#I might not know how to reply to them but I have read them all and I'm very thankful for all the support what you guys have given me🌱

[princesevsnape]

Summer Love (Theodore Nott x Reader)

Inspired by Summer Love by One Direction

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Theo meet on holiday, having a summer fling. At the end of it he decides it’s best to leave it at that as you both go to different Wizarding schools. What happens when you transfer to Hogwarts at the start of the school term

A/N: I really loved writing this. As always please send in requests for any characters. I hope you enjoy this fic. Love you all 💜

Every year after the school term had ended, your parents took you on an expensive holiday to celebrate how well you did each year.

You attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Your parents both worked for the French Ministry of Magic.

You enjoyed your holidays every year. You met so many witches and wizards during these holidays. From all over the world. But this year you didn’t expect to fall for one of them.

Theodore Nott. Tall and handsome. You never intended to fall for someone but you did. And you had a summer romance.

Italy that’s where you first met this strapping young man. Same age as you. Also a wizard. But you knew it was only for the summer.

One day you were minding your own business. Reading a romance novel. Sat by the pool of your hotel, when a tall boy stopped in front of you and blocked the suns rays.

“You’re blocking the sun.” You said annoyed.

But you looked up and saw the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen.

“Apologies.” He said smiling.

He took a seat on the deck chair next to you and said “what’s a pretty little witch like you doing all on her own.”

“My parents went sight seeing.” You responded unable to take your eyes off of the boy.

“And you decided to stay here and read?” He asked taking the book from your hands.

“Urm I don’t think that’s a good idea. “ you said as he looked at the page you had been reading.

“Damn this is some filthy shit girl. Pretty little girl like you bet you fantasise about a guy touching you in this way.” He chuckled passing you your book back.

You took it from him and blushed. Closing your book. You looked away from him.

“Don’t worry sweetheart it can be our little secret. See you around gorgeous” He smiled and walked off.

That was your first interaction. The second was the next day.

Once again you were sat by the pool reading your book. You felt someone sit on the end of your deck chair. You didn’t look up until you heard his voice.

“Still didn’t want to go sight seeing with your parents? And still reading that filth?” He joked.

Closing your book, you looked at him.

“My names Theo.” He said smirking at you.

“Y/N.” You replied.

“Pretty name for such a pretty little witch.” He said making you blush.

“How about I take you to see some of the sights? Me and my parents come here every year. I know this place like the back of my hand. I can be your tour guide. If of course you’d prefer some real company.” He winked.

“Sure.” You said knowing you might regret it at some point.

Theo took you to all of his favourite spots. He even took you out to dinner.

“So where do you go to school then sweetheart? I know it can’t be Hogwarts like me, I’d remember seeing someone as pretty as you around.” He asked.

“Beauxbatons.”

“But you speak English?”

“Yeah. My father is half French. His mother was French. He grew up there. He worked at the British Ministry of Magic, but he got a job transfer to the French Ministry as did my mother. As that is the closest school that’s where I go.”

“That’s a shame. Because I’d love to get to know you more.”

The next day, Theo took you sight seeing again. That night you watched the stars together.

“You know the stars are almost as beautiful as you.” He said wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

Your heart raced. Looking over to Theo you saw him already staring at you. A huge smirk on his face. You bit your lip thinking he looked even more handsome in the moonlight.

Theo slowly raised his other hand towards your face. Gently caressing your cheek. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

Looking in your eyes to see your reaction he said “can I kiss you again?”

You didn’t respond. And Theo started to worry that he had offended you. He went to pull away from you. But you surprised him by grabbing his face and smashing your lips against his.

Grabbing your waist he pulled you onto his lap to straddle him. You ran your fingers through his hair as the kiss got more heated.

The rest of that night, you felt like the woman must have done in your romance novel.

For the remainder of your holiday you spent even more time with Theo. Getting to know each other more. You were both sad when the holiday was coming to an end. Knowing that whatever you and Theo had was over.

“I’ll write to you.” You said, not wanting to lose any contact with him.

“Please don’t promise me that. We knew what we signed up for. We knew this wouldn’t be forever.” He responded with a sad expression on his face.

“I know Theo. But I like you a lot.” You admitted.

“Look Y/N. We had a great time, but now we have to say goodbye. Just promise you’ll remember what we had. You were mine for the summer, but now we know it’s nearly over. Let’s just leave it at that yeah?”

Saying goodbye to Theo was one of the hardest things you had to do. You cried so much. And even he did a little. But you knew you would probably never see each other again. Or so you thought.

One week after you had to say goodbye to the handsome boy you had a summer romance with you were stood in front of Hogwarts castle.

Your jaw dropped at how beautiful it was as you were approaching. As soon as you got back from your holiday your parents told you that you weren’t going back to Beauxbatons, but instead you were transferring to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Your parents didn’t want to tell you whilst you were on holiday. But they had both been transferred back to the British Ministry of Magic, which meant that you had to attend Hogwarts for your final couple of years.

They were worried if they told you before that you might refuse. But there was no way you would have. Especially now that you knew you’d be seeing Theo again.

You waited with the first years as they got sorted into each of their houses. You were in your sixth year but still had to be sorted into a house. Finally you were the last one standing.

“Now before we sort our last student into her house, we must welcome Y/N Y/L/N, who joins us from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Miss Y/L/N enters her sixth year. Please take a seat so the Sorting Hat can place you into your house.” Professor Dumbledore said ushering you towards the stool where every first year had just sat.

Theo couldn’t believe his ears.

“Fuck” he said as he watched you sit down and had Professor McGonagall place the Sorting Hat onto your head.

Mattheo turned to look at his friend “Know her or something Theo? Or fancy her already?” He teased.

“Shut up Mattheo.” He said turning his attention back to you.

“Slytherin.” The Sorting Hat shouted.

The entire Slytherin table erupted in cheers just as they had for all of the first years that joined.

Making your way over to the table you noticed the only available seat was in front of a girl who looked around the same age as you.

“Hi I’m Pansy Parkinson.” She said smiling at you as you sat down opposite her.

“Nice to meet you.” You said smiling back.

You listened and said hello to every one of her friends that she introduced you to. When she introduced you to Theo you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Oi Theo stop being a creep and staring at her.” Pansy said.

“She’s staring at him too.” Mattheo teased.

“What’s going on? Do you know each other?” Pansy asked you.

You finally took your eyes off of Theo turned to look at Pansy and said “something like that.”

Everyone made an oooh sound at that. As everyone started eating Theo stood up from his seat.

“Draco swap seats with me.” Theo said to the boy sat next to you.

“No way.” Draco said glaring at him.

“Just do it Malfoy.”

Draco grunted and then moved. Theo sat down next to you and stared at you again.

“Seriously Theo stop being a damn creep.” Pansy said.

“It’s ok Pansy. Thank you though.” You said giving the girl a smile.

Turning to face Theo you said “what’s wrong?”

“Why are you here? How come you didn’t tell me? Are you actually here or am I dreaming?” He asked you question after question.

“Yes I’m really here. My parents had a job transfer back to the British Ministry of Magic. So I had to transfer here. And why would I tell you? You’re the one that told me not to write to you.”

Theo stayed silent but still didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“You’re the one who said that what we had was only for the summer, and that we should leave it at that. So leave me alone.” You said bitterly.

At first you had been excited to see him. But then remembering that he didn’t want to hear from you, made you wish he wasn’t here.

Theo reached for your hand bit you pulled away from him.

“Don’t. Please don’t.” You said.

“I’m sorry.” He said before getting up to leave the Great Hall.

You watched him leave and felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.

That night you were in bed, tossing and turning because you couldn’t get Theo off your mind. You were sharing a room with Pansy and all your tossing and turning was keeping her awake.

“Ok what’s up?” She asked, sitting up in bed and turning on the light.

You sat up in bed and asked “what do you mean?”

“You’ve been tossing and turning all night. Clearly you can’t sleep and I can’t sleep either. So tell me what’s wrong. Is it Theo? What happened between you two anyway?” She asked.

You then proceeded to tell her everything. How you met in Italy. How you had a fling. How he then said for you to not write to him. How you should just leave it at that.

“Damn. I knew he could be a dick but not that much of a dick.” She admitted.

“I just don’t understand why he’s questioning me about not telling him I was transferring here when he was the one who told me not to write to him.”

“Look just do your best to ignore him. We’ll hang out just the two of us. I’ve been waiting for a girl friend for a long time. I get fed up of hanging out with the guys sometimes.” She admits.

For the next couple of weeks you do your best to avoid Theo. He keeps trying to talk to you, but you do as Pansy advised and ignore him.

One evening you head back to the Slytherin common room after dinner. When you get there you see Theo sitting with another Slytherin girl. They’re both deep in conversation but you can tell that they’re both flirting with each other.

The sight made you feel sick to your stomach. Theo glances over at you and smirks. Glaring at him to storm off to yours and Pansy’s dorm.

After seeing the look on your face Theo instantly regretted flirting with that other girl. He only did it to try and make you jealous, to try and get you to talk to him. The last few weeks had been torture for him. He tried so hard to talk to you, but you always ignored him.

Laying on your bed crying your eyes out, you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Looking to the doorway you see Theo stood there. A look of regret on his face.

“What do you want?” You asked.

“To talk. Please can we talk?” He asked.

“Fine.” You said sitting up and gesturing for him to sit down on your bed.

Theo slowly entered your room and sat down next to you.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked when he just sat their in silence.

“Us.” He said.

“There is no us Theo. You made that perfectly clear when you said for us to leave everything as just a summer romance. When you told me not to write to you.”

“I thought it would be easier. For you. For me. At the time I didn’t know you’d be coming here.”

“I didn’t know until we got home from holiday. My parents only told me 3 days before we were due to start school. It came as a shock to me as much as it must have for you.”

“Look I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we said goodbye to each other. Even more so when you showed up here. I hate that you haven’t been speaking to me. I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I regret telling you not to write to me. I had such an amazing time with you over the summer.” He admitted.

“Well you can’t have hated me not talking to you that much, from what I saw downstairs you were having a great time with that girl.”

“I only did that to try and make you jealous. To try and get you to talk to me. The moment I saw how upset you were I regretted it. Told that girl to piss off and that I wasn’t interested in her.”

“That was a bit harsh.” You scolded him.

“But it’s true. The only one I’m interested in is you. Give me a few moments I’ve got something in my dorm for you.” He said before quickly rushing out of the room.

A few minutes later he came back holding something behind his back. Sitting back on the bed next to you, he handed you a single dethorned red rose.

Smiling you took it from him.

“I enchanted it, so it will never die.” He said smiling as he saw your cheeks turn red.

“I genuinely am so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” He added.

Theo scooted closer to you and wiped the tears from your eyes. The feeling of his skin on yours again caused your heart to race.

You were about to lean in to kiss him on the cheek, when Pansy entered your dorm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked glaring at Theo.

“Pansy, it’s ok.” You said.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

You just nodded.

“I should be going. I’ll see you around gorgeous.” He said kissing the top of your head before leaving your dorm.

That night you dreamt of him. Imagining what it would be like to be with him again.

A couple of days later you were sat at the Slytherin table for breakfast. The owls swooped in with the post and you were surprised to see a package land in front of you.

Opening the package you saw a romance novel that you had wanted to read for some time. With the book was a note saying “I remember how much you like this filth. Hope you enjoy gorgeous. Let me know if you want to re-enact any of the scenes like last time.”

You quickly tucked the note and book into your bag.

“Y/N are you ok? You’ve gone bright red.” Pansy asked.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You lied looking down the table to Theo who was a couple of seats away from you.

He smiled and gave you a wink.

Later that day you were in Potions class. Professor Slughorn had told you that you were to work in pairs for a project. You assumed you’d be working with Pansy but before you could say anything to her Theo slipped into the seat next to you and declared himself your partner.

“I meant what I said in the note.” He whispered in your ear.

Once again you felt your cheeks burning.

“Any time you want darling.” He added.

“You just want to get in my pants Nott.” You said.

“I want a lot more than that sweetheart.”

“Oh yeah then what is it that you want from me?” You asked.

“To make you mine.” He said placing a hand on your thigh underneath the table.

“You don’t mean that Theo.”

“Yes I do. Meet me in the astronomy tower after dinner tonight. I will prove that I mean it.” He said.

Later that night you snuck up to the astronomy tower. You knew you could get in trouble if you were caught but you had to see what Theo had to say for himself.

When you arrived Theo was already there waiting for you.

“You came.” He said.

“Well I had to see what you had to say for yourself.”

Theo grabbed you by the waist and pulled you against him. Placing his forehead on yours he looked you in the eyes. He kept a hand on your waist to make sure you didn’t pull away.

“Y/N you drive me crazy. What we had in Italy was special. And I never thought we could have a chance of being together due to you living in France and me living here. The moment I saw you again in this very castle I knew I had to do whatever it took to make you mine. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” He admitted.

You carried on looking in his eyes. Not sure of what to say. Before you could say anything he carried on.

“You are so beautiful, and so kind, funny and amazing. I want you to be my girlfriend. It feels stupid for me to say that I’ve fallen for you when honestly we’ve only know each other a few months. But I have fallen for you. So please will you be my girlfriend? Will you let me prove how much I care about you?” He asked.

“Yes Theo. Yes I will be your girlfriend. But please promise me that this is real and that you aren’t going to hurt me?”

“I promise. I wouldn’t hurt you. We can take things as slow as you want. All I want is to make you happy. “ He said before gently kissing you.

“Let’s go back to the common room” you suggested.

Entering the common room hand in hand yours and Theo’s friends jaws dropped.

“Finally made her yours then Nott.” Mattheo teased.

