#current me: he might be bad but i could domesticate him (and make him worse)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

More:

My brother was with a girl who threw things at him and constantly hit him. And he would just stand there and take it because he didn't want to hit her back knowing what the result would be. My sisters didn't like that so they went after her. Huge fight among them, but my brother still didn't break up with her. She finally chose drugs over him and left. At least for my brother we all believed him. But I doubt other people would.

His current GF (might be an ex now, waiting to hear back), hit him and then threatened to tell the cops he hit her. She's an alcoholic and would fight everyone. She went after my niece and they called the cops, and the first thing the cops did when they got there was arrest my brother, who had just gotten home from work. My mom came out screaming at them that he didn't do anything. But that's how bad it is, they go after the first male they see for a domestic violence case when it was between two women,!

-

I was 15, sexually abused by my manager at my first job, one of the biggest fast food joints, Not once, but four times. Someone spotted the abuse and reported it to corporate and she got a promotion. I quit and my father ignored it. Police said the company handled it. Men who are abused are ignored... because it’s not “supposed to be possible”

-

I once had to do a presentation for a gender studies sort of course, and so having a friend who was abused by his girlfriend I chose to discuss the double standard in physical abuse. You'd think I was the devil incarnate - the women in the class glared and glared and glared for me raising the possibility that a woman hitting a man should be taken seriously.

-

My dad went through something like this. She threw plates and a bunch of other random objects at him, he was bleeding in several places and she called the police.

Despite that me and all of her kids told police that she was the aggressor they didn't care. He was arrested and a restraining order was on him before he even got out a few days later. We ended up homeless and lived in an old boxing ring for about 2 weeks before our local church helped out.

It was also his 3rd time dealing with police completely ignoring him when a woman was aggressive. It made me feel like women could just do anything they want as I grew up and I completely avoided them and relationships in general for a long time.

I'm 38 now and it still makes me uneasy

-

I lost my virginity bc a girl (who I had said NO to) mounted up and rode me while I was passed out drunk. I woke up from what I thought was a wet dream finishing inside her with no protection. It messed with me pretty hard because I'd been trying to save my virginity for a serious girlfriend or someone other than just some girl I barely knew. Not to mention the fact that I had no idea if I was about to be an unwilling father (thankfully that was not the case).

My friends just kind of said "well...at least you got laid, right?". I can't really blame them because it took a while (like, years) for me to even realize that what happened was clearly rape. Wrapping our college-age heads around the fact a guy could get raped was tough, I guess.

I also got sexually harassed by a pair of women at a job in college and telling people about it was met with attempts to high-five me.

-

Laughed at, mocked, put down. Even had video of her hitting/kicking/ abusing me and people just made fun of me and the situation even worse. It was not real to them.

-

The sexual abuse hotline counselor asked me if I was even into women when I told her what happened and then made excuses for her bc “she was drunk and acting on instinct”.

-

Tried to tell a few people. No one really believed me in my circle of friends. They were able to convince their friends that I was the abuser. The last straw was when they used a taser. That shit hurts and left burns. That truly was the last straw because it left enough evidence that I could use to document the abuse and get out. Without physical evidence it was word against word and as the male, no one believed me.

-

They didn’t believe me at first. And then they saw her do it to me. Her friends believed me before my own friends did. They said that they knew she was like that and that she was aggressive and physically abusive to them sometimes and her own mother.

I was with her for 18 months of hell. At first it was normal and cute and fun and then she started being really strange. First it was telling me I couldn’t have friends who are girls. Then it was I couldn’t have friends. Then it was the hitting and punching and kicking me. She said she was pregnant before she was pregnant and didn’t let me use protection with her and if I wasn’t into fucking her then she’d just fuck me anyways.

The kicker that really stuck with me all these years is when she was beating the fuck out of me and accidentally called her mom and she heard her yelling and screaming and thought I was hurting her so she called the police and her parents and police both showed up at my house asking if everything was okay and if I was hurting her. She said confidently “He didn’t hurt me I was hitting him” and the police and her parents both just kinda accepted that and told her to leave my house and go back to her parents for the night. No arrests. No talking to her about how wrong it was. Just a slap on the wrist after flat out telling police she was hitting me. Didn’t ask if I wanted to press charges. Didn’t ask if I was okay. Just were relieved it wasn’t me hitting her.

-

I had been attacked by now ex wife. I said something that made her mad and it wasn't the first time. She hit me in the back of the head with a rolling pin. I yelled and the neighbors called the cops. When they arrived I was still beading. I was then handcuffed and sat on the curb while they investigated the issue. My ex eventually confessed she hit me because she was mad at me. I never raised a hand at her during the incident but I was then taken to the police station and I was booked. I was released the next day after they determined i wasn't the aggressor. I was told on my release that if I antagonize her again its my fault and I deserve what I get.

-

Continued:

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/jidoph/men_who_are_abused_by_woman_and_tried_to_tell/

=

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duluth_model

The feminist theory underlying the Duluth Model is that men use violence within relationships to exercise power and control.

According to the Duluth Model, "women and children are vulnerable to violence because of their unequal social, economic, and political status in society."

Criticism of the Duluth Model has centered on the program's sexist insistence that men are perpetrators who are violent because they have been socialized in a patriarchy that condones male violence, and that women are victims who are violent only in self-defense.

https://home.csulb.edu/~mfiebert/htdocs/assaults_bib343_201307.doc

Abstract: This bibliography examines 343 scholarly investigations; 270 empirical studies and 73 reviews and/or analyses, which demonstrate that women are as physically aggressive, or more aggressive, than men in their relationships with their spouses or male partners.  The aggregate sample size in the reviewed studies exceeds 440,850.

#SystemicSexism

[thezombieprostitute]

Tenure

A/N: This is yet another entry for @the-slumberparty​‘s Bingo. This time I’m mixing together three squares: Professor AU, Caught Redhanded and Enemies. Reader is female.

Warnings: Sexism, bullying, body shaming, workplace sexism

Being an adjunct professor in any field can be such difficult, but rewarding work. Especially if you’re able to get tenure. Today was definitely on the difficult side, made worse by Professor Charles Blackwood, your current competition for the one tenure position available in the department. Even before this the two of you were always at odds. He was a pretentious shit who insisted that your time would be better spent as a housewife, “if you could find a man to take pity on you.” It got so bad you even stopped bringing in baked goods to share because he’d always use them as evidence for his case. But you couldn’t afford to make waves or fight back. He had a rich family to fall back on, you couldn’t afford a blemish on your record. 

Today, he brought his friend from the literature department, Professor Drysdale, to use your shared office. Between the two of them, you heard more comments about your size in one hour than you had in an entire month. You tried to bury yourself in work, getting back with students, TA’s, researchers and co-authors. Headphones didn’t help since the conflicting noises of music and a conversation, while trying to focus on work, aggravated you in ways you couldn’t really describe. By the time they left, your jaw, shoulders and neck were all sore from how tense you’d become. Blackwood must be upping his taunting given that the tenure decision was in less than a week but you’d be damned if you let him break you so he could win.

After double checking some of your latest work, you stood up, stretched and refilled your water. You didn’t need to check the time since Curtis, the custodian for your building, was working and that tells you it’s way late and you should be home. You smile and wave at Curtis and he nods in your direction. You quickly run back to your office and grab a couple of cookies you’d brought in for him. You might not bring in baked goods for the department, but you’ll happily still share with a friend. 

Well, maybe “friend” was too strong. You shared some food and smiled at him but all you ever really got was an appreciative grunt and an occasional “thank you” note left on your desk. You figured he just wanted to do his job and go home, something you could definitely respect. It can’t be easy, or enjoyable, cleaning up after college students for a living. Still, you hated hoarding your baked goods and Curtis was safe enough to share with. At the very least, he never told you to give up your work.

“I hope you like them,” you said as you handed him a small bag of cookies. “It’s a new recipe and I’d love to hear if they’re actually good or if it’s just me.” Curtis put the bag in his pack and nodded. Sensing you weren’t going to get anything else from him, you turned and went back to your office.

The day of the decision comes faster than you expected. Blackwood had Drysdale visit him often and the resulting stress was affecting everything in your life. You’d even burned a batch of cookies for the first time in years. You thought you were hiding the stress well, no one seemed to comment, but you did notice Curtis was actually checking in on you. For others it would likely be a small gesture but to you, it was everything you needed to keep going without crying.

You and Blackwood are in your shared office when you both receive your emails. You get two sentences in before you read, “we’ve decided to go with Prof. Blackwood for the position.” You feel so defeated, deflated and defective. You don’t bother looking at Blackwood, knowing he’s wearing his smug smirk and watching for you to start crying. 

“I told you,” Blackwood sneered, “you shouldn’t be here. You need to find yourself a blind husband and just focus on your domestic skills.”

“Please, just leave me alone,” you whisper. “You’ve won. You don’t need to bother yourself with me any more.”

“I could always offer you a consolation prize.”

“I want nothing from you other than to leave me alone.”

“But you’re so much fun to poke at! You never strike back and it makes me even more eager to be the one that finally breaks your resolve. The one that gets to finally see your tears, to earn your tears.”

“Charles, I’m too tired to give you what you want. If you aren’t going to leave me alone, I’ll just go ahead and head out for the day.” You start to pack up your work and Blackwood almost looks like he’s going to throw a fit.

“No, you will not!” He stands up, using his height to stare down at you and look more menacing. “This is my victory and I will have my prize! Now cry for me like the good girl you are.”

“Ahem…” you hear a fake cough at the door and turn to see Curtis standing there, with his phone out, very clearly recording the interaction. You turn back to Blackwood and see him go pale before he starts walking towards Curtis.

“You’re going to delete that video,” Blackwood orders. “I’m a tenured professor with connections and I will have your job otherwise!”

Curtis doesn’t move and you see the corners of his mouth turn up into an almost smile. The much larger man doesn’t put away the phone and replies, “I’m the Custodian, I’ve got dirt on everyone. And that includes those connections you used to get that tenure.” Blackwood stops his advance and you see him practically vibrating with rage, or maybe it’s fear. “Now apologize to the lady.”

“That’s not needed,” you interject. “I know it wouldn’t be sincere.”

“Want me to get him to turn down the job? I can do that in a few ways.”

“No, but thank you, very much.” Part of you enjoys talking about Blackwood as if he wasn’t there. “If I were to take the job I’d have to keep watching my back because they’d get rid of me or treat me like shit at every turn.”

Curtis finally puts away his phone, walks past Blackwood and holds out his hand to you. “I’m gonna miss you, but I respect your decision.” You shake his hand and give him a tired smile. “With your permission,” he continues, “I’d like to keep an eye on you until you leave. Make sure this one doesn’t keep bothering you.” He points to Blackwood who still looks to be in a state of shock. 

“I’d really appreciate that, Curtis. Thank you.”

It’s been several years since then and you’ve really found your place, professionally and (if things with the cute, muscular IT guy keep going well) personally. You’re hard at work setting up the syllabus for next semester when you get a phone call.

“Hello, this is Y/N Y/L/N. How may I help you?”

“Hello Prof. Y/L/N, this is Dean Vernon at Mathematics And and Research Sciences University. I’m calling about a reference.”

“Oh, okay. Would you please tell me who listed me?” You’re not surprised at the call, several of your former students have put you down as a reference and you’re happy to support them.

“It’s Professor Charles Blackwood,” Dean Vernon responded. “He’s applying for an adjunct professorship with us.”

Your mouth drops and you’re quiet for so long Dean Vernon asks, “are you still there?”

“Yes,” you snap out of your shock, “yes, I’m just surprised is all. Last I saw him, he had just gotten tenure.”

“Well that’s part of why I’m calling,” Vernon continued. “Per his credentials, he really should be in a better position. Can you tell me about your experience working with him?”

You chuckle quietly at the incredible position you find yourself in. You allow yourself to smile wide and tell him, “if you hire Professor Blackwood, you are opening yourself up to a lot of lawsuits. Last I saw him, he was trying to make me cry for the fun of it. I can only think that he listed me as a reference because he thought I’d still act like I was under his thumb. Thankfully, I’m not and can warn you not to hire him. Keep your own employees safe and do. Not. Hire. Him.”

The phone is quiet for a bit before Dean Vernon says, “thank you for the information” and hangs up. The rest of your day is spent with a big smile on your face.

A/N2: please let me know if you found the Futurama reference.

[oddcnes]

–  have you seen jacob christopher bancroft around los angeles? the twenty five year old is usually jamming to star walkin' by lil nas x. word around the city is that they’re compassionate, yet, they can also be restless, but you didn’t hear that from me. they’re currently a/an musician/ songwriter and are typically seen walking the streets of los angeles with his guitar strapped on his back. when i think of them, i think of  broken promises within a broken home, late nights strumming on the guitar and the iron will of never losing hope. let’s hope the city treats them good!

STATS:

full name: jacob christopher bancroft

goes by: jc bancroft ( his artist name )

age:  25

date of birth / zodiac sign: June 14th / gemini

place of birth: cleveland, ohio

gender:  cis male

pronouns: he / him

orientation: homosexual / homoromantic

current residence: los angeles, california

occupation: musician ( guitarist within a band ) / songwriter

BACKGROUND: tw alcohol addiction, domestic violence

As far as JC can remember his parents had always faught with each other. The Bancroft household was a loud, violent and unsafe place growing up. But JC was somewhat safe while his mother was around, aside from the yelling when he did something he shouldn't do. This changed when he was ten years old. He had heard his mother packing her things in the middle of the night and asked where she was going. JC wanted to go with her, but she didn't. The last thing she said to him was: "I can't, I'm sorry. You look too much like him." Words that kept echoing within the boys ears even years later. His father snapped when JC told him about his mom had left, blaming him for her leaving when his father was the only one responsible for it. It was the first time his father beat him and it wouldn't remain the only time.

Since his father was an alcoholic it was easy for JC to get his hands on the alcohol as well, drowning his sorrows and pain with it. When someone got on his bad side he let his fists speak for him as it was the only language he knew.

The only real friend he had, or so he felt at least, was a girl who was living a few houses down the street. Her family was gifted in music and they where the ones who taught JC to play the guitar. It was the one thing that brought him true comfort. That's why he spent a lot of time at their house, avoiding to go home at all costs, despite knowing it would only make his situation with his father worse.

Eventually the girl had formed a band and JC became part of it. When he was eighteen they put their savings together and went to Los Angeles. Travled across the country to chase their dream together. But Los Angeles didn't make it easy on them and they had to work odd jobs to get by, played as many gigs as they could and when most of the band was close to giving up, they finally found someone who took interest in them, saw their potential. Finally they began to walk on the path that led to them making a name for themselves and finally be able to live off the music they were making. Unfortunately, JC's alcohol addiction put a damper on their flourishing career as he kept spiraling downwards. Together they decided it was best for him to go to rehab. Something JC wanted himself as well. He wanted to get better and finally leave all the bad stuff behind him. So the band went on a break.

JC is now a recovered alcoholic. He has been sober for almost two years and he does everything to keep it that way. Music and his band mean everything to him. They give him the strength he needs to remain on the right track.

ADDITIONAL NOTE:

He has trouble to sit still when he’s stressed or nervous, either he starts drumming on any surface close to him, fiddles with his fingers or paces up and down

JC has never been in a relationship and is under the impression he's not made for it either. He has no problem with uncommitted flings, but anything more than that? He isn't sure. ( this might change though, now that his life is back on track )

CONNECTIONS:

Cillian 'Leon' O'Hara — current friends with benefits that has started developing into more.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

fellow musicians

friends

former friends with benefits

former drinking buddies

former one night stands / flings

[malewifehenrycooldown]

ben 10 crush? 👀👀

IT'S NOT MY FAULT I WANT TO HOLD HANDS WITH A CTHULHU ALIEN WAR LORD.

[realcube]

comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝

characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi

thanks to anon for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)

tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint

Kenma Kuzome

bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad

he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs

so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE

like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!

anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito 

also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say 

you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol

depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again

then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly 

assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh

..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well

so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’

he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible 

and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises  ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

Kōtarō Bokuto

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic

so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself

so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS

emo-mode engaged :(

his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you 

‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket

 when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse 

he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’

at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two

‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes

‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck

you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’ 

there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’

you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?

like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him

or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection

or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’

‘so i can get a qualification.’

‘why do you need that?’

‘so i can apply for a job.’

‘why do you need a job?’

‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’

‘you can have my money!’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you

Wakatoshi Ushijima

both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another 

if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out

and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower

but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it

i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?

and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves

 that was, until today

you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down

ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list 

but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze

like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly

your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him

it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl

like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination

after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’

‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’

‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’

you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop 

but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him, 

‘work?’ he hummed his assumption

‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being

but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense

Kei Tsukishima

ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE

wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either

like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act

this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that （￣︶￣)

anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄

‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’

‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it 

‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted

on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad

but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help

he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better 

‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice

there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you

he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness

‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’

‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname

and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love 

in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’

so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery

you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens 

feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears 

he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words 

if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’

so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’

he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh

Keiji Akaashi

boyfie material right here

i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh

because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌

also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG

he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’

and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’ 

then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’

HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol

anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong 

‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’

‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’

‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

‘would you like a hug?’

‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’

‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’

a king- 👑

also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before 

plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible

so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)

akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice 

but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too 

honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

You wrote your opinions on the Order of the Phoenix, what about the Death Eaters? That's another way of saying Lucius, Bellatrix, and anybody else. I honestly feel that we're running out of HP characters for you to write your opinion and reasoning about, so yeah~

We honestly are. When people start asking me questions about Harry’s nameless and faceless classmates I feel like we’re scraping the bottom of my barrel of Harry Potter opinions.

Though, that said, this is still a very large ask if you want me to analyze very Death Eater ever or even the Death Eaters as a whole (which is worthy of its own post).

So, we’ll compromise, and I’ll just look at the two you name dropped.

Lucius Malfoy

To me, Lucius is by far one of the more intelligent Death Eaters. He’s the guy who makes them almost look classy. I say almost, because Lucius is still a racist domestic terrorist and as the series goes on Tom gleefully drags him into being less classy by the minute (his house becomes a POW camp and housing for the dregs of society, Lucius just sobs, trying to be thankful he’s somehow still alive).

Lucius is rich, sophisticated, and is probably the most politically powerful man in the country. He has a beautiful wife he has... a son (sorry Draco, but you do not live up to your father) the guy has it all.

Which makes it very surprising that he got dragged into this mess. But you see, Lucius is paying for that tragedy we call youth.

Also, as a caveat, I’m about to headcanon hard and will not bother to get into the details of why I think x, y, or z in this post.

Ten years prior to the start of canon, Lucius is a very young man, probably very charismatic, certainly believes he’s intelligent and probably gets decent grades, but nonetheless the kind of stupid you see in men ages 15-25.

He’s likely chafing under his aging father’s strict guidance, knows he’s not going to be Lord Malfoy for years yet, wants to get out there, prove himself, and make a difference for his country. More importantly for Lucius, there’s this hip, exciting, new thing that all his cousins and friends are getting into called “The Death Eaters” (yes, I don’t believe the Knights of Walpurgis/Death Eaters 1.0 ever happened, I think it’s ridiculous that fandom and JKR does, I could go into why but not in this post). 

The Death Eaters are led by the single handedly most beautiful, charismatic, man in Britain. (Yes, I headcanon Tom’s still blindingly attractive at this stage, because it makes much more sense to me but we’re not getting into that here.) A mysterious man by the name of Voldemort, Salazar Slytherin’s long lost heir, who has come to resurrect the wizarding world’s true heritage and purge the land of the muggle stain. (Yes, I do believe that no one, not even Lucius who is later given the diary, knew who Tom really was. I believe Regulus’ had only the vaguest idea, informed mostly by Tom’s use of Kreacher to place the locket.) This is the most exciting thing to have ever happened, the rallies probably consist of rich kids drunk out of their minds and maybe even high on a little wizard cocaine, and Lucius is down for it precisely because his father says “Lucius, this is stupid, please don’t embarrass the family.” WELL LUCIUS IS GOING TO EMBARRASS THE FAMILY, DAD! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?!

And for a while, it looks like Lucius made the right choice. Things are happening, they’re actually going out and killing the mudbloods! Unlike Regulus, Lucius never has that “wait a minute” moment as he realizes that Voldemort’s actually far more efficiently eliminating pureblood families and sowing dissention in what was once a unanimous force among the Wizengamot (the other pureblood lords aren’t necessarily pro muggleborn, per se, but they get a bit queasy at the thought of blowing them up or Merlin forbid actually blowing up their own public venues wizards use). 

And then October 31st, 1981 happens, and it all comes crashing down. Lucius has to desperately lie his ass off, having only the flimsiest lie to rely on, has to hand out a shit ton of bribes, and manages to squeeze his way out of being imprisoned in Azkaban. 

I’m sure Abraxas looked at his son, with his tattoo on his arm that makes him another man’s slave, at the utter destruction of the Black family, and just shook his head going, “Clean up your mess, Dumbass Son”

And Lucius does to the best of his ability. While some will always suspect him of being a Death Eater, while some know it, he’s able to climb very high in influence in their ridiculously tiny community. Granted, I do think he messed up, and could never for example run for minister given everything (if Crouch can’t rerun then Lucius certainly can’t). He also shows us that in some ways he is not above the law, he’s very afraid his house will be searched without warrant in The Chamber of Secrets, and this is in part why he dumps Tom Riddle’s diary off onto Ginny.

However, he wields total control of the Prophet, has a seat on the Wizengamot, has the ear of the current Minister, is on the Hogwarts’ Board of Governors, and has his hands in pretty much every pie he can.

I imagine during this period Lucius grows up. He brushes the indiscretions of his youth under the carpet, gleefully leaving it all behind him, and the only real friend he maintains contact with from that period is Severus, the least zealot like of all of them. (Crabbe and Goyle Sr aren’t friends, they’re minions). 

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a racist slime bag, and I don’t think he really regrets the domestic terrorism. He just regrets nearly getting caught and putting his entire family’s security on the line. He witnessed first hand what happened to the Blacks.

And then the worst thing happens: Tom Riddle rises from the dead. He rises, impossibly, from the dead when Lucius has his own hand caught in the cookie jar.

Lucius has been living a life of luxury and influence while his great master, the man he had pledged everything to, was dead. Worse, Lucius took what was described as a treasured item to be protected at all costs, and not only threw it away but sent it to Hogwarts where it caused massive havoc and was ultimately destroyed. 

And Lucius, I imagine, no longer wants to serve a master.

But he has no choice. And so begins Lucius’ descent into misery and hell as he’s given an increasing set of impossible, horrific, tasks in punishment that involve him watching as his wife and son are put through hell.

I believe Tom holds a special place in his cold, black, passive aggressive heart for Lucius Malfoy.

First, Tom makes Lucius’ house his headquarters. Oh, Lucius, you have a very nice, very large, estate? Why don’t you host your beloved, mad, cousin, her equally mad husband and brother-in-law? Oh, Bellatrix threatened to cut off your ear? Well, she’s just so passionate! 

Second, Lucius is told to go get the prophecy. Well, this is easier said than done. He nearly succeeds but then it all turns into the world’s largest clusterfuck that ends in two notable things. First, the prophecy is lost forever, shattered. Second, the government admits that Voldemort is truly resurrected. Both of these things are very bad in Tom’s book. And the blame can easily be put on Lucius’ head.

In response to this, Draco is now given an impossible task that Draco is too stupid to realize is designed to cause him (and his family) as much misery as possible. Draco is to assassinate Dumbledore. 

Likely, Tom was already informed by Snape that Dumbledore was dying. The blackened hand was too obvious a tell coming from too obvious a source for the pair to have hid it. I think trying to hide such information would have immediately blown Snape’s cover. So, Tom knows the man is dying, and doesn’t see fit to tell Draco this.

Instead, he tells Draco, “Kill Dumbledore as soon as possible or I deliver you to Fenrir Grayback.” Draco, however, is young and stupid, so he honestly thinks he is doing this to restore the family honor, earn glory for himself and for the cause, and is expected to do this entirely by himself. As a result, when Narcissa begs Snape to aid Draco, Draco blows them both off and only accepts help from Bellatrix because HE CAN DO THIS ON HIS OWN! DRACO IS A MAN.

This, of course, doesn’t work out either. Draco doesn’t deliver the killing blow, Snape does, but Tom decides to give him a pass.

Instead he moves on to his next plan which is making the Malfoy manor his torture chamber and POW camp. Even Draco, at this point, realizes this all kind of sucks. 

And then Voldemort finally dies a second time, and I’m sure Lucius just stares numbly at his malformed corpse, wondering if it will really take this time.

So that’s Lucius for you, paying always for his mistakes, and pretending he’s just as much of a nutcase as Bellatrix to fit in.

Bellatrix LeStrange

God, compared to the novel that is Lucius’ ridiculous life, I really don’t have much to say about her because I feel like there’s not much too her.

Bellatrix reminds me a lot of the Manson family, she gives off those same vibes. Point being, I think even before Azkaban (while Azkaban certainly didn’t help), she was insane and a little too worshipful of Voldemort.

I guess I can start there, I don’t think Bellamort is a thing, at all. 

Tom may have, probably did, have sex with her before he died but afterwards? In that body? Forget about it.

That said, I’m sure Bellatrix both wanted to have sex and is convinced she did have sex to produce whatever the hell Delphi even is. It just wasn’t with Tom, and probably was Rodolphous with a Halloween mask on his face as they got a little too into role play.

And there we go, I suppose, I can’t take Bellatrix seriously. You often see her portrayed as sexy femme fatale Death Eater, the most competent of all of them, if a bit of a sadist.

Oh she might be a very good duelist but she’s... Bellatrix.

She prances around in corsets, shrieking madly, and just what part of that is supposed to be femme fatale? I literally cannot take her seriously on any level. When I even try to write her seriously, in very serious stories, I end up with lines like the following:

"My lord, if there's anything you need… Anything from me, specifically, as a woman…" 

- Bright Eyes

That was my best attempt. That was the best I could come up with. It’s still something that belongs in a comedy.

So, I don’t think Tom really corrupted her. I think without Voldemort she still probably would have been blowing up Diagon Alley, just in a much less organized manner.

Even in canon she does ridiculous things. For example, Bellatrix, frankly, could have easily avoided prison.

For weeks after the dark lord fell neither she, her husband, Barty, nor her brother-in-law were arrested. Bellatrix in grief and utter disbelief that the dark lord could ever do something so mortal as die, said “remember that other house our lord mentioned, THEY MIGHT HAVE INFORMATION, LET’S GO MURDER THE LONGBOTTOMS!” They torture and kidnap Frank, demanding he tell them where their master is, THEY KNOW HE KNOWS. He doesn’t know. They go too far and torture the man into being a vegetable. “Shit, GET THE WIFE!” They go get the wife, do the same thing, with the same results.

They now have no information on the dark lord, two well regarded aurors tortured into brain damage, and are quickly caught and brought before the court with absolutely no “I was imperiused” excuse they can give out. 

How am I supposed to take her in any way seriously?

I mean, to end your life killed in a duel with Molly Weasley. That just says it all.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Yandere Komaeda Headcanons submitted by Chaos under the cut (y) Warnings: Slight nsfw, yandere behavior, stalking, mention of suicide, masturbation (not very explicit.)

Yandere Nagito probably wasn't very Yandere before you came along. The unlucky boy was probably still the funky little creep to his classmates as always but as soon as you step through the doorway of 77-B's classroom then he kind of just thought, "Oh, they're pretty." And continued with his day. He didn't think too much of you.

If you were an ultimate who walked into the classroom, he wouldn't have thought much of it besides the idea that "YoU wErE sPrEaDiNg HoPe 😩"

If you were a reserve course student, on the other hand, he would think he is slightly superior. So, if you talk to him he'll feel like he's better than you but won't say anything except under certain circumstances (ex: You ask him for his opinion of you, his opinion on reserve course, that kind of stuff. At least, he's honest :/) But keep in mind, he only really acts like this when you two first meet.

After getting to form a friendship with you (however that happened, I'll leave that up to you), his crush on you takes shape quickly.

He mostly just did small stuff that made it obvious that he liked you (whether he realized it or not.) If you weren't around he'd be asking everyone in sight if they knew where you were. He'd linger uncomfortably close to you whenever you two were together. The unlucky boy also tended to...✨follow✨ you.

Bestie, run while you still can 🏃‍♀️💨 because after he kidnaps you you're gonna be more like ♿

(I guess that's assuming you can run at all...sorry if I offended someone ._.)

When you two are hanging out, he eventually opens up to you about his illnesses and past. All of what he told you would probably be a lot to process so the only thing you can think of besides, "I'm so sorry that happened to you," is that you just hug him. Now he's shocked. You're both shocked. wOAH! Nagito doesn't move at all during the hug and probably forgot to breathe because c'mon...homie hasn't received any form of physical affection for God knows how long. He's drawing a total blank and the first words that spring to his mind are, "I'm going to marry them."

You cannot tell me this man doesn't want to get married one day. Yes, his luck sucks fat juicy butt but it's just something he craves and can be selfish about. Nagito's opinion on his want for having a spouse goes back and forth, like how the fitness gram pacer test works (I bet some of you don't even know that this is something outside of a meme lol.) He probably got this desire from seeing how bad his parents' relationship was.

Nerdy headcanon stuff you don't have to read: So, it isn't canon that his parents had a bad relationship but I imagine that they did because Nagito mentions that his mom had never complimented him and he gained a massive inheritance after his family's death. Let me explain my logic on those. Nagito's mom probably never complimented him because she didn't like or want him. I also headcanon that his parents were in an arranged marriage which is why they were so rich and why I think they had a bad relationship, because let's be honest, not all arranged couples are comfortable with one another. The arranged marriage also could've been the reason why his family was wealthy, it could have had to do with business and work. So to wrap it all up, Nagito's parents are rich because of an arranged marriage and they don't really like each other and they had a kid that neither of them wanted so now it's a broken family with a fucked up kid. I know that sounds like a stretch but that's why it's a headcanon and not actually canon lol.

After that one hug, that's when he truly sees you as some sort of ethereal Deity that he was sure he was going to wed in the future (Hell, he'd probably settle for right there, right now.) He no longer cared if you were an ultimate or not because now he saw you as something even greater. Of course, he still views himself as scum but even scum has desires that they are willing to do anything for.

After Nagito had come back to his dorm, the realization hit him that if he was going to marry you, he would have to be worthy of your hand in marriage. So, he prepares. By that I mean he starts stalking you a lot.

You two were already friends on social media so you probably didn’t dwell too much on it when you found him accidentally liking old posts. He’d go on your socials and scroll through it looking for every little bit of information he could find on you. Sometimes he'd strike gold and other times he'd dig up dirt. Nagito began talking to you a lot more so he could gain some information on your likes and dislikes. You only assumed that he was more comfortable with talking to you now because he confided his troubles in you but in reality he was planning your future life with him. Once in a while you'd invite to your dorm whether it was for hangouts, study sessions, or just sleepovers (he absolutely LOVED it when you brought those up.) The only opening he had to steal stuff is when you went to the bathroom and when that happened all he'd do every single time is go to the closet, grab another one of the pillow cases that the dorm provides, and switch them out with your current ones. When the pillowcase stops smelling like you then he just sticks it in the school's laundry basket where things like bed sheets, pillow cases, and blankets that belong to the school go.

After weeks after weeks of obtaining bits and pieces of information on you such as food you like and dislike, what your family is like (If you/your oc has one), your favorite movies, music genres, and clothing, etc., He eventually realized that he lacked three more things. Romance, experience, and…"performance."

The one thing he absolutely needed to learn first was "How to kiss." Even though no one sees his search history besides him, it was still very  embarrassing to put those words on his computer. He typed those three letters into the google machine and ta-da! A wikihow page and a YouTube video were apparently his best options. He opted for the latter and watched as a lady and her boyfriend demonstrated how to perform different types of kisses. Intimate and sexual. He feels awkward just watching this and he feels like he should practice but...on what? Luckily for him, there is a perfectly good pillow lying on his bed.

