was good at, people. His heart skipped.

‘Caro. What are you doing here? I-I thought you were on tour.’ He stood still, feet frozen in place, feeling like the butt of some joke, but Caro just took a hesitant step toward him, that big bright smile they were known for shining in the dark, the twinkling lights from the grocer bouncing off their pale skin and atrocious ski jacket. They shrugged, fidgeting.

‘When you live alone, and you don’t have family or close friends to spend the holidays with,’ they began, looking sideways past him, grin faltering, ‘sometimes you get tired of being peoples pity invite. I know we’re just barely gettin’ to know each other again but… well. I thought maybe you might feel the same way.’

He blinked, disbelief coloring his tone, ‘You’re… saying you’re here to spend Christmas with me?’ They shrugged again and met his gaze, hopeful smile, bright eyes. He started to laugh, but it wasn’t a mean hollow laugh, it was an infectious joyful one, confusion and humor and before he knew what had happened, they’d leapt into his arms, knocking the breath out of him, while he tried to confess he only had a turkey tv dinner and a half bottle of strawberry Boones Farm between his laughter. How could they just show up unannounced.? maybe they could order Chinese or something, he thought, hanging onto them like his life depended on it, and it would be alright after all.

✨I haven’t had much time to draw since I’ve been visiting my hometown and spending time with my mom, but I had a chance to make a little something for the holiday season today. Enjoy! Johnny and Caro are from my webcomics Seemingly Dark and Mil-Liminal.✨

[narnian-neverlander]

Your Villain [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Preview: It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?”

Genre: hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: blood, injuries, panic attack (reader accidentally hurts themselves during an attack), talk about neglectful/abusive parents & human trafficking, mildly suggestive (Viktor is a menace)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Just in case I haven’t made that clear enough in all my fics, I love Jayce. Jayce haters have no space on my blog, bye 👋

“So what did you think?”

Jayce beams at you from up on the stage in the otherwise empty auditorium, you his only audience. You’d literally run into him on your way to deliver the boys’ food and without waiting for your approval, he’d immediately dragged you off to have someone to practice his presentation for some potential investors with. Most of the technical terms are lost on you of course, but the golden boy manages to make it all engaging and thrilling nonetheless, as you knew he would. There’s just one tiny little thing.

“It’s great. Except you look like you’re about to fall off the stage and start snoring any second.” His smile falters and it only serves to accentuate the dark circles under his eyes, his disheveled clothes and messy hair. If that’s the state he’s in, the one out of the two Hextech geniuses just a tiny smidge better at taking care of himself, you don’t even want to think about the other one. Unfortunately, it is kind of your job to think about the other one. “When did Mel say she was bringing over those potential new investors?”

“Soon.” he answers as he hops of the stage to join you. “Soon as in a few weeks, or a few days, or…?” The way he flinches makes you dread the worst. “Soon as in I think they might already be in her office.” Shaking your head in fond exasperation, you quickly gather your things and head back towards the lab with him. “Cutting it a bit close this time, aren’t we?” He groans as he walks alongside you down the hall. “There’s just been a lot happening at once recently, alright? Besides, they’re only coming by to talk to Mel today, the actual presentation from our side isn’t for a few days.”

He holds the door to the lab open for you and you quickly thank him as you duck inside, immediately zeroing in on the man sat at one of the desks, furiously scribbling into one of his notebooks. Greeting him happily, he replies with, “Ah, you’re back. Hand me those notes you took with you.” Jayce digs through his pile of papers for said notes and leaves them on the desk before coming to stand beside you. “Does he— Has it resgistered with him that I’m here…?” You’re trying your damn hardest not laugh as you pass a sandwich from your bag to the tall brunette; he shrugs while unpacking it. “Eh, maybe. 50/50 chance.” He takes a quick bite and then calls out to his partner again. “Hey V, your lover’s here.”

“That’s great, Jayce.” Deadpan, monotone. So Jayce ups the ante. “Yeah, we thought we’d maybe go on a date later? Or better yet, we skip that and just do it on a desk right here, you don’t mind, right?” A dismissive wave of a slender hand. “Yes, yes, whatever you want.” And you’re laughing while Jayce fondly shakes his head and continues to eat. Grabbing a thermos, you also snatch one of the stools scattered across the room and drag it over to where Viktor’s sitting. You sit down beside him, unscrew the bottle and pour some of the steaming contents into the empty mug still in front of him, then settle down sideways on the desk, arm tucked under your head for comfort as you watch him.

5 seconds. 4. 3. 2. 1. And there he is; blinking as the smell hits him and draws him out of his own little world. Works every time. You snort as he reaches for the mug. “At least now I know where I stand - and it’s below the sweetmilk. Disappointing, not surprising.” He startles, not really expecting anyone else in the lab, much less so close to him, eyes locking onto you and his gaze immediately grows soft. Mumbling apologies, his hand finds the back of your neck, practiced fingers drawing familiar patterns into the skin as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. Placated for now, you get back up on your feet and hug him from behind, arms around his shoulders and lips next to his ear. “How is the most handsome man in Piltover today?”

“Bone tired. But you knew that already, I guess. Pretty good, considering the stress, but it’s all gonna be worth it when—“ he cuts himself off when he finds two sets of judgemental eyes with raised brows on him, matching expressions conveying clear amusement. “And you were talking to Viktor.” Snickering, you answer, “Yes, Jayce, I was talking to the man I’ve been dating for months. I can see how you got confused though, considering our earlier bit. And I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, all things considered, but maybe some rest isn’t the worst idea? Get your mind working properly again?” And because the poor man doesn’t feel bad enough yet, Viktor brings a hand to his heart, clutching at his chest in mock offense and chimes in with, “Oh don’t be too hard on him, we can’t blame him; it’s only natural he’d assume you’re talking to him. Who would ever look at me when Piltover’s very own golden boy is in the room?”

Jayce opens and closes his mouth, failing miserably at trying to come up with a retort; both of you grinning at him like cats playing with their favorite toy, so he simply throws up his hands in surrender and settles on: “Oh, you both suck. You deserve each other.” Still laughing, you plant a quick kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek and then walk back over to the table where you left your bag, intending to grab his lunch. Not that you get very far, as the very familiar handle of a cane loops around your waist and drags you backwards in stumbling steps and before you know it you land in Viktor’s lap with an ‘Ooff!’

“And where do you think you’re going?” he complains, trapping you with him, arms tightly wound around your middle. “To get your food so you actually have the energy to go home with me?” You can feel the protest coming before he even opens his mouth and you’re absolutely not having it right now, not with the way he currently looks. “Darling, your eyebags have eyebags, you’re already about halfway out of your clothes and quite frankly, you reek. So you’re coming home with me, you’re gonna take a bath and then a nap and you’re not gonna argue about it. I just saw the presentation on your current project; it’s perfectly fine, your work is done and you have no reason to stay cooped up in here any longer today.” Tired, amber eyes blink at you owlishly several times before he cocks his head to the side and a sultry smile tugs at his lips and you curse yourself for not just slapping your hand over his mouth when you’d had the chance. “And when do we get to the part where I get to have you for dessert?” An eye roll at his boldness. “Maybe we can talk about it after your nap. Maybe.” His nose wrinkles in disapproval and he buries his face in the crook of your neck before you can stop him, warm breath fanning across your neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake when he speaks again. “Eh, I do not like that order.” You just barely manage to tangle your fingers into his hair and forcefully tug his head back before he manages to sink his teeth into the column of your throat. “Viktor…” you warn, only halfheartedly. He’s even worse of a menace than usual when he’s sleep deprived and you know that. You should know that. And yet you still make the mistake of looking at him.

With the first few buttons of his shirt undone, vest and tie discarded long before you even came into the picture, strands of his chestnut hair sticking up in every direction, partly courtesy of your fingers still keeping his head in place, and pupils blown so wide there’s only a thin ring of gold left, he damn well looks like you’ve already done something indecent. The ‘What…?’ he whispers is perfectly innocent, while the smile on his pretty lips is perfectly sinful. Your lover turns your brain to mush more often than you’d like and he likes to do it at the most inopportune of times. Unintentional, of course, he’d assured you. Right.

“Oh for the love of— I’m still here!” It’s your saving grace, the reboot your brain had sorely needed. “There are times when I liked it better when you two weren’t dating, do you know that?” You get your feet back on the floor and yourself off Viktor’s lap as you teasingly shoot back with, “And do you know that you get mean when you’re sleep deprived? You had a good hand in getting us together, you know, you’re only reaping what you sowed.”

Jayce flips you off with an equally teasing, gap-toothed grin, and of course that’s the exact moment the heavy doors open and Mel walks in. The three of you scramble to look at least somewhat professional in the young councilor’s presence, which includes Jayce immediately shoving his hands behind his back and you putting a good distance between you and Viktor by meandering back over to the table with your things, luckily positioned in a back corner of the lab mostly hidden by machinery, so you simply try to make yourself as invisible as possible; her visit always means business and that really has nothing to do with you, so you try to stay out of it to the best of your abilities.

“Councilor! I didn’t expect you today, what can we do for you?” She trails an elegant hand along one of the desks as she answers Jayce. “Oh nothing much. Your next potential investors were wondering if they could maybe sneak a peak at what they might be investing in.” The two scientists exchange quick glances. “With all due respect, our presentation wasn’t supposed to be until later this week. And to be honest we’re in no shape—“ She interrupts him with a call of his name, soft and amused and the air in the room becomes lighter, less professional. “Their little one asked to see the lab, that’s all. She was quite excited about the entire prospect of you two making actual magic happen here.” Viktor’s shoulders slump in relief as Jayce laughs lightly. “O-oh that’s… yeah, sure, why not.” Mel nods in thanks and then returns to the door, inviting the people waiting inside.

What happens next is mostly political pleasantries and introductions being exchanged, so you don’t really pay much attention, except… you know these voices. At least, you’re fairly certain you do, even if your mind can’t place them in this very moment. Trying to inconspicuously steal a glance at the visitors, you peek around a corner of machinery. You can’t see much, with their backs turned to you; two human adults with graying hair, in fine clothes, adorned with gold and jewels, and a little bouncing ball of energy hopping around them, trying to take in everything in the lab all at once.

“Mama, Papa, look! What’s that? And what do you use this for? Oh, why do you have that thing?”

A soft chuckle.

“My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?”

And the glass bottle in your hands slips from your fingers and shatters into a thousand little pieces on the floor.

Mama, Papa, look! I’ve never seen any food like that! What do you think it tastes like? Can we get this back home, too?

My, your mind is as insatiable as always isn’t it, dear?

The blood’s roaring in your ears, ‘Oh that’s just a friend who brought over some food, nothing to worry about’ the last thing you hear from Jayce before the rest of the world gets drowned out. You’re on your knees, gathering glass shards in mechanical movements as your heart rate picks up enough for it to be considered worrisome. No matter how hard and deep you gulp down air, it can’t seem to fill your lungs and your breaths turn sharp, shallow, gasping.

Meanwhile Viktor is drumming his fingers against the wood of the desk in irritation and anxiety and the very instant these people are out the door, he’s up and walking across the room. Something’s wrong with you; he can’t explain it, but he’s absolutely certain nonetheless. As he rounds the corner of the lab equipment you’re hiding behind, his stomach drops and the breath almost gets knocked out of him.