“Yeah I did.” He said wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Hurt her and I’ll kill you.” Pansy threatened.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He replied and kissed the top of your head.

That night you joined Theo in his dorm room. He held you all night. And you knew that the two of you would be very happy together.

[eternalguk]

Pink Hearts & Black Clouds || jjk. — 02

Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, angst, fluff & smut

↠ Word count : 7K

↠ Warnings : swearing, explicit sexual content, riding, oral (f receiving), breast play, intense makeout, multiple orgasms, pet names, dom!guk x sub!reader, praise kink, both of them have a very filthy mouth …

↠ A/n : Hi there ; here is chapter 2! It’s been so long so I both thank you for your patience and apologise for the delay. Chapter 2 takes more of a fun ride and gives you the perfect insight to how chaotic life is for our doll and Bakugo~ There is a scene that is inspired by the voting scene from Gossip Girl. I just felt that it really worked for the two of them :) Your feedback / comments are always appreciated. Thank you for giving my story a chance & happy reading 🦢.

↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G

❧ Chapter 02 : lace & chains

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Three days before voting day

You burst into Jungkook’s apartment like a whirlwind, carrying an armful of colourful flyers that threaten to spill onto the floor. Your oversized tote bag clinks as you toss it onto his couch, the sound of perfume samples and random trinkets filling the silence.

Jungkook, seated cross-legged on the couch in his usual black hoodie and shorts, barely glances up from his phone. His dark hair falls messily over his eyes, and his lip ring catches the dim light as he scrolls through his FYP on TikTok.

“I’ve decided,” you announce dramatically, your voice ringing through his apartment. “I’m running for president.”

The statement hangs in the air like a firework that hasn’t yet exploded. Jungkook’s eyes rise slowly from his magazine, his brow arching in disbelief.

“President of what?” he deadpans, leaning back into the cushions.

“Student president!” you exclaim, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You drop your flyers onto the coffee table with a flourish, scattering glitter and pastel-colored paper everywhere.

“Ms. Choi mentioned it today? Were you not listening?” You roll your eyes, taking off your cream bowknot coat.

Jungkook picks up one of the flyers, his tattooed fingers smudging the edge as he squints at it. The text is scrawled in a glittery font so loud it’s practically yelling: Vote for Me, Because I’m Cute! Beneath it is a selfie of you holding a puppy, your face framed by glitter stickers and cartoon hearts.

Whose puppy is that?

“These look like ads for a bake sale,” he says flatly, turning the flyer sideways like it might reveal a hidden agenda.

“They’re campaign flyers,” you correct, hands on your hips.

He gives you a pointed look, holding the flyer up. “It says, ‘Vote for me because I’m cute and I’ll listen to your problems.’”

“Exactly!” you chirp, sitting beside him and crossing your legs. “Who wouldn’t want a cute president?”

Jungkook stares at you, his expression unreadable. “So, you’re running to lead the entire cohort because you’re… cute?”

“And I’m kind,” you add, smiling sweetly.

Jungkook exhales, setting the flyer down like it’s too much for him to process. “You do realise this isn’t just a popularity contest, right? There’s actual work involved.”

“I know that,” you reply with a wave of your hand. “That’s why I have a plan. And guess what? You’re gonna be my campaign manager!”

His laugh is instant and sharp, the kind that makes your pout deepen. “Yeah, no. There’s no way I’m getting involved in this mess.”

“Why not?” you whine, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Because,” he says, shaking his head, “this is doomed from the start. And when it crashes and burns, I don’t want my name attached to it.”

You gasp dramatically, playing with your pearl necklace like he’s insulted your very soul. “I can’t believe you! You’re supposed to support me, not tear me down!”

“I’m trying to save you from yourself,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

But your determination is unshakable. “You’ll see, Koo. I’m going to win, and when I do, you’ll regret not being by my side from the start.”

“You genuinely serious about this?”

“I am! I already told Taehyung and Jimin, and they’re helping me with posters tomorrow!”

That makes him pause. “Taehyung and Jimin?”

“Yes.”

“They’re helping you run for student president?”

“Of course!”

“I regret making you all meet.” Jungkook gulps, rubbing his hands over his face. “This is just going to be a complete train wreck.”

“No, it’s not!” you argue, stomping your foot for emphasis. “I’m going to win, and then you’ll see. Everyone will love me as their president!”

“They already love you,” he says, exasperated.

“Exactly!” You beam, missing the sarcasm in his tone. “So you’re on board?”

He groans, now running his hand through his hair. “Fine. But only so I can stop you from embarrassing yourself too much.”

“Yay!” You jump onto the couch and throw your arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, though his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “Now come here.”

Two days before voting day

The next day, Jungkook regrets everything.

You’re standing in the middle of campus with Taehyung and Jimin, holding up your new-and-improved campaign posters.

Well, “improved” is a stretch - Jungkook still thinks they look like ads for a daycare. Or was it a bake sale?

He stands stiffly in the middle of campus, hands stuffed into his black cargo pants as you, Taehyung, and Jimin flit around him like chaotic birds.

Taehyung is holding a stack of your revamped posters, and Jimin’s busy tying pink ribbons to the railings of the quad. And you? You’re smiling as though you’re the happiest person in the universe right now.

“Vote for Y/N: She’s cute, and she loves puppies!” Jimin reads aloud, snickering. “This is gold!”

“I do love puppies,” you say proudly, twirling a strand of hair.

Jungkook groans. “This is embarrassing.”

“Don’t be so grumpy, Koo,” Taehyung teases, snapping a picture of you holding up a sign. “You’re dating the future president. Show some pride.”

“Pride,” Jungkook repeats flatly, eyeing the glitter stuck to his hand. “Right.”

You tug on his arm, your lace-trimmed beige cardigan brushing against his tattooed sleeve. “Stop sulking and hand out some flyers!”

He doesn’t move. “Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you love me,” you say with a wink.

Jungkook groans but walks over anyway, taking a stack of flyers from your hands. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Believe it, Daddy,” Taehyung teases, earning a glare from Jungkook.

“Shut up.”

Taehyung just laughs, holding up his phone to take more pictures of you posing with your flyers.

“Make sure you get my good side!” you call out, striking a pose.

“They’re all your good side,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, though no one hears him.

“Okay, next we need to practice my speech,” you say, clapping your hands together.

“Speech?” Jungkook repeats, already dreading it.

“Yeah, for the debate,” you explain, but not without sending a glare Jungkook’s way.

Obviously there was going to be a speech!

Jimin’s eyes light up. “Oh, now this I’ve gotta see.”

That Same Evening

Later that evening, you’re sprawled out on Jungkook’s couch, surrounded by ribbons and glitter glue as you design yet another poster.

Your lace-trimmed socks dangle off the edge of the couch, while Jungkook sits on the floor, leaning against the coffee table with his laptop. His silver chain necklace gleams under the dim light, a sharp contrast to the pastel chaos surrounding him.

Jungkook is drained.

You, on the other hand, are still buzzing with excitement as you recap your “successful” campaign efforts on the walk home.

“Everyone was so nice!” you gush. “They all said they’d vote for me!”

“Mhm,” Jungkook says, not pointing out that most of those people were just being polite. And because they wanted a homemade brownie…

“And did you see how cute that dog was? I can’t believe I got to pet it!”

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“Obviously. Oh, and Jimin said he’d help me edit my speech later tonight!”

Jungkook groans. “Why do I feel like this is going to end in disaster?”

“It won’t,” you insist, grabbing his arm and flashing him a confident smile. “You’ll see, Koo. I’m going to be the best president ever!”

Jungkook sighs. He really doesn’t have the heart to tell you otherwise.

“Why do you want to do this, Doll?” he asks, glancing at you over the rim of his glasses.

“Because it’s fun, Bakugo” you reply, your voice muffled by the pen cap you’re holding in your mouth. “And because I’m going to win.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, though there’s a faint smile tugging at his lips. Your confidence deserved to be applauded.

You lean over, poking his cheek with a glittery finger. “You love it.”

He catches your wrist, his grip firm but gentle, and pulls your hand away. “I do love you. This? Not so much.”

Your eyes soften at his words, the teasing grin fading into something quieter. “You really do, don’t you?”

Just a few months ago, you couldn’t have imagined Jungkook looking you in the eyes and saying “I love you” with such steady, unshakable certainty.

He sighs, setting his laptop aside to look at you properly. “Yeah, I do. Even when you’re driving me insane with this campaign nonsense.”

You grin, leaning closer until your nose almost brushes his. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re the best campaign manager ever.”

“I’m not your campaign manager,” he grumbles, but his lips twitch into a smile when you kiss the corner of his mouth.

“You are! We need a team name,” you chirp, gazing off as you try and think of something. “Doll and Bakugo!”

The lace of your cardigan brushes against Jungkook’s heavy chain as you pull back, and for a moment, everything feels like it fits - your softness, his edge, the chaos you bring into his carefully ordered life.

“Lace and chains,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.

“What?” you ask, tilting your head, not exactly catching what Jungkook had said.

“Nothing.”

But the way he looks at you, with a mixture of exasperation and affection, says everything he can’t.

Voting Day Eve

The campus is filled with students, curiously walking around the hall examining the posters of all the class president candidates. Your station is right at the end, hard to miss due to all the pink.

You’re holding the poster in both hands, eyes wide with determination as you stand in front of Jungkook. “I can’t believe I’m actually running for president!”

Days later, the statement still hangs in the air like an uninvited guest. Jungkook stares at you, unblinking, while Taehyung and Jimin - because, of course, they’re here - exchange looks before bursting into laughter.

No one could believe this was actually happening.

“President? Of what?” Jungkook sarcastically asks, deadpan, voice full of that grunge skepticism that could level buildings.

“Of the whole class, obviously!” you announce, puffing out your chest like you’ve already won. “I’ve even got a - what’s it called - a manifesto!”

Taehyung’s practically chokes on his laughter. “You don’t even know what a manifesto is.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes Tae, I do! It’s, like, when you tell everyone what snacks you’ll bring to meetings and stuff.”

Jimin’s doubled over now, wheezing. “Snacks?!”

Jungkook’s still standing there, arms crossed, watching you like you’re an alien that just crash-landed in his life. “I still don’t get why you’re-. You can barely-” He stops himself, probably realising that anything he says will sound meaner than it’s meant to be.

“I can barely what?” You narrow your eyes at him, ready for a fight.

Jungkook sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can barely decide what to eat for breakfast without flipping a coin.”

“That’s called strategy,” you argue, pointing at him with your infamous glittery pink gel pen. “And don’t act like you wouldn’t benefit from me being in charge. I’d be the people’s president. Free parking for everyone!”

Taehyung raises his hand like a student in class. “There’s no paid parking on campus.”

“Then I’ll invent it! And then make it free again!” you declare triumphantly.

Jungkook groans, running a hand through his messy hair. “You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore.”

But your enthusiasm is unwavering. “Just you wait! I’m going to get elected and change this school forever.”

“What’s your slogan?” Jimin asks, still snickering.

You hold up your poster proudly. On it, in hot pink marker surrounded by glitter stickers, is your face in an unevenly drawn heart. Below it, the words: ‘She’s cute, so vote for her!’

Jungkook stares at the poster for a long moment, then looks back at you. “This is a joke, right?”

“It’s not a joke! Cute presidents are more approachable,” you explain, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“And what happens if you don’t win?” Taehyung teases.

You gasp, horrified. “I have to win. I’ve already planned my victory speech.”

“Let me guess,” Jungkook says flatly. “It’s just you saying, ‘Thank you for voting for me because I’m cute.’”

You blink at him, offended. “You think I’d be that shallow?”

“Yes,” all three of them say in unison.

You ignore them, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Whatever. When I win, you’ll all be begging me for favours.”

“I can’t wait to see how this turns out,” Taehyung mutters, already texting someone.

Jungkook grabs the glitter-covered poster from your hands, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably presidential,” you correct, snatching it back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a campaign to run.”

Jungkook watches as you march off, shoulders square, your sparkly pen tucked behind your ear like a weapon. He shakes his head, muttering under his breath. “I can’t believe I’m dating this lunatic.”

“Hey,” Jimin says, leaning closer. “Admit it. You’d vote for her.”

Jungkook scoffs. “I’ve never voted for anyone. A day like that is a day off for me.”

However, later that afternoon, when you’re texting him about poster designs and debate outfits, he replies:

‘You’re an idiot.’

But when he sees your reply - selfie of you holding a new poster that reads ‘Vote for me because my boyfriend’s hot!’ - he can’t help but laugh.

Okay, maybe voting wouldn’t hurt after all.

That Same Evening

You’re walking through the campus courtyard with Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin, your campaign flyers clutched in your hands. The sun has started to dip, and you’re all finally heading home after another long day of plastering your posters everywhere you could think of.

Nearby, a group of students sits in a semi-circle on the grass, casually chatting. At first, you’re too busy laughing at something Jimin said to pay attention, but their conversation drifts over, loud enough for all of you to hear.

“As cute and nice as Y/N is,” one of the students says, their tone hesitant, “I just feel like we need someone serious for student president. Someone who’ll actually get things done.”

Hearing your name, you slow your steps, glancing over curiously.

Another student chimes in, nodding. “Yeah, I mean, she’s sweet and all, but this isn’t just a popularity contest, right? We need someone with a real plan.”

Around them, a couple of others murmur their agreement.

Before you can fully process what’s being said, Jimin throws his arm around your shoulders, tugging you close with a grin. “Y/N! You know what we need to do? Get you a campaign mascot. Like a dog! Or a tiger. You’d look great standing next to a tiger. So fierce!”

You blink up at him, momentarily distracted. “A tiger? Where am I supposed to get a tiger, Jimin?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got connections,” he says, waving his hand dramatically. “Just trust me.”