...This was definitely weird. His chapped lips were pressed against the plush pillow as he imagined he was french kissing you. This doesn't seem like the greatest method but Nagito doesn't seem to have any other choice.

The pillow in front of me was wrinkled and slightly wet from where I had last kissed it. It felt beyond awkward to kiss a pillow and imagine it was your future partner. I couldn't imagine them walking in on me as my face was buried in a pillow while moaning out muffled noises. It would be far too embarrassing but, I've faced worse. Practice should continue or else my mouth will never come as even a fraction of pleasure to my love. I approach the pillow and lay, stomach down, on my bed again. While this has been an awkward situation, my insides are starting to feel like they're on fire! It's probably just the thought of Y/N floating around in my brain. I take a deep breath before cupping my hands at the corners of the pillow and diving my mouth towards the pillow once more. I start off with a short kiss but continuously start moving my lips against, what I imagine to be, their lips. I move my bottom lip more often than my top. Imagining I'm trapping their lips against mine. Just the thought of trapping them makes me grind my hips against the mattress a little. Even though I'm soft I still let out a little whimper. Does Y/N even like it when their partner makes noise? I wasn't able to find any information on what she likes in bed so...with my luck, I'll just leave it to chance. My kisses get more sloppy and desperate. I begin swiping and swirling my tongue against the pillow thinking about just what it might feel like to make out with them. Their hot, wet mouth pressing up against mine while our tongues rub against one another in an attempt to touch each other. I moan seemingly too loud at that thought and start humping the bed. Everything feels so hot.

Maybe combining kissing practice and "performance" practice would be a good idea.

Once he starts performance practice, his browser is constantly on sex related websites. But more on the education side...he wants to know how to make you feel good and how to make himself last longer. Once in a while, he does go on the hub though so he can pretend it's you and him having sex on the screen. He tries his best to look for ones where it sounds like you or looks like you. He prefers the ones where it sounds like you so that way he could just close his eyes and imagine you and him are together. 

Just a random bonus I thought I'd add in: He got a boner during class once and sat there for like ten minutes just waiting for it to go away. So he just ended up palming himself through his pants and struggled to not make any noise. He liked to imagine you were under the desk pressing your face against his clothed crotch and just rubbing your face around that area. Luckily, he came without letting a single noise slip past his lips. Unluckily, Nagito cums a lot. So everyone could see the enormous wet spot on the crotch of his pants when class was dismissed.

He happens to have a weird habit of doing domestic and soft things with a hint of creepy. For example, one of his favorite things to do as of recently is print out a picture that has your face in it, tape it to his pillow, and fall asleep cuddling it. This sounds fine if you two were dating but… you aren't. He'll give it kisses, cuddle with it, fall asleep with it, and, of course, it's what he uses during his performance practice. He also enjoys eating meals with it and watching movies while cuddling it too. He perceives it all as practice for when you two are wed.

I'm going to assume you aren't an oblivious idiot and just say that you probably began to notice how weird he'd get around you. You tried distancing yourself a little bit but enough to still stay friends. He noticed the change in how often you'd hang out with him and his anxiety skyrocketed. Nagito would feel he had only a couple choices left. And that was to kidnap you, get rid of any obstacles that didn't allow him to spend every waking moment with you, or just flat out kill you so that way no one could have you. He already knew he wouldn't be able to even breathe without you so he'd likely kill himself as well in the process.

Author's Note: I'll probably be discontinuing that one Nagito x reader chapter 2 because I wasn't able to finish it before the school year started and I was just dissatisfied with the chapters BUT! I do have plenty of headcanons on yandere Komaeda! Message me if you want some far more nsfw headcanons because I have a lot for this guy.  I'm also very open to crackfic oneshots.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 11

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Plot? What's that? I only know domestic fluff

She really didn’t know what to think when Tim asked to move in for a second time the next morning.

On the one hand, it felt like she was taking advantage of him. He’d seen her get shot and she doubted he’d really thought rationally since.

On the other hand… he essentially lived there already and it would do a lot to alleviate the anxiety the both of them had...

She rubbed her eyes -- ha, as if she hadn’t been awake the whole night to make sure he hadn’t had nightmares -- for an excuse to look away while she thought. What should she do? She would be lying if she said she didn’t want him to move in, she knew that was clouding her judgement, but even if she recognized her bias it wasn’t easy to just put it aside.

She sighed lightly and lowered a hand from her eyes. Tim looked really cute after having just woken up with his hair all messy and his eyes half lidded and one of his cheeks slightly flatter where he’d been resting his head against her and who can really say no to that face?

… well, Marinette supposed that would allow both of them to relax a little...

She let her hands drop to rest on top of his.

“Sure, darling. If you want you can move in… but, if you ever want to move out, I won’t stop you. Just ask.”

He cracked a tiny smile. “The only time I’d ever move out of this place is if you were changing apartments.”

She snickered. “Where I go, you go?”

“You have no idea,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You bats and your dumb cryptic sentences. Would it kill you guys to ever say a single thing directly?”

“Yes. I’m pretty sure that I would drop dead on the spot.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh yeah? Heart attack or sniper?”

“Can’t tell you. I would drop dead on the spot.”

“Damn. Foiled again by the… mystery cause of death!”

The smile on Tim’s face brightened and he looped his arms around her. “You’d save me.”

“Oh? And miss out on my chance to get that rich boy money you probably gave me in your will?”

He schooled his face back into a serious look. “I see. I’ll have to write you out of my will, then. Make sure you bring me back.”

“Nooooooooo! My scheme! Ruined! Now how will I become a millionaire without trying?!”

They looked at each other for a few seconds, his face purposefully smug and hers pinched into a frown…

And then they broke character, giggles falling from their lips and smiles lighting up their faces. She tipped her head forward until it rested against his chest. He squeezed her tighter.

Then, to her surprise, he flopped back on the couch, pulling her with him. “Alright, sleepy time,” he said cheerfully.

“Darling --.”

“You didn’t sleep last night. Sleep.”

She pressed against his chest until she could sit up just enough to glare at him. “I have super strength. May not be as strong as Connor or anything but I can definitely get away from you if I wanted.”

“Of course.” A smug look made its way across his face. “But you wouldn’t hurt your darling, would you?”

She glared harder despite the slight reddening of her cheeks. His smirk didn’t waver.

Marinette huffed and dropped back down. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

She didn’t respond to that, instead just grumbling ‘pillows don’t talk’ and letting herself finally nod off.

~

Having two perfectionists trying to figure out the layout of a limited living space might not have been their brightest idea. They should have, at least, gotten someone to help.

Instead they had brought out Marinette’s tape measure and mapped out the entire apartment on a sheet of paper and then made tiny shapes for the furniture. Now, they sat at the table, obsessively moving pieces around.

It could have been worse, of course. Neither of them were the type to hoard things. He wasn’t all that concerned with anything other than his clothes and his laptop. Marinette only cared about her clothes, video games, and baking tools -- all of which could be tucked away in the provided closets and cabinets with ease. If needed they could probably get by with nothing but a dresser and a pull out bed each.

So, yeah, their own personal living styles weren’t the problem…

It was their work. Who knew their workaholic tendencies would be their downfall (besides everyone, of course)? She needed a lot of space for her fabrics and mannequins to make sure nothing got damaged. Tim would need a lot of space for his supercomputer if he didn’t want to make the long trip to Bristol every night.

Speaking of the trip to Bristol! He needed a place to put his motorbike and his suit. Shit. He could find a place to park his bike if he tried, but… he started cutting out a piece for the suit.

Marinette saw him adding more stuff and her head hit the table.

He snickered a little and poked her hair until she, however reluctantly, picked her head back up to send him a halfhearted glare. He smiled, reaching over and plucking the tiny square of paper from where it had stuck itself to her forehead. A blush spread across her cheeks.

Then she happened to glance down and her annoyance was back in full force.

“We didn’t think this through,” she said.

His smile became more strained as he looked down at their map. “Moving sounds so easy on paper.”

“Maybe it’s easier for people who don’t have such complicated lives.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m quitting.”

“Aw, but then I’ll lose my patrol buddy! I’ll have to do everything with your siblings instead.”

His nose scrunched up. “God, no. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, you love your siblings.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know they’re the worst.”

She looked like she was going to argue, but then she tipped her head and nodded. “True.”

He snickered.

Their smiles disappeared quickly as they looked back at the layout of the apartment. Could they even fit all their stuff?

… wait, actually, could they?

He started shuffling things in and he realized that, if they wanted to have space to walk, there wasn’t enough room. No wonder they’d had so much trouble finding a layout that would work. It was literally impossible. They needed more space.

She hesitated slightly. “... what if we bought out the apartment next to this one for work? It could even double as a backup in case you ever decide you want to have a place of your own again.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Can we do that?”

“You’re rich, you could probably figure it out.”

He rolled his eyes. “I mean, yes, we can technically kick out the people next door but I’d kind of prefer if we didn’t displace random families.”

“I mean… we could always…” She made a stabbing motion.

He couldn’t laugh at that. Laughing at that would be bad. So he wouldn’t do that.

“Bean -- Mari -- no.”

“I’m just saying! We’d even get the apartment at a discount!”

Okay, he might have laughed a little.

… they didn’t end up stabbing anyone but, hey, if the family next door happened to get some huge scholarship courtesy of The Wayne Foundation that they didn’t remember applying for with the stipulation that they would have to move districts... then they just so happened to have a lucky break. Good for them.

Which meant that they only really needed to buy a desk, a dresser, and a bed.

So they went to Ikea! A boring place where no shenanigans ever happen!

… well, no shenanigans ever happen if you’re not a pair of vigilantes that bounce bad ideas off of each other like they were playing a particularly intense game of Don’t Let The Balloon Touch The Ground and the entire world would blow up if they dared to lose.

Speaking of things that touch the ground, the resident dumbasses should probably have kept their feet firmly planted on it.

Marinette squinted down the escalator. “Oh, they’re definitely going to kick us out.”

“Definitely,” he agreed.

“Maybe arrested.”

“Maybe that, too,” he said brightly, checking the pot over his head to make sure it wouldn’t come off.

“... the PR team is going to hate us,” she warned him.

“Absolutely.” He could feel the gaze on the back of his head, telling him that the employees had noticed them and, quite likely, knew what they were planning. “Ready?”

A grin spread across her face. “Of course.”

He smirked. “Good, because they’re coming.”

She glanced back at the employees making their way over to interfere.

“Threetwoonego!”

He pushed off with his foot, relishing in her indignant yelp, and grinned widely as he started the very bumpy ride that was snowboarding down an escalator. He’d thought he’d be more or less okay because he had been a skateboarder but it turns out that boarding down moving stairs is very different from boarding down flat planes. He let loose a string of curses as he struggled to hold the plank of wood to his feet and not die a very painful, very stupid death.

Marinette came whizzing past him, eyes wide and the tray she’d been using as a board somehow missing.

She met his eyes briefly and flashed a grin.

And then they crashed.

It was about as painful as one would expect. Tim was glad that he’d thought to give himself a pot-helmet-thing because it had cracked down the middle and he didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t done that.

And he was the lucky one. He got out with a few bruises and a better appreciation for his own life. Marinette was nursing an arm that looked like it was trying to imitate the escalator they had just slid down, lips pressed together tightly as tears threatened to escape.

He carefully crawled over to check for any other injuries that might have been less noticeable.

She grinned up at him, either because he was currently checking to see if her teeth were all in place or to be smug. What she could currently be smug about, though, he had no clue…

“You’re so stupid,” he told her, just in case she wasn’t already aware.

Her smug grin remained even after he had removed the finger from her mouth. “You’re just mad that I won.”

“... sorry?” He hadn’t even been thinking about their impromptu race, too concentrated on the whole ‘making sure they hadn’t just died’ thing, and it took a moment for his brain to catch up. Then he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, won a pretty new cast, maybe.”

She snickered. “You had to cheat and you still didn’t even win. How does it feel to suck?”

“Probably still better than it feels to have a broken arm.”

She sat up. “It’s fine, I’ll live.”

He snorted. “You bet you will. I’m going to bubble wrap the whole apartment.”

“You can’t babyproof the place! We don’t even have kids yet!”

Before he could question her use of the word ‘yet’, the employees managed to get their attention. They were trying to get down the currently very broken escalator and the one that was currently going the wrong way for them. Despite this, the two of them had only a minute max before they reached them.

Marinette and Tim locked eyes.

“Run?” She suggested.

He was already getting to his feet. He dropped a business card for the employees and turned to her.

He grabbed her good hand and they sprinted out of the store, smiles lighting up their faces and laughter spilling from their lips. The poor employees hadn’t stood a chance of catching the two vigilantes, even injured as they were. They knew the city like the back of their hands and were able to weave in and out of side streets and alleyways without much thought.

Once they were sure that no one was following them -- leaving a store unattended in Gotham was a terrible idea and Tim had left a card for them to call -- she tugged him to hide between two buildings.

They squeezed into the tiny space and leaned into each other for support while they struggled to catch their breath. Her good hand came up to grip his shirt. He rested his forehead against the wall above her.

She lifted her gaze to his and he wished she hadn’t because he’d already been out of breath enough before she’d done that but now here was staring into her blue eyes, the corners crinkled in a way that had become so familiar to him over the past few months, and god… all he could think about was all the stories that described how time stopped when you fell in love… and how those stories couldn’t be more wrong. He would have hated for that to happen because if time stopped then he would have to see that perfect smile of hers in anything but real time and he doubted that it would have looked nearly as beautiful without the way her shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter or the slight fluttering of her lashes or the steady pinkening of her cheeks.

She finally gave a little puff of laughter. “What?”

He blinked once, trying to bring himself back to what was going on. “Oh, I was just thinking…”

“Oh? Don’t strain yourself.”

He smiled. “I was just going to say something nice but instead I’ll insult you on your stealth. You’d be a terrible criminal, laughing during your getaway.”

She rolled her eyes. “You laughed, too.”

“Yeah, but when I did it it was super cool and professional.”

“Ah, I see. How could I not have noticed it before?”

He snickered. “Well, if today has proved anything, it’s that you are not, in fact, the world’s greatest detective.”

She grinned. “You were the one that put the pot on my head originally.”

“You came up with the idea to go down the escalators like that.”

“You agreed.”

“You -- I -- shut up,” he complained, sending her a glare.

She smiled at him until he pretty much had no choice but to smile back, letting his head fall the last few inches to press his forehead against hers.

Her hand gripped his shirt a little tighter.

He moved his hands from the wall to her waist.

They stood there, letting time pass them by, searching each other's eyes for some sort of answer to the question neither of them could bring themselves to ask aloud. He bit his lip, trying to swallow down his anxiety.

Her eyes flicked to his lips, her own parted as if to say something, before she seemed to think better of it.

She closed the gap. His heart skipped a beat at the feather-soft feeling of her lips against his and he let his eyes flutter shut. She teased his lip out from between his teeth with her own.

And then she pulled back just slightly.

He opened his eyes just enough to see her shy smile and the blush lighting up her face.

“You… you really have to stop doing that. They’ll get chapped --.”

He pressed forward again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was far more desperate than the last. She gasped quietly and he took the chance to slip his tongue into her mouth. The hand fisted in his shirt slid up to wrap around the back of his neck, dragging him even closer. He pressed her back against the wall, a hand trailing up to tangle itself in her hair, trying to reach more --.

She brought her bad arm up to cradle his face and then yelped in pain.

He jumped back. Right. Broken arm. Looks like a staircase. Not good.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh… let’s get you treated.”

~

Marinette ended up with a pink cast and an order to stay home for at least a week.

She pouted, resting her head back against the couch as she watched him shuffle around in search of his second shoe (it was tucked behind her back, but he didn’t need to know that). “I’m not a child, you guys can’t just ground me,” she complained for what felt like the millionth time.

Tim rolled his eyes. “We all have to do it when we break bones unless it’s an all hands on deck situation. Been like that since even before I was Robin.”

“But B goes out with broken bones all the time!”

“That’s different.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“It is. If there is a situation where B can be a hypocrite he will do it”

Marinette scoffed. “And you’re allowed out because…?”

He started counting off on his fingers. “None of my bones are broken, my job requires me to leave, I don’t get in trouble 9/10 times I leave the house… should I go on?”

“Last one is a lie,” she mumbled.

“No, I only get in trouble, like, 8/10 times I leave.”

It was hard to maintain her glare. She settled for sticking her tongue out at him like the mature adult she was. He returned it, despite the fact that he was also an adult according to the law.

He grinned and came to sit next to her on the couch. She shifted around until she was leaning against him instead of the couch, legs tangling with his.

He didn’t say anything about the blatant attempt at trapping him there with her. Instead, he leaned closer to her face and said: “Speaking of leaving, do you happen to know where my other shoe is?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why do I get the feeling that you already know where it is?”

He snickered. “I know you, Bean. So, can I have it back?”

“Hm… I don’t know…” she said, twirling his tie around her hand.

He let her pull him down for a kiss. She giggled against his lips as his hands ghosted over her in search of the missing shoe. She kept her good hand at his collar as a kind of silent promise that she wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- move the shoe, even throwing her bad arm around his neck just in case.

He pulled away a few moments later, squinting at her suspiciously. “I’m beginning to suspect I’ve been tricked.”

Her eyes widened in mock innocence. “Me? Trick you? I could never.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, where is it?”

She glanced at the time and smirked. “I guess you’ve earned it…” She pulled her foot out from between the couch cushions to show him the shoe she had hastily slipped on when he’d gotten close.

He scoffed lightly and slipped it off. “Y’know, if I had literally one of the most common fetishes in the world that wouldn’t have worked.”

“But you don’t, so it did,” she chirped with a cheeky grin.

“Guess that’s true…” He pecked her lips one last time before pulling his shoe on and she grinned as she watched him head to the door.

Only to stop a little short because of a knock.

He raised his eyebrows and glanced back. “Are one of my siblings coming over?”

She pressed her lips together thinly to keep herself from laughing. “It’s not any of their normal times. I just figured that, if I had to be home alone all day and couldn’t really do any work because my stupid cast, I should at least keep busy while you were gone.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He stepped forward and opened the door to reveal a delivery guy with three giant boxes. The furniture they had ordered from Ikea had arrived.

He signed for them and then turned to glare at her. “You planned all this so I couldn’t go.”

“I mean… you could always leave me here to do them myself.” She batted her eyelashes at him innocently. “Of course, my broken arm will make it a little difficult but I’m sure I’ll manage.”

She had been stared down by Batman in full kevlar, she could handle the glare Tim gave her in his slightly messy work suit.

Then, he sighed. “Do you have a backup plan?”

“Obviously. Don’t think you’ll like that one as much.”

He scowled. “You’re really this determined to not be home alone?”

“Oh, no, this is about getting B to allow me out. Trapping you and your siblings here is just a means to that end.”

“You’re going to be trapping my siblings here, too?”

She grinned. “Yep. They show up all the time, might as well use that.”

His shoulders slumped a little.

She giggled. “If I have to stay inside all the time then so do you guys. It’s the rules.”

And, so, she reached for him until he pressed a short kiss to her lips.

Then, they got to work. Or, rather, he did. She had been relegated to just sitting nearby and helping him figure out how to build it.

She took a few pictures for their public accounts as necessary: a picture of him with three screws poking out of his mouth while he tried to figure out the weird L-shaped tool he’d been given, a picture of the two of them staring at the instruction sheet with confused frowns on their faces (taken by Tikki), Vanelope enjoying the boxes the stuff had come in, what was definitely not a thirst pic of Tim, and then the finished furniture in the apartment.

It was there, right before she was about to post it, that she realized that she hadn’t actually publicly followed any of the Waynes. She squinted at her bio, which proclaimed that she would only follow people she genuinely liked, and then at the ten people she had followed. The internet would notice if she suddenly followed eight more people.

“Darling?”

He peeked an eye open from where he was relaxing on the couch and then raised an arm for her. She took his hand and smiled a little when he pulled her into his lap so he could hug her like a pillow.

Then she pulled a more serious look to her face. “Do you want to go public or not?”

He buried his face in her neck. “Sure.”

“... not even gonna think about it?”

He shrugged. “They’re going to suspect it no matter what. Especially since we were goofing around in an Ikea of all places and you’re uploading pictures of me helping you with furniture.”

She nodded slightly. “I know, but I don’t have to upload them.”

There was a long silence as they considered their options.

Eventually he just sighed and tightened his grip on her. “I’ll go with anything you want to do, Bean.”

She relaxed slowly and, hesitantly, she sent him the photos. “Here, you can upload them, too. Might as well make it public on both of our accounts.”

He picked his head up slightly to check out the pictures. She felt his lips curl into a smile against her shoulder at the picture of Vanelope. “This one is nice.”

She snickered. “All cats are cute, obviously it would make a nice picture.”

He hummed his agreement. “No offense to you, you’re cute and all, but the cat definitely wins the cutest here.”

“I’m not offended at all. We could never beat that.”

Then, she got an idea.

“Except… maybe… want a picture of us kissing for the reveal?”

“I’ll take any excuse,” he said with a wink.

She rolled her eyes even as she felt her face warm. “You don’t need an excuse to kiss me, dumbass.”

Now it was his turn to blush. Yay, revenge.

… also, it would be cute for the picture if they were both a little red for it.

She twisted in his lap to press a kiss to his lips. His hands came up to cradle her face. She threw her bad arm around his neck, fingers threaded in his hair.

Her camera clicked. They ignored it.

[fubukiswifenoimnotjoking]

One Punch Man ship reviews bc I’m bored

WARNING: BIG ONE PUNCH MAN WEBCOMIC AND MANGA SPOILERS

GenoSai: do I even have to say it?? They compliment each other so well and are already besties. They make me so happy and I love their love. Genos literally came into Saitama’s life and brought so much new life and excitement when Saitama thought he’d never get any. Genos gives him love and appreciation all the time and never abandons him. Saitama isn’t connected to his feelings, but he cares about Genos and would do just about anything for him, to keep him safe. Genos constantly teases Saitama and Saitama grumbles and takes it with some banter, Genos is super emotional and Saitama does his best to comfort him, they fucking love shopping together and just hanging out period, they talk about the dumbest shit and somehow they still understand each other with the one brain cell they both share. It takes Genos forever to realize his feelings are deeper and Saitama has to be TOLD by their friends that he should fucking realize his feelings already. Just...I could keep going but I’ll stop! 2718873737839439/10 (let’s not talk about the age gap btw, 6 years isn’t bad and Genos is a legal adult.)

FubuSai: the stereotypical straight ship ppl gravitate to. Eh. I can see it, but at the same time I feel like they don’t completely compliment each other. Are they a hot couple? Duh. But I feel like their pride and communication issues would get in the way. 4/10

TatsuSai: hnghhhh. Someone mentioned this before, can’t remember who, but Saitama literally thinks she’s a child in canon. So that just....makes it gross. Same problems as FubuSai but worse. I’d rather see them as hesitant friends w a weird bond. 0/10

SonSai/SonicSai/idk the ship name: eh, toxic. Cant see them getting past communication issues and pride, again. Plus Sonic wants to kill his ass. Also, I just feel no romantic tension?? Even in fanfic it just falls flat for me. 3/10

MumenSai: a favorite!! Wish I saw it more, it’s very cute. Mumen is so kind and would absolutely be there to help him w self esteem and just help him be a better person period. And Saitama would have a cute little kind guy to tease and open up to. I could maybe see Mumen’s kindness getting on Saitama’s nerves when he’s in a bad mood bc Mumen almost never snaps and Saitama feels shittier, or maybe Mumen being mad at Saitama for being kinda lazy at home while Mumen is working his ass off and he’s like babe I just got home, please stop playing the fucking game and pay attention to me I have a concussion again. Prob too nitpicky on this one, heh, but 8.4/10

Genos x Sonic: wtf? As a crack ship, sure. That’s hilarious. But as a serious ship, 1.3/10 bc I could MAYBE see them bond over their love of my chemical romance or sum.

Anyone x Puri: -128382839287473828739219833468282/10. Fuck Puri.

TatsuKing: eh. Indifferent on this one too. I can see them getting along and Tatsu being the mean but supportive gf in public, but a sweet gf in private. King could be like her calm oasis of video games and sweet blonde shy bf. I sway more towards ace/aro King and queer non binary Tatsu, but this is still good. 6/10

FubuPsy/Fubuki x Psykos/idk: hell yeah!! This series NEEDS more wlw ships, both for me to project onto and to cry over. Prob my fav Fubuki ship, cuz they’ve known each other since they were young and had a tenuous friendship. I didn’t use to ship it until I saw that scene in the wc after the MA arc (u know the one) but here we are. They’re big personalities so any interaction is bound to be chaotic at first, but I really think they’d work. Pride put to the side, Psykos could be someone for Fubuki to finally rely on other than the Blizzard Bunch, someone to confide in, a badass partner to fight monsters with, talk about nothing for hours with, be a super fashionable #girlboss couple with, and someone who would really see her for who she is-especially w Psykos knowledge of her from the past. Hell, Psykos might even know her better than Tatsumaki. Fubuki could be an anchor to her like she currently is in the wc, providing a quiet comfort and making her open up little by little. Would prob be toxic at first bc of the MA arc and their desire for power, but is a very good ship I think. 9/10

Speedal/Sonic x Mumen: an old fav! Sonic would have a hard time not hating Mumen at first bc he’s the picture definition of a hero, sum he hates. But hanging out with him would show him Mumen is a GOOD guy genuinely and he’d be like ohhhh shit I’m in love w this man. Mumen would thoroughly appreciate someone to make him live a little, break some rules and stand up to ppl when they talk over him. He’d DEFINITELY be upset when finding out Sonic is an assassin, but would prob be conflicted bc he knows Sonic is a good person despite that. Would prob make Sonic give up on killing for them to be together. Sucks bc of the assassin thing and bc they haven’t met in canon! So we’re not sure how they’d interact with each other, sigh. 7.4/10

Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: a very underrated ship! To be clear, I headcanon Kama as a trans woman and so does most of the fandom. Anyway, very sweet and already built as a friendship bc of their partnership under Atomic Samurai. I can’t remember who writes fic and makes art of them on tumblr but AAAAA it’s so good! Very sweet. Basically depicted Bushi as a nervous himbo who’s honest about his feelings but scared to say them and Kama as a sweet lady who’s crazy about Bushi. Very sweet. Want more of them!! 6.1/10

OneZon/Zombieman x One Shotter: never even thought of the ship till I saw @megidolan art work! Very wholesome, and from what little we know of Shotter we know he’s a sort of nervous yet strong willed guy, and Zombieman would totally help him calm down bc he’s so chill. I could see them sharing cigarettes and talking shit on heroes while cuddling u know? 7/10 only because I don’t see enough of it but very good concept.

Mumarou/Mumen x Garou: a lot of ppl are gonna hate me for this but....I don’t like it. I’ve tried! I just—idk. I’ve read so many good fics about them that make me like it a bit, but the concept is just eh. I think their relationship is, in most reps, really cliche angsty stuff. I wish I could elaborate I just...gah! Basically, there’s better ships for the both of them imo. Sorry!! 4.3/10

Sonic x Flashy/SonFlash: yes!! Prob my fav Sonic ship. They have soooo much tension, it’s almost worse than Genos’ tension w Saitama. Flashy LITERALLY poisoned Sonic so that he wouldn’t be forced to kill him at the ninja graduation. He cares. They’ll never say it out loud, but they care. They have someone who understands what they went through in each other and someone they’re both so similar to, yet so different from. Sonic is more vocal about his expressions and let’s people know it while Flashy often keeps things to himself, they could really influence the other to be more this or that. I could see a lot of comfort with these two, and not much is needed for relationship development; they already have so much unspoken between them after meeting for the first time in years. Love it. Wish I saw it more! 10/11

KingSai: wonderful! Out of the few ppl Saitama is close to, def my second fav pick for a ship for him. There’s a post saying how Saitama doesn’t cut King off when he’s going on rants about games and stuff bc he’s talking TO Saitama, not at him like Genos tends to do on accident. They’re already great buddies! Saitama could find a shy gamer man who he can talk to about manga and stuff and also a passionate bf who could break out of his shell w Saitama and be himself with no lies. King can have someone to protect him, duh, someone who finally understands his weird sense of humor, and someone to shower him in the love and kindness he deserves when Saitama is in the mood to be all out like that w his affections. Plus he’s Saitama’s anchor and brings him back down when he’s super anxious and depressed and tells him what’s up that he needs to fix without sugarcoating it. Would def have a bunch of inside jokes and go on dates that are just staying inside playing video games all night. Domestic af. 10/10

Fubuki x Mizuki: my first wlw Fubuki ship! Hard to find but very good. Mizuki is this big ball of kindness, energy, and raw power that would make Fubuki go ‘Ohhhhhhh, big pretty lady make brain go brrr.’ I could see Mizuki grounding Fubuki when she’s in over her head, giving her random gifts bc she saw sum and thought of her, doing a marathon run and wildly waving at Fubuki in the crowd, and all around being a dependable woman confident in herself and in love with a mysterious esper. Prob a little shy when it comes to anything physical bc she loves Fubuki so much and is overwhelmed by the realness of being w her. Fubuki gives Mizuki advice on ‘acting like a proper hero’ or whatever and though Mizuki thinks she doesn’t need it, Fubuki still helps her a lot w her career and being taken more seriously by others. Would give Mizuki someone who loves her for who she is and would go wild on her in private when she can be open about her affection, would be someone Mizuki could exercise with and listen intently to Mizuki’s physical knowledge, and would absolutely bandage her when she’s all banged up. Hnghh love this ship. It’s only behind the FubuPsy ship juuuuust a little bc they haven’t met in canon so we can’t be sure about their interactions and stuff. 8.8/10, I love WOMEN

Batarou: how could I go this far without mentioning them?! They have SOOOO much tension in the centichoro fight, like come on. Both snarky assholes who are huge softies one the inside, Badd being the more logical one (still a himbo, tho) and Garou being the more chaotic one. Probably take forever to admit their feelings bc they’re so prideful and stupid <3 flirt through constant wrestling matches and it takes Genos saying ‘they should kiss already, they’re getting on his nerves’ for them to finally realize what’s up. (@rayadraws has a great au where Garou Genos and Badd are a chaotic friend squad and Genos is the only brain of the group, haha. Very good au y’all check it out!) Would constantly pick on each other affectionately and switch into concerned SO when the other is hurt like the big teddy bears they are. Raise Zenko together for sure. Garou would fumble being romantic and Badd would find it both hilarious and cute. 11/12

Zombie mask/Amai x Zombieman:

So. I don’t like Amai Mask and I used to hate him, BUT the webcomic and fic have really helped me calm down on him (he’s still a dick tho), so it’s easier to want to ship him and stuff. Bc of Amai’s anger issues and controlling behavior, I could see this relationship being super toxic and icky—but I think they have some form of understanding that pulls Amai back from being a complete dick, you know? Start off as fuck buddies and slowly form something else from spending companionable time together other than screwing. Zombieman pulls Amai back from his angry fits and soothes him over with his logic. Talk maaaaaad shit about heroes, but only when they’re alone because Zombieman knows Amai will talk loud af about the heroes they’re roasting and Zombie doesn’t wanna stop a fight from happening. Zombieman loves making Amai flustered and has a secret check list in his head of all the things that get Amai red faced. Loves to listen to Amai rant about things for hours and loves to watch his face go through almost cartoon like expressions as he talks. He won’t admit it, but Zombie loves to be spoiled by Amai’s shit tons of cash and often takes rides in Amai’s limos when he wants to smoke and think to himself. Amai has a hard time realizing how his feelings have changed, but gets hit hard with it when he wakes up to Zombie making them breakfast one morning while wearing Amai’s underwear. Amai also loves to spoil Zombie and takes him out to restaurants and buys him cool new weapons on the weekends. @batneko has pretty much gotten me into this ship and I strongly suggest looking at their works! 7.9/10

