#playing in knee-high snow really warms your heart

[httpiastri]

What part of Sweden are you from? Do you have a lot of snow? Can you see the northern lights? Do you have some pics? 🥰

i live in stockholm, the capital! it’s on the east coast, a bit more south than the middle of the country. i unfortunately haven’t seen any northern lights yet, they’re almost only visible in the far north, but we usually get snow in the winter! some years it’s very little, some years it’s a lot. very cozy 🤭🤭

i wasn’t sure if you meant pics of the country itself or of just snow but i just got out some of my snow pics shdjshsj

[waywardsou2]

Whumptober 2024 - "Don't move, you'll be ok"

Summary: An AU where Steve goes and finds Bucky. The results are no less heart breaking

Word Count: 1.9k+

Tags: Dismemberment, trauma, alternate universe, blood, hospital, memories, gore

Steve felt like everything inside of him had been sucked out. That his whole body had been dragged under the speeding train.

He knew it hadn't. He could still feel the cold metal underneath his gloves. He could still feel the harsh winds on his face. He could feel the solid metal underneath his feet.

But it doesn't mean anything, because his entire world, the person he had held closest to his heart had just been ripped away from him.

He heard rather than saw, the wind whipping the snow in his face and it was making his eyes water. Instead he heard the cry of fear as the bar Bucky had been holding onto gave way.

He felt the way his heart sank as Bucky fell away from him.

This couldn't be happening.

The part of his brain that wanted to sink to his knees was pushed away, buried as his logical brain took over knowing he needed to complete the mission. He pulled himself back inside the car, refusing to process what had just happened.

He made his way to the front of the car where Arnim Zola had been cornered by Gabe, a gun trained on him and the driver. They were taking the two of them to the meeting point where Colonel Philips and the rest of the 107th would be waiting for them.

After they get back to the camp Steve rushes to Colonel Philips leaving the Howling Commandos by their truck

"Good job out there Rogers, I had my doubts but your team pulled through" The Colonel looked around briefly. "I don't see Sargent Barnes"

"Sir, Bucky fell. We need to go look for him. It's about six miles down from here. I need to take my team to look for him"

"Rogers, we just bagged Zola I can't allow-"

"If he's alive do we really want him in enemy hands?" Steve was trying to play into the Colonel's reasoning and hoped that the idea that Bucky could give away critical intelligence would be enough to convince him. He knew Bucky would never, but Colonel Philips didn't.

The Colonel paused and sighed deeply. Looking like he wanted to say no, but there was an uncharacteristic softness around his eyes when he looked at Steve

"You and the rest of your team take the winter tank. You get an hour, get down there and get back. With or without Barnes"

Steve almost felt like crying, all of his buried feelings coming back in a sudden overwhelming surge. He had to move now, he couldn't stand the thought of Bucky, laying in the snow in whatever condition he was in. Alive or dead he was going to bring him home. Back to his mother and back to Becca.

He went back to the truck where the rest of his Howling Commandos were waiting. They were all staring at their boots forlornly. Gabe had told them about Bucky.

Marching past them at high speed towards where the tanks were stationed he called to them "Follow me"

Instantly they marched into the step with him, their guns now slung over their backs from where they were resting on the hood of the car.

Dugan's hands where curled into fists

"Where are we headed Captain?"

"Back, were going to find Bucky"

The group rushed to the tank and took off, heading back out of the camp and down the mountain. Heading for the ravine where Bucky fell.

As they were going Falsworth calculated the approximate search distance from where Bucky fell to where he could have landed. Calculating in wind, landing place and slope, potential debris intervention and if he was alive how far he realistically would have been able to travel on his own.

That gave them a 2.4 square miles for a search radius

They made their way back to the ravine and Steve's heart sped up, knowing that soon he would have an answer to his bruning question.

Would he be fine Bucky warm or cold?

They stopped the tank and walked the last 3 miles to reach the edge of the radius and spread out. Walking in a line down the ravine. One person on either side of a small half frozen lake. Steve took point, walking several paces ahead of the rest. Though he walked slow, his head constantly on a swivel, there was steadfast determination in each step.

He walked, his face searching the snow and the trees that dotted the ravine. He didn't care that his teeth were chattering and he couldn't feel his nose or his fingers. He had to keep looking until his hour was up.

He walked until he heard Dugan call out. He was crouched near the edge of the edge of the forest.

Steve sprinted, his leg carrying him across the ravine in 7 seconds flat.

The others joined him quickly and here they all saw what Dugan had found.

Bucky was lying on his back. Blood covering his face, a bruise on his eye and a bad gash on the right side of his head. He had blood in his teeth, the white turned stained with the fluid. His breathing was disjointed, full of spluttering and coughing. He didn't take a full breath in, the only indication he was actually breathing was the way his chest jumped. His exposed skin was slowly turning purple and blue. His lips, nose and holes in his gloves indicating as such.

But as Steve let his eyes rake over Bucky's body he realised why Jim had been looking away.

The arm of his vest had been torn away and it was ripped and fraying. The place where his arm should have been was pouring blood, what should have been his bone was stained red. It was snapped, fractured as it stuck out of him and the blood was everywhere.

His arm was laying a few feet away in the tree line. Steve followed the trail of blood connecting the two and he felt like collapsing

There was too much of it, and it just kept coming. He didn't understand how there was so much. The way it stained the dead twigs and snow underneath him. The way it pooled and ran like a river of death. It's warm and sticky texture melting away the snow and carving a trail down the slope to the frozen water below.

A younger Steve would have vomited at the sight of all the blood, his stomach felt queasy but he held up and instead he bent down scooping Bucky up in his arms.

Bucky groaned and cried out in pain. He hoped to God it wasn't irreparable back injury

"Don't move. You'll be ok" Steve said desperately looking down at Bucky in his arms.

It was strange. Bucky had always been the one to carry him. He had always been bigger. Stronger. But he somehow seemed too small in Steve's hands.

Without hesitating the group went back to the tank. Steve holding Bucky as close to his chest as possible. He had peeled back the top of his suit. Taking off his undershirt as he walked with Bucky in one hand. Taking the shirt and using it to stanch the bleeding until they could get back to the supplies in the tank.

Bucky's eyes were open but he couldn't see anything. He could feel movement and something holding onto him. But none of it was making sense inside of his head. The moving sky and the lack of cold snow under him. The muffled voice he knew were shouting but still couldn't hear were filling his ears amongst the ringing inside his head.

His head ached, his back aches, his arm felt like it was on fire and his face felt swollen.

It was all he could feel. His own body was so alive with pain of all kinds in all places. He wanted to cry out but couldn't manage more than a choked gurgle.

He felt whatever was gripping him tightly grip even tighter. Then he was being raised, his eyes seeing the sky come closer. And then it sunk away and he was taken into darkness, a small yellow light being the only source for him to see. Everything was fuzzy and the dim light made it hard for him to focus on anything.

He felt fear, immeasurable fear but all he could do was lay there. He thought of something else, searching his aching head for anything that wasn't the feelings coursing through him.

He thought of Steve. His short straw coloured hair and the way he always made sure to brush it flat and slick it still with gel in the mornings. A habit he's had since childhood.

Or the way he was before the serum, the small scrawny boy he had protected all throughout school. The boy who was too stupid to run away from a fight even though he never won.

He thought about how Steve was always sick. Catching whatever was going around at the time.

He thought about the time he had gotten sick and how Steve had refused to leave his side. The way Bucky would cough and Steve would hand him a glass of water or rush to get him food. The way Steve would sit and read him the Hobbit over and over again because he couldn't sit up long enough to actually get through a page.

He thought of Steve until everything went dark and everything disappeared.

Steve waited, he waited for a whole week by Bucky's side. They had gotten back to the camp and the field Doctors had spared as many men as they could to staunch the blood. Realising they didn't have the proper materials they needed to properly cauterize a wound of this size they took him in one of the medic cars and to the closest Austrian hospital. Steve of course was with them the whole way. The only time he wasn't allowed in was during surgery where they cauterised the wound. Howard had seen what had happened and had rushed off to a lab he owned in Austria and began working on...something.

Steve applauded Howard's brilliance but he had no clue how Howard would A) have have any machine that would help and B) create a machine that would save Bucky's life in time.

So Steve waited. Watching as the hands ticked by on the clock until a nurse came and addressed him. She told him that they were able to stop the bleeding and create a makeshift patch until Mr Stark got here.

He was stable, but he wouldn't wake up for a while.

Steve nodded and thanked her.

She lead him to the room Bucky was resting in. He was laying out on the white linens his face was just as white. They had him connected to an IV drip and a blood bag.

Steve reached and touched it tenderly. He didn't know why his hand stretched for the plastic. Possibly the check if it was real, he needed to know that Bucky would survive. That Bucky wouldn't just slip away and this would all be some horrible dream.

If it was a dream Bucky might still be alive and healthy. But he didn't think so. He'd had nightmares worse than this and had woken up once the worst was over.

'Maybe the worst wasn't over yet' he thought to himself

He mentally slapped himself trying to whisk the thoughts away with the fact that Bucky was right here. He was breathing and he would be ok.

He hoped

Ok guys I am turning this into a full AU but I'm only gonna start after promptober is over. You're gonna have to bear with me for a little while longer.

[yeehawbvby]

Silver and Gold, Blood and Snow (Gortash x GN!Dark Urge)

Rating: Teen+ (Mentions of canon-typical violence)

Summary: Midwinter is a tenday away, and it has Gortash reminiscing about your holiday celebration just a few years prior.

Author’s Note: This was written as a Ko-fi request for the wonderful @liquid-coffeebear !! It takes place before the events of BG3, but after Durge got Orin'd. The Durge's race, height, gender, etc. are all left completely ambiguous. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do! :D x

Check it out on ao3!

Snow was bountiful in the Lower City this winter.

Enver watched from the balcony as children played outside his fortress: trudging their way through the knee-high substance, pelting snowballs at one another, and letting even the weakest hit knock them down, just to have an excuse to lay atop the soft white sheets beneath them. He viewed passersby buying gifts for loved ones from the local booths and shops, arms full of burlap, and burlaps full of toys and jewelry and clothing galore. He gazed at the warm-blooded Dragonborn denizens walking freely in their typical daywear while the humans, halflings, and everyone else shivered beneath their copious layers.

The Lord had never been one for people-watching, more focused on his duties and plans for the future than those whom he’d spend it with. For some reason, though, he felt nostalgic this year.

He thought back to when you were around. Before Orin had… well, you know.

There was one Midwinter’s eve in particular that stuck out in his memory, as vivid as red on white. You had just finished wreaking havoc, as was your specialty; you would regularly fill the city’s citizens with dread, and leave them with a submissive and naïve hope for a better future that only their Lord could potentially grant them.

Blood had been splattered across the walls of every building you entered that day – the Upper City palace Enver had resided in at the time being the only exception – and in turn, crimson smears stained every inch of snow you stepped in. Of course, as a courtesy towards those you’d slain, you decorated their corpses with ribbons, and garland, and any other festive decor you could rip down from proximate displays. It was the least you could do, really.