While you’re occupied with Jimin’s theatrics, Taehyung leans closer to Jungkook, lowering his voice. “You heard that, right? I’ve been hearing stuff like that all day. A lot of people aren’t planning to vote for her. She’ll be crushed.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens as he glances back at the group of students. For a moment, his expression is unreadable. Then he lets out a low breath, shrugging. “Honestly, it might be for the best.”

Taehyung looks at him sharply. “What?”

“She doesn’t realise how much work this is going to be,” Jungkook says, his tone steady, almost detached. “She’s always in her own little world. I don’t think she understands what she’s getting into.”

Taehyung frowns but doesn’t argue. He knows Jungkook too well to push when he’s in one of his gruff moods. “Maybe,” he mutters, glancing back at you.

And there you are, smiling up at Jimin as he spins some absurd story about how he once met someone who owned a pet tiger. Your laughter rings out, light and carefree, completely oblivious to the conversation happening just feet away.

Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you for a moment too long. The corners of his mouth twitch, and something flickers in his eyes - an idea taking shape.

“Actually,” he begins, tone softening ever so slightly, “wait, never mind.”

Taehyung tilts his head, studying him. “You say somet, bro?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He’s already turning away, hands shoved into his pockets, a hint of determination in his stride.

Voting Day

The auditorium buzzes with anticipation as the student body crowds into the seats, the chatter growing louder with every passing second. You’re seated near the front, sandwiched between Jimin and Taehyung, your knee bouncing with nervous energy. Jungkook sits at the end of the row, his arms crossed as he leans back in his seat, his usual stoic expression betraying nothing.

The student council advisor steps up to the podium, clearing her throat as the microphone squeals. The noise quiets instantly, the crowd leaning forward in anticipation.

“Thank you all for joining us,” she begins, scanning the room. “After a record-breaking number of votes this year, it’s time to announce your new student president.”

You suck in a sharp breath, clutching Jimin’s arm in a death grip. “Oh my God, oh my God,” you whisper, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

“You’ve got this,” Jimin whispers back, patting your hand reassuringly. Taehyung gives you a thumbs-up, though his grin is teasing.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He’s staring straight ahead, his jaw tight, his fingers drumming against his armrest.

The advisor opens an envelope, the sound of ripping paper echoing through the silent room. “And the winner, with a significant margin, is…” She pauses, glancing at the paper before smiling broadly. “Y/L/N Y/N!”

For a moment, the words don’t register. The room erupts into applause, some laughter, and you sit frozen, your mouth slightly open as your brain scrambles to catch up.

“Wait… what?” you squeak, turning to Jimin.

“You won, dummy!” Jimin yells over the cheers, shaking your shoulders excitedly.

“I… I won?” you repeat, still stunned.

Taehyung laughs, shoving you out of your seat. “Go! Get up there before they think you passed out!”

Your legs feel like jelly as you make your way to the stage, your heart pounding in your chest. The applause grows louder, and you spot a few familiar faces cheering for you from the crowd.

The cheers from the crowd fill the air, and the stage is lit with bright light. You stand confidently beaming as you clap along with everyone else, your heart racing in disbelief. Flowers are handed to you by random students, and your smile could light up the entire quad.

This is it - the moment you’ve worked so hard for - even though you didn’t expect it to actually happen. But now, standing on the stage in front of all your classmates, your heart is a mix of excitement and pure shock. You don’t know how it happened, but here you are. You’ve won.

The advisor hands you the microphone, her smile encouraging. You glance out at the sea of faces, your eyes wide and slightly panicked.

“Erm… hi?” you say nervously, your voice echoing through the room.

The crowd laughs, and you relax slightly, your trademark grin breaking through. “I honestly don’t know what to say. I didn’t think I’d win - like, at all. But, um, thank you? Thank you so much for believing in me. I promise to make this the most fun year ever!”

More cheers erupt, and you can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and genuine. You feel like you’re on top of the world.

From his seat, Jungkook watches you, his expression softening as you beam at the crowd. Taehyung leans closer to him, nudging him with his elbow.

“You didn’t think she’d pull it off, huh?”

Jungkook smirks faintly, his gaze never leaving you. “Guess I underestimated her.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, but before he can respond, Jimin pipes up from Jungkook’s other side. “You’re proud of her, aren’t you?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but the hint of a smile remains. “Shut up.”

On stage, you clutch the microphone tightly, your confidence growing with every second. “And to everyone who didn’t think I could do this - haha! Joke’s on you!”

The crowd laughs and claps, your infectious energy impossible to resist. As you step back from the podium, your eyes scan the audience until they land on Jungkook.

He’s sitting back, his expression calm but his eyes warm, the faintest tilt of his head acknowledging you. And for a brief moment, everything else fades away.

You grin at him, your heart swelling with joy.

As you wave to the crowd and enjoy the praise, you feel like the luckiest person on earth. You’re so focused on taking it all in that you don’t even notice Jungkook leaving his seat to stand off to the side, leaning against a pillar and watching you from a distance, arms crossed.

Jimin and Taehyung join him, but are engaged in their own conversation as Jungkook busies himself with his phone.

Taehyung leans over to Jimin, grinning like the little troublemaker he is. “Dude, I don’t get it. How the hell did she win? I thought she was just being her usual bubbly self, handing out flyers and acting cute… But look at her now.”

Jimin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, man, what’s up with that? I mean, she’s sweet, and all, but… I didn’t think people would actually vote for her.”

The two of them glance over at Jungkook, who’s still standing quietly, his face unreadable. Taehyung smirks, nudging him lightly. “What do you think, Kook? How did she even win? Who’s voting for her, really?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, not bothering to look at them, but there’s a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stands there, arms crossed, silently watching you, who’s now trying to juggle the flowers while still looking out at the crowd with that infectious grin of yours.

Jimin tilts his head, eyeing him suspiciously. “Come on, Jungkook. You know you have some sort of opinion. Tell us, who voted for her?”

Taehyung adds, “We can’t be the only ones. Did she really have this big of a following?”

Jungkook finally speaks, his voice calm, as he looks at Taehyung and Jimin, not making any effort to hide the slight amusement in his eyes. “Me,” he says, his gaze still fixed on you, who’s now blowing kisses to the crowd.

Jimin blinks, confused. “Well duh, but what was that going to do?”

Taehyung on the other hand scoffs, failing to believe Jungkook actually voted. “Bro, did you seriously vote? That’s a first.”

Jungkook glances at him, his lips curling into a small but knowing smile. “Yeah, about 120 times.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence, as Jimin and Taehyung exchange wide-eyed looks.

“Wait,” Taehyung starts, his tone of disbelief almost comical. “You really voted for her that many times? Dude, you’re joking.”

“No,” Jungkook responds, his voice laced with casual indifference. “Why would I fucking joke?”

Jimin can’t help but chuckle, looking over at Taehyung, who’s still in shock. “Wow, we had no idea. You’re soft for her, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “She deserves it.”

The two of them fall silent for a moment, digesting what he’s just said.

Jungkook, the grungy, distant guy who typically didn’t care much for things like this, voted for you - his ditsy, but incredibly endearing girl - 120 times.

“She won because of you?” Taehyung asks, his voice almost in awe.

Jungkook finally shifts his gaze away from you and looks at the two of them. There’s still a quiet smirk on his face, but his tone is serious when he speaks again. “She’s the best choice. They need her.”

Jimin looks back at you on stage, a soft smile forming on his face. “Damn. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Jungkook’s eyes flick back to you as well, a subtle warmth in them that he doesn’t bother to hide this time. “Come on hyung, get over it.”

The two of them stand there, silently processing Jungkook’s revelation, while you continue to beam up at the crowd, completely oblivious to the conversation happening just a short distance away.

Your joy is contagious, and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook feels like he’s part of something bigger than himself. You make him feel that way, without even trying.

“Should we go congratulate her?” Taehyung asks with a grin, nudging Jimin, who looks lost in thought. “I mean, she’s our president now, right?”

Jimin laughs, shaking his head, still processing the revelation about Jungkook. “Yeah. Let’s go before she starts thanking everyone except us.”

As the two of them start to walk toward you, Jungkook stays behind, watching them for a second before his gaze drifts back to you.

When you finally make your way off the stage and into the crowd of friends and classmates congratulating you, your eyes lock with Jungkook’s. You smile at him, that soft, bright smile that always catches him off guard, and you laugh, still holding the flowers in your hands.

You’re quick to thrust your bouquets into the arms of Taehyung and Jimin, who both lean in to try and hug you, but you’re off and throwing yourself into your Bakugo’s arms.

“Jungkook, I don’t even know how I won! I don’t know what happened!” you exclaim with a cute laugh, clearly overwhelmed by everything happening around you.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you, his eyes softening with something unreadable. Finally, he pulls you in, engulfing you in his bulky arms.

Home.

“It was your daily speeches doll,” he whispers quietly, almost to himself. “You’re special.”

You beam back at him, your joy too big to contain. “Thanks, Koo! I couldn’t have done it without you!”

Jungkook says nothing, but the way he looks down at you, with the faintest smile on his lips, says it all.

For once, it’s clear: he’s always believed in you, even when you didn’t know it.

Later that evening, after the excitement has settled and the crowd has dispersed, you find yourself in Jungkook’s apartment again, sprawled on the couch with your victory flowers placed haphazardly on the coffee table.

Jungkook sits beside you, shirtless and looking hot as fuck as he flips through his phone.

You nudge his side with your elbow, catching his attention. “So, Kookie…” you start, drawing out the syllables in a singsong tone.

He raises a brow but doesn’t look away from his phone. “What now?”

“I won student president,” you remind him, grinning as you scoot closer.

“Did you? I didn’t notice,” he says dryly, still scrolling.

Back to his usual self it seems…

You pout, tugging on his sleeve. “That’s a big deal, you know.”

“Sure is.”

You lean in even closer, practically draping yourself over him. “Big enough for a reward, don’t you think?”

At that, he finally looks at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “A reward?”

You nod enthusiastically, your smile turning mischievous. “Yep. I worked so hard, and I think I deserve something for all my efforts.”

Jungkook smirks, his tongue running over his bottom lip in that way that always makes your stomach flip. “Oh, you think so?”

“I know so,” you declare, sitting up straighter and crossing your arms. “I handed out flyers, made speeches, posed for pictures. It was exhausting!”

You pout, knowing it will help you win your case.

He tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. “And what kind of reward are you looking for, Miss President?”

You pretend to think for a moment, tapping your chin with your finger. “Hmm… Something meaningful. Something memorable. Something…” You trail off, leaning closer until your face is just inches from his. “Fun.”

Jungkook’s smirk widens, and he sets his phone down, finally giving you his full attention. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Unbelievably deserving of a reward,” you correct, grinning shamelessly.

He shakes his head, his hair falling into his eyes as he leans back against the couch. “Alright, Miss President. What do you want?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you slide onto his lap, straddling him, your hands resting on his shoulders. His hands instinctively settle on your hips, and his brows shoot up in surprise.

“This,” you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more playful tone. “This is my reward.”

You grind down on Jungkook, moving forward to rest your nose against his cheek.

Jungkook chuckles, low and warm, his grip tightening slightly. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe,” you admit, leaning in until your lips are a breath away from his. “But you like it.”

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, Jungkook closes the distance, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss that sends shivers down your spine.

When you finally pull back, a satisfied smile on your face, you whisper, “Best reward ever.”

“But I’m not satisfied,” Jungkook says in a husky tone, playing with the hem of your short, silk nightgown. “I think I deserve a reward too.”

As Jungkook’s fingers continue to trace lazy patterns on your thigh, his voice drops further, laced with that teasing, husky tone that always makes your cheeks warm.

His lips brush slightly against your ear.

You pull back and blink up at your man, your glossy lips parting slightly in confusion. “Huh? But you’re not the class president, silly. I am!”

Jungkook pauses, pulling back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes narrowing like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. And then he laughs - deep and low, the sound rumbling from his chest and vibrating against you.

A sound you’re not quite used to, but is your saving grace.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, shaking his head, the smirk tugging at his lips betraying his exasperation.

You pout, your perfectly glossed lips sticking out just enough to tempt him further. “I’m not wrong though,” you argue, tilting your head innocently.

“Mhm.” His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his thumb brushing against your skin as he leans closer, the warmth of his breath fanning against your cheek. “Still think I deserve something… presidential, don’t you think. You know, for being the best campaign manager?”

You stare at him for a second, trying to piece together what he meant before your face lights up. “Ohhh! You mean, like, a sticker or something? I think I have some in my bag! Wait here!”

Jungkook groans softly, the sound half-amused, half-defeated, as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. But he wasn’t going to let you go anywhere.

“Forget the sticker, doll,” he mutters, tugging you closer and pressing his lips firmly against yours once again.

Jungkook laughs softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist. “You’re lucky you’re- never mind.”

“You’re lucky I’m your president,” you quip, earning an eye roll and another kiss that leaves you both grinning like fools.

Jungkook pulls your closer, groaning. A deep, throaty sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Why don’t you remind me how lucky I am?”

Your fingers trail down his buff chest, teasingly slow, until they reach the waistband of his jeans. You toy with the button, glancing up at him through your lashes. “I think you already know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But if you need me to spell it out…”

Before you can finish, his hand shoots up, gripping your chin gently but firmly. “You’re such a tease,” he mutters, his gaze locked on yours. “Always pushing buttons, seeing how far you can go.”

A thrill runs through you at his words, your body responding instinctively as you nod, your lips parting slightly.

“Yes,” you breath, the single word laden with meaning.

That was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift motion, Jungkook flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as his mouth crashed into yours.