DemonKnight/Genos x Zero/Drive Knight: I’m pretty sure this used to be a crack ship before the past like 10 manga chapters—and now here we are! Not a fav bc 1. ZERO LEFT GENOS TO SELF DESTRUCT AFTER THEY COMBINED TO FORM THE FUCKING JET HE WAS JUST LIKE lol bye SO LIKE if he left him to die that’s super hard for me to forgive and ship grrr 2. Disregarding the manga’s canon and looking at the wc, while I love the little trip they went on where Zero demonstrated his abilities and helped Genos kill monsters, it’s super sus. He knew alllll of this info on Metal Knight and was super supportive and understanding when Genos said he needed time to think. Like,,,what are his intentions? We know so little about him—is he trying to trick Genos or was he being sincere? THAT STUFF ASIDE, they’re a really fun ship. They’re both huge fucking nerds and can keep up with their talk on robotics for hours, they’re both cyborgs so they understand each other’s pain, and they’re both super cool and angsty. I think they could really settle into a deep bond that can go platonic or romantic, just depends. Genos needs more ppl in his life so hell yeah! Plus, he can really let go with Zero bc they don’t have that teacher/student relationship and Zero, if he’s really a sincere and kind guy like in the wc, can be there for Genos and listen to him. Don’t have much to say on this ship other than @wellthisisembarrassing makes GORGEOUS art of them! 6.3/10

Webuiko/Suiko x Webigaza: YEAH I KNOW THEY HAVENT INTERACTED IN CANON AND WE DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT THEM BUT HEAR ME OUT. Webigaza—cool af determined cyborg idol who’s surprisingly down to earth when talking with Child Emperor. Suiko—sassy and honest fighter who doesn’t take shit and is very passionate. Suiko would go to talk to Web then immediately freak out bc aaaa she’s way prettier than she thought, she can’t do this! Web would have to gently encourage Suiko to talk and at first is like ‘ah man, must be an adoring fan, ugh I’m so tired. At least she’s hot’ but when Suiko snaps out of her shyness Web is like oh! She’s super cool wtf. Always bump into each other during fights and help each other get fixed up, Suiko using her muscle power to lift Web’s pieces (and give Web a great view of Suiko’s muscles holy SHIT) and Web would patch Suiko up. Not to be stereotypical, but they’re def a masc/femme couple. I love the idea of this ship soooo much and I really hope they interact! 6.6/10 only bc they haven’t met 😭😭😭 look them up on here! There’s some great art of them by a few blogs

Dr. Kuseno x Bang: pretty sure @baldyborg came up with this one! Super cute. Just two old dudes finding a nice friendship in each other, maybe after Bang helps carry Genos to Kuseno’s after a day of fighting. Bang would find Kuseno to be a very cute little nerd man and would be sooo impressed by Kuseno’s mad scientist skills. Kuseno would be super impressed when seeing Bang in action too. They’d prob talk as soon as they meet each other and Genos would be in the background like you guys it’s been an hour, please fix me I’m on the verge of death 🧍🏻Bang would give Kuseno advice on training techniques to teach Genos and advice on making his bodies more martial arts ready or sum, meanwhile Kuseno would give his take on how to be kinder to Garou so that Bang would learn to repair the relationship with a gentleness he’s seemingly lacking (yes I’m talking about the chapter where he and Garou start fighting and Bang is just not doing enough to reach out to Garou, he’s being a callous old man! So yeah I’m still mad about that). Genos and Saitama would prob be out on a date and Saitama would be like oh theres Bang, wonder what he’s doing? Then Kuseno would walk up and kiss Bang and Genos and Sai would be shocked like SIRS 👬 Genos would tell Bang he doesn’t need another adoptive dad and Bang would be like....ok.... I see them retiring in a cottage together and Bang would become a huge softie. Yes I’m actively ignoring chapter 141 of the wc, shut up. 7.6/10

TankTop master x Mumen: they have a nice friendship going on in the manga right now! Just bros supporting bros. Tank is the picture definition of a muscly himbo and Mumen is his cute passionate bf. Also workout buddies af!! Don’t have much to say other than pretty good ship, just not a fav. 5.2/10

To sum it up—

GenoSai: 2718873737839439/10, Batarou: 11/12, SonFlash: 10/11, KingSai: 10/10, FubuPsy: 9/10, Fubuki x Mizuki: 8.8/10, MumenSai: 8.4/10, ZombieMask: 7.9/10, Dr. Kuseno x Bang: 7.6/10, Speedal: 7.4/10, OneZon: 7/10, Webuiko: 6.6/10, DemonKnight: 6.3/10, Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: 6.1/10, TatsuKing: 6/10, TankTop Master x Mumen: 5.2/10, Mumarou: 4.3/10, FubuSai: 4/10, SonSai: 3/10, Genos x Sonic: 1.3/10, TatsuSai: 0/10, anyone x Puri: -1283828319833468282/10

If there’s any ships I left out, it’s bc I don’t know them, don’t wanna talk about them, or just don’t have an opinion strong enough. Also, I know there are some poly ships like Genos x Saitama x Fubuki, but I’ve read only one fic about that (it was pretty good, here’s the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406992 ) so I don’t feel like talking about it. Hope no ones offended! All my opinion here :)

[24hlevi]

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Mikasa Ackermann (Attack On Titan) X Gn!Reader

Genre: Angst, Slight Fluff

Warnings: Language, Talk about Domestic Abuse/Flashback

Summary: After a heated argument, Mikasa ends up hitting Y/n, resulting in them remembering their last relationship that led them to trauma.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: italics mean flashback, so i know i said there would be no forms of abuse on this blog but since it’s not an actual abusive relationship it’s alright, also i would like to say that if the reader has previous relationships that dealt with abuse i will write it but not if it’s a current relationship

To put it simply, you had been through quite a bit of hell in your past. Which had resulted in you having some very traumatic experiences, and led to your trauma to continue growing. When you broke up with your ex, your friends were so happy that you had gotten out of that terrible toxic relationship, but to you it felt like your world broke down. Yes, you knew what your ex did and was doing to you was utterly awful with the amount of hits you would receive, both physically and mentally, but you were still in love with them. It took years until you two broke up, and for years you were stuck in an endless pit of darkness, never being able to escape unless something bad went down and you would be able to slowly crawl out only to fall back down and land right back at square one. 

Then you met Mikasa.

Sure, you had heard about her while you were in the 104th cadet corps. But you hadn’t actually met her nor talked to her once. Mostly because you preferred to stay with your friend group and didn’t like talking to new people. But obviously, your best friend Sasha convinced you to let her introduce you to Mikasa. 

You were confused as to why Sasha offered to help you make new friends, but you let her do it anyway. 

So you met Mikasa while at dinner, sitting next to Sasha, Jean, and Connie while Mikasa, Eren, and Armin were sitting in front of you three. Eren and Jean were glaring at each other, quietly bickering with one another while Armin was trying to convince them to stop but it didn’t work, like always. Sasha and Connie were talking to Mikasa while you spoke every once in a while, hardly eating because you were too busy staring at the extremely beautiful girl in front of you. 

When you were taking a bite of the piece of bread in your hands, still staring at Mikasa, the raven-haired girl looked at you and your eyes widened, realizing you had just been caught staring. You were about to speak when Connie slung one of his arms around your shoulders, “Well would ya look at this, Y/n was caught staring!” 

A crimson red blush covered your cheeks as you elbowed the male in the stomach. “Ow! That fucking hurt, man!” Connie exclaimed, leaning over and putting his head on the table. 

“Y/n, don’t be mean.” Sasha told you with a frown, “You know he’s telling the truth.” She added after, continuing to eat. 

You glared at your friend before looking at Jean, who was still busy arguing with Eren, “Jean! Help me out here, please!” You told him.

“Huh?” Jean turned his head, looking over at you. “What do you need help with?” 

“Y/n was caught staring at Mikasa.” Sasha and Connie said at the same time. 

“You little mothetfu-“ “OH I see, well that’s no surprise.” Jean cut you off before looking at Mikasa, “You see, Y/n doesn’t know how to act around pretty people so they just stare. You’ll get used to it.” 

All you felt was embarrassment as you covered your face with your hands as you mumbled to yourself. “I’m going to kill all three of you.” 

After that very embarrassing way of a first meeting, you still didn’t talk much whenever you were around anyone else except your three friends, but you were slowly opening up more. Well, attempting to at least.

Some may have said that it seemed like you weren’t trying hard enough to get past the trauma that your past relationship had given you, but you knew you were trying your best. 

And for some reason, that was one thing that had drawn Mikasa towards you. 

When the girl walks up to you and Sasha, you both look at her with very different expressions. While Sasha’s was excitement, yours was confusion and before you knew it, Sasha grabbed your hand and looked back at you with a wide smile, leaning towards your ear and whispering, “If you screw this up, you have to deal with Connie, Jean, and I teasing you for the rest of your life.” 

When she pulled away and continued to smile, all you did was look at her with confusion. Sasha patted your head and said bye to Mikasa and you before leaving you two by yourselves. 

You looked over at the girl standing next to you and decided to speak up after a few moments of awkward silence, “So, did you need to talk to me about something?” 

Mikasa looked up from the ground and at you before nodding, “Yes. I was just wondering if you would, uhm, want to be friends, I guess.” 

One of your eyebrows cocked up at her words, not expecting that to be what she wanted to talk about. “Oh. Yeah, sure.” You shrugged, trying to seem like you didn’t care that much when on the inside you were freaking out and you didn’t even know why. 

When you glanced down at her you could see a small smile on her lips, and you knew from that moment that you wanted to see her smile more. Even if it was small, it was enough to show that she was happy. 

Little did you know that smile was going to be one you would fall in love with, as well as the Ackermann herself. 

You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you became friends with the raven-haired girl, but you were definitely in for one hell of a ride.

The more that you two began to talk, the more you realized that maybe making friends wasn’t that hard as it had been when you were with your ex. 

And soon enough,

you fell in love with the girl. 

“You WHAT?!” Your three best friends stared at you with wide eyes. 

“I think I’m in love with her.” You repeated quietly so only they could hear. “Help me out please.” 

“How do you only think it? You have to know it, first.” Jean responded. “Then, we can help.” 

Sasha and Connie nodded in agreement before Sasha spoke up, “Yeah, you can’t just think it, you have to know for sure.”

 “Yeah, what they said.” Connie replied.

“Okay but how do I know? I don’t know how this shit works, you guys.” You sighed

The three went quiet at your question as they all looked at each other as if they were communicating through their thoughts. Jean looked back at you and told you, “Well uh, you’ll just, know? I guess?”

“None of you have any clue do you?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at them. 

“Nope.” All three replied while shaking their heads. 

“Great.” You groaned.

“I do have an idea on how you could tell her, though.” Jean said to you with a small smirk on his face. 

You looked back at him with confusion before noticing the smirk on his face, “Oh no, don’t do that smirk, Jean. I know what it means.”

“Awe come on! You should trust me, Y/n! I am your best friend after all.” The taller male wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“I’m their best friend!” Sasha and Connie exclaimed, both of them going up to you and grabbing onto you. 

“We’ll help you, Y/n. Don’t you worry!” Connie smiled widely at you. 

“And we promise we won’t ruin it!” Sasha added with a smile just as wide. 

You let out a short sigh and nodded, “Alright.”

That was a terrible decision that you chose. You should have known that somehow your best friends would screw it up because they were too excited about you talking to your crush. Yet it turned out not so bad.

“Okay, here’s the plan one more time.” Jean spoke to you, Sasha, and Connie. “Y/n will find Mikasa and ask her to come outside of the HQ to talk to her. Connie, Sasha, and I will be around the corner so we can hear everything but so we can’t be seen by Y/n or Mikasa. Do you remember what you’re going to say, Y/n?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, giving him a thumbs up.

“Great.” Jean smiled. “Now, let’s get Y/n a girlfriend.” 

It was only a few minutes later when Connie, Jean, and Sasha went outside and left you alone to find Mikasa. “Alright. Let’s do this, I guess.” You mumbled to yourself before starting to walk around. 

You eventually found Mikasa with Armin and as you walked towards them you took a deep breath before stopping in front of them. “Hey guys.”

Both of them turned their heads and looked at you, small smiles appearing on their faces. “Hey, Y/n.” Armin said to you.

You smiled back and looked at Mikasa, “Can I talk to you outside?” 

Mikasa’s expression turned to confusion but she nodded. She looked back at Armin, “I’ll see you later, Armin.” 

Armin nodded his head and smiled at you both before walking away.

“Let’s go.” You said to the girl and you began to walk the way you came that would lead to outside the HQ. 

Mikasa followed you, walking beside you as she may have been glancing over at you from time to time, trying not to make it seem obvious that she was staring at you.

When you walked outside and felt the cool winter breeze hit you, you buttoned up your jacket as you continued to walk until you were in the position Jean told you to be at.

Upon you stopping, Mikasa looked at you, “So, what did you want to talk about?” 

You glanced down at her and tried to remember everything that your friends told you to say, but as soon as you looked at the girl in front of you it all washed away like rain hitting chalk on the sidewalk. “Uh, well, it’s kinda hard to explain.” You forced out a chuckle that sounded completely fake. 

Mikasa had a confused look on her face in response to your words, before she replied shortly with, “Explain it slowly, then.”

“That might make it worse, but okay.” You looked back at her and took a deep breath before speaking again. “So, I know we’ve known each other for quite some time now, and you have quickly become one of my closest friends. Now, what I’m about to say could ruin all of this but at this point I don’t care because I can’t not tell you. From the moment I met you, I thought you weren’t going to be important to me because I only talked to my friends, but I was wrong. Like, really wrong. So, uhm, basically I uh.” You paused for a moment, looking away from her as a hot blush crept up on your cheeks. “I’m in love with you, Mikasa.” 

“Oh my god they said it.” Connie whispered as he stood behind the corner of the wall beside Jean and Sasha. 

“Not the way we planned, though.” Jean whispered back. “This could go good or bad, now.” 

“Shhh, I’m trying to hear.” Sasha shushed them and peeked her head around the corner, her eyes widening when you saw her and she ducked back behind the wall. “You should see Y/n’s face! They’re blushing so much!” She whisper-yelled to the other boys. 

You glared at Sasha who you saw peek around the corner before glancing back at Mikasa who was staring at you, not saying anything. You could feel your anxiety levels rise higher than before as you looked at her, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

You turned on your heel, about to start walking away when Mikasa grabbed your hand, making you stop and look back at her. You quickly noticed the blush on her face when she looked at you and the smile she had before she spoke quietly, “I think I’m in love with you, too.” 

Your anxiety washed away immediately after she said that and you smiled widely at her. You reached your free hand forward and carefully moved a strand of her hair out of her face which resulted in a deeper red showing up on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you?” You asked. 

The girl in front of you nodded slowly, resulting in you giving her a small smile before leaning closer to her. You placed your lips against hers gently, kissing her softly as you felt her relax into your touch before she kissed back. 

“They’re kissing!” Sasha whispered to the two boys whose eyes widened upon hearing her words. 

“Let me see!” Connie peeked his head around the corner and a wide smile fell on his face. “Holy shit they did!”

Jean looked around the corner as well and he smiled, “See, I knew it would go well.”

“What the hell are you brats doing?” Levi stopped behind the trio, looking at them with his arms crossed over his chest. 

The three all screamed out of shock and fell onto the ground, making it so that they would easily be seen by you and Mikasa. 

You and Mikasa pulled away from the kiss when you both heard the screams and as you turned your heads you saw your three best friends on the ground laying next to each other, with Levi standing behind them. “I fucking knew it.” You mumbled under your breath. 

The three friends just smiled at you and Mikasa innocently, acting as if they weren’t listening the whole time but you could tell that Mikasa already knew. 

After that, the plan had succeeded and you had gotten the Ackermann to become your girlfriend. You didn’t exactly know how actual loving relationships were supposed to work, and neither did Mikasa, but it didn’t matter. Why? Because even though neither of you knew how to work an actual healthy relationship, you figured it out in different ways along the way. 

And even though Mikasa wasn’t a woman of many words, she showed her love to you by often giving you gifts shyly, or just by simply spending time with you no matter what you two did. 

You actually felt like you were in love, not just with someone who “loved” you and you not loving them back. The more you and Mikasa were together, the more you fell in love with her and every little thing she did. Like the way you could feel her lips curve up into a small smile whenever you kissed her, or hearing her giggle when you said something even the slightest bit funny when she was about to fall asleep. You couldn’t help it, you were completely head over heels for Mikasa Ackermann. 

You had thought everything was going fine, minus the extreme amount of stress that you both were dealing with, but you didn’t think that anything bad would happen because of it. 

You were so wrong. 

“Why don’t you listen to me, Y/n?! I’m trying to help you!” Mikasa exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air to emphasize her point. 

“Because you aren’t helping! I am perfectly capable of doing things by myself and I don’t need you hovering over me!” You spat out angrily. 

“I’m not hovering over you, I’m trying to make sure you don’t get yourself killed!” She shot back at you.

“You are always watching my every move, Mikasa! I’m a grown adult and I can do things by myself!” You cried out, getting angrier and angrier as time went on.

“This is just how I am, Y/n! You know I do this with everyone! So why is it so hard for you to listen?!” Mikasa’s voice raised to a yell.

One of your eyebrows raised at her words as you quickly responded, “It’s not just me who doesn’t listen to you! Eren doesn’t listen to you either!” 

“This isn’t about Eren.” Mikasa snapped at you, her eyes slowly filling up with more and more anger as the argument went on.

You could tell that she was getting nearer and closer to fully exploding from her anger, but you continued on, “Oh it isn’t? Well then please, tell me what this is all about. Because to me it seems like you are completely hovering over me with every little thing that I do and it feels like you are mothering me instead of being my girlfriend!”

“I am not mothering you, I am just trying to make sure you don’t get yourself killed! Just because we’re in the Survey Corps doesn’t mean we are invincible! Don’t you understand that?!” Mikasa yelled.

“You think I don’t know that? Obviously I knew we aren’t invincible, Mikasa. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to end up dead somehow because I know what I’m doing! We’ve been doing this for years! I mean hell, just because I wasn’t in the top 10 doesn’t mean I am shit at what we do!” You spat back at her. 

Mikasa shook her head, letting out a sigh, “That’s not what I meant. But even Eren doesn’t go so far that he could end up getting himself killed.”

“You just said this wasn’t about him.” You growled out. “And yes, he does. He does it every fucking time we have to do a misson! And it’s always us who has to pay the price for his actions!”

“That’s not how it is and you know that!” She retorted. “He does what he thinks is best!”

“Why do you even care about him so much?! Aren’t I your s/o?!” You yelled angrily at her. 

“Obviously you are! But it doesn’t mean that I have to just completely ignore him! I still care about him!” Mikasa yelled back. 

“Then why don’t you just go be with Eren!” You finally exploded, not even caring about what you were saying anymore. 

Suddenly you felt a harsh sting on the side of your face and a echoing slap. You stumbled back and immediately grabbed your cheek, eyes wide as you then dropped onto your knees, covering your face with your hands. “Please, don’t. I’m sorry. I really am, I swear.” You said quietly. 

“Are you fucking stupid?! You can’t even do a simple task?!” Your ex shouted at you. 

“No, that’s not what happened, I swear!” You said quickly. 

Shortly after you said that you felt the force of something hitting you and you stumbled backwards, hitting the wall. All you could feel was pain on the left side of your face, and when you heard footsteps coming towards you, you lifted your hands up and covered your face. “Please, don’t do it again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

You heard a ‘tsh’ as your ex grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face before landing another hit on you, resulting in you shrieking out in pain. You got picked up by the collar of your shirt and your eyes shut, preparing for more hits that were bound to happen. Suddenly, another sharp pain went right through your stomach and you cried out, tears falling down your cheeks. “Please stop, I’m sorry, I swear.” You cried.

“Shut the fuck up!” 

“I’m sorry, please don’t. Please.” You whimpered into your hands. 

Mikasa looked at you with shock and sadness written all across her face, and she sat down on the ground next to you, grabbing onto you and pulling you into her chest. “Please don’t apologize, love. I would never hurt you on purpose.” She whispered to you. The girl gently ran her fingers through your hair as a few tears fell down her cheeks, “I’m so sorry. I should have never put my hands on you out of anger. I’ll never do it again, I promise.” 

You stayed a quiet for a few seconds before you turned your head and looked up at her, “I know you won’t. It’s just that...my last relationship wasn’t good, at all.” You paused for a moment. “It was uhm...very abusive.” You stopped there, not being able to say anymore without most likely breaking down into tears. 

Hearing those words made Mikasa feel even worse about what she had just done without realizing. She had no clue that you had even been in a past relationship, and definitely not an abusive one at that. All that she felt was shame on what she had done, and how much it had probably affected you. And she couldn’t lose you just because her anger went too far past logic and knowing what she was doing. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t know, but it doesn’t make my wrong doings okay. I’m just...so scared that I might lose you, and I wouldn’t be the same if I lost you somehow. I’m really so sorry.” She spoke barely above a whisper, looking at you with teary eyes and a few stranded tears falling down her face. 

You wiped away her tears away with the pad of your thumb and you gently caressed her skin on her cheek. “It’s okay, darling. I know you would never hurt me on purpose, which is why I forgive you. And please, don’t think you’ll lose me. I would never even dream of leaving you on purpose, so please, don’t think that.” 

Mikasa sent you a small smile before she leaned in and pressed her lips against yours with you immediately kissing back. Another thing you loved about her was how shy her kisses were, but they were still filled with so much love that you knew she would never try to hurt you. 

After a few moments, Mikasa pulled away and rested her forehead on yours. “I love you, Y/n.” She whispered. 

“I love you too, Mikasa.”

[drabbles-mc]

The Long Game

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Request by Anon:  Nestor Oceteva with the fluff sections prompts 30: I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, 40: Why are you so scared of loving and 49: You’re the only thing that matters?

Warnings: language, fluff so sweet it’ll make your teeth hurt

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: So to balance out the angsty request, we have a nice fluffy one too. I had a lot of fun writing this. I just really like the idea of super sweet Nestor

General Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce ​ @thesandbeneathmytoes ​ @paintballkid711 ​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl ​ @queenbeered ​ @sillygoose6969 ​ @sesamepancakes ​ @yourwonkywriter ​ @chibsytelford ​ @gemini0410 ​ @multiyfandomgirl40 ​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead ​ @plentyoffandoms ​ @georgiaaintnopeach ​ @twistnet ​ @garbinge ​ @amandinesblogofstuff ​ @bucky-iss-bae ​

Nestor loomed over your shoulder, watching as you folded ingredients together in a giant mixing bowl. You bit back a laugh as he watched you intently. You hadn’t been expecting him to stop in, not that you minded. But the unannounced visit meant that he was going to have to deal with the fact that you were wrapped up in other things before he arrived. He didn’t seem to mind, though, as he wandered around your kitchen with you.

“Who are you making all of these for?” he asked with a slightly confused look on his face.

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I’ll bring some to work. You can take some home with you if you want,” you laughed when you turned to look at him, “I just felt like baking this weekend.”

“Can I help?”

You shook your head, “No way.”

He looked a little offended but you could see that he was trying not to smile, “Why not? I’m a good cook.”

You nodded, “I know you are. But you’re a terrible baker. Remember when you tried to help me with the pie for my sister?”

He laughed, and you tried to pretend that it didn’t make your heart jump inside your chest, “But these are cookies. Totally different, right?”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly, “You can help by being my taste-tester when the first batch is done. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you’re trying not to be patronizing but you still are,” he chuckled.

You laughed and handed him the spatula that you had been using, “You can lick this clean while you sulk about it.”

Something flashed across his face for a moment that you couldn’t quite read. But before you could think about it too much, he snatched the spatula from you with a small smile, “Fine. But it won’t stop me from bothering you.”

You didn’t expect that it would. And, realistically, the last thing you would ever consider Nestor to be was a bother. You liked when he stopped in, even though as you both grew up and got wrapped up in your own lives it happened less and less frequently. He’d been your best friend for as long as you could remember, and the two of you had always balanced each other out. Nestor had always been a little quieter, keeping a lot of his thoughts and feelings to himself most of the time. You were good for him in that way, being open and honest enough to draw things out of him. He was good for you, too. Everything about Nestor made you feel safe. That sense of safety happened long before he became the man that was in your apartment that day—even as children you knew that he had your back and that hadn’t changed.

And as you both got older and he got involved with Galindo and everything that that entailed, you’d remained a safe place to go and rest. Your apartment was a place where he could recharge and he just got to be Nestor, and not the head of security for a cartel leader. You didn’t talk about work unless he brought it up, and he didn’t bring it up often. Despite the fact that his life had continued to get more dangerous, you never felt like it would ever get back to you. Something about the way he spoke and carried himself assured you of that despite the fact that he never verbally said it. You trusted that if things were too dicey, he wouldn’t bring it to your front door.

So, the two of you maneuvered around your tiny kitchen together. He was leaning against the counter, watching as you flitted around, spatula still between his fingers. He’d set the timer for you but other than that he let you do whatever it was you had to do to keep the kitchen from burning down. Every now and then your shoulder would brush and push against his and you pretended that you didn’t notice, that it didn’t make your face feel hot for a few moments each time.

The timer went off and you grabbed a pair of oven mitts. You carefully pulled the tray out of the oven, allowing Nestor to shut it for you as you carried the hot tray over to the table to cool.

“Can you put that tray in for me and start the timer again?”

He nodded, tossing the spatula into the sink before doing what you asked, “So I do get to help.”

You chuckled as you walked back over, “Baby steps. I might make a baker out of you yet.”

All that was left to do was wait. You were waiting for one tray to cool so you could empty it just to fill it up again, and you were waiting for the timer to go off for the tray that was currently in the oven. You and Nestor were each leaning on a separate stretch of counter, kitty-corner to each other. You wiped your hands off on your jeans, pretending not to notice the way that he was staring at you as you did.

“So is this how you spend your weekends now?” he asked with a quiet chuckle.

You smiled, “It’s been a while. Listen, I know it’s not quite as exciting as whatever you spend all your time doing, but it suits me just fine.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he saw the disbelieving look on your face and he laughed, nudging your foot lightly with his own, “I swear! This is nice.”

“Mhm,” you smiled at him, leaving it at that.

You walked over to the table and started carefully scooping cookies off of the tray and onto a plate so they could completely finish cooling. When the tray was empty, you looked up and saw Nestor watching you, a calm radiating from his facial expression and body language.

“Wanna try one?” you asked.

He nodded, walking over. You smiled as you held one out for him. You expected him to take it from your hand into his own, but instead he just leaned and bit into while you were still holding it. You laughed, smile stretching from ear to ear as butterflies erupted in your stomach.

He gave a nod of approval, “Those are good.”

“Well here,” you fed him the rest of the cookie, “you gotta finish it now.”

You both laughed and without thinking you reached up and brushed the crumbs clinging to the stubble on his face. It didn’t hit you until it was too late how close you were standing, the weight of the gentle gesture clearly not lost on either of you as you took in the look in Nestor’s eyes. Before you could make it any worse you cleared your throat, scooping up the now-empty tray and heading back over to the counter to put more dough onto it.

Nestor materialized behind you, and you were hyper-aware of how close he was standing to you. “Can I help with this part?” there was a lightness to his voice that you found reassuring.

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “I suppose,” it got him to laugh and he playfully nudged your shoulder. You smiled, “They all gotta be the same size though, alright?”

He nodded, a small smirk tugging at his lips, “I think I can handle that.”

You hopped up onto the counter so you could watch him. You swung your legs as you watched the concentration on his face and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. He was so methodical, clearly taking his baking lesson very seriously.

You bit back a laugh, “Domesticity doesn’t look half bad on you, Nes.”

He flicked his eyes up to you for a moment, a smile passing over his face for a brief moment before returning to the task at hand, “Oh really?”

You nod, “Really. One of these days, when you find someone who makes you wanna settle down, you’ll be able to do it. I can tell.”

“Just from watching me scoop cookie dough?” he laughed but didn’t lift his eyes from the tray in front of him.

“Just from knowing you for so long. I can’t believe you haven’t put a ring on some girl yet anyway.”

He smiled at you, setting his tray off to the side, “And I can’t believe you haven’t domesticated some guy yet.”

You laughed, “What do you think I’ve been doing with you this whole time?”

You said it as a joke, but there was a lot of truth to it. Not that you were trying to change Nestor into someone that he wasn’t, but that there was a part of you that was always holding out. There was something in the back of your mind that was always waiting for it to be you and Nestor in the end. It was a long shot—you knew his life and that he might never be able to settle down, but you still hoped. You tried not to put your life on hold for it, but days like this made you realize that there wasn’t another person you wanted to spend this kind of time with. You didn’t know if there ever would be.

He chuckled, “Really playing the long game, huh?”

You nudged his leg with your foot, “Is it not working? You think that a couple years ago you would’ve spent one of your very few days off in some girl’s apartment watching her bake cookies?”

He smiled, but you could see that there was something else lingering in his expression, “Maybe not.”

“See? I’ve got you ready for whatever girl reels you in,” your tone was light but you didn’t really want to think about him being with someone else.

“You’ve got some high hopes for me,” his smile was soft.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He laughed, but there was a touch of hollowness to it, “You know me better than anyone—you know exactly why you shouldn’t have such high hopes for me.”

You shook your head, “Stop, don’t be like that,” you knew it was a bit of a touchy topic for him, but what was the point in being someone’s best friend if you weren’t going to call them out on their shit, “Why do you always sell yourself so short, hm? Why are you so scared of loving?”

“I’m not scared, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, “Right. Because Big Bad Nestor Oceteva isn’t scared of anything,” it broke the tension and got you both to laugh, “But I mean it, you know—don’t sell yourself short. You’re gonna make some girl real happy one day.”

He started to say something else when the sound of the timer cut through your conversation. He pressed his lips together, stepping out of your way so you could take the tray out. Your back was to him but you could hear him setting the next tray into the oven and starting the time over again.

When you turned around to walk back into the kitchen, you nearly bumped into Nestor who was already right behind you. You laughed, ignoring the heat taking over your cheeks, “Sneaky.”

He chuckled, “It’s a job requirement,” he paused, eyes desperately searching yours as he tried to piece together his next sentence, “You really think that I could have this with someone?” he gestured around your apartment.

You nodded as you made your way back to the kitchen, Nestor close behind, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“You know my life. It just feels stupid to even think about all of that when I do what I do for a living.”

You gently rested your hand against his chest, “It’s not stupid. You’re going to find someone who understands and accepts all of that. Someone who is…you know…patient,” you smiled.

“Someone like you?”

You didn’t think that three words could knock the wind out of you so effectively, but they did. You laughed, unable to meet his eyes, “Nes, c’mon, don’t joke—”

“I’m not joking,” he stepped closer, looking down at you intently. Every word you wanted to say got caught in your throat, so Nestor continued, “You’re my best friend. And, you’re right, I am scared. Or at least, I usually am. But when I’m here, with you, I’m not. Being here with you is like stepping into an entirely different world, one where you’re the only thing that matters. I love it, and I miss it the second I leave.”

It was everything you wanted to hear and yet you had a hard time believing it, “Where is all of this coming from?”

“Because, as usual, you’re right,” he smiled as he reached forward, wiping a small streak of flour off your forehead, “a few years ago I wouldn’t be doing any of this. And, honestly, if it wasn’t you, I still wouldn’t be doing it. But it is you,” his hand rested lightly on your cheek, “and you feel like home. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, and it feels like a waste of time to keep pretending like I haven’t been.”

There were so many things that you wanted to say, but you couldn’t force yourself to speak. All the words were caught in a lump at the back of your throat. You could feel happy tears starting to gather in your eyes as you rested your hand over his. Knowing that there were no words you could think of that would accurately explain how you felt, you pulled him down into a kiss.

You could feel that it caught him by surprise, but he quickly recovered and leaned down into you. Both his hands rested on the back of your neck, pulling you up into him. You smiled into your kiss, arms easily wrapping around him as you soaked up every moment of his lips being pressed against yours.

