#and it's a shame that absolutely none of my characters have any knowledge of this field so i can't work it into my writing
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Lane's balance is a concept in geomorphology that describes the relationship between the volume of water passing through a stream and the size of the sediment in the stream bed, among other factors. If one of these factors changes, it affects the others. Increasing flow through the stream, for instance, increases the average sediment size in the stream bed as the smaller particles wash away leaving only the larger ones behind, a process call bed armoring. This process can effectively halt scouring and degradation of the stream bed, but the resulting stream is generally less rich, less hospitable to aquatic life than it was before.
Thinking about this in terms of characters who close themselves off after being hurt to avoid future hurts, but this ends up making their lives less rich, less open to good experiences and hurting them more in the long run.
#leaving a lot of nuance out#because bed armoring is more neutral in nature than described here#and this doesn't even take stream evolution models into account#but as a metaphor i like it#and it's a shame that absolutely none of my characters have any knowledge of this field so i can't work it into my writing#geomorphology#your friendly neighborhood geomorphologist
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The Hierarchal Power Structure in Pentagram City + Royal Family Character Analysis (Hellaverse World-Building)
I did some character analysis, lore, and world-building last night for Pentagram City and the hierarchical systems, and @tomboy014, I saw your reply, and I am here to deliver the deets.
First and foremost, disclaimer: this is world-building/character analysis/lore that I came up with. Some of it is based on canon, but a lot of it is built off my personal fanon. None of it can actually be considered canon, but feel free to incorporate anything here into your fanon or fics or whatever you want. And feel free to not take any of it seriously and ignore it if it doesn't work for you.
This post is going to be broken up into separate parts that delve into different subjects, like the city districts, the Overlords and what they give to the city, hierarchal systems, politics, and soul-contracts.
To get things started, I'm diving into the hierarchical systems of power in the Pride Ring and how involved or uninvolved they are in, most of the character analysis is on the Royal Family (Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie) and their relationship to the Pride Ring.
So, we know that the Sinners are contained to the Pride Ring and that however powerful the Overlords are and how much influence they have in the Ring, they are still outranked by the Goetia and the Royal Family.
So, diving into that, let's start with the big boss of Hell himself:
Lucifer
Lucifer is the top dog. He's the most powerful being in Hell. What he says goes.
But he doesn't often involve himself with Pentagram City or the Sinners. He's gone out, made appearances, settled disputes that made their way up to him, and is the one who typically deals with Heaven and their input.
Unlike Sinners, he actually gets along well with the Hellborn. He has powerful Hellborn friends, like the Eldritch family - Charlie previously dated Seviathan Von Eldritch (their son) and we see a picture of Frederick Von Eldritch (the dad) with Lucifer in Lucifer's workshop in "Dad Beat Dad:
So, he has good relationships with other people. He has friends. He gets along well with the other Deadly Sins and the Goetia. He has absolutely no problems with them.
He also doesn't mind dealing with issues that pop up in other Rings, but given that those Rings are managed by the other Sins, it's rare that he has to get involved. Usually, the only times he would, is if the Sins themselves were having a dispute with each other, and it got big enough to warrant it coming to him. He's the big boss of Hell, afterall. He gets the final say.
What he does distance himself from is the Sinners.
When it comes to Heaven, Lucifer has an inferiority complex.
He's been in Heaven, with the seraphims, archangels, and angels for most of his existence. He grew up believing what they believe. He was considered a trouble-maker for his grandiose ideas, but he was still one of them.
But after giving Eve the fruit of knowledge, giving free-will to mankind and breaking the careful order Heaven maintained, the beings that he's been with his entire existence turned on him. Rejected him. Cast him out and punish him for his mistake by seeing nothing but the terrible and wicked caused by his actions.
He feels ashamed and humiliated. Belittled and looked down on. If everyone you've ever known, everyone you've ever been close to, tells you you're done a terrible thing, what other choice do you have then to believe them?
He's still prideful, but that pride is what causes him to have such great shame. He was so certain of his decision. So certain that giving Eve the apple was the right move, only to be torn down so thoroughly and cast out of his home.
But with the Sinners he has a superiority complex.
The Sinners are a constant reminder of his mistake. When he sees them, all he feels is shame, anger, humiliation, and disgust, but he still thinks he's better than them. He thinks all the Hellborn are better than them. He's still got a sliver of that high-and-mighty angel inside him that looks down on the Sinners.
Heaven deemed them bad enough to be sent to Hell, afterall. And even though he'd been cut off from Heaven, even though he was cast out, Heaven's definition of "good" and "bad" is still rooted in his brain. They would know, right? Heaven is pure, and righteous, and good. He was once pure, and righteous, and good. Their logic and reasoning made sense to him, and a part of it still does.
So, he goes out of his way to avoid interacting with the Sinners. Given that he's only ever seen the worst in humanity, he considers them the lowest of the low and doesn't bother trying to learn more about them - he stopped trying to see the good in them after the first few hundred years.
To him, all Sinners are horrible. Heartless. Monstrous. Cruel. They tear things down instead of build things up. They're everything wrong with humanity. He doesn't hold a high opinion of them, nor has he for a very, very, very long time.
Given that he represents "pride," most would assume that he manages the Pride Ring, but it's actually Lilith who runs the Ring and everyone in it. Lucifer is more than happy to let Lilith take the reins when it comes to the Sinners, and almost never takes the opportunity to get more involved when one comes up.
Lilith
Lilith holds a higher opinion of the Sinners than Lucifer does.
She used to be human, afterall. She was the first woman. One of three people that marked the beginning of mankind. Technically, one could argue that she was the first human to commit a sin as she had not only rejected Adam but she was on board with Lucifer sharing the fruit of knowledge with Eve. She was punished for their "reckless act" just the same as Lucifer and cast into Hell.
But where Lucifer feels disgust and shame, Lilith feels a sense of freedom. She's no longer bound to Heaven and their rules. Rules that she struggled with and had to break free of. Rules that also dubbed her a "wicked person" for breaking them.
She feels connected to the Sinners. She feels a kinship with them. She has more empathy for their situations and actions. She understands their misery and anger. She loves learning about them and their stories - some Sinners, of course, are absolutely deplorable human beings. But there are some who lived in difficult situations, made mistakes, developed bad habits, were forced into tight corners, had no other options, or were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She feels righteous anger at Heaven and its strict system that separates the "good" from the "bad."
Lilith has been involved with the growth of Pentagram City since the beginning, and once Overlords became a thing, she worked side-by-side with them to keep the Ring functioning as best as a society can function in Hell.
She was a lot more involved in the beginning of Hell. However, the more the city grew the more it was able to stand on its own two legs. She had more time to step away and be with Lucifer, Charlie later on, and the other Rings. She still often holds her concerts to inspire and uplift demonkind, but she doesn't have to help run the city so much.
Overtime, she became more of an occasional guiding hand or a final vote. The Overlords had a hold of most situations and solved it amongst their own territories or with the other Overlords.
Charlie
While born in Hell, Charlie was actually very sheltered growing up. She was allowed to go to the other Rings, and often went on trips with Lucifer and Lilith to visit the other Sins, but despite living in the Pride Ring, she wasn't allowed to really explore it for a lot of her life growing up.
Lilith wanted to bring young Charlie with her on her trips into the city, to meet the Overlords, see her subjects, and familiarize herself with all the districts, but Lucifer was a little bit more, ehhhh...hesitant, you could say. And protective. Very protective.
He didn't like the idea of his little girl rubbing elbows with the scum of humankind. Of her seeing the violence and cruelty they so often displayed. She became a bright, burning light in his life, giving him new drive, something to love and take care of. It brought him out of his depression for a time, especially when Charlie lived in the palace, but he still had moments when he fell back into it. When he had hard days. When he sunk back into dark thoughts and internalized shame.
During these dark periods of time, Lucifer locked himself in his workroom. He didn't have the energy, the mental capacity, to be there for Charlie, and he didn't want to bring any of the dark and negative thoughts & emotions on to Charlie - the light in his life. His pride and joy.
Distancing himself from her during this spirals is how he "protected" her. He convinced himself that it was for her own good not to see him like this. That he needed to keep this side of him locked away and out of sight for her benefit, not realizing just how much Charlie needed him.
During these spirals, Lucifer turned to creation. He made things. Things for Charlie. Things for Lilith. Random knick-knacks. Whatever object, animal, or concept that crossed his mind. More often than not, though, his creations had holy undertones. Angelic designs. Some piece of Heaven squirreled inside.
Charlie loved watching her dad create things, and eventually, Lucifer started telling her stories about Heaven. What it was like up there. How beautiful it was. The archangels and the seraphims who made galaxies and expanded the universe. Who kept evil at bay.
Charlie soaked in these stories and developed a fascination for Heaven.
Lilith didn't approve. She had complicated feelings about Heaven, but for the most part, she had a negative opinion of it. Of the angels, the seraphims, their order, and rules, and expectations. She doesn't see it with the same rose-tinted glasses that Lucifer does. She doesn't have the millennia of memories and experiences that Lucifer has.
She doesn't like Lucifer filling Charlie's head with these grandiose and beautiful depictions of Heaven. She doesn't like Charlie's growing fascination with Heaven. She doesn't like the look of awe and wonder in Charlie's eyes. She doesn't like Lucifer painting Heaven in this perfect light when they had both been hurt so badly by them. She's been with Lucifer since the beginning, has seen him through every up and down, spiral, and depressive episode, and she doesn't understand how he could still hold such a high opinion of them after everything they did. Everything they've put her through. Everything they put him through.
She's okay with Lucifer spending time with Charlie and creating things with her, but she does interrupt and make an excuse to take Charlie with her when Lucifer starts talking about Heaven, or creating Heavenly things, like the bird-angel-creature from "Dad Beat Dad"
She doesn't want Charlie getting the wrong idea about them.
Lucifer's leniency towards Heaven & contempt for Sinner and Lilith's animosity towards Heaven & compassion for Sinners starts butting heads more and more as Charlie grows up. It leads to arguments, and then fights, and eventually, their divorce.
Charlie grew up torn between her father's dreams and stories, and her mothers compassion for Sinners and desire to help them. Both facets have been instilled in her. They're both driving motivators for her and what she wants to do with her life.
But seeing the separation between her parents was hard and it hurt. No matter what she did, she couldn't help their marriage or their family. So, she turned to helping others. The Sinners, specifically. Of redeeming them so they may see the beautiful, wondrous place her father told her about.
Lucifer still didn't approve, of course, which devastated Charlie. She wanted his support. Needed it. But he couldn't look past his contempt for Sinners, and it became the leading factor that led to their estrangement in the years that followed, with Charlie feeling unsupported and neglected, and Lucifer wanting to reconnect with her so badly but not knowing how to bridge the gap.
Lilith needed distance from Lucifer. She still loved him. She did. But she's also been with him since before Hell was created. They've been at each other's sides since they first met in the Garden of Eden.
And Lucifer's depressive episodes were hard on her too. She did everything she could to support him. To help him. To be there for him. But over time, the mental and emotional load began weighing on her. It started affecting her mentally and emotionally too. It's hard to be the one constantly holding up the other. She felt like she could never break. Never stumble. She had to be steadfast. She had to be strong. A pillar for her family and her kingdom. To raise Charlie, oversee the city, and support Lucifer all at once, and she was exhausted.
And with her and Lucifer butting heads more and more, she couldn't keep doing it. She left the Pride Ring, visited the other Rings, took some time for herself and something something, stuff happens, she ends up in Heaven (my reasoning for this changes based on what fic I'm writing or concept I'm thinking about, so I don't have a concrete answer to give).
She did leave Charlie on her own, too, though.
Charlie had to build her plan for redemption, start her hotel, and deal with demonkind all on her own, without the support of either of her parents, without their help navigating the city and dealing with Sinners, which leaves her fumbling, unsure how to act around them, and a bit naive to their situation. When she met Vaggie, she got the love and support for her dreams, for herself, that she craved. That she needed. That's been missing for so many years.
Charlie still loves both of her parents deeply, but she has complicated feelings about them that she buries deep, deep, deep down inside her. She's got mommy and daddy issues.