Blood. All over the floor, smeared over your thighs and dripping from your trembling hands, glass shards clutched between your fingers. He shouts for Jayce to get the first aid kit immediately and then he’s down on the ground with you, desperately pleading with you to open your hands and let go. But it’s like you can’t even see him, much less hear him; breaths barely a shivering wheeze and glassy, unfocused eyes staring off into nothing. If he forces your palms open he’s only going to hurt you and himself, so he brings his hand to the back of your neck instead, gently coaxing you to him and leaning his forehead against yours; whispering quiet reassurances to you, hoping to pull you back from whatever dark place you slipped into.

“It’s okay, miláčku, you’re okay.”

“I’m with you, you’re not alone.”

“Breathe, please just breathe for me, my love.”

It takes several long, agonizing minutes, but your breathing slowly returns to normal and you finally unclench your hands, glass still sticking to your tender, bloody skin. Blinking, your eyes swim back into focus and you can’t remember how exactly you ended up on the floor, or why you feel so exhausted and light headed. Or why Viktor’s kneeling on the ground in front of you, looking like he just witnessed his very own personal hell play out in front of him; Jayce standing a few feet behind him with the first aid kit in his hands, equally concerned and horrified.

“V-Vik…?” you whimper and that’s when the pain finally hits and your gaze falls to the bloody, disgusting mess that is your hands and the sobs and tears start before the situation fully registers.

The both of them get you up and sitting on the nearest desk, Viktor next to you with an arm around your shoulders and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, tears staining his shirt as he shushes you gently. Jayce gets to work on your hands in the meantime, picking out glass shards from your skin with a pair of tweezers as carefully as possible. By the time he’s applying disinfectant to your wounds and starts slowly wrapping them in gauze, the lab’s silent except for your quiet hiccups. Gingerly, apologetically, Viktor makes you sit up so he can get a look at your face and while he doesn’t necessarily like what he finds, eyes red and puffy and glassy, still with the same empty faraway look from earlier, he deems it safe enough to question you. “Darling, can you tell me what happened…?” You open your mouth, you want to answer, but try as you might, nothing comes out. So he helps you along. “Did you know the people who were here?” A nod.

Jayce knows about the… unique circumstances you’d had to endure when you first came to Piltover. Not in as much detail as Viktor, he assumes anyways, but he’s your friend and you’d confided in him about it long ago. And with his partner’s usually sharp mind clouded with worry, he’s the one that connects the dots first. Not that it makes getting the question out any easier, so when he speaks it’s slow and hesitant. “Were they… were they some of the people that… bought you when you were a kid…?” To his surprise, or maybe relief, he’s not sure, you shake your head no. Short lived relief as your answer makes his blood turn to ice. “They’re the people that sold me in the first place…”

“Those were… those were your parents…?” Jayce asks carefully as he finishes wrapping up your hands and you don’t actually answer his question, only mumble to yourself under your breath, and what he manages to hear breaks the inventor’s heart. “They have a kid… they have a kid…”

In direct opposition to his partner, Viktor’s blood is boiling. If you weren’t entirely reliant on him to keep you upright at the moment, he would be out of the lab and after your birth parents already. And it’s not hard to tell what he’s thinking, with the sharp, deadly glare directed at the door, so Jayce calls his name. No reaction. Again. Same result. Third time’s the charm, this time a bit louder, with more force behind it, and the Zaunite’s narrowed golden eyes flit from the doors to his fellow scientist. He’s gotten up from the stool he’d been on to treat your wounds, now packing up the medical supplies and subtly inclines his head towards you. “Someone should get them to a doctor. And then home. And stay with them.”

The raging fire in Viktor dies down to flickering embers as he takes in your trembling, hunched over form, little whimpers still leaving your lips every once and again. “Of course…” he replies and he could kick himself. Of course. You’re in pain, you’re suffering and you need him right now. Whatever he might think of your birth parents, however much he’d like to throw some choice words on your behalf at them, your wellbeing comes first. So he ushers you to your feet, arms linked and starts steering you towards the exit. Jayce’s ‘Keep me in the loop, okay?’ receives a decisive nod right before the doors close behind you both.

It’s a few hours and a doctor’s visit later that you’re settled into your bathtub, back pressed against Viktor’s chest and hands stretched out in front of you to examine them in all their bandaged glory. Nothing vital had been injured, thankfully, a bit of rest and some medicine and you’d be good as new. “This is ridiculous.” you complain in a huff, pushing some wet strands of hair out of your face. “I was supposed to be taking care of you.” His arms tighten around your middle in response, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “I am overworked. You had a panic attack and accidentally sliced your hands open. Which one of those sounds like it should be higher up on our list of priorities, hm?” Unconvinced, you grumble further objections under your breath and poke at one of the dwindling bubbles in the steaming water, careful not to get your hands wet, lest you need to re-wrap them again this evening. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that… I’m not usually—“

“Stop.” He silences you with a kiss to your jawline. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just sorry you had to go through that in the first place.” With a defeated sigh, you scoot down further into the tub, nestling into his embrace and nosing at the slope of his neck. Silence falls between you for a while, except for the soft music from your phonograph over in the other room. You haven’t talked about anything that has happened and he hasn’t pried, hasn’t pushed and you know he won’t. Just like you know that you probably should talk about what’s weighing down on you so heavily. “Their kid. She seemed… happy. Well taken care of.” Ah, right, that’s why you’d refused to talk. You’re already crying again, swallowing around the growing lump in your throat. “Which means they can be good parents. Nurturing. Kind. They just couldn’t be that for me.” A sobbing hiccup is a precursor of what’s to come. “Why— Why couldn’t they just be that for me?!” You curl in on yourself, tucked against his chest, dissolving into a whimpering, crying mess. He stays mostly silent through it, only comforting little nothings between soft kisses against your skin. He waits for you to calm down, quiet sniffles the only thing left of your outburst, before he speaks. “It is not your fault, my light. They’re the fools who never gave you the love and care you deserved and in turn gave up the chance to see the wonderful person you would become.”

The grief and pain in your chest slowly turns into something else entirely; bitter and ugly and hateful.

“I want them to see. I want them to see what I accomplished, the person I turned into, without their help. In spite of what they did to me. I want them to look at me and recognize that they messed up; groveling and begging for forgiveness that I won’t grant.” And a part of you does want that, more than anything. Wants to see them humiliated and crying and broken, just like they left you once, long ago. But that’s just one part of you. Another one thinks of the little, bubbly, starry eyed girl you’d seen sprinting about the lab; happy and joyful to be experiencing, sharing, something new and exciting with her beloved parents. A heavy sigh leaves you as realization which part of you will win out in the end hits. “But it wouldn’t change anything. The only thing it would accomplish is ruin the image an innocent girl has of her parents. It would change things for her, not for me or for them. I’d be destroying the foundation parents are supposed to be for their children and it would make me just like them.”

“You’re a stronger person than I ever could be. If not for you and Jayce, I would’ve gone after them today. Given them a piece of my mind.” A kiss to his pulse point. “It’s the thought that counts. Besides, there was a time when I would’ve needed them in my life. Not anymore. I had a parent; a dad who raised me and supported me and gave me all the love and care I ever needed. And while he might not be around anymore, I still have people who love me. That’s more than enough.”

What you’re about to say next doesn’t come as easily to you; it’s inappropriate and you hate the fact that you even consider asking, but not mentioning it at all doesn’t sit right with you either. “Viktor, I… I don’t wanna ask this of you, I shouldn’t be. It’s presumptuous and selfish and my personal life shouldn’t be interfering with your work, but… please, just…” You can’t bring yourself to actually finish that sentence, not that you really have to, you both know what you’re implying. He doesn’t immediately reply, you don’t expect him to and you definitely don’t expect him to agree. What you’re asking is audacious at best, downright offensive at worst and you wouldn’t blame him if he got upset with you over it. What happens instead leaves you utterly baffled, because he carefully takes hold of one of your hands and presses a light kiss to the bandaged knuckles and says, “I still remember the last time I saw you when we were kids, you know.”

“You came bounding down to the riverbed, almost tripping over your own feet, yelling my name and waving your hands. Telling me all about how your parents were gonna take you to Piltover for the first time the next day. How you were gonna try every food you’d be able to get your hands on. How you were gonna bring me back a new toolbox. Gods, you were so excited, you were glowing.” A fond, soft chuckle. “I want a future where every child in Zaun can look and feel like that all the time. That’s the kind of future I want to create with Hextech. People like your parents, who will sell their own flesh and blood, who will sell Zaun’s future, for their own gain? They will not be a part of that. Not as long as I have a say in anything Hextech. So please don’t worry.”

Water splashes over the edges of the tub as you shift, straddling him and cupping his face. With glassy eyes and shaky breaths, you bring your forehead to his and whisper your thanks. He gently takes a hold of your forearms as he speaks. “Not for this. Not for anything that has transpired today.” Shaking your head slightly in disagreement, you grab one of his wrists and leave a kiss on his palm. “Yes, for this. For everything you did today. I’d never take that for granted, I’d never take you for granted, but I feel like I don’t actually tell you enough. How glad I am that I have you. How happy it makes me that you decided I’m the person you’d like to share your life with. How fortunate I consider myself to be with someone I can always rely on, no matter what.” His eyes seem to glow in the candlelight, warm honey taking you in with pride and affection as he moves his arms to wrap around you in a loose hug. “I hope you know that feeling’s mutual.” Humming in acknowledgment, you manage to ignore the part of you that disagrees with him. That little, nasty voice in the back of your head is always there, but it’s been getting quieter in recent months, easier to handle. So instead of questioning yourself and wether you truly are a support for him as much as he is for you, you kiss the mole under his eye, run your nose along his sharp cheekbone, press another kiss to the mole right above his mouth and then your lips finally find his, sweet and chaste. “Yeah, I know…” you mumble and kissing becomes virtually impossible with how much he’s smiling so you pull back with an overly dramatic huff to pout.

“So, considering the day did not at all go as planned and your precious order of things got… eh, kicked right out the window: Have you changed your mind on dessert yet?” Truly, it takes you a few very long seconds. It’s the suggestive raise of a thick brow that finally makes all the pieces click into place and the flush of your skin can’t be attributed to the hot water alone anymore as you try to dunk him for that. When that doesn’t work, you settle for splashing him instead, wet bandages and bathroom floor be damned, and try as you might to seem offended, you’re smiling and laughing right along with him. “Oh so that was your intention all along? You’re a fiend; a vile, treacherous fiend, Viktor.” He manages to get a careful hold of your flailing hands, before you hurt yourself further, with one of his own, using the other to push wet hair back and out of his face, some droplets still clinging to his long lashes as he grins up at you. “You wound me, my love, I would never. My only intention with this was to make you laugh. Is that truly such a vile and treacherous deed?”

You’re left gawking at him in awe, because even after all this time, you still can’t fully comprehend how well he knows you. “Well…?” A slender finger pokes your cheek. “Am I still the villain?” Of course he’s not. He never could be. Not in your story, anyways. But you and your wounded pride aren’t quite willing to admit that yet. So you turn your gaze away, cause you can’t possibly stay even fake mad at him if you have to look at his stupid face with that crooked grin you adore so much, before you answer. “Yes, yes you are. A devious, troublesome, terribly handsome—“ Your face scrunches up in annoyance; at yourself and your brain’s inability to function properly around this man and the bastard actually has the audacity to laugh at you while he hugs you closer and tucks his head under your chin so you can’t get another opportunity to soak him yet again. You loop your arms around his shoulders and bury your hands in his hair and fiddle with the wet strands instead.