The moment wasn’t long enough, cut short by the sound of the timer buzzing on the counter. You pulled away slightly, unable to stop the quiet laugh from escaping past your lips as Nestor rested his forehead against yours.

“Dammit,” you finally were able to make yourself speak, a tinge of humor in your voice.

Nestor chuckled as he reached over and turned the timer off, “Timing is everything, huh?”

You laughed, but the intensity of everything that had just happened didn’t slip from your mind. You looked over at him, “I love you.”

His eyes widened at hearing you say it like that for the first time. A small smile crossed his face, “I love you too,” he pressed a quick, soft kiss to your lips, “Don’t let the cookies burn.”

“Shit, right, right,” you laughed as you shook your head, trying to get all of your thoughts back in order.

You felt his eyes on you as you shuffled around the kitchen, thankful that everything was second nature for you at this point because there were a million thoughts running through your head and none of them had to do with the task at hand. You heard his light footsteps as he walked up behind you, and the wave of warmth that washed over you as he lightly draped his arms around your waist was unlike anything else you’d ever felt. He rested his chin down onto your shoulder, watching you get everything in order.

“Better take notes,” you said with a laugh, “Now you’re definitely going to have to help next time.”

He laughed, pressing a light kiss into your shoulder, “Oh, so this is what it took?”

You smile, nodding, “You’re leveling up now, Nestor. You think you’re ready?”

He smiled, “I guess we’ll find out.”

[forgottenpasta]

Dulce Periculum Pt. 2

Summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part 2/2.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 8.8k

Pairings: Tiger Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader X Wolf Hybrid!Jeongguk

Warnings: Taehyung has some tiger parts that you might wanna google, knotting, too much cum, creampie, cumplay(?), penetrative hardcore sex, oral sex (f and m recieving), slight ass play, threesome, swearing, ugly crying lol.

Part 1 | Part 2 (complete)

****

Bewildered, Jeongguk stood rooted on his feet for a few seconds, unable to comprehend what had just occurred. He had expected surprise from you, maybe even a little bit of disgruntlement, which he could deal with and have you back in his arms in no time. 

Instead, he’d just watched you cry for the first time. And he was the reason. 

Muscles snapping back into action, he dashed after you, shouldering past many a drunk people impolitely. Jackson wasn’t gonna be happy with him for slacking off on bouncer duty, and shoulder checking club-goers on top of it, but right now he couldn’t give a flying fuck about anybody but his owner. He was a little shaken, second guessing everything. 

He knew you were attracted to them. It was crystal clear you wanted them. Although he admits it wasn’t the most ethical thing to not reveal his identity to you, but he was a hybrid! He hadn’t considered that possibility until after you kissed him. Because for him, he could recognise your scent from among a crowd of people blindfolded. But what had he done that was so bad you would cry? 

He was thoroughly distressed by the time he burst through the exit, frantically looking for you among the few people still straggling outside. His panic rose when he couldn’t spot you. Willing his heart to calm, he took a deep breath, immediately picking up your scent in the air. Turning left, he followed the scent trail and just as he turned a corner he spotted you. The blue of your dress was stark against the otherwise dim surroundings, like a neon light in the dark. You were stumbling along the pavement, clearly the alcohol was doing its job, but he could also hear your angry mutterings. For someone who was usually quiet and never drew attention to herself, you were swinging way too opposite your usual scale of behaviour. As he speeded up to catch up to you, he realised he wasn’t the only one to notice. 

Some humans loitering beside an alleyway a few metres ahead were very opening leering at you, attention firmly on your swaying figure perfectly on display in your skin tight dress as they watched you approach. He broke into a run, anger and fear for you battling inside him. 

“Back the fuck off!”, he shouted when he saw one of them break from the group to approach you. 

Hearing him you stopped in your angry stride abruptly, not turning around to look at him. When he caught up to you, he placed a protective hand on your shoulder immediately, glowering at the men who still seemed to be not getting his message, the man who had stepped forward was observing you both with a critical eye. Likely gauging whether he and his gang could take him up or not. 

“___, lets go home.”, Jeongguk whispered in your ear from behind, and you jolted hearing your actual name from his mouth. 

It seemed he couldn’t get one thing right this night because you turned on him so fast he startled back.

Pointing a finger at his chest, you raged with mascara smudged tears running down your face. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you! Fuck off! I’m done being a toy you can play with!”

Jeongguk gaped at you for a moment, the sight of you so distressed and angry had him feeling a little helpless. He reached for you, but you flinched back, stumbling in your heels. 

A pain bloomed in his chest, like a glass shard lodged in skin and he was convinced that it was his own doing which had put it there. Doing his best to appear harmless, he gently caught your cold hand to stabilise you. 

“__, I’m sorry. We can sort this all out at home, okay. Let me take you home.”, he spoke softly, his ears folded over on his head as he placed his other hand on the small of your back. 

He was never one to display the typical domestic hybrid behaviours so many humans associated hybrids in general with. He was a wolf, he acted like one. But right now, all he wanted to do was give you puppy dog eyes and ask for warm hugs till you forgot about whatever he’d done to fuck up things so bad. 

Tonight wasn’t his night though.

“Oh now you wanna call me by my name, huh? What happened to “owner”?”, your voice was dripping with derision, a sneer on your tear-streaked face. 

“Is that guy bothering you?”, one of the creepy guys who had been leering at you asked, ironically. Giving Jeongguk a smirk, he ambled a little closer towards you.

Jeongguk’s hackles rose, his wild instincts thrumming to protect his territory which was currently under threat for all he cared. But these guys were humans, he had to be cautious, if he beat them into a pulp like he was itching to, he could end up in jail for a long time, or worse be put down without a proper trial. Hybrids weren’t treated like the rest of the general population when it came to acting in self defence. 

On top of that he was a trained fighter. He could lose his license as a trainer if he put his hands on these puny, malnourished bastards. 

But Jeongguk swore if the pervert took one more step towards you he’d throw caution to the wind, chance his luck and cave the fuckhead’s face in with his fist. 

You turned your head to look at the guy in confusion, having not even realised someone was there in the first place. The guy had the audacity to put out his hand for you to take. 

Jeongguk growled threateningly, a sound that came deep from his chest, lengthened canines on display as he bared his teeth in a predatory snarl. 

The pervert faltered, hand falling to his side as he swallowed, but making another shameless attempt he called out to you, “Come with me sweetheart. We can go anywhere you like. Or would you like us to beat up this dog for you?”

You recoiled, disgust clear on your face as you pressed into Jeongguk’s chest to get away from them. 

Jeongguk suppressed his smile when you, very drunkenly, put them in their place. 

“My hybrid broke a hulking bear’s jaw yesterday, do you guys want a bone alignment too? Or maybe you have a death wish?”, you asked sarcastically, wildly pointing at them to make your point.

Jeongguk had had enough of stalling out on this cracked pavement, under broken streetlights and he could tell you were getting cold. He was getting you home within the next ten seconds or else. 

Swiftly removing the black button down he was wearing, that all club employees were supposed to wear, he wrapped it around your shoulders as you gesticulated at the men some more, this time involving middle fingers. He was wearing a t-shirt underneath so he was good to go. 

Next he lifted you into his arms easily, a surprised yelp escaping you as you clutched his shoulders for balance. Making an about turn he strode towards the direction where his car was parked, not giving another glance to the human men looking at you both bewildered. 

Surprisingly, you didn’t put up any fight to get down from his arms, clenching your fingers in the fabric of his shirt around you to keep it from falling down. He peered down at you cautiously, knowing that he was taking a liberty carrying you like this but he could not stand in the presence of those vile men ogling at you while you shivered in the cold for one more moment. He was able to smell their sick thoughts and arousal for you, he wouldn’t have been able to control himself he didn’t take you away from there immediately. 

You looked spent and small in his arms, like all the fight had left your body. You didn’t look at him, instead finding something immensely interesting in the club logo printed on his T-shirt and swirling your finger around the design over his left pec. It was nothing, just the tip of your finger over fabric, but it made him shudder nonetheless. 

You had absolutely no clue what you did to them, how your smallest gesture or quirk send their hearts tailspinning much like yours did when they teased you. 

Taehyung and him had decided that it was better for everyone that their new owner didn’t know how they felt about her. Owning hybrids for the first time, they knew it was difficult for you to adjust your life around them anyhow, when not even factoring your own attraction to them, they had decided not to mix in their own emotions into it to make it any harder for you. 

But Jeongguk was wondering if maybe that wasn’t the best course of action anymore. 

He sighed, your silence was killing him more than your angry shouts. “Own—”

“If you think I’ve forgiven you, don’t. I don’t want to talk to you.” You sniffled slightly and if your words weren’t enough, the sound jabbed him straight in the heart.

Jeongguk knew when to throw in the towel and apologise sincerely, though he still wasn’t quite sure exactly what had made you cry so bad. 

“Forgive me, Owner. I should have told you it was me back in the club, I didn’t real—”

Your sudden glare on him was so intense, his words automatically died in his throat. What had he done now?

“You think I’m angry because I didn’t know that it was you?!”, you snapped, voice loud and decidedly pissed off once again. He gulped, glancing down at you cautiously but not breaking his stride to his car parked behind the club. 

“Then what are you angry at?”, he dared to ask, though something told him that he was only digging himself a deeper hole. But he’d fucked up royally somehow anyway, how worse could it get?

The scowl on your face and the tinge of red taking over the skin of your face told him the answer. Your next words were screamed at his head. “How about not coming up to me in the first place?! How about leaving me be?!”

Jeongguk stopped walking as a horrifying thought occurred to him. His voice was dumbfounded as he asked, “Are you saying it wasn’t cons—”

“NO!”

Jeongguk’s soul almost left his body at your scream, as he flinched back from you. At this rate he wouldn’t be surprised if someone called the police. 

A sliver of irritation was quickly replacing his remorsefulness. “Then you did want me to kiss you? And it’s not about me not revealing my identity? Then what is it? You’re not making any sense, Owner.”

“Put me down.”

“What?”

“Put me down.”, you snapped, squirming in his arms so that he was forced to let you stand on your feet.

“We’re almost to my car, please don’t tell me you won’t let me take us home. I’m sorry for making you angry. Again.”

You shook your head, and he almost panicked at your apparent refusal but you allayed it. “Lead the way.”

When you both got to his car, you refused any help from him, running ahead of him slip in the back passenger seat before he could open the front one for you. He sighed, never knowing you were such a petty sulker, but frankly he should have expected it. 

He blasted the heat when he settled in the driver’s seat, reaching back to adjust the rear vents so they directly faced you. The whole time in the car he kept glancing in the review mirror.  You didn’t meet his eyes once, but passed out in your seat two blocks away from reaching home.   

Jeongguk knew he had a mountain to climb ahead of him. For a minute there, his thoughts had taken an unbearable turn. What if whatever he had done damaged his relationship with you permanently? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. 

But he shook them away, not accepting the possibility. 

Parking in the driveway, he exited and rounded the car to open your door. You were deep asleep, the streaks of the tears still visible on your face and your dress so bunched up around your hips, he could almost see your panties. 

Averting his eyes, he wiped your face gently, doing his best to get the rid of the smudged mascara on your skin. Not wanting to wake you up, he took you in his arms so carefully and gently, it was almost like he was holding a newborn. You were as fragile to him though. 

Taehyung opened the front door even before Jeongguk could attempt to take out his keys, his eyes widening taking in the sight of you. 

He had enough presence of mind to keep his voice down. “What the fuck happened?”, he whisper-shouted as he let you both in. 

“Ugh.” Did Jeongguk really have to do this right now? He kinda just wanted to tuck you in, cuddle up to you and sleep forever. 

Taehyung wanted answers though, closing the door behind him, his hyung followed the two of you to your bedroom, feet shuffling frantically. “You had one job, Jeongguk. You were supposed to look out for her, why is she passed out?”

Jeongguk gestured for Taehyung to flip the bedding so he could settle you in. Taehyung narrowed his eyes at his non-answer but did it nonetheless. Laying you down and removing your heels, he answered the elder. “She’s just asleep.”

Taehyung was going to strangle him. He was just prolonging the inevitable. 

Taehyung was silent for a moment, before he whispered ominously. “Has she been crying?”

Or not. 

“Umm.”

Taehyung growled. And trust Jeongguk when he says a tiger’s growl is equal a throaty roar that can make one piss his pants. 

“Jeongguk.”

The younger sighed, getting up to face Taehyung’s wrath. This was officially turning out to be the worst night ever. Taehyung was very protective over you, much like him, though the tiger hybrid didn’t show it as often as he did, which was not much in the first place. But Jeongguk was certain he’d tear apart limb from limb any person who dared to make you cry. Jeongguk just hoped he made an exception for him. 

Taehyung’s face was carefully blank and his voice deadpan, “Jeongguk, tell me why she was crying, or I’ll make you cry.”

Nodding, the wolf gestured for him to come to the living room so as not to disturb you. 

He wished this night got over already.

********

You’d been dreaming of soft fur and an even softer kisses when you woke up, the pleasant images your subconscious was supplying slipping out of your grasp and into oblivion till you couldn’t remember them anymore. 

Instead a dull throbbing ache in your head and in your heart replaced them and by the time you were throwing the duvet off to get up your body ached too. 

“Ugh.” You plopped your head in your hands, feeling like death warmed over. You were feeling a little floaty and disjointed but from the corner of your eyes you sighted the ibuprofen on the bedside table along with a glass of water bringing you hurtling down into reality. 

Your brain supplied memory after memory of the previous night against your will, if you could stop the onslaught of remembrance you would, but you were helpless against it. Whatever happened to too much alcohol making you forget your drunken self? You clearly hadn’t been drunk enough, you guessed. 

Wanting to burrow back under the covers so you never had to face your hybrids but feeling gross as hell, you gingerly got up from your bed to head into your en-suite, internally thanking your real estate agent that you had a bathroom attached in every bedroom of your house. 

As you showered, you couldn’t help but come to terms with what you’d done. Storm off on Jeongguk after publicly climbing him like a tree and play battle of the tongues with him, almost get into trouble with some creepy men, scream Jeongguk’s ear off with your hysterical fit and sulk afterwards. He was likely so fucking confused at your behaviour, it wasn’t like they knew your feelings for them were serious and your anger more like a jilted lover who’d been told their relationship wasn’t serious rather than about your bruised pride, though the latter hurt just as much. 

You could never tell them the real reason though, they’d pity you more than they already did. That’s why you were dithering in your bedroom, putting on your cozy hoodie that reached the bottom of your thighs as slowly as you could. Not having the will to do much else with your appearance, you left it at that. 

Time to put on your big girl panties. 

When you stepped outside you immediately spotted them in the living room. Taehyung was sprawled on the couch, manspreading in a way that forced one’s gaze straight to the crotch and his inviting lap, sipping his tea languidly. 

The sight an smell of tea pulled you robotically closer till the Jeongguk’s figure came into view and you stopped abruptly. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, on pins and needles. 

And he sported a black eye. 

You gasped involuntary at the sight, drawing your hybrids’ attention to you, ears twitching and tails immediately in motion. Jeongguk sprang up from his seat, evidently aiming to amble towards you but you swiftly changed directions and dashed into the kitchen instaed, but not before seeing his crestfallen face at your apparent retreat. 

Grabbing a bag of frozen peas from the freezer you rushed back to the living room, his face lighting up again at your return. What a silly wolf. 

Even before you could stand before him properly, you were slapping the bag of ice cold peas on his eye. 

“Ow.”, he grunted, looking up at you beguilingly from where he had sat back down on the couch. 

“How did this happen?”, you asked, turning your head to narrow your eyes at Taehyung because you had your suspicions. 

The two often roughhoused with each other, giving as best as they got. Even with all of Jeongguk’s training you’d noticed Taehyung never seemed intimidated by it, matching the younger for every swipe and punch. You never thought it was your place to get in between what was clearly nothing serious, just a way to blow off steam between the hybrids but none of them had ever ended up with a bruise before.

Taehyung shrugged, putting his cup down. “We just talked.”

“With your fists?”

Jeongguk grabbed your wrist to pull it down from his eye, showcasing to you the light purple outline along his eye. “It’s already halfway healed, Owner. It’s gonna be back to normal in an hour or two.”

Shaking his hand off yours, you slapped the pea bag back on his eyes. You didn’t care to hear them boast about their accelerated healing, a black eye was a black eye.

 “Or an hour or four.”, he grumbled, rolling one eye up at you. Slowly, he brought his hands up to circle them around your waist, clutching you tightly close. Your heart pounded but you didn’t say anything.

“I’m a fighter, it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“Did I ask?”

Taehyung guffawed from behind you.

Jeongguk pouted. “Right.” He fidgeted a little, clearly bubbling with something more to say but hesitating.

“Just say it, Jeongguk. And remember what I told you.”, Taehyung said exasperatedly. 

You frowned but Jeongguk’s monologue overran your confusion. 

“I’m sorry for not considering your feelings, ___. If you thought that I was playing a prank on you or that I kissed you just for the heck of it, that’s not true! I had been keeping an eye on you all night and you looked so beautiful. When that fucker tried to put his gross hands on you in the club, I couldn’t let it happen. I was gonna leave you alone the whole night, let you enjoy by yourself, that was the plan. But I couldn’t help but give in when you clutched my hands around your waist like you never wanted to let go. And you smelled so good and looked so fucking sexy. I was helpless not to give in. But in no way, was I playing a joke on you or toying with you or whatever else you’ve convinced yourself. It was just my genuine, unadulterated want for you.”

You stared down at him in bewilderment before turning your head to glance at Taehyung. The tiger hybrid looked proud of his younger, nodding at you like he agreed that Jeongguk had been a good boy and it was time for his treat. 

“See. We just talked and I helped him along with his apology.”, Taehyung informed sagely. 

Then something registered belatedly. “Wait. Keeping an eye on me all night long? Let me enjoy myself? You knew I was there the whole time?”

Jeongguk, who had been glowing a little with self pride, looked like all his hopes had been dashed once again. Luckily his hyung was there to save him. 

“Eh, ___. I thought that was a moot point but I should have known you’re a little slow on the uptake. I planted those flyers in our mailbox.”

You turned on him so fast you got whiplash, Jeongguk’s hands falling from your waist. “What?!”

“Umm.” Taehyung eyed the frozen pea bag still in your hand, worried that you were going to hurl it at his head. “I take back the part about you being slow on the uptake?”

“Why did you do it?”, you asked, feeling hurt creep back up on you after the warmth Jeongguk’s words had blossomed. Had they planned this all out to make a fool of yourself? 

Taehyung was remarkably more perceptive than his younger. He realised you were getting riled up in your self-deprecating thoughts again immediately. He got up, closing the distance between you to take your hands in his and pull you closer. Hooking your chin up to make you look at him, he peered into your eyes for an excruciatingly long moment, his orange ears flicking on top of his head when he frowned. 

“I know what you’re thinking. Please don’t. We were just worried. When you told us you were going to a club, I thought why not the one where Jeongguk’s gonna work? He could look out for you from afar while you had the break from us you were clearly going for. Kill two birds with one stone. You weren’t supposed to know he was there.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. He knew why you had not spent your weekend like you usually did and went clubbing instead. He was even more perceptive than you gave him credit for. 

Taehyung smiled slightly at your surprise, taking your right wrist in his hands to softly rub circles on your pulse, a peculiarity of his and Jeongguk’s that they often did. You never asked why but got nervous and flustered everytime they took your wrist in their hands. 

But today you were curious enough. You held up your hand, taking his along. “You guys do this a lot. Why?”

Taehyung, whose gaze was as penetrating as ever a few seconds ago, flitted his eyes away from yours. You heard Jeongguk get up to stand beside you, taking your other hand in his. 

“We can’t properly scent you, __. This is us compensating for it.”, he informed. The bruise around his eye was almost gone, a thin ring of bluish-purpled skin all that was remaining. 

Your frown of cluelessness was clear on your face. 

Instead of answering your unspoken question, Taehyung asked one of his own, stepping even closer till your chest brushed his and you had no choice but to look up as he towered over you. “Tell me, Owner. Did you want Jeongguk to kiss you? Although I know the answer already, be honest.”

You should have been offended at his presumption but you had no room to hide from your feelings anymore, not that you ever had. But you were feeling impossibly exposed since yesterday night, might as well rip off the band-aid and get it over with. 

“Yes.’, you whispered. Jeongguk pulled your hand up to kiss your palm. 

Taehyung smirked. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

God, yes. You nodded. 

Taehyung shook his head, chuffing disapprovingly. “Speak up, Owner. I don’t want any mixed signals between us anymore.”

You bit your lip, but gave in. He was right, it was past time that you went past silent pining and them loud diversion through their constant teasing. 

“Yes please. Kiss me Taehyung.” 

Taehyung closed his eyes, before he closed the distance between you, urgently murmuring one last confession before taking your lips in a searing kiss. “I have been dying to.”

Hands going into his hair immediately to keep him in place, you stood on your tip-toes to deepen the kiss. It wasn’t a slow, languid exploration like the kiss with Jeongguk but a frenzied meeting of lips that left the taste of tea on your tongue when he pushed his inside your mouth. His hand cupped your cheek ever so tenderly, starkly contrasting the ravenous way he devoured your mouth. 

You sensed Jeongguk behind you before he pushed your hair off one of your shoulders, making room for his lips on the pulse at the crook of your neck. He sucked at the sensitive skin before biting it gently, making you groan in Taehyung’s mouth. 

Nuzzling the skin behind your ear, the wolf hybrid whispered heavily. “This is scenting. Our scent all over you so other hybrids know to stay away. Know that you are taken.”

You broke the dizzying kiss to turn your head to the younger, much to Taehyung’s annoyance as he chuffed and attached his lips to your jaw instead, trailing kisses to the other side of your neck. 

“It comforts us to know that our territory is marked.”, the tiger hybrid continued, his voice a low baritone somewhere between a growl and rumble. 

“Your territory, huh?” You raised a brow, a small smile playing on your lips as you tilted you head to bare more of your neck to him. 

Taehyung straightened, his canines had lengthened a little, giving a sinister edge to his crooked smile. “Do you have any doubts, Owner? Want us to give you a demonstration of exactly how much we own you?”

Gulping at the veiled threat/inveiglement, your body couldn’t help but sing with anticipation and lust at it, arousal seeping from your pussy already. 

“Fuck, she’s wet, hyung.”, Jeongguk growled, nipping at your neck lightly, mindful of his sharp teeth. “You smell so good when you’re turned on, Owner.”

Taehyung tilted his head. “Is that a yes? We won’t go easy on you, we’ve wanted this ever since you first stepped foot inside that lawyer’s office.”

He was saying everything you’d wanted to hear from them ever since they came into your life, your wildest fantasies were coming true. 

Reaching up to card your finger into Taehyung’s hair, you ran your nails at the base of his soft orange and black striped ears. An involuntary chuff escaped him automatically and he narrowed his eyes at you. He was so tiger-like in his disposition, arrogant, ever-knowing and loved to keep his feelings in isolation by directing attention on everyone but himself, unless he was modeling that is. No more.

“I’ve wanted this too. But you both knew that, I didn’t exactly make a secret of it.” Reaching behind you pulled Jeongguk closer too, giving his furry ears the same treatment. Unlike Taehyung he accepted your petting gladly. “For once I want you guys to be as vulnerable as I always am around you two.”

Taehyung pursed his lips. “How exactly do we do that?”

You smirked, much like he did whenever he teased you. “You call me Owner but do I really own you? I want to hear it from your lips. Both of yours.”

Taehyung stilled in front of you while Jeongguk was silent only momentarily before barking, “You own me, Owner. I am yours.”

You huffed a laugh at his eagerness but the sincerity in Jeongguk’s voice spread tingles of warmth to your heart, his deep voice flaming your libido. You challenged Taehyung with your eyes.

The tiger studied you for a second before sighing, knowing you’d put him on the spot and he couldn’t get away with dodging talking about his feelings like he usually did. “You own me, __. But we own you too.”

“That’s fine with me.”, you murmured before reaching up to pull him for another mind-melting kiss. 

Jeongguk whined from behind you. “Thats unfair.”

Without breaking away, you took the wolf hybrid’s hands to snake them inside your hoodie and upon your bare breasts. His palms immediately kneading them, hardening your nipples. 

“Fuck yes.”, he grunted in your neck, pinching your nipples till you gasped and broke the kiss, the electric pleasure going straight to your core till you were rubbing your thighs together. 

Taehyung grabbed the hem of your hoodie to pull it up and off your head in one jerky motion, till you stood before them in nothing but your panties. 

Some of your momentary bravado fizzled at the prospect of them checking you out while you were so bare, you fidgeted your hands up to try and cover your breasts. 

Jeongguk’s hands caught yours before you could. “Nuh uh.”

Taehyung bit his lip as he surveyed your naked upper body, reaching up to circle your left areola but not touching the hardened peak of your breast, torturing you slowly. “These belong to us now, you said so yourself. You can’t hide them away from us from now on.”

“Please.”, you sighed when he continued evading your neglected nipple. 

Smiling at your begging, he rewarded you by pushing you back in Jeongguk’s arms and bending down to take your nipple in his hot mouth. Your toes curled immediately as your head hit the wolf’s shoulder, current travelling straight to your pussy at his eager suckling. 

“Fuck, I’ve got the best view.”, Jeongguk breathed into your hair, watching his hyung worship your breast, his striped tail swishing behind him. 

Not able to help himself, Jeongguk slid his hands down to hook into your panties, teasing them down till they fell on the floor. Parting your legs with his thigh and catching the back of your leg with his hand, he put your foot on the couch to give him unfettered access to your dripping pussy. 

Your folds parted on their own at the position he put you in, and when his fingers touched your pussy he found your weeping center immediately, your hole clenching at his touch.. 

When he pushed one finger in slowly, you brought your hands to Taehyung’s head to clutch him to your chest, the tiger hybrid looking up at you with mirth in his eyes. 

Turning your head you whispered in Jeongguk’s ear, “More.”

He smirked...and removed the one finger he’d lodged inside you. 

“Jeongguk!”, you whined, mouth turning down at the corners when Taehyung left your breast too. 

Before you had time to complain, the wolf was pulling you back to abruptly manhandle you over the edge of the couch’s armrest, so that your naked ass stuck out in the air enticingly while your upper body sprawled stomach down on the plush seat. 

“You want more? I think you’d love Taehyung hyung’s tongue on your cunt. He’s got a way with it that even I can’t compete with.” Jeongguk parted your legs to bare your pussy to him, groaning as he thumbed the labia and stretched it open, giving him a view of your empty hole, glistening wet and begging him for a taste. “I wanna eat you out so bad.”

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glanced back at him in confusion, your face indicating you’d love for him to do just that. “Then do.”

Taehyung stepped beside Jeongguk, pulling his oversized button up shirt over his head without bothering with the buttons and somehow just that simple action made you even more wetter. 

Shaking his head to clear his shaggy hair off his face, he threw the shirt to the side, before giving you a secretive smile, as if he was aware of every thought going through your head. He likely was.

Jeongguk stepped aside to give his spot to his hyung, eyes not leaving the prize between your legs once, it was clearly hard for him to give up eating you out to his elder. 

Jeongguk gave you a knowing smirk as he came to stand before you, hands on the fly of his jeans. “Trust me, Owner. You want hyung’s tongue on you more than mine.”

Taehyung kneeled behind you, parting your thighs much like Jeongguk had. You jolted a little when you felt his fingertip find and rub your clit with experienced ease. Slow, deliberate circles as you felt the heat of his face approach closer to your core. 

You expected his tongue but he blew on your open pussy, making you clench and groan at the tingling sensation. “Please don’t tease, Tae.”

“Why don’t I distract you while hyung does what he wants.”, Jeongguk growled, grabbing your hair roughly to turn your face to him. 

The tight grip on your hair and the sight of a big, fat cock two inches from your mouth, had you salivating. You made to rub your thighs together to alleviate some pressure but yelped when Taehyung slapped your asscheek reprimandingly. 

“Don’t you dare hide away my breakfast.”, he rumbled before promptly taking your clit in mouth, sucking hard while circling the bead with his tongue. Simultaneously, his hand on your ass slid down to push two long fingers in your dripping hole without any warning.

Your gasp was choked back by Jeongguk jamming his cock in your mouth, not giving you any reprieve as he collected your hair in a makeshift ponytail to help him ride your face. 

“Yes.”, he grunted, teeth clenched at the feel of your tongue on the underside of his dick. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed about this, Owner. You sucking me off while Hyung eats you out.”

You moaned around his cock, relaxing your throat to take more of him, loving the feel of him so big in your mouth almost to the point of choking. That along with Tae’s mouth on your clit had you on cloud nine, all your dreams coming true already. 

You’d almost gotten settled into the rhythm of Jeongguk’s thrusts into your mouth when Taehyung pulled back to run his tongue from your clit to your perineum in one slow lick. 

This time you choked on Jeongguk’s cock for real, and the wolf generously pulled out to give you room to breath, smirking down at you. “Now you get why?”

Taehyung slid his tongue over your inner labia, probing yout hole but not going deeper. 

You keened. “What is that? It’s like...”, you trailed off because you couldn’t put it into words. 

His tongue wasn’t like anybody else’s you’d had on your pussy before, it felt ridged, like a thousand small peaks over the surface which had your sensitive pussy overstimulated at a thousand different points. 

One more excruciatingly slow lick, that had you clenching your fingers on Jeongguk’s thighs it was so good, and Taehyung pulled back to shrug at you. “Perks of being half tiger. I got a tongue like one.”

Your brain supplied a vague memory of you reading about tigers having spikes on their tongues somewhere. A tiger’s licks were supposed to be painful because of them, but Tae’s felt like it was made to eat a pussy out. You briefly wondered if that was deliberate on the part of the scientists who bred them before Taehyung was going back to giving you his genetically enhanced cunnilingus experience and making you forget all lines of thought.

A nudge from Jeongguk had you taking him back in your mouth, though it was seriously hard to concentrate on the blowjob when Taehyung was making your pussy feel like it was getting its own customised massage. Thankfully, Jeongguk took over the hard part from you by grabbing your hair and thrusting his fat cock in your mouth so that you only had to keep your mouth open and throat relaxed for him while he used you. 

When Taehyung pushed his alien tongue inside your pussy, your eyes rolled back at the feeling. He was eating you out in earnest now, drinking up the juices you produced for him, his hands on your lower back keeping you in place while he enjoyed himself. You could tell he truly loved doing this, he was clearly good at it because in no time you felt yourself climbing that familiar hill of pleasure. One thumb snaked down to gently ghost over your puckered back hole, making you clench your pussy walls around his invading tongue. 

His tongue felt so good, you couldn’t imagine how the cock in your mouth would feel in your pussy. They were clearly experienced lovers, though it wasn’t something you wanted to delve into currently. 

The triple onslaught of his finger circling your clit, his tongue working your cunt and the thumb on your anus, had you hurtling towards your orgasm at breakneck speed. Jeongguk felt you coming too, because he pulled back just as Taehyung flicked your clit with his tongue. 

The texture of his tongue made your clit zing with pleaure-pain as your orgasm washed over you so suddenly it left you winded. 

“Taehyung!”, you screamed his name so loudly the neighbours must have heard it. 

You slumped down on the couch, panting slightly. Taehyung ran a comforting hand up your bare back as he got up. You didn’t even realise Jeongguk taking his spot till you felt the distinct touch of the wolf folding one of your legs over the couch, spreading you impossibly wide. 

“Owner, your pussy is so swollen and cute. Hyung ate you out so well.”

You snorted, not getting up from your sprawled position. “Did you just call my vagina cute?”

Jeongguk huffed more cutely than any part of your body could ever look. “It is. And it’s gonna look even cuter with my cock stuffed deep in it.”

You laughed. “Yes please, but you gotta stop calling it cute.”