In the midst of the chaos, you found time to steal a present for Enver. He’d complained at first that he had enough gold to buy himself anything he wanted. He appreciated the gesture, of course, but what need was there for such menial yearly practices when he could have all of Faerûn – perhaps all of the world – in his palm within the coming years?

You huffed, demanding in spite of your kind eyes that he take the damned gift before you slit his torso open and replace his viscera with it.

You truly were a being after his own heart.

He’d laughed, wordlessly taking the hastily wrapped box from you. After turning the lengthy object over in his hand for a moment, he peered up, only to view you staring intently at your own feet. Shyness was a rare look on you. It fueled Enver’s curiosity, prompting him to finally tear the parchment away from the wooden vessel.

Opening the small metal clasp revealed to him a set of golden gauntlets. There were two arm coverings that looked as if they could be a perfect fit for his person, and for his right hand only laid somewhat of a glove piece. Along with these came a set of rings, some of which resembled claws.

The ore had been molded into serpentine designs, yet within the right-hand adornment laid an empty crevice. It looked as though it was meant for a jewel of sorts, but the poor soul these had been lost to hadn’t had a chance to insert it yet.

Enver tilted his head, poring over every detail of the accessories. The back of his mind wondered just who these were originally for – certainly it must have been an elite, given the intricate craftsmanship – but his consideration evaporated as he realized it mattered not.

The poor soul was long gone anyway.

For the first time in ages, someone had rendered him speechless. He looked up at you, whose gaze was back on his. Your eyes glimmered with a hope you clearly hadn’t wanted to be seen. You knew he respected you as his equal; that he trusted you with his life, to rule his world alongside him… yet you seemed to search for his praise..?

It was silly, really. Of course you’d earned it. These were perfect for him. He closed the gap between the two of you, placing the box in your hands so he could try the gauntlets on. The rings fit splendidly. The arm pieces could use some adjusting, as they were a bit too snug, but it was nothing his personal smith couldn’t fix.

Using one of his newly equipped prosthetic nails, he tugged you closer, planting a kiss to your slightly chapped lips. It was all the approval you needed.

In the present day, Enver looked down at the gauntlets. He rarely removed them – they’d become an integral part to his aesthetic. The empty slot that once was now contained his beloved Netherstone. Not only did your gift have sentiment, but it served a grander purpose than you’d ever come to know.

Enver missed you. Orin was a fine accomplice, but if anyone was to be Bhaal’s chosen, it should have been you… and if anyone was to share his companionship, it needed to be you. His heart felt empty in your wake.

He headed back into his chambers, requesting a cup of mulled wine from one of his servants. The same blend you’d shared on that cold Midwinter’s eve.

This Midwinter was just a tenday away. Perhaps he’d have a lonely celebration of his own this year. He’d relax by a fire and drink in your honor, reminiscing of old times and musing what could have been.

[gaystay]

Forgive Me- Aomine Pt. 2

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: none!

You banged open your front door, blinded by tears. Your mind swirled with images from earlier: a peaceful park, a young couple playing together in the snow, the girl's bell-like laugh as she giggled with your (now ex) boyfriend, Aomine supporting himself against the doorframe as he tried to hold back tears while you screamed at him. The sound of his wretched, choked back sobs echoed in your ears. You were vaguely aware of your body moving by rote, locking the door, hanging up your coat, and removing your shoes. Tears still flooded down your cheeks, causing you to bump into several pieces of furniture since your vision was horribly blurry. Some small part of your brain registered that you'd have some nasty bruises the next morning.

You came back to your senses with water pouring down your head. You felt cold tile against your back, at odds with the hot water pooling around your legs. You sat against the shower wall, arms wrapped around your knees. Your eyes were puffy and red, your nose was running and you gasped for breath. Steam fogged up the shower, the air so thick with it that you huffed, trying to get a breath of air that wasn't hot and humid. How long had you been sitting in here? Your legs shook as you hauled yourself up, reaching for the tap to shut off the water. Your hands trembled even as you stepped out and wrapped yourself in the fluffiest towel you could find. You didn't bother putting anything else on. It wasn't like it mattered anyway. Nobody was going to see you. You flopped down on the couch with a heavy sigh. Your voice was raw from crying and your face was surely blotchy and tearstained. You leaned back, sinking into the cushions. They were so warm, so inviting, maybe you should just stay there for-

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!!!

You lurched up. It came again, thunderous knocking on your front door. You flinched back. Who the hell would be knocking like that? And who on earth would show up, completely uninvited, at this time of-

''Y/N please! I know you're in there!'' 

Your heart caught in your throat. It was Aomine, of course, and he sounded terrible. You'd never heard such a pleading, desperate tone from him, and his voice was clearly as ragged as yours. He pounded on the door again, calling out to you. 

''Please! Let me explain! I promise I would never cheat on you baby, I love you! Please, please just LET ME IN!''  

All of a sudden, your anger boiled up. You had been hesitating by your door, but now you slammed your fist into it, shocking Aomine into silence.

''Shut up, SHUT UP!!!'' 

He stayed quiet, probably shocked. You growled in frustration and stamped the floor, trying to hold down the tide of anger that flooded over you.

''Why did you even come here? What reason do I have to let you in?''

''Y/N please, let me-''

''No! NO WAY!'' You were taken aback at your own volume, stopping to gasp for breath. ''IF YOU WANT TO EXPLAIN SO BAD, YOU CAN DO IT OUT THERE!'' You leaned against the door, panting, waiting. You could hear him take a deep breath on the other side of the door.

''Baby-'' he began.

''Don't baby me!''

''Y/N please- just listen, ok?'' His voice quavered. ''That girl you saw me with, she's an old friend. I met her in high school. She was a manager for another school's team, but she was always friendly with us. Most of us, most of us miracle genners, she already knew before we ever played her team. I met her at a gym before she played us.''

You scoffed. ''How is this supposed to make me want to take you back?''

''Wait!'' He cut in hurriedly. ''She has a boyfriend! She's with one of the guys I played, the really good one. They're really happy together. If you don't believe I'd never cheat on you, at least believe that she would never cheat on him, ok? I've been wanting to introduce you to her for so long, but she hasn't been in town for ages!''

You folded your arms on your side of the door. You wanted to stay skeptical, but he sounded so torn up! It was taking everything you had not to open the door and beg him to forgive you, but you managed. You tried for a disbelieving sniff.      

''So then what was she doing here then? Why didn't you tell me she was here if you wanted me to meet her?''

''Y/N... you were supposed to meet her tomorrow. She came down here to help me prepare for our anniversary, she- she's a really great cook. She came to help me make your favorite dinner, and she helped decorate the whole house too! I asked her for help because I wanted our anniversary to be perfect for you and she was so excited... she really wanted to meet you.'' He paused, choking back tears once again.  

After an awkward minute of silence, you realized you were staring at the door, tears running quietly down your cheeks. Before you knew it your hand was on the lock, shaking as you undid it and flung the door open. Aomine's eyes widened, visibly lighting up with hope.

''Y/N! Are-'' You tackled him with a hug, shutting your eyes tightly and burying your face in his chest.

''I am so, so, SO sorry Daiki! I shouldn't have assumed anything! Oh my God, why didn't I let you explain the first time? Fuck Daiki, I am so sorry, I- fuck- I'm sorry!''

He chuckled, holding you to him tightly, still sniffling a bit.

''It's ok baby, it's ok. I know.''

''Damnit Daiki, I love you!''

''I love you too.'' 

You wrapped your arms tighter around him. He slowly walked you back into your apartment and closed the door behind you so you didn't have to stand in the hallway awkwardly. He stroked your hair gently, trying to stifle his own tears. You glanced up slowly, looking him in the eyes for the first time. 

''.....Maybe we can still salvage our anniversary?'' You hedged. He looked down at you, his eyes softer than you'd ever seen. A small smile flitted across his face.

''How about... takeout and movies on the couch?'' He said, tilting his head at you. You grinned, face flushing a little as he looked down at you adoringly. 

''That sounds perfect.''  

He grinned down at you, gently running his hands through your hair.

''Hey Daiki?''

''Yeah?''

''You... still love me?''

''Of course babe.''

''So you'll still be my boyfriend?''

He laughed heartily, a good, solid sound that made you feel more whole for having heard it.

''Does that mean you forgive me?'' He said, playfully raising an eyebrow. You nodded enthusiastically. He grinned, cheeks flushing a deep red. 

''Then I'll always be your boyfriend.''   

Yay! Part 2 ends a lot happier than part 1! But watch out, because this is only one way this story could end...

@multi-fandom-fanfic

[pankowperfection]

A Christmas to Remember

Summary: proposal season always brings you down, until its your turn

Warnings: none other than extreme cuteness

Unlike many others he had dated, you had known Rudy since middle school. You had seen him go from a shy, lanky kid into a handsome, talented man and you had somehow loved him through it all, whether you were willing to admit it or not. After dating off and on through high school you had drifted apart; you moving away to go to college and Rudy starting his acting career. The timing just never seemed to work out no matter how much you both wanted it to.

You couldn’t remember exactly how you had come back into each other’s lives, all you knew was that as soon as it happened you were all in. You quickly dove back into your old routines, falling back into a comfortable relationship that quickly flourished. Moving in together, adopting pets, everything seemed to come easily. Except for a proposal. Each year you were together you got your hopes up that it would finally be time to get engaged, but each time you were disappointed. 

His hesitancy to commit further was frustrating. After all, nothing would really change other than a stronger commitment to each other. He had even mentioned multiple times about how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, unable to imagine each day without you by his side. The holidays always brought along further disappointment, every day seeing more and more women get engaged. You even debated deleting your social media until after the season had passed, tired of feeling like your moment would never come. 

On your way to your hometown to visit with family he takes an unexpected turn. “Rudy - where are you going babe? You were supposed to keep going straight back there.” He smiles, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives back a two lane country road. “Relax sweetheart. I have a surprise that you’re going to love.” Your heart kicks up a beat, anxiety wracking your system at the thought of what it could be. After all, you weren’t a huge fan of surprises.

Your opinion changes immediately when you pull up to the beginning of a huge Christmas Lights Festival. The soft glow of each display makes the snow on the ground sparkle, drawing your eyes to take in the beauty in front of you. “Oh my gosh. It's beautiful!” you exclaim as you exit his car. He takes your hand, leading you down a winding path that leads through the different displays. Each part of the festival is themed: Toy Land, Under the Sea, Space, Dinosaurs, each set of lights somehow more impressive than the last.

He can’t help but smile at you, your face lighting up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. Christmas lights were always one of your favorite parts of the season, bringing back those warm fuzzy feelings you associate with holiday magic. You stop to take in the favorite piece you have crossed so far, synchronized snowflakes in all different colors twinkling across the archways. Rudy pulls out his phone to snap a few candid photos of the wonder on your face, wanting to capture the moment. “You look beautiful in the snow,” he murmurs, pulling you in for a sweet kiss before taking your hand again and leading you around the bend in the sidewalk. 

You could never have been prepared for the next display. In large letters, the words “Will you marry me?” are spelled out in flashing red and green lights that dance to the beat of the music playing. You turn around searching for Rudy, thinking surely this must be some kind of joke. Instead you find him down on one knee, unshed tears in his eyes as he holds up a little black box with a beautiful diamond ring inside. You tremble as you walk towards him, tears already sliding down your cheeks, truly not believing that this is really happening. “Y/n, I love you so much. With all of my heart. You have always been there for me for all of my successes and failures. I can’t imagine spending my life without you by my side. Princess, will you marry me?” 