Goetia
The Goetia are the third most powerful beings in Hell (after the Sins and the Royal Family). They outrank the Overlords easily.
Goetia families live in every ring. They can move between Rings, go where they want, and have their own sway and political power in Hell. A Goetia that we know, for sure, lives in the Pride Ring is Stolas, as implied by the sky where his house/estate is located:
But, generally, the Goetia don't get that involved in Pentagram City, its politics, or the Overlords, unless it affects them directly. They work with the Overlords, meet with them to discuss matters that involve them both, but over all, they leave Pentagram City, the Overlords, and the Sinners all to their own devices. They don't care enough to get involved, and, technically, the Pride Ring is the Sinner's ring - as they are restricted to it - and they don't want to have to maintain a society or system for them.
The Goetia have an indifferent opinion of the Sinners. Where Imps and Hellhounds are the lower class, and generally looked down on, especially by the Goetia, the Sinners are kind of just...there.
They may look down on them a little, and not take the Overlords too seriously, as they see them as nothing but a handful of Sinners with a smidgeon of power - how cute ^.^ They think they can actually do shit! - that doesn't hold a candle to a Goetia's power.
They do tend to underestimate the Overlord's power and can be condescending towards them, but in the end, if an Overlord were to try and go toe-to-toe with a Goetia, they would get their ass beat.
So, the Goetia's attitude towards Pentagram City, the Overlords, and the Sinners is generally indifferent. They simply don't care enough to get involved. The Sinners are none of their concern and they don't want to make them their concern. They only ever interact/deal with the Overlords, and even then, it's sparingly.
The Goetia keep to themselves. The Overlords and Sinners keep to themselves. Both are fine with this. (The Overlords would not be happy if the Goetia decided they wanted more control of city and inserted themselves into the politics and hierarchy).
Overlords
Like how Lucifer is the top dog in all of Hell, the Overlords are the top dogs in Pentagram City (not including the Goetia, who keep to themselves and don't get involved in Sinner business).
The city is run by the Overlords. They each have their own districts, their own imports and exports, and a trade that benefits the city in some way, shape, or form. A lot of their trades can be dependent, or involved, with other Overlord's and their trades, which is an incentive for them to keep the peace and work together.
They meet up fairly often to discuss the happenings in the cities, situations/events that have an impact on all of them (like the Exterminations), problems that arises that they need to groupthink for solutions, and any matter or subject that an Overlord wants to bring up with the other's.
The relationship between the Overlords can vary. Some can be friends, some can just be allies, some can have friction, and some can be flat out rivals. No matter what the relationship is, it's crucial that the order between them be maintained.
Overlords, generally, try not to attack or openly antagonize each other. They don't typically want to start fights, as that is just as much a risk to them as it is to the one they want to fight. And if a fight does break out, either 1) the Overlord will be defeated with the possibility of losing souls - or killed, depending on if their attacker has an angelic weapon, or 2) the defeated Overlord will be embarrassed and angry, and the friction will only get worse and cause more detriment to the group as a whole.
Nobody wants Overlords fighting, especially the Overlords. They're the most powerful Sinners, but even that power has risks. It takes a while to build up, but it can be snatched away so quickly, and few of them want to take that chance. The best option is to get along as best they can when they're in the same room, and keep to themselves and their districts when they separate.
The Overlords are essentially a counsel. They're all considered equals of each other. There is no head of the Overlords. No one who presides over them, except Lilith. They all stand on equal footing and treat each other as such (at least outwardly). They work together to keep the city running, as their empires, power, and trades are dependent on the city. It's in all their best interests to keep it functioning as much as a society can function in Hell. (It helps that they are the ones controlling the system, and thus, they benefit from having a say in what goes on in the city).
If an Overlord were to be "toppled" or killed, it would actually rock the balance that's been established in the city. Suddenly, there will be thousands of Sinners with broken contracts who now own their souls, entire territories that can be seized, a trade/resource that is either up for grabs or gone entirely, and overall chaos and confusion. Greedy Overlords might make a power grab for more territory and souls, which becomes a threat to the other Overlords and their status. More fights break out. More damage and destruction. More friction.
It's bad for everyone. So they try to keep the peace among each other as much as possible.
Crime-Families
Crime-families fall under the Overlords in this hierarchy of power. These crime-families don't have to be "families," they can be gangs, factions, syndicates, or organizations.
Some of them may be owned by an Overlord, fall into the jurisdiction of an Overlord, or are entirely independent with their souls intact. No matter what the relationship is, crime-families do tend to work directly with Overlords.
They specialize in smuggling, trafficking, and recruiting. Unless owned, they typically don't work with just one Overlord, but do business with all of them. They can be paid under-the-table by a specific Overlord to be notified when they have a “fresh supply," or if they found something/someone that could benefit that Overlord, but generally, they keep the entire pool open and neutral, as there's more money to be made that way and there's safety in being a resource for all Overlords, not just one. That way, if they were threatened, it would come to the attention of all the Overlords, as they are a valuable resource and anyone threatening that makes themselves a target.
Owned Sinners
Owned-Sinners are Sinners who have sold their soul. The system for owning and selling souls is a complex one, with pros and cons. There's a reason so many sinners end up selling their souls, despite how serious and significant it is to do so.
And that's because so often the benefits outweigh the risks.
There are many reasons why a Sinner will sell their soul, like fame, money, opportunity, security, safety, housing, jobs, desires, needs, etc... and whoever owns their soul, that person is now responsible for it and them.
Some Sinners will sell their soul as a way to get a well-paying job from an Overlord, or to fall under their protection so they're safe from outside threats, or to pay off loans they can't pay back, or to wipe clean their slate if they get themselves in too much trouble. When an Overlord owns your soul, you have the opportunity to relocate to that Overlord's district as further means of security and opportunity.
Furthermore, most people who sell their souls just...continue living their own lives. Overlords own thousands upon thousands of souls. There's no way they can keep track of every single one of them, or have hyper-specific deals with each one. Most sinners can sell their soul and continue living their afterlife with whatever benefits they sold it for. Easy peasy.
There are, of course, cons too.
Like, the fact that you are owned by someone. You're bound by the contract you signed. You're bound to the person who now owns your soul. The deal you made may have specific requirements that you have to follow, and not doing so can result in very, very bad consequences.
It opens situations for abuse and being taken-advantage of. Even if you change your mind afterward, you can't break the deal. Unless you convince the owner of your soul to dissolve it, they don't hold up their end of the bargain, or you can't find a loophole/backdoor, you're trapped in the contract and there is nothing you can do about it.
Non-Owned Sinners
Non-Owned Sinners fall under Owned-Sinners in this power-structure because they don't have the opportunities or security that comes with being tied to an Overlord.
Overlords can offer protection, housing, well-paying jobs, opportunities, money, debt-relief, a myriad of things. Whereas Non-Owned Sinners are all on their own. They're "free targets." There won't be any repercussions to killing them, hurting them, taking all their shit, trafficking them, literally doing anything to them.
Non-Owned Sinners have the independence and freedom of owning their souls, but they're essentially fishes in a shark tank. They're vulnerable. They're out in the open. They're more likely to live in squalor. Bad things are more likely to happen to them.
Living in Hell, where death, destruction, misery, and torment are the norm, most Sinners will end up selling their souls. And if they don't at first, they usually do eventually when life gets too hard, they get themselves into too much trouble, they fall for a recruiters trap, or they're desperate.
Imps
Imps are below Non-Owned Sinners. The Pride Ring is the most diverse Ring in all of Hell, so there are a lot of Hellborn who live there. Imps are still one of the lowest classes, but there are actually a lot of opportunities for them there.
Sinners don't see Imps the same way other Hellborn do. They weren't born there and they are restricted to the Pride Ring, so they don't see how other Rings treat Imps.
Imps aren't treated as badly in the Pride Ring, especially in Imp City (which is an entire district in Pentagram City that's in a neutral zone, and thus, under the jurisdiction of no Overlord) and is dominantly populated by other Imps.
Though they still are very much treated as a lower class, it's not as terrible as it can be in other Rings. The diversity of so many sinners and Hellborn make it a little easier. They have job opportunities within the city. They can work for Overlords without having to sell their soul, as Overlords can't own the souls of Hellborn, just other Sinners.
Hellhounds
Hellhounds are at the bottom of the list, as they are canonically the lowest social class in Hell. Most of the jobs they get fall under the category of security, manual labor, sex work, or working with crime-families.
Like Imps, it's a little better in the Pride Ring, given its diversity and the Sinners not having a full scope of just how much lower of a class Imps and Hellhounds are supposed to be. It's not perfect by any means, and the system is still rigged against them, but there's more job opportunities and ways to make a life for themselves.
That's that for the hierarchical system in the Pride Ring, from the highest class to the lowest class. The most powerful to the least powerful.
TLDR: Lucifer is the most powerful but he doesn't want to get involved with Sinners, Lilith helped the city grow until it could stand on its own, Charlie wants to help but struggles due to family issues and being sheltered most of her life, the Goetia don't care enough to get involved with the Sinners, the Overlords are a counsel of equals, Crime families work for the Overlords, Owned-Sinners have more opportunity, Non-Owned Sinners have less opportunity, Imps and Hellhounds have always been considered a lower class, but it's not as bad for them in the Pride Ring.
Up Next: A Deep Dive into the Overlords and their Districts (this is where the real world-building begins)
#well this took a while to write out#DAMN#but who#I was going to do one big long past about ALL my world-building stuff#but I realized very quickly just how long of a post that would be#so Im splitting it into sections#and will go through it subject by subject#here's the power hierarchy in Hell!#i'll be diving deeper into a few of these as we go into other topics#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lilith#hazbin lilith#hazbin hotel lilith#lilith magne#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie#Goetia#Hellborn#Overlords#Imps#Hellhounds#Sinners#world building#Hazbin World Building#Hazbin Hotel World Building
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For the fandom ask game!
Fandom:
Agatha All Along - 12, 17, 19
Ship - Agatha/Rio - 2, 10, 14
Character - Agatha or Rio: 1, 8
for agatha all along:
12. ...what attracted me into checking it out.
agatha harkness, baby! i looooved wandavision - like, got up early every week to watch it while i worked out so i wouldn't get spoiled - and i loved agnes/agatha from the moment she popped into wanda's kitchen and started flirting her face off as a force of chaos. and then they added patti lupone, and then i started hearing rumours they were going to make agatha as canonically queer as we all knew she was? i was ready. (except for how i was not, actually, ready.)
17. ...the world-building aspect of the story I have the greatest admiration for.
hahahaaaaa not to cheap out on this one but it's absolutely the fact that agatha harkness is jolene. can't beat it.
19. ...one behind-the-scenes trivia fact I've learned somewhere and my thoughts on it.
oh my god, so daniel selon, the costume designer, recently posted that the shot of the coven flying in front of the moon was done with puppets and that blew my mind. check it out! they are so cool. i actually got to work a bit with a master puppeteer earlier this year (i realise that sounds like an innuendo but it is not) and so i am in awe of how much effort went into these. practical! magic!
for agatha/rio:
2. ...why I do or don't ship them.
holy fuck i ship them like crazy. they are so fucked up. they have so much history. they are each the only person who could ever match the other's freak. jac schaeffer and the writers' room were like, who could stand up to agatha? oh, i know! death! and they were right. death broke all the rules of nature for agatha. how could i not??? and that's BEFORE getting into the knife thing. come on.
10. ...rate the level of stupid they reach in their pining.
absolutely zero. neither of them ever pine for the other. that would be ridiculous. death does not pine. and agatha simply has better things to do. rio definitely does not spend half her time keeping an ear out in hopes that agatha is going to suck another coven dry so rio can figure out where she is. agatha definitely did not dedicate herself to tracking down the book of the damned specifically so she could piss off rio by disappearing instead of dealing with her feelings. none pining. none. (1000000/10, they are both utter fools)
14. ...which tropes I think describe them the best.
hahaha iiiiiiis lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers a trope? (shhhhh they are going back to lovers shhhhh)
for agatha:
1 ...why I love them, like them or hate them.
where do i even begin. okay okay okay okay. i love her. to start with, i have a real pathological thing for characters who slap on as many masks as possible in order to avoid dealing with feelings, for absolutely no reason, thank you. and agatha is such a master manipulator and troll. i love how smart and calculating and incisive and determined she is. i love how greedy she is - for knowledge, for power. i love that she refuses to feel shame about her desires, or at least refuses to let any shame she feels stop her. i love that she does - grudgingly, unwillingly - make space for love in her life. i love that she's such a dick. i love that she has faced so much horror that she just refuses to take most things seriously because nothing else can be as bad. i love that she looks good in literally anything (except maybe that mobcap from ep 9, but to be fair that is playing on hard mode). i love her.