“Eh, well, at least I’m your villain. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your hold on him tightens, the grip on his hair almost painful, your answer immediate and certain. “Always. I… I’ll always want you. Villain or not.” A tad much maybe, a little silly, you’re only joking around after all, but you can’t help it. You have the love of your life right here in your arms, of this you’re certain, and as long as he still wants you in return, you don’t plan on letting him go. And you’d take any chance to tell him as much.

He doesn’t seem to see it as too much or silly, though. Not with the way he presses a lingering kiss to your chest, right where he can feel your fluttering heartbeat under your wet skin and hums in contemplation and gratitude. “The rest of the world can have me as their villain, as long I get to have you in return.” Carding your fingers through his hair softly, he receives a small chuckle as his answer. “Silly. You already have me.” You use the fingers already tangled in his chestnut locks to tip his head back and get his eyes on you, beautiful amber like a warm, familiar fire. “I’m yours, now and always. And nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Nothing…” he echoes, gaze already on your lips. The kiss is passionate, loving and oh so tender. A newfound promise between lovers, sealed to last an eternity.

[jsbluu]

left on seen | chapter 28: mistletoe by justin bieber

➨ chapter 27: party time pt.2 | left on seen masterlist | next

➨ chapter 28 omg MERRY CHRISTMASSSS BABIESS and happy holidays to those who don’t celebrate christmas 😘 hope you guys like this chapter LOL.. 2114 words isn’t that crazy

TAGLIST: @yizhrt @bococostree @sunghoonsgfreal @dinonuguaegi @ddolbyong @4chensungs @vixensss @jirsungs @luffysprincess @nosungluv @akunoeyebrows @sinsgaybutthatsokay @joyzluvr @n0hyuck @mrsbyun-baek @queenrachelpink @botchedbrat @livingdoll-hara @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @17ericas @cookydream @bitchzitschimi @luciavrseblog-com @minhosprettywife @hyukkstar @kyanmeai @shadysnoopy

the uber ride to sunghoon’s party was filled with light chatter (aka gaon yelling and disrupting the poor driver), but your mind was a million miles away. despite being with your friends, you couldn’t stop thinking about jisung. it had only been a few days since you spoke, but those days had made you spiral into a storm of overthinking. had you gone too far asking him to hangout at your apartment? its not like it was a date, especially after he invited mark along. maybe he sensed your intentions and invited mark to let you know he didn’t see you that way. the thought makes your stomach twist, but you try to shake it off as the party approaches.

“are you excited?” liz asks, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“yeah, i think” you reply, trying to sound enthusiastic, but there’s a slight hesitation in your voice. the idea of talking to jisung again had you on edge.

gaon’s beside you, clearly distracted by his own thoughts. you knew he’d been waiting for an excuse to see sunghoon, and this would be the perfect chance to do so. you smile at him, trying to distract yourself from your own anxiety.

“are you planning on talking to sunghoon tonight” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he blushes a little, glancing out the window shyly like he wasn’t just talking about making out with him 10 minutes ago. “maybe. hes been kinda busy so i haven’t been able to see him recently. but who knows?”

you giggle, nudging him gently with your elbow, “good luck.”

meanwhile, ningning was busy with her phone, the bright light of the screen lighting up her entire face as she smiles. “i still can’t believe chenle asked me to go”

“you guys have been talking for weeks, i’m surprised it took him this long to make a move. i should’ve done it before him…” liz replies, eyeing ningning up and down. you raise your eyebrow at her, holding back laughter to keep the moment going.

“right..” she replies with, looking at liz with an unreadable expression. you giggle and shake your head, looking out the window at the passing christmas lights. its silly, really. you’ve never stayed on campus for christmas before, you always wanted to be with your family and do all the cheesy holiday traditions like usual, but not this year. something about it keeps you here.

as the car pulls up to the house, you notice the sound of music growing louder. the party is in full swing already, and a wave of excitement and dread wash over you at the same time.

“we’re here!” gaon exclaims, practically jumping out of the car.

ningning grabs her bag, throwing you a quick glance. “you okay? you seem kind of distracted.”

you give her a small smile, nodding, “im fine. just.. thinking.”

“about jisung?” gaon teases, catching on instantly, but you quickly shake your head, trying to dismiss it.

“no no, just.. you know, the party. a lot of people are here.”

he raises an eyebrow, patting you on the shoulder. “well i’m sure you’ll be fine. just try to relax and have fun, okay?”

you nod and shoot him a small smile, though it doesn’t feel as easy as it seems.

as soon as you head inside, you scan the area for any sign on jisung. you don’t see him immediately, but you can’t help like you’re waiting for something. as you make your way further into the apartment, you spot chenle and ningning already talking by the dinner table. he’s smiling at her in a way that makes your stomach do a weird flip, but you look away before they notice you staring.

“lets grab drinks first” liz suggests, grabbing your arm and heading towards the counter.

you enter the kitchen, making your way around all of the people standing in the way. gaon follows behind you, admiring the counters covered in various bottles, cans, and half empty solo cups. its noisy, people chatting and laughing around you, but it feels kind of nice. liz immediately grabs a can of soda and hands it to you.

“you’re overthinking again” she teases, nudging your shoulder. “seriously, stop worrying. he’ll either be here or he wont. either way we’ll have fun!”

you glance at her, grateful for her blunt but comforting words. “im trying, its just.. you know, everything is weird right now.”

she shrugs, popping the tab on her drink. “if he’s acting like that, that’s his problem, just have fun, and who knows, maybe you’ll find his replacement” he jokes, smirking at you.

you roll your eyes, a smile escaping your lips despite trying to hide it. “maybe i will” you say, trying to sound confident.

“exactly!” she laughs. “come on, lets go find gaon.”

you’re eventually dragged into a corner of the living room next to the christmas tree, a small break from the chaos of the party. you stand next to gaon, looking somewhat relaxed, he’s a lot quieter than usual. but that’s not surprising since sunghoon is here, and even though this is his party, you haven’t seen him yet.

you let your gaze wander around the room as your sip your drink, trying to let yourself calm down from the anxiety that had been building up for a while. just as you start to settle, something makes you pause.

jisung.

he’s standing near the punch table with mark and leehan, laughing about something. his hair is a little messier than usual, and he’s wearing a sparkly grey sweater, much different than what he usually wears. your heart skips a beat as you watch him. he’s standing there, looking so effortlessly attractive, and you find yourself staring for way too long. you quickly look away, feeling the heat creep up your neck as you avoid eye contact with your friends.

“i.. need some fresh air.” you announce, walking away before anybody could reply. you find yourself walking towards the balcony, and silently thank god that nobody is on there.

jisung watches as you exit the living room, closing the sliding door behind you. leehan follows his gaze and smirks to himself before speaking. “you gonna talk to her?” he asks, his voice low but teasing.

“huh?” he asks, tearing his eyes away from you. his heart speeds up and it’s clear through the tremble in his voice that he’s on the verge of panicking.

mark raises an eyebrow, his tone still teasing, “you’ve been watching her for like 5 minutes straight dude. she’s going outside.. seems like the perfect opportunity.”

his throat feels dry, and his thoughts start to race. he wasn’t exactly planning on talking to you tonight, but he can’t keep pretending like you don’t exist anymore.

“i—uh, no” jisung mutters, his fingers running through his hair showing how stressed he is, “i don’t know, i don’t even know what to say.”

leehan grins, clearly amused by the way jisung is borderline freaking out, “just say you’re afraid to talk to her.”

“i’m not afraid,” jisung responds quickly and sternly, though the slight edge of uncertainty in his voice betrays him. the weight of his words settle over him, and his instincts are telling him to go chase after you and just say something, anything. but he stays still in his place, still letting his thoughts consume him.

“whatever man, just don’t blame us when someone else talks to her.” mark shakes his head, clearly unconvinced by jisung’s words.

he swallows hard at the idea, a pit forming in his stomach at the thought of somebody showing interest in you. he hasn’t even come to terms with his feelings for you yet, so why does this bother him so much? it’s all too confusing for him and all he wants to do is hide in a hole and disappear forever. but he can’t. because he cares about you too much.

he knows you’re not gonna wait around forever for him to accept his feelings, you deserve better than that. but he can’t let anybody else do it before he can.

after a boost of confidence, his feet move before his mind can catch up, and before he even realizes it, he’s walking towards the balcony. each step feels heavier than the last, his palms starting to sweat as he approaches the door.

you’re standing against the railing, the cool december air hitting your face as you admire the christmas lights that are across campus. the way you stand, so quiet and alone, makes all the confidence jisung built up almost completely disappear. you looked so pretty, the lights shining against your face lit up all your features he liked so much, it almost made him forget how to speak.

“hey” he speaks up, his voice thick with uncertainty.

you turn around, immediately recognizing his voice behind you. your eyes widen when you see him, you never thought he’d be the first to reach out after so long. you stand and stare at him for a bit too long before replying. “hi..”

you raise an eyebrow in confusion, and he finally finds his words. “i just wanted to talk to you. to apologize, i should say. i’ve been kind of avoiding you, and i didn’t mean to make things weird.”

a small pause, and your gaze softens. “its okay, jisung. i didn’t really know what was going on either.”

he feels a small pang of guilt when he realizes the weight of his actions. he left you completely in the dark, and he can’t imagine the way you had been feeling the past few days. if he had been all over the place, he had no idea what it could’ve been like for you.

you meet his eyes, and for a second, neither of you say anything. there’s a strange tension in the air, like an invisible force pulling you two closer, but neither of you act on it, you’re just standing in front of each other awkwardly.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now. “i didn’t mean to ignore you. i guess i’ve been overthinking it.”

you smile at him softly, though it’s a little unsure, like you’re trying to figure it out together. “leehan says we have that in common.”

the comment catches him off guard, and for a moment, he just stares at you before letting out a small laugh. it felt awkward at first, but when you laugh too, the pressure subsides.

his eyes flicker away from you, looking upwards when he notices it. a small piece of mistletoe conveniently hung above you two. he freezes for a second, his breath catching in his throat.

you notice his pause and follow his gaze, looking up at whatever caught his attention “what is it?”

he hesitates, his lips twitching likes he’s fighting a smile. “..there’s mistletoe.” he says, pointing upwards with his finger.

you glance up, spotting the small plant above you two. your cheeks warm despite the chill, and when your eyes meet his again, there’s a flicker of something unspoken between you two.

he scratches the back of his neck, his confidence wavering for a moment. he takes a breath and steps closer to you. “maybe..” his voice lowers, quieter now, “maybe this will prove it.”

your breath hitches as his hand comes up to your shoulder, his warm hands sending sparks through your body.

“i-“ you start to say something, but the words get caught in your throat when he leans in.

the kiss is slow at first, his lips were soft and tentative, like he was trying to figure you out. its awkward, you shift slightly, making your noses bump, but when you pull back in a nervous giggle, he doesn’t seem bothered.

“sorry..” he mumbles, his face flushed. “that wasn’t..”

you shake your head quickly, a smile breaking through your nerves. “its okay, it wasn’t bad”

he tilts his head, his hands cupping your flushed cheeks. he softly rubs the skin under this thumb, smiling at you before speaking. “can i try that again?”

you nod and he leans in again with more confidence this time. the kiss is deeper, and more certain than the last. he knew you wanted, needed this as much as he did, and this was the only way to show it. his hands stay cradling your face, your hands wrapping around his torso gently and gripping the material of his sweater as a way of grounding yourself.

jisung’s thoughts are a blur, and yours are no better. but one thing is: neither of you want this moment to end. the way you respond to his kiss, leaning in like you trust him completely. the way he gently holds your face, like if he holds on any tighter you’ll break. everything about it feels right.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he closes his eye for a moment. “that was..” he trails off, letting out a breathless laugh. “better?”

you nod, your voice barely a whisper, “better.”

for a moment, you two stay there, admiring each other’s faces like you’re the only two people in the world. inside, the party continues like before, but you’re way too occupied to care about that right now.