Your legs can no longer hold you up, dropping to your knees in front of him as he reaches to wipe the tears from your face. “Yes Rudy. Yes!” He slides the ring onto your finger and time stops. The lights fade into the background as you take in the sheer euphoria of this moment. He folds you into his arms, peppering kisses all over your face before cupping your cheeks softly, sealing the moment with a kiss on your lips. Minutes seem to pass before you break apart, his megawatt smile mirroring yours as he helps you to your feet. This surprise couldn’t have been more perfect and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 

You spend the rest of the evening in pure bliss, sipping hot chocolate as you sit beside a bonfire snuggled against Rudy’s side. “I can’t wait to tell everyone. They’re gonna be so happy.” He smiles, hugging you tightly as he basks in the warmth from your smile. “I can’t wait for you to be my wife. We better hire a wedding planner so I don’t have to wait too long - Mrs. Pankow.” Your stomach flips at the sound of him calling you by his last name, having dreamt of the opportunity for years. “That has a nice ring to it,” you whisper, pulling him in by the front of his coat for another kiss. “Yes fiancé, it sure does.” You pull out your phone, snapping a picture of you sitting in his lap with the ring easily visible within the frame. You post it with the caption “Future Mrs. Pankow”.

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @drewbooooo @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @I-always-come-back-xoxo @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge @rosetintednorth

[medicinal-doll]

Frostbitten.

Title: Frostbitten. (part one)

Vampire!Geralt rivia x reader

Words: 700

Summary: Your usual morning stroll goes wayward when a blizzard rolls in driving you into an unknown biome of the forest

Warnings:running,chasing,fear,drugging

A/N: This is part one to how the reader met her masters (Geralt,Bucky,Ari)

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me

............

The weather was cold...unforgiving.And for someone who's not a local, it was fucking freezing.

That day you set out for your usual nature walk. And despite the fact you were new to the area. The weather seemed nice enough.

But oh how wrong your were.

The snowflakes cut at your skin as the piercing cold roared through whatever garment you have on.You clutch the hood of the feeble coat around you trying to shield yourself from the element's assault.

When the blizzard started you were sure you turned around heading back in the direction of your cabin.

But as you trudge aimlessly through the infinite forest, doubt starts to settle in your mind.

Then you see a clearing.

Dead grey trees seemingly drained of all life.And even the snow seems to be weary of trespassing this neck of the woods.

You wish you could say the same.

But the growing hypothermia in your blood has your thoughts open to suggestion.

You enter the gloomy abyss.Making sure to tread lightly but with haste.As to not alert the potentially dangerous residents in the area of your presence.

SPLASH!

You dart your head in the direction of the noise.

It happened in an instant and unless you're hallucinating which given your condition is a high probability right now.

You could've sworn you saw a giant spider tackling a man into the black lake.

You squint your eyes at the water but it remains still

I guess it really was your mind playing tricks on y-

A man arose from the lake clad in thick black leather his skin as pale as the snow itself.

He steadies himself, and when his eyes land on you, an internal shriek sounds from your throat.

His eyes are darkness itself, pupils spilling to the very edges of his corneas.dark purple veins coloring his eyebags.

And you swear you saw fangs threatening to peek through.

You grip your hood so tight that the fabric begins to unravel.

"Are you lost"

His eyes envelope your form like vines as he looks at you like tonight's dinner, not wasting a second to blink in fear he might lose sight of you.

Fuck. This.

You sprint in the other direction.

You can't go back through the snow even though you could easily lose him in there.

If he didn't get to you the cold would.

Your lungs work double time hauling your shivering frame through the thorny thicket of trees.

Eventually you stop, giving yourself a few minutes of down time.

You look around but there's nothing.the forest is still unlike your heartbeat.You rest a hand on your chest trying to calm yourself and steady your breathing.

But off in the distance you spot a looming figure, leaning against a tree looking directly at you.

Smiling at you.

And from this far you can see 2 sets of sharp canines.

"N-no.." you whisper but it feels more like you convincing yourself that this isn't happening.That you're not being hunted by A demonic apparition, In a strange thicket of woods that resembles the likes of an underworld.

You run again.

Farther than the last, body more exhausted than the first.

But there he is again.

Taunting you.

Teasing you.

Encouraging you to drain your stamina more just so he can rack up the deliciousness of your beating heart and heaving chest.

What is he doing... warming up your blood before his feast or something?

Why doesn't he just kill you.

Your legs are tattered in scraps and cuts.

Your appearance beyond disheveled.

With your lungs collapsed and your spirit broken. you slump to your knees willing to accept whatever fate the hollow stranger bestows upon you.

Your eyes are fixed on the ground too afraid to witness the horrific scene that's about to occur.

Certain A painful bloody death is what awaits you.

Huge leather black boots enter your view and a helpless shudder traverses your spine.

The man crouched to your level and unzipped a pocket emptying some purple herbs in his palm, easily crushing them by hand.

You dare not look into his obsidian eyes.

Gloved fingers grab a hold of the back of your neck pulling your face towards the crushed powder.

You try to resist.

But just from what you've witnessed, his strength is far greater than anything you could dream of.

He holds the herbs to your nose.And it's not long before your body cries out for oxygen.Your hands claw at the inevitable hold he has on your neck.As you reluctantly take in the potent aroma.

A somberness spreads through you.

"Go to sleep little bunny" His husk voice encourages you into the dark void.

And you let the warm drowsy feeling take A hold of you.As the light fades from your vision, and the snow becomes nothing but a hazy memory.

[sirnotsircos]

A Very Sapphic Chrimis

🎄🎄🎄

Hey Ho! I've been dwindling away on my own falling head over heels for these silly lil sapphic OCs. I was supposed to be actual plot writing today but a "Christmas in a countryside castle" playlist auto-played on youtube and well now I've written some fluff instead.

MAN DO I WISH I COULD DRAW IT COULD A CUTE LIL COMIC BUT NOOOOOO 😩

So instead here's the same scene from both POVs

B/c there's no context what-so-ever here's a brief low down:

Denali: Ex-high Demoness, Hell ex-pat (it's hell in hell), stoic tall willowy mommy with a muted color pallet.

Nephili: Half-Angel ghost hunter, stout, curvy, and a bubbly mess of wonderful curly hair.

(these are neither of their real names, but celestial and demonic rarely translate well to earthly languages)

A Very Sapphic Chrimis 1.0 (Denali)

Delani gazed up at the granite mansion through the fog of her hot breath hanging in the cold winter air. She was quite proud of this estate, she hadn’t even had to kill anyone for this one. No, she’d earned it all on her own…after her dear friend Fredrick had passed away and left it to her.  She did not kill him, nor have him killed. She didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. 

The murky glass windows glowed warm with lamp light, the trails of deep green cedar branches Nephili had woven along all the running trim of the first level was lit up with string lights. The heavy iron planters Denali had never bothered to fill were now over flowing with greans and stray brancnhes, curling and twisting sprigs of deep red roots and great big red and white star shaped flowers. Denali’s heart was swelling at every twinkle light, ever colorful bobble and ribbon, her home had never quite looked so homey. 

“Dens?” Nephili’s voice chimed through the silence of the snow covered world. 

“Yes, Darling?” Denali turned to her love, knee deep in snow with her dark sprawling hair dotted with snowflakes like stars take to the night sky. 

Her glasses had been solved up into ther hair, sleet painting the lenses. Denali knew she’d be untangling them later.

“What’s your full name?” Nephili had been off in the woods all day collecting foliage for the house, the hounds prancing around her melting trails in the snow with their flaming breath. She hadn’t even come inside to warm up before getting to work. Her nose was red and runny, and her cheeks pink from the cold, but still she smiled and her eyes were shining. 

“It’s dreadful,” Denali frowned, “I have to make my tongue all long to say it.” 

“Oh,” Nephili chewed at her bottom lip, and consideration crossed her features, “I’d still like to hear it. Even if it’s just once.”

Those big dumb golden brown orbs grew tree sizes and Denali had to remind herself it was infact below freezing and she, an ex-high demoness would not be melting at the feet of this half morta- oh who was she kidding. 

“Fine,” Denali rolled her eyes in faux annoyance to cover for her weak will, “I suppose it has been an awfully long time since even I’ve said it out loud. I-well, I’m going to-”

Denali considered her words.

“Get kind of toothy,” she regretted the words she chose immediately.

“Toothy?” Nephili eyebrows went up.

“Yeah, for the long tongue to like move aroun- you know what,” Denali sighed, “I’ll just show you.”

Denali thought hard about her face, how it used to look when she occupied hell as nothing but a spawn, she had no will over her form. She could feel her jaw drop and elongate, her already fanger teeth shunted all which ways, skewing to make odd irregular gaps. Next was her tongue, long like a serpent dripping in drool and ichor, lashing around her knew jagged maw. 

It really sounded alot like hissing and gargling and two to three coughs and not at all as short and sweet and Denali. There were six-teen syllables in all and Denali wondered how she and her family had ever used to get it out so quickly and casually in the first place. Should she ever see her again, she’d need to have a long talk with her mother. As the name settled it’s time on her tongue, Denali began to focus on her new face, the one she’d grown most accustomed to. 

“Huh,” Nephili quirked her head to the side, her eyes dragging along the long lashing tongue before her, “that was long as fuck.”

Unable to speak just yet Denali nodded and blinked in aggreance. She was right, even for demons it was a lot.

“Sweetheart?” Nephili’s voice rang sweet as a bell.

Denali had just about finished contorting her face back.

“Keep the tongue out for a bit,” Nephili rose to her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to Denali’s cheek, turned and started towards the house, “you haven’t thanked me for decorating the house yet. I think I’d like a go with it.”

Denali’s tongue, which was in the process of shrinking, stopping in it’s tracks. Bright red blush bloomed across her cheeks and she found her eyes fell, most depravedly on her loves ass as he swayed up the steps. 

This was going to be a most merry Christmas, indeed.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

A Very Sapphic Chrimis 2.0 (Nephili)

Nephili trailed behind the dogs as they zigzagged deep melted paths through the snow, yipping and panting happily at the cool sensation of the snow on their bodies. The good boys loved it up here in the winter, even for hell hounds there was a limit to how much heat they really enjoyed. She’d been sending them to and from the house all day to clear a path for her as the snow kept falling. Annoyingly enough Denali seemed to just be able to do some demon magic shit to walk stop the snow as if it were little more than an inch deep. Whereas Nephili guessed it would be up to her knees by now if she didn’t have the dogs and perhaps her waist by the time it was done flailing in the morning. 

Nephili toted the last cluster of greens for one of the giant iron planters at teh front door in a bundle behind her. The tips of her toes were just now starting to feel the cold creep in, her angelic blood kept a lot of her more mortal weakness at bay for longer periods of time than a normal human but still her cheeks were raw and if she screwed her eyes up just right she could see how pink her nose was. She’d long since shed her glasses, her breath had frozen across the lenses and refused to defrost with a wipe of her mittens. 