The kiss is hungry, desperate, his tongue claiming yours as his hands roamed over your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You moan into his mouth, arching into his touch, your hands fisting in his hair to pull him closer.

When he finally breaks the kiss, both of you are breathless, your chests rising and falling rapidly.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. “Class president. Always so perfect, aren’t you?”

Your head falls back against the couch cushions, a whimper escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your collarbone.

“Only for you,” you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Jungkook chuckles darkly, his hands sliding under your skirt to grip your thighs. “Is that so?” he asks, voice laced with amusement. “Then let’s see how much of a good girl you can be for me tonight.”

With that, he shifts lower, his lips following the path of his hands as he kisses along your inner thighs.

You squirm beneath him, the anticipation building as he teases you mercilessly, his breath hot against your skin. When his tongue finally finds its target, your back arches off the couch as a cry tears from your lips.

“J-Jungkook!” you moan, your hands clutching at the cushions as waves of pleasure wash over you.

“My love, I’ve missed this” Jungkook murmurs, voice thick with lust, his breath ghosting over your slick heat. “Missed my mouth all over this filthy cunt.”

Your fingers tangle in his dark hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp as you tighten your grip, hips arching in desperate search of contact. The need is maddening, your body trembling with want.

“Please… Koo,” you whine, your voice barely more than a whimper, every syllable laced with urgency. “Please, I need you.”

He hums against your thigh, the sound sending a jolt straight through your core. His gaze flickers up to you, hungry and impossibly tender. “I need you too,” he admits softly. “Need to taste you. Need to be inside you. Need to ruin you.”

Then, with infuriating patience, he drags the tip of his tongue along your folds - a featherlight stroke that leaves you shuddering. You writhe beneath him, chasing more, the teasing making your heart pound.

Jungkook groans low in his throat, clearly affected by the sight of you already in bliss.

“Baby, please… need more,” you whine, voice high and trembling, your body begging louder than words ever could.

And that is all it takes.

“Koo’s teased you long enough, hmm, doll?” he taunts, cupping your thighs and settling in deeper. “If it’s too much, you’ll tell me.”

Jungkook licks a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit, savouring every drop of you. His tongue lingers, his lips sealing around your cunt as he begins to truly devour you … hungry, reverent, insatiable.

He moans into you, the vibration making your toes curl. His mouth is everywhere - sucking, kissing, lapping - and when his tongue flicks over your swollen clit, you cry out his name like a prayer.

You rock your hips against his face, seeking more, always more, as he flattens his tongue against you and groans at the taste he’s been craving. His hands roam upward, brushing over your chest, thumbs circling your hardened nipples, sending sparks of sensation through your already trembling frame.

“Oh my god, Baby—please! I-I can’t—” You gasp, the first orgasm crashing into you hard and fast, your thighs clamping around his head.

But Jungkook doesn’t stop.

He already knows.

“Baby wants more?” he teases against your heat, voice muffled but devilish.

And despite the pressure, you find yourself nodding.

Jungkook is then licking you again… up and down, over and over… shameless, worshipful and like he’s starved for you.

You can barely breathe, pleasure building again far too soon, and all you can do is hold on as he pulls another climax from your trembling body, whispering your name between every lick like it’s the only word that’s ever mattered.

You whine, tears spilling from your eyes as you reach for your Koo to hold you.

“Not yet,” he says, voice rough with lust and desire. “We’re not done.”

Before you could protest, Jungkook is kissing you again, his hands roaming over your body as he guides you to sit up.

“Ride me,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You obey without hesitation, positioning yourself over him as he unbuckles his jeans, freeing his hard length.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, moaning at the sensation of being filled so completely. All while the tears continue to spill.

You love… you adore… you could die for the way this man fucks you.

Jungkook’s hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you begin to ride him, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

“That’s it,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours. “Take what you want, baby. Show me how much you’ve earned this.”

You whimper, pace increasing as the heat between you builds to an unbearable level. Jungkook’s hands move to your breasts, kneading and teasing as you grind down on him, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Look at you,” he rasps, his voice guttural and raw. “Riding me like you own me.” His words send a thrill through you, spurring you on as you pick up the pace, grinding down onto him with increasing urgency.

“You’re- you’re mine,” you manage to utter, grip tightening on Jungkook’s shoulders as you reach down to kiss him.

Jungkook, however, seems occupied with your urgency. And being his usual determined self, he cannot let you win.

His hands grab hold of your hips again, guiding your movements as he thrust up into you harshly, meeting you stroke for stroke.

The pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your core with each thrust. You feel it building, that sweet pressure threatening to break you apart, but you hold on, determined to make your handsome man come undone first.

“Koo, I—” you whine, your voice breaking as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

You clench around him, drawing a strangled groan from his lips as his rhythm falters.

Leaning forward, you capture his mouth in a messy, passionate kiss, your tongues battling for dominance as you ride him harder, faster, chasing that peak together.

“Come for me,” he demands, tone firm but gentle. “Fall apart on my dick.”

It was all the permission you required.

With a cry, you come undone, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Jungkook groans, the feeling of your sticky cum decorating him consuming him.

And before he can continue his usual post-orgasm shenanigans, you cut him off with a sharp roll of your hips, driving him over the edge.

His release hits him like a tidal wave, his body tensing as he spills inside you. He holds you through it, his groans muffling against your skin.

The sight of him cumming inside you, the feel of him pulsing within you, is all it takes to send you spiraling once again.

Another orgasm crashes over you, waves of ecstasy washing through your body as you clench around him, milking every last drop of pleasure Jungkook has to offer.

Both of you breathe heavily as you try to regain your senses. Jungkook’s arms immediately wrap tighter around you, holding you close as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, voice filled with satisfaction and pride. “You did so well, my princess.”

You smile faintly, your body still tingling from the second orgasm. “Does this mean I get a reward every time I win something?”

Jungkook chuckles, his grip on you tightening slightly. “If this is how you plan to collect, then maybe we should make more bets.”

You laugh softly, leaning into your boyfriend as the TV continues to flicker in the background, forgotten by both of you.

For now, all that matters is being lost in the heat of the moment and Jungkook’s promise of more nights like this.

—

And done! Hope you enjoyed 🫶🏻 I would appreciate feedback :)

[rgbprose]

I agree it must be very frustrating to be Eliezer Yudkowsky, and I feel you're touching on a pretty important problem in practical epistemology here, that I've never seen a good solution to.

Basically, there are a lot of facially absurd positions for which people have presented sophisticated arguments. Every major religion and political faction has whole books specifically addressing, at length, the most obvious objections to their ideology.

(As a concrete example, I remember a post going around recently about how no Abrahamic religion has yet solved the Problem of Evil, and why exactly this represents a devastating flaw. Naturally, Catholic Tumblr started passing this around with an addition giving the apparently-well-known Catholic solution to the problem, which--based on the Tumblr summary--did not seem satisfactory to me.)

There aren't enough hours in the day to engage properly with all of these. So people do an unconscious VOI calculation: based on some combination of intuition, social consensus, presentation, the prestige of the proponents, etc., they get a rough sense of how likely the position is to be correct. If it seems very very unlikely, then it's not worth the time to read the sophisticated-looking arguments and unpick exactly why they're wrong.

This is obviously a terrible system! None of the factors that go into this unconscious calculation are remotely objective or reliable. But I don't know a better one.

Now you might reasonably say--as a matter of etiquette rather than epistemology--that if you've never read someone's arguments because you've dismissed them as absurd, then you should have the decency not to walk into their Replies section and present your totally uninformed arguments that they've already addressed a hundred times. And while I agree that's very rude, it also seems better than the alternative in a certain way? If someone is trying to advocate for a position and everyone is dismissing them as facially absurd and not reading their stuff, then they need to know that or they can't fix the problem.

one thing that makes me sympathize with yudkowsky is that in every public appearence he's had where he is trying to make his case for why AGI or ASI would be dangerous, noone ever seems to engage with his arguments at all. all he gets are bad counter argumens to the tune of "well, what if the AI is just nice" or "what is intelligence anyway?" or "why would the AI want anything?", "chat gpt seems pretty stupid today so im not worried" or the worst of all "seems like a wacky sci fi idea to me, people are just pushing this to hype up the technology"

i could understand why the man is seen as a crazy guy if he got actual substantial pushback but most people*seem to treat his arguments as if they were a lot more trivial and facile than they really are.

*there are a lot of good coherent objections to what he says but they are usually buried in some obscure comment section in less wrong or in some niche tumblr blog. the mainstream response he gets is more to the tune of "heh, that sounds silly"

[spirk-fic-recs]

Hi! This one might be a bit of a long shot, but I've had no luck so far despite both asking around and putting a hell of a lot of time into it, so I figured I'd see if you know what I'm looking for!

Just about the only thing I remember is this: Before Kirk became Captain, Spock was largely antisocial. He had no real friends or confidants. When Kirk joined the Enterprise, however, he puts effort into befriending Spock, and, to the shock of the crew, Spock responds well to this, becoming very nearly talkative once it becomes clear to him that Kirk is genuinely interested in what he has to say. I believe Uhura is the POV character for some of this, and she muses that she feels guilty that she never realized that Spock wasn't antisocial entirely by choice.

I think it was probably TOS (though it's always a toss up whether things are tagged properly), and it was probably decently short (under 14K), but neither of those are guarantees. It would have been complete, though.

(If you don't know the fic off the top of your head, don't feel too obligated to go searching - I've done a fair amount of that myself (and haven't given up yet), but frankly I am starting to worry that it's just been deleted since I first read it ���� so, uh. no need to trouble yourself overmuch!)

Hey @a-most-beloved-fool! Unfortunately this doesn't ring any bells for me, but I'd still like to give you some wholesome recs with Uhura's POV as well as her friendship with Mr. Spock /Jim 🥰 For anybody that knows which fic our friend is talking about, feel free to reply to this post so that we may locate it:) Uhura POV / Spirk-Uhura friendship fics:

Jim and Nyota's Guide to Friendship (TOS, 11382 words) by Solid_Medical_Advice

A collection of little stories in which Kirk and Uhura look after each other and love each other. These two are my absolute favourite platonic pairing, and I don't see enough friendship rep between these two! Some of the stories are episode- and movie-related, others are just silly thoughts I had. Updates as I come up with them.

Yellow Roses for Her, Orange Roses for Jim (AOS, 13978 words) by Misscar

How do you survive your break up when you must live and work with your ex? How do you move on to someone else without wrecking two very important friendships? Valentine's Day 2259 will be entertaining. This is a different type of love story. A Valentine's Day story for the rest of us.

Girl’s night (TOS, 4512 words) by T_Bar

Spock could not remember just when did he and Uhura become such good friends, nor could he recall when did she first invite him to spend the evening together watching ‘cheesy’ rom-coms from the twenty first century while she did his nails. He did however remember that tonight, they had yet again scheduled their “girl’s night”.

not my type (AOS, 7469 words) by soetry

Nyota now feels ridiculous for thinking that Commander The-Only-Reason-I-Don't-Always-Get-My-Way-Is-Because-I-Believe-In-Federation-Law Spock would ever actually let something go.

My absolute favorite. pure crack

Intemperate Hearts (AOS, 4077 words) by ByCandlelight

How could Spock be lonely?

Strange Spectacle (TOS, 12585 words) by batwonder

It is a well known fact across all known galaxies that Vulcans are a very private people. Be it in culture, civilian life… in all aspects of their lives, they keep to themselves. They do not encourage emotion or public displays of affection. Even the vulcans that are allowed to be more intimate, such as married couples, only seem to “touch their hands”, and nothing else. This is why, when James Tiberius Kirk, captain of the USS Enterprise, publicly stated that he was in a serious relationship with his Vulcan first-officer, people were… stunned, to say the least.

In this fic, Uhura makes an appearance in Ch. 2 hehe

Happy reading!

-M

[mewfistoe]

so this is another bit of that “we’re not dating but we also are dating/couple that’s not a couple” thing….

check out the end for an A/N on the dynamic and why they are the way that they are lmao

this time, you try to figure out Sylus’ hunter crush

———

The twins try to help. Really they do. They mean well. It’s just that, well, they’re young and impatient and the yearning is kind of driving them nuts. Anyway, one day, they get ahold of you at the Onychinus base and rope you into a conversation about Sylus. They heavily(HEAVILY) insinuate that the boss has a “crush” on a special hunter from the Association that you might be familiar with and well, this is the aftermath of that….

****

It was a funny sight. Sylus was currently crouched on the floor of your apartment, peering underneath your coffee table. He had dropped by earlier under the pretense of looking for a part of Mephisto’s wing that had fallen off the day before.

“….”

His lies were getting worse and you had no compunctions about telling him so.

“You can stop by just because you wanna say something or see me, y’know? You don’t always have to blame it on Mephie. That crow already has enough crimes to his name.”

You allow yourself a smug self-satisfied smile as he scoffs at your remark but still gives up the bit and stands up. “Besides, you built that crow. I highly doubt he’s so easily damaged.”

Sylus smiles as he gives you with a fond look. “Nothing gets by a hunter of the Association now does it?” he says lightly.

You smile back, and then in a slightly sing-song tone of voice reply, “Speaking of hunters from the Association and birds….another little bird told me something very interesting the other day. Two little birds actually…”

“Oh?” Strangely, Sylus seemed a little bit on guard at that, although he clearly didn’t want to show it. If you hadn’t grown so good at reading his micro-expressions you wouldn’t have noticed it at all. He fixes a smile on his face and tilts his head forward slightly “And what did these two little birds have to say that was so interesting?….”

You ignore how his smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes and continue on, your smile a bit more mischievous, “Well it was about this big mean crow that likes to bother hunters on their off time!”