© jsbluu | please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work.

[loveyislost]

mistletoe mayhem

oikawa toru x reader

trigger warnings: kissing, christmas, oikawa is a menace, jokes about murdering him, lmk if i missed any

summary: you’re going to kill your idiot boyfriend

not proofread. at all. can’t stress this enough. literally wrote this in less than five minutes in the car this morning and am copy and pasting it form my notes app. haven’t even read it over.

you were going to fucking kill oikawa toru.

your boyfriend, your sweet, naive, stupid little boyfriend, had decided nothing would be more romantic than to annoy you in the sake of holiday spirit.

the fool, the utter, absolute fool, that was toru, had decided to attach a sprig of mistletoe to a cap, which he had worn around campus all day. in his defense, he thought it was a great idea. a chance to get a kiss from the love of his life everyone you spoke? how could it go wrong?

well, now he was completely baffled. having forgotten about the hat on his head anytime he wasn’t around you trying to score a smooch, he couldn’t understand why every girl he conversed with had leaned over to give him a big smacker on the cheek.

he nodded along, eyes set on the notes from yesterday lecture that the girl was showing him. it wasn’t his fault he had missed the class… again. how was a simple man supposed to go to class when his baby was all warm and snug in his bed due to an opposite class schedule. 

his mind wondered, going back to seeing you all bundled in his blankets, a soft smile, so different form his usual, oh so instigating smirk, appears on his lips.

“….and that’s about it, the notes weren’t exactly complex yesterday. well, anyways merry christmas oikawa-san!” the girl, name always forgotten, leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before walking off.

oikawa sputtered, absolutely flabbergasted. he quickly wiped at his cheek, scrubbing at it with his palm as if it was diseased. “i have a girlfriend you know! and she’d totally kick your ass for that” (no she wouldn’t)

he wondered around for a few more minutes, waiting on your current class to end, grumbling under his breath. something about “people these days, no respect” and “it’s not like i can blame her, this face is irresistible, but still!”, before he sees the door to your class open.

he practically jumps up, starting to hurry over before remembering to look cool.

he slows down immediately, slinking over to the door, hands on his pockets, shit eating grin back on his face.

when you come out, he’s leaning casually against the wall. 

his expression can’t help but slip into a dreamy smile when he lays his eyes on you.

he leans down, the sprig of mistletoe dangling between you. 

“merry christmas angel.”

you just huff out a light laugh, stepping into his warmth. “it’s december first, toru.”

“and?”

you just laugh at him again, at the light pout now gracing his soft lips.

leaning up, your palms cup his warm cheeks, already flushing. as cool as he tries to act, he’ll never not turn into a flustered, blushing boy around you, his love.

your lips press to his, slightly chapped from the cold wind, a smile adorning both of your faces. 

when you pull away, he’s smiling again, mouth dropped slightly open, cheeks pink and eyes half lidded. an absolute mess, just from a brief touch of your lips.

you can’t help but laugh fondly, smoothing a hand over his cheek before pulling away. you tuck your hand into his arm, fingers wrapping around his defined bicep through his sweater, pressing into the warmth of his side as you pull him along with you.

before you can ask him about his day, he suddenly comes back to, his eyes widening drastically. “before you hear anything, i don’t know why they kept kissing me! i swear!”

you freeze, head shooting in his direction, eyes narrowed, and he gulps.

“who kept kissing you?”

oikawa gapes at you for a second, his milky skin paling even further. “all those girls! they just kept on! everyone! don’t kill me, it’s not my fault i woke up looking so handsome today! don’t fault me for  beauty, babe, i was born like this”

you blink up at him slowly for a second, before reaching up and snatching the little branch from his hat, waving it in his face before grabbing him again by the arm, dragging him back along with you. “fucking stupid.”

you roll your eyes, chest warm despite your annoyance, as he keeps rambling, going on and on about how it’s not his fault, why wouldn’t he assume it’s because of his stunning bone structure. besides, the mistletoe was for you. they should have all just known.

you can’t help but snort, yanking his arm closer to you as you pull him along, snuggling into your idiots side. 

[fae-renjun]

...AND EVERY CHRISTMAS AFTER — o.so

PAIRING oh sion x fem!reader ── .✦ GENRE childhood friends to lovers, fluff, very mild angst ── .✦ WARNINGS just kissing, the most fluff i've ever written ── .✦ SYNOPSIS in which you’ve spent every christmas growing up with sion, and if you’re lucky, you’ll spend every christmas after with him too. ── .✦ A/N this is my entry for the @k-films 2024 advent calendar! ── .✦ WC 1.4k+

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 11:27am

It’s Christmas day, and the whole house is alive and in a hurry. Shouts of “mom, where’s my sweater?” and “get out! I need to use the bathroom!” fill the air, drowning out George Michael’s voice in Last Christmas as it plays from the living room speakers. Frantic relatives rush through the hallways past fairy lights and fake wreaths to get ready for the guests to arrive. It’s the first year in your life that the guests haven’t stayed over on Christmas eve. 

“Y/N, can you make me hot chocolate?” shouts Sakuya from the floor above. “Why would I?” you reply to the brother in question. “I’ll do your dishes tonight.” “Deal.”

While you stir away at the two cups of hot chocolate in front of you, it becomes difficult to get your mind off the foreboding you’d felt in the pit of your stomach since waking up that day. You love your family, you really do. Winter break has been beyond fun with your cousins in town. But just this once you wish you could spend Christmas at your friend’s party instead. Just so you could avoid him. You still don’t have it in you to face him. Not after last December.

Almost as if your thoughts hold summoning powers, the doorbell rings, “Kids, come to the living room, they’re here!”

You walk out of the kitchen to face the family of your mother’s best friend, including her son: Oh Sion. The boy you hadn’t seen since new years, when you took a chance and kissed him and he didn't kiss back. The boy who stared back in disbelief after you pulled away which was more than enough to add to your mortification. The boy you’d made every effort to avoid all year.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 24th december 2016, 7:54pm

“They’re so stupid, why would they use that door?”

“The point of the movie is that they’re stupid Sion.”

“Okay, but-”

Before the argument you’re having over Home Alone can go on any longer, your mother shushes both of you, “be quieter, everyone else is trying to watch the movie too.”

You lock eyes with Sion and then both of you turn back to your mother, “Now you’re just lying mom.”

“Yeah Mrs.L/N, it’s a kids movie, none of the adults here care. Not even you.”

“And Saku isn’t even old enough to know what’s going on.”

Your mother reopens her mouth as if to say something, but then seems to change her mind, smiling at the two of you and shaking her head. The two of you turn back to the movie as she turns to Sion’s mom, saying something about how no matter how much the pair of you bickered, you had a habit of standing up for yourselves together. If nine-year-old you cared to listen, you would have heard them say they hoped you two stayed this way forever.

It’s Christmas eve, you’re sitting next to a boy you would realise you loved 5 years later, and your mothers already think you are meant to be. 

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:02pm

Since he got here, you had avoided eye contact, excused yourself to finish making hot chocolate, excused yourself to go to the bathroom, excused yourself to set up the lunch table. Alas, there were only so many excuses you could make before being forced to sit in the living room with everyone else. By some Christmas miracle, when you got there the only open seat was the one right next to Sion.

Sion shifted to the side, making more space for you to sit, but instead you maneuvered yourself to sit on the carpeted floor right next to the Christmas tree. You manage to get through a lot of the wait time before lunch by eating candy, drinking your hot chocolate, only speaking when asked a question (usually “yes my studies are going great” or “yes, I've started looking at a few colleges”), and most importantly by looking everywhere except at him. Yet, your mother just had to shatter your nearly flawless streak of avoidance.

“Y/N, why don’t you get some hot chocolate for Sion too?”

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2021, 1:27am

“Shhh, they’ll hear!” you whisper-yelled at him.

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

You just shook your head in response and reached over to redirect the light from the phone in his hand to the stairs in front of you, tiptoeing down, hoping the wood underfoot won’t creak. The boy next to you grabs your hand with his free one, pulling the two of you closer together than you were before. You stare at the hands and then at his face.

Sion leans to reach your ear to whisper, “I thought I heard something from upstairs.”

All you do is nod in response and continue carefully making your way down. Sion’s face stays close to yours, his hand continues to envelope your own.

You reach the entrance to the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs, turning on its lights. Sion takes his hand off yours, coughing awkwardly as he moves away and turns off his phone's flashlight. You head to the shelf in the furthest corner, getting on your toes in an attempt to reach the cookies right at the top. Sion approaches from behind leaning over you to reach the cookies easily. The gesture and the proximity make your fourteen-year-old heart flutter.

He takes a seat on the floor, placing the cookies down, just as you do the same with the cola you pulled out of the fridge. 

“I can’t imagine a Christmas without you. Or uh- you know. Without all of this,” he says quietly.

“Me neither,” you respond, just as quietly.

It’s Christmas day, you’re sitting on your kitchen floor with a boy, and you’re beginning to realise you may not just have a silly crush on him. You might just be in love. 

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:27pm

The kitchen has always been just out of earshot of the main living room area. The voices of both of your families fade into the background as the two of you walk in, the rapid beating of your heart becoming louder by the second and filling your ears. You start making the hot chocolate as he leans on the counter next to you, trying (and failing) to meet your eyes. 

“You’ve been avoiding me. Not just today, all year. Since new year’s.”

“I don’t really want to talk about new year’s.”

“Hm?” he hums with a questioning tone.

You stop stirring, finally meeting his eyes, “It was just- you know. A mistake. Drank a little too much. Won’t happen again.”

“We only had one beer each that night. I know your tolerance is higher than that. And I’d like it to happen again.”

There’s a pause. You process what he’s just said to you. Sion can tell by the look on your face that the cogs are turning in your head and a smirk begins to form on his face.

“Oh.” 

He nods, then after another pause you continue, “But you didn’t kiss back.”

“Because I was surprised! You’ve got to give a guy a second to figure out what’s going on before you assume the worst,” he shakes his head in mock disappointment while he smiles at your stunned expression, “I was surprised you liked me back.”

“You liked me?” “I might actually be in love with you.”

“Oh,” your voice now reduced to a whisper out of shock, “I might be in love with you too.”

Now your body turns to face him fully, just as his hand moves to your cheek. He leans down, his lips meeting yours as your hands go to his sides, grabbing his sweater. You’ve kissed people before but with Sion it’s different (especially when he kisses back). You pull apart for breath, “Ok now this is our first kiss, the new year's one doesn't count.” You laugh in response, “Deal.”

Sion engulfs you in a hug, the warm kind he’s always given you. His arms wrap around your waist as yours encircle his neck. As you hug the two of you confess how much you missed each other all year. When the hug breaks he kisses you again and you can feel the smile on his lips.

All of a sudden your attention is brought back to your previous task, realising the hot chocolate must be getting cold. Sion watches you with adoration in his eyes as you turn back to the counter to finish stirring. The adoration has always been there, you’re just beginning to notice it.