Denali’s slender form bowed to and fro across the lit windows of the mansion as Nephili approached. From here she couldn’t see what exactly Denali was doing but she was milling about the kitchen and judging from the grace with wich she moved she was in a good enough mood to be levitating. Nephili hoped dearly she was baking. Her macarons were out of this world, made purely with ingredients found in this world Denali had assured her. Oh, or maybe it was one of those orange walnut cakes, or-  Nephili’s stomach growled. 

With a new found determination and efficiency Nephili arranged the greens and red roots and bobbles,  and threw lights in whatever depths of the planter would take them. By the time she was done a warm smell had starter the waft through the old unsealed windows and Nephili’s stomach was positively dancing at the thought of what could be rising in that oven. So, she called out for her love and scurried back several paces until the house was in full view, her sweeping garlands and woven lights all perfectly arranged.

Denali stared, and stared, and then stared some more. She stared so long that Nephili ended up staring at Denali while waiting for a reaction. She stared at the demoness for so long that her mind strayed into every thought that barely grazed her peripheries. Did Denali like it? Did she even like Christmas? Has she celebrated christmas? Are we going to send out cards like as a couple? Because if we do I’m going to need to sign my name name instead of Nephili. Does Denali have a name name. Wait, of course she does. She said she need a long tongue for that. How long. And big teeth. Can she just do the tongue. How useful is it?

“Dens?” Nephili’s voice reach out before her train of through had even come to a safe and complete stop.

“Yes, Darling?” Denali turned to her, her long silver hair flowing like a stream of crystal water and her fiery eyes glowing like embers. She likes the house. 

Denali had come out in her “at home only” suit, which was a drapey satin pant suit with no structure that she often wore with no blouse underneath so that the glow of her blade she’d pressed into her torso as a tattoo for the time being. Easy access to the blade…amoungst other things. Nephili tried to clear her head. 

“What’s your full name?” Gods she wanted to see that tongue.

“It’s dreadful,” Denali frowned, “I have to make my tongue all long to say it.” 

“Oh,” Nephili chewed at her bottom lip, she already knew that “I’d still like to hear it. Even if it’s just once.”

Nephili had one trump card, it was reserved for only the most dire of circumstances. She looked up through her thick lashes, and her eyes grew. Not so much that she looks like a cartoon but enough so that she could see that fragile demoness willpower begin to crumble. It took six seconds. New record.

“Fine,” Denali rolled her eyes in faux, “I suppose it has been an awfully long time since even I’ve said it out loud. I-well, I’m going to-”

Denali paused, thinking.

“Get kind of toothy,” she finished with a frown.

“Toothy?” Nephili eyebrows went up.

“Yeah, for the long tongue to like move aroun- you know what,” Denali sighed, “I’ll just show you.”

Nephili watched as Denali’s face began to changed, her jaw elongating and growing monstrous. The skin on her cheeks stretched taunt and hollow, great big fangs forming and shifting around. And then came the tongue. It as long and agile, flicking around in skilled arcs. Huh. Nephili bit down on her bottom lip and rolled out her neck to remain respectful. That familiar pull on her lower stomach doing its best to thwart that effort. 

Denali finally spoke and boy was it horrendous, not because it wa a demon name but because her mother was a psychopath and it was sixteen syllables longs and halfway through there was a choking noise that had Nephili genuinely concerned for a breath. Now she understood why Denali didn’t use it. 

“Huh,” Nephili quirked her head to the side, her eyes dragging along that glorious tongue, “that was long as fuck.”

Unable to speak just yet Denali nodded and blinked in aggreance, her face already smoothing back out to that definitivel regal face Nephili had grown so used to.

“Sweetheart?” Nephili smiled sweetly.

Denali had just about finished contorting her face back.

“Keep the tongue out for a bit,” Nephili jumped up to her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to Denali’s cheek, smiling as she watched Denali’s feet lift just off the top of the snow, “you haven’t thanked me for decorating the house yet. I think I’d like a go with it.”

Nephili started back towards the house happy there was still a semblance of a path left by the dogs for her to walk though. It would be much easier to weaponizes her hips of she wasn’t having to trudge back through knee deep snow. 

She was going to get laid and then eat some damn cake.

This was going to be a merry Christmas, indeed.

[weskin-time]

Baby It’s Cold Outside

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x GN!Reader

not beta read. i used google translate for the Gaelic so sorry if it isn’t correct.

i’m getting back into the groove of writing so i’m sorry if this is stale and kinda sucks!

mo chridhe- my heart

mo leannan- my sweetheart

It was forbidden to date outside your rank. You could get in serious trouble by violating the code, it could fuck up the chain of command and ruin both peoples lives. But there was something about Sargent John ‘Soap’ MacTavish that just set your heart ablaze. After a long song and dance he confessed to you, and you to him, but came to an agreement that you two wouldn’t become anything until you got promoted from corporal to sargent.

It was hard to hide these feelings in public, it was little smiles shared, whispered words in each others ears, he praised you more than other members of 141 or anyone in any squad he was in, Gaz teased you the most that Soap had a crush on you. You and Soap haven’t even kissed each other let alone did anything not safe for work, there was no real label to put on what you two were. You weren’t dating, it wasn’t a situationship if you both tried very hard to avoid anything sticky that would leave others a hint to what was going on between you too.

Tonight was one of those nights that could get you in trouble.

Winter was fast approaching, snow littered the ground and the air was filled with chills. It was the season you wear black leggings under your uniform instead of the black knee high socks, a little loop hole you found during uniform inspection. Currently you were in Johns dorm on base, you snuck in like a you were high school lovers trying to be quiet making sure the coast was clear before slipping in. You snuck into each others dorms some nights to have secret dates.

You’ve already been here for an hour, talking and sipping warm drink’s together, you were pushing your luck by staying any longer.

“Another cup o’ coco?” he was seated on the head of his bed while you sat on the foot watching Mythbusters being played on a shitty desktop on a desk across the small room.

You never liked the Army’s barracks. The Air Force was much nicer, and they had way better rooms, they were bigger and didn’t feel like a stuffy box with a bed.

You moved on the bed so your feet planted on the ground yet you didn’t move, “I want to John but I really should go before we get caught.” You didn’t want to leave the warmth of Soaps room and enter the cold frozen winter wastes of the outside just to trudge in the snow till you got to your own dorm room.

“Aye but we wont mo chridhe.” he tried to reassure you. “Stay for a bit longer. please?” He leaned closer to you placing his hand on your own.

You took his hand in your own and got up, moving past him and to the window pulling back the blinds only to see pure white outside. It was snowing bad outside. You sat back down on the bed hands still intertwined. “It’s a borderline blizzard out there.” You sighed.

“Then stay till it blows over! I don’t want cha’ getting a cold sweetheart.” He pulled you by your interlocked hands for you to press into him, your back to his chest as he leaned up against the headboard and pillows of his bed with his large arm wrapped around your waist hand still in his own larger one. His body heat seeped into your skin almost convincing you of staying, you loved it when he called you pet names.

“Give me your big puffy jacket and i’ll be fine walking back to my dorm.” you smiled and nestled yourself into his hold.

“No, I can’t find it I think ya’ should just stay like this and finish this season with me before heading out.” He spoke into your hair as he rested his chin on your head.

“We’re on the second episode John, it’ll be spring by the time this seasons over.” A smile danced across your lips. You really had no intention to leave just yet but you liked how he was pleading with you to stay with him for a while longer. It felt domestic, it felt like something you shouldn’t be chasing the high of but it felt like you two were a real couple with you being in his arms watching Mythbusters. He gave a soft chuckle.

Soap was silent for a good while, a comfortable feeling in the air hung loose in his room, he just held you and tried to put the feeling of you in his arms in his long term memory. When the next episode began to play he craned his neck down so his lips were close to your ear before whispering to you. “Chan eil mi airson feitheamh gus a bhith còmhla riut. Tha mi airson innse dhut gu bheil gaol agam ort a-nis.”

“What did you say?” you turned your head to try and look at him but he hid his face so you couldn’t look at him.

His voice held a hint of sadness and yearning as he spoke, “I just said how i think your eyes are beautiful.”

“Oh John stop.” you giggled and gave a weak slap to his wrist.

He squeezed you before removing his hand and grabbing the covers of his bed and placed them on you two. “What? Cant I tell ya how much I love your smile? How i love hearing ya bark out commands to troops like it doesn’t make me want to kiss ya?” His voice was back to its usual self now.

You wiggled around flipping yourself over so you were now chest to chest, you settled in between his spread thighs and rested your hands on his chest, you looked up at him with a smile on your face. “Flattery isn’t going to make me stay John.”

“But it’s so cold out there and it’s so warm in here, in my bed, cuddled up together, in my arms.” He grabbed the blanket again and moved it to rest on your shoulders.

“You’re going to have to try another method to make me stay you dork.” You didn’t want to get in trouble and possibly never get the promotion you desperately wanted so you could openly be with Soap but this little back and forth charade was too fun, too warm in your heart for you to stop, it was light hearted banter and he knew you were going to stay for longer as you cuddled up to him.

“What if I kiss ya?” His blue eyes bore into your own, a slight blush kissed his cheeks and tip of his nose. “Would that sway ya into staying?” His voice dropped an octave as he whispered.

You think he could hear your heart beating with how fast and hard it was pounding in your ribs. His eyes glanced down to your lips before searching your eyes again, he wanted to make sure it was okay with you before he went ahead and did it, what a sweet hearted gentleman.

You smiled up at him, “Well I think you’re gonna have to find that out for yourself MacTavish.” You teased.

His left arm wrapped around the small of your back while his right hand went to cup the base of your skull, his fingers intertwining in your hair as he pulled you closer to him. You chuckled and met him half way as you both closed your eyes. His lips were soft, slightly chapped but so were your own, it was winter after all. It was one short kiss you didn’t want to pull away from. The feeling of finally kissing him for the first time made your heart quiver and your face grow warm.

He pulled away slowly, “Will ya stay for a few more episodes now mo leannan?” A dopey smile danced across his lips as he looked down at you with soft adoration in his eyes.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, “I think i need a bit more persuasion hon.”

He kissed you again with no hesitation, his stubble of a beard tickled your face in a comforting way. People say when you kiss someone sparks fly, fireworks go off, or time stands still, but that only happens in movies and romance novels. Kissing him felt like a weight you didn’t know you had on your chest was lifted, feeling his lips move across your own made your heart buzz and your mind race as you took in his scent. You smiled into the kiss and he pulled you tighter to him. It was a soft and slow kiss, the kind from a shitty Hallmark movie, your heart felt like it was going to explode, like you were a teenager again kissing your crush for the first time.

You pulled away before you couldn’t anymore and got addicted to the feeling of him. A small whine left his throat and you think you might have died and went to heaven.

“Hmm fine.” You kissed his nose. “Three more episodes and one more cup of coco.”

His right hand moved from your skull to your neck keeping you in place as he peppered your face with kisses, his lips pressing against you cheeks, eyelids, and nose as you laughed and faintly screamed at the contact. “Alright alright!! how does five episodes sound?”

He placed one last kiss on your lips before moving his hand down your back to where his other one rested on the small of your back. “I don’t care how many episodes we watch i just want you warm and with me.”