The smile on his face doesn’t move at all as he waits for you to continue.

“These little birds told me that….this big mean crow might have a little crush on someone from the Hunter’s Association!”

Sylus stares at you for a second or two too long before giving a hearty laugh. “Is that so? Is that the sort of thing little birds tell you?” he chuckles, “You really should learn how to communicate with Mephisto better, sweetie. I promise you he is a much better conversationalist than whatever birds you’ve been chatting with.”

You ignore him, refusing to be swayed “Y’know…if this big mean crow would admit things out loud…maybe this hunter from the Association could actually be of some service.”

Sylus suddenly stiffens and he stares straight at you. It looks like he’s not even breathing for a few seconds. He licks his lips and swallows, strangely obvious nervous tics for a man who prides himself on staying calm in nerve-wracking situations. He seems to catch onto this himself and when he speaks, his voice comes out as smooth as always “Oh? And how would this Miss Hunter be of service to the big mean crow?”

“Wellll…for one, this Miss Hunter works at the Association!”

“Yes…she does, doesn’t she?” His eyes scan yours for something. You’re not sure what it is he’s looking for, so you go on.

“Yes! And, this Miss Hunter knows a LOT of hunters. Hunters that maybe this big mean crow has met before? Some very crush-worthy hunters? Maybe even a hunter named…” you pause a second for dramatic effect, eyes locked on his to catch any hint of emotion, “…TARA!” You say Tara’s name like it’s a gotcha moment.

Sylus stares blankly at you. No nervous widening of the eyes or quick inhale of breath at the name.

“…Tara?” you try again, “From the…”

He continues to stare at you. He looks like he’s wondering if you are unwell.

“No? Oh, hmm...” you pause to think for a second “….maybe…Lois?”

His brow furrows. “Sweetie, what are you-“

“….Simone? Did you, have you met Simone before? I can’t remember if she was there at karaoke that day or not…”

“…what? Simone who?”

“…Alex?” you try again, “Is it Alex? I know you met him at the resort too that time….”

You hem and haw for a bit. trying to think of other hunter’s that Sylus might have met before, “Jenna? Andrew? …Nero?”

Sylus has walked up to you quietly without you noticing. Large hands gently hold onto your shoulders and your face looks up to meet his gaze. He looks vaguely concerned.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

You sigh and stare him straight in the eyes. “I’m trying to figure out the hunter you have a crush on!”

He blinks.

“Luke and Kieran let on that you might have a little crush on a ‘certain special hunter’ from the Association, so I’m trying to figure out who it is!” you tell him.

His hands slip from your shoulders as he takes a step back and gives a deep sigh, “Oh kitten…”

“I know you met some of my coworkers when we had that retreat at your fancy resort that one time…but I guess you’ve probably run into other hunters too, given your…occupation,” you try to meet his gaze again but he has closed his eyes and is pinching the bridge of his nose gently.

“Hey, I’m trying to tell you that you can tell me!” You take a step towards him and he takes another sigh, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? If you tell me, I can help put in a good word for you!” you pause, “Secretly, kind of. Might have to stick with the Skye persona for a while at first.” You pause, “But I can totally be your wingman! Really!”

Sylus shakes his head slowly, seemingly exasperated. You take the opportunity to grab at his arm so he stops pinching his nose and looks at you.

“You can tell me. I promise.” Your voice is softer. He’s staring at you again, “I can even give you tips if I’m friends with whoever your crush is.” Your lips feel dry and you lick them before continuing, “Tara likes fortune-telling and gossip, she’s super friendly and already thinks Skye is a pretty interesting person. Not sure about your singing though…. Serenading her is definitely off the table. As for Simone, she’s super into mechanical stuff, she modifies our weapons at the Association. She’s really good at it! Ooh, you guys would have loads to talk about actually. If you like her, just show her Mephisto or your bike, she’ll love the modifications you’ve-“

“Stop.” Sylus presses a finger against your mouth. “Please, sweetie. Please. Just…” He takes a few seconds to look straight into your eyes before he closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath as he pulls his hand away. When he finally looks at you again, he seems tired. “Don’t listen to Luke and Kieran. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“But-“

“Shh. Let me finish. Trust me, sweetie. They don’t know what they’re talking about. They’re just messing with you. I don’t have a crush on any of your hunter friends at the Association.”

“…oh.” you bite your lip, “I thought…”

Sylus gives another sigh, this one more fond than tired or frustrated. He continues on breezily, as if trying to set the mood for a bantering session, “Really kitten, you shouldn’t make it so easy for them. If you keep on being so gullible they’ll never stop having fun at your expense…” You give a huff, Sylus pays it no mind and goes on, “Honestly, I thought maybe you’d gotten better at figuring out when they’re pulling your leg.” He gently prods your arm a bit, “You really thought I had my eye on one of your Association’s hunters?”

You pout and cross your arms. “I’m going to have some words with those two the next time I see them!”

Sylus smiles and cups your face gently to get a better look at your pout. “Mm…. You should spend some more time over at the Onychinus base, sweetie. Maybe you’ll start to catch onto their tricks better if you do. Get more used to it and all that.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead like he can’t help himself.

****

When Sylus returns home, he doesn’t say anything about the incident with you earlier. However, the twins do notice later that night that their schedules for the next few weeks are jam packed with all their least favorite tasks. They’re smart and they figure it out, even before you come over and give them each a heated earful about spreading silly rumors.

Best to keep their noses out of Sylus’ business with you, even if it was done with the best of intentions.

———

A/N: So, my MC and Sylus are in a friends-with-benefits kind of situation. It’s all kisses and cuddles and hangouts (and more) but hey, whoa, we’re not actually together.

Sylus, as he does, wants more. He actively wants and hopes for a serious relationship. My MC does too…but she also has major, major commitment issues and insecurity anxieties abt the whole thing. She’s afraid of losing herself in a relationship and also doesn’t want to read too deep into whatever weird kissy friendship they have, because what if Sylus is just messing around with her to mess around? He reads like he wants to be in a relationship with her but can she be so sure? So anyway, she also doesn’t want more a deeper relationship. This all makes her want to appear really extra okay and supportive of them not being together, and of any other romantic interests that might befall Sylus. Is she secretly a bit jealous at the thought? Yeah, but she’s never going to admit it.

You might notice Sylus staring into her eyes a lot. It’s cause he can see what she desires. And frankly what she wants is kind of a shitshow? She wants to be with him but she also doesn’t, and she wants to know that he’s serious but she also doesn’t want to know. Sylus isn’t 100% sure how to proceed with that and for as blunt as Sylus is, he always lets her take the lead in the relationship. I see him as being terrified of her getting scared or upset and avoiding him - so he doesn’t want to push her. And the result is that they’re kind of stuck in this push-pull couple-but-not-a-couple situationship.

tl;dr - Basically, I’m self-inserting my commitment issues into my MC. Because this is how it would probably have to go down if MC were actually like me.

[httpknjoon]

wanna try out some freaky positions? | myg

plot | that time popstar!yn is on her tour's day two in paris, and fans are wondering if she's finally doing the most requested position of all time. the one that may require her bassist (and rumored boyfriend), yoongi.

w.c | 1980

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, humor, enemies to lovers, slow burn

note | i'm still calling it twitter

main masterlist | series masterlist

DAY 301: PARIS, FRANCE

It's everywhere. Predictions about your possible Juno position for your second performance night in Paris are all over social media before you even officially land in the said country. It didn’t help that you and your band members are active on social media, alluding that something is happening behind the scenes. There were also sightings of your close friend, another celebrity, who you knew was staying in France for his vacation. Your fans, who were already elated with the upcoming performance later tonight, flooded you with mentions on Twitter, which resulted in a short and unplanned Q and A.

You were in the middle of your rehearsal break when you finally got hold of your phone after posting that late IG story hours ago. Knowing how excited your fans are at the moment, you reinstalled your Twitter app just to have some interactions with them. It has been so long since you opened your account there, since you were avoiding seeing any tweets about your breakup from last year. You smiled as you typed in your tweet, along with a photo you prepared for today, swaying your feet as you sat at the edge of the stage.

While you have all of your focus on your phone, you didn't even notice Yoongi, who's sitting on one of the empty seats in the area where the VIP audience usually sits. He cannot help but smile while he sips his Americano, looking at you. He wondered what made you so giggly and smiley on your phone. Meanwhile, his phone kept on vibrating in his pocket, which made him reach for it. That’s when he got the answer to his curiosity. Notifications from your Twitter account popped up one after the other. He chuckled before clicking on the app to read more of your tweets.

You giggled at the friendly banter you had with one of your fans. Scrolling down the tag, you smiled even harder when you found an interesting question to reply to.

Yoongi had to laugh with that one. Hearing that, you turned your head up, finally seeing him sitting alone just a few feet down the stage. Your left eyebrow raised, wondering what made him laugh on his phone.

“Where are the others?” you asked all of a sudden, just to get his attention.

Your bassist looked up and met your gaze. “They went out for snacks. I got your coffee here.”

He points out the still-warm takeout coffee cup he has on the empty seat next to him. You smiled before reading yourself to jump from the stage rather than taking the stairs. Seeing that, Yoongi immediately stood up.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’ll jump,” you replied, already inching yourself at the edge.

He clicked his tongue while shaking his head, “No, just take the stairs.”

You pouted. “This is easier. I hate the stairs.”

“You might get hurt. Art and Cal will both kill me if I let you do that,” he said while walking towards you. He then stood just a few feet lower than you.

From your point of view, he looked nonchalant, yet he opened both his arms.

You squinted, “Are you gonna catch me?”

“Nope, I just like opening my arms at random times like this,” he scoffed. 

You rolled your eyes. “And I like jumping from high places.”

He shook his head again before telling you sternly, “I don’t care. Just jump, diva.”

So you did. Even though you would have loved to continue the childish banter. And he did catch you, helping you carefully land your feet on the ground. Steadily and easily, he got you with one hand, holding you up against your back. Unconsciously, your face is almost buried in his neck, like you were magnets, they just connect instantly. Maybe it was because he still wore the familiar scent that makes butterflies stir in your stomach.

And maybe that’s why you didn’t pull away right away.

With how close you are, you can feel his heart beating almost at the same pace as yours. Fast and loud. Slowly pulling away, your eyes interlocked with each other. It was a heavy exchange of stares, anchored with something heart-fluttering that you two didn’t have to label anymore. A small smile tugged at your lips as you noticed his eyes moving down.

“Thank you,” you whispered before stepping back.

Yoongi followed behind you, trying not to put his heart over his beating chest. He sat in a seat apart next to you while you took a sip of the coffee. The much-needed caffeine helped you feel warmer and comfortable in your baby blue sweatshirt. 

“You liked it?” he asked even though he already knew the answer.

“Yep, I needed that. Thank you,” you replied, putting down the cup. You turned to him.  “Why are you here, by the way? You don’t want to explore the city in your free time? We’re only here for a few days.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I just had this gut feeling that you will do something reckless and I need to stick around.”

It was your turn to scoff, “Yoongi, just say you stayed behind for me. It’s okay.”

He looked at you, brows furrowed, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

And he didn’t even deny it, you thought to yourself.

As soon as everyone got back, the rehearsal resumed. This time, it was a dress rehearsal. So you had more time and room for errors and adjustments. While Art is talking with the band about something related to your time on stage, you take a quick scroll on your phone. You instantly took notice of a certain tweet getting a lot of attention. You laughed at it as it sparked something in your brain. You swiped up your finger on the app to see more tweets from your fans, but a notification from a verified account popped up. You turned around to see Yoongi raising his brows. You typed in your phone before giving it to your very pregnant assistant, Cal.

The fishbowl method.

That method is known to be Yoongi's greatest enemy. Whenever any staff member of your tour brings out that glass bowl that was filled with rolled papers, he just knows he will hear his name from that staff member’s tongue. And today is no different day.

It was during the second rehearsal break of the day when Cal came in holding the infamous transparent bowl.

“So, everyone, this is for the Juno performance. We need two people for tonight,” she said it like it’s gonna be something fun.

Although Yoongi literally had no idea why, everyone seemed to be excited upon hearing Cal’s instructions as they cheered, including you. Fred, who is happily married and permanently removed from choices for the Juno performance participants, sat along with you and your dancers. He was cheering too. For more variety, the fishbowl included the names of your band members and dancers.

“YN, will you do the honors of picking two names in our bowl of names?” Cal called you up. 

“Okay, here we go. Drumroll, please,” you quipped, but Fred followed, running to his drums and playing them.

Knowing his fate, Yoongi was not surprised anymore when he heard his name after Noah’s. He is not even disappointed or frustrated. He just accepted and expected that the fishbowl method loves him. But what he did not expect was the reason for today’s fishbowl method. While you explained your plan for tonight’s Juno performance pose, Yoongi just shook his head with a smile as he was already used to your straightforward poses. He just didn’t expect that you could be this creative for positions.

“So, do you want to be at the back or the front?” Noah asked, which can sound strange without context.

Yoongi blinked, “What?”

He was obviously dumbfounded, making the others laugh. You tried not to laugh while you bit off your inner cheek.

“He means for the Eiffel Tower,” you explained, which didn’t really clarify anything for him.

Noah cuts in to help, “We are basically the tower itself, while YN is the centerpiece. She will bend forward, and we-” he clasped his hands together, “Are gonna high-five over her.”

“That’s your Juno position for tonight?!” Yoongi looked at him, then to you.

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, the Eiffel Tower!”

When it finally registered in his head, everyone can see Yoongi’s shoulders deflating as he shakes his head with a smile. Just smiling over how stupid yet creative this whole thing is. His defeated stance made Fred and the dancers laugh. 