8. ...a headcanon I have about this character.
hmm, i don't know what i want to share that i either haven't already written about or don't plan to write about. let me think. oh, i know i wrote up a bunch of options, but i do believe she makes billy take señor scratchy home, hahaha.
for rio:
1 ...why I love them, like them or hate them.
do i love rio? i love agatha so much and i had to think about rio. do i just love rio because of how much she loves agatha? hm! i wish we had gotten so much more rio! i love that she cannot say no to agatha, hahahaaaaa. i love that she can't quite maintain her poker face when she's feeling strong emotions - the times she lets it slip are devastating. (i have to say, i have never much cared for aubrey plaza, but she has some great moments in this show.) i love her anger. i love that she is fair. i love that she's so petulant ('why don't you want me'). i talked about the scene with alice in another ask, but i love that rio takes a moment there to have a conversation with alice and to be like, actually, you fulfilled your life's meaning here. what more do you want. death isn't kind, but she is truthful, and i love that.
8. ...a headcanon I have about this character.
i absolutely believe that every time agatha kills someone, rio knows immediately.
thank you! ask me more things!
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ABOUT AUTHOR & DISCLAIMER
About Mun/Author:
♥ 35 years old
♥ English isn’t my native language, consider all typos and mistakes canon and intentional.
♥ I absolutely CAN disagree with a character’s actions and still like them.
♥ Trans-masc enby
♥ Artist, writer
♥ Love reading, history, analysis of media, weird rabbit holes, music
♥ I don’t sleep
♥ Anarchist, I’m the scary woke leftist your mamma warned you about
♥♥♥DISCLAIMER♥♥♥
♥ This blog is 100% NSFW as far as Tumblr’s ToS allow
♥ I don’t want any minors here. None. Ever. I will ban you.
♥ I also don’t want any TERFs, J.K. Rowling-lovers, and ANTIs here. You will also be banned.
♥ In short, I have a pretty quick hand on the ban button and won’t engage with you before adding you to the blocklist so don’t waste your time.
♥ Fiction ≠ Real life. Imagine that! Mind absolutely blown, like WHOOSH!
♥ This is a combined personal and RP blog. Feel free to consider it fully in-character.
♥ On this blog, I RP Valentino, the Overlord of Lust and Depravity. I won’t censor the character and I won’t censor myself, you get an in-character version as much as I’m capable of giving. But also, and this is important, we don’t really get that much information about Valentino so I WILL be including my own headcanons. I’ll mark posts that contain non-canon headcanons or fancanons as such so there’s no confusion. We can say that this is MY version of the character but I won’t sugarcoat him.
♥ With that comes a big list of trigger warnings for this blog. Here are some of them: * Heavy sexual content in a written text * Graphic language * Spurs of Spanish from Google Translate plus minor personal knowledge * Unhinged behavior * He will call you out, he will sexualize you, he will be an asshole about it
♥ Lines I won’t cross and things that won’t be tolerated: * Expressing any gender identity intolerance * Racial comments or slurs * Ableism * Body shaming/fat shaming * Kink shaming * Sexuality shaming * There will be NO minor sexualization, if I find out you’re a minor you get blocked.
RULES OF ROLEPLAY AND INTERACTION
CHARACTER INFORMATION
#hazbin hotel roleplay#hazbin hotel#hazbin valentino#valentino#rp blog#hazbin rp#hazbin hotel rp#rp#mun post#out of character.
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Silver Linings
I just realized something. I learned about the existence of Trans people when I was 12 or 13 I think. I learned about us in a medical encyclopedia. It wasn't a lot to go on, but it definitely was enough. Two things happened when I saw that entry. First I wasn't alone, second I could do something about this.
I absolutely wasn't alone or the only one AMAB who was a girl. That lifted a huge weight off of me, I wasn't alone. People who've never experienced the feeling that you're the only one in the world that seems to not be the way everyone around you is, have no idea how hard that is, I sooo identified with the Last Unicorn as a child. Growing up, I had no positive examples of queer people. None. I can't recall a negative example either that was explicitly queer. There was nothing for me to reference what I was going through. I was taught like all young girls in our society that being a girl is inferior to being a boy (why? Why does our society do this? Even today? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! We're not inferior to men, we never were, but for some reason some narcissistic AH somewhere decided this and then a bunch of other narcissistic idiots with power liked it and here we are living in a patriarchal misogynistic society, which is absolute BS). But I was also taught that being a boy who "wanted" to be a girl (yes I'm aware I was girl all along, though it took me a long time to understand that, because... society) was doubly bad and horrible.
So I was completely ashamed and terrified of anyone learning my secret because I was the only one and I knew it was a bad secret. I'm sure there are other things that happened that taught me this, experiences with my parents, peers, teachers. But I don't remember most of them, and I don't really need to go into it here, as the sadly important point is that I learned very young to be ashamed of myself.
No one ever talked about people like us. Ever. There were the occasional movies involving cross dressing and drag, usually men pretending to be women (notice that key word that differentiates trans people from cis people. Cis people when they cross dress in performative ways are pretending to be the opposite sex or a gender outside the binary. Trans people aren't pretending, we are the gender we identify with.) like Tootsie. I liked the movie, it was nice to see a man who could pretend to be a woman and enjoy some of it. But I never identified with that character, not in any significant life changing way. Because he was a man, he identified as a man throughout the movie and I was a girl forced to be a boy. And most other instances of crossdressing in media were treated as a joke, including Tootsie. "Hello [shame] my old friend, I've come to talk with you again." (1)
So learning I wasn't the only person in the world that felt this way was life changing. It gave me comfort, which I sorely needed. But the second part was just as important. I could actually do something about my body and I could be me. And that gave me hope. Which was sorely needed as I was spiraling downward rapidly at the time. Months later as the horrors of my body changing became more apparent I came out to my parents in desperation, which instead of recognizing me and loving and supporting me, was met w/ dismissal, and attempts to erase me and increased the shaming tenfold. But the one thing that kept me going. The one bright star in that horrible darkness was the knowledge that I could transition someday, not as soon as I'd hoped, not as soon as I needed, but someday. It felt like an eternity away, but it was there, telling me to keep surviving to keep going because I could be me when I got there.
Had I not learned of trans people, I honestly don't think I would have survived my first adolescence. I would just be another dead kid with everyone wondering why I was so depressed and weren't there any signs? (I often wonder how many of the children that manage to kill themselves are queer. Based on proportions of homeless youth, I imagine queer kids are a very large chunk of that statistic.) Just learning about the existence of trans people kept me alive. Knowing I wasn't alone and there was something I could do about it. It was horrifyingly frustrating that I couldn't do anything until I turned 18, but I would be able to do something about it. So learning about trans people saved my life.
Just that one concept, that trans people living their authentic lives existed, was enough to keep me alive. And here is the silver lining that occured to me. Despite all the negative, bigoted, horrible publicity, laws, and hate. Our existence is being talked about a lot. Which means, kids who need to know they aren't alone, that they are not the only one's that feel this way. Are finding out that we exist. Yes they'll need to do research and understand that we and in turn them are not evil, not monsters, not perverts, But beautiful amazing wonderful and caring people. And because of that, maybe. Just maybe, a few more trans kids will survive and maybe even thrive one day, because they learn they aren't alone and there is something they can do about it.
I hope so. I really hope that is the case. I also wish we didn't suffer so much that way, too many of us die. Maybe someday, that will change for the better. (1) Simon and Garfunkel, "The Sound of Silence."
#trans#lgbt+#transgender#lgbtqia#LGBTQI+#lgbt#trans kids#trauma#childhood trauma#family#Silver Linings#silver linings i guess#silver linings maybe
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Hey guess which anon is back with more angst for you. This one is semi short and not very sweet. Parts of this might be out of character, but I'm not quite sure if there is a villian who would fit this role better.
Black Adam smiles as his plan comes to fruition. He stands over the unconscious body of the tiny Billy Batson, empty syring dropping from his hand as he starts to laugh. A simple sleeping drug he got from Dr Silvanas, injected when Billy was already asleep. It will keep him unconscious for 12 hours. 12 hours Black Adam has complete and total freedom to do whatever he wishes.
Black Adam very much wants to kill Billy but where would the fun be in that? Besides, keeping him alive does have many benefits. For now though? It's time for Black Adam is take over the world. Once he locks Billy away somewhere that is. He scruffs Billy by the shirt and when something buzzing falls out of his pocket, without a care Black Adam steps on the Leauge Communicator, destroying it.
Once Black Adam has hidden away the mortal form of the champion of magic he goes out and starts trying to take over the world. Obviously the other heroes start trying to stop him but no one really has a power set that can match Black Adam but Billy. His magic tosses Superman around like a rag doll and his physical strength can shatter through any barrier the magic users put up. At one point during the fight, Black Adam looks up at the sun and says, "oh my, that time already? I'll be back to finish you all off in just a bit. After all it would be a really shame-" He pills a needle out if no where with an evil smile, "if that baffon were to wake up. To bad I can't kill him it would make this so much easier. But, I can't take over the world if the balance gets disrupted that badly~" and he simply leaves the fight. What he said about Balance being thrown out of wack if Billy dies is absolutely untrue. However he does get great joy from watching these silly little mortals who are trying to fight him panic.
After they process Adam's words everyone is thrown into a panic. He has Captain Marvel hostage and neutralized. That's why he isn't answering his communicator.
In their frenzy of trying to come up with a plan with the loose knowledge they have while trying to patch up their wounds, they make their way back to base at the Watchtower.
It's safe to say that Marvel has broken a few communicators in his day, a few may be too generous. So instead of waiting each time for Marvel to fess up that he broke it, Batman modified them to give off a signal beacon to the watchtower once broken. He really wanted to put a tracker on it to find out more about Marvel but he knew that would be a bad idea.
After getting to the location of the broken device they investigate the area for clues. Maybe where Adam took him or how he had done it. Nothing. No clues could be found, there were obvious signs of struggle by what looked to be a small figure but that couldn't be related to this, they were both walls of muscle adding a small child into this didn't make sense.
Regardless the struggle of the child was something to look into as it is their job. It seems that at one point the body fell slack like they passed out. Maybe from exhaustion or injury, though there are no signs of blood so not the latter. There was also the possibility of a drug in the mix. It would make sense why Adam had a needle but why would he use it on a child?
Even if none of the facts lined up, these things happening here didn't feel like a coincidence to anyone.
-----
They were finally here, they finally tracked down Adam and where he's holding Billy and now they have to face the truth. The truth that Captain Marvel is a small child who can barely defend himself against the greater forces of evil. They figured it out on the way here and while tracking him down but nobody had really processed it. The proof was right in front of them, there was no room to deny it further.
The scene they investigated was no coincidence. The struggling child who was drugged was Captain Marvel.
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I woke up to check my phone and you greet me anon, absolutely love it. Kinda got lost in my mind there with the writing. Anon your brain is so big for this, imagine all the raw emotion put into the angst to make the reader cry when the end comfort comes, or not, make them cry because of character death instead. Whichever floats your boat.
I wanted to write more about Adam holding Billy hostage and more about them searching for clues but I didn't really know how I wanted to put it. Man this idea has so much opportunity. Maybe I should start writing instead of jotting this down in a Tumblr post.
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You know how sometimes I send questions I could easily Google to your inbox because it’s more fun to hear a friend talk about their interests than see what the internet says?
Well anyway today it occurred to me that despite having absorbed a lot of spn knowledge through tumblr osmosis, I know basically nothing about Sam Winchester, one of the main characters of the show. Like I feel like I’ve got a at least a vibe of what Dean is like just from like … seeing memes and Destiel posts and stuff, but I could not describe Sam to you. Which feels like a shame.