[d4vynn]

"Can I Kiss You?" | Albedo

Contents: gn!reader, kissing obv

Synopsis: It's about time one of you made your move.

a/n: hihi

Dragonspine was as quiet as ever. Pure white snow and gray mountains painted a picture of untouched serenity. Howling winds and the occasional crunch of snow beneath your boots were the only sounds for seemingly miles around. It gave you time to think.

You didn't dislike the icy mountain, it was trekking through the knee-high snow and the frigid temperature that made it so exhausting. So after spending a whole day completing commissions, all you yearned to do was collapse into bed and fall into an endless slumber.

Your muscles groan and your stomach rumbles violently. To say you were suffering was an understatement. How much farther? You grunt, teeth chattering from the sheer cold.

"Hello? Is someone there?" A familiar voice calls out from the fog. You flinch, reaching for your sword when a figure steps out into your path. "Oh, you are..."

"Albedo." You heave a sigh, shoulders falling in relief. The blue-eyed alchemist hums, speaking once again.

"What brings you here today, Y/n? You look tired." He states matter-of-factly. You spot a clipboard and a messy sketch of... something. "Commissions- the usual." You huff out a laugh, straightening your posture while ignoring how his cerulean gaze seemingly bore into your soul.

"I see," he says. "Then, if you're all finished, why not come back to my campsite? You can rest for a while."

You perk up, suddenly remembering the cold tremors wracking through your body. But just as quickly, you shake your head. "I shouldn't, really." You decline, forcing a smile.

Albedo stares, then shakes his head. "You're shivering."

"That's- well--"

"Follow me." He says- no, orders.

It doesn't take long for the two of you to reach the campsite. It's cozy, and warm. Scattered pages lay in heaps upon his desk. You eyed the half empty bottles and bubbling solutions to your right.

You shake your head and turn to the alchemist to thank him, only to find him already staring at you. "You know, I'm starting to think you didn't invite me here out of the goodness of your heart." You joke, a coy smile pulling at your chapped lips.

"You're observant." Albedo nods, fiddling with the pages of research before him. You're left to wander on your own, letting the sounds of clinking glass the occasional shifting of papers lull you into a sense of calmness.

You throw glances over your shoulder, watching him work. He's cute. Memories of laying in bed while feelings for the alchemist rush at you full-force play in your mind. Just like a lovesick little schoolkid.

However, you're more than content with your relationship now. You're both busy people, and you doubt he could be focused on anything other than his research.

"Y/n." Albedo clears his throat. He's closer than you remembered; you can feel his breath on your neck. When did he...?

"Ye-Yeah?" You pivot on your heel, heartbeat spiking when you almost brush noses. Close. Close. Close.

He's beautiful. Your mind blanks when he brushes his cold fingers against your knuckles. Your lips part to speak but your words die on your tongue.

He seems amused by your reaction, evident by the smile playing along his lips. You step back- he steps forward, chasing the distance between you two. "Y/n," he repeats. "Your face is red."

Your mind races with all kinds of curses, questions, and screaming. Of course your face is red. He's leaning into you, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

His lips slot against yours, singlehandedly making your knees buckle. Soft. He smells like pine wood, and tastes of sugar. Vaguely, you remember Klee telling you about Albedo's recent addiction to sweets.

Your mind spirals, and your hands wander to desperately grasp onto his hoodie. For a guy that barely interacted with people, he was adept at kissing you senseless.

Reluctantly, you pull away. The way he chases after your lips makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"Albe--"

He surges forward again, chuckling against your lips. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, Albedo basks in the way you melt in his arms.

He's waited long enough.

[bratkook]

cozy thief. (m) jjk

pairing. jeon jungkook x reader genre. smut, fluff, mutual pining word count. 5.1k warnings. roommate!au, cuteness!! lots of kissing & heavy petting, hand in pants action and messy/needy humping from jungkook lol  summary. a rainstorm knocking out your power is the small push needed for confessions to come tumbling out author’s note. requested for #30 from this prompt list! thank you for sending this in 🖤 (requests now closed)

The bubbling water is the only thing you focus on as you rest against the countertop, hands tightly holding onto your fluffy blanket of choice to trap all of the warmth in before it could escape. The rhythmic pattering of rain against the windows has become background noise now, already accustomed to the sound that woke you up hours ago.

It’s therapeutic really, your fuzzy socks sliding along the floor as you pull out your favorite mug, grabbing the hot chocolate mix and mini marshmallows from their rightful spot in the pantry. You don’t even think about the ridiculous electric bill you’ll be getting from how high you currently have the heater cranked up, freezing to death was not worth saving a few bucks. 

Jungkook would agree, loving the fact that he didn’t have to worry about walking around the apartment in a snow coat and scarf. Sure you were currently bundled up as if the place wasn’t maintained at a steady 75 degrees, but from the time spent living together he had grown to learn that the minute there was rain or snow you would pull out the coziest blankets regardless of temperature. 

“Can you make me one too?” He speaks up as he leans against the mini island, smiling when your blanket clad body jumps at the unexpectant sound of his voice. 

The spoon clanks against the mug as you stop stirring the hot chocolate, turning your head back to take a peek at your roommate. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Jungkook laughs now, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt as he rounds the island to grab himself a mug. “What, should I wear a bell around my neck to let you know when I’m nearby?”

“Yeah actually, you sneak up on me all the time. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.” 

You eye his mug of choice, a Friends one that actually belonged to you, a little hard to believe considering it was the one he always used without fail. It was admittedly your fault for forcing him to binge watch the whole show on Netflix before it got taken off, but for someone who claimed he couldn’t stand it all he sure did cradle the themed mug with utmost care. 

“You’re easy to scare, can’t blame me for seeing an opportunity and taking it.” Sliding the mug in your direction he rests on his elbows, observing you as you pour in the hot water, mixing the cocoa powder and smiling when you get the first inhale of it. 

“Scare me some more and I’m revoking this mug privilege.” Jungkook knows it's an empty threat, the roll of his eyes calling your bluff so you just sigh, clutching the bag of mini marshmallows and bringing them close. “Yay or nay for the marshmallows?”

“Yay, what do I look like, an animal?” He scoffs, hand urging you to top off his drink with more sweets, a charming smile spreading out onto his face when you slide the mug over. 

Just as he’s about to take a sip you walk off, both hands cupping your drink as you slide your way out of the kitchen. “Wait, where are you going?”

You freeze at the doorway, turning around with a confused face, “To binge watch some movies in the living room? The vent by the couch makes it the best place to get toasty.”

“Mind if I join you?”

The audacity of him to ask as if he didn’t regularly crash your binging parties, still you nod your head before turning back around and continuing your trek, hearing the soft patter of his bare feet against the floor. 

“Why did you beg me to get you those cow slippers for your birthday if you refuse to wear them?” You wonder as you settle onto the couch, adjusting your blanket to circle around your lap as you bring your knees up. 

Jungkook sighs dramatically as he sits beside you, bringing his bare feet up and shoving them underneath the pile of blanket around you, laughing loudly when you yell at the feeling of his cold feet against your silk pajama pants. “Because they’re cute, besides I don’t need slippers because my roommate has the best blankets.”

Accepting your fate you simply glare at him, detesting the way he could look as good as he does while attempting to push your buttons. The smug smile against the rim of the mug shows that he knows he can get away with it, a playful wink being the icing on top as he reaches for the remote. 

You ignore the way your heart skips as he clicks onto your profile, already sorting through your favorite movies, knowing they were starred and saved under your list. As he passes Legally Blonde you gasp, almost undetected but he had been waiting for any reaction to know what to pick. 

“You know, this has become one of my favorite movies now.” He quietly confesses, pressing play and setting the remote down onto the coffee table. 

“Seriously?”

Jungkook hums as he takes another sip, eyes focused on the beginning scenes of Legally Blonde. This was definitely one of your comfort movies, even if he didn’t end up crashing your movie night he could still hear each scene from his bedroom, almost knowing every single line from how often you played it. 

He proves his point as the movie continues, the two of you slowly sinking further into the couch, no longer caring about him using your blanket as makeshift slippers as you laugh each time he recites a line, adding his own commentary as he goes. The mugs of hot chocolate are drained dry, pushed onto the coffee table, freeing up his hands that somehow wind up playing with your own in a mindless motion, slowly tracing down your fingers to gently clasp them together before pulling apart and repeating. 

Just as Elle Woods takes the floor to question the witness, the entire room goes black, Jungkook’s hands freezing on top of yours as you wait for a moment. With the loss of power you instantly feel the warmth begin to fade away, the vent right beside the couch no longer providing you the toasty escape you wanted. 

“It was getting to my favorite part.” He groans out, resting his head back onto the couch, something you can just barely see in the darkness. 

“Fuck is the whole block out of power?”

Jungkook pulls his hand away from yours as he stands up, knocking his knee into the coffee table and laughing as he tries to navigate through the dark living room. His silhouette makes it to the window, peering through it to see if maybe it was just your building that was shit out of luck, but the entire block is in fact dark. 

“Yup, it’ll probably come back soon though.”

After two more hours and another mug of hot chocolate it became very clear that the power wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Both of your phones lay screen down with the flashlight on as you finish up your drink once more, tightening the blanket around you now that the cold is becoming more prevalent. 

“We’re gonna freeze to death.”

“No we’re not, it's a rain storm not a blizzard outside. We should probably call it a night though, the floors are getting cold as fuck.”

He had still refused to put on his slippers, allowing the cold tile from the kitchen to turn his feet into icicles. “You act like you don’t own socks or slippers.”

Jungkook merely waves you off with a laugh, grabbing his phone from its spot on the counter. “Let me live, good night!” His flashlight sways with every step, illuminating the trail before he disappears behind his bedroom door, leaving you with no other option than to retreat into your own room. 

The door shuts behind you with a soft click, the rapid pattering of the rain against the window filling up the space and its no longer as therapeutic as it used to be now that you can feel the cold it brings with it.

Lighting up the candle on your nightstand, hoping the smell of gingerbread will convince your mind you’re not freezing, you settle into your bed. The feeling of your cold sheets against you has you whining, quickly pulling up the blankets at the end of the bed to warm you up as you ball into yourself. 

It's only a few minutes later that you hear the gentle knocking against your door, the top of your head just barely peeking up from the mountain of blankets as Jungkook peers inside your room. The words he wants to say leave him when he takes note of the way you're being swallowed whole by different patterns. 

“Holy shit, can you even breathe?”

“You wish you were this comfortable.” You laugh, tightening your grip on the blankets and pulling them snugly under your chin. 

He shuts the door behind him as he steps further into your room, smiling when he gets the whiff of your candle. “That's actually why I’m here, can I steal a blanket?”

The idea of parting with even one of your blankets sounds like a sin, a frown etched onto your face as you contemplate it. “If you think I’m gonna give you one of these after you refused to use the slippers I bought you, you’re crazy.”

“C’mon,” he whines, sitting on the edge of the bed and toppling over to bury his face against the warmth, fingers clutching on when you try to wiggle him off of your legs.

“No, if you take one you’re gonna fuck up the balance I have going on right now.”