Taehyung plopped down on the couch beside your head. “It’s our pussy now. We can call it whatever we want. Infact, I’m gonna name it peaches after my favourite fruit.”

Highly offended, you propoed up on your elbows to give him a peice of your mind but he bent down to cover your mouth with his, effectively shutting you up. His hands carded into your hair to pull you up and deeper into the kiss and you forgot about what you had to say. 

This time you distinctly felt the uneven texture (along with the taste of your pussy) on his tongue, something you’d failed to notice during the first kiss. 

He pulled back to whisper against your lips, eyes hooded. “Because yours is the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

Jeongguk’s pushed in three fingers then, immediately feeling you gush around his finger at Taehyung’s words. Even though you weren’t a fan of hearing about any of their previous exploits, the thought you being the best pussy he’d tasted made your heart clench. 

Jeongguk chuckled. “Are you a slut for praises, Owner? Your pussy just went impossibly tight and wet.”

“I’m a slut for your cock. Put it in, Jeongguk.”, you whined as your hands attacked Taehyung’s zipper, craving his cock in your mouth. 

“Yes you fucking are.”, Jeongguk cursed thrusting inside you in one swift motion that had you tumbling into Taehyung’s lap as you cried out at the feeling of being so fucking full. 

It had been a long time since you’d had sex and you were feeling the effects, your cunt walls moulded to his cock like a warm, wet second skin and you clenched around him to get him deeper. 

“Fuck don’t do that, __. I’m gonna knot you before I even get to fuck you properly.”

“Then fuck me!”, you cried. 

He pulled back slowly, almost making you cry at the pace, before he thrust in so hard you felt his cock near your cervix. Soon, he set a brutal pace that had your jaw lax and eyes clenched in pleaure. His cock was so big and fat, he was making your walls throb from the inside. 

Taehyung pushed your hair behind your ears, making you look up at him. You realized you’d abandoned the blowjob you were about to give him when Jeongguk’s cock made you forget everything. You didn’t know how you could give him a good suck when you were being drilled into so thoroughly, but you made to try nonetheless, putting your hand on his bulge.

He took your hand in his, stopping you. Leaning forward, Taehyung kissed you tenderly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m so hard just looking at the beautiful face  you make when you get fucked good.”

You pulled him in to your lips again, groaning in his mouth when Jeongguk adjusted his pelvis to fuck up into you, brutally pounding your g-spot till you felt a deep pressure build inside you that had you shaking in Taehyung’s arms. 

Your nails dug into his arms, and pretty soon you couldn’t even concentrate on his lips, your face thumping down on his shoulder as your whole body moved from Jeongguk’s hard thrusts that had his pelvis slapping your ass in a rhythmic lewd noise that filled the room.

Biting down on Tae’s shoulder, you clenched around Jeongguk involuntarily when you felt him snake his hand down to your clit. The pressure built till you cried out his name on a prayer. 

“Jeongguk please! Make me come!”

His panting breath came out on a groan as his hand tightened on your hip, pulling you back on his thick cock with every thrust. “Anything for you.”

And then you felt it, the pressure at the entrance of your pussy, but a different kind than the one you felt internally. The base of Jeongguk’s dick expanded, swollen till you felt it distinctly nudging at your entrance at every thrust. 

“Tell me I can knot you, Owner. Please.”, the wolf hybrid pleaded, not faltering as he fucked you into the couch.

“Yes!”, you keened, hungry for everything he had to give you. 

With one more hard thrust, his knot was breaching your entrance making you cry out in pleasure-pain. With his second thrust, he lodged the bulb deep into your cunt. 

Taehyung pinched your nipples, both to distract you from the pain and torture you some more. The double assault had you coming for the second time, a tsunami of electric pleasure washing over every nerve of your body. 

Your orgasm triggered Jeongguk’s, the impossible tightness of your heaven of a pussy not allowing him to hold back any longer. He bathed your insides in hot, thick cum, a never ending stream of it in your womb which left you feeling even fuller if that was possible. You felt thoroughly stuffed. 

Jeongguk collapsed over your back where you were already sprawled on Taehyung’s lap, his weight over you sticky but comforting. 

“Just give me a second.”, he panted, sounding more wounded than you’d ever heard him, which was a feat considering he fought for a living. 

You turned your head to kiss his nose, and he smiled, not opening his eyes. He puckered his lips and you obliged him with a kiss. Something about kissing the wolf while he was buried deep inside you, his cum almost leaking from where you two were attached, had you feeling warm from the inside. You wanted, no needed, an endless repeat of the past hour for the rest of your life. 

Soon enough, his knot was deflating and he was leaving your lips to get up from over you. He was still hard when he pulled out of you, immediately making you feel so so empty. 

Thankfully because you were lying horizontally, not much of the huge load of cum he’d given you slipped out, though you could feel it deep inside of you. 

But when Taehyung stepped behind you to take his turn fucking you, he dashed your dreams of keeping all the cum they gave you inside. 

He grabbed your asscheeks, pulling them apart to give him a clear view of your freshly fucked pussy. Licking his lips, he ordered. “Push it out. I wanna see his cum dribble out of your cunt.”

Pouting, you looked back at him.

He laughed, slapping your ass in chastisement. “I’ll fill you up again, don’t worry. Now clench your walls and push it out.”

You obeyed happily at the thought of being filled again, clenching your pelvic muscles to push out the cum Jeongguk gave you. You felt it rising up towards your entrance and soon enough the thick white liquid was dripping out of you in abundance, leaking down your pussy and on the couch. 

Taehyung cursed, keeping you open for him to look at till his heart’s content. “Fuck, that’s a sight. You know this is it right? Once I’ve claimed you too, you can’t let anyone else touch you like this, Owner.”

A giddy thrill ran through you at his words, he was saying exactly what you wanted to hear. But right now you wanted him inside you more, pillowtalk could be had afterwards. “Wasn’t planning on it. Now will you fuck me, please. I need your cock inside me.”

He tilted his head, his ears twitching as if in amusement. “Be careful what you ask for.”

Slightly confused at his words, all thoughts fled your brain when he pumped his beautiful cock in his hand and brought it to your entrance, running it up and down your slit before pushing the tip in. He wasn’t as big as Jeongguk but he was just as thick, and as your pussy got a filled second time that day, you felt that strange sensation again, but this time on the inner walls of your cunt.

Your mouth dropped open on a silent cry, it was too much, you’d never felt anything like it. Even after being thoroughly fucked once by Jeongguk, your pussy felt assaulted by Taehyung’s cock. You were starting to realise why Jeongguk fucked you first.

Taehyung’s cock was covered in ridges much like his tongue was, the spiky sensation along your walls felt so foreign yet so good, it had you babbling without thinking. “Why haven’t I been with a tiger hybrid before? Ugh— I-I’ve been missing out.”

Taehyung stilled inside you and you cried out as the feeling of him pushing his cock in stopped. 

Grabbing you by the hair, he pulled you back toward him roughly, making you yelp. Your hand on the back of the couch was the only thing supporting your upper body as his cock slid in deeper into you. 

“You could’ve have had this dick much sooner had you not been running away from us all the time.”, he whispered in your ear. 

Turning your head as much as you could with his fist in your hair, you glared at him. “You could’ve had this pussy much sooner had you not been making fun of me all the time.”

Taehyung huffed a laugh, nuzzling your jaw with his nose as he started moving in you again, shallow thrusts that had his cock scraping your pussy walls. “Making fun? You’re so cute when you’re clueless.”

“What—aah.”

The shallow movements gave way to a harsh thrust that had him pulling almost all the way out to pound into your cunt forcefully. The mushroom tip of his cock scrapped your g-spot so perfectly, it had you shutting up immediately. 

Taehyung wrapped his arms around your torso to keep you suspended in the air while he pounded you from behind. The familiar pressure creeping up on you for the third time so fast it left you reeling. 

Taehyung knew what he was doing, he angled his hips to hit your g-spot again and again with every thrust while his ridged cock stroked your walls from the inside better than any ribbed dildo could. His cock made you want to throw out all your woefully inadequate sex toys, now that you’d had the best thing ever in your pussy. 

Sliding down the expanse of your stomach, he pinched your clit with his fingers, making you bite your lip. Your overstimulated and abused pussy had been building upto something monumental all this time. The previous two times you had come but you hadn’t hurtled past that pressure that had been rising up ever since Jeongguk first touched your pussy. You knew you could squirt, although it took a lot to make you reach that point.

This whole morning had been the definition of “a lot’.

Maybe Taehyung could sense it to because he increased the speed of his thrusts, pulling you down on his cock to meet his every upward motion, the sound of hardcore fucking filling up the room again. The inner pressure on your g-spot with every thrust burst as Taehyung bit into your neck, dousing you both and the couch below in clear liquid as you reached your orgasm with a scream of the Tiger hybrid’s name. 

With every thrust from him, you squirted a little more till you had nothing to give and your orgasm dulled into oversensitivity. He continued pounding you for a few more seconds, clenching his eyes closed as he chased his own orgasm at the heel of yours. 

“Fuck, I’m coming, ___.”, he grunted as he released into you, the thick ropes of cum mingling with Jeongguk’s deep inside your pussy. 

With a thump, you both collapsed on the couch, Taehyung taking care to turn at the last second to take you in his arms. 

You opened your eyes after you came down from your high a little, still panting heavily. Jeongguk had returned to the room, wearing a fresh pair of clothes, and sitting on the couch opposite as he watched you two with a mixture of lust and fondness in his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice the prominent bulge in his pants.

Of course they had an insatiable libido. Go figure. 

The wolf hybrid got up to come closer, a freshly laundered washcloth in his hand. Taehyung helped you sit up against him. Taking the insides of you thighs in his hands, he spread your legs so Jeongguk could clean you up. 

They both were so careful and tender with you that it almost brought tears to your eyes, but you held them back lest they call you a wimp. 

Speaking of which…

“Why did you call me clueless earlier?”, you asked Taehyung as he wrapped you up in his arms. You sat on his lap sideways as Jeongguk covered you up with the throw blanket you often kept on our couch. The wolf sat beside you and propped your legs in his own lap. 

Taehyung pecked your temple, gently running his fingertips at the nape of your neck. “Because you are.”

“Do you really think we’d give two fucks about teasing someone we didn’t like?”, Jeongguk asked, his hand massaging your bare thighs. “You know us better than that, Owner. We never put any of our time or effort into anything we’re not interested in.”

Now that you think about it, you’d only ever seen them giving disarming smiles or winks to girls who were interested in them, never going so far as even giving them a word of encouragement or hint or anything else. Never leading them on. Everything they did was deliberate, you were coming to realise. Much like them asking for your whereabouts in the cafe that day so that Taehyung could plant those flyers and Jeongguk could look out for you the whole night. But still. 

“That’s a weird way of showing your interest, I hope you guys know that. You both could have just come out and said it. It’s not like I was making any secret of my hopeless attraction to you guys.”, you complained, crossing your arms over your chest. 

You could feel Taehyung smiling in your hair. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “And if you think we’re gonna stop teasing you, you’re hopelessly optimistic too, Owner.”

Taehyung snickered at your glare, pulling you closer to his chest. “Haven’t you heard, Owner? Boys always tease girls they like.”

That logic went over your head, but you didn’t question it, instead sighing in resignation as you whined for the nth time. “Okay, at least stop calling me owner.”

Jeongguk nodded easily. “As you wish, Owner.”

A/n: let me know what you thought, feedback keeps me writing.

[curly-bangtan]

Blizzard (M)

Pairing: roommate!Jungkook x reader

Summary: When a blizzard hits your town, you and your shy awkward roommate are forced to spend time together, not being able to leave the house due to the strong snowstorm. To make matters worse, the power gets cut in the middle of his shower. Which also means no heating.

Genre: roommate au, domestic au, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers

Warnings: bit of a slow burner, vanilla!Jungkook, virgin!reader, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), losing virginity, shy soft boy Koo with a crush and a noona kink, your heart could possibly burst from how cute he is

Word Count: 15.5k oops

A/N: (This fic is written in parallel to Heatwave, with an opposing concept in mind. You don’t have to read Heatwave to read this, but it would be interesting and funny to see the differences in the two scenarios that both lead to roommates hooking up.) Also, happy birthday, bunny boy! Sorry this was a day late, I was honestly swarmed. I love you, koo. Writing this very much gave me a bias crisis but it was all worth it. Enjoy! :”)

PS. Think April 2019 Jungkook 

.

‘A severe snowstorm is set to hit us this weekend with temperatures dropping down to -16˚C. It is therefore ill-advised for anyone to leave their houses during this period until the blizzard subsides as the fifth snow-induced traffic accident has been reported this week in our town…’

You have always marvelled at how the weather lady announces such things with such a passionate captivating tone.

‘The calculated probability of a city-wide power cut is currently at 72%, so please be well-equipped to stay indoors for the next two days.’

Oh shit. A power cut?

This is not good at all. Not like you have any plans for this weekend anyway, and you wouldn’t necessarily mind being stuck inside since you are good at entertaining yourself. But to possibly have no warm water, no internet in the duration of these few days?

You are currently snugly rolled up in the warmth of your blanket burrito, a mug of chamomile tea fitted in your hands, the steam of which evaporates under your chin into a slick coat. Friday evenings have never been eventful for you as long as Jimin doesn’t drag you out to some bar with him. As introverted as one can get, you much prefer staying in and watching TV or endlessly browsing the web.

The distinct rattling of keys spins your attention to the front door. Hearing the plunge of the metal into the keyhole is strangely satisfying to your ears. In steps a pink-nosed, frost-dusted Jungkook, all wrapped up in winter apparel thick enough to make him waddle clumsily.

A gust of cold flares inside from the harsh outdoors, stray flakes of snow flying in after him and landing on the rich oak tiles of the foyer. From the couch, you see his silhouette breathe out a visible grey huff. The door behind him falls shut, once again entrapping the warm temperature into the confines of these walls.

You watch your roommate, humming to himself with his black earpods hooked in his ears, as he unties the scarf around his neck. He probably hasn’t noticed your presence yet; he’s always been a little clueless afterall.

Then he looks up and meets your lingering gaze.

You both jump a little, his humming ceases instantly, eyes scrambling, darting away to your surroundings: the quiet television, the arching lamp, the white powdered window panes. Anywhere but at each other.

Clearing your throat, you greet him softly . ‘Hi.’ Your thumb rubs at the lip-shaped tea stain on the rim of your mug.

‘Um, hi. Good evening, noona.’ He dips his head at you, hood drooping lower over his head. You are two years his senior, and despite your supposed familiarity, he insists on formalities.

The weather lady has now been replaced with the anchorman, who is droning on about the car accident this morning. Awkwardness hangs in the air between you, as it always does every time you speak. It’s now your turn to say something, you’re painfully aware. But what do you say?

‘Snow storm.’ It is a statement more than anything. As if he hasn’t noticed… Nice one. You immediately want to hide your face in the mint furry throw you’re wrapped in.

‘Yeah. Snow storm.’ The rubbery sound of the careless removal of his shoes against the floor is louder than his response. ‘Jimin didn’t make it.’

Your blood freezes. ‘Wait what?! Oh my god! What happened to him?’ It takes the blanket sliding off you for you to realise that you’ve stood up abruptly. Your body is immediately flushed with a breeze of cold, devoid of insulation.

The car accident… It can’t be…

Jungkook’s attention flickers to the glaring screen as he paces towards you and realises how he must’ve sounded. ‘Woah, sorry, I worded it badly. I mean, Jimin’s stuck at Taehyung’s because the snow is too thick for him to drive back. And the service on his phone is whack, so he can’t reach you. Taehyung told me. Sorry, I didn’t mean he didn’t make it.’ Nervous chuckle. Scratching the back of his head.

Never has he said this many words to you in one go, this must be a record. That, as well as your own silly misunderstanding of his words, makes you release a humoured breath. ‘Oh right… Haha… I’m stupid.’

‘No. my bad.’

Wow. If you two keep this up, this might just be your longest running conversation in the history of living together.

Because he’s looking at the floor rather than you, you feel the liberation to look directly at his face. His round nose is red from the freezing temperature, his teeth gnawing at his chapped lips. You follow his gaze travel across the dark wooden panels, reaching a halt at your feet.

‘You’ve got a hole in your sock, noona.’ He states.

Indeed you do. Under his wide-eyed glare, you can’t help but curl your toes inwards as if it would hide your pinkie jutting out of the fabric. The way he addresses you, how his lips form a pouted ring when he pronounces the “oo”, makes you particularly self conscious. ‘Oh… Yeah, I know, it’s fine. It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’ These socks have sheltered your feet for three winters only to betray you now, during a bloody blizzard. The icy floor licks at your exposed skin tauntingly.

Silence draws taut between you. Like you’re tied to opposite ends of a string and are both trying desperately to escape, to walk away from each other.

It’s his move now… Why isn’t he saying something? But at the same time, what can he possibly respond to ‘It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’?

‘Right… See you.’ Jungkook nods politely and heads for his room. And you know you probably won’t see him reemerge until tomorrow; it’s practically his batcave in there.

A shudder courses through your body. Though it’s not from the cold but rather the embarrassment of that encounter. Quickly switching off the TV, you hide back in the comforts of your blanket like a Halloween ghost and scurry into your own room to avoid seeing him again.

.

Jeon Jungkook.

Even the thought of his name makes you crease inward involuntarily like it’s some bad memory. Despite having lived under the same roof for more or less six months, neither of you have warmed to the other in the slightest. It’s not that you have anything against him; you’re sure he must be a lovely boy, but…

Well, when you put two shy individuals next to each other, you can’t really expect them to bond over their bashfulness. No, they both tend to retract into their shells.

How you came about living together is three simple syllables: Park Jimin. If it wasn’t for this one common thread you share, your worlds would never have collided.

Ever the caring friend, it goes without saying that Jimin would rent out his vacant room in his three-bedroom house to you without even a second of hesitation after Hoseok ditches the boys to move in with his girlfriend. You’ve met all his friends before. Jimin is a social butterfly afterall, how could he resist forcing all his best mates into a confined space and make them talk to each other, or more commonly known as a party?

Namjoon and you get along just fine, seeing as you both are whores for literature. Seokjin? As long as you compliment his cooking and force a giggle at his jokes, he’ll accept your friendship. Surprisingly, Yoongi took a liking to you; you guess is due to your mild mellow nature which must clear his headaches caused by this chaotic bunch. Unsurprisingly, Hoseok took a liking to you, well, because he’s Hoseok and incapable of negativity. Much to Jimin’s jealousy, you have a soft spot for Taehyung, his mysterious charm and boyish charisma; your friendship was almost instant.

But then Jungkook…

Your introduction was a blur of awkward hellos and unmet eyes. Every time you spoke to each other, it’s a nervous stutter from him or unwarranted silence from you. Worse, if the two of you happened to bump into each other in public, neither of you knew whether or not to say hi and commence a conversation like normal acquainted people, so it always ended up being an uncomfortably long pause before nodding out of courtesy then parting ways. It’s not like you belong to the same friendship group and see each other every week or anything.

Jungkook’s playful childisness shines brightly when surrounded by the boys, witch-cackle laugh and all. However, for some reason unbeknownst to anyone, this goofy side to him is immediately switched off in your presence, as if you’re the rain that extinguishes the flame of his candle. His body stiffens, eyes widen, voice stammers. Which only leads you to mirror his behaviour.

‘He’s just really uncomfortable around girls.’ Jimin has tried to offer the only plausible explanation. ‘Poor kid went to an all boys’ school his whole life, has only ever had one girlfriend who dumped him on their one year anniversary. Your femaleness scares him.’

That would be kind of cute, you guess, if you weren’t also a socially-uncomfortable hermit who requires soft gentle prodding in order to befriend. Because then you become two logs sitting beside each other, neither willing to inch towards the other.

Forgive Jimin’s mistake of thinking that sharing a roof would change this. Because how wrong was he… If anything, it only led to increased timidity around each other.

When you first moved in, Jungkook was eager to help you carry and unpack everything, seeing as he is the most physically apt person in the house. So you thought that it was his first step towards you, and that your dynamic was finally making progress into becoming one that’s more comfortable. He even lingered around your room the first few days with Jimin to help you open all your cardboard boxes.

However, he has since struggled to utter more than five words to you. Which has continued forth until this day. In the morning rush to class, you never encounter him due to your proneness to punctuality and his to tardiness. If you ever do, it’s only ever just a quick good morning, noona without looking up from his cereal. You both enjoy the safety of your own rooms, hence rarely peak your head out unless it’s for food. Jimin is always the one to drag you out by the foot, even if its just to his room or the sofa to watch a film with him. You say drag, but really you just enjoy seeing Jimin all pouty and whiny and sucking up to you in order to earn precious quality time with you; you actually enjoy being around Jimin. It’s worse for Jungkook though because he has his own ensuite bathroom, orders Deliveroo instead of coming out to eat with you two, and only ever joins social gatherings that you’re also involved in if a high enough bribe is offered.

Hence the time you and Jungkook are exposed to each other gradually diminished over time despite being roommates. At first you only suspected, but now you know for a fact, that he is purposely avoiding you like the plague.

It baffles you, if Jimin’s theory is true, how he could possibly be scared of you, regardless of his shyness towards the female specimen. Look at you, you’re this soft-mannered, quiet-spoken creature with a meek presence. You have more reason to be intimidated by his melon-sized biceps and aggressive shouts that echo from his room when he’s gaming at 2am.

So due to this mutually reciprocated mousiness, this awkward friendship-but-not-quite thing, has never been overcome in these months.

This is not a result of lack of trying, at least from your end. You do try to talk to him, exerting enough friendliness to burst your balloon of introversion. And you suppose he does make as much effort as he can as well. He once left you a note telling you to help yourself to the leftover pizza in the fridge. On your birthday, he gave you a card in which he drew cute little cartoon illustrations of you three housemates and wrote a short message.

Happy birthday, Y/N noona!

You are such a kind person, I hope we can speak more.

Jungkook :)

You thought the exclamation mark and smiley face were above and beyond for his standards. It made you smile for the rest of the day.

.

It’s 6:23pm and your growling stomach is exacerbated by the cold that has made itself at home in your bones. You’ve always been an early dinner person while Jimin and Jungkook are the opposite.

You’ve managed to get a hold of Jimin through Taehyung; your FaceTime call with him lasted a total of twelve minutes before the connection got too poor that it hung up on its own. Berating Jimin for leaving you alone with Jungkook, especially in this snow storm where everyone is basically on house arrest, all he did was laugh at your feign annoyance. You know it isn’t Jimin’s fault but you still like to blame him for all the awkward predicaments that are bound to happen.

After this chapter of the book you’re reading, you’ll go out to the kitchen and make some dinner, you decide.

Wait a second... Do you even have enough food in the pantry to last a whole weekend? Particularly since Jungkook can easily demolish three bowls of rice and a whole pound of meat, and still have room for dessert?

Looking out the window, you realise it’s snowing way too hard for you to feel confident to pop to the nearest grocery store without slipping and dying.

Shit! What are you going to eat these few days? Especially since the electricity can cut any minute?

Just then, you hear the echo of the front door shutting. Oh no… Jungkook did not just go out in this weather. He probably noticed the lack of food as well and decided to go for a shop. You know what he’s like, he’s a boy who’s really certain of his capabilities, over certain in fact. He probably does not see the hazard of leaving the house in such heavy snow, especially in the evening. Because nothing stands in the way between Jungkook and Food.

Do you go after him? Hell, if you do, you would probably get lost somewhere and slowly freeze to your inevitable death. You can barely navigate in perfect daylight.

Scrambling for your phone, you begin searching for his number. You’ve embarrassingly only called him once, and that was when you and Jimin got locked out of the house after a pub night.

No one is picking up.

In fact, when you check your screen, you don’t even have signal. The blizzard must be getting so bad that it’s refracting the radio waves. Which means it’s even worse for Jungkook to be out right now.

He’s such an idiot. Why did he think it’s okay to just take a walk to the supermarket right now in the middle of a snow storm? You’re such an idiot. Why were you too lazy to stock up on food during the day?

You pace around your room, phone clutched in your hand in case you miraculously get signal somehow. How on earth would you explain to Jimin that your roommate, his friend, whom he left in your care since you’re his senior, went out in a blizzard to buy food that you were supposed to have gotten this morning, and ended up dead from hypothermia?

Are you overreacting? Surely you’re overreacting. Everything is going to be fine! Deep breaths.

He’s going to come back any minute now and see you losing your mind over nothing. Right? Right.

Jungkook isn’t going to die. You’re being paranoid. Ridiculous. Overly anxious as usual.

But you can’t help yourself from pressing your face against your window to try to peek outside for a sign of him. The glass is ice cold against your skin, and it sends a blood-chilling shock through your veins. You can barely make out any shapes in the sea of greys and whites.

If you can’t even see out the window, how is he walking outside right now?

Screw it, you’re going to find him.

You’re a tornado getting dressed, whipping on your massive faux-fur lined puffer coat over two layers of fleece. A pair of gloves, double layer of socks, snow boots. Useless phone and hand warmers shoved in your pockets, you storm out of the house.

The cold that greets you burns up your nostrils and painfully invade your lungs. Snow is flying directly at your face, and you’re barely sheltered by your hood as you feel the icy flakes stab at your skin and melt away. Step by wary step, you steadily walk off your porch, careful not to slip. Your heart leaps out of your chest when your feet sink down at least 10 inches of snow, your squeal is muffled by the scarf you’re using as a ski mask.

It’s now been at least 10 minutes since he’s left. Jungkook is a fast walker, but in the snow, perhaps you could catch up with him.

The flickering lamp posts light up the night, but they may as well not be working because all you can see is white. Barely able to keep your eyes open, and batting away the heavy wind that’s threatening to blow you over, you trek in the direction of the local supermarket.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you realise that you don’t recognise the way anymore. Everything is a blur of snow. The cars, houses, street signs. All snow. Google maps is failing you; you’ve given up removing your gloves each time, your fingers instantly freezing at the exposure, to zoom in or rotate the navigation which keeps hopping from location to location.

You’re utterly and undeniably - lost.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you just plop down on your ass in defeat.

Where the hell are you? Where the hell is Jungkook?

Fear and frustration bubbles in your chest. It must have been half an hour now since you left the house. Surely he should be back, and surely he would’ve intercepted you on the way. That could either mean one of two possibilities: he got lost, slash, injured, slash, died on his way, or you have somehow strayed from the route to the store and he’s now frantically searching for you.

The lump in your throat festers into a ball of panic and despair. Looking around you, there’s absolutely no one. Just eerily-still buildings and snow-hidden cars. The only sound is the howl of the winter gust and your own uneven breathing.

You’re scared, and cold, and alone.

Why the hell did you think you could find him in this snow storm? You watch your warm visible exhale disperse in the icy air, the stinging of desperate tears piercing the back of your eyes. What are you supposed to do now?

And then it hits you. Perhaps you could trace your steps back since your feet have imprinted a trail in the snow. Looking behind you, you see that the downpour of snow has already began filling the footprints nearest to you. You’re praying that they haven’t already entirely covered your earlier steps closer to the house.

Gathering yourself together, you exert a lot of effort to stand up from the ground. Your butt is now wet, and a damp chill is seeping into your underwear. Determined, you follow your footsteps, which are growing fainter, back home.

You’re hoping you recognise the way now, that you’re not just convincing yourself that the street looks familiar.

Then an awful realisation hits you.

Both your hands are stuffed into your pockets, holding those hand-warming packets and your phone. But not your keys. You forgot your keys.

‘Fuck!’ Cursing is rare for you, but anyone would probably deem this situation as a very reasonable one to swear at.

Hot gushes of tears begin flooding down your face, painting streaks of cold that freeze over in a matter of seconds. How could you be this dumb? The snow is getting heavier right now. Checking the time on your phone, it’s 7 o’clock. The streetlights are dimming due to the weather, and the pitch dark night is starting to settle in around you.

You sink to a crouch.

This is it then, you guess. You’ve met your inexorable demise, rooted from your own stupidity. And Jungkook.

You can’t believe you’re going to die trying to find Jungkook in a goddamn snow storm.

The quiet sobs and sniffles that escape you are muted by the hood around your ears. A shiver overtakes your body as your muscles tremble as a last attempt to keep you alive. Your whole face is numb, teeth clattering, eyes clamped shut to stop the tears from freezing on your cheeks.

‘Noona?’

The voice is muffled but you recognise it instantly. Your eyes fly open to see a pair of shoes halted in front of you. You look up.

And there Jungkook is, eyes wide in shock, quivering lips parted in concern, carrying four plastic bags full of food and supplies. The streetlight situated directly behind him shines a halo around his head, painting a heavenly image of him. You’ve never been more glad to see anyone in your life.

Unable to contain yourself, you fling your ice-stiffened arms around his waist and bury your face in his coat-clad torso. Your knees give in and hit the ground. New tears spring from your eyes, but this time it’s tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of gratitude. A surge of his warmth washes over you, and all of a sudden, the cold cannot touch you.

‘W-What happened? Are you- Are you okay?’ Jungkook is rooted to the ground, he wants to wrap an arm around your small head or help you up but his hands are full with the groceries.

Gripping his sleeves, you tug yourself up to face him. You probably look like a mess, red eyes, nose and cheeks. But you don’t care. Jungkook is alive, you’re alive, and you’ve found each other. ‘Yeah, I’m fine, Jungkook. Everything is fine.’

‘You’re crying, noona.’ His ears are neatly tucked under his black knitted beanie.

‘Not anymore, I’m good now.’ Ferociously wiping the liquids profusely leaking out of your orifices, you give him the biggest grin your frozen cheek muscles would allow. ‘Let’s go home. Do you need help with the bags?’

‘No, don’t worry about them.’

Standing an inch apart, you walk side by side following his lead, assuming he knows the way. The material of your coats scrape at each other when either of you leans a bit too far towards the other.

‘What are you doing out here though?’ He asks quietly.

What are you doing out here? How do you give him an explanation that does not depict you as an idiot? Because once again, you’ve been stupid and dramatic and stressed over absolutely nothing. It’s twice in the same day now that you thought one of your roommates have died. When both of them turned out to be alive and well.

‘Um… Well, I thought it was dangerous for you to go outside alone in this weather, especially since it’s getting dark... I tried calling you but had no signal so, uh, I decided to... uh, come out to find you…’ Embarrassment begins to creep it’s way to your senses, it claws digging into your skin.

You peak at him in your peripheral vision to see him stiffen, eyes eerily focused on the snowy path in front. What is he thinking? Is he going to laugh at you? Think you’re dumb? Find you weird and obsessive?

‘Oh… Um.’ Clearing his throat, he glances at you and you quickly look away. Flustered. ‘You didn’t have to, I’m fine. I know this neighbourhood like the back of my hand, noona.’

‘Yeah, but you took so long. I got worried…’ You whisper the last bit.

An awkward pause is birthed. Your fists tighten around the hand warmers in your pockets.

‘I- I’m sorry for worrying you, noona.’ You hear his own fists tighten around the handle of bags as well, the plastic crinkling. ‘The supermarket around the corner was shut so I had to find another one that wasn’t. I made it just in time, though, right before this one closed as well. Then I also had to find a store that sells those so-’ He stops abruptly when he realises that he’s rambling.

‘Sells what?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Jungkook mumbles.

Another silence. The night has fallen, looking around, if it isn’t for the scarce light casted by the lamp posts, everything would be pitch dark. You’re so glad you’re not alone. Worse come to worse, you would’ve had to knock on these random houses and beg them to take you in for the night.

‘Wait,’ he says, ‘That doesn’t explain why you were crying.’

Well, crap. What are you supposed to say?

‘Uhh… Well, I got lost and my phone wasn’t working, so… I just kinda panicked.’ If your face wasn’t red from the cold and embarrassment from before, it definitely is now. You feel the blood pumping to your head, enough to make you sway a little.

‘Oh shit. I’m sorry, that was all my fault. I- I should’ve told you I was popping out in the first place. Ugh, noona, I’m sorry.’ You’ve never seen him display much emotion towards you, but currently, seeing him so alive with exasperation… It’s kind of endearing.