So what’s his deal? What’s his personality like? What kind of character arc does he go through? Any Sam Winchester hot takes?
HII yes I would absolutely love to talk about him. so basically to explain his Thing, I need to give a little lore drop (bear with me).
Before he was born, his mother made a deal with a demon to let him in her house in 10 yrs. So when Sam was 6 months old, Azazel came into the Winchesters' home, fed baby Sam his own blood (and then killed Mary). Now, this ritual basically gave Sam psychic powers that he discovers in his early 20s, which is where the show begins.
Now time for an essay. Im sorry you ask me about Sam Winchester and I cannot shut up.
Anyway his whole thing is that he is The Freak and that he feels Unclean. And even before he knew it was the demon blood, he was like there is something inherently wrong and dirty about me and stuff. Theres a quote that kind of puts together all the scenes of him talking about that
"I remember looking at this picture of Sir Galahad [as a little kid] , and, and, and he was kneeling, and— and light streaming over his face, and— I remember… thinking, uh, I could never go on a quest like that. Because I'm not clean. I mean, I w— I was just a little kid. You think… maybe I knew? I mean, deep down, that— I had… demon blood in me, and about the evil of it, and that I'm— wasn't pure?" And then he talked about how something that was slowly killing him was "purifying him".
And no matter what he did or where he went, he didnt fit in. Not in his family, not in any of his schools, and not even when he ran away from home to go to college to live out his "normal life".
Personality wise, he's the kind of guy who always can make other people talk about their own feelings, and he acts all sensitive and kind, but also he's a fucking hypocrite because he never tells anyone how he feels. It's very fun comparing Dean and Sam because Dean is like No i Cannot tell anyone how I feel and then spills his guts and then Sam is like Sharing feelings is healthy :) and then takes every genuine emotion to his grave.
More on his personality: Overall he's pretty like sarcastic and bitchy but in a younger brother kind of way. In the beginning he started off very angry and explosive and always jumped headfirst into problems. As the show went on, though, he just got visibly exhausted and tired of being angry and became the full opposite, where he's the one who never got angry while Dean became the angry one.
Also, veryyy important, he is the Nerd One. Like his catch phrases are "according to the lore" and "so get this", both said while looking at his laptop screen, reading through a bunch of stuff. He's the one who does the research and shit.
Actually wait. youre a tma fan. I can explain him very easily by telling you that he's like if Jon was a SPN character. Yk how Jon starts getting powers and it's a horror thing and he has crises about how much he's human and how much he's a monster. Exactly that. And also yk Jon's guilt thing? Sam has that too. Ofc with the human/monster element, but also you know how Jon blames himself for starting the apocalypse but in reality he was just a pawn who actually set off the last trigger? Sam did that EXACTLY and blames himself too. Also the nerd thing lol.
Sam Winchester hot takes? I have literally so many but none of them will seem hot with my curated tumblr. Like saying that Sam's thing about being impure is literally just a metaphor for being queer. Not intentionally queercoded but wow is it fucking queercoded. Oh actually a hot take is that I love late-seasons Sam as well and will defend him to my GRAVEEE.
I have so much to say but no way can I fit it all on this post soooooo... hope that gave you a basic understanding of him !!!!
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it’s a real shame the real smith malius isn’t a major named character because – tldr; these tags are spot-on. of our major named cast members in card kingdom – spades king, lancer, rouxls kaard, jevil and seam – none of them seem like they’d have been important to a particular lightner pre-abandonment the way neo was to mettaton aside from seam. and although i could see one drawing a potential connection from neo being a lightner’s drawing to alvin’s drawing of his father, there’s no real dark-world equivalent nor any secret place i can think of off the top of my head where it could be presumed jevil found it. as well, the dialogue both swatch and seam have seems to indicate that we the audience should focus on the part of neo’s power that came from mettaton’s emotional connection to it rather than the mere act of creation (as being created by a lightner is something that seam mentions is true of all darkners. they’re all objects after all.) the drawing seems more to be a piece of environmental storytelling – these were likely alvin’s toys before they were abandoned. and therein, of course, lies the likely strong emotional connection to one of them.
this leads to a number of reads, some different than my own and some that align with it. one read is that seam simply did not know they possessed the shadow crystal until they’d learned jevil had it from the party – mirroring how we have no indication swatch knew of the ch2 crystal despite having a hand in what brought it about. in this reading, seam likely would have obtained their knowledge of the shadow crystals by way of their interest in jevil’s strange words, and may have intuited that jevil had one as a result (“didn’t you defeat him? didn’t you defeat jevil?” ect.) rather than knowing he did for certain. i like this read because it makes seam something of a gaster- follower-esque character. they know of a strange someone somewhere out there and of the knowledge they bestow upon those they contact, but they were never contacted by them directly. they’re operating purely off curiosity.
this is also the reading closest to my own because – as aforementioned – i’m tentative on whether or not the ch1 crystal’s origin will even be relevant to the game itself. the read works perfectly well without the semantic detail of just where jevil found the crystal or how seam is so powerful as to be only matched by him, and i think not every little detail needs to be revealed for the emotional and characterful aspects of seam’s story to be compelling. i’m just prone to ramble about all the little details because i am a big nerd who spends an inordinate amount of time thinking about deltarune. these worlds are very compelling and if no one else is going to go all worldbuilding on ‘em, i sure will.
another reading is that seam is – to put it bluntly – just straightup lying. i’m less partial to this reading but i absolutely think it’s in-character for them – they’re already prone to playing up the harmless old fluff act to a downright suspicious degree. it fits them to similarly play up not knowing that jevil had a crystal despite knowing full well he did for some reason or other. i do think there are parts of this that you’d have to get creative to make more interesting than seam descending into madness due to being drawn in by their companion’s words, but i wouldn’t be opposed to seeing them in a different light if it made for a good story. i’d love to see them presented as a more outwardly malicious character if it were written well. (this is also why i delight in the implication of final-boss seam in the theory that the crystals are key to the true end of the game – i don’t think it’s true given i'm a secret-boss seam proponent myself but it’s a real good premise for a story. i’d read a fanfic or play a fangame of that. i’d write that for your fangame. i’d write that for myself.)
(there’s also the bonus option of both of them having their own separate crystals but that does not answer the question posed by the original post so. shrug emoji?)
i'm deeply curious about the supposed link between shadow crystals and dark-world things with importance to a certain lightner, specifically in regard to jevil and seam. i have no reason to suspect seam's information there is inaccurate, given neo's role and immense importance, and provided it remains not inaccurate i can only imagine it'll continue to be demonstrated in the chapters going forward. so what was the source of ch1's crystal in that sense? what or who in card kingdom was important enough to a lightner to bring a crystal about — and what kind of power does said what or who have?
#ooc#seam#swatch#deltarune#LONG and PENDANTIC paragraphs under the cut#the alvin-seam connection is actually the basis for one of my old fan ch4s where both of them went to the church dark world with the party
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telling the brothers they would look pretty with a ring I Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus
Request: Hi, may i ask for a request where mc tells the demon brothers that they would look pretty with a ring?
AN: HELLO!! Here's the second part of the request!! I'm so sorry for the late update <33 I'll try to manage my schedule better I swear!! Anyways HERE YA GO
NOTE: NONE OF THESE IMAGES ARE MINE, NOR AM I TRYING TO SELL THEM.
📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜
Lucifer & Mammon
Beelzebub & Belphegor
Leviathan
You weren’t surprised when Levi burst through your door, holding a limited edition Ruri-chan: Invasion of the Gnomes in one hand and a controller in the other. He hadn’t slept a wink for 3 nights and had stayed up to pre-order the game before it sold out. So, of course, he was excited to play it.
It’s been around half an hour since you entered his aquatic room, and his finger had yet to leave his controller. You admired how skilled his reaction time was, pressing the buttons as if he’d been doing it from day one. You wondered what his finger would look like with a ring wrapped around it…
“You wanna play? There’s a couch co-op and I can get another controller if you want me to”
“Yeah sure! Get ready to get your ass kicked, Lord of Shadows”
The image had yet left your mind and continued to fester for the rest of the rounds. The distraction definitely did not help, finding yourself losing round after round.
"Come on, Normie! Why you trash all of a sudden? Git gud LMAO"
"Of course not! You can't exactly blame me for thinking how cute you'd look with a lil ring on your finger…"
That seemed to shut him up, so you looked back at the screen. In the next round you played, your character absolutely beat the living crap out of him. You pump your hands up in victory, turning to your boyfriend with a smile on your face.
There before you was Levi, eyes blinking and face flushed red, the hue a match with the blood dripping down his nose. He reminded you of those anime characters who'd gush fountains from a nosebleed. You ended up having to put the game on hold to grab a tissue for the demon.
A few days later you find your boyfriend a stuttering mess, his arms extending a box onto the palm of your hand. You gave him a look of confusion before opening it up. There tucked inside were two snake shaped rings, that when interlocked, wrapped around each other. You laughed to yourself, finding the situation similar to a choose-your-own-adventure game, and took one for yourself. He took the other and slipped it on with you doing the same.
He’d play around with it when he’s in the lobby of a game. He gets super flustered when someone asks about it, giving excuses about how it was a collectible from his favorite series. Sometimes you’d tease him about it, but he secretly likes that there's something that connects him with you.
Source: https://images.app.goo.gl/2rFPFaW8v2kYxPdEA
Satan
It was another day in Devildom and you and Satan decided to go to the Library to return the books he borrowed. On your way back, you stumbled upon a stray Persian kitten. Of course the blonde pleaded with you to let him bring it home, and you couldn't exactly say no to that face. So without Lucifer’s knowledge, you took it and hid it in his room. You gave it a bath and played with the feline all day long–soon being named Sir Cat II.
Satan was in the middle of petting Sir Cat’s furry head, you notice how his fingers delicately brushed the kitty. The cat purred in satisfaction, leaning closer to the demon’s touch.
“Hey Satan?” you called. His attention left the cat on his lap and was brought to you. You asked if he had any rings lying around, and he shook his head to your inquiry. “Oh that’s a shame, your finger would look great with one”. You took the cat out of his arms while he was caught off-guard.
A few seconds of silence passed and he abruptly stood up. He went to a shelf and easily located the book he was looking for, as if he knew the shelf like the back of his hand. There he was, holding a copy of one of his favorite books in front of you. In a split second, Satan opens it and rips a page off. He starts to fold the paper on itself, eventually making a ring shaped origami with a heart in the middle. He rips another and once again folds it. He takes your hand and slips one of them on.
"There you go, Kitten~~ Now both our hands look great, don't they? These are made from my favorite chapters of the book. Where the lovers meet and their happily ever after. I shan't spoil though, that would ruin our story, will it not? "
You’re in utter disbelief at the scene. It felt sacrilegious to watch a bookworm tear a book, let alone rip two pages clean off. Despite that, you ended up with matching rings—enchanted with a spell that makes it unbreakable—and a cat that sadly lasted for a day since Lucifer found out.
He'd fondle with it while reading, sometimes staring at it longing when it catches the ring from the corner of his eye. It reminds him of his future happily ever after with you and how there's still plenty of time to spare, you're not even half way through your love story.
Source: https://pin.it/1Ody1B9
Asmodeus
It’s been a hectic week and you both decided to spend some time together painting each other's nails. So here you were, coating Asmo’s perfectly shaped nails in pink and cyan varnish. He was in the middle of telling you another gossip he heard around school when he noticed you spacing out. We obviously can't have that.
"…and apparently Lucifer and Diavolo are going to implement a ban on D.D.D's during classes. I mean can you believe it? How am I gunna- Hello? Helloooo? Ugh! Are you even listening? This is a matter of life and death here and you're spacing out! What's so important that you can't even give me ALL your attention, Darlinnnn >:("
"Shit sorry! It's just that your hand would be absolutely perfect with a ring on it"
He thinks you're absolutely right. He starts going on a tangent, talking about what gems look radiant on him and how he can smell a fake one from a mile away. Through the middle of his TedTalk, his eyes brightened and a gasp left his mouth. You thought something went wrong, but he waved it off—saying he just remembered something unimportant.