“Fine,” he grunts, but just when you think he’ll give up he starts to crawl over you, long limbs making their way to the other side of the bed. You feel the cold instantly as he peels off the comforter from the right side, making himself right at home as he slides underneath it in search of warmth. “We’ll share then.”

With the way he shimmies around, finding the best position to get comfortable, you know there's no way you can shake him. He smiles into the sheets when you grumble out a fine and turn over, not trusting yourself to be able to stare at his face from a close proximity and do something you’d regret. 

A soft exhale leaves your lips as you force your eyes shut, ignoring the pounding in your chest as he inches closer so his legs don’t slip out from the blankets. You and Jungkook were roommates, and friends now underneath it all, but before you had crossed into friendship territory you realized you had a teeny tiny crush on him. 

When you had first moved in he had a girlfriend, a girl you rarely ever saw since he preferred to go to her place, so it helped tame down the crush. But once they broke up and he began spending all of his time at home, the small bursts of his personality you would see lit that crush back up. It was always hard to tell if the way he behaved around you was just the way he normally acted or if he maybe had a small interest in you as well. 

Forcing your mind from wandering deeper into fantasyland you nuzzle further into your pillow, pulling more of the blankets with you as you try to fall asleep. Jungkook feels the cold nip at his exposed ankle, huffing and flipping over to look at you with a small smile, the stolen blankets bundled around you nice and tight. 

“Steal the blanket again and I’ll put my cold feet on you.” Is the threat he makes as his fingers clutch onto the top layer of blanket and tug it back. It's a threat you don’t take lightly, gaze narrowing as you turn your head to glare at him. 

“You wouldn’t…”

His brows raise up at the challenge, jaw ticking out as he looks at you and before you can even react, he’s attacking, maneuvering himself around until he’s skillfully slipping his cold ass feet underneath the hem of your pants. You feel the cold instantly, a squeal of protest leaving you as you try to kick him away. 

“Who the fuck sleeps with no socks in this weather!”

“Me, which is why I need the blankets you thief!” He laughs out, continuing to try to yank the blankets back now that you were distracted, pulling the soft fabric out of your fists as you start to admit defeat. With a small cheer of success he pulls the warmth up and over the both of you like a little fort, his eyes crinkling up in a smile as he stares at you, now positioned right on top of you. 

Small pants escape your mouth as you slow your breathing, wide eyes blinking up at him as he refuses to move. The bed dips on either side of you as he holds himself up, lips still spread out in a smile, getting wider when he sees the way your eyes flicker down to them before looking back. 

You wanted to kiss him, he knew this, had known of your crush since the very beginning. Jungkook had taken note of the way you would stumble over words whenever you spot him leaving the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, enjoying the flustered look on your face, that being the main reason he did it so often. 

You thought you were slick, letting your eyes trace over the lines of muscle until it slipped behind the towel, but he simply let you get away with it, meeting your flustered gaze with that bunny smile you had grown to love. But as he hovers over you now there's no way he can pretend he doesn't notice the way your starry eyes stare at him, how you subtly lick your lips over. 

With a small tilt to his head he finally breaks the silence, whispering gently inside of the little cocoon he had made. “I really want to kiss you.” 

That gets him the reaction he wanted, the small gasp filling the air as your mouth drops open a tiny bit. “What?”

“Your lips look so soft, wanna kiss them.” His voice drops to a murmur, slow and husky as the words drawl out. 

He wants to kiss you, something you’ve been dreaming of for months, and now your mind is betraying you as it struggles to unscramble the words needed to respond. 

“Can I?” He asks, soft eyes looking directly at you and when you nod your head he tsks in disapproval, “Need to hear you say it love.”

The pet name makes you melt into your sheets, finally giving him a response as your brain releases your voice, “Y-yes, please kiss me.”  

Jungkook smiles in appreciation before slowly inching forward, nose gently nudging against yours as he swoops in. Your eyes flutter shut when the softness of his lips press against yours, kissing back instantly at the first touch, your mind whirling at the intoxicating feeling. Jungkook can feel his heartbeat quicken when you let out a small sigh, your shy hands gaining courage and sliding up his sides until you’re cupping his face. 

He winces at the icy feel of your fingers on his cheeks, the soft breaths of his laughter making you smile in between kisses, teeth knocking together as it begins to turn messy, the two of you just wanting more of each other now that the line has finally been crossed. 

Jungkook lets you bring him in closer, balancing on his elbows as he slots himself between your thighs, the soft smacks of your lips blending in with the light crackle of the candle and the rain from outside. 

A gentle nip of your teeth on his bottom lip earns you the first groan, the second coming when you trace your tongue along the seam of his mouth, slowly licking your way inside until it’s gently tangled against his own. Jungkook can feel his heart thrumming in his ears now, the realization that he was finally kissing you making his entire body warm up. 

The way you had behaved with him, calling him bro, punching his shoulder whenever he told jokes in an act to force yourself from ruining the friendship, made him believe that this would never happen. He didn’t want to come across as the typical cocky boy who swore he could win everyone over but the way you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers moving to grasp around his neck to bring him even closer when he unconsciously rolls his hips into yours makes him feel like he just did. 

Your wishful thinking had been true, the sweet gestures he did in day to day life stemming from the small inkling of a crush, something that had been planted the minute he started spending more time at home and around you. At first he thought nothing of it, chalking it up to enjoying spending time with his new friend, but soon enough he discovered he preferred to stay in with you, join you on your random quests to hunt for a new place to eat at, ignoring any other girl who showed any interest in him. 

As the two of you continue to kiss inside the small makeshift fort, the air becomes stuffy, Jungkook pulling away with a small laugh. “Wait, can’t breathe.”

You let go of his neck and paw the blankets off your faces, the cool air of your bedroom finally being welcomed as you catch your breath. 

“Better?” you question, smiling when he nods at you. “Good, now kiss me again.”

He doesn’t need you to tell him twice, lips cutting off the end of your sentence urgently, feeling the way you smile against him, your leg hooking over his hips like second nature. Jungkook feels like his head is spinning, the way your fingers move to rake along his hair, the soft gasps and sighs passed between you, he feels like a goner, the tipping point being your hips rutting up into his. 

Both of you pause at the sensation, Jungkook moaning into your mouth as your clothed core grinds along the slowly growing erection pressed against you. “Y/N, don’t tease me.”

“Why?” you breathe out, pressing kisses along the side of his mouth and jaw as you repeat the motion, the usual fear of him not feeling the same long gone from your mind. 

He drops himself further until his face is buried in your neck, goosebumps flaring out as his breath hits your skin when he speaks. “I’m trying to be sweet.” he murmurs, kissing your neck softly. 

“You are being sweet,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his hip, smiling when he groans while you once again rut up into him. “Am I not being sweet? Just wanna make you feel good, Kook.”

Of course you were sweet, you always have been, it was the main reason his heart started to skip around you, why he clung onto your mug like a safety net, wanting to keep a small part of you with him. If you wanted to make him feel good he was in no position to refuse, wanting to reciprocate the sweet gesture instead. 

Jungkook lifts his head up, dark waves falling over his face as he stares at you, wanting to see the look on your face as he gives the first roll of his hips into yours. He sees the way your teeth bite down onto your lower lip, pillowing the soft flesh out, mouth opening up to let out a gasp as he repeats the motion. There's never been a time where he’s been more thankful for a power outage than right now. 

“Keep going,” you urge him on, sighing beautifully when he rocks against you again, hips nudging the leg hooked around his waist higher up with each slowly thrust. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He sighs, taking a moment to fully admire you laid out underneath him, eyes sparkling as you stare up at him, mouth slightly parted as you groan at the small tingles of pleasure starting up inside of you. 

“Wanna feel you.” The confession hangs in the air for a second, the trailing of your hand down his covered chest, fingertips tickling along the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of his sweats, is what finally brings him back. His moment of admiration being broken as your hands slips past and gently grasps his hardened cock, the expected feeling of his underwear nowhere to be found because not only did Jungkook refuse to wear socks he also refused to wear underwear. 

Your eyes widen at his size, already a nice handful and slowly growing the longer you hold it in your palm. As you give him a small pump you feel the exhaled grunt he lets out fan across your skin, his eyes falling shut as he pants out your name. 

Jungkook gasps as your palm rolls over the head of his cock, thumb rubbing along his slit and dragging the beads of precum down his length. With a shaky hand he trails down your chest, slipping past your pants and underwear. A pleased hum escapes him as he feels how wet you are, fingers sliding along your folds, collecting your arousal before coming back up to circle around your clit. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips jutting up at the tiny jolts of pleasure that spark each time his fingers circle around your bundle of nerves. This was definitely not how you thought your night would play out, still partially thinking you’re dreaming with your roommate asleep beside you but each time you blink the visual of his face inches from yours only gets clearer. 

“How's this?” he whispers, eyebrow cocked up as he waits for a response, the tantalizing motion of his hands making your mind scramble once more, back arching up towards him as he applies a bit more pressure. Jungkook knows what he’s doing, the way his fingers find the right rhythm to leave you whimpering only to slow down right after, just because he likes the frustrated look etched onto your face. 

A pout forms on your lips, your hands tightening their hold on his cock as you give him the same treatment, and as you slowly glide your palm down and back up, fingers refusing to go near his tip he groans in vexation. 

“You’re not being nice.” Is what you manage to gasp out just before he picks up his pace once more, lips coming back down to yours in a hungry kiss, swallowing each moan as you let them out. Each pant through his nose is felt against your cheek as your own hands pick up the pace, the two of you working in tandem as the desperation starts to grow within you. 

Jungkook wishes he could see you fully, not cocooned under a mountain of blankets, and for a split second he wants to suggest pulling them off entirely but the way the cold nips at your faces kills that idea on the spot. This would just have to do until the power came back. 

“Ah shit,” he keens out in between sloppy kisses as your hands trail further down to fondle his balls, the beginning feelings of his climax creeping up embarrassingly fast. He couldn’t help himself, for months now he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you so this whole situation put his mind into overdrive. 

You were on the same boat, the warm sensation spreading throughout you as his fingers continue to pinch and roll around your aching clit. “Wait, fuck I’m close,” you whimper out, chest rising and falling rapidly as you pull away from his mouth, a small string of spit connecting you together. 

“Really?”

“Shut up don’t make fun of me,” you protest, gasping when he starts to kiss and suck along your neck. 

“I’m not,” he mumbles, his hips rutting into your palm, fingers fisting the sheets beside you. “I’m close too.”

The whiny tone to his voice has more wetness gushing out, further ruining your underwear and Jungkook feels it as he fingers glide against your skin. That's enough to spur him on, quickening his pace with just the right pressure until your limbs are tightening up, back arching as your free hand clutches Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, and he has no intentions to, smiling against your neck as your hand stutters along his length as the pleasure you feel coursing through you. Each roll of his fingers has you seeing stars in your dimly lit room, whines getting breathier each time until you’re finally coming undone with a cry of his name. 

Jungkook feels the mess you make against his fingers, gently biting your skin as he starts to rut into your palm, the small twitches your body makes as he continues to tease your sensitive nub only making his need to cum grow. 

“Y/N,” he mewls, pulling his hand out of your pants once you hum at your name, your palm trailing up his shoulder and into his hair to gently run through it. “Wanna cum.”