Screw earlier, this is the longest conversation the two of you have had, ever.

‘No, Jungkook, stop apologising. It wasn’t your fault at all!’

To be fair, you couldn’t have wandered that far if Jungkook found you on his way back from whatever shop he went to; you must’ve been close at least.

And so you two arrive safely to your house. Carefully wobbling up the porch slippery with slush, you stop in front of the door.

He looks at you expectantly. ‘Keys, noona?’ Of course, his hands are full.

Here you are, thinking you could’ve gotten away with not telling him you had moronically left your keys at home. ‘Um, I forgot to bring them with me.’ You utter, then add. ‘I was in a hurry.’

For a second, Jungkook looks like he’s about to tell you off for endangering yourself with such stupidity. But he just lets out a half-laugh half-sigh and bites down on his lip. ‘Mine are in my left, no, right back jean pocket.’

Right. He is asking you to get his keys from his back pocket.

His back pocket.

You freeze.

You’ve never so much as touched Jungkook, if you don’t count brushing shoulders. Hugging him back there was purely out of hysteria, which you retracted from the second you registered your action. Now, you’re going to grope his ass. This day just keeps getting you more familiar with him, doesn’t it?

Gulping, you suck up your cowardice and slide your hand into his back pocket, intentionally not looking at him while doing so. The firmness of his buttcheek fits snugly in your palm while your index finger hooks around his keyring. And what the hell, you strangely get the urge to squeeze it.

You yank your hand out of there before it can betray you and act on that impulse. Glimpsing up, you see that his cheeks are also crimson as he stares up at the ceiling a little too attentively.

.

After changing into some warm dry clothes and setting your snow-dampened ones on the radiator, you go out to the kitchen to see Jungkook cooking some ramen, which doesn’t come as a surprise as he practically lives off them. He’s dressed in sweatpants and a black hoodie; after cupping his ass through his back pocket, you can’t help but notice how round his rear is, especially in those bottoms.

God, what is wrong with you? You cannot seriously be checking Jungkook’s ass out.

This time his hood his down, and you appreciate how fluffy his hair is starting to grow. You can’t help but wonder what it sme-

Woah.

Why are you thinking so much about Jungkook?

Truth be told, that scare he gave you just now opened your eye as to how much you actually care about him. Despite never really saying much to each other, you guess you’ve grown a sort of fondness for him that you didn’t realise you have. It’s only natural; you have known each other for close to a year now, and half of which was spent under the same roof. Of course you would worry for his well being, you tell yourself.

The kitchen fan must be blocking his hearing because he doesn’t sense your approach, he’s singing softly to himself. He’s got a lovely voice, both your roommates do. But whereas Jimin sings loudly and proudly, Jungkook only does so in the shower or when he doesn’t think anybody is listening.

When he notices you finally, you’re peering over his shoulder. He jumps. You jump. The chopsticks he’s using to stir the noodles fly out of his hands, clattering on the counter.

‘Oh jeez, you scared me.’ He picks up the chopsticks.

‘Sorry.’ You squeak and take a step back when you realise your proximity.

‘Haha…’ He chuckles nervously, embarrassed. ‘Noona, you like jajangmyeon, right?’

Do you like jajangmyeon? You live and breathe jajangmyeon. You can’t go a week without jajangmyeon. You’ve had it for breakfast, lunch and dinner before all in one day. Those noodles in that sauce… Mmm…

‘Yeah, they’re my favourite.’ Is all you say though, you figure he probably doesn’t care for a whole speech about your love for them. Surely he knows at this point, there isn’t a single day in this house where the ramen cupboard is devoid of jajangmyeon.

‘Great, I’m making you some.’

Oh. Jungkook is cooking for you. A warmth creeps into your cheeks, and you’re not sure why.

‘You don’t have to, Jungkook. Just cook for yourself, I’ll make myself dinner after you.’ But then your stomach chooses now to bellow aloud like a bullfrog traitorously. You look at him, abashed.

A smile is playing at his lips, though he’s trying not to show it.

‘Go sit down, noona. It’ll be ready in a second.’ His eyes are fixed on the bubbling water, chopsticks hauling up the softening noodles to check their texture. Though you’ve never tasted his cooking, you don’t doubt ramen mastery, so you nod compliantly.

The bags of shopping are half unpacked on the dining table, so you decide to finish sorting them out. He’s bought gimbap, bread, cheese, some salad, mostly food that doesn’t require cooking; you can tell he has thought ahead for the potential blackout.

Then something else in the bag catches your eye.

‘Dinner’s ready.’ Jungkook carries two bowls of brown noodles, garnished with sausage and cucumber, just the way you like it.

He sets the bowls opposite each other on the end of the table that’s not packed with groceries. This feels extremely weird and domestic. Although you live together, you don’t remember the last time you’ve had a meal together on this table, just the two of you without Jimin. Yet now, you’re about to eat jajangmyeon that he cooked for you, right across each other. Extremely weird.

‘Thank you so much for cooking, Jungkook.’ You bow your head at him politely and take a seat opposite him.

‘You’re welcome, noona.’ He also mirrors your action. You can kind of understand why it must be so annoying to Jimin how you’re so formal to each other, it must sound so forced and awkward.

Which is what this meal is going to be. Forced and Awkward.

Jungkook waits for you to take the first bite before digging, which you have to do so without rolling your eyes back and moaning out loud in satisfaction. Jajangmyeon tastes so flipping good! Your one and only true love.

You’re too focused on slurping down the noodles that you don’t notice him smiling fondly at the rare sight of you so blatantly excited.

The meal goes by quietly, neither of you are talkers to begin with, much less while eating. Whether it’s because it’s your favourite dish, or because it’s a freezing cold winter day, or even maybe because it’s Jungkook’s own cooking, the food tastes especially scrumptious.

‘This is delicious.’ Your eyes are practically glowing at him; he shys away from the praise by sipping on his can of coke. Who drinks coke in this weather? A smile stretches your lips at the oddity of this boy’s taste.

Jungkook mumbles a thanks, avoiding your eye as usual. But the jajangmyeon has put you in a good mood, you’re feeling rather chatty actually. ‘Also, Jungkook, I saw you bought-’ You dig into one of the grocery bags and pull out what you spotted earlier.

‘Oh yeah.’ Jungkook stares at the two-pack of fluffy socks in your hand, wearing a slightly mortified expression. ‘Um… I thought... you could do with some new ones.’

Surprised, your whole body tenses. You had thought he bought them for himself after seeing you wear yours so comfortably. All thought flaps away from your mind like a flock of frightened birds, leaving an empty field. He- Why- What do you-

‘Oh.’ Clearing your throat, you murmur. ‘Wow, thank you so much.’ Unable to look at him for any longer, your eyes fall onto your noodles. Your hand holding the socks drop onto the table at the weight of his kindness. Then a realisation creeps up on you. ‘Wait… They don’t sell these socks in supermarkets…’

Glancing up, you find him fiddling with his fingers nervously. ‘Uh. I went to another shop that does.’

Knots upon knots begin to tie in your stomach. So that’s why he took so long out there, not only did he have to find another supermarket that was open, he also searched for a store that sells fuzzy socks. For you.

Why do you feel so warm everywhere?

When you fall into a silent trance of your own thinking, Jungkook gets worried. ‘Noona, do you not like them? Did I get the wrong ones?’

‘No, no, no!’ You frantically dispute, forcing yourself to look at him. ‘These are perfect! I’m just surprised… and touched. That’s all. Jungkook, you really didn’t have to.’ The fabric of the socks feel heavenly to touch, your thumb sinks into the clouds of its softness. Truly, this has taken you by surprise and you don’t know how to react.

‘It’s okay…’ Redness blooms across his cheeks like drops of watercolour.

First he cooks you your favourite meal, then he buys you fuzzy socks? Is this the same Jungkook you’ve been living with all these months?

‘No, here…’ You rip open the card of the packet and snap the plastic wire that holds the four socks together. ‘Take a pair, I only need one anyway.’

At you waving the socks in front of him, he leans back in refusal, shaking his head and muttering a string of no no no’s. You’re not at all a strong-willed person by any means, but you’re not backing down on this, not when he’s been so lovely to you all night. When he realises that you won’t take no for an answer, he sighs, scratching the back of his ears. ‘Okay, okay. You can have the mint ones.’

One pair is mint and the other is pink. You blink. He wants the pink ones?

When he realises what must be going through your head, he quickly says, ‘Mint is your favourite colour right?’

Mint is your favourite colour. Though how does he know? All your possessions are in a variety of pastels: baby blue, cotton candy pink, mint green and lilac purple. He couldn’t have possibly guessed…?

‘Yes, it is… But I seriously don’t mind if you want the mint ones, I’m not gonna make you take the pink ones.’

‘No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.’ Jungkook snatches the pink fluffy socks from you before you can argue and stuff them onto his lap.

Your heart does a little thing that you can’t describe.

The two of you finish your dinner in silence, mirroring each other with one hand gripping the socks ever so tightly and the other hand picking up the noodles with your chopsticks. Awkwardly, Jungkook take a glimpse at you. A tiny smear of sauce stains the corner of your mouth.

Does he tell you? It would make it awkward though, wouldn’t it? But then again, it would be worse for you to find out yourself when you look in the mirror and think that he didn’t tell you you have sauce on your face.

‘Sauce.’ He accidentally says before he could finish formulating what he’s going to say to you. Shit. What’s wrong with him? Why did he say it like that? In response to your confused expression, he gestures dumbly at the corner of his own mouth.

Instantly a blush flames across the apples of your cheeks. You are about to wipe it away with your sleeve when you realise a second too late that you’re wearing a white sweater.

Your hand dangles a centimetre from your face, wrist caught in Jungkook’s fingers as he notices the mistake in your action before you. His whole body is leaned over the table in order to reach you. Wide eyes locked on each other, neither of you dare to move at his sudden outburst of motion towards you.

‘Um.’ He peeps. ‘Careful, I’ll do it, noona.’

Before you can register, he lets go of your arm allowing it to fall onto your lap. When his index knuckle brushes against the end of your mouth, a wave of shock zaps down your spine. Your heart lurches down an abyss at how soft his skin feels on your sensitive lips. Then his touch is gone, leaving a warmth tingling in his wake.

As he looks around for something to wipe his finger on, pupils round like a puppy, your eyes refuse to leave him. Thank you sits at the tip of your tongue but your throat is too clogged to utter a sound. The clockworks are trying to turn in your brain but all you can focus on is Jungkook.

How is he this nice, kind, gentle boy? And how have you completely missed this about him? In fact, why have you been so demure with him when he’s… an angel?

Watching his tongue poke at the inside of his cheek, a much scarier thought dawns on you.

Do you have a crush on Jungkook?

.

White screen glaring at you, the words of your unfinished essay frowns at your lack of attention in disapproval. You can’t write about Jane Austen’s exploration of feminism when Jungkook has overtaken your capacity to concentrate on anything other than him.

The radiator by your desk acts as your foot rest, blazing the pleasant heat up your legs. Ever few seconds, your eyes would wander to those mint green fuzzy socks you’re wearing, so brand new that its fluff caresses your toes like a flower bed. Just the thought that he went out of his way to replace your old hole-ridden pair…

Stop.

Jane Austen. Focus.

But the phantom touch of his finger sweeping across the plump of your bottom lip is etched on your skin, the picture of his doe eyes staring at your mouth refusing to leave your memory.

What has happened to you? How have you just swung from two extremes: from hardly able to speak a word to him without stuttering, to daydreaming about his kindness towards you?

The cold is making you delirious. It has to be this godforsaken cold, because why else would you all of a sudden be so flustered from the thought of Jungkook?

You take a long hard sip of your coffee, and mark it as a new leaf. From now on, no more thinking about anyone else other than Jane Austen. Pushing up your sleeves, you straighten your slouching back and face the monster of you assignment head on.

Not 5 minutes later, your desk lamp begins to flicker. You throw it a quick glance as your fingers type on your keyboard. Weird, you just changed the bulb a few weeks ago. Nevermind it.

Then all of a sudden, all the lights in your room go out. Frowning, you get up and try the switch several times to no avail. Peaking outside your room, all that greets you is a cold darkness. So you turn on the flashlight on your phone and try other light switches of the house. Nothing. Even the heat begins to seep away from the heaters as they dim to a cool. Oh no, right now?

Using your phone as a torch, you pad towards Jungkook’s room and open his door before you can remember to knock. Perhaps your anxiety has overridden your common sense and courtesy. Unfamiliar with the orientation of his room, you trail your side against the wall to guide you.

‘Jungkook? I think the power’s ou-’

Your phone shines onto a tall silhouette, illuminating a view that makes you shriek and stumble back.

There he is, standing with a white towel around his waist, beads of water splattered across his naked body and dripping rapidly out his wet slicked back hair. The swell of his biceps catch your attention first, lined with prominent veins running all the way down to his large hands placed on his hips. Which leads your gaze to the illustrious v of his hips that arch down to-

Without meaning to, your eyes travel down to this bulge. His hefty unmissable bulge. The towel protrudes out like a tiny hill, and you want to scream at it.

If you had a drink in your mouth right now, you would surely spit it out all over him and choke to your death. But you don’t, so all that comes out of you is a strangled cat noise. Looking away from that sinful area as quickly as you can, you arrive at his face - shocked, alarmed and confused. Your cheeks burning in the flames of hell, you spin away hastily to sprint out of his room in horror.

Except you run into the wall.

The impact hits your forehead and thankfully not your nose. Phone flung onto the ground with the light facing up, you fall onto you knees clutching at the eruption of pain. But nothing hurts more than your pride and image.

‘Noona!’ One hand securing the towel covering his manhood and preserving his dignity, he scrambles over to help you despite himself.

You flinch away at his hand on your shoulder because he is now right beside you. And it’s as if you’ve zoomed in too far on a picture because his nakedness is suddenly magnified 100x. You want to Ctrl Z yourself out of his room and back into your own desk. Because what. the. hell.

What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?

Transfixed on the ridges of this abdomen, you cannot focus on anything other than the way his muscles groove up and down so smoothly to form a six pack. Shadows casted by the flashlight sculpting more definition onto his marble chest. Goosebumps are raised on his blemishless skin, which you almost want to stroke away with your warmth.

‘I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.’ You chant cataleptically in a daze. It’s more for your own reassurance than his. His bare upper body needs to let you breathe.

‘Are you sure?’ His concern is apparent in his expression, eyes examining your entire face for your injury.

‘Yes, yes.’ Desperately wanting to shoo him away, you wince at the pulsing ache burgeoning in your forehead.

‘I’m sorry.’ You both say in unison, though neither of you understand why the other is apologising.

Though he seems abashed about being shirtless, his humiliation comes nowhere near your level. Why isn’t he scrambling to put a shirt on?

To be fair Jungkook does seem awfully self conscious, you’ve caught him looking down at himself for about the fifteenth time now as he helps you up to your feet.

‘I’ll let you get dressed, sorry.’ Is all you say after snatching your phone off the ground, not even bothering to check for a cracked screen, before making your timely escape. This time more successful than the last.

Clutching your throbbing head, you race to your room and catapult onto your bed. The picture of a wet, shirtless Jungkook with only a towel to shield you from his crotch is now ingrained in your mind. You think shutting your eyes will help but you still see his divine abs behind your lids.

Holy shit.

What perhaps scares you more is how attracted you are to him. Since when did you find your roommate hot? This is shy, quiet Jungkook who plays overwatch until 4am. How dare he have a Greek God’s body to confuse you like this?

You need to stop thinking about his naked body right now.

Instead you check outside your window to see that the streetlights are off as well; it must be a blackout across the whole town, if not city. Without heating, the cold air begins to harshly sting your exposed skin. Panic starts to fester in your chest. How long can you last with no electricity whatsoever? You don’t even have phone signal, or something to charge your phone with except the one portable charger that may or may not be dead right now.

Though your door is wide open, Jungkook knocks on it politely outside your room. Which is what you should’ve done with him, you mentally scold yourself. Though he is now dressed in an oversized hoodie, your image of him is forever changed after seeing him fresh out the shower, hair still dripping. You blink hard in attempt to rid that thought.

‘Hi…’ He whispers. He’s holding two burning candles against his chest, their flames lighting up the underside of his sharp jaw.

‘Hi, come in.’

You can sense his hesitancy, the unease in the air between you, when he enters your room gingerly, feet clad in those pink fuzzy socks.

‘Sorry-’ You both say at the same time again, then release a breath of laughter. Mirth twinkles in his eyes, though his shyness does not stray from him.

‘I’m sorry for barging into your room like that.’ It’s an effort not to glance down at his adorable socks. ‘That was completely my fault, so don’t apologise.’

He swallows. ‘It’s okay, noona.’

His eyes hold yours for a solid moment before dispersing. A familiar blush is starting to paint your cheeks, you feel the heat from your chest blare up to your entire face. Unable to help imagining those solid muscles underneath his clothes, you tug at the hem of your sweater.

‘So,’ Jungkook places one of the candles on your desk. ‘This is for you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Instead of using the flashlight of your phone, use the candle or one of the torches I’ve put on the table outside to save your battery. I’ve checked the main fuse, it isn’t switching back on. Good thing is that we still have running water and plumbing, just no heating or any electricity.’ He glances at your own socks. ‘We need to use the water sparingly though or the reservoir will run out. From the shops, I’ve bought some food that we can eat without cooking like gimbap or sandwiches. There’s also a stash of hand warmers in the drawer of the TV stand if you’re cold.’

That’s a lot of words to come out of Jungkook’s mouth in one go, all spoken to you. What he’s saying is sinking in and relief washes over you, yet you can’t help but focus your attention on the way his lips move as he speaks. The dark red gleaming with lip balm, curving over each syllable so prettily.

‘That’s great, thank you.’ You finally snap out of it. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ That last sentence slips out of you before you could stop it.

Pupils widening a fraction, Jungkook’s lips part in reaction. Why did you tell him that? Maybe you should just lock yourself in your room after continuously embarrassing yourself tonight. But then he pulls into a smile that melts away the ice that’s numbing your limbs and burning your lungs. The front of his teeth slightly jutting out sweetly.

Again, a fondness tickles your chest.

‘Me too.’ The tingle spreads into a pulse that crushes your throat. Is that why they call it a crush?

You simply cannot suppress your own growing grin.

Jungkook begins to walk away, but then stops at your door and turns back. There’s a reluctance, an uncertainty to his slow movement as he faces you.

‘If… If you get too cold without the radiator… you can…’ His voice barely a husk. ‘You can come over to mine.’

Then he’s gone. The aura lit up by his candle gradually diminishes away from you as he walks down the hallway to his room.

Frozen in place, you’re not even sure if your heart is beating anymore. Those final words ring in your ear like wind chimes.

You can come over to mine.

Does he mean what you think he means? Is he offering to keep you warm during the night?

You watch the candle he’d placed on your desk, its flame mirroring the small fire kindling in your core for the boy who went out during a blizzard to buy you fuzzy socks so your feet don’t get cold.

On the other side of the wall, Jungkook is on the verge of combustion at his bold proposition to you, red burning the tips of his ears. Though the memory of the look of pure euphoria on your face when you took your first bite of jajangmyeon burns his heart hotter yet.

.

The cold is brutal and shows no mercy. Despite your tossing and turning and effort to warm yourself up, sleep does not grace you. Part of the blame goes to Jungkook, you have not been able to cease thinking about him and everything he has done tonight. It makes you reflect on all your past moments together, whether he has always been like this and you were only too closed off to pay heed.

Sitting up from your bed, you decide you won’t be able to fall asleep without extra warmth. You need hand warmers stuffed down your pyjamas.

So, muscles stiff from the cold, you clamber out the little warm burrow of your covers and head for the living room, forsaking any light since your vision has adapted to the dark. On your way there, you walk past Jungkook’s room. Without knowing why, your legs betray you and stop outside his door.

You can come over to mine.

The low rasp of his voice still echoes in your head, stirring your unwarranted feelings for him into a warm pot of honey.

Had he really meant it? Did he honestly invite you to his share his bed? Surely not - this is Jeon Jungkook you’re thinking of, he doesn’t even speak to you most days, can’t not cower away from your glare. And he also knows what you’re like, how it took you two whole months to even warm to all of Jimin’s friends, how you only recently stopped using honorifics with those older than you.

And surely he must be at least mildly aware of the lack of boys and romance in your life, living just down the hall from you. Jimin is the closest male friend you have, and even so, you aren’t completely comfortable with sleeping beside him.

But then… All that has transpired about Jungkook’s character tonight, how sweet and kind and thoughtful he is which completely falls outside your predictions of the boy…

You realise you want to know more, want to explore the depths and mysteries that is your strange roommate. This intangible force that has been building up in the mere hours you’ve spent together this cold winter’s night draws you to him.

So screw those hand warmers, they last way too short anyway. Who needs those fidgety packets when there’s a whole Jeon Jungkook next door?

Gathering all the courage you can muster, you knock on his door.

The wood sends tendrils of cold into your knuckles. There’s a pause at first which leaves you thinking that he’s asleep, and to be fair, this late at night he has every reason to be. You’re about to turn away and head forth down the hall when you hear sheets moving, followed by his muffled come in.

Timidly, you step into his room, mind still fresh with the memory of what had happened last time you entered here unannounced, mere hours ago. Let’s not think about that right now, shall we?

Jungkook is sat up in his bed, black hood engulfing half his head. A single scented candle lit on his bedside table beside him illuminates the whole room into a golden ochre hue, it smells of freshly washed sheets.

‘Hi…’ You peep out, stopping in front of his bed.

‘Everything ok, noona?’ His eyes are fixed on your face in wonder, but when you meet them, they dart to your socks.

‘Um, yes.’ How do you put this? How do you formulate those words? ‘I just… It’s absolutely freezing with the radiators not working. Maybe- D-’ You exhale shakily. He’s gaze slowly crawls back up to your face as he realises where you’re going with this. ‘You know how you suggested that we should… sleep tog- on the same bed… to keep each other warm…? Well...’

Jungkook blinks at you. For a heartbeat, all you want to do is curl up into a ball and roll out of here. You couldn’t even finish what you were saying because your jaw has simply refused to move, refused to let you carry on embarrass yourself.

Then, although he was already on one side of the bed, he scooches over to the left. He doesn’t look at you when he replies, ‘Of course.’

Your heart is pumping fast, almost making you choke on your constricting throat. Warily you clamber onto his bed, but stop when only your knee is on the mattress. The bed frame creaks. Jungkook is regarding you with an unreadable expression, nibbling on his bottom lip. ‘Wait, if this is weird, just tell me to go.’

‘N-No. It’s fine.’ Pulling the covers over his chest, he crosses his arms shyly. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, though you could be mistaken due to the odd lighting. ‘I was struggling to fall asleep from the cold as well.’ He adds when you don’t seem convinced.

Both of you are making this a bigger deal than it actually is, you are fully aware. It honestly pains you how awkward you two are with each other; if this were Jimin, he’d be dragging you onto his bed by the waist, letting you flounder about in his arms like a cat trying to escape before smothering you with his affection. But this is Jungkook. Quiet, shy, awkward Jungkook. Jungkook who hasn’t spoken more than ten words a day to you before the events of tonight even though you live together. Jungkook who you’re slowly learning more and more about during this blizzard.

Plus, he was the one who offered to share his bed earlier in the first place. This is fine, just fine. Act normal.

Overly conscious of how he’s watching your every movement carefully, you slowly burrow into the comfort of his bed. Immediately you’re enveloped in his residual body heat under the duvet. Now you realise that he moved over to the other side of the bed, the cold side, so you can relish in the warmth that he’s been collecting under these covers.

Why is Jungkook so… considerate?

Again, the same fuzzy feeling as before tugs at your heartstrings. Suddenly you want to reach out to him, but instead, you tug at your sleeves.

You’re both staring at the blank ceiling as if it is some fascinating art piece, with enough space between you to fit a Jimin. The candle has casted long grey shadows across the room, occasionally flickering haphazardly.

Everything that is currently whizzing through your head is driving you insane. This is actually happening. You are sharing a bed with Jungkook, the guy who you can’t even look in the eye when speaking to, your roommate who has only ever tried to avoid you. This day is a jack-in-the-box of Jungkook-themed surprises. What’s going to be next?

‘Feeling warmer, noona?’ He breaks the silence first, and you can’t help but glance over at him. His side profile is mostly masked by his hood, yet you can still see his jaw clenching. You can only imagine how uneasy he is currently feeling.

‘Yes.’ It’s barely a whisper you manage, so you clear your throat. ‘Much better Jungkook, thank you.’

Another silence. Though this is an improvement from before, you still feel a chill in your bones; the cold is a resilient pest that aches your muscles and numbs your face.

‘Should I blow out the candle then?’ You ask.

‘Oh right, yeah.’

You huff at the small flame but it refuses to go out, and you kind of don’t want it to as it provides a strong beacon of heat as its smoke licks at your face. You huff again. Still, it only wavers. You’re so cold that you don’t even have the strength to take out a candle. Peaking over at Jungkook, his eyes are locked on you patiently.

‘I’ll do it.’ He leans across the bed over you, you feel his warmth radiate into your proximity as his should hovers over your face. His scent, a clean soft musk, swims up your nose; you never noticed how pleasant he smells. The veins on his neck are protruding as he strains to reach over. When he extinguishes the candle with a single harsh blow, embarrassment rains on you.

Darkness enshrouds you two. As he returns to his position, you notice that he’s closer to you than before, now only less than a foot away. The sound of his breathing provides a steady rhythm that soothes your wild thoughts.

Though your social skills are subpar by nature, Jungkook has a way of magnifying your awkwardness. Should you say something? Good night? Thank him again?

Then you realise, he’s shivering. Of course, his hair must still be wet from his unfinished shower that was cut short by the blackout. God, he must be freezing.

‘You’re cold.’ You state, though you mean it more as a question.

‘I’m fine.’ Hums his response, yet his inhale is shaky.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you know what you’re going to do next is completely out of character and will require more guts than you actually possess. Your hand gropes at the space between you until you find his hand. It’s ice cold. Jungkook jumps at the contact and you hear him turn his head towards you. You hope his sight hasn’t adjusted to the dark yet so he can’t see how abashed you are.

‘You’re not fine.’ His fingers are stiff when you interlock yours between his. Everything is screaming inside you. What are you doing? What the heck? If Jimin were here to see this his jaw would drop all the way down to hell.

Unable to suppress the urge either, you also turn to look at him. In the dark, you can barely make out the outline of his face, the shape of his glossy eyes reflecting the moonlight seeping in through the window. Slowly, his fingers curl up around your hand. Your heart flips.

Blood roaring in your ears, you inch towards him like a frightened deer until your sides are pressed against each other. Your faces must be a hand’s width apart, but the darkness fuels you with a brazenness that allows you to not cringe away. His whole body tenses in response.

‘Better?’ Voice so soft he strains to hear you.

Jungkook nods, eyes never leaving yours. ‘Better.’ His response rumbles into your ear and percolate into your mind, and only now are you aware of how close he is.

An amalgamation of unidentifiable emotions stir inside you. You feel your own warmth trickle towards him as his does with you, and slowly his presence plucks away the cold you are plagued with.

‘Good night, Jungkook.’

‘Good night, Y/N noona.’

Though it’s only briefest of movements, you feel his thumb stroke over yours once, twice, as your eyelids fall shut.

The next morning, you wake up first with your head fitted cosily on his heavily breathing chest, his arm draped across your shoulder, shielding you from the chilly morning air.

.

The power still isn’t back on.

It’s now nearing 24 hours since the blackout first hit.

You’ve wasted the day wandering about the house, unsure of what to do with yourself. Though you tell yourself it’s the withdrawal symptoms from the internet, it’s mostly due to the fact that you slept next to Jungkook last night.

The earlier half of the day was spent subtly avoiding him because what the hell are you supposed to say to him? Do you just carry on your usual selves around each other or are you, like, friends now? You caught yourself watching him sleep this morning, serene breaths in and out through his nose. There’s a tiny mole under his lips that you’ve never noticed before. You had poked it with your pinky before you could stop yourself. And thankfully he’s a heavy sleeper, he didn’t even stir.

With more effort than you thought would require, you pried yourself out of his arms, a cold breeze instantly welcoming you in an embrace as you left his bed.

Those scenes keep replaying in your head: him finding you out in the blizzard, watching him cook you jajangmyeon, discovering that he when out of his way to buy you new sock, then walking in on him almost stark naked from the shower, and finally, falling asleep enveloped in his warm and scent.

You’re definitely crushing on him.

You’ve stopped denying it when you saw him meander wearily out his room at noon, bed head ruffled, eyes still droopy from sleep. Wordlessly, you had passed him the ham and cheese sandwich you prepared for yourself and you don’t even know why because you were absolutely starving.

The downpour of snow only stopped for a good 10 minutes this afternoon, a tiny window in which you poked your head out for some fresh air. Jungkook had tried to shovel away some snow to clear the porch, but quickly ran back inside when he saw your worried face plastered to the window watching him.

There isn’t much either of you can do with no electricity, no internet, no television, trapped indoors. So you occupy your day curled up on the couch, nose buried in a novel, completely immersed in that beautifully crafted fictional world.

Until Jungkook walks out in a white t-shirt and shorts.

Your eyebrow raises, peeking at him from behind the pages.

‘I’m gonna work out here, if you don’t mind. There isn’t enough space in my room.’ He scratches the back of his head.

‘Sure.’ You exhale, knowing your demise is looming over your head like a storm cloud. A lot of self control is exercised in order to not ogle at his calves.

Training your eyes at the novel in front of you with great determination, you turn the page. The first minute is easy enough, you just have to angle your book to block your view of him. But then his breathing grows heavier, panting every rep. At that, you can’t help but glimpse past the corner of your page.

Oh Lord. He’s doing push ups.

Though his biceps are mostly covered by his sleeves, the muscles of his forearms tensing at every contraction catch you eye. You marvel at the way his tendons flex out, and the way his serpentine of veins snake down his hands.

Jeez.

Then he lets out an unholy grunt, setting your whole skin on aflame. Scarlet stains your cheeks, you’re sure of it. But the sinful sounds do not stop. Sweat his now seeping through his shirt, rendering the material transparent down his back. And his ass…

You snap your focus back to your novel.

Just in time as well because he stops onto his knees, head falling back as he sits on his ankles, panting. His neck is shimmering with his perspiration, droplets trickling down like a brook.

Jungkook glances over at you to see you reading intently, jaw clenched from what he guesses is due to the excitement of the plot.

But then you stand up so abruptly that it startles him. You can’t sit here and spy on his workout any longer, you physically cannot take it. Not to mention, it makes you feel so awful, like you’re perving on the poor clueless boy who only wants to break a sweat.

The both of you just stare at each other, flustered for different reasons. His breathing slows.

‘I’m gonna-’ You don’t know where you’re going with the sentence. Gulp. ‘Uh, see you later.’

Scampering away into your room, you don’t wait for his response. Why are you panting heavier than he is when he’s the one exercising? Your book is pressed tightly against your pounding chest as you lean your back on your door. Your legs give way and you slowly slide down onto the cool floor.

There’s one thing you know for sure.

Jeon Jungkook is not good for your heart.

.

It’s almost midnight and Jungkook is standing outside your door. Fist clenched, inches away from rapping on the wood, but completely frozen in action.

Just do it, idiot. He scolds himself.

After an ice cold post-workout shower, this time early enough so he doesn’t have to sleep with wet hair, you both had gimbap for dinner. It was an excruciatingly silent meal which he blames himself for, though he can’t help the way his tongue gets tied every time he wishes to speak to you.

And now, bed time, he is at a dilemma of whether or not to ask to sleep with you again. It may come across as too forward coming from a guy, he doesn’t want to scare you. But he also knows that he will be missing the warmth of your body beside him if he goes to bed alone.

Jungkook sighs and lets his hanging hand fall to his side.

If you wanted to, you would have gone to his room anyway. Might as well save the awkward rejection and just take this as a no.