It was obviously not unimportant when you're greeted by a rock-like object the next day. You picked it up and to your surprise, it opened. To be fair, you live with the 7 embodiments of sins and are currently in a place called "Devildom" so rocks opening up is pretty normal. Surrounded by what looks like amethyst was a beautiful rose gold ring with a ruby in the middle. After the lesson about Rings for Asmo 101, you immediately knew who it was from.
On the first day of getting the ring, Asmo went around the House of Lamentation to show all the brothers the little matching jewelry. After that, he always makes sure to wear it and find an outfit that compliments it.
Sources: https://pin.it/7OUqL1M
https://www.etsy.com/listing/1267937483/lab-created-ruby-engagement-ring-white?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=red+rose+ring&ref=sc_gallery-22-10&pro=1&frs=1&col=1&plkey=6b56868d9bcc21083487e78ae10ba9c5dbef7462%3A1267937483
#obey me x reader#obey me angst#obey me fluff#obey me imagines#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me hc#obey me x mc#levi x reader#satan x reader#asmo x reader#levi x mc#satan x mc#asmo x mc#levi obey me#satan obey me#asmo obey me#leviathan obey me#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#shall we date satan#shall we date leviathan#shall we date asmodeus
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Hey hey! Idk if you’re up for headcanon requests or if you have a limit but if you’re vibing with this, I’d like to humbly request a headcanon about your 6 JJK characters realizing they’ve caught the feelz for someone! Please and thanks!
Requests are always welcome, I'll get to them all as soon as I can, always!
Thank you for requesting, I had a very traumatic day today so this gives me something to focus one :) I did my best, sorry if they're awful.
As requested, headcannons for Nobara, Yuuji, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami and Sukuna catching the feelz:
Kugisaki Nobara
She hadn't thought much of (Y/N) to begin with; She's not at Jujutsu tech to make friends, but it happens anyway in the most unexpected of places.
(Y/N) is someone who gives gloriously few fucks about what people think, they live by their own rules and they do not apologise for it. It's usually something Nobara would find infuriating in someone, but the way (Y/N) carries themselves with poise and dignity just isn't something she can hate.
It doesn't take long for her to pick up on her feelings, she wants to be close to (Y/N), hopes to be paired with them on missions even though (Y/N) always seems to end up dealing with the worst curses.
Seeing as she's not exactly one to be silent, Kugisaki outright comes out to say it.
'Hey, you're pretty cool.' Her tone was an attempt at casual, but (Y/N) knows that blush on her cheeks isn't from the makeup. 'We should, hang out, outside of class.'
(Y/N) can't help but giggle, Kugisaki isn't as subtle as she thinks she is, the older sorcerer has noticed that crush, mostly because they return it. 'Sure, Saturday, there's a restaurant I want to take you too. Six?'
'Seven.'
'It's a date.'
Fushiguro Megumi
What the fuck does he do with this? Feelings he can't control? This is not what he calls fun.
He's known (Y/N) for years, ever since Gojo rolled into his life, (Y/N) had been around. His age, the unwanted child of a powerful family, they couldn't be any more like him, and yet, they were night and day.
He's quiet, (Y/N) makes their presence known without fear, a beacon of light in his world of shadow.
It's only now that his feelings crept up on him, but in truth...he's loved them for years.
Does he know what to do with those feelings? Absolutely not!
It's up to (Y/N) to pick up on the lingering stares, the warmed cheeks, that smouldering look in his eyes. Suddenly, he's concerned about what missions they take on, suddenly he cares about how many hours they spend training, how well they sleep... it's obvious what's going on, but it takes them time to decide what to do.
With (Y/N)'s mind made up, they knock on Megumi's door after curfew, and the moment he opens the door, they pulled them in, and kissed him.
'You could have just told me, you ass!'
'Would you have kissed me like that if I had?'
Itadori Yuuji
Sunshine ball has no shame, none. When his feelings started, you'd have no idea, because he's always so damn kind.
He knows (Y/N)'s favourite foods at every restaurant they've ever gone too. Café order? Knows that one too.
He knows that their right knee hitches when the weather changes suddenly and he knows that extra training makes them crave savoury things, and yet, he can't remember what the hell he had for breakfast that morning.
He's at their side every chance he gets, lavishing them in attention or just being with them in silence. He's learned which is needed and when.
It's (Y/N) who's convinced they fell in love first, not with what he does, but the way he does it all with a smile, determination. He's hosting the King of curses in his head and yet he doesn't let that horrendous curse drag him down.
Itadori confesses shamelessly after a mission, declaring his crush after a mission like it was common knowledge, even though he's already wincing for a rejection.
The blush on his face when (Y/N) kissed him was pinker than his hair.
'D'aw, you're so cute!'
'Nah, you're cuter!'
Gojo Satoru
Him? Feelings? Like...real ones?
He hates it. Borderline bullies (Y/N) over it. Or he would, if (Y/N) didn't nip it in the bud. If he even thought about having an attitude they'd kick his ass, verbally at least.
Feelings break sorcerers, feelings are the reason curses exist at all. Make no mistake, it takes months, months for him to come to terms with himself.
Loving (Y/N) means someone he can't lose, someone who could stand to be yet another failure if he did lose them. Loving (Y/N) means putting a chink in his armour in a world where special grades aren't so special.
Most of that time, he spends trying to talk his stubborn heart out of love. He can't care again, he already cares too much, but (Y/N), gorgeous, stubborn creature, kicks his ass at that too.
For a straight week, they have the worst luck known to man, meeting special grade after special grade, and every single time he was called in to back them up, they'd exorcised it by the time he got there.
There is an infinity between them...hell of a slim infinity.
'Hey, are you flirting with me, seriously?' (Y/N) drawls playfully over breakfast. Was that hope in their eyes?
'Sure am, what do you say, are you madly in love with me yet?'
'Wouldn't tell you if I was, Mr Ego.'
'Well, I am the strongest. I'll just try a little harder next time.'
Nanami Kento
He is a grown adult, a grown man, he does not have a crush... but if they bite their lip like that one more time he will have no choice but to smile.
(Y/N) is nothing short of adorable, every little mannerism and quirk, he knows them all and spends copious amounts of time wondering what causes them.
They roll their eyes whenever an assignment comes in at an inconvenient hour (or when Gojo talks). They wrinkle their nose at the sight of literally any raw meat or bad coffee. Honestly, their face is a catalogue of their day written in a code Nanami is eager to decipher, bit by bit.
Small tokens of his affection pop up in (Y/N)'s life at random. Late night? Coffee's on your desk.
Skipped lunch? There's a sandwich waiting for you.
He never asks for thanks, never admits to doing it, but (Y/N) knows precisely who it was, and the moment he knows his feelings are reciprocated, he's made a reservation at a restaurant he knows they'll love and has a rose in hand for the invitation.
'Would you like to join me for-?'
'YES!'
Ryomen Sukuna
God, help, you.
Sukuna does not have feelings, he has wants, and he wants (Y/N). Broken, obedient, quiet. He's done it before, he's done it a thousand times. Hunting from a body not his own is a mild inconvenience at best.
The only thing that gives him pause is (Y/N) being more powerful than he gave them credit for.
They lash out without fear, they fight with their brain, not in blind panic.
All it is, is a chase. The longer they make him wait, the more he will enjoy breaking them apart, piece by piece.
'Keep running, little rabbit, look forward to the day I catch you.'
'Dude, you are creepy!'
#jjk hcs#requested#annonymous#jjk fanfic#fluff#jujutsu kaisen kugisaki#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#gojo satoru x reader#nanami kento x reader#sukuna x reader
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viki & hickeys
the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)
SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG
NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks
Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.
There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.
Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.
“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”
The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?
You’re not so sure.
It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.
Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.
“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”
You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”
She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”
At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.
You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”
Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.
Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.
Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.
So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.
And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”
You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.
Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.
To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.
Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.
On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.
(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)
“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.
Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.
“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”
You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.
There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.
Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.
“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.
He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.
But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”
You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”
His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.
“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”
Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.
Oh, you loved this man.
Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.
He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.
It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.
But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?
One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.
It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”
“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.
As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.
It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.
“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.
The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.
Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.
As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.
A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.
Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.
Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”
You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.
“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.
That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.
Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.
You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.
If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.
“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”
He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”
You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”
Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.
“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”
He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”
“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.
He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.
Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.
“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.
It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.
“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“
“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.
“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”
Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”
You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”
Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?
He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?
Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.
You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!
Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.
“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”
A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.
You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”
Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”
Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”
It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.
He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.
The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.
“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.
But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”
A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”
It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“
He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”
You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”
Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”
You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.
You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.
Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“
He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”
Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”
Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.
“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”
The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.
There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.
You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”
Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”
You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”
“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”
The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”
Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.
On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.
Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”
You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.
Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.
“I thought he was cool before.”
He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.
In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.
You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.
Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”
You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”
He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”
“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.
Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”
You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“
“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”
His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.
It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.
Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.
He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.
Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.
(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)
Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.
(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.
You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”
The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.
But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.
“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”
“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)
Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.
The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”
He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.
“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”
He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”
Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.
It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.
Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.
He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.
Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“
“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”
He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.
“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”
Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”
You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.
Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.
“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”
Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.
“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.
Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”
“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”
At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”
You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.
Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.
Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.
He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”
Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—
Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.
You whimper. “That hurt.”
“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”
Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.
Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.
Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.
Of course.
You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.
It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.
And you’re all too ready to act on it.
Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.
But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.
“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.
Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.
The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.
As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.
Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.
With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.
Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.
“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.
He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.
“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.
“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.
He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.
It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.
“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.
Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.
His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.
Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.
He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.
Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.
He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.
The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.
Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.
Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.
He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”
The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.
Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.
For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.
He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”
You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.
“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”
A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”
The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—
Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.
He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.
Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”
You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”
It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.
His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.
Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”
And it’s true.
You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.
You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.
Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”
Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.
Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“
Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.
You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.
He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.
“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.
It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.
Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.
“I kinda do—“
“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.
His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.
“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”
You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.
“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.
“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.
Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.
“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.
You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.
Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.
You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.
It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.
Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.
You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.
Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.
“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.
“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.
And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”
Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.
What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.
“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.
(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)
Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.
With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.
“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.
“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”
Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.
Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.
“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.
“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.
You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.
“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”
The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.
Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.
“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”
Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.
“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.
The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”
You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.
“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”
He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.
“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”
You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.
That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.
epilogue
Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.
He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.
Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.
“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.
“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“
“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”
“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”
The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”
There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.
All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”
epi-epilogue
The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.
You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.
“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.
“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”
And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.
“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jjk smut#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader smut#bts jungkook#bts fic#bts smut#mine
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Medieval History and Made Marion
This is just a little devlog about Medieval history and how I've incorporated it into Made Marion. I'm a big fan of Medieval history, especially studies that look beyond the wars and at the ordinary lives of Medieval people.
As most of you know, Made Marion is inspired by the Robin Hood legends from Medieval England but is set in an entirely fantastical world with three very different civilizations (Sunjata is associated with day, Nibiru with night, and Avalon is the Middle Kingdom that is a balance between light and shadow).
Can there be anachronisms in a fantasy world? I guess if you want it to strictly adhere to our world's history, but my world purposefully does not. Magic has led to many technological differences and the world's unique religions and philosophies have led to cultural differences.
In general, if I'm looking at a piece of culture, I ask if it's an interesting detail that serves my narrative well or if it's something I should change in the name of fun and romance. Let's look at some examples!
Inspired by History
One thing I definitely wanted to do was show a world inspired by the actual, global Middle Ages. Avalon, our European-inspired civilization, isn't particularly the center of the world. The other civs think it a bit of a scientific, technological, and cultural backwater, actually. Sunjata has more advanced technology and Nibiru more advanced scientific knowledge.
And although they're somewhat separated by political and geographic challenges, our cast demonstrates that ancient peoples got around far more than we often imagine they did. There were absolutely people with a wide variety of melanin levels in Medieval Europe. In my world, not a ton of people have chosen to settle permanently in a foreign land at this juncture (their religions are deeply tied to their geography), but there are definitely exceptions, and Avalon sees a ton of Sunjati mercenaries and traders looking to make their name and fortune in Avalon before returning home to seek citizenship in a Sunjati city-state.