It’s christmas day, you’re standing in your kitchen with the boy you love, and you finally know he loves you just the same. You’re excited for new years day, and every christmas after, because each one will be spent with him.

© 2024 FAE-RENJUN. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or steal any of my posts. networks: @kstrucknet

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. TW: suicide thoughts.

John’s War

When it begins, it’s subtle. A flutter in his stomach, which later turns into an ache in his heart. He knows it’s wrong, and he desperately tries to fight it. It’s like a war, and he is the only participant. 

John’s been in love many times. Audrey was the first, Bethany the last. And it’s been fine. Normal. Girls seem to like him. He’s got quite the reputation by the time he’s reached sixteen.

***

It all started to crumble when his sister, Harry, came out as a lesbian at fourteen. Their parents had been livid, but Harry came prepared and was totally unfazed. She’d even arranged to stay at her girlfriend’s family, fully aware that her own mum and dad would kick her out if she didn’t retract and started to act normal.

***

Lance was half American, half British. He and his mother had recently moved back to London after almost twenty years in America. The moment John laid his eyes on Lance, the fluttering began. Lance looked like a film star. Golden, curly hair, green eyes, androgyne features, a slender body, strong hands, long fingers. He was everything John wasn’t. Gay, for starters. And he wanted John of all people.

Words John’s father used on such people, played on repeat in his mind:

Faggot. Queer. Degenerate.

John tried to tell Lance, he was straight, but there was no denying how much John wanted Lance to kiss and touch him. His penis reminded him repeatedly and inconveniently every so often of that particular fact.

“John. Stop this. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Lance whispered softly and kissed John’s neck. “Haven’t you heard of bisexuality?”

***

Running away to Afghanistan was the only way forward for John when he couldn’t rescue Lance after his overdose. He felt the need to atone for his lack of observation. 

How had he not seen the self-destructing path Lance was heading down? He was a bloody doctor, for Christ’s sake! Had he been in denial about that too? Didn’t he want to believe that such a talented man Lance turned out to be, could choose to destroy himself just because he failed the interview for the main role in a West End play?

“I’m sorry, darling, but there’ll be other roles. New chances. No one gets them on the first try, surely,” John had tried to reassure his lover, but to no avail.

So, there he was. In Afghanistan where danger lurked around every corner. John was quite startled that he enjoyed the danger so much. He felt alive, thrilled, his broken heart notwithstanding. 

And then, another man invaded his thoughts, and eventually his bed. Major James Sholto.

***

Mike Stamford had never seen a more broken man in his life than John Watson, as he limped past the bench, where he was sitting thinking about Sherlock's words from earlier: 

“Who would want me for a flatmate? I’m a difficult man at best. People hate being around me. Can you imagine someone actually living with me? Who is alive themselves. No, Mike. There exists no such human, I assure you.”

“John! John Watson!” he called out. 

When John just gave him a blank stare, Mike sighed and introduced himself. The response was insulting to say the least. No “oh, nice to see you again, mate,” or “what have you been up to?” There was…nothing.

“Who has left you heartbroken, John?” Mike didn’t say and let John walk away without having said a word.

***

After his meeting with Mike, John finds himself outside Barts hospital. He’s got fond memories from his practise here. With Mike. He winces when he reminisces how rude he was to the jovial man. But it couldn’t be helped. John’s a broken man in so many ways, and he just wants to be left alone. He looks up. Wonders how it would feel to stand on the edge of that roof. Would he dare to jump off it if the opportunity arose? He’s never been afraid of heights. And he longs for the pain to subside. The emotional pain. The pain that scars his heart.

Time eludes him. Why are his knees hurting? He opens his eyes. Is he kneeling on the pavement? Apparently. When did that happen? How long? His thoughts stop abruptly when a warm hand is placed on his good shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

A deep baritone. John perceives a posh accent. The warmth from the man’s hand travel down his spine like lava. 

Radiant. Alluring. Dangerous. 

He lifts his head. At first glance, the man could be Lance’s twin. But then, John realises that it’s only the curly hair and height they have in common. This man’s hair is almost black with tinges of auburn. His eyes are blue, but also green and blue green. The colours are constantly shifting. They’re mesmerising. John wants to drown himself in them.

John stands. He still hasn’t said a word. The man hands him his cane and speaks again.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

For the first time in years John’s first response isn’t to flee. Instead, he straightens his back, lifts his chin and asks:

“How? Tell me.”

The flicker of surprise, quickly followed by insecurity on the man’s face, makes John realise that this can be, if he lets it, a new beginning.

“Go on,” John prompts.

When the man speaks again, John is lost. An ease sets within him, and his heart stops cracking.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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[halfahundredcats]

There are so many times on here when I’ve seen a post where op is relating an astoundingly bad take they’ve seen somewhere, and I’ve always kind of been confused, like where are they even seeing this. I’ve curated my dash within an inch of its life, and I rarely see fandom discourse or drama except posts that (often vaguely) talk about it second-hand.

Well, I understand now, y’all. You probably weren’t seeing it on this hellsite. You were seeing it on a different, worse hellsite (namely, Twitter). Because I’m on Bluesky now, and while it so far seems to be much better than Tweeters, I haven’t yet had the chance to wield my block and filter functions as robustly, and I’m now coming into contact with some of those astoundingly bad takes.

I’ve seen comments on the DJenks Holiday Special Thread saying things like “Oh Stede understands now why Izzy was so mad all the time” and “managing Ed’s whims really is a full-time job,” and just. Fucking. No. No, Stede doesn’t relate to Izzy now because they are very different fucking people with very different fucking relationships with Ed. Being an angry dick has never been Stede’s way of doing things, with anyone, much less Ed. Stede’s brand is Sassy Bitch, and I feel like Ed isn’t even on the receiving end of that very often. Let’s not forget, it’s been two years, and they’re running the inn successfully. Ed is taking joy in setting up a beautiful dining table. He’s bragging *about Stede* when Stede breaks in to ask for his help. This is not a relationship plagued by constant disagreements. It’s not “trouble in paradise.” Ed saying he’s more of a “front of house guy” is clearly Dad slipping in a callback to the bts we all enjoyed so much. (Now it’s true that Ed is kind of ADHD-ing it in these scenes, hyperfocusing on setting the table and getting distracted in his storytelling instead of noticing Stede is slammed. I did see someone say that Stede is going to use his Captain Voice, and that definitely feels like the vibe to me.) It’s not like they’re never going to have little disagreements, but these two didn’t literally fight their way back to each other to be undone by the mundane pressures of running a small business together. And why would you want them to? Why would you want to look at this grand and beautiful love story and think “but consider how cool it would be if they ended up hating each other?” Do you watch The Princess Bride and enjoy imagining Westley and Buttercup’s eventual divorce? Not everything has to be drama and cynicism and people being terrible to each other. I especially do not think that David Jenkins is taking his Barbies in that direction in his fanfic of his own show.

I’m putting this here instead of responding to ppl on Bsky because I really *don’t* want to get involved in the Disc Horse. I’m just blocking ppl on there whose takes I don’t like. That is ultimately the way to enjoy your fandom. Focus on the stuff you like, don’t get bogged down arguing with haters. So this is probably the only thing I’ll say about this. Anyhoo!

[kingofbodyrolls]

Bangtan Christmas ‘24 | Masterlist

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! ❄️🎄

As the twinkling lights of the season surround us, I hope you’ve found some warmth and joy in the fics shared over these past 24 days. Whether you’ve devoured them all or haven’t had the chance to dive in yet, don’t worry—I’ve saved the best for last. This special rec list is my gift to you, filled with winter and Christmas-themed stories that bring me endless joy every year 🥰 It contains the fics I’ve reblogged all throughout December, BUT—also many stories that I sadly didn’t have the time to read, but was on my Christmas to read list. Sometimes life just hits you… and I really wanted to include them to make the most spectacular rec list ✨

I know some of these gems have made appearances on my blog before, but their brilliance never fades—like the soft glow of a winter snowfall, they’re just as magical every time. These stories are so breathtaking, I could shout about them until my voice becomes a whisper in the frosty air. So, please, from the bottom of my heart, take a moment to show these incredible authors some love 🎁 They’ve poured their time and creativity into crafting these beautiful tales for us, and it’s truly a gift we’re lucky to receive.

A kind comment, a heartfelt message, even a simple like or reblog—it all makes a difference. You never know how much warmth a few words can bring to a writer’s heart, especially during the cold days of winter. And even if some of them are on hiatus and don’t respond, know that your appreciation is felt.

Before we dive into this treasure trove of stories, I want to take a moment to say an enormous thank you to all the writers out there. Your words weave wonders, creating characters and worlds that have made me smile, cry, and above all, feel deeply. If your story is on this list, know that I’ve read it more times than I can count—it’s that extraordinary. So, thank you for crafting such brilliant art with your writing. You are a gift to this community, and we’re all better for it 💜

Now, let’s cozy up and explore these winter wonders together ❄️✨

Because these rec lists are so long, I’ve decided to separate them into each member (I really hope you don’t mind!).

Namjoon

Seokjin

Yoongi

Hoseok

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Please show all of the guys’ list some love, okay? 🥹

I truly hope you find joy in diving into all these wonderful stories! 🥰 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to explore this rec list. I couldn’t resist creating another one—I’ve missed it dearly. I know some of you enjoyed the monthly rec lists, so I hope this little collection brings a spark of joy to your holiday season.

If this list has brought a smile to your face, I kindly ask that you consider reblogging it. The more it’s shared, the more people can discover these incredible stories, and together, we can spread even more holiday cheer to the talented writers who make this season a little more magical with their words ❄️✨

Hello, lovely people! I’m Lissa, both a reader and a writer at heart. Though I don’t write much fanfiction these days, my love for reading and recommending fics burns as bright as ever. If you’re looking for more Bangtan fanfics to cozy up with, you’re more than welcome to follow me, or simply explore my rec library. There’s always something special waiting for you.

With all my love, and borahae always 💜

[highonmarvel]

Heyy love your work. I wanted to make a request for Bucky Barne was thinking something like reader goes to his house for Christmas but then he forcefully drugs her with a syringe and she's held captive. But he's overal nice enough. He'd let her kick or scream or fight back. But then one day he lets her out of the basement or wherever he keeps her and she tries to escape and succeeds to some degree He manages to catch her and he snaps, gets angry and punishes her and she's scared cuz he snapped.

Winter

i love this! i’m sorry this isn’t proofread—i’m late as is and needed to get this out into the world so at least some people can read this as they lie in bed and have it be relevant. also, i’m so sorry, i left out the syringe bit because i got too into the plot i conjured up with the food coma here, sorry, sweetheart, but please, send another request if you really want to see it get done. let me know your thoughts, also to my sister @thehydraethereal. with that out of the way:

Bucky Barnes: A Christmas dinner opens your eyes to a new type of Winter.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of torture. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are not comfortable with explicit descriptions of physical violence. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I can not stress this enough. I am fucked up.

It wasn’t that you were technically averse to relationships or had commitment issues, you just feel like at this point in your life a solid relationship wasn’t really going to work. You had been travelling to the other side of the country quite a bit to take care of your sister, but this Christmas, your parents went down, so you didn’t really have an excuse to bail when Bucky invited you to dinner.

You don’t think you’re technically dating him–you don’t ever recall you or him asking the other to be their partner–but you’ve at least been going out with him for a few months. Guess you’d have to face him at some point; it’s been nearly three weeks since he had suggested you live together, which had caught you completely off-guard. You had managed to side-step the conversation at the time before making up some bullshit excuse to leave, and you haven’t had the courage to face him since.