However, your door suddenly swings open. He’s confronted with a pyjama-wearing, baby-faced you, flinching back a step at the surprising sight of him.

‘Op- I was just....’ His sentence falls flat. He was just what?

‘I was just coming to find you.’ You mutter, eyes softening if he isn’t mistaken. A flood of relief rushes at him, so you were planning on coming to him tonight.

Wordlessly, you pad after him to his room. Everything is dark but you see his figure clearly in front of you. It gives you a false sense of confidence which leads you to trip over his charger wire you so clumsily missed.

You don’t know how he reacts so quickly to your yelp of distress, but he turns around in time to catch your outstretched arms by the elbows. ‘Watch out.’ Feet fumbling over each other, he stumbles back onto his bed as you fall onto him. The weight of your bodies sink down onto the mattress.

Hard muscle cushions your fall. Chests pressed against each other, you don’t realise your hands have instinctively circled around his shoulders for balance. Your nose is touching his fabric of his collar, his musk instantly overriding your senses. When you look up, his eyes are a crystal clear pool somehow reflecting the constellations of the night sky in this darkness. His breath caresses your forehead. Your gaze drops to his mouth, pink and parted.

You want to kiss him, you realise. So badly. Every fibre of your being is currently yearning to meet his lips, longing to know whether he tastes better than he smells.

But then your limbs are moving for you, propping yourself up and off him. Your own mouth forms and quiet ‘sorry’ as you shuffle under the sheets. It’s as if you’re watching your own actions through your eyes, controlled by your logic rather than desire. You couldn’t let yourself kiss him.

Jungkook silently squirms into his bed beside you, unwilling to look your direction as much as you’re averse to his.

So this is how it’s going to be again. Two sleeping logs next to each other.

There’s an ache of regret in your heart for being so timid. Annoyance at yourself drips down your throat, fist clenching at the sheets. You should’ve kissed him right then and there, consequences be damned. When will you get another chance? But perhaps it was fate. You have no idea how he would’ve reacted; the pessimist in you thinks he would’ve been disgusted. Yes, it was fate. It was right not to have kissed him.

Wait, no. A boldness suddenly pours down on you. Shyness and introversion has gotten you nowhere before, and it will not help your situation now.

‘Jungkook.’ Your voice comes out crisp and clear.

‘Hm, Noona?’

‘I’m still cold.’ Turning to face him, you see innocent confusion settle in his expression. The sound of your thumping pulse has reached your ears, your heart is a speeding motor flying off to find him. ‘Come closer.’

The shadow of his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. His focus does not stray from you as he slides across the bed hesitantly.

‘Closer.’

He edges further towards you. You can now just about make out the shape of the scar that flecks his left cheek.

‘Closer.’

This time, his exhale tickles your neck. Warm bodies touching, confusion and perturbation cloud his glassy orbs as he scans your face for an answer to the plethora of questions swimming in his head.

‘Thank you.’ You breathe, though it feels like no air is entering you. You can’t believe what you’re doing. This close to him, you’re entire being bathes in his presence, his aura; a familiar tingling ails your soul as your eyes flicker to his lips.

Every single muscle in Jungkook is frozen in shock, unsure of what is going on and why the sudden change in your demeanour towards him. And when you turn onto your side away from him and inch by inch back your body onto his front, his heart

stops

beating.

Nose buried in your floral-scented hair, vacillating thoughts tell him to put his arm around your waist and hold you close to him. You sense his unsureness in the way his hand rests on your side and pauses for too long before pulling you into his chest.

His frame engulf yours, the curve of your back lining perfectly with his. You feel safe, protected. His furnace touch on your waist burns through the thick fabric of your jumper and seeps into your core. The effect he has on you is nothing you’ve ever experienced before, and neither have you ever been in this position with anyone. Although it isn’t much, merely just cuddling, this feels so remarkably intimate and intense, like you’ve finally stepped through a threshold built into the emotional wall that towers between you and him.

You’re not entirely sure if you’re breathing.

Despite being the one to instigate this, you’re awfully apprehensive, not daring to even twitch incase it rattles him and sets him scrambling away. The two of you are like a pair of squirrels, slowly approaching to sniff each other, curious yet easily frightened.

His hot breath rushes down your spine like smoke. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking. Is he as nervous as you? Do you feel comfortable to him as he does to you? Or is he already falling asleep?

You should close your eyes and try to. Though who are you kidding? You’d never manage to catch a wink when you’re an accidental turn of a face away from kissing him, at least not right away anyway, not until you calm yourself down with a mental meditation exercise or something.

The urge to check if he’s indeed asleep is yanking at you, but you use all your willpower to resist, not wanting to risk rousing him when he’s as skittish as you.

But then you feel it.

Him.

It’s subtle at first, just a gentle pressure at your bottom.

Innocent and untainted as you are, you don’t even realise what it is at first, so you shift your hips unconsciously.

Then it’s stiffness grows, and grows, until it’s a baton poking at your rear.

Something in your core ignites, your chest constricts, and a wildfire of lust you’ve never felt before smoulders from your scalp to your toes before finally rooting itself in your sex. Ten hells, Jungkook’s boner is touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner and it’s touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner because of you and it’s touching your ass.

Your brain is devoid of all senses except a formidable hunger for him. Suddenly, though he’s almost surrounding you completely, the only thing you can feel is his hard member prodding you.

Is he asleep or not, you need to know.

Then a strange force possesses your lower half, and like a puppet on a string, your ass sinks back further onto him until his length is tunnelled between your cheeks.

The softest moan escapes him, almost a gasp even.

You think he’s going to say something, move away or stand up and leave. Instead he pulls himself away and slowly thrusts forward again. His clothed length slides smoothly up your crack, brushing ever so slightly over your slit. It sends a wave of arousal convulsing up your core, so powerful you almost choke.

Continuing to encourage him, your hips move in tandem with his, rubbing your ass all over his pulsing erection, occasionally letting it slide between your thighs against your clit. A pleasured mewl escapes, though you’re not sure who from. You’ve never felt anything like this, the ruin that overtakes your core at the friction. This is a divine sensation, luxury of the gods.

Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist as his pace increases, his breathing slowly shifting into wavering panting. Finally you succumb to the urge to twist around to look at him. Your heart erupts at the pure devastation contorting his face. His brows angled in pleasure, teeth clamped down on his lip to suppress those unholy noises, lids hanging heavy at the weight of his thirst for you. When his eyes lock on yours, something unleashes in him and devours you wholly.

Fire and ice. His lips feel like both fire and ice. Fire because your entire mind is burning at his smoothness, fuelled by your unkempt want for him to take over you. Ice because everything that isn’t him feels numb and insignificant, and your feelings for this man holding you is the purest flake of snow.

Your first kiss, and it’s already the best kiss you’ll ever have, you’re sure. Because the way his lips meld onto your, the desperation in the way he leans so far into you, the heat of his arousal forging it’s mark between your legs. Nothing in this world can top that.

‘Noona.’ He sighs into you. It drives you absolutely insane.

Fingers grappling in his wavy locks, you reposition yourself completely to face him. His length twitches against you as your leg swings behind him to pull him closer. He is holding your neck with a heartbreaking delicacy, thumb stroking your jaw like it’s the most fragile of chinas.

‘Jung-’ You whimper. ‘Koo…’

Tasting of mint, his tongue gently laps at yours when you open for him. You’re drowning in his essence, lungs filling with his air, though you welcome your sweet painless death like it’s a heavenly gift.

Knowing his docile nature, you move his hand underneath your top, giving him permission to roam freely on your skin. He snakes around your back and circles around your front before finally meeting your sore breasts. As he kneads them tenderly, you feel a warmth ooze out of you into a puddle of concupiscence in your pants.

Oh God.

Your own hands wander beneath his hoodie, raking up the bumps of his god-sculpted abdomen and taking hold of his muscular chest. His wet kisses are a drug, and you’re completely and utterly under its control.

‘Jungkook, I want you.’ You moan.

When his eyes fly open, you’re met with pools of desire, seething into you like jets of lust. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d experience him like this, covetous for you and withering under your touch.

‘Noona… Fuck.’ He trembles as your hand travels down his navel, daring to slide under the band of his sweatpants. ‘I want you so bad, noona.’

The whimper that leaves his mouth when you palm him through his boxers sends a flood of yearning down to your core.

Holy shit.

He feels…

Massive.

Heavy with girth, only about half of his length fits in your palm. You have to stretch your fingers in order to fully encompass him. He is fully at your disposal, groaning, grip tightening on you.

As he huffs into the edge of your jaw, his own hand comes down to find your pussy pulsing for his touch. When his touches your clothed slit, a compulsion forces your hips to buckle forwards. And when he begins to rub circles right on that tender spot, waves upon waves of ecstasy hit you.

Whining like an animal, your head falls back at the newfound pleasure he’s showing you. With you neck presented so openly to him like a platter of dessert, he plants dulcet kisses onto you, his gentleness kindling your fire for him. Despite your attempt to wind your focus back to him, your grip on his erection slackens at his vibrations on your cunt.

‘Can I?’ Jungkook whispers into your ear, softness tickling your lobe. You don’t waste a second before nodding eagerly.

Then his fingers slide underneath your panties. Sensitivity explodes at the contact between the pad of his thumb and your clit. A string of moans release from you. His fingers stroke tactfully up your slick, lubricated by your wetness for him. And when he slides his digit into you, the thread that holds your soul to sanity snaps.

‘Oh my god.’ He pushes through the sleek pressure of your walls. ‘Jungkook.’ The whimper of his name rolling off your tongue sends a rush of blood down to his aching cock.

‘Noona, is that okay?’ The genuity in his voice squeezes your heart.

‘Yes, it feels so, argh, good.’

He latches his lips onto your neck and sucks clouds of lavender to your smooth seamless sky. His finger is slowly pumping in and out. It is a foreign feeling, so strange and unfamiliar, yet all the more exciting. The rise of his knuckles hit your wall at eye-rolling angles. Your hips roll in his rhythm to help him reach newer depths. The pleasure is unforgiving, relentless.

Another feeling gnaws at your chest, a longing to please him.

‘I want to make you feel good, Jungkook.’ You mumble, shy.

He looks up at you, finger gradually ceasing its movement. The pure passion alit in his eyes drives you thrumming for him.

‘O-Okay.’

‘You… You have to teach me though.’ Redness flushes your cheeks.

‘Okay.’ He says again, and you wonder if you’ve broken him at the way he’s frozen.

Sheepishly tugging down his pants, you inch yourself down and settle between his legs, the duvet rested upon your shoulders. He bobs free from the restraint of his apparel.

Your eyes bulge at his cock that is, despite the darkness, standing tall and proud, beaming at you. How is that monster going to fit inside you?

A strong vein runs down the course of his length. Angry red tip swollen and trickling with a clear liquid. You look up to find him staring helplessly down at you, gulping. A nervous fear is eating away at your throat; you’ve never done this before, how are you supposed to know how right now?

‘Teach me.’ Your fingers come around the base of his shaft and he gasps audibly.

‘Uh-’ Another gulp. ‘Lick the tip.’

You lick the tip. Drawing your tongue over his engorged head, tasting his salty precum that continues to leak out of him profusely. He curses.

‘Like that?’ Your mouth doesn’t leave him as you say.

‘Mhmm.’ He runs his hand through his dark locks in exasperation. ‘Suck on it gently.’

You suck on it gently. Lips wrapped around his tip like a vacuum while you breath him in. Your cheeks hollow. You look up at him for approval. One eye is clamped shut, the other is barely held open to witness the most seraphic scene.

‘Fuck, noona, like this.’

You try to take in more, letting his wide cock slide into your mouth, careful not to scrape your teeth against his hilt. When he hits the back of your throat, you gag and splutter around him. Embarrassment shoots at you, yet when you glance up, he doesn’t seem to care.

Instead, he brushes your hair behind your ear and coos, ‘Careful, noona.’ He’s so sweet, so dear, you feel a crack in your heart.

So you try again, this time slower, swallowing as much of him as you can. Your hand swirl around his shaft while his massages the back of your scalp. You roll your tongue around his head every time you come up, flickering at his slit. Soon, your pace increases along with your confidence. Jungkook is a mess under you, thighs quivering, toes curling. Humming in satisfaction, your vibrations resonate into his dick and he yelps.

‘Noona, stop before I cum.’ The way he pleads sends your cunt throbbing. You pull his member out of your mouth almost obscenely, inhaling sharply for air.

He gently places you on your back, finger tracing your drenched lips in endearment. ‘Was that ok?’

‘That was perfect, noona. Are you sure that was your first time?’ Doe eyes wide in awe of you. You giggle and nod, glowing in timid pride. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

At that, the reality of this situation hits you. This is happening, this is actually happening. You’re going to have sex for the first time. With Jungkook.

Are you sure you want to do this?

You are sure you want to do this. If not with him, then no one else.

‘Yes.’ You state firmly, eyes never once wavering from his.

His gaze on you is so soft, yet so intense, you want to melt under him. ‘Okay. I- I need to go find a condom in Jimin’s room.’

Fuzzy with your feelings for him, you watch him scramble off in the dark to the other room. Loud clangs echo down the hall, you can’t help but smile at the thought of him digging through Jimin’s pig sty, frantically searching with his rock hard cock.

Jungkook returns moments later to the sight of you completely naked on his bed. Gaping like a little boy, he almost falls onto you as he climbs onto the bed while he tears off his own top. For a minute, you two just stare at each other’s bodies, allowing the beauty to sink in and etch itself forever in your souls.

‘Noona, you’re so beautiful. Do you know that?’ He leans over to kiss all over your face.

A warm prickle sieges your heart. No one has ever called you beautiful before. Emotion floods you like an ocean, and you’re suddenly met with a familiar sting behind your eyes.

He hovers over your lips, nose rubbing on yours so lovingly you want to cry. You’re at a loss for words, so you just nod, not daring to peep a sound lest a tear escapes from you.

His hands are shaking as he rolls on the condom. Prudently, he kisses up your inner thighs before spreading them open with care. Finally, he pecks the top of your flower fondly.

Then slowly he rests his elbow beside your head and situate himself between your legs. Both your breaths are wobbly, you search his face for security and find it. His irises reflect his galaxy - you. And your fear ebbs away.

Stroking his tip along your wetness, he kisses the shell of your ear. ‘Are you really really sure?’

‘Yes, Jungkook.’ Your fingers entangle in his hair assuringly.

‘Tell me to stop if it hurts a lot. Promise, noona?’ His concern is heart wrenching.

‘Promise.’ You whisper, other hand locking with his.

Only then does he begin to ease into you. At first you don’t feel much, just his tip diving into you. Then the rest of his length pushes in, plunging through a tremendous pressure built into your walls. Pain blooms inside you as he enters deeper and deeper, it’s an ache that you anticipated but never imagined. You both cry out, though for different reasons.

‘Are you okay?’ You can tell he’s struggling to stay still, shoulders tensing at the temptation to thrust again.

‘Mhmm.’ You manage to gripe. Because despite the blinding pain, you are okay.

‘I’m gonna go as slow as I can.’ He ensures you, fingers tightening around yours.

When he plunges into you again, you expect the hurt to lessen, but it doesn’t. It overwhelms your whole body, yanking inside you. Though, every time he kisses your lips so tenderly, your forget the soreness he’s impaling into you for a fresh second. Opening your eyes, you see him panting at your tightness, trying with every muscle in his body not to go wild at you.

‘Fuck, noona.’ He exhales, forehead rested on yours.

Seeing him so berserk with pleasure calms your running anxiety. His thrusts inevitably quickens, and you just about begin to see pass the pain. Behind the ache, there’s a gratifying sting clenching your walls. The slap of his hips against your thighs ring loud.

‘Still okay?’ Jungkook asks again, worry painting his face at your silence.

‘Yes, you can go faster.’ You answer despite the ever-present soreness. When he drives hard into you, stars and tears blurring your vision.

Something in him snaps as you feel him twitch inside you. His movements grow sloppy and feral, just like the grunts that he heaves. Chasing his climax, you can tell how close he is to his sweet release.

‘Oh- Noona, I’m so cl-ose.’ He’s whimpering into your neck.

‘Jungkook, baby. Come for me.’

At your name for him, he goes crazy, ramming into you with a strength and stamina that you couldn’t expect less of from him. ‘Noona…’ He begs. The pressure inside you is easing, pain dulling, though you know you won’t feel any pleasure this time round.

Then, in one last powerful push, he ejects into you with a loud cry. You pull his lips to yours immediately to soothe his euphoria. This look of pure pleasure on his face rips you to shred as he refuses to let go of your hand. His hips jerk into yours to ride out is high as his whole body deflates onto you.

Although it’s a freezing night, goosebump plaguing both your skins, neither of you feel cold. Instead, you are enshrouded by the warmth of your passion and desire, all you feel is each other.

You, wrapped tightly around him, and him, spasming inside you.

Heavy with exhaustion, he nuzzles up to kiss you. Long, slow and hard. You have never truly appreciated his beauty until this point, under the subtle snow-clouded moon, eyes boring into you with a never-dimming glow of adoration.

Jungkook removes himself from you, hastily disposing the condom to not miss a moment by your side. Dressing you first so you don’t catch a breeze of cold, his touch feels so much warmer, gentler.

Snuggled up under the covers, he holds you so close to him that you hear his beating heart. For a timeless passage, you stare into each other wordlessly, fingers tracing delicately over every patch of skin.

‘Y/N...’ He muses out loud. ‘Y/N… You don’t know how perfect you are…’

Again, he has rendered you speechless.

Caressing your cheek in his palm, he continues. ‘I wish you could see yourself through my eyes because then you would understand why I’m so completely in love with you.’

At his words, your throat constrict. ‘What?’ You choke out.

‘I’m in love with you, noona.’ His lips are trembling, chest pounding against you. Disquietude emanates from how he’s peering at you.

‘Oh.’

‘I don’t know how you never knew, I mean- I guess it’s pretty obvious from the way I act around you. Even Yoongi-hyung spotted it right away…’ He begins to ramble, focus hopping to the collar of your jumper that he’s toying with. ‘I just… I don’t know. There’s something so special about you that I can’t find in anyone else. I thought it was just a crush but... but then you moved in with us and… And my feelings for you just drove me insane. That’s why I kept trying to avoid you. I know I wouldn’t be able to hide it if I actually spent time with you, I’m kinda stupid when it comes to girls if you can’t tell already.

‘But the truth is,’ he takes a deep breath and sighs, ‘I am truly, deeply, madly in love with you, Y/N noona. Everything about you. The way you devour jajangmyeon as easily as breathing. The way you never go a day in winter without wearing these fuzzy socks. The way you only drink lattes and chamomile tea. The way you would rather spend your friday nights curled up with a book. The way you pretend to find Jimin annoying but secretly love the attention he gives you. The way you rushed out to find me in the snow and forgot the bring your keys. And the way you can’t talk to me without stuttering just like how I can’t look you in the eye when we have a conversation.

‘I know this is a lot to spring onto you, and I don’t expect you to love me back at all. But just know that I’m here for you whenever you need. I’m your furnace in a snowstorm, hand warmer in a blizzard. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same for me, I’ll still be here.’

Jungkook finishes with a final huff.

You stare at him, dumbfounded by his confession. Emotion floods your veins at the revelation, and you can all but break down into sobs. Jaw gaping, you regard him from his arms, trying to piece together your scattered thoughts.

‘Noona, say someth-’

You kiss him, urgently and desperately. Like you’ve been drowning in a sea of lostness, aimlessly floating about to try to find your way, and he’s your first gulp of air. Mist of perplexity is finally starting to clear away, and you see the path ahead of you with crystal lucidity.

It’s Jungkook. Jungkook, who knows your favourite colour when even your own mother doesn’t. Jungkook, who waddled out into the freezing snow to buy you new socks. Jungkook, who so gently and delicately made love to you tonight. Jungkook, who has loved you unconditionally and will continue doing so regardless of your feelings towards him.

‘I think… I think I’m falling truly, deeply, madly in love with you too, Jungkook.’

.

End

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extras: christmas special

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@shookpreme @hazelelizabeth99 @teenage-hippie @bunbundesu @tangledsparkles @gingerpeachtae idk who wanted to be tagged lol 😬

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02/09/2019

© Copyright 2019

[harryspet]

a long way down [3] b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] dark bucky barnes x reader, dark steve rogers, violence, death, heavy angst, the walking dead au, slice of life, domestic steve, vaginal sex (wear protection, please)

A/N: I love how this was supposed to be a one-shot and now I’m finding all the ways to make this series longer and add more drama. 

ADULT AND TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which your world is shaken again and you’re forced to run back to your first safe haven. 

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist

T H E  N E X T  S P R I N G 

“She recognizes you,” You said, watching Peter’s eyes widen as the baby smiled up at him. It was currently tummy time in the living room and the two of you laid beside her, watching her explore her environment, “That’s Uncle Peter, right Margot?”

You watched her little fingers wrap around her little toys as she proceeded to put them in her mouth to taste them. Six whole months had passed since she was welcomed to this scary world and she’d already grown so much, “It’s me, Margot. It’s me,” Peter spoke in a cute voice and the baby proceeded to babble something incoherent, “Bet you I can get her to say Peter before she says Mama.”

You rolled your eyes at that as you continued to watch her, “You will be saying Mama first, missy,” You told her though she was only focused on a bright orange ring toy. You could look at her little face for hours on hours. You hadn’t felt true love until you laid eyes on her. 

The long journey it took you to get here only made you love her more. You were lucky that she didn’t come too early. God forbid you needed a c-section or she was facing the wrong way. You wanted her to survive and that’s all you hoped and prayed for. When you lost too much blood and began to pass out, you were still happy knowing she’d be okay. 

You didn’t think you would make it. Sharon did her best to give you the best care she could but modern medicine wasn’t available to you. You were sick and on bed rest for the first two months she was alive so now you were enjoying the time when you could move around with her. During the time you were unconscious, Steve had made the considerate decision to name the baby Margaret after some long lost love. 

Margaret Rogers. 

You refused to call her that and decided on a nickname of your own choosing.

“C’mere, Margot,” You sat up, lifting the baby into your lap, “Let me show you something cool, Peter.” 

Peter sat up too, his eyes confused as you removed one of her little socks. She was still happily waving around the toy as you ran a finger down the sole of her foot. Her little toes spread out like a little fan, “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Peter declared and you giggled. 

“It’s called the Babinski reflex. It might go away as early as twelve months so I’m going to savor the cuteness,” You encouraged Peter to try it too and the boy seemed to swoon over Margot. You moved the baby into his lap, continuing to tell him about all the little milestones that Margot was passing. 

“She’s like a sponge, it’s amazing,” Peter said, bouncing the little girl in his lap, “Do you get any sleep?”

You nodded, “I’m up by five every morning but I’m used to it now. If she wakes up while I’m sleeping, Steve takes care of her. Luckily, she’s sleeping through the night.”

“Such a sweet girl,” Peter cooed, “I’m sure you’d never cause Mommy any problems.” You were lucky that Margot’s temperament was easy. She got frustrated like all other babies but she wasn’t very sensitive. You thought it meant she’d do well in a world like this. 

The two of you spent more time with Margot but your peace and serenity was interrupted when both Steve and Bucky returned home. You always got the feeling that they disliked Peter being around but that never stopped you from being friends with him. Peter probably cared more for you then both of them combined. 

“It’s getting late, son,” You heard Steve say, his deep voice trying to be as authoritarian as it could. Steve scared Peter, you could tell that much. 

“I’ll go then,” Peter rushed out, handing the little girl back to you. Margot seemed a bit upset at his absence and you held her to you in order to keep her calm. You knew it was useless to argue about this with Steve and you doubted Bucky would have your back. 

You stood up from your place on her baby blanket, using Margot’s hand to wave goodbye, “Say bye-bye, Peter,” The little girl only mumbled something incoherent, “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Margot. Goodbye, Y/N,” Peter smiled before walking out of the living room. The room went silent as Peter made his way to the front door and tension only increased 

Steve walked over to greet his daughter, lifting her from your arms, “Hello, honey-bear,” Margot’s mood seemed to lift again as she recognized her Daddy and Steve’s hard exterior softened. When they were together, it reminded you how alike they looked. He lifted the giggling girl, taking a whiff of her bottom, “You need a change, don’t you?”

“I can do it-”

Steve interrupted you, “No, I’ve got it. Daddy’s gonna change you, yes he is.” 

“Wash your hands please,” You told Steve who was too focused on the tiny creature. As Steve walked away to climb the stairs, your eyes met with Bucky’s. Although you liked that he was forced to face the consequences of his actions, you knew that he was still chasing your affection. He was facing his demons in order to get closer to you. 

“Catch anything good?” You asked, leaning down to collect all the toys. There was a lake just outside the compound limits that Steve and Bucky frequented for their “time to just be a man” where they liked to go fishing. 

“Nothing alive,” Bucky said, following you as you walked into the kitchen. You put the toys into the sink, turning the warm water on in order to clean them. Bucky leaned against the counter and you felt his gaze burning into you, “It’s still pretty peaceful out there, we didn’t run into any walkers. I was thinking we could go out there together, you could take a break like you deserve.”

“Go out there and do what?” You asked, your eyes not meeting his. 

“I don’t know, have a picnic or something.”

“Or something?” You scoffed, scrubbing at the toys, “Sounds romantic.”

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line of frustration, “I’m trying here. I’m not good at … romantic stuff.”

“To say the least,” You added, “Bucky, I don’t need or want a break. I’m perfectly content right now.”

“You’re sure about that? You don’t have any other needs begging to be met?” You scowled at him, knowing what he was hinting at. Steve had barely touched you since you started showing and, after the rough birth, he wasn’t willing to rush into trying for a boy. 

“I’m sure.”

+

“Looks like both the girls are down for the night,” Steve said, letting out a sigh as he sat in his desk chair. Bucky sat in the chair in front of Steve’s desk, his feet kicked up on the desk. 

“What about Sharon?”

Steve rubbed his temples at the mention of the woman, “She’s been working late at the infirmary. She won’t tell me but I know it’s because my attention has been elsewhere,” Bucky was beginning to doubt Steve’s feeling for Sharon in the first place. It seemed Steve was ready to completely let the woman go due to her infertility, “I don’t really care if she doesn’t come back. Y/N and I can handle things on our own.”

Bucky only nodded, his mind already wandering elsewhere. Steve noted his friend's frustration and wondered why the man continued to bother with you. Even after all this time, Bucky still didn’t have anyone else on his mind, “What’s on your mind, Buck?”

Bucky’s fingers rubbed over his facial hair as he thought, “That Peter kid.”

Right away, Steve understood. It had been a topic they avoided despite knowing how each other felt about it, “What about him?”

“You don’t think he spends a little too much time around here? With your daughter?”

Steve didn’t believe Peter was any real threat to his family here. Steve saw him as a distraction for you. Someone who helped you forget your worries, “This is about her, Buck. You don’t want him around her.”

“Fine,” Bucky threw up his hands in defeat, “I think he’s getting in the way of Y/N letting me in again. She has Peter to be there and tell her everything's going to be alright so she doesn’t need me.”

“Tell her not to see him then. Matter of fact, tell him to stay away,” Steve spoke simply, the solution obvious in his mind. 

“If she knows I had something to with it, it’ll make things worse. I have to be the good guy in her eyes.”

Steve smiled, a lightbulb going off in his mind, “Shall I be the bad guy then?”

Bucky moved his feet, leaning forward in his chair, “What are you thinking?”

“I still need someone to replace you. Someone to travel and relay messages between our camp and my allies. Peter could fill the position for the time being,” Bucky didn’t think over it long before he agreed. All that was on his mind was winning you back and this would only help his cause, “I need to keep up appearances around here anyways. We don’t need some kid running around here with our girls, right?”

“Right,” Bucky said, his mind on you, “Thanks, Steve.”

“No need, Buck. We have to look out for each other. Besides that, I think it's a good time to ask you to be my second in command.”

+

Margot was a complete celebrity in Liberty. You couldn’t walk on the street without people coming up to wave or to get a look at her. Margot was good with strangers which only solidified her position as princess of this place. 

It was a sunny spring day and you had dressed her in a floral dress and a pink bow. You carried her in one hand and held a tupperware of deserts in the other hand. Sam wasn’t far behind but that hadn’t changed in the past year. 

“We’re going to find uncle Peter, yes we are,” You cooed to the little girl who was energized from her latest nap, “And he’s going to love the cookies we made him.”

You eventually got to the barracks where Steve’s group of soldiers usually stayed, you walked through the long lines of bunk beds to find his. As you passed some men, all of them burly and intimidating, they even waved hello to your little one. 

As you approached Peter’s bunk you found it empty, only a mattress sitting on top of the metal. All of his comics and textbooks were nowhere to be found. You searched around for the nearest person and found a group of older men playing some dice game, “Excuse me, do you know where Peter Parker is today? He slept over there,” You asked, pointing to Peter’s bunk. 

“Packed up early this morning,” The man said, “Think he got reassigned.”

“Reassigned where?” You asked.

“Something outside of the compound. Poor kid.”

Your heart started pounding heavily as you turned back to Sam, “Take me to Steve. Now.”

“He’s on duty-”

“Find him and take me to him, Sam.”

+

Margot was screaming in your eyes mostly because she sensed how upset you were. As soon as you approached Steve, he swooped the little girl into his arms, trying to calm her, “What the hell are you doing?” Steve asked. He came down from one of the watchtowers, a rifle still strapped to his back, as he saw you approaching with Sam. 

“Peter? Where did you send him?”

Steve sighed, “Y/N-”

“Where did you send him?” You shouted back. 

“I needed a new emissary and he volunteered to do it,” Steve stated simply. 

“By himself? He’s a kid, Steve!” Margot cried louder but your blood was boiling, “You’re going to get him killed!”

“We all have to earn our keep around here, Y/N. Some people put their lives on the line for a chance to live here and then people like you spread your legs for it. That’s how it works, sweetheart.”

“You’re a fucking monster,” You spat at him. 

+

Bucky scoured the camp looking for you for a good hour. You were sitting at the bottom of a big tree, staring out into a small field. Where the field ended, the wall began. Bucky startled you when he suddenly appeared and you were quick to try and wipe away your tears. 

He took a seat beside you, leaning his back against the tree. This area of the camp was peaceful, it was no wonder that you had taken a liking to it. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your face in a frown. 

“I thought you didn’t need a break,” Bucky said, avoiding your question. 

“This isn’t a break,” You said softly, “You’re supposed to feel relaxed on a break-” As your voice cracked and the tears started falling again, Bucky wrapped an arm around your soldier. You leaned into him and sobbed into his shoulder. 

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” You tried to speak as you choked on your sobs.

“He’ll be back, I promise” Bucky stated, “Probably sooner than you think. The kid can handle himself.”

“He shouldn’t have to. Margot shouldn’t have to,” You said, “It isn’t fair.”

Bucky rubbed your shoulder, drawing lines on your skin with his fingers, “I know, doll.”

It was like losing your family all over again. It was worse than losing them. At least you knew they were dead. You wouldn’t know if he was alive or dead and, if something happened, you wouldn’t even know how it happened. There were so many things outside of the walls that could get you killed. 

You pulled away from Bucky gently, realizing how long it had been since you’d been in his arms. Looking into those blue eyes gave you a weird sense of familiarity. Of home, “Maybe you could talk to Steve? For me?”

Bucky nodded, “Of course, doll.”

You stared at his moment and Bucky noted the way your gaze traveled to your lips. Bucky reached over to wipe a tear from your cheek. He couldn’t hide how attracted to you he was, even when you were crying. Bucky placed a soft, hesitant kiss on your cheek, “Everything’s going to be okay. All I should worry about is your little one.”

You took a deep breath, nodding in agreement. 

It must’ve been the emotions or the off-balance hormones because, when Bucky leaned into your lips, you didn’t stop him. In fact, you welcomed that touch. The soft kisses soon became more desperate and hungry. Your lips were angry, demanding as they moved against his. 