The ancient Malian Empire, a prosperous gold-trading nation, was the first inspiration for Sunjata. It's named after one version of the name of that empire's founder.
I also created a world in which the idea of an inborn sexual orientation doesn't really exist. This is true to human history (check out the now-classic The Invention of Heterosexuality by Jonathan Katz) and makes sense in my fantasy world as well. Characters certainly have sexual preferences, but nobody sees themselves as "straight" or "gay," per se.
I try to put in fun Medieval stories and factoids from around the world, as well. Avalon's official documents are written on lambskin, which also happened historically because it was durable and alterations to the text were easy to spot.
The "Swordinance," as John calls it, is Nottingham's law that forbids anyone below the nobility from carrying a sword. It was actually inspired by historical events in Japan, including the fact that banning sword ownership for the lower classes led to the development of many suspiciously long "knives." :D
Departing from History
But some historical things had to go. Medieval Europe was deeply, irrevocably molded by the Christianity of the day. As I do not use any real world religions in my world, there are many things that I threw out.
Since my goal was to make a sex-positive romance VN, the first thing I threw out was the idea of sin or shame being attached to sex. None of my fantasy societies have those concepts. Avalon is actually the most conservative in nature, as folk are encouraged to keep sexuality in the private sphere, but they don't think there's anything wrong with makin' whoopee. They're generally quite practical about it, and nobody blinks at same-sex relations.
Only the Avalon nobility discourages same-sex marriage because of their obsession with heirs, but there's no legal discrimination against same-sex couples at all.
This causes a number of possible anachronisms that I employ in the name of romance. I'm well aware that couples dances weren't really a thing in Medieval Europe, but they're romantic, and in a society that doesn't attach shame to sex, I feel like they'd come about naturally. So we have them.
Not the Middle Ages. Oh, well!
Avalon's light and shadow philosophy is instead inspired by more ancient Celtic beliefs, but it's not a perfect worldview by any means. It's a binary kind of philosophy (Avalon's, not necessarily ancient Celtic belief) that has led to a strong gender binary in Avalon and to a traditional men = public sphere and women = private sphere worldview that isn't present in Sunjata or Nibiru. I know some of y'all are sad that Marion has to battle sexism (particularly at the beginning of the game before she meets our love interests), but it was important to her story and future protagonists won't have to deal with that.
I've borrowed technologies from different eras and locations as well, because magic and cultural needs have caused technology to develop different ways in different places. Avalon has advanced herbal medicines and a wide variety of clothing dyes because of druidic magic. Sunjata has the best arms and armour because it has the most access to metals. Nibiru has acquired strong scientific knowledge of the natural world because it is a hostile environment for humanity.
Oh, and there aren't any guns anywhere because I don't like them. :-p
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I would love to have added more cultural influences from Medieval East Asia and the Americas, but considering it started as a Robin Hood fan game, this dang project is already huge and is planned to span three titles and maybe some game jam spinoffs. Someday I will make a fantasy world inspired by the Mayan civilization!
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ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-
Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀
only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader
Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D
Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-
"Assumptions."
Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader
TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old
Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane
It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.
That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"
Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.
He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.
You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.
The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.
"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"
You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.
"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."
Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.
"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.
"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"
You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.
"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.
All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.
"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?
Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.
"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."
"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."
You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.
You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.
"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.
"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.
Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.
"Help! Someone call a doctor!"
The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.
"Sir, let me see."
"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"
"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.
"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."
"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.
"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.
"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.
"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.
You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.
"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."
Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.
"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."
"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.
"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."
"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.
"Don't mention it."
"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.
The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.
"Are you a nurse or something?"
"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."
The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."
"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"
Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.
"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"
"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.
You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."
However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."
Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.
When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.
The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.
"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."
"Where's the guy?"
"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."
Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,
"What happened to your face?"
The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."
"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.
He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."
He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.
You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.
"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."
Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.
"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"
You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.
"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"
"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."
It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.
"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."
Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.
You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.
His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.
"Who's got you turning red brat?"
"Uh-it's nothing, captain."
He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.
"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."
"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.
"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.
You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."
"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."
"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.
"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"
"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."
Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.
Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.
It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.
Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.
You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.
It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.
Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.
It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.
"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.
"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.
He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.
"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.
As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.
"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.
"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."
"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."
You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,
"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."
Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,
"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."
"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.
"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."
You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."
Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.
"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"
When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.
"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."
"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.
"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."
"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.
"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."
You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.
"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."
"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.
"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."
"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."
You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.
"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."
"So he's charming?"
You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.
Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.
"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,
"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.
"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.
"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."
You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.
"So why haven't you told him?"
You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."
You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.
"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.
"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"
Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."
You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.
"What?"
"You're so fucking dense, Eren."
"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."
You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."
"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"
"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.
"Shallow." He spit out.
"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.
"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,
"We what, Eren?"
"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.
"Eren...come here."
"No, I should g-"
"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.
"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."
It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,
"Do you maybe feel the same way?"
You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.
When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."
You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."
The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.
"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.
The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."
He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.
The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.
A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-
"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."
His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.
"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.
Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.
"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."
Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.
One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.
You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.
You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.
"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."
His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.
"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.
Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.
"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.
"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.
He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.
"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.
Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.
"Please what baby?"
"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.
You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.
"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."
He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.
"With me."
You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.
Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.
"Hmm, right there princess?"
You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.
"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."
"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"
Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.
"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."
"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.
"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.
The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.
Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.
"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"
"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."
Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.
The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.
His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.
"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.
"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.
"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.
You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,
"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.
Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.
His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.
"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.
You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-
"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.
He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.
You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"
"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.
You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.
"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"
They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.
"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.
"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."
You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.
"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."
"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.
The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.
"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.
You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.
"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"
"Sure what do you need?"
"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"
The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.
You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.
Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.
#eren smut#eren jaeger#eren x y/n#eren jeager x reader#eren x you#attack on titan eren#eren jäger#eren aot#snk#shingeki no kyojin#aot smut#attack on titan#aot#loveanoutcast original#eren fluff#eren yeager#eren yaeger x y/n#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger x you#eren yaeger imagine#aot x reader#aot fanfiction#shingeki no kyoujin manga#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#snk x reader
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On being SO DONE with M*sha, a rant a decade in the making!
After giving this some thought I'm going to go ahead and give my opinion on Misha and yesterday’s situation in public for the first time ever. I was going to just post on Twitter but since this has been 12 years in the making I have exceeded the number of tweets I can put in one thread! There’s A LOT in here, so my summary is also long. I'm aware that I will lose followers over this, I'm not looking to offend anyone but it will inevitably happen. I wish anyone leaving all the best as fellow human beings.
TL;DR - having kept quiet for so long I’ve finally reached my limit and it’s all come bubbling out. I’ve never been a fan of Misha, I’ve been ambivalent for the most part, but have never criticised him in any hateful way, that's not who I am, but after all these years of putting up with his bullshit, attention seeking and troublemaking I am DONE. Deleting his tweet containing the word Wincest and replacing it with an APOLOGY just to pander to his Minions and save face is the straw that broke the camel's back. He has consistently pushed his ship on not only fans but on other actors (despite Jensen's discomfort, and him having repeatedly made his feelings known on it), he has stood by while his Minions/Hellers have harassed, victimised, doxxed and sent death threats to people based on their FICTIONAL ships. He has pandered to their gatekeeping, constantly demanded attention in obvious and not so obvious ways, and to the best of my knowledge never criticised their actions even though he's aware of it in a very real way. Some of his Minions have now taken their shit into The Boys fandom and created negativity for Jensen before the guy has even got a foot through the set door, and how is that supporting one half of your ship?
Misha has claimed to be a victim of targeted harassment from Wincest/brother fans (not only shippers) yet his fans have said and done the most despicable things on his watch, all in the name of what he must think is entertainment, or even his idea of a ‘joke’.
Any respect I had for the man based on his humanitarian work has gone because I can only take so much hypocrisy. He and his pandering because of a desperate attempt to be woke and wholly inclusive (which is actually impossible, no matter how good intentions are) are beyond pathetic. Whilst I have never seen why people think he’s so great I have friends IRL and online who genuinely adore the man, yet they have been shocked and upset by his contempt for half of the fandom that made him somewhat famous. It's disgusting and I'm not scrolling by any more. Misha, I hope to never see you on anything J2 related in future because none of us need that kind of negativity, *especially* not J2. Be gone, foul fiend!
OK, so to the too long part. Please be aware that these are my opinions as a fan of the show, of Sam and Dean, and J2, not only as a shipper. I can separate canon and fanon, and can view canon from a gen or shippy PoV. Whether you agree or disagree with my opinion let me be clear that I do not condone constant bashing and hate of a person or character so this isn’t the start of a regular thing for me. It's possible to have an opinion and not show the same vitriol that has been following this man around for years, and that’s what I’m doing. I've not posted this to prompt more negativity, it's simply to get it off my chest and make it clear how I feel. I stand by my philosophy of ship who you want to ship, enjoy it, but don't force it on other people and don't be a dick about it…hmm, that kinda sounds like familiar behaviour, though, does it not?!
I have ABSOLUTELY NO ISSUE with other people liking Misha, Cas or Destiel when it’s for the love of the characters and the ship. What I *do* have an issue with is people who are the true definition of a Heller. I don’t see that as a generic term, don't be ignorant and think I do because I know the difference between actual ship fans and the crazies, both ships have ‘em and I want no part of either of their venom. If you are reading this and class yourself as a Heller then you are part of the problem so run along and as you are all so fond of saying, 'get help' and take your bestie king with you.
I’m stating my opinion in what I feel is the most mature way I can, because unlike many people on SM, I am an adult and can act accordingly, with forethought and without resorting to temper tantrums and bullying of other people to get my point across. I am able to tell the difference between reality and fiction, I don't tar everyone with the same shipper brush and I don't expect everyone to agree with my opinion, but as we know opinions are like arseholes, we all have them and sometimes they stink. Unlike some, for the most part in life (online and offline) I *do* stand by what I say and don’t backtrack or delete things to appease the masses. I have spent a lot of time writing this out to be as clear as possible without being intentionally hateful. Bear with me jumping between actor and character where relevant, at this point they're conjoined. I will say this before I go any further, it doesn’t end well for Misha, I don’t mince my words and if you don’t like seeing facts and opinions laid out, this isn't the post for you.
I’ll say right off the bat what most of you have surmised - I’ve never held Misha (or Cas) in high esteem but I have never *hated* on him. I have shared mild criticism of his actions and opinions on Cas over the years but never, I feel, in any way that has made me feel I have something to apologise for. I have said several times I've been unhappy about Misha crashing con panels, taking attention away from J2 when at those cons *most* people paid their hard earned money to see the STARS of the show they love, first and foremost, and anyone else is a very nice bonus. The odd appearance here and there crashing a panel is fine (and Misha isn’t the first or last person to do it), maybe take up a few minutes then leave, but when someone commandeers an entire panel, that's just not on. It's not only selfish, rude and attention seeking but also disrespectful to other actors, fans and to the organisers who work hard to make sure everything ties in to give us the best con experience we can have. Everyone gets their turn on stage, there's no need to try and hog any more of the limelight, Veruca Salt style. Oh, and if you’re reading this and not getting that reference, (a) you shouldn’t be on my blog because you’re far too young, (b) look it up, and if you still don’t get what I’m saying… well then please refer to point (a). Thank you, kindly!
There was a time in Kripke's era where Cas was - I feel - intentionally used as a pawn by the writers to divert *canon* from the ‘questionable’ relationship between Sam and Dean, i.e. Wincest focus. Prior to that people (other fans) lightened up and just accepted the fact that Wincest had been there since day one in terms of the writing of the show and the fandom. All the cast and crew knew - J2, Kripke and JDM in particular - and made light of it, never judging, never shaming and often encouraging it because they understand it’s a fun part of fandom. Wincest was present enough to be part of the not so subtle subtext, as I said people just accepted it. Kink tomato was alive and well, so was ‘don’t like, don’t read’ and we all just scrolled over things we didn’t like without turning everything into a personal vendetta and excuse for bullying others who didn’t share our views. When the angels came into the plot I think most of us Wincest fans gave the Dean/Cas innuendos the small laugh they deserved and then turned back to the focus of the show which was the brothers, as it had always been intended. Misha, however, milked those moments as much as possible which was amusing at the start but got old *very* quickly, not just for fans (shippers and non shippers alike), but for other actors, in particular Jensen who is on record MULTIPLE times showing his dislike for Destiel. He told people outright that's not how he was playing the relationship between the two characters and CATEGORICALLY said "Destiel doesn't exist" but did it end there? No, it did not because neither fans or Misha let it go, in fact Misha only pushed more, goaded fans into flogging the same dead horse as much as possible. He’s never stopped, not even when there was so much discord in the fandom, a huge wedge was driven into it because of ships, which IMO he heavily contributed to.