You bite your lips at his words, pulling your own hand out of his pants and he cries out at the loss of contact, face lifting up from your neck and the prettiest pout on his lips that you kiss away. “Cum, use me Jungkook.”

He eyes you for a moment, a subtle nod of confirmation being all he needs to slide down his sweats a bit until his cock slips out, a small sigh filling the air at being released from its confines. He licks his lips over as he grasps his cock, resting it along your core and sighing at the smooth feeling of your pants, the silk slightly cold against him, the small wet patch along it only making him shut his eyes. 

When you widen your thighs for him to slot more easily he starts to rut forward, leaning back over you with his palms beside your face once more. Jungkook pants at the sensation, the gliding of his cock against your covered pussy, the small whines you let out each time he nudges against your clit, it kickstarts his climax once more. 

“Feels good,” he grunts out, head bowing forward and pressing against your chest as he picks up the pace, hips knocking into you each time, beads of precum dampening your silk pajama set and mixing with your own arousal. 

Jungkook doesn’t care how needy he looks right now, humping you like a desperate teenager because that’s exactly how he feels. 

“Yeah, are you gonna cum for me Kook?” you whisper, caressing his hair until he’s looking at you once more, face screwed up as he teeters close to the edge. 

When he nods eagerly you hook both legs around his waist, his mouth dropping open as he moans out unabashedly. “W-wanna feel you fully next time,” he grunts, jostling your body from the force of his thrusts, your pants wrinkling up around your thighs. 

“You will,” you confirm, wanting nothing more than to actually feel his cock without the confines of clothes and blankets. “Once the power comes back.”

He chuckles at that for a second, smiling at you through the dull glow the candle provides but then his face twists up, brows pinching and jaw going slack as his hips grow sloppy. 

“F-fuck,” he drawls out as his orgasm washes over him, hips rutting against yours with less grace than before, spurts of his warm cum splashing along your pussy and onto the small patch of skin above your waistband as he works himself through it. You sigh at the feeling, cupping his cheeks as your thumbs soothe him down. 

Jungkook continues to rock against you until he’s whimpering in overstimulation, panting as he stares down at you with the dopiest smile. He turns his head to kiss at your hand by his cheek before bending down to press his lips against your in a gentle kiss. 

“Did we just get to third base?” he whispers against your lips after the two of you fully come down, laughing when you swat at his side playfully, your own laugh filling the air as he pulls back to stare at you once more. 

Suddenly your room fills with light, the two of you squinting at the brightness, the sound of the heater kicking back is followed by the warmth from the vents beginning to flow through. 

You don’t even have to look at him to know what face he’s making, your promise of letting him fully feel you once the power came back flooding his mind. “No Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his face away from yours as he inches closer like a child. 

“Why not?”

“Because you ruined my favorite pajamas.”

He laughs freely now, kneeling up until the blankets slide off his body, his eyes staring down at your pants and analyzing the mess the two of you made. “I mean, you ruined them first.”

Okay he has a point, but instead of agreeing you simply raise your foot up and nudge it against his chest until he topples to the side, allowing you to stand up from bed with no fear of the cold attacking you. Jungkook smiles against your sheets as he watches you grab new pants and underwear before slipping into your bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a pair of snowman printed pants instead. 

“You wanna go finish Legally Blonde?” he asks, head perched up by his hand as he lays on his side, that charming smile on his face. 

“It’s like two in the morning.”

He shrugs, not caring about the time at all, just wanting to spend more time with you, already knowing the two of you would most likely end the night having a discussion about more than obvious feelings after what just happened. 

After staring at him for another moment you smile too, reaching your bed for the same trusty blanket you hand earlier and wrapping it around your body. But as he stands up from your bed you extend your covered up out for him to join you, a smile of success gracing his face. 

“Wow, you’re actually sharing with me.” he coos, leading the two of you back out into the living room. 

“Watch it, I’ll take it back.”

Jungkook simply wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side before you sit onto the couch. “I know you will you cozy thief.”

[its-deputy-caleb]

Reaction from the lords (and miranda if you want) when they found out ​that s/o has the power of fire. but not a normal one but the hoarse blue on

Ahh this was super cute to write, firstly i’m sorry that i didn’t do miranda i have just been having a really rough patch and her character is hard to write for me personally so i apologise but i love these requests with a s/o that has some kind of powers! i hope everyone can enjoy <3

Alcina Dimitrescu

When Alcina discovered you have the gift of fire, she was not amused to find you burnt her fine quality curtains. Not that any of it was your fault, really you just waved your hand at Bela at the other end of the hall and the window went up in flames.

Once you got a hang of your powers though, it became a delight around the castle. The oil lamps in rooms were replaced by a warm blue glow which matched beautifully with the golden inlay of the walls.

One thing that you’d noticed about Alcina that being somewhat of a vampire, her skin was always very cold no matter how warm the room was and so you often found yourself with your hands on her face. She always leaned into your touch as your thumbs brushed her cheeks.

You let warmth leave your palm, a soft heat radiating from them as you gently held her face. Alcina loved your power because in a cheesy and cliche kind of way, you made her heart melt. She’d never been one for romantics but you had a certain affect on her.

You didn’t always use your powers to redecorate the Castle however, there were certainly times when it came in handy to protect you and your family. Many times you’d flame down the creatures that lingered in the cellars if they got too close to Alcina’s daughters and you never hesitated to leave a ring of fire around the Castle to fend off any unwanted guests.

They were your family after all, and you’d do everything in your power to protect the ones you love.

Donna Beneviento

Donna is so captured by your powers and your heart always skips a beat when she asks you to show her, watching as the blue flame is reflected in her beautiful doe eyes. Her face lights always lights up in the brightest smile.

An afternoon favourite of yours is to sit on the couch with Donna wrapped in your arms, her head resting on your chest as your fingers run gently through her hair. Often at times Donna will fall asleep (which you’ll never admit is the cutest thing seeing her sleep) but the house is always freezing so high in the mountains.

With a flick of your wrist, the fireplace springs to life and a soft blue colour fills the room. Naturally you could’ve used a blanket but you didn’t want to move and wake her and you also took every opportunity to use your powers.

You and Donna love to play hide and seek with Angie around the Estate, but the mischievous Angie insists that the lights get turned off as you search for her. With one hand in Donna’s, the other rests open palmed in front of you, acting as a lantern while you run down dark corridors. That and it also acted as a heat source in some of the more questionable and damp rooms.

Early mornings are often spent outside on the porch to watch the sunrise bounce off the waterfall, it was quite a spectacular view. One morning Donna had a mug of tea in her hand, long gone cold since it snowed almost all year round.

You bring your hands to the mug and warm it with your palms, making sure Donna can keep her own hands warm. Soon the tea is steaming again and she takes a tentative sip, humming in delight at the sweet taste. She tucks her head under yours as you bring her in close before returning your gaze to the waterfall.

Salvatore Moreau

At first Salvatore was almost afraid of your power, seeing that he was much more comfortable in an aquatic environment but he slowly learnt that you’d never hurt him with your power.

You loved taking trips around the reservoir together, camping out under the stars as you roast all sorts of sweets that you bought from the Duke. You’d both share marshmallows and chocolates and other goodies as you learnt Sal had a sweet tooth to counteract his love of savoury cheeses.

On really cold mornings, you both wake up early to go and find the freshly fallen snow. You use your fire power to melt it, leaving large puddles of water that he could swim in. One thing you noticed was the way your heart fluttered when he smiled at the water you could create.

Salvatore learnt that he was particularly fond of warm water and so the two of you found a sanctuary up above the reservoir that held a deep pool of water.

You knelt down and placed your palm on the rocks and let them heat slowly, a warm steam entering the atmosphere. The water was by no means hot but just warm enough to be enjoyable in these harsh winters. Sal absolutely loved the spring you made and although you tended to avoid water for obvious reasons, you let your legs dangle in the warm water while he either swarm around or had his head rested on your knee.

Karl Heisenberg

The minute Karl sees fire leave your palm his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas. He couldn’t be more excited to have someone like him, and it brought you two closer together.

Having the power of fire meant that you jumped straight in to helping around the factory with him. The two of you would weld metal together for hours. First you’d melt it all down and then he’d weld it all back to form magnificent weapons of which you’d both plan to use on Miranda.

Sometimes if he needed to weld two pieces together you’d simply point your index finger with a small searing hot blue flame while he held them together. You never missed the way he smiled at the end of it like he was the luckiest man alive.

You both loved going out and causing mischief all over the village. The two of you would spend hours searching through caves and hidden undiscovered pockets that had all the monsters that you could wreak havoc on. You’d often dare each other on how many lycans and Samcă you could kill. Naturally a Vârcolac was worth extra points and the winner got a weeks worth of bragging rights and a reward from the Duke all paid for by the loser.

Your gift was extremely powerful and Karl admired you for that immensely, knowing that you’re just as powerful as him, if not more. Not only that but he’s never felt loved than when you promised that you’d be by his side when he took Miranda down and that you’d protect him during the battle.

[florencwrites]

ignoring is bliss 〚technoblade〛

in which [reader] struggles with her lover's inconsequent affection, and a good talk is unfortunately inevitable; the silent treatment has never worked well with techno.

"I don't know what you want me to say." His back had still been turned towards me at this point, the rake heavy in my hands as I tried using it to steady myself in the muddy stable. He kept loading dirty plucks of hay onto his pitchfork, the thinly lined buttoned shirt he was wearing easily letting his back muscles shine through.

I stood silently behind him, deliberating my words thoroughly. I hated when he acted like this, I absolutely despised him. He was one of the smartest men I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, however, the second things went sideways conversation-wise he always played it painfully personally. He would start correcting my grammar or suggest synonyms for otherwise satisfactory sentences. "I don't either."

"I guess that marks the end of this conversation." He turned around to dump his gathered muck in the makeshift wheelbarrow Phil had built us. His face was hard, his brows furrowed and his features lax. He seemed indifferent, his attitude scaring me to pieces.

"Tech, please." I tried, putting one of my hands up to gesture for him to stop walking. He was now barely lifting the barrow from the ground, ready to head off to the dump. He huffed, his eyes meeting the floor as he put the wagon down. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"I'm sorry," I muttered softly.

He ducked to grip his hands around the handles again, lifting it from the ground. His knuckles were white where they held onto the leather-covered grips. "Speak up."

"I want to have a conversation with you, okay? Stop acting so fucking stuck up and talk to me." His shoulder brushed past mine as he exited the stables, my voice was high in emotions, definitely on the verge of breaking with desperation.

He snorted. "I'll listen to whatever you have to say when you've calmed down."

-

"He won't talk to me, Phil." I groaned almost obnoxiously loud, taking a sip of water to wash down both my dinner and my agitation. "You know how he gets."

"All pissy? Tell me about it." He chuckled softly, his forearm shielding his bowl from my sight. He shoveled another spoonful of beef stew into his mouth. Phil and I had never been extraordinarily close, he reckoned Techno and me to be undeserving of each other. A terrible pair. And perhaps we were, at times like this I couldn't help but doubt whether or not we truly were the destined lovers we often thought ourselves to be. "I'll bring him some food later."