“I swear, we should change that fishbowl method,” he muttered, pushing his hair back.

“I think the fishbowl likes you a lot,” you teased him.

“I don’t think it was just the fishbowl,” he replied, making you pause while you three walk to the heart-shaped center stage.

Noah, who did not hear that last line since he walked faster, snapped his fingers, “Catch up, lovers. Let’s do this test run for the Eiffel Tower. I’m honestly starting to feel like the third wheel here.”

He said the name sarcastically, which resulted to you rolling your eyes and Yoongi scratching the back of his neck. You get into the position. You have your sparkly mic in your right hand, singing the last line before the pose. 

“Wanna try out some freaky position?” 

The guys stood on your front and back. Noah was on the front, while Yoongi was behind you.

“Have you ever tried… this one?” 

You bent forward as Yoongi and Noah high-fived over you, which instantly earned some whistling and cheers from your tour staff and dancers. You laughed, making you lose balance and accidentally grind against Yoongi. You only snapped out of it when he instinctively gripped your hips to steady you in place.

Noah, who saw this happen, gaped, “Oh my god, someone wash my eyes with holy water.”

Being the dramatic one, he threw up his hands and walked away in exaggerated disbelief. You and Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed to be in your own little world as you looked over your shoulder to look at him.

“Oops, sorry,” you said without really meaning it. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

You shrugged, standing back up, “Eh.”

Noah groaned from afar, leaning on one of the big speakers near their instruments, “Where is the HR for this tour?! I need to report something!”

The joke made everyone laugh. Akio, being the second most dramatic one in the band, dramatically consoled Noah. You stifled a laugh, turning around in their direction.

“Oh my god, you’re making me look like I’m a problem here.” you fed into their little bit that was going on.

Your best friend accusedly pointed out his finger, “You are the problem, and so is Tower B over there.”

Mr. Tower B, who stood next to you, remained casual as he muttered, “I don’t mind what’s going on. I kinda liked the view.”

The subtle smugness in his statement got a loud reaction from everyone. Fred laughed. The dancers howled. Akio and Noah groaned. The rehearsals are getting a little messier so Art had to step in.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s go rehearse the performance from the top again,” he signalled the dancers to stand up before turning to you and Yoongi. “And less thrusting, this time.”

You gasped even though you knew he was just teasing you, “There was no thrusting! I accidentally ground against him, that’s very much different!”

Art gave you a look that said, “Uh-huh, sure.”

Yoongi remained unbothered, “Yeah, thrusting is different. It requires intent.”

With that unexpected remark, the room erupted with laughter. All while your eyes widened, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Yoongi!” you scolded him through an embarrassed gritted grin.

He looked at you, nonchalant as he blinked innocently,  “What? I was just explaining!”

SERIES TAGLIST

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit @goodnight-n-go-home @ronyiboniyy @jimeg629 @lveegsoi @madussthoughts @jalexad @ryryvna @kiki-zb @kam9404 @rtyuy1346

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones @butnotmontana @mar-lo-pap @ficluvr613 @senaqsstuff @stars4kooo

[blue-marbles]

I finally got the time to reply to this. The post got far more replies than I thought; thank you for all your input on the topic! Instead of replying to everyone individually I will tag this onto the longest thread of discussion, for simplicity’s sake, but I read all of your replies.

So the broad consensus seems to be that Mandos give a shoes off indoors vibe, and “The Mandalorians: People and Culture” explicitly agrees with that. (I know the article, but I always keep forgetting it exists.) However, as @bardan-jusik points out, they don’t always seem to actually do that in the books (vor’e for looking it up!). So much for what the source material is giving us.

Now, from a cosplayer point of view, folks brought up the aspect of practicality. It very much depends on your beskar’gam and how many/which plates/which boots you got on your feet and lower legs how easy it is to take them off. I wonder though if that is easier solved in-universe. While we have to work with 21st century earth options, e.g. strap systems, velcro, etc. for putting on the plates, the Mandos in universe have fancy space tech, with the plates just attaching to their set spot on the flak-vest/undersuit. We also know from the Republic Commando books that at least the undersuit of the Katarn class armour can be easily unsealed segment by segment, but is vacuum tight when sealed. No idea how it works, but whatever technology they use for that could potentially also be used to easily open and close boot fastenings and make them easier to take off. Whatever these technologies are, they don’t seem to be sensitive to EMP grenades. Imagine, somebody throwing an EMP grenade at you, and all your armour just falls off, and parts of your clothes unseal. That would be… unfortunate.

Then, a lot of people agreed that it probably also depends on where you are and how safe you feel. Safety of your own home? Shoes can come off. Home of a person you don’t fully trust? Shoes stay on. Combat zone? Shoes definitely stay on. Absolutely makes sense.

It made me wonder though what the implications might be amongst Mandos. (So not Mandos visiting some aruetiise, or aruetiise visiting Mandos, but Mandos visiting the home of other Mandos.) Given that Mandalorians seem to be considered shoes-off in legends canon, keeping yours on might have implications. It shows that you don’t trust your host, that you are expecting trouble, or even plan on causing trouble. So I guess it might be a very passive-aggressive move and be frowned upon. I guess it might be a bit like how handshakes evolved as a way of showing that you do not hold a weapon: You could take your boots off to show that you are not here to cause trouble. @lia-said-clone-rights had some really good input on those ideas, too. It is not in the thread I am replying to, but y’all can find it in the reblogs.

I also found your input, @skierunner, super interesting, both in regards to the military pov, and also the travel trailer thing. I like the idea that inside Mando homes, there might be more nuances of where to maybe wear boots and where to definitely not. Though I’d say it also depends on the state of your boots. If you walked around in a more or less urban environment, paved roads, maybe a bit of dust on your boots it might be an entirely different matter compared to your boots being covered in mud, undefined space goo, and blood. And I think regular cleaning/sweeping/mopping makes a lot of sense for Mandos, too.

Now, I want to add something from my own experience. I am in archaeology. On dig-sites, I have to wear S3 safety boots for safety reasons. Depending on the situation, we also might wanna wear a helmet, and most of the time you also will wear gloves. While what we actually try to achieve is totally different to what soldiers do, obviously, I do see parallels. We walk around in different, possibly unpaved terrain, sit around in trenches, and depending on what we do, we might even lie down flat in the dirt. From my experience, my boots get extremely dirty. I would not enter my home (or anybody’s, really) wearing them. I do not even enter our mudroom with them, take them off in front of the front door. There have even been days when I walked along my road barefoot because I felt bad about literally leaving a muddy trail. But thinking about this made me realise that Mando might not just have dirty boots, depending on what they were doing, but dirty armour in general. Now I wonder how that is being handled. You might not wanna put your mud-smeared bum on your buir’s couch, I guess. On digs, I usually use a horse brush to brush down my clothes before going home. The dirtiest non-boot areas are usually the knees, the buttocks, and the palms/fingers.

So in summary: It probably depends on were you are, how safe you feel, how much time you got, what social message you want to send, and how dirty you are. If you have the option because those factors are right, you take them off though. Also, I guess while never specifically described, Mandos might commonly have some sort of mud-room, including some option to store your boots, or to brush them/the rest of you down.

Lastly, I had the idea that Mandos might have some sort of armoured slipper/house shoes situation. Keeps your feet warm, but also offers at least some protection. I imagine something like “Hüttenschuhe”. I tried to find a good English term for them, but failed. Literally translates to hut shoes. They are a type of house shoe that originated from hikers/mountaineers in the Alps. They are designed to be easily stored and carried when hiking, are warm, easy to put on/off, and are also shaped in a way that makes them sit securely on your feet so you can, e.g. climb up ladders, or even run. Now, imagine putting some sort of armour on them and only wearing them indoors. Like beskar'gam they come in fun colours. Might be an option if you want the protection but not the dirt of your outdoor boots.

I am trying to sleep, but I can't because my mind is stuck on one question:

Are Mandalorians a shoes on or shoes off culture when they are at someone's/their home?

Let me elaborate. As you probably know, in some cultures, you take off your outdoor shoes once you enter a private living space (not a store, or public building, etc.). In others, you seem to commonly keep your shoes on. And in some, it seems to be more of a case-by-case thing.

But what do Mandalorians do?

Boots do belong to beskar'gam, and beskar'gam is very important, culturally. The mental image of people hanging out in full armour but in socks is a bit weird, too. And in case something happens, you want to be ready and not have an entire aliit hurry to put boots on, right?

But then again, that somehow does not feel right. I cannot put my finger on why, though. I guess it might be both my own background as a firm 'no shoes in homes' person, but also the fact that, doing what they do, their boots would probably be rather dirty. Like, imagine the dirt you'd bring back in with you. Just as if you went hiking and came in with your dirty shoes. So, from that angle, it might make sense for them to actually take off their shoes.

The worst thing is, it is not even relevant. I am not working on any fic, or picture, or whatever I would need that information for. It is just a random thing my brain decided to latch on. And since I can't decide on what makes more sense:

Which one do you think is it? What makes more sense considering Mandalorian culture? Are there maybe even snippets of text that I can't remember that support either one or the other? Any thoughts, anyone?

[jeremiahhawkinsfanfics]

JAYCE TEACH VIKTOR TO COOK AREPAS 🥘🥰🤭

They are cooking dinner for Ximena who caught the flu ❤️

Extract from Loving is Caring - Chapter 6

Read the whole fic on AO3 😊

“I should start making dinner,” Jayce said, lifting his head from the blueprint he was working on. “Mama will need to go to bed early.”

“Do you need any help?” Viktor asked absently, bent over a schematic, checking the dimensions.

“Well, I guess I can always use a cooking partner.”

Viktor lifted his head, sudden concern flashing in his eyes, as if he had just realized what he had offered to help with. Without saying anything, he stood up and followed Jayce to the kitchen. Jayce noticed the subtle look of unease on his face. Viktor, usually so composed, was clearly stepping out of his comfort zone. Jayce realized then that cooking might not be something Viktor was familiar with. For some reason, Viktor seemed to cling to the lifestyle of an Academy student, which meant living in a dorm and eating cafeteria food. He had no idea if Viktor had any cooking skills at all… But probably his mother would have taught him.

“Don’t worry, Vik,” Jayce reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do great.”

Jayce began to search the cupboards, considering meal ideas. He needed something comforting, not too heavy or spicy for his mother’s stomach, but also something Viktor would enjoy. That part wasn’t too difficult—Viktor wasn’t exactly picky.

“Have you ever tried ajiaco, Vik?” Jayce asked, handing him an apron.

“I’ll assume that’s a rhetorical question,” Viktor replied with a laugh, tying the apron around his waist and heading to the sink to wash his hands.

“It’s a chicken soup with corn and potatoes—we usually serve it with rice.”

“Sounds promising,” Viktor replied from the sink.

“I’m glad you like the idea. Since we're two in the kitchen, we could make something else to go with it. Maybe… do you have any recipes you’d like to share?”

“A… recipe?” Viktor asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeah, like… a family recipe?”

For a moment, Viktor’s expression shifted—something darker flickered in his eyes.

“I… I don’t exactly have family recipes, Jayce,” he admitted, his voice quiet but laden with regret.

Jayce’s heart sank. It hit him in that moment just how different their upbringings had been. Cooking had always been a central part of his family life. It wasn’t just about passing on tradition; it was a way of showing love and care, a core bonding time between him and his mother. His mother used to say, “There’s no better way to tell someone you love them than by cooking them a good meal.” Jayce simply couldn’t imagine his life without all those recipes that shaped his childhood, all those moments spent with his mother cooking and laughing. The thought of Viktor not having those moments with his own mother was painful. But Jayce wasn’t going to let his friend miss out any longer. “Better late than never” he thought.

“You can learn ours, then!” Jayce decided, his voice brightening with determination. “Come on, let’s teach you how to make arepas!”

Jayce quickly moved around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients before Viktor could even think of protesting. He didn’t notice the small, emotional smile that curled on Viktor’s lips.

Jayce set out the cornmeal, flour, salt, and water in front of Viktor. As Jayce went to gather the ingredients for the ajiaco, Viktor studied the powders before him, as if analyzing their chemical composition.

“So… what am I supposed to do exactly? Just… mix it all up?”

“Start with the cornmeal and a teaspoon of salt,” Jayce explained, “then add the water gradually until it reaches the right texture. You’ll only need the flour for your hands when we shape them—so the dough doesn’t stick.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“What exactly does ‘right texture’ mean? You don’t have any precise measurements?”

Jayce shrugged.

“Not really. The dough should be smooth but not too sticky. You’ll know when it’s right. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

Viktor sighed, muttering something about “vague instructions”, “terrible lack of precision” and “not guaranteeing any result”. He added water and began to mix the dough with his hands.

“I guess the secret of the Talis Family arepas lies in these mysterious quantities?” Viktor asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

“For that, you’ll have to ask my mom,” Jayce replied with a chuckle. “I only know her recipes, not her secrets.” He washed his hands at the sink, looking thoughtful. “I have no idea how she does it, but whenever she cooks, even if we do the exact same thing, her food always tastes better.”

“Just like your coffee in the morning…” Viktor noted with an amused chuckle.

Jayce frowned, curious.

“What about the coffee?”

“Nothing…” Viktor said quickly. “I just… I think it always tastes better when you make it. I haven’t been able to figure out why… Do you change the settings on the machine or something?”

Jayce blinked in confusion. “That’s weird. I don’t do anything different. I just clean the mug, press the button, and give it to you. I can’t think of anything I do differently.”

Viktor’s expression turned more serious.

“Maybe we should conduct some tests to find the best process for coffee. I’m curious to know what makes it taste different.”