Pulling into Bucky’s driveway always makes you feel a little uneasy; he doesn’t live like a hermit or overly secluded, but for some reason the houses in this suburb seem just a little too far apart for comfort–no one really has ‘neighbours.’

The scent of a very well-cooked meal carries right up to the front door, making you take a deep whiff before knocking.

“Hi, honey,” Bucky answers the door, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“God, I’m practically drooling out here,” you say, and Bucky laughs as he steps out of the way and allows you in. “How long have you been standing?”

“Ah, a few hours,” he admits, sheepishly, watching you hang your coat up and rubbing the back of his neck when you raise your eyebrows at him.

“But it’s just the two of us, no?” you question as you lead him into the kitchen (maybe you being so casual in his home gave him the impression you’d like to move in with him).

“Yeah,” he replies, tailing you. “But I realised I don’t really know what you like and I panicked a bit.”

You giggle and that seems to ease his apparent embarrassment, allowing him to let out a breathless laugh as he moves into the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as you settle on a stool.

“How have you been?” he inquires as he pours you a glass of wine, not making eye contact.

“Alright,” you reply, watching the red liquid slosh into the glass. “Glad to have some time off.”

“How’s your sister?”

You sigh and mouth a thank you to him as he slides the glass towards you. After a sip, you look up at him. “Better, I think, and she’s only allowed two visitors at a time–my parents really wanted to see her so I let them for Christmas, they don’t really get a chance otherwise.”

He hums in understanding as he puts on pink oven mitts and crouches down.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks loudly as he pulls a dish out of the oven.

You shrug. “I’d have liked to go, but I’m not all that sad about it. I don’t have much going for me in New York, so I was worried I’d be bored, but I’m having a good time.

“You just got here!” He laughs as he rises with a turkey.

“I know, but wine.” You raise your glass to him and peer into the ceramic dish. “Turkey?” you ask, which he responds to with a hum of affirmation.

“I don’t really like it, not sure if you do.”

“I like it. I would have thought you patriots like Thanksgiving stuff, though.”

You help him set up a few dishes across a small dining table and sit down.

“This was really sweet, Bucky.” You smile, tone sincere and nearly sappy as he cuts you a large leg of turkey. “Doesn’t this stuff make you sleepy?” you joke, and it takes him just a beat too long to chuckle.

“I think that’s a myth, actually,” he responds as he sits back down across from you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows as you dig your knife and fork into the leg. “I could have sworn...”

“Is it good?” he asks, watching you carefully, and with a kind of interest that makes you slightly uneasy, but you can’t deny it’s heavenly. You nod enthusiastically and point to the meat.

“God, this is great! You’d swear there was cocaine in here or something.”

Something lights in his eyes for a second, a spark you mistake for happiness. Bucky has always loved nothing more than to see you happy and relaxed: one of the reasons you were so drawn to him was his genuine desire to not only make you as happy as possible, but to appreciate that joy. Sometimes you got the impression making you happy pleased him almost as much as it pleased you, if not more. And it was times like these you felt bad you weren’t really able to make a commitment to him. He never seemed to mind it all too much, but you can tell it’s something he wants, and you almost feel like you’re taking advantage of his affection–but he knows, and you know, and if he isn’t happy with this arrangement, surely he’d say something.

But Bucky has to bite back the retort, “Well, not that drug.”

After a hearty meal you only put down when you feel you’re genuinely on the verge of passing out, you push away your plate. “Woo! I don’t know how I’m ever gonna work that off. I think I’ve gained, like, 10.”

“You're perfect the way you are,” Bucky says, leaning down to press his lips to your cheek as he clears the table.

You close your eyes and hum in delight, but you find it a little hard to open them again. When you manage to pry your eyes open again, it’s not much, still looking at the table through droopy lids. You stand and sway, rattling your chair as you grapple the table for support.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks as he reappears in your line of sight, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” you respond, squeezing your eyes shut and ripping them open again. “But I really should get going.”

“Get going?” he repeats, moving to your side for support as you stumble forward. “I don’t think you should drive right now.”

But you dismiss him with a wave of your hand, pushing off of him to stand up straight. You think you say, “I’m fine. I’ll call you.” but you can’t really make out the words through the slight slurring.

“Lie down,” he offers gently, taking a step towards his bedroom.

“No…” you tear your arm free of his grasp. You had spent the night with him before, but for a reason you can’t figure out, this time, something is screaming at you to decline.

“Really, darling, you need to,” he insists, his voice having dropped to a low murmur. He takes a step forward and you instinctively take a step back, feeling a little guilty when he stops dead in his tracks and something like hurt flashes across his features. You know something that makes Bucky wince is when he feels someone is afraid of him, and you can only imagine how he must feel now if you’re the one displaying apprehension.

You shake your head and turn away from him to the doorway.

“Hey...” You startle as you feel his grip on your forearm, gentle, but firm. “You’re not leaving.” The words are said in a sincerely concerned way, but the fact the statement came off as more of a command than a suggestion really triggers something in you.

“Bucky...” you groan as you uselessly try to pull away, feeling weaker than you otherwise would, even against him.

He doesn’t have to give too sharp of a tug to make you stumble into his arms, his hold on you steady, and, at any other time, safe, but now it feels more certain, somehow, almost possessive. You try to protest but you’re practically babbling incoherently under him, head lolled to the side as he adjusts his grip from under your arms to pick you up bridal style.

“Just lie down for a second...”

And you’re too out of it to notice he’s passed his bedroom door.

***

It’s difficult to open your eyes again, your lashes stuck together as you turn your head over. When vision slowly comes back to you, you’re met with a midcentury wooden bedside table you don’t recognise. You prop yourself up on your forearm and squint into the room, looking for any signs of familiarity, and the only thing you recognise is the thing you dread.

“What…” you begin to mutter, and Bucky looks up from the book he’s reading with a smile.

“You’re up.” He stands from the chair positioned by ‘your’ (this isn’t your bed) beside and moves to sit on the edge, placing a hand to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You weakly slap his hand away as you start to really wake up and realise what’s going on.

“I’m not… this isn’t… what…” you can’t really find the words to ask the questions you need answers to.

“It’s your Christmas present!” he says with a grin, standing to make a grand gesture with his arms, out to the room. I’ve got your favourite books here, I remember you telling me you used to want a four poster princess bed.” He points to the ceiling and sure enough, pretty curtains hang over your head. “But if you don’t like it I can change it.” He shrugs and stands somewhat nervously as he waits for you to react.

“What… the fuck.”

He tsks and swings his arms back and forth, rocking on his heels.

“I set it up for you a few weeks ago, I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable sleeping with me every night, I know you like your space.”

“Are you out of your mind!?” You throw the sheets off of you and manage to stand, even though your head feels a little heavy.

He sighs and steps forward. “I know it feels like–”

“Oh, you know what it feels like? You know what it feels like to be ostensibly kidnapped by your boyfriend?”

He blushes. “So I am your boyfriend.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You throw a pillow at him (ineffective but it was the nearest thing) which he catches with ease and turns over to reveal an embroidered flower. “I made this,” he says, proudly.

“What the fuck!?” you shriek as you throw another pillow at him, this one he dodges easily.

You’ve never seen him like this, nearly giddy and, in this context, borderline delusional. It makes you grip onto your hair and bunch your fingers into the locks. “Oh, my god, you’re insane!”

“I’m not the one yelling and throwing things,” he mutters, and your eyes snap up to his.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you begin, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry I don’t react well to crimes committed against me.”

“You came into my house.”

“Yes, but I didn’t come into this room! Do you really expect me to believe I can just leave anytime? That that door isn’t locked. You think I’m fucking stupid?”

He gently tosses the pillow back onto the bed and winces. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Bucky,” you begin, carefully, voice dangerously low as you step up to him. “I don’t know what in god’s name has gotten into you, but I’m not having it. I’m leaving.”

“Sweetheart, you really don’t intimidate me.” And the way he says it with such sincere pity makes you shove at his chest. He doesn’t stumble, but he takes a step back for your benefit.

You match his step and poke your finger in his chest, glaring up at him with more fury than you thought you had and trying your hardest not to wrap your hand around his throat. What really pisses you off is his patronising speech; you can tell he genuinely thinks he’s doing good, and that he honestly feels bad that you can’t appreciate it, that you’re weaker than him, and it boils your blood. Apathy or even mockery would be better than this condescending way he’s deluded himself into believing this is for your benefit.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you piece of shit. If that door is locked, you’re gonna unlock it, and you’re going to leave me the fuck alone.” You practically spit the words at him through gritted teeth, seething to the point you can feel heat radiating from your body and wouldn’t be surprised if there was literal steam coming out of your ears.

“Sit down, angel.”

“Talk to me like that again and there will be nothing angelic about what I do to you.”

“Your mother called.”

That gets your attention and your anger dissipates for a moment. “Really? What did she say?”

When he guides you to sit down, you’re not really in the space to fight him off, waiting to hear any news from your family.

“They’re coming down in a few days, for New Year’s, and, they’re bringing your sister–they say she’s stable enough for travel.”

You feel your eyes begin to water at the thought of your sister being that strong, of being able to talk to her like you used to, before she got sick. But you snap out of it, and that swelling in your heart turns to something close to anxiety, but closer to suspicion. “Why are you telling me this?”

He scoffs as if you’re asking him if the sky is blue. “Because I know you want to see them. I told them they could stay with us for a few days.”

“With us?”

He just blinks. “Yes, with us.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think…” And the next few hours are spent with you screaming in his face, swinging punches which he easily dodges, but sometimes he humours you and allows you a hit–not like it hurts anyway. His calm demeanour and ‘care’ makes you infuriated beyond belief, and by the end of the night the room has been trashed, there are scratches on the door from your desperate clawing and pounding, your voice is hoarse from all the yelling, and you’re exhausted while Bucky is no more beaten than when you first woke up.

Eventually, you’ve physically exhausted yourself so much you can’t even push him away when he climbs into bed next to you and holds you in his arms, placing your head against his chest and caressing your hair, which he knows always relaxes you and helps you fall asleep.

***

You only know it’s morning when you wake up because Bucky greets you with it, but it doesn’t take long for your attention to fall to the walls, noticing there aren’t any windows.

“We’re in the basement, you know.” Bucky comments, watching your eyes dart around the room and catching on to what you’re doing. “I don’t have a spare room, you know that.”

You’re nearly tired of glaring daggers at him seeing as he doesn’t really feel it–if anything, it seems to spur him on, like he doesn’t really care what you do as long as he gets some kind of reaction out of you. If you remained as stoic as he did, maybe that would give him pause for thought, but you really can’t resist the urge to attack him, and he somehow sees it as endearing, like any attention you give him makes his heart swell.

Initially, you refuse his invitation for breakfast upstairs, but when that morning grumpiness subsides, you let your stubbornness fall away in favour of opportunity. This really solidifies in your mind Bucky is so convinced you’ll stay that he doesn’t really worry about turning his back on you as he flips an egg.

“Where’re you going?”

You stop dead in your tracks, shocked he had heard you get up when you were practically sneaking like a cartoonish villain.

“To the bathroom,” you lie, to which he responds with a simple, “Okay.”