Fast forward to over a decade later (a decade, seriously man, let it fucking go!) he didn’t even stop when Destiel did partially go canon. I have never doubted that Cas loved Dean (Sam, too) because in SPN lore angels are made to love, even rebellious ones. I, along with many others, liked that about Cas because who doesn't love a rebel, especially one rebelling for very good reasons, and because of those two wonderful men? Sam and Dean allowed him to see beyond what he'd been brainwashed to believe his entire existence. The fact is that although the nature of that love changed for Cas, it never did for Dean and was CANONICALLY UNREQUITED because Dean was incapable of loving anyone else as much as he loved Sam. All that mattered to Dean, even when he saw other characters as "family" was still Sam…ALWAYS Sam, every step of the way. Again for those who have too much Misha shaped wax in their ears, that’s canon. Whether people choose to see that love platonically or romantically is up to them, soulmates don't always have to be romantic, either way, brotherly love won out above all else on the show. No amount of Misha screaming ‘hey look, Destiel!’ changed that, but it sure didn’t stop him trying, did it?
So now that the obvious has been stated, here's something else we all know - never once in all of the years on the show did Misha drop rallying of the troops to his precious, ego stroking ship. Never once (that I am aware of) has he called out his Minions and Hellers on their continued harassment of everyone involved in the show and other fans despite the fact that they have bullied, victimised and wished bodily harm, rape and death on people who don't see their ship and because didn't get the ending to the story that they wanted. Not once has Misha shown any remorse for the trauma his "fans" have caused, and I’m taking REAL trauma, here, not the kind Twitter stans see as ‘triggering’ - people have been driven to close SM accounts, attempted, and in some cases succeeded in taking their own lives. These Minions have openly mocked Jared’s struggles with depression and anxiety, and Misha - who claims to be friends with J2 and be supportive of them in every way - has stood by and let it all play out, knowing full well some of the goings on, if not the full extent of how toxic these people are. We know he sees things being said online, and I have absolutely no doubt he spends time online searching his name for things that are relevant in some way to him in an effort to insert himself into a current conversation, or even start one so that attention is on him. Gotta stay relevant, somehow, right, Mish?
He has actively encouraged bullying by his actions of enabling the behaviours above, both by the flogging of the aforementioned dead horse, AND by not objecting to unacceptable behaviours. Remember when Minions and Hellers were slating J2, particularly Jared, for not posting on SM about BLM and other topics? Yeah, he didn’t ask them to stop doing that, either, even when he was tagged in things along the lines of ‘If Misha can post why can’t J2?’ etc. There have been some token protests, con vids I've seen have show his 'objections' which IMO have been done in a very tongue in cheek way, meaning that those people who needed to be pulled aside and told to change their ways just carried on, because their evil overlord didn’t explicitly explain it in terms a three year old could understand that bullying and forcing your opinion on others is WRONG. Not all of his cult are young and impressionable, not by a long shot, but many of the more vocal and vitriolic ones are.
As a father himself I wonder what Misha would do if he found out that his kids were behaving in ways his Minions are? I’m aware they’re young, but kids are cruel and bullying doesn’t just happen online. Even at whatever age they are, would he laugh it off the way he appears to have done with all of this fandom toxicity? Not bloody likely! I wonder if he’s as desperate to gain the approval of his family, friends and colleagues as he appears to be for that of his Minions/Hellers? I would certainly hope so, but that question can only be answered by Misha, himself, and I can and will not presume to speak on someone else's behalf on things in their personal life. For the record I would never presume I know what J2's answers would be on anything, however I do feel that after 15 years I have an accurate gauge on what kind of people they are so would be confident that any opinion I had on a matter aligns with their morals and ethics. As much as J2 have shared of themselves with us - willingly and under no pressure to do so, I might add - we don't *know* them, but we know enough to have an informed opinion. I can’t say the same for Misha because based on the behaviour he’s repeatedly displayed, things I've heard about from other fans as well as people I know IRL who have had direct dealings with him through cons or GISH (including some very actively in the early days when it was GISHWHES) he just hasn’t seemed like a person I wanted to follow on SM. I’ve never watched any of his solo panels, though I have watched ones with both or one of the J's, mostly being left irritated because of his behaviour. Watching the J’s put up with that shit is painful, and it’s a testament to how good they are as actors that they managed to hide at least some of their disdain for as long as they did. Microexpressions give them away, particularly Jensen, and they certainly have faces I have spent many years watching closely. Beautiful faces to go with beautiful souls, both of them! <3
I have precisely ZERO interest in Destiel as a ship, very little interest in Cas as a character anymore (though I did like him in the early days,and his relationship with Jack in late seasons) so I have absolutely no reason or desire to follow anything Misha does. That said, I've obviously been peripherally aware of some things he's been involved in because of friends, from things I’ve seen on SM and general fandom stuff. Despite the things I've already mentioned about his behaviour, up until now I have been able to maintain a level of respect for him as a person because of the humanitarian and charity work he's done. He seems like someone who really does want to change the world for the better and I am in full support of that fact, so much so that I have supported TWO campaigns relating to him. I bought one of the Super Good t-shirts for the campaign he did with Michael Sheen (a true angel!), the SPN/Good Omens x-over to help homeless charities, and I chose the design with text only and not artwork of Michael and Misha on, basically because I didn’t want to be wearing something with Misha’s face on it and I make absolutely no apology for that, whatsoever. I also bought Alex's #TheEndHasNoEnd shirt, which some of the profits went to Random Acts who do great work, so again, despite not liking Misha I still willingly contributed for a cause bigger than me, and to support Alex, who I absolutely ADORE. I'm aware that Stands aren't popular with some of the fandom, however since most of the cast of SPN are happily affiliated with them then I don't feel it's my place to either judge, or to discuss topics I know next to nothing about. But I digress, as a decent human being I have shown support tangentially to a man who I don't care for out of respect for the work he does outside the fandom. Telling you this isn’t to paint myself in a good light - I don’t need your approval, I’m a big girl, unlike some I don’t need constant validation! - only to provide background on how I’ve actively *not* hated on Misha.
Now though, any respect I had for him has come to an abrupt end, the events of the past 24 hours has seen to that. Whilst I have been annoyed at his behaviour in regards to shipping, I don't feel it's ever gone this far, or at least not that I've seen first hand. This man has, IMO, contributed to so much toxicity in the fandom by way of things I've mentioned before, he's claimed - without actually saying the words - that Wincest fans weren't interested in him as a character when he came onto the show, and hasn’t felt included because of the fans’ love of the brothers. Um, hate to break it to you, love, but when you come onto an established show that is about two people, and you’re a *guest star* you can’t expect everyone to love you. Some characters we as individuals do fall in love with straight away (Bobby, Charlie, Crowley and Rowena are good examples for me), it takes time to establish a dynamic, so if that’s how he felt then it was incredibly naive of him as an actor to expect instant acceptance from anyone. Also, why wait until after the show finished to bring it up AGAIN … oh wait, yeah, that would be to step back into the limelight in a way intended to garner sympathy from Minions and INTENTIONALLY piss off bro fans and Wincest shippers alike? How fucking self centred, desperate and disrespectful do you have to be to shit all over the finale of a show that for the most part accepted you and kept you in paid work for 12 years? Well, Misha Collins levels of all of those things, obviously.
So, on the topics of self centred, desperate to stay relevant, attention seeking and being oh so needy, the tweet yesterday from Amazon mentioned Castiel. He wasn’t tagged in it, so I refer to my earlier comment about searching online, because how else would he have possibly seen that? It’s possible someone sent it to him, I appreciate that, but if we go off past behaviour it’s not any stretch at all to believe that didn’t happen. So, once again, having seen the tweet he took it upon himself to - oh so predictably - turn it into something relating to Destiel. When I saw it I immediately rolled my eyes and thought ‘here we go again’, but then also had a little smile because I really liked the fact that he explicitly mentioned Wincest, therefore seeming to accept that his poor old dead horse wasn’t the only one in the race. I actually mentally tipped my hat to him then because it appeared that he’s matured enough to acknowledge by name the ship that predates his inclusion on the show. Great, I thought, this is a positive thing in a sea of negativity surrounding the man and his sunken ship, because what followed was Wincest trending in the US (it may also have been other countries as well but I had to sleep!) … largely due to the fact that Hellers were responding to it, calling him out on mentioning the dreaded ‘W’ word. I’ll repeat that because it’s been a rare occurrence up to that point… the Minions were actually disappointed with their overlord for mentioning another ship. We all know what they think of it and I for one, don’t give a flying fuck about their opionion. Ship and let ship, it’s all fun (or meant to be) so we have different tastes, that’s life kiddiwinks, deal with it. I mean, you really don’t have much of an example set for you when your king has proven several times over to be one of the biggest obnoxious brats out there, but just give it a try for your own sakes, yeah? Awesome, good on you, besties!
An unexpected development - to my joy and that of other Wincest shippers - them doing that got the topic trending, only *kept* trending by the fact that were all coming online asking why it was trending. Wincest shippers barely lifted a finger, we just flooded each other’s timelines with lovely content and basked in the Hellers - and Misha - shooting themselves in the foot, which was awesome. But did the vitriol stop? No. Did he get the attention he so clearly craves? Yes. Was it in the way he wanted? Fuck no, so poor, emotionally wounded baby backtracked after seeing that his name was trending alongside Wincest because that’s *so* not what someone narcissistic to do it in the first place, wanted.
Now here’s where I could easily have just moved on with an unusually fond chuckle, giving him an ironic pat on the back and a ‘thanks, Misha’ for being the one to instigate hours of fun, but once again his despicable behaviour made that impossible. It’s been more than obvious for many years that he cares more about what his fans think than anything else to do with the show and the fandom in a larger sense, but to delete the tweet and APOLOGISE for daring to be so insensitive to the snowflakes’ delicate sensibilities for mentioning Wincest in the first place was absolutely disgusting. Stating , “I used a term that I had never really given any thought to other than, "that's a thing?! Yuck." is not only complete and utter bullshit, it’s pandering of the highest order.
We all know he has referred to Wincest on multiple occasions, so to say he hadn’t thought about is a flat out lie, which IMO is an insult to everyone, not just Wincest shippers. Does the man have no self respect at all, why would you contradict yourself in the face of such overwhelming evidence? Instead of either ignoring all the people calling him out, or addressing it with another tweet saying ‘yeah, that happened’ or something similar he chose, I repeat, CHOSE the route of claiming he didn’t realise he was being offensive to people who felt ‘triggered’ by him using the word Wincest. He basically shat all over an entire ship and large sector of the fandom in an attempt to appease his own fan base which consists of a lot of children (or those that act like children) who have no idea what RL is like.
Once again, he’s reinforced the idea that if you shout loud enough at someone just because you don’t like something they said, they will back down and apologise for something even when there’s nothing to apologise for. If he wants to be such a role model then he could easily have pointed out that a fictional ship doesn’t condone RL incest, any ACTUAL trauma people have suffered because of RL situations, and made an effort to make sure people understand that. He COULD have used it as an opportunity to do some good in the fandom by encouraging people to build bridges, to accept that people are entitled to their beliefs and that sometimes we see things differently but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t treat others with BASIC HUMAN DECENCY because of it. Instead he YET AGAIN chose to show that he cares more about what Minions think of him, keeping them onside to constantly stroke his unbelievably fragile ego in everything he does.