“That sounds like a good idea!” Jayce agreed, returning to his tasks. The motions in the kitchen were second nature to him now—he prepared the chicken legs and set them to simmer in a pot of water. While the chicken cooked, Jayce set up his work station at the kitchen table in front of Viktor, chopping corn and peeling potatoes with practiced ease. He had done this countless times, and it showed in the way he moved.

While working, Jayce occasionally glanced at his partner. It's was quite an unique sight: Viktor wearing an old and worn apron, mixing cornmeal and water with excessive care, as though he was worried about messing it up at any step. He looked deeply focused, his hands moving with purpose, his eyes scanning the dough, searching for the “right texture.” “Damn, he almost… cute!” Jayce thought, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He quickly washed the rice at the sink and set a second pot on the stove.

“Looks like you’re getting there,” Jayce remarked as he returned, seeing that the dough was starting to come together.

“Do I?”

“Yes! It looks perfect! Come on, let’s shape them.”

Jayce moved closer to Viktor, so close that their shoulders brushed. He dampened his fingers in flour and pinched a small amount of dough, shaping the arepas with ease. His hands knew the motions more than his mind did, the movements instinctive, shaped by years of tradition. As he worked, Jayce felt a swell of pride—he was passing on this knowledge to someone else for the first time. It felt good to share something so deeply tied to his heritage. Everyone deserved to have family recipes they could cherish, and Jayce was happy to offer Viktor this piece of his life.

Viktor’s long fingers carefully mimicked Jayce’s movements, his eyes intent on every detail, trying to replicate them as perfectly as possible. His expression was one of deep concentration—much like when he worked on their prototypes or solved complex equations. It took him twice as long as Jayce to shape a single arepa, but each one that he placed on the plate was flawless—rigorously the same size and shape.

“You’re doing great!” Jayce encouraged as he moved to the stove to skim the broth.

“Eh, I wouldn’t want to mess up your family recipe,” Viktor chuckled. “And you’re doing much better than me. I’ve barely managed to mix three ingredients together, and you’ve already done so much. How do you know what to do? You don’t even have a recipe!”

“I had a great teacher,” Jayce replied with a soft smile, thinking of his mother, who had patiently taught him these movements over the years.

He removed the chicken from the broth and set it aside on a cutting board, then added the potatoes, corn, cumin, and oregano to the pot before covering it to simmer. A satisfied smile spread across his face in anticipation to the rich, comforting scent that would soon fill the kitchen.

Jayce returned to the table to mince the chicken, feeling the same sense of calm that came when they worked together in the lab. Cooking together felt so natural, so warm—so domestic. The kitchen buzzed with energy, alive with the rhythm of their work. It was like their lab had moved into this room, simply because they were together. With delight, he realized cooking was one more thing he loved doing with Viktor. Jayce couldn’t help but glance at Viktor again, watching the adorable frown on his face and the intense focus in his eyes as he carefully shaped the arepas, flour staining his hands up to his elbows.

“Does this look… satisfying?” Viktor asked, scrutinizing his work.

“Vik! They look amazing!” Jayce exclaimed. “Come on, let’s cook them!” he said, turning toward the stove, missing the relieved smile that spread across Viktor’s face.

They moved to the stove, and while Viktor cooked the arepas in the pan, Jayce checked on the ajiaco. As he lifted the lid, the delicious, heartwarming aroma of the broth rose to meet him—chicken and potatoes, underlined by the comforting scents of oregano and cumin.

Viktor’s eyes lit up as the scent reached his nose. Without thinking, he inhaled deeply.

“Oh Janna, that smells so good!” he marveled.

“Magic of the herbs,” Jayce chuckled, grabbing the minced chicken and adding it to the pot. “Almost ready. Want to taste?”

Viktor nodded eagerly, and Jayce carefully spooned some of the soup into a spoon. He made sure to scoop up a bit of potato, chicken, and corn, then held it up to Viktor's mouth.

Viktor hesitated for a moment, considering the spoon held to his mouth – “probably because it’s still quite hot” Jayce thought. Then, slowly, Viktor leaned in and took the bite, his lips gently wrapping around the spoon. Jayce couldn’t help but notice how his partner’s lips moved on the metal, how soft they looked. Before his thoughts could wander, Viktor’s face caught his attention. As soon as he tasted the soup, his eyes seemed to sparkle with delight.

“Jayce… It’s delicious!” Viktor exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. “Janna, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted… What did you put in this?”

The compliment hit Jayce straight in the heart. He felt a warm bloom of pride, realizing how much Viktor liked his cooking. He took a second spoon and tasted the soup himself.

“Yeah… well, not as good as my mother’s. I don’t know what her secret is. I’m sure she’s hiding some secret ingredient or something... Come on, time to try your arepas!”

Viktor held his breath as they turned toward the plate where he had carefully piled the golden arepas, fresh from the pan.

“They look perfect!” Jayce exclaimed. “If I didn’t know you, I would never have guessed it was your first try!”

“Hope they taste just as good…” Viktor muttered, his voice a little uncertain.

“Only one way to find out!”

Jayce picked up a hot arepa, blew on it to cool it down, and broke it in half so they could both try it.

The moment Jayce took a bite, he knew they were perfect—crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, just as they were meant to be. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how naturally Viktor seemed to pick things up. His partner looked at him, waiting expectantly.

“They’re super good, Vik!” Jayce said, grinning. “Authentic Talis arepas. You’re officially family now—you can bear the Talis name with pride.”

He said it jokingly, but when Viktor looked away with a soft, sincere smile and a faint blush, Jayce’s heart warmed. He didn’t fully understand what the words meant to him, but Jayce was glad he could offer them.

They moved to the dining room, setting the table together, feeling a sense of completion after their shared work.

“Sit, Mama,” Jayce invited his mother as she arrived. “We made ajiaco for dinner—will it be okay for you? And Viktor made arepas.”

Jayce caught a brief flash of pride in Viktor’s eyes when he placed the plate on the table.

“My, this all smells amazing, boys!” Ximena exclaimed, her smile warm and fond. “You didn’t have to do all this!”

“Of course we had to, Mama,” Jayce replied, already serving her a full plate of ajiaco, rice, and a few arepas.

As they sat around the table, the sun had set, and the snow outside intensified, the wind howling against the Talis house windows. But Jayce didn’t mind.

People often assumed that Jayce hated winter because he feared the snow would harm him, but that wasn’t true. Jayce hated winter because he feared the snow could harm his loved ones. His gaze flicked between Viktor and his mother, both happily eating the meal they had prepared together. They were safe, warm, and protected from the fury of the snowstorm outside, enjoying the comfort of a hot meal. Jayce’s heart swelled with a sense of duty fulfilled—today, he had taken care of them. With a soft, relieved smile, he allowed himself to relax, content in the moment.

The dining room became a cocoon of warmth, filled with lighthearted conversations and laughter, even despite his mother’s illness.

“These arepas are delicious, Viktor!” Ximena complimented, taking another bite. “Was it really the first time you made them? I’m impressed!”

“I-it’s nothing,” Viktor stammered, shifting uncomfortably. “Jayce taught me everything.”

“Oh, don’t be so modest, boy! They’re perfect! You’re an official Talis now!” Ximena teased, her smile playful.

By now, Viktor should have known better than to engage with Ximena Talis’ playful banter, but it was too tempting for him.

“Doesn’t it take marrying a Talis to become one?” Viktor smirked, joking back.

Ximena’s smile widened mischievously—almost devilish—as she turned to her son.

“Well, Jayce, you know what you have to do!”

Her words hit them both like a punch to the chest. Jayce choked slightly on his food as he almost swallowed wrong, and Viktor quickly hid his face in his hands, embarrassed, instantly regretting his words. Ximena laughed wholeheartedly, her gaze only softening when she was done enjoying her little victory.

“Your ajiaco is excellent too, Jayce,” she smiled, more kindly now. “Exactly what I needed today.”

Read more on AO3 😊

[inkly-heart]

please don’t be sad little sprout, you are loved 🌱 🖤

🌱

[asgardian--angels]

....idk in a fandom this gigantic how are people already coalescing onto a handful of popular headcanons and scenarios that just become the baseline now, when the source material gives us literally limitless possibilities to work with

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[wolverinedoctorwho]

How many things am I gonna try thinking "oh this will finally reveal to me whether I'm trans" before one of them actually *works*. I'm tired of this grandpa.

[lighthouseborn]

Pre-established jumping-off points I think would be fun to have in various verses that you should tell me if any of them sound like a thing you might want or if they give you a different idea! :

Pen pals!! met once and kept contact or a letter went astray and kept contact or (modern verse(s)) originally met online and have only ever emailed/texted/whatever– etc. etc., set up for letter/message threads and the "we've known each other but are meeting in person for the first time" thing down the road(!!!)

Henry saved them from drowning (or some other grand catastrophe, drowning just amuses me lol) once

Henry hustled them/otherwise mildly conned them them, once. it was probably for a good reason. probably.

Henry sought them out for a reason related to their profession once or twice or a few times and left an impression because he always Remembers the things they talk about, in their brief conversations, and asks about them later

FWB because your muse is from one of the port towns/other places Henry passes through somewhat regularly and it just sort of happened the first time, and since then every time he’s there he’s comes knocking & they spend the night and tell stories about the things they’ve done since they saw each other last. And then they go back to their daily lives and it’s understood that one day he might not pass through or when he does they’ll have made a new life with no space for him in it and this is not sad or a point of contention it’s just how they work.

FWB and it's specifically because your muse is dissatisfied with but trapped in their current relationship

Worked together once or several times or once but it was for an extended time (e.g. on a voyage, doing odd jobs in modern verse)

Were once on differing sides of some kind of conflict for some reason and are now meeting under different circumstances and they’re trying to feel out if their past is reconcilable or if they’re going to keep being on differing sides of things

Your muse hid Henry from somebody he was running from (or assisted in another way, he was injured or needed supplies, etc.) and when they cross paths again he remembers(!) them by name

In modern/modern-adjacent verses; they knew each other from school or a social setting or some such when younger, but Henry's family moved around a lot and so he and your muse fell out of contact, and now they are re-meeting

[bejeweledmp3]

tell me why i'm considering opening the doc and writing fanfiction during my lunch break. ON MY PHONE

[tariah23]

watching naruto for the first time (technically). sasuke is so cool and awesome i get why so many people drew fan art of him hes so badass

HES GREAT!!! I’m so happy that you decided to give Naruto a chance anon (this could be a huge mistake though but idk how much brain damage it’ll give someone much older vs someone who’d been a fan of it since they were a child… it lobotomized me 🧍🏾‍♀️. I was in the trenches watching the 3 day Naruto marathon, anon. I didn’t sleep for 3 DAYS-. And once you’ve become a Naruto fan, it’s just one of those series that will pull you back regardless of how long you’ve actually been way… and the anime is great but it does change a lot of the nuance and tension between Sasuke and Naruto when Kishimoto would directly straight up have them saying and doing whatever it is that they’re doing, for each other (especially whenever Naruto talks about Sasuke and his feelings about him. He’s insane-) vs how the anime would try to make Naruto’s actions seem as though he was doing this all for Konoha, his home that treated him like shit ever since he was a baby.) I’m getting off topic but if you do decide to continue, PLEASE IGORE SASUKE FANS LIKE THE PLAGUE ANSSJSKL!!!!

[wwinterwitch]

friendly introductions – bucky barnes

summary: bucky unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, and he's brought a few people with him

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (ft. the thunderbolts*)

word count: 3.4k

tags: thunderbolts* shenanigans, spoilers here and there obvs, slight miscommunication, big happy dysfunctional family in the making, google translator was used for the russian words (sorry), kissing, little bit of angst and little bit of fluff

notes: i just saw the movie yesterday and as soon as i got back home i decided to write this, which is loosely connected to this fic i posted recently. i just loved the thunderbolts* so much they mean the entire world to me right now. perhaps more fics are coming in the future because i have lots of ideas!!! as always, i hope you enjoy

please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | part 1 (not strictly necessary to read this one tho) | next part

“Sorry for such short notice,” Bucky mutters as soon as you open the door for him and the rest of the entire group. You could tell he’s been having a pretty rough time just by looking at him. Hair messy, frowning more than usual, dirty clothing and a cut on his left cheek. The rest of the people he’s with don’t look any better. It wouldn’t take an expert to figure out they’ve been in some kind of combat and, most likely, they didn’t come on top. 

“It’s okay,” you quickly reassure him, leaving the door open until every single one of them were inside your apartment, closing it behind them. “Can I ask what happened?”

“We…uh, got our ass kicked, basically,” he replies, sounding quite exhausted. 

You take a second to look at the group. Unfamiliar faces of people you could only assume are in the superhero/villain/whatever business. There’s a blonde woman who immediately leans against one of the walls of your living room, trying to get some sort of rest after the fight. The other woman stays by the entrance and you can’t help but admire how cool her suit is. There’s algo a guy in a red suit and he looks absolutely huge and terrifying, but the smile he sends your way with the silly little wave he makes as you make eye contact gives you the impression that he might not be as intimidating as you initially thought.

And then, your eyes focus on the other person in the room.

“You,” is all you say, your voice sounding anything but welcoming.

Everyone turns to look at Walker, who offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, hi.”

“You two know each other?” the blonde one asks.

“Unfortunately,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the guy at all times. You know enough about John Walker to be stupid enough to let him out of your sight. “Listen, I don’t know what just happened to you guys, but in case Bucky hasn’t warned you already, you can’t trust this piece of shit.”

Noticing you’re starting to get a little heated by his presence, Bucky wraps an arm around your waist from behind, just in case you decide to go over him and confront him for everything that has happened in the past. “It’s okay. He’s here to help.”