It’s too easy, but you’d rather take your chances than wonder if this is some kind of setup. You have to get out of here as soon as possible, so you don’t have time to look for your car keys, but you hesitate at the door. It’s beginning to snow, and you’re not dressed anywhere near enough to make it to a neighbour–the only thing that had kept you warm before coming up to see him was that nice coat, but it’s not on the rack anymore.

There’re only a few locks you have to turn to quietly open the door, your teeth chattering as a cold breeze hits you so hard it’s painful, like your skin is literally freezing onto your bones. You’re barefoot, no less. You can’t kid yourself into thinking you won’t lose a toe or some extremities in the process, but you can not stay. It really has only been one night, but something you’ve never liked in your life is being trapped, makes your skin crawl to the point you’d rather shed it than be deprived of freedom, especially when you’ve got the chance to see your family soon. And besides, it’s really not that long of a walk to the next house, you won’t die out there, but you can only vaguely make it out through the snow, and if you scream, it’ll surely be drowned by the harsh winds. With one last glance behind you, you step into the snow, and instantly regret it, your feet set close to frozen in just a few seconds, and goosebumps rising so quickly across your skin it feels like you’ve suddenly broken out in hives. And just as you consider turning back, you’re shoved forward, and you shriek as you land face first in the snow, afraid of crying at the impact lest your tears turn to ice right on your cheeks.

You’re gripped by the arm and pulled upright, before being again pushed further away from the house you can feel radiating warmth just through the open door. You gasp for air as you manage to bring yourself to your hands and knees, fingers curling into the snow and slowly becoming numb. A harsh gust blows, nearly knocking you off balance, and you squint to look up at the door, Bucky standing before you in little more than a long-sleeved t-shirt (he’s more underdressed than you) and sweatpants, hair still a little messy with sleep, but the look in his eyes, it’s a look you’ve never been on the receiving end of–in fact, you’ve never even seen it, but you can recognise it immediately.

“You forget I’m the Winter Soldier.” You’re not sure how his deep growl manages to carry across the howling of the winds, but you don’t have time to figure it out before a metal hand grips a fistful of your hair and you’re dragged through the snow, instinctively trying to plant your feet in the ground to stop him but even if you could match his strength, the cold is unbearable, and your legs are starting to feel numb, yet still stiff.

You don’t have time to be grateful that you’ve been thrown back into warmth as you slide across the floor and Bucky kicks the door shut behind him. From a hallway table, he pulls out a wrench, and you struggle to get your arms and legs to move away from him as he approaches you, menacingly.

You don’t know how such slow and heavy footsteps manage to catch up to you so quickly, but soon he’s got his boot pressing down on your ankle, preventing you from doing more than thrashing around. He leans down and grips your face roughly, forcibly pulling you up to meet him, and his eyes are so void of emotion he nearly looks dead. He doesn’t look angry, he looks like he just can’t feel.

“I do all this for you, and you can’t even offer me a pretty little smile.” His large fingers reach into your mouth, pulling your lips and teeth apart wide, wide enough for him to shove the wrench into your mouth and attach it to one of your teeth. “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Maybe you’ll appreciate it more if it just wasn’t the same.” You feel your gum twist and let out a cry, gurgling through your throat. Your frail fingers grasp onto his wrist as you desperately try to shake your head, but his strong hold prevents you from it. He twists a little more and you squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath, before he eventually pulls out and you gasp for dear life, tears stinging your vision.

He roughly tugs you up and practically throws you into a nearby chair, before taking your hand with surprising gentleness, caressing your hurting fingers with the back of his for a moment before adjusting his grip to bring the wrench back forward.

“Now this is no good…” he remarks, moving his head to see more of your frostbitten marks you’re sure will leave scars. “You know what happens to these?” The wrench attacks itself to your index finger and Bucky adjusts its width so it’s threatening to chop your finger right off.

You scream at him to let go, kicking at his legs gets no reaction out of him, but don’t dare to move the hand he’s still holding.

“What if I just…” He twists only slightly and your skin breaks, blood seeping down from your frayed skin and dripping onto your thigh.

Just as you’re about to let out an unstoppable shriek of pain, Bucky’s metal hand presses to your mouth, stopping the sound going any further than echoing off his palm for only you to hear again. He twists more and you move your wrist with it, trying anything to stop him from twisting your finger off. He notices this and removes his other hand from your mouth to hold your wrist firmly in place.

“Bucky, please–”

“Shut up!” he shouts, his hold on you tightening even further. He lowers his face to yours with wide eyes, jaw clenched impossibly tight, and speaks in a dangerously low register, his voice trembling with fury as he tries to hold it together, at least in demeanour if not in action. “You really fucked up, and if you don’t have any fingers, you won’t be able to open my door ever again.”

✪

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10, @mybabygirllove]

[spellwell]

secrets - dick grayson

dick grayson x reader one shot

fluff; sfw

warnings; none. characters may be out of character, this is my first time writing for them and I haven’t seen young justice in a while. Not edited well lol

universe: young justice

summary; Dick likes you, and you like Dick, it’s obvious. The only people that don’t seem in on it, are the both of you, the rest of young justice seems to have a plan to fix that.

By this point, you and the group of now nearly young adults have gotten quite close, you could even say they are like family. Every member seems to have their own very special relationship with you that has grown over time and nothing has quite as much value as that. Your relationship with Dick how ever, is probably the closest connection you’ve ever had. From the very start you took to him, finding his humor and opinions fit just right with your own, and everyone else has seemed to notice that as well. M’gann has always pushed the idea of you and Dick being more than friends, which you’ve admitted liking the idea of. Alas, your nerves have created a large pool of anxiety to sit at the bottom of your stomach at the simple idea of conveying your feelings to him.

“He obviously likes you back, in love even!”

“You’re nervous for no reason, what if someone else comes along? Don’t you want to secure him?”

“If you don’t tell him me and Conner will!”

“Oh come on y/n, why don’t you believe me?! He totally wants you!”

You’ve heard it all really, her begs and pleads, trying to reason with you to just gain the courage and tell him. Little does she know, it isn’t that easy and over time she’s seemed to give up. You’re not sure why you have such a hard time believing he would feel the same way, Dick is just so special and the chance that he doesn’t feel that way can’t be taken.

Other than that, everyone is very open and honest with each other, maybe even too open some times. That’s why their behavior’s have been… odd the past few days. Whispering, huddling, and glances to the side have made you question if there’s something wrong, but when you’ve asked they all say everything is fine and not to worry. Little did you know, they had a plan to fix this on-going back and forth between you and Dick.

“I actually can’t stand you, quit winning!” Aqua-lads laughing could be heard over Wally’s moaning and groaning. “Maybe if you were better at this game, you’d win.” Mg’ann walks over to you with a sheepish grin, motioning with her head over to the boys arguing on the couch. “How many times have they played this game today?” She asks, causing you to sigh and shrug your shoulders. “Today, you mean in the last week? Kid’s never going to win.” You both laugh and walk over to the couch, standing behind it to watch the boys start their new match. You could care less about the game, but watching Wally squirm always makes you laugh.

Conner makes his way into the room after a while of watching them argue, after Wally of course loses again. “Won’t you go a little easier on me dude, seriously it’s not even fun any more!” Conner throws his arm around the Martian next to you, rolling his eyes at the childish behavior. “You still wouldn’t win, if it’s not fun anymore how could you keep playing it? I could hear you shrieking from my room.” Wally whips around and shoots Conner a deadly look, one that seemed to not phase the super boy. “Oh yeah? You try beating this fish freak then!” Conner gives his girl friend a small peck on the cheek before hopping the back of the couch and taking a seat next to the boys. They began a new game and started at it, tension filling the room. “I don’t wanna be in here when Conner wins.” You said, walking off with a chuckle. Your best friend follows behind you, both of you heading back to the kitchen to snack on the grapes you’ve been picking at for the last hour.

Days like this, no missions, no jobs to do, tend to bore you all but the boys arguing always make the days go by faster.

The base announces that Robin has finally arrived, making you sigh in relief that there’d be someone to break it up when Wally finally loses his mind. “What did I miss?” His voice rings through the kitchen, making you smile. You turn to see him, his usual comfortable get up that he wears when he’s not actively Robin. “A whole lot of nothing.” You sigh out as he walks over and pops a grape in his mouth. You had gotten the green ones because you know they are his favorite, “green, my favorite.” He grins, walking over to the couch after stealing a few more. “Robin!” Wally yells with a grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his best friend arriving. “You’re here! They’ve been kicking my ass 1v1, you gotta jump in!” Dick takes no time hopping on the couch and grabbing a controller making you roll your eyes. All these boys do are play games in their free time, or spar with eachother when they are tired of that.

A few hours later, they decided they had enough of the silly games and wanted to eat. Being the good team mate and friend that you are, you decided to cook them something, feeling extra nice. They all sat on the couch, chatting and giggling while you slave away in the kitchen. You were left with your thoughts and the sound of bacon sizzling on the pan until Dick appeared behind you, watching the bacon cook. “Hey.” You nearly jump out of your skin, turning to see a chuckling Robin. “Scare you?” He said with a smirk, a gleam shining from his iconic sunglasses. You roll your eyes and softly smack him across the arm, “no.” He chuckles to himself again, grabbing the tongs from the counter and flipping a few pieces on the pan that needed it. “You can go sit down if you want, y/n.” A small blush threatens to crawl onto your cheeks, but your pride won’t let it. Dick is the only one that ever offers to help you cook, and you’ve always found that so sweet. “No, we can do it together.” You said, smiling up at him which he quickly returns.

As the bacon cooks and you listen to Dick talk about his day before arriving, you notice the racket from earlier had subsided… too much. From the kitchen, you look over to eye your friends on the couch who seem to be whispering like they have been for the last week. What on earth? Why do they keep doing that? Since when do we keep secrets? You decide to ignore it and focus back on what Dick is saying, along with the food that he just finished up. “Come get it!” He yells from beside you, turning off the stove and walking the pan over to the table. You find yourself forgetting the whispering, and instead begin to think about how sweet Dick truly is to you and the rest of the team, but especially you. Wally comes rushing in, everyone else following behind. “Thanks Rob.” He says with a grin before sitting down to munch and crunch. Everyone else takes a seat, including you. “Don’t thank me, thank y/n.” Dick said with a sheepish smile, taking a seat across from you and Wally.

Kid smirks to himself, leaning over and giving you a small peck on the cheek. “Thanks, y/n.” This is the first time he’s ever done something so flirtatious with you, besides his usual boyish humor. A small blush does creep onto your cheeks this time, a gulp attempting to swallow your confusion. “Yeah, no problem.” Dick seems to eye Wally, like he was also confused on why he did that but it was left at that, dinner commencing.