It is my understanding that Misha is big on (or claims to be big on) putting positive energy out into the world, treating people with respect, helping others and accepting people for who they are, not who you want them to be… all this after YEARS of consistently practising what he preaches only when it suits him. He sends out a message that it’s perfectly OK to bully, to spread hate, to draw attention to yourself at the cost of others, to throw colleagues and friends under the bus and at the same time use them to further your own agenda and get hits for your YouTube channel. Is this really the legacy he wants to leave? Is this an environment he wants his own kids to grow up in as well as future generations? Is this what he thinks is a valuable contribution as a human being? JFC, the arrogance, hypocrisy and the need for constant validation this man exhibits is nothing short of cringeworthy… actually it’s beyond that. It’s deplorable behaviour, it’s not new, and he will continue to act like this for as long as he’s being enabled and this harmful cycle needs to end.
I have friends IRL and online who are (now, possibly, were) big Misha fans, who have supported him from either the beginning of his run on the show, or since they started watching, and this is how he repays this behaviour? He’s willfully alienating decent people (including multishippers) all to make himself look good by being seen to do everything he can not to offend people. Spoiler alert, you DID offend people, you continue to do so time and again and we’ve had enough. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be to be such a perpetual people pleaser, but let me say it’s not doing you any favours in any way, shape or form.
Misha, you are *not* a role model, you’re *not* someone to look up to when you can't live up to the ideals you preach. You’re spitting in the face of people who have supported you even after some questionable things in the past, who gave you the benefit of the doubt because we’re all human and we all make mistakes. The key to growing as a person is not to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over, understanding *why* what you said and/or did was a mistake and making a concerted effort to make changes. I don’t ever see you doing that, you will continue down this path of only caring about Minions under the guise of caring for people in general. You are transparent, you are sad and despite the fact I’ve never particularly liked you, I didn’t speak up because I didn’t want to get involved in the drama. Well now I have spoken up and I’m saying you’re a disgrace, you have no respect for other people and nobody is fooled anymore. If it hadn’t been this tweet it would have been something else, but I for one am glad it happened so soon after the show ended so we can finally be rid of the limpet-like behaviour. It’s over, let it go for the sake of what dignity you might have left, for the sake of your family and friends and for the sake of anyone who isn’t capable of seeing through your ‘it’s a joke’ mentality.
You have been weighed, you have been measured and you have been found wanting. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, Misha.
For anyone who made it to the end of my ramble, thank you. This has been a cathartic exercise and I’m drawing a line under it now, I don’t think I could possibly make my thoughts any clearer. I urge you not to get caught up in any petty squabbles with his Minions, let’s celebrate J2 and other cast and crew members who have shown us all respect and who I am proud to call part of the SPN family. There’s always one member of the family who needs to be frozen out for the good of everyone else.
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I've been trying to expand my horizons lately with some *activities* (shudder), and it's providing me with some pretty serious exercise, if not of the intellectual ilk, then just in terms of, like, managing my own pettiness. I am SO easily distracted by people's awful personalities that I almost lose sight of what I'm trying to do in the first place, and then before I know it I'm spending all my energy hating strangers instead of finding the benefits of a situation. Like I'm reading this fascinating, speculative anthropology text that traces the origins of modern show business to ancient shamanic traditions, and in the study group--largely composed of white Americans, many of whom are stage magicians or something--an alarming number of people seemed eager to proclaim that they "didn't get" a chapter involving the spectacle of Hell in modern entertainment, specifically because they're not Christian. Which is absolutely maddening, since no one complained about "not getting" the first 100 pages detailing the spiritual practices of long-extinct nomadic tribesmen in places like Siberia. These douchebags are just way to anxious to make sure everybody knows they don't read the Bible, just in case Penn Jillette might appear in a puff of smoke to shame them for not being atheistic enough.
Then on another night of the week, I'm in this Frankenstein discussion group--I've never read it before and I'm astonished by how drenched in shame and grief it is! Film adaptations usually describe Victor Frankenstein as a two-dimensional egomaniac who won't acknowledge his own hubris until his just desserts arrive, but the book (at least the first half or so) is hugely about feelings of guilt and disgrace and self-loathing. Then of course the group I'm in dogpiles on diagnosing Victor as a "white patriarchal sociopath", which like...I don't know if that really makes a point, as much as it expresses the joy people get out of saying hashtags out loud and misappropriating psychiatry terms. Like I'm not saying none of those things are construably true about Victor, but I don't think it's accurate to call someone a "sociopath" because:
A) they're shocked out of their minds by the gruesome reality, versus the idealized fantasy, of creating a zombie;
B) their actions have wildly unforeseeable consequences; or,
C) when wildly unforeseeable consequences arrive, they suffer a nervous collapse, and fail to do "the right thing", whatever that is in the outrageous world of one of the world's main horror novels.
Somebody dialed it back from "sociopath" to "narcissist", which was definitely more useful, even though it still smacked of the habit of pillaging the DSM just to be insulting, or to cover up your own inability to accurately observe and describe things organically. But uh anyway, once the words "white" and "patriarchal" slipped out, it seemed like everybody went insane with this urge to project all kinds of very modern intentions onto Mary Shelley and elevate her to the level of a Betty Friedan waging war against the folly of a male-dominated society.
And again it's like, while there are definitely socially critical strains in Shelley's writing (which was significantly a collaboration with her husband btw), I don't think the pat answer to "Why aren't there any substantial female characters in Frankenstein" has to be "because Shelley is smashing the patriarchy." Given the time frame, if she wanted Victor or Robert Walton or whoever to be female, she'd have to set up this whole thing about how each character was a genius and an iconoclast who defied contemporary sexist sanctions by launching herself, against all odds, as a globe-trotting explorer leading a crew of macho sailors to the edges of the world, or a career academic blasting through the limits of human knowledge despite the prejudices of her peers, professors, and public. The unfortunate reality is that sometimes when you want to make a strong point, you can't bring on all of your favorite thoughts and feelings at the same time, or else you wind up having to make all these justifications and explanations and contextualizations, and then before you know it, you're saying something else entirely. (People seemed sort of pissed off when I suggested this, but whatever, GOOD.)
Frankenstein was written in an era where science itself was a source of both wonder and terror, and it was ALSO importantly an era in which parenthood was fraught with potential horrors; Shelley wrote the novel in between the premature deaths of her first two children, and the notion of parenthood bringing tragic and perpetually haunting consequences is pretty much slathered all over the entire book, even in the lives of side characters. And the vanity of technology, and parenthood, are only two of the readily available lenses on the story; the book group itself was advertised as being angled toward Frankenstein's commentary on the prejudicial way in which human rights are assigned or withheld vis a vis race specifically. So like it's not really necessary to put your favorite words in Mary Shelley's mouth, so staunchly and exclusively, just because they're the words that get you the most likes on Twitter or whatever.
What I'm trying to say is not that people shouldn't do these kinds of thought experiments; I just mean like, I can TELL when someone is opportunistically using something as neutral as a classroom setting to try to get their personality validated the same way they do on social media, by being needlessly emotional or proscriptive or through basic sloganeering, and it's REALLY tiresome.
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Umbrella Pantheon
So i adore and love the god au for re8 by @booaghost and the art is DOPE. and my adhd/hyperfixation has decided this is the only thing now and have written my own headcannon for it. I especially like the minor/obscre characters like the sword maiden, Urias, the guy who made the dagger, and the guy who made the labrynths. (Leagăn refers to the expanded kingdom that was the Village) But right now here’s what i got for the Four Lords, Miranda, The Dark God, and the 3 Sisters: The Black God / It that Remembers / Necros / The Grimm Egg
A primordial god, not a conscious being but one of a strange and eldritch nature that rests below Leagăn the cradle of the creature. It wishes to be linked and to be known by every living thing, it cares not what is done with the power siphoned from it, only that it is gifted or taken at all. Curses dead flesh to rise again, and curses already living bodies to undergo horrible change. All under its sway that die turns into calcified crystal that in turn wields properties that could harm beings of Necros even further.
Mother Miranda / The Winged Mother / The Hag
Gifts divinity to those she finds worthy, they in turn gift divinity in their image, but she maintains absolute order in the hierarchy of the divine. She was the first among those in Leagăn to inherit divinity and when not attending to her divine duties she roams the countryside seeking those who would be worthy of divinity. But as of late she has been getting impatient, none of the other gods have been able to match her power and she is getting tired of their, in her eyes, wasted efforts.
Donna Beneviento (Berengario) / Goddess of Day and Night - Joy and Sorrow - Comedy and TragedyA silent goddess who only speaks on rare occasions. Her domain is the Theater and her throne and workshop at Mount Teatru’s peak. Due to her agoraphobia and aversion to humanity she solely works with non-living materials which gain their own life. Some of these mannequins and other living creations break off in their own passion causing joy and/or sorrow wherever they tread. Only a few humans are allowed near the theater and those who come too close to the peak are lost.
Salvatore Moreau (Nichola) / God of the Sea and Healing / The Vile PhysicianThe most meek of the gods who is self conscious of his divinity. He didn’t think he was worthy of it in the first place and dislikes the separation from humanity. People pray to him for safe passage on the ocean as well as healing illnesses. His fins are rumored to be a cure-all, but it takes canny or a great amount of trust in order to get one from him. He responds to any prayers he can but doesn't like making a show of it. When he does take on his human form he will attend a variety of plays and productions as well as attending different shows Donna has been concocting and is easily delighted by all of them. Frequently takes on the form of a mer-man or an anglerfish-like sea monster, as staying him his human form takes much energy to focus on.
Karl Heisenberg (Guglielmo) / God of Creation and Defiance / The Dark Prometheus
A spiteful god and one that encourages all humanity to rebel against higher powers and to break chains. Similar to the Duke, Karl will provide upstart adventurers and mundane folk with the tools to defeat obstacles placed by gods and even minor deities, but if they fail they are to be bound to him. He will allow them to succeed up to a certain point, so far as what he truly wanted accomplished is done so. The whole quest is a trick. All of those who fail fall back into his arms in defeat and shame and agree to join him. He holds no true love for his “siblings” but finds traits about them admirable. If they would join his side that would allow a chance for a bond to truly be forged between them, but he knows they are too enamored with their divinity and their mother to turn against her. He takes on the form of a clockwork horse or a centaur.
Alcina Dimitrescu (Cesare)/ Goddess of Harvest and Debauchery / Dragon of the Mountain
The most Prideful of the gods who was proud even before she was raised by divinity. Before she was a god she originally had three daughters that were killed by an assassin from the village below her castle. She then beat the man with a candlestick and choked him to death. But when she was gifted godhood she decided to make the lives of the village below her a living hell. For decades she would take villagers as a tithe to hunt and feast upon, until she came upon three infants who she took in and gave divinity and raised as her own. Miranda was impressed by the savagery and motherly instinct of Alcina and offered her own power in giving the girls power. She holds some bitterness towards her siblings, especially Heisenberg, seeing them as not quite regal or as fitting to the position of a god as her or her children. But despite this she holds them in warm regard, reluctantly, especially Donna in her creativity and Sal in his skill and knowledge in medicine.Takes on the form of a giant bat when going on hunts or a mighty furred dragon to wrestle and fight with Heisenberg.
The Aphid Daughters / The Witch Sisters / The Hateful Swarm
Bela- God of Blood and Guts (Mosquito) She seeks to hunt individuals who exhibit more bravery than most, some of them have even come close to inflicting a mortal wound on her. But she makes sure that it never goes too far and kills them before they inflict real harm.
Cassandra- God of Famine and Hunt (Locust) She torments by devastating crops and chasing villagers. She likes to provoke and prod at her uncles. She feels the need to be in constant company with her sisters or anyone she imprints on, constantly asking to hunt with someone else (even some of the werewolves if no one wants to).
Daniela- God of Love and Song (Cicada) She adores visits with Donna as she can join in her productions as a lead role. She tries to woo different maidens that are enlisted to join the castle staff to varying success and failure. Most likely to people please anyone despite her station.
#resident evil#resident evil village#castle dimitrescu#lord heisenberg#re8#dimitrescu#donna beneviento#salvatore moreau#karl heisenberg#alcina dimitrescu#umbrella pantheon#re8 au#My brain just really fucking loves this holy shit#Can't get enough? Well shit im making it
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