You turn to look at him like he just said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard in your life, but he simply stares back at you with a serious expression, nodding as if to emphasize on his previous statement, trying to let you know you can actually trust the guy. When you turn back to look at Walker, he raises both hands in the air as a sign to further prove that he’s harmless.

“I’ll be keeping an eye out,” you warn him, pointing your finger at him. 

“That’s fair,” he nods.

“Whoa, she’s feisty!” you hear the excited voice of the guy in the red suit as he lets out a short chuckle. “I like her already!”

You feel Bucky’s grip around your waist tightening. “We’re just here to get some cover and figure out our next move.”

Suddenly remembering the fact that all these strangers are standing in various spots in your living room, you get away from Bucky to walk over to your couch. “Oh, so sorry! What a terrible host,” you attempt to joke a little in hopes of lightening the mood, quickly removing your laptop and various papers scattered across your couch. “Please, take a seat!”

None of them move at first, but they eventually accept the invitation and walk towards your couch to sit down. All except Walker, who decides to stay in the same spot he’s been since he entered your apartment. Not like you care, so you just let him stand there on his own.

A few awkward introductions later and you already know everyone. Alexei, Ava and Yelena. One a total stranger and the others slightly familiar to you due to them being related to Natasha. You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name out loud, though. If you struggle to think about her without bursting out crying, you can’t even imagine what it would be like for her dad and sister. Last thing you want is to cause them any discomfort.

“And how exactly do you know each other?” Yelena asks you and Bucky after you introduce yourself to them too.

“Former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent,” Bucky replies before you can say anything, and you can’t help but turn to look at him with a slightly confused expression. “We’ve been friends for a very long time.”

Friends. Sure. Whatever. If that’s what he wants to call it…

After what happened last time you were in D.C., Bucky was constantly making trips to New York to visit you. You’re not officially dating, but it’s established that you’re exclusive. Long distance isn’t ideal, but you’ve made it work so far. Probably the happiest months of your life. But now…you hear him introducing you as his friend. It’s not really a big deal. Technically you are friends? It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, but…you’re internally fuming right now.

Still, you decide not to say anything regarding that. He’s always been quite a reserved person, so perhaps he didn’t feel comfortable enough to share that information with them just yet. “Can I get you anything to drink?” you decide to ask, looking at everyone else.

“We’re not-”

“I’m sure a glass of water won’t kill anybody,” you say, immediately cutting Bucky off.

There’s a brief silence before Ava speaks. “I’ll have a glass of water. Thank you.”

You look at Yelena as she shortly nods before you focus on Alexei. “Do you perhaps have something else other than water?”

“Dad,” Yelena warns him.

You ignore that short interaction. “Something like what?”

“Like vodka,” he replies simply, like it’s a normal request. Perhaps the russian accent and the fact that he does look like a walking Soviet propaganda adds context to it.

“Dad!” Yelena repeats herself, this time in a louder voice, before hiding her face in her hands. The scene of her getting embarrassed by her dad’s behavior is actually hilarious.

“Two glasses of water and one glass of vodka, got it.” Then it was time to acknowledge Walker again. Even when you deeply hate the guy, you still want to be polite. “Do you want anything?”

“Uh…just water,” he mutters, still unsure on how to really talk to you. It’s ironic how quiet he is right now, considering he had a hard time shutting his mouth when you first met him. “Thank you.”

You offer the group a smile before excusing yourself to go to your kitchen, leaving them momentarily alone. Bucky was about to speak, wanting to initiate a debate on what their plan is going to be to fight against someone as powerful and seemingly invincible as Sentry, but Yelena speaks before he does.

“Now, would you mind telling us how you really know each other?”

Bucky looks immediately confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know I was trained to be a spy since I was very little.”

“Surely you don’t say it enough,” Walker mutters, earning an unamused look from her.

“That must really bother you, Mr. I-was-in-the-military,” Ava chimes in, rolling her eyes.

Ignoring both of them, Yelena decides to continue. “I’m very good at reading people, Bucky. She almost wanted to punch you in the face when you said you two were friends, which let’s me know the comment upset her,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “Why is that?”

“Ah! That’s your lover!” Alexei comments with pleasant surprise.

“And you didn’t introduce her as your girlfriend?” Ava says shortly after, giving him a disapproving look. “No wonder she would want to punch you in the face.”

“Yeah, that’s not cool, man,” Walker agrees from his spot in the living room.

Alexei’s cheerfulness dries down, nodding. “I agree. It’s not very nice.”

Bucky scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest in a defensive manner. He couldn’t believe these people were judging him over something he thought was meaningless. It was just a way to keep his private life private. Why should they know he’s dating anybody? They’re not his friends to be sharing information like that with them. And it’s not like they’re ever going to see you again anyway. Why is this such a big deal?

“Whoever I date or don’t date it’s not your business,” he simply replies.

Ava scoffs this time. “Don’t bring us to your girlfriend’s flat then.”

“When did you guys became a thing?” Walker asks this time, looking like he's thinking back on it in hopes of remembering any indication that might've gave it away.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, getting more and more exasperated. “We barely got out of that fight against Valentina’s experiment and it’s a matter of time before we have to face him again. Why are we even talking about this?”

“Oh, Bucky,” Yelena shakes her head in a condescending manner. “You’re right, we do not care about your lovelife. Thinking about it makes me sick, actually. But she looked really hurt by what you said, so perhaps you should go talk to her and make things right.”

The other three agreed with Yelena almost immediately, and Bucky just stood there looking at them in disbelief because why are they giving him their input on his relationship? Why is Yelena giving him advice? Why are they getting involved in Bucky’s personal life?

But instead of arguing, he decides to listen to them and heads towards the kitchen. He walks in just in time to see you pouring Alexei an entire glass of vodka as he requested, the other three glasses of water already filled.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” you say nonchalantly, like what Yelena said about you wanting to punch him in the face was just something she misread in your body language. You surely don’t look like you're thinking about violence right now. “Could you help me with the drinks, please?”

Perhaps Yelena was wrong, but just in case she wasn’t, he decided to ask about it. “Are you okay?”

You let out a quick and confused chuckle as you store away the almost finished bottle of vodka. “Why would I not be okay? If you’re asking because you brought them here, I think they’re actually very nice…aside from Walker, of course.”

“No, I mean…the way I introduced you to them,” he says in a soft voice, walking closer to you. “I probably shouldn’t have said you were my friend.”

There’s a brief pause between you, until you’re eventually shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” he insists, standing right before you as he grabs your hands in his. “Talk to me.”

You hesitate a little before eventually giving in. “I mean, you can’t expect me to be thrilled to hear you introduce me to a bunch of people as just your friend.”

Bucky sighs. Yelena was right. “I’m so sorry,” he says almost immediately, giving your hands a light squeeze. “I just met these people and I highly doubt we’ll keep in touch after this. I didn’t want to share that information with them. We’re not exactly…close like that,” he explains himself, looking genuinely sorry for what he said. “I should’ve considered how that would make you feel, or at least tried to explain why I did it as soon as I could. I didn’t mean to hurt you or downplay what we have.”

You can tell he’s genuinely sorry, understanding his reasoning behind it. Perhaps you forgot to put into perspective the fact that they’re just super people Bucky has been forced to work with. Not necessarily friends. “It’s okay, I understand.”

Bucky nods, but he still looks absolutely defeated. “I feel terrible,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

You let go of his hands, wrapping your arms around his neck instead. “It’s okay, babe,” you repeat, offering him a soft smile to let him know you forgive him. “I understand you didn’t feel comfortable sharing that with them.”

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

“You’re not obligated to disclose anything with anyone if you don’t feel like it,” you say, just to remind him to do whatever it feels right to him. “But I’m glad we had this conversation to hear each other’s perspective.”

He nods again, still uncertain. You lean in to give him a reassuring kiss before deciding to move away from him to get back to the living room with the rest. He hands the glasses of water to Walker and Yelena, while you hand the other glasses to Ava and Alexei.

The last one takes a big gulp of his glass, letting out a growl of approval. “Smirnoff! Not that Absolut der’mo!”

“I adore him,” you say to Bucky, letting out a quick chuckle as you watch the guy drink the entire glass of vodka in less than two seconds.

“It’ll pass, trust me,” he mutters back to you.

You gently hit his arm as a way of telling him to not be rude, immediately focusing on the cut on his cheek, dried blood around the wound. “I should clean that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I do worry, Bucky,” you insist, patting his shoulder before pointing to one of the two chairs at your small dinner table. “Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”

You excuse yourself to go find the first-aid kit to clean the wound on his face. By the time you get back, the group has already started discussing some sort of strategy regarding some ‘Sentry’ person you don’t know absolutely anything about. Perhaps you’ll ask Bucky to give you a proper update on what the hell this whole thing is all about next time you’re alone.

As obedient as ever, Bucky was already sitting on one of the chairs you previously pointed at before leaving, so you walked over to him to attend to his injury. Even if it was a small, almost insignificant little cut, you wanted to take care of him in any capacity you could.

You were gladly surprised when you feel one of his arms wrapping around you, keeping you close as you stand next to him cleaning the dry blood with a small cotton ball before disinfecting the area, finishing it off with a small bandage above the cut. 

The whole entire time you took care of Bucky’s wound, the group was talking about their strategy. Just listening to them was enough to figure out why Bucky didn’t think they’d stay in touch once it’s time to part ways. More than half of their interactions are more bickering than actual communication. They clash almost constantly and they don’t seem to agree on much. They’re quite honestly a complete mess. But still...even when it’s difficult to see how a group like this could work, they oddly do. There’s just something about them. Perhaps they’re the prime example of how opposites tend to work together perfectly. 

“Done,” you whisper to him, not warning to interrupt their conversation.

“Thanks, doll,” he whispers back, giving you a smile.

After a few more minutes of planning, it was finally time for them to get back out there in hopes to put an end to the threat that seems to loom over New York (and perhaps the entire world). You accompany them to the door, all of them saying their goodbyes to you.

“Thanks for letting us hide here,” Yelena says with a polite smile, offering her hand for a handshake as a way to further prove her gratitude. 

“Oh, it’s really nothing. I’m glad I was able to help out,” you reply, accepting her handshake. “And…you know, good luck. You probably don’t need it, obviously, but just in case…”

“You’re adorable,” Ava comments with a smirk, patting your shoulder as her way of saying goodbye.

Alexei doesn’t even say anything. He just straight up walks towards you and wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground as he gives you a tight hug. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you pat his back as a way of returning the hug, hearing how Yelena and Bucky are frantically telling him to put you down immediately.

The three of them are already outside your apartment and it’s time to face Walker. He just says a quick “thank you” before walking towards the others that wait for Bucky in the hallway, knowing you probably don’t even want to address him. For now, you decide not to say anything to him. If you do see each other again, perhaps then you’ll try to figure out if you can look past the awful things he has done.

Now Bucky is the one who stands before you and all you can do is hug him as tight as you possibly can, almost not wanting to let him go. You know he’ll be fine. You know he’ll come back to you. But still, you can’t ignore the knot forming at the pit of your stomach, anxiety and fear consuming you at the thought of something happening to him.

He senses how you feel, hugging you back just as tight. “Please be safe,” he whispers.

You break the hug, looking up at him. “I should be telling you that.”

The comment makes him smile softly because it sounds like you're reprimanding him for what he just said. Immediately after, he's placing a hand at the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, still as anxious as you were before. The fact that you still don’t fully know what they’re up against makes your situation worse. If it’s anything remotely similar to an Avenger-like threat, you have plenty of reasons to be afraid. “Just…just take care, please.”

“I will,” he replies, giving you a kiss so sweet and gentle that it practically takes your breath away. He knows you’re worried like never before and he wants to make sure he’s able to give you as much reassurance as he possibly can.

After a few more seconds of him just looking back at you with a soft smile on his face, he moves back from you, knowing he has to leave already.

“Promise you’ll be back soon,” you blurt out as he’s leaving your apartment, still fighting the urge to just yank him back into the apartment to keep him from going back out there.

“I promise you I’ll be back, darling,” he says without any hesitation, knowing he’ll do anything he possibly can to keep his word.

Finally, he closes the door of your apartment, leaving you all alone in there as you try to calm yourself down until everything is back to normal again and he’s here with you. Until he’s back in the safety of the arms of the person he cares most about in this entire world.

You focus on the four empty glasses, the lingering presence of everyone, the trail of dirt their boots left on the floor, the chair Bucky was sitting on just seconds ago...you can only hope they stay safe. Meanwhile, you decide to clean up the living room as a way of distracting yourself.

On the other side of the door, Bucky is turning to look at the group, rolling his eyes when he sees all of them grinning and nodding their hands in approval after witnessing him being so lovey-dovey with you, discovering a sight of him they probably didn’t even know existed.

“Not a single word,” Bucky warns them, immediately walking in between them to get to the elevator.

“What? We can’t say you two looked disgustingly cute back there?” Yelena jokes as she follows after him.

"Who knew that was hiding beneath all that...grumpiness," Ava comments right after.

“I said not a single word,” he repeats, trying to act like he wasn’t feeling terribly embarrassed right now. Or like he didn't find the teasing slightly entertaining. Just slightly.

“I mean, you did look cute,” Walker agrees.

“So cute!” Yelena emphasizes.

Alexei wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, much to his discomfort. “That was adorable. You, my friend, had the eyes of love looking at your zhenshchina!”

“And you had to make it weird,” Ava mutters after Alexei’s comment, just as the elevator doors are closing.

translations: der'mo (shit), zhenshchina (woman). again, i apologize if the translation is wrong, i don't speak russian