I laughed at him, a father at heart. A father to anyone but his actual sons, really. A playful grin on my lips, "You're an enabler, Phil."

-

That night I crawled into an empty bed. One I hadn't even doubted would be just that; empty. He was weak like that, he'd do anything to avoid conflict. Whether that was because he was afraid of what his blinding rage fits would conjure, or whether he was just an impotent coward. Someone who didn't know how to act around uncertainty and immorality and thus resorted to blaming everything on his treacherous temper.

The sheets still smelled of him, I held them to my nose.

There was no reason for us to fight, I hadn't meant to start one. I simply wanted him to realize how different he acted towards me when surrounded by any crowd. He acted so distant it made me doubt not only us, but myself. My heart ached anytime he pulled his hand away from where I tried leaving him a subtle touch. My skin crawled when he no longer referred to me by the mild, but unmissably warm names he had for me.

However, nothing would ever hurt me as much as meeting his eyes in a room of our friends and seeing the love seep from his irises. Physically witnessing his affection turn into nothing short of mere acquaintance.

Everyone knew us. There was no reason for him to act so cold, so distant. Though, I also recognized that perhaps there was an underlying reason. One I simply hadn't thought of, or perhaps one that I couldn't ever imagine. One that he had retained from his troublesome past.

The thing is, it hurt me to think he didn't trust me enough with his reasoning. That he didn't want to tell me about his thoughts. I'd been extremely careful and meticulous with any information he'd granted me, I was sure to never let what he told me change my opinion of him. I vowed to never look at him any different.

So, why could he not promise me the same?

-

There was no point in pushing myself from my sheets the next morning. I knew how long his episodes usually lasted, I wouldn't even have to try talking to him for at least two more days. Normally, I'd try, though. I'd sit in the grass right next to where he was working outside, just talking to him about anything and everything I could think of. Back then I thought for his silence to mean confusion, I thought his swirling mind simply needed a break. That a distraction would do him good.

I sat in the barely-molten grass for hours, never getting a reply.

His smell was constricting my airways slowly, every inhale making it harder and harder to breathe. What if Phil was right, what if he truly didn't love me, or not anymore at least? What if it was all an act to have a warm body to fall asleep next to, to have an extra set of hands around the cottage.

I kicked at the sheets, desperate to get them away from me, to get them from clinging to my sweaty body. I only tangled my legs further into the mess. The bed creaked loudly against the wooden floor of the attic, a gust of wind running through a small gap in the roof.

I shot up, finally being able to rid my body of the sheets. I huffed a few times, the annoyance getting the better of me. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, now just sitting on the wooden frame, letting my eyes wander over the walls. The pictures of us that were tightly tacked to the planks, photos of our favorite pets and our best of friends. Photos of us with Phil and Tommy, and even a stray photo of me and Wilbur, back when we were kids.

My gaze found its way towards the singular window behind our bed, the only one of two walls that weren't entirely slanted. His red robe stood out like a sore thumb in the feeble blanket of slushy snow that had been slowly accumulating over the course of the night. Summer was officially over once again, and the cold would soon make it so we could no longer afford to sleep alone.

He rarely wore his robe outside of special occasions, he usually would simply opt for one of his brown ones. One was trimmed with a thick deer fur, the leather on it sure to keep all frost out. The other one was his summer one, the more dirty one of the two. It was always stained with blood, since it would also be the one he went hunting with. He disliked hunting in the winter, the harsh winds and easily discernible prints made it no fun, according to him. He stacked up during the summer, drying his meats to allow them to be kept safe for months, if not years.

But now he was wearing his red robe, lined with the finest of polar bear fur. The one that had the special compartments for his potions, and the one I had sown a totem into. For good luck. He rarely wore it for any occasion but war.

He pushed himself from the ground, turning around swiftly; the velocity making his cape whisk dramatically up in the wind. His eyes seemed fixated on the ground until they unwarrantedly shot up to the window I was sitting at. Any other day, I would've averted my gaze. Not now. He knew I was staring, and he was allowed to know so. I held my eyes on him until his feet carried him out of sight, into the house. I sighed softly, I felt entirely forlorn without him, without his caring hands and loving eyes. I let myself fall back into the bed, cuddling the sheets once again as I curled away from the entrance. I reckoned he would have to change out of his robe soon, and I didn't want to face him when he did.

-

I heard the front door slam, and as predicted the rungs of the many ladders soon creaked in his hold. The worn, practically ancient, trapdoor was pushed ajar behind me. I couldn't be bothered to turn to meet his eyes. However, instead of quietly changing out of his clothes, I felt the bed dip. He sat on the side of it, much alike to how I had found myself just minutes before.

"I don't like feeling weak." His voice was rougher than usual, it kept its usual monotone aura, but for some reason, it felt more emotional than ever before. He cleared his throat as if to try and mask it, to no avail, "I don't love you any less."

I shifted in the bed, though, he quickly stopped me, "Don't look at me, that just makes it harder."

I obliged. He let out a trembling sigh, taking his sweet time to deliberate his next words, "Sometimes we are outside together and I'm afraid that when they see how much I care about you, they will realize that you make me weak." I stared at the wall, still curled into the blankets. I wanted nothing more than to hold his face, look at him as he spoke. Instead, I had to make do with the pictures of his face plastered on the wood. His pointy, flappy ears and peaked nose. The two sharp-looking fangs set in the corners of his lips, ones that seemed to disappear when he smiled. He didn't like smiling for pictures, I didn't have a single one of the two of us together where he smiled. The only ones that showed his beautiful pearly whites were the ones that had me behind the camera, something I only then realized might've not been a coincidence.

"It scares me to think they could hurt you for loving me, that's why I don't like holding your hand in town." I shot a quick look over my shoulder, his back was slouched over, his head in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. He wasn't crying, he simply seemed lost."I never realized that what scares me even more is the idea of you not loving me at all."

I slowly crept from under the sheets as his words fell silent. I crawled over towards where he was sat, near the foot-end of the bed. I took one of his hands from where he had rested his face on it and pulled it out of the way.

I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling my body into his. I draped my legs over his lap as I held him. His built arms felt tender against my exposed back, however, he held me tight. He squeezed softly as another quivering breath escaped his lips. We sat in embrace for a while.

"That's all I asked for, Tech." I smiled into his neck. "I just wanted to talk, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"Shut up." He playfully tried pushing me away from his torso, underestimating the power of my cling. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

[yeojaa]

come over, pt. i

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  this is pwp.  smut in the forms of:  kissing, oral (m/f), fingering, deepthroating, hickeys, protected sex.  use of the pet name shy girl.  wc. 6.2k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif and @snackhobi aka the loves of my tiny life.  author note.  this is an adaption of an rp with my beloved @velvetwicebang​.  while the writing is all my own, i owe so much to loma for inspiring me and being such a wonderful partner. 💛 if you enjoy this, feedback goes a long way.  tysm for reading!  (and yes, there will be a second part.)

You’ve been friends for thirteen months, classmates for another three before that.  You’ve worked on countless projects together, watched him fall off a roof, and have had to bail him out of campus security’s grubby little hands. Your friendship is easy, based on mutual suffering in Professor Kim’s class and long study dates spent in the library.  He smuggled you chocolates in his pockets and you brought iced coffee to the 8 a.m. lecture you shared.

You’re not sure why you’re riddled with uncertainty now then, every nerve ending shot, lit up bright like the still-up mini Christmas tree sitting in the corner of your dorm room.  (You know you should take it down but it’s so cute, slouched ever with a tiny gold star-shaped bell hanging from the end.).  

Spending time with Jungkook was normal - a part of your weekly routine - but then again, you hadn’t somehow developed a weird little crush on him until recently.  

(If you think hard, you could probably pinpoint it to a night a few weeks ago when he looked particularly good, fluffy powder puff of hair stripped of shadow and gleaming gold beneath the warm lecture lights.  You’d never had a thing for blonds but he made it look good - surprising you when he’d dropped into his seat beside you and winked in response to your surprise.) 

(It’s something you can't tear your thoughts from now, that infuriatingly charming smile burnt into your retinas.  It sits at the forefront of your mind, stealing your attention from the movie that's playing on the television hung across from your bed.  One of those blockbuster flicks, because who didn’t love gratuitous action and lens flares?)

A hand reaches for the chip bowl propped between you - homemade chex mix, because you’ve been obsessed with the recipe since discovering it a few weeks ago - and you flinch away when it brushes the hand that's already in there.

"Sorry!"  You squeak before coughing, a quick-witted (but not altogether believable) attempt at hiding the sudden heat that flares across your cheeks.  The same hand disappears between your knees, fingers curling into the soft throw laid over your legs.  You tell yourself to relax at least three times before speaking, peeking at your companion from beneath a fringe of sleep-tousled strands.  “Stop stealing all my chips.” 

The boy beside you only grins, tosses that lazy smile in your direction before turning his attention back to the explosion on the screen, entire expression lit up by the fireworks that explode in flashes of colour.

You think you’ve gotten away with it - that he hasn’t noticed - and then he’s speaking again, pointedly staring forward, seemingly unbothered.  (You know better though.  Jungkook’s infuriating like that, picking up on all the little things despite the fact that he’s a dumb boy, too good at reading between the lines when he barely studies.)

“You’re blushing.”

The callout is, well, uncalled for. 

You choose to ignore him at first, opting to shove two chocolates past your lips.  They’re unbearably sweet, minty and cold - your favourite - and the richness spills across your tongue, eliciting a soft hum as your teeth buzz from the sugar.  (Note to self:  thank Jungkook for the chocolate later.)

“You’re blushing,”  you retort once you’ve swallowed, cheeks puffed out and a dent gathering between your brows.  “I’m just—“  Hand waves wildly - nearly hits him in the face with how wobbly it is - and you pretend-glare at him, faux affront laid in spades.  “—hot.”

It comes snappier than you mean it to, spoken in something close to a pout.  You aren’t actually.  The campus is notorious for having garbage heating, floorboards more akin to packed snow in the dead of winter.  It’s just annoying.  You refuse to be another one of those girls.

(Not that there’s anything wrong with said girls.  It’s more an issue with Jungkook, stupidly handsome and charming and far too popular for his own good.  People already told you all about Jungkook’s escapades - even though you often heard them from him firsthand and in gruelling detail.  One of the downsides to being friends with someone who, for all intents and purposes, carried the title of campus heartthrob.) 

“Pay attention to the movie.”  The same hand reaches for the mix again, careful to avoid brushing his this time.  You think you’ve succeeded, snatching up a piece of pretzel, morsel halfway to your mouth when it drops to your lap.

The same lap that suddenly has a hand on it, palm warm over your knee.  

If you’d thought your nerve endings were shot, now you knew they were.  Every inch of skin was on fire - heat shooting up your spine and over your neck the moment his hand comes in contact with bare skin.  Damn your need for comfort, damn your choice to wear shorts, damn his freaking hot tattooed hands—

You almost yell at him.  The sound’s on the tip of your tongue when you bite down, stare trained wholly on the movie and the blood that splatters across the screen..

Really, you shouldn't be surprised.  You’ve known Jungkook for nearly two years - okay, not quite.  You’ve heard all the rumours about him