It shocked Bucky as much as it did to you. Bucky was elated but he had little time to celebrate you being back in his clutches. You were hungry for something and he was going to make sure you were satisfied. 

Bucky pulled you into his lap and, as you straddled him you said, “Just this once.”

“Just this once,” Bucky agreed, knowing the opposite would be true. 

Your lips devoured each other and Bucky explored your mouth with his hands pulled down the straps of your sundress. As your breast sprang free, he palmed them his hand. The cold of his metal hand sent shivers down your spine but Bucky warmed you again with his mouth. He played with your nipple in his mouth causing you to bite down on your lips. 

Your hands ran through his hair as you savored the feeling. As he moved his mouth away, his head tilted up at you, “You’re so beautiful,” Bucky said and you rolled your eyes, leaning down to undo his belt and zipper. 

“Just fuck me, okay?” Bucky grabbed you by your ass roughly pulling you into him. He reached under your dress, tucking your underwear to the side as he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel how hard he already was and the idea of him filling you up was making your mouth water with anticipation. 

As you slowly impaled yourself on his cock, your mouth was agape. You realized how full he made you fill, how complete you felt. Bucky held your hips as you began to bounce up and down. Bucky groaned huskily, loving how your face contorted to different expressions as the pleasure went through you. 

As you tried to contain your moans, Bucky placed kisses along your jaw and then on your neck. He felt all your anger and sadness as you used it as motivation, moving your body hard against his. 

The two eventually met your climaxes together, your body shaking as you rode out the rest of the wave. You breathed heavily, leaning against his body. You tucked your head into his shoulder and Bucky simply wrapped his arms around you. 

“Say you won’t leave again,” You whispered.

“I won’t leave you ever again, doll.”

+

The next day you awoke beside Bucky. You watched him as he slept peacefully, his hand over his shirtless chest and his chest slowly rising and falling. That “just this once” had turned into four times which you were sure he was happy with. You had to admit that you didn’t have that morning-after regret that you expected. Bucky had done such horrible things to you and yet he managed to bring you joy like no other. 

You hated that you ran back after resisting for so long but, without Peter, you were once again feeling completely lost. Being with Bucky reminded you of simpler times and, despite the hell you knew it would bring, it was worth it just to feel that comfort. 

Suddenly, you heard commotion coming from downstairs, glass shattering and Steve’s booming voice traveled through the air. You shook Bucky awake as you  began to throw on some clothes, “Bucky, something’s going on!” You threw on some boots and Bucky put on a t-shirt before the two of you filed out of your room. 

You heard your little girl wailing and you followed the sound. You found the front door wide open and quickly ran out of it. As you moved down the porched steps, the sight before you stopped your heart. Steve was holding Margot in one hand and a pistol in the other. A pistol that was pointing at a begging and pleading Sharon. 

Bucky tried to grab your hand but you ran towards him, “Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Your eyes widened even more as you noticed that Margot had no clothes on except for a checkered dishtowel and her skin was wet.

Steve handed you the child but kept the gun pointed at the woman. By now, everyone had filed out of their homes and were watching the chaos, “She tried to drown our baby,” Was all he said, shaking with anger. 

“I-I would never!” Sharon shouted back, her hands up as she laid on the gravel, “Please-”

“I fucking saw you!” Steve shouted back and you felt Bucky’s arm pulling you away. You stepped back with him, knowing that if the gun went off that you didn’t want Margot anywhere near it. 

Your eyes connected with Sharon’s and there was only pure hatred there. She didn’t even look sorry for what she was being accused of, “I was helping! I was taking care of her! You know me, Steve!”

Steve didn’t believe her and you hated that you didn’t either. Was she really capable of something like this? All because of jealousy? Jealousy over a life that you didn’t even want. 

“You weren’t even supposed to be in my house!” You watched as Steve cocked the gun, “You’re lucky I walked in when I did. If you had gotten away with hurting my little Margaret, I would’ve dismembered you piece by piece and I would've enjoyed it. Consider this a blessing.”

“Steve, don’t-” You pressed yourself into Bucky, trying to protect the crying child in your arms as the gun went off and the blonde woman fell limp. 

Steve tucked the weapon into his belt, his muscle still tense, as he tried not to contain whatever emotions were coursing through him, “Early start today. Everyone get to work!” Steve shouted to every citizen who was listening, “And get her body off my fucking street!”

Silence fell over the small town of Liberty. 

+

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts and predictions!

[moonlights-inkwell]

I’m Weak, My Love (And I am Wanting)

Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 5,525

Summary: After a night of drinking, you dance with a stranger. Jaskier is jealous. Jealous enough to do something extreme

A/N: Two Fics in one day? Who is she? I have no idea.

This fic is dumb and super unbeta’d but oh well, sorry for any bad writing and junk. I’ve mentioned Jaskier being jealous before and wanted to write something to go with it.

Title from Her Sweet Kiss.

Warnings: Public Sex, slight degradation, Reader is drunk, Jaskier is insecure. 

You feel the eyes on you before you even really understand what they are, hairs on the back of your neck standing up on end. It’s distracting as all hell.

“Fuck!”  

The word comes out loud and slurred as you stumble over your own feet mid-dance. You’re drunk, or if not drunk then tipsy enough to know that you soon will be- the feeling is more than welcome. Working, fighting as you have been, it leaves little time these sorts of festivities, the kind that reminds you of home. The rush from guzzling down tankard after tankard of sickly-sweet apple cider is unrivalled in its ability to make you feel girlish and giddy. And so, you’re dancing. Or were, as it may be, before you tripped. 

Your compatriots don’t join you, but you rather expected that before abandoning the table. Geralt seldom allows himself to indulge in such luxuries- like smiling, or engaging in pleasantries, so you assume that dancing is far beyond his capabilities. He doesn’t even tap his foot when Jaskier performs catchy, often bawdy songs, in his honour, so this music, pretty but lacking in lyric or any type of familiarity is unlikely to rouse him to his feet. Besides, crowds are hardly something the White-haired man enjoys, standing out like a sore thumb amidst all of the mundane people of the village you’re staying in.  

Jaskier, however, Jaskier staying at the table is a little odder. The bard adores crowds, feeds off of the energy that a group of people exudes and is able to talk to anyone, a trait you find intriguing and intimidating in equal measure, but he's sat. The tavern has a band of bards, all playing in unison to form something overwhelming and beautiful, so there is no chance for him to perform, to wink and sashay about while strumming his lute and lapping up attention. That had rather taken the wind out of his sails when he realised, souring his mood to a point where he isn’t even trying to dance with you. It had been upsetting at first, how he had essentially ignored you in favour of scowling and fingering the frets of his lute like the strings will make the other musicians disappear.  

Ever since meeting the bard, you’ve thought him beautiful. Not beautiful, beautiful isn’t quite the right word. He's amazing. The kind of person for whom a natural sort of charm radiates from them, who would be attractive from personality alone, even if he wasn’t one of the most attractive men you have ever laid eyes upon. Ever since the two of you began... whatever it is the two of you have been doing, he's done his part to act as if you’re the only person in tge world to him, but right now? He only has eyes for the band. The coin that he could have earned would have been a godsend, but you don’t care about that right now, all you want is to dance with the bard. He's just. Sat there, scowling and sitting instead if dancing with you.  

It’s such a simple thing to bring so much pleasure; dancing, especially when coupled with somewhere to do it, and this tavern certainly feels like an appropriate place for it. It’s heaving, overrun with people you assume must b locals, all laughing and chattering like they haven’t a care in the world. Perhaps they don’t, their only troubles coming in the form of what ale to drink and who they should dance with. You envy them that. Truly, you can’t remember a single one of your concerns from before you packed up and abandoned your life go travel with a wandering Witcher and his Bard. Logically, you know you must have had them, but not a single one is important enough to linger in your mind. Any domestic issue pales in comparison to fighting beasts, arguments about corsets and how near you may go to the woods forgotten in lieu of how best to fell a Wyvern or exactly where to hit any man who means to do you harm. It’s selfish to envy these people their lives when you know that you wouldn’t trade the life you have chosen for all the gold in the world. Mid-stumble, you catch yourself, and stand upright once more, bringing your tankard to your mouth and draining it before moving to place it on a table, only to fall over your feet once more, flinching for fear of impact with the ground. But it never comes, instead a pair of arms wind about your waist and tug you up to the body of one of the boys who had been dancing around you. He’s a pretty thing, a mop of blonde curls hanging about wide green eyes that stare at you like you’re a prize that’s fallen into his lap, and you grin up at him gratefully. It takes less than a second for him to tug you closer still and begin another dance, hand on your waist and the other gripping your hand; it’s nice, nice to feel wanted, even if it’s only for a night, a dance- there are worse ways to spend a night than hanging off the arm of some pretty stranger. Serves as a nice distraction from the bard as well. Well, it would be nice, if not for the feeling that you’re being watched, that has you craning your head to see who it is that is staring. Then, your eyes meet a gaze all too familiar.  

Jaskier.  

His eyes are narrowed into slits, brows knitted together and mouth downturns in a look that you don’t recognise on his face, but know all too well. A scowl. Jaskier doesn’t scowl, that’s a look used by Geralt or yourself, but right now he's scowling at you, glaring daggers into you and gripping the neck of his lute so tightly it looks as if it might break.  

“Something wrong, Pretty Lady?” The blond asks playfully, making you turn your gaze away from the glowering man across the room to meet the eyes looking down at you.  

“Oh. No. No, I just. Thought someone was looking at me.”  

“The man in the red?” He asks, looking straight at Jaskier before chuckling, spinning you about and causing you to fall against his chest once more. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”  

“What?” You ask incredulously, eyebrow raising. It's such a weird thing for him to say about a complete stranger, and you can’t really understand what he means. Jaskier is scowling, yes, but you assume it’s because you’re able to enjoy yourself while he cannot perform.  

“He looks like he might murder me.” The boy tilts his head and leans his head in, mere centimetres from your face in such a way that has you thinking that he might kiss you. “Your husband?”  

His question flusters you, only serving to make your cheeks flush bright red and a nervous laugh to escape your lips. Jaskier? A Husband? The idea of him being wed is so alien, even when applied to you. You spend too many nights with him curled about you, but you aren’t even courting, never mind being anywhere close to marriage.

“No!” You say the word a little too forcefully, and your dancing partner grins. “We're traveling partners, he is not my husband.” You don’t know what you are. You kiss, settle in his arms like it’s where you belong, spend far too many nights with him bucking up into you and swallowing down your moans, but you aren’t courting. He isn’t your gentleman caller. Your lover, yes, your friend, always, but you have no clue how to articulate that to this stranger, and so don't.

“The look on his face has me thinking he might wish to be more than traveling partners, Pretty Lady.” He says teasingly, lips brushing against your own with each word. You are more than that, but the alcohol has you tongue tied. You want to kiss this stranger. Well, that’s not entirely true, you want to be dancing with Jaskier and to drag him down into a kiss, to lean in and close the gaps between your lips, but you'll settle for trying to forget the man behind you who cares far more about music than spending time with you. He seems to have the same thought as you seeing as he kisses you suddenly.  

Its soft, sweet, but... felt like nothing. It’s just skin on skin, no different from how his hand on yours feels, and you can’t help but feel disappointed. You’ve only ever kissed one man before, never felt a need or want to either, only ever really wanted a bard who is too tied up in himself currently to kiss you, but every kiss with Jaskier is a world stilling experience, the sort people write songs and poetry about and this feels like absolutely nothing at all. No sudden surge of desire, no need to fling your arms about him, no want for anything at all.  It’s deeply disappointing to say the least; like something inside of you is broken, or at least dampened by the alcohol raging through your system. The man kissing you, however, seems to feel something if the quiet moan he lets out is anything to go by, and pulls you closer, but you remain still. You can’t bring yourself to kiss him back, so instead just stand there stock still. Well, stood stock still until you feel a hand firmly grasp your wrist and tug. Hard. The pull sends you stumbling blindly backward, barely able to realise what is going on when you see Jaskier pushing the blond man backwards.  

“Get your bloody hands off of her!” He says, words dripping with poison, audible above the music. The people dancing around you stop their movements and stare at what is going on, at the Bard standing in front of you like a guard dog.  

Your dancing partner opens his mouth to argue while surging toward Jaskier who clenches his fists into balls, but stops when you quickly say Jaskier's name. This is the closest you have ever seen him to a fight, watching hands that daily cradle a lute clenched to punch someone is so unnatural.

It’s embarrassing, to say the least, to be gawked at by such strangers and turned into a spectacle, and so you reach out to the bard, hand brushing against his back.

“Jask-” You begin, and he turns to you quickly, eyes initially full of anger, but softening slightly when they meet your own; his hand flies out once more and grabs your arm, painfully tight.  

“Come on, Little Miss,” He says coldly, walking towards the door to the pub and dragging you along behind him. You drag along behind him, and hear the music start up once more, making you scowl at the prospect of missing out on dancing. There goes the chance at nostalgic bliss you had been enjoying. You’re in the street before you really know what is going on, and Jaskier curses under his breath into the darkness of the evening.  

“Shit. Where is the fucking inn...?” He mutters, craning his head about to try and get his barings once more. This isn’t where you recall entering, and assume that you must have left through a side entrance, you’re in some side alley, not the main street. The iron grip on your arm is growing painful and you try to pull it free, Jaskier's grip doesn’t falter. The air is uncomfortably cold, especially against your warm cheeks, and standing like this is doing little to warm you.  

He’s trying to work out where you go from here, and you’re wondering the exact same thing; just not about how to get back to the inn. He’s gripping you like he wants to bruise you, wants to leave his mark on you and you don’t know what there is you can say to make his jaw unclench or his hands soften. There are no words. Though you aren’t courting, it’s been quite implicit between the two of you that whatever it is you have, it’s exclusive; he and you are not to be... toying about with other people. You don’t flirt with men hoping for free drinks or cheaper rooms anymore, Jaskier doesn’t bed or even flirt with other women, and between the two of you? You fell at the first hurdle, he has remained loyal to whatever this is, and you let some stranger kiss you. Famous flirt and serial seducer, Jaskier, has not tried to romance anyone but you but with a little ale in you and the high of dancing rushing through you, you let a stranger kiss you; not just kiss you, but kiss you in front of Jaskier. There’s nothing you can say that will change that.  

“I’m weak, my love, and I am Wanting.” The lyrics come from your mouth unconsciously. You don’t sing, it’s not something that comes readily to you, but with the ale and discomfort around you, it’s a that you can think to do. Singing is Jaskier's skill, and while drunk you can hardly carry a tune, but you simply need to fill the silence and a song will do. His song too. It feels like an insult, but he turns to you with a smile- all teeth and gums. Like a wolf, a beast, and it’s exciting. Jaskier doesn’t look like a beast, he’s all sweetness and light but given what he’s seen, you suppose it makes sense. You blink slowly at him, and feel him tug you toward him once more, body making contact with his chest and driving all of the air from your lungs.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” You ask, a little more harshly than you expected it to come out. “I was having a good time-”  

“A good time? Is that what you call letting a little toad like him near you?” He seethes, towering over you in such a way as to make sure you must look up at him. You feel like a child being chided, not someone talking to a man who had until this night been seen as your equal.  

“We were only dancing, Jaskier. I fail to see how he was taking advantage of me by dancing. You and Geralt were hardly going to stop your brooding and be my partner.” You try to argue, but your words come out stilted and unnatural. Arguing with him isn’t natural: Geralt you can argue with until blue in the face, everything said is forgotten within an hour or so, but Jaskier? He remembers everything, pulls it out at a second’s notice and is a wordsmith. He knows how to build up or tear someone down with nothing more than his words, and well at that. Your argument is childish and nonsensical too- acting as if you were only dancing is an obvious lie. You know what happened, he knows what happened. You cannot deny what he's seen with his own eyes and to try is to insult his intelligence.  

He pushes you, and the rough brick of the inn presses into your back, rough and painful enough to warrant a noise of complaint, which dies on your tongue when Jaskier's hands bracket you in place. You let out a gasp, from the sharp pain of the bricks and the fact that he's pushed you and is so near. With him so close, you can smell ale on his breath that you hadn’t seen him drink. Is that your breath? The proximity of your lover so close combined with the alcohol has your head spinning in a way that makes you worry you might just sink to your knees. He looks beautiful. He always does, but somehow, now with chestnut locks falling into his eyes and glaring at you in a manner that is just on the right side of feral, he has your knees shaking. You've never been attracted to dangerous men, but in this moment, with him having all but punched a man over you, you understand how so many women can fall over themselves for men like Geralt.  

“You weren’t just dancing, were you, Little Miss?” He growls, leaning in until his face is but a centimetre away from your own. “You let him kiss you.”  

“He kissed me.” You attempt to correct him before realising you've basically said the exact same thing he did. Jaskier growls at that, and slams his mouth into yours. It hurts a little, his kiss pushing your head back into the hard wall, mouth working harshly against your own and tongue prying its way into your mouth, world’s away from his usual way of kissing- all sweetness and light replaced by something darker. Almost possessive. You try to move your hands up to grip the satin front of his doublet only to have them pinned to the wall at either side of your chest. His lips leave your own to move down to the column of your throat, not quite kissing but more nipping at the skin.  

“You let him kiss you.” He says darkly against the skin, warm breath fanning against cold skin to make you shiver.  

“I didn’t kiss him-"

“You didn’t stop him either.” The words are almost a snarl, and your heart all but stills in your chest.  

“I didn’t know how! And I didn’t kiss him back, Jaskier, we both know I wouldn't...”  

“I don’t believe in sharing.” Funny statement. He’s made a name for himself by bedding married women, but the woman he isn’t courting being kissed is somehow a punishable offence? What’s the difference, you ask yourself, while his lips ghost across your neck, how is some man kissing you any different from what he used to do? Teeth graze sensitive skin and you bite back a moan when a thought enters your mind. Those women weren’t his. They were another man's wife, not someone he shares a bed with, spends his days beside. He hasn’t ever needed to concern himself with the aftermath of adultery, save for running from nobles- never been jealous of who looks at a woman that he cares for.

At once, everything falls into place. All night makes so much more sense, how he had tried to keep a grip on your hand as you slipped from his grasp to the bar, never to return as you joined the fold to dance, the constant watching, the scowling at your dancing partner. No sign of his usual animated chatter, no annoying Geralt, just watching. Unending watching. He wasn’t angry about the other musicians. No, no, it was something completely different all together.  

“Are. Are you jealous?” You stammer out which only makes the Bard growl and all but bite your neck, sucking on the skin in such a way that has you certain that there will be a bruise there in the morning. A strange concept indeed. Jaskier is all lover and no fighter, so the thought of him bruising your skin even through kisses is something else.  

“Am I jealous of some ugly prick?” He raises an eyebrow and slowly raises to his full height once more, his knee slotting between your thighs and grinding oh so slowly against your sex. “No. What I am, is fucking angry. That some bastard is touching My Little Miss, that you would let him-"  

“Y-Yours?” You stammer out as the meat oh his thigh rubs against your clitoris.  

“I spend my days singing to you.” He nips at your neck. “My evenings holding you.” He laps at the bite with the flat of his tongue. “My nights fucking you.” His hands release your wrists, one moving up to grope your chest while the other moves down to tug your skirts up past your waist and slides into your undergarments to press the tips of his fingers to your sensitive pearl, letting out a ghost of a laugh upon feeling your fluids covering his digits. “I kiss you; I sleep with you, I live and breathe you and use my mouth on you until you can't even breathe. I think that rather makes you mine.”  

He says it in a manner that is so matter of fact that it makes your head spin. His. Logically, you know you should be angry at him for being possessive- you aren’t his partner, not his wife, not anything more than a bed partner- but the way he says it has you dripping, walls clenching around nothing at all while his leg grinds against your cunt. His. It leaves no room for argument or discussion, just a claim of ownership that can’t be disputed, not that you would if your traitorous mouth would allow you to form words. You like that, as much as you know you shouldn’t. It makes you sound like a pet or some kept whore, and the affectation in his voice only serves to remind you that he must be some rich cunt and you should slap him for implying he could ever own you, but really, all you want is for him to breach you with his calloused fingers, make your thighs quake. To be owned by him, at least right now, sounds perfect- to be filled with him until you know nothing but his name and how his cock feels within you.  

“You're soaking.” He mutters, dragging his nose against your skin. “Is this for me? Or that prick?” He sounds so smug, but there's an undercurrent of anger running under his playful tone.  

“Please... Please.” You whine out, biting your bottom lip so hard you taste blood. He chuckles, fingers deftly circling your clit without ever moving further.

“Please what, Little Miss?” He asks, his smile all teeth. “Please...? Please stop touching you? Please let you go and be touched by that disgusting little-"  

“Finger me.” You cut him off earnestly, back arching off of the wall and pressing your chest into his. Melitele, it’s sad how wanton you’re acting, begging to be touched in a place where anyone could walk past the two of you. Quiet is needed, discretion to keep prying eyes away, but you don’t care who hears you as long as he stops playing these games and does what you both want him to do.  

“Me or-"  

“Gods above Jaskier, please. Please, Jaskier.”  

He smirks at that, and you force yourself forward to slam your mouth against his. The vibration against your lips lets you know he has more to say; always has more to say, is never silent. Normally, his voice is something you revel in; how it manages to make even the most mundane thing sound melodic, but if kissing him will keep him from talking more about the man inside then you can deal with him not speaking. Thankfully, though, he ceases his circling to instead push what feels like two fingers into you and your eyes water at the sudden movement. It’s not the first time he’s done this but it is the first time he’s done it with such intensity, thrusting his fingers with such force you're almost afraid it might bruise your cunt, the worry is short lived when the pleasure of it hits you all at once. He’s good with his hands, you’re reminded when you notice the neck of his lute bobbing with each movement of his arm. Musicians’ fingers, calloused from the fruits of his art and not labour, play you like he plays his lute and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from making a sound, just to spite him. He loves it when you make noise, said once that it makes him sure that he's actually pleasing you, and it’s normally a sign that you two can afford the privacy to be so- there is no privacy here, in an alley outside of a busy tavern where one loud moan could alert anyone of what the two of you were doing. It’s embarrassing how much the proximity makes you want to moan, and almost definitely why he's doing this here. Wants everyone inside, but mostly the blond man, to know how little it takes for you to fall apart for him. That travelling partner definitely isn’t the right term for what he is to you, even if you don’t know what the right words to describe him are.  

“Come now, Little Miss.” He coos quietly, fingers on the hand not currently working you into a stupor tracing the visible edges of your teeth. “Sing for me.” His face shifts to your neck and presses a soft kiss to it, before nipping at it, nipping turning to biting and sucking as soon as it had started. His fingers gather more momentum when a third breeches into you and then crooks into a spot that has you seeing stars. A noise that verges on a scream, masked by a sudden burst of loud music and cheering within the pub, escapes you which makes Jaskier grin and peck your lips before retracting his fingers all together.  

“Jaskier-" You hiss, eyes narrowed to slits, but stop when he drags your hand to his trousers and places it on top of his cock. The dark had done enough to conceal it from you, but with it beneath your hand you can feel it, hard and throbbing beneath the fancy fabric. It’s good to know that, jealousy aside, he isn’t angry enough to not want you. Dark lashes brush against his cheekbones and his head slumps to the wall beside your head as soon as you touch him, letting out a wanton little moan. “Oh Jask.” Your voice turns tender and your grip on his member tightens as much as it can through his pants and you work it up and down the shaft, feeling how it twitches with every movement of your wrist. The first time this had ever happened, both of you drunk on ale that tasted like piss and hidden away in some cupboard in an inn, he had chuckled at how gentle your touch had been, going so far as to grab your wrist to guide your movements into something more pleasurable: but now he chokes out a moan of something that sounds like your name, hips stuttering in staccato thrusts to chase your hand. You drop your grip of him after a pump or two more, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to the exposed underside of his jaw. It’s little by means of an apology, but you see his lips turn up in a smile while he heaves out a sigh, hands sliding down to his trousers and unlacing them at a speed that reminds you of his strumming.  

“Part your legs.” It’s spoken like a request, but you know it’s a demand and even if it wasn't, there was no way you could deny him. With an awkward sort of shuffle, you push your undergarments down to step out of them best that you can before leaning back against the wall and letting your legs part. The skirts still cover you, but you feel so exposed like this. In the near pitch, you can hardly make out anything save for how his arms move to shove his trousers down. Darkness hides too much, you think, as you can’t even make out how his member even looks in this light, but Melitele you feel it against your thigh when he steps closer to you. A cold hand slides your skirt up once more and Jaskier steps between your legs, holding onto your thigh and guiding it onto his hip.  

“Can I-"

“Fuck me, Jaskier, or I shall scream.”  

The moan that escapes your lips is louder than you would like, but he chuckles and it’s enough to make your heart swell: lips landing on your and moving gently against them as he thrusts into you. He's big, big enough to make your cunt feel full to bursting point each time he enters you, and you can’t help but make noises when he does.  

“There we go, Darling.” He murmurs against your mouth, making you wonder how he can string together a coherent sentence in moments like this. “Gods, you’re so tight.”  

Thrusts grow faster and with each movement your moans grow louder even against his lips, you can feel them curl around yours. He tugs back from you after a little while and rests his forehead against the wall, breathing heavily.  

“You’re so good to me, Little Miss.” He breathes, grip turning to iron on your thigh. “You’re... perfect. My Little Miss.” He speaks so much that his words feel so much more natural than silence, more natural than anything in the world; bird songs, trickling streams, Jaskier’s words. “You’re beautiful, and he wants you... everyone wants you. I can’t lose you...”

“...You know I want you, don’t you?” You ask, voice cracking. The noise that he makes is somewhere between a moan and a sob, breathing shakily against the skin of your throat. “I can't imagine being without you, Dandelion. You... You have no need to be jealous of some stranger who tries to kiss me.” He whimpers, hips stuttering. He's close, far closer than you, but in this moment, you don't care at all. This isn’t about you. This is about him, and letting him know how much you care. Care in such a way that words alone will never be able to express.  

“You want me now.” He sighs, thrusts slowing and hand moving to rub your clit once more. “I know that. But you'll change your mind, Little Miss. Everyone does. I ought to savour the time we have...” He thrusts hard at the word savour, and you see white as his cock head hits that spot deep within that makes you weak. “But I know you’ll soon change your mind.”  

Oh. That, that was not what you anticipated at all- you had expected some sort of talk about how he wants you too, but this self-depreciation is new. Jaskier is always so confident and this is alien to you. There isn’t a time you know when he isn’t self-aggrandizing, preening and strutting like some fancy song bird, all too aware of how wonderful he is.  

“I'll always want you.” You whisper and his head rises from the wall once more and instead rests his forehead against yours. “You. Just you. Wonderful, amazing you.” You mean it too. He'll probably believe it to be drunken ramblings come morning, but you mean every word. You love him, love him, love him.  

You love him. Have for far too long, really, far longer than is right to go without saying. It’s impossible not to love him, he’s a breath of fresh air, a beacon of light in a doublet, a lullaby you didn’t know you had forgotten, nostalgia for a life you've never known before. Jaskier. Wonderful, foolish Jaskier, who sings away each day and talks to you like he cannot imagine speaking to another soul, and does his best to stitch up your wounds while chiding you about how you worry him so. Jaskier, who has carried you on his back when he thinks you're limping behind, and sleeps with his arms wound around you and head burrowed between your shoulder blades. You love Jaskier. The thought overwhelms you, and you have to bite back the words to keep them from coming out. You seek his lips out once more, kissing him chastely.  

“I'll always want you too, Little Miss.” He admits, he thrusts hard into that spot and presses on your clit and your vision blurs as you moan so loudly your voice cracks, pleasure overtaking you and ensuring you can’t feel anything but pleasure and the rush of his seed flooding into you.  

“I mean it, you know.” You say when the world settles once more, Jaskier pulling himself free of you and tucking himself back into his trousers. “About wanting you, I mean.” I mean it. I shall want you till the day I die, till each star burns out and the nights no longer follow the day, till spring doesn’t come. I want every part, every facet and secret, every regret and mistake and treasured memory- and to make a million more. I want to show you each scar and hear every song. I love you. I have never loved anyone as I love you, I will never again love as I have loved you. You make a poet out of me, steal my senses, my very soul; and I want you to keep them until the day you are no longer mine to keep, and then keep them a thousand days beyond so I cannot feel your absence. I love you. I want you.

“You mean it now, Little Miss.” He says simply, hand taking yours. “Now is enough.” He continues and squeezes your hand.  

Now is enough, you think, but forever is all you want.  

[needleanddead]

wait rose had an abusive ex-boyfriend? I didn't know about him honestly. Spare some more infos about his and rose relationship?

oh, yes; rose has had one (1) romantic entanglement in their whole life. it did not end well. long post under the cut; someone asks me about backstory and i just start typing and don’t stop.

cw: domestic violence, violence, misgendering, alcohol, uhh. bad. a bad time.

rose had a reasonably nice childhood; their family was comfortably lower-middle class, they were shy and nervous with a stutter (they went to speech therapy growing up; they always had it but the severity wobbled around. in the current timeline its in a pretty bad state). they have some issues about being the forgotten/least loved child because of their sister needing a lot of their parents attention. they were bullied pretty badly throughout high school; but they figured university was a fresh start and that things could and would get better for them. the best laid plans, though—

his name is/was thomas and he was a business student (fucking business students) at the same university rose attended. rose met him at a freshers event (do you guys call that first week of being a student 'freshers week' outside of the uk? do you call first years freshers? do you guys chant ’down it fresher’ in attempts to make people as drunk as possible?) - and he was very sweet to them; rose was an anxious mess trying to figure out if they'd made enough of an attempt to be able to go home and say they tried, and thomas . . . figured rose would be an easy mark. thomas grew up in a fairly affluent family (his father is a high-profile lawyer, his grandfather owns a successful textile business that thomas would have inherited, hence the business degree); his family wanted him to Settle Down With A Nice “Girl”, and thomas figured that rose would do.

they moved in together after their first year. by this point, everyone was pretty aware thomas was a player with a drinking problem; but he was also friendly and well-liked, and rose was awkward and quiet and shy. it got to a point where thomas would be mad about rose going to their classes; what did rose need a degree for, when they were going to stay home and cook dinner and do laundry and never mention the lipstick marks on thomas's collar? he'd get violent if rose did try and say something, if the house fell into what he considered disrepair, if rose wasn't in the mood--

("what's the point of having a live-in girlfriend if she isn't going to put out whenever i want? fucking look at me, rosie-posy. what's the matter with you?")

all of their friends as a couple were really thomas's friends, he would be very happy to remind them. obviously rose's gender identity was them making up for not being pretty or sexy as a girl. rose was lucky that anyone wanted them. rose should shut up and get on with things. rose missed so many classes their university "asked them to leave" (read: kicked them out). his violent tendences escalated.

eventually, he got into it at a bar with the wrong guy and went just a little too far. he didn't kill a man (technically. the man did die, a few months later - but somehow thomas's father-slash-lawyer managed to convince a court there was no proof that said death was because of the injuries thomas inflicted. who knew what underlying causes there might have been, what other medical issues, would they really condemn such a Bright Young Man and tar him as a murderer, and thomas’s prison sentence was for ‘grievous bodily harm’)-- but he did get taken into custody to await trial. anyway, when the news of him being taken in got to rose they realised that if they stayed with him any longer, he would absolutely eventually kill them. rose packed a bag and called their family in tears. (they did, eventually, give a written and recorded statement that thomas was prone to violence. it was hard for them, but they did it). after moving back home, rose's agoraphobia got much, much worse - partly because of fear of leaving the first truly safe place they'd been for well over a year, partly because they started seeing the ghosts.

their parents quietly disposed of letters in unfamiliar handwriting postmarked from a prison for several months - and with their parents dead, several years later, at a new address . . . rose hasn't received a letter for quite some time. co-incidentally, rose really doesn't mind any silly nicknames anyone chooses for them, but they can't bear being called rosie-posy :).