After everyone talked and ate, you decided that sitting and watching a movie would be fun and relaxing. The movie carried on normally, how any watch fest with the team would until Wally’s arm seemed to drape over your shoulder loosely half way through the movie. To be honest, you didn’t even notice it at first, until you felt him scoot a little closer on the couch. That was when you felt the weight of his arm, even a little tug to get you closer. Just like the behavior at the table this confused you, and flustered you at the same time. The feelings you have for Dick have never been something you’ve had for Wally, and you never thought he liked you like that either. You felt a pair of eyes staring into your forehead, which by investigation was Dick, who had a look on his face at what you assumed was the arm around you. No body else looked over or said anything, like this was normal and the movie is just that good, which it’s really not. You also let the arm thing slide, that was until about ten minutes later, you feel Kid’s hand begin to rub circles onto your upper arm. “Wally? What are you doing?” You ask calmly, scooting away a tad and glancing his direction. “Yeah Wally, what are you doing?” Dick’s voice comes from the other side of the couch, laced with irritation. “Oh I’m sorry y/n, am I not allowed to touch you?” Wally asks, softly, ignoring Robin. You go to open your mouth and respond but another voice cuts you off. “No. You’re not.” Dick’s voice sounds even darker than before, a look of disgust on his face. Wally’s lips turn into a smug smirk, his arm leaving your shoulder. “You’re not y/n, why not let her answer?” He says, now turning to you. Everyone’s eyes seem to be on you, some looks of intrigue like they want to know the answer and others just enjoying the show it seems. “Her answer is no.” Dick responds again before you can speak, but it isn’t like you knew what to say. Dick stands up and walks over, taking a quick seat on the other side of you. “What’s your sudden interest in y/n, huh? What makes you think she’d want you?” Wally smirks at him, that usual snarky little face he gets when he knows he has started something. “Why do you care so much, Rob? Jealous?” The idea of him being jealous makes a blush appear on your cheeks for the second time tonight. He tuts his lips at Wally’s question and sits back, arms crossed. “No.” This makes your heart ache a bit, but you decide to sit back and watch the screen again, happy to see everyone else finished with that conversation and do the same.

-

That night had ended, and the next day comes, starting like most days, until it got later and someone was missing. The night before everyone had decided to sleep there, but you watched as Dick left early, not saying a word to anyone. You know him well and this is very much unlike him, but no body seemed to bring it up.

After worrying about it all day, the base announces that Robin has arrived, making everyone who is currently sitting on the couch, look over in the direction he’s expected from. He comes in, seeming a bit more like himself as he starts talking to everyone about something Bruce was telling him this morning.

Wally had been normal all day, no incidents happening like yesterday, which makes you even more confused about the whole thing.

“Do you want to cook again, or are we ordering food?” M’gann asks, clearly having food on the brain. “Let’s give this babe a break and order something.” Wally says, motioning over to you. Babe? Why is he flirting with you? You go to tell him to knock it off honestly, you don’t get why he’s flirting with you, but M’gann and Conner interrupt, going on about what to order. You notice Dick go quiet after this, as do you. Wally’s hand comes down and rests on your knee, your eyes quickly darting down to it. Another pair of eyes seem to do the same, Dick’s eyes. He gets that same expression as he did last night, but this time he also looks… sad? Before you can move his hand, which you were about to do, Dick quickly stands up, but only you seemed to notice. His fist quickly made contact with Wally’s face, making him fall back into the couch. It was so quick, and it definitely caught everyone’s attention. “Hey!” Wally yells as he presses his hand to his own face, which was probably on fire. “You fucking knew!” Dick yelled, fists clenched. “You’ve always known how I feel about y/n and you have the nerve to go after her- in front of me!” Your face goes into shock, completely taken aback by what he said. “How dare you.” He says very seriously, but sadness laced his words. Before anyone could speak he storms off, in the direction of the room he stays in when he’s here. The room goes silent, eyes all quickly darting away from eachother. “I’m sorry, I set this up, I didn’t know he would get so upset.” M’gann finally spoke, making everyone look in her direction. “He wants to kill me.” Wally sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. You feel very confused and now borderline frustrated, finally you speak. “What’s going on?” You say, tone confused but firm. “What did you do?” You say, looking at M’gann. “It wasn’t just her, we planned it. We wanted one of you to confess your feelings so we set it up to make Rob jealous and confess, we didn’t know he would freak out on him.” Conner said from next to her, a guilty look painting all their faces. This has all been so confusing it just now hits you that, Dick likes you back.

“You have to go talk to him, I’ll take the beating for it later.” Wally says with a small side ways grin, making you sigh, a flustered feeling coating your stomach. “Okay…” You said softly, going to stand and walk in the direction he went.

You took your sweet time, feeling nervous, what do you say? A solid knock on his door is all you have the courage to do, but he doesn’t respond. You stand there for a moment, frozen in fear before you build up the courage to do it again. “What.” Is all you hear, flat and hurt. “Can I come in, Rob?” You say softly, hand on the door. It stays quiet before you hear a shuffle and the door open. You push your way in softly, seeing his figure stand next to the door, closing it behind you. “Do you really want Wally?” He asks, in a point blank tone, an expression you’ve never seen on his face. Your eyes widen in surprise, an answer stuttering out. “What? No.” You could tell from his eyes that he actually cried a bit, making you feel worse. “He- he didn’t mean it! It was just to get one of us to admit we like eachother.” His eyes now widened, picking up on the fact that you just admitted to feeling the same way he did the whole time. “So you don’t want him?” He asks, face softening much more than before. You shake your head, twiddling your fingers down at your waist, “no, I want you.” His eyes seemed to light up instantly, a grin appearing against his will.

“Yeah?” He said, a grin also quickly appearing on you as well. “Yeah.” It seemed like he’d never make a move, nervousness still covering his face so you move in closer and grab his jaw, gently placing a kiss on his lips. It doesn’t take but a second for you both to melt into each other, his hands coming to hold your waist. He pulls at you to come closer, a hum of satisfaction leaving his lips. This led to some more long awaited kissing, both of you clearly relieved to finally have what you’ve always wanted. He pulls away eventually, looking down at you with admiration in his eyes and swollen lips.

“I totally knew you’d want me and not a guy who sucks at video games.”

- end

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love, spell.

[ryuzakemo128]

MDNI 18+ Omegaverse Part 3

cw: isolation, cold weather, injuries, lovely things, overprotective price. mature language. angst.

Omegaverse Parts: Part One + Part Two + Part Three

wc: 1311

Price noticed you were no longer on the base, all that working trying to find you all gone to waste because of General Shepard. His frustration grew each day you were gone. Each day you weren’t around the four. Did it matter that it was only a week? Fuck no.

What did the General hope would happen? Delay the inevitable? What kind of foolish man did they take Price for? When he found out you were sent down from a helicopter in the dead of night to Siberia? His blood began to boil. His temper began to rise higher levels.

The man was a monster, and you were his latest victim. The medical results came in. Not that you would ever get the chance to see them. To know what you are. Why people were so keen on taking you or killing you, or both. Not just a weapon, either.

“You can’t do that. You have no right to enforce that. It’s against protocol to send out an unknown operative.” Price argued. He tried making him see the error of his actions. He had to. Not many others were willing to stand up for you. He had to save you.

“Protocol can go to hell, Price. She’s special. The intel says so. We need her. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure she’s safe and on our side. Even if it means throwing her to the wolves and seeing if she comes back to us. That’s an order, Captain!” Shepard’s voice was cold, final. The conversation was over.

The medical evaluation you received years before your imposed, forced exile had always eluded you. Your results never even reached your own hands. They left you there in the middle of the forest with your Barrett M82, SIG Sauer P226, colt python, and a Bowie knife made from Damascus steel. 

Siberia wasn’t meant to be kind nor loving to you. It was supposed to have killed you long ago. They assumed you would be dead by now. Hoped to be rid of you by now. A detriment to what they wanted. Too much of an improbable, uncontrollable unknown. A freak.

The log cabin you made into your home was relatively small, easy to miss, and hard to find within the gusts often sweeping across the snowy landscape. The trees keeping the location of the log cabin a hushed secret. A stone fireplace and varying large cast iron pots and pans. 

Stolen from military vehicles you spotted along the road to a base in the area. Indirectly helping task force 141 from afar. Nikolai said, “Looks like some of their supplies were taken, no signs of a struggle, no signs of combat, and whoever it is. Knew exactly what to take.”

Captain Price remarked incredulously as he frowned deeply, “What do you mean by taken? Nikolai, they’re either stolen or they’re lost. It can’t be any more or any less simple than that. I don’t think ghosts exist to steal supplies from the back of enemy trucks. We would know otherwise.”

“Oh, but Captain, the world is a mysterious place, full of secrets and unexplained occurrences. Maybe, just maybe, there is something, or someone, out there we haven’t accounted for.” Nikolai cooed a little too cryptically for his own good. Possibly even too mysteriously for Soap’s liking. Like he knew more.

The snap of the bear trap's claws clamping onto your leg set out by Nikolai, “See? The little mouse came out to play.” He set out a nice steak within enough reach to tempt you. Purposefully trying to make you do something stupid enough to try stealing it from him.

Price managed to take a closer look at you, Nikolai’s mouse, who bit Price for trying to touch you without consent. Feeling your wolf like teeth into his hand. Digging into his flesh, not hard enough to break bones. But hard enough to leave behind a deep enough bruise.

Your jaw locked in, making it impossible for him to remove his hand. With every movement of his met with a low growl ripping through your throat. Refusing to let go. Price didn’t know what to think. But Nikolai seemed to have his thumbs up, soap and are distressed. Where’s Ghost?

Who knew ghost would be the one to find your log cabin first? There he was. Standing outside your log cabin, staring at the crate you were parachuted down from the military helicopter. Smelling your intense sweet smell of your previous heat. The scent still remaining on the fur blankets.

The place you still go into when your heat comes around again. Tally marks along the walls marking how many times your ‘heat’ came around. The thick, soft fur blankets soaking in the hot water in the giant metal tub in the shed. Which also served as your bath tub. 

Learning your scent could attract far more dangerous predators than you. You bathed once a day when you weren’t in heat. Twice a day during the period of your heat. Once in the morning, and once in the evening. As you found it to be rather productive for your benefit.

Price sniffed around the crate you used to live in before shifting to your cabin permanently. The scent of yours is stronger than any of theirs. Their combined scent could match it. But singularly? No. They’d be drowned inside your scent with enough ease. Like a Megalodon swallowing someone whole.

“I can’t believe we missed this. This is a fucking goldmine.” He whispered to himself. “Nikolai! Soap! We’re not the only ones who know she’s here. She’s been living here, right under our nose!” He waved his comrades over, getting their attention and to come closer to what he found. 

Their footsteps grew louder as they approached. Soap’s eyes widened as he saw the state of your living conditions. The way you’ve adapted. The way you’ve survived. It’s a miracle, really. “How long have you been out here?” He asked, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and horror.

You were patching your leg up and bathing in hot water, hoping to sterilise and clean the wound. It was the sight of your naked body that made them rather peculiar. You were a miracle wrapped inside the cold, tendency to bite people’s hands if they touched you without consent.

Your clothes discarded into the corner of your cabin. Soaking in cold water to get the blood from your clothes. The atmosphere of your log cabin, warmer than what you felt on the inside. After the stitches, your leg is wrapped in clean cloth. You were about to get dressed.

The door slammed open like the gusts of wind came through like a shout rather than a soft, sultry whisper. The four of them must have found you quicker than you suspected. Another 12 months living, surviving, on your own. 

The first to enter your cabin was someone you didn’t expect to see again. Considering the two of you yelled at each other like you wanted to rip each other’s throat out. “What the fuck do you want?” You spat, your teeth still clenched from the pain of your wound.

“To bring you back. You’re in no state to be alone, you’re in no state to be left to pick up leftovers to live off again. I don’t want to hear your protests because frankly, I don’t care. You’re coming with us.” Price's voice was firm, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes as he stepped into the cabin, the warmth of the fireplace hitting him like a welcoming embrace.

You stared at him. Shocked. In total state of shock. Price heard the meek, “I can go back now?” Soap helped you get dressed and patched up. Ghost packed up your things, because he knew it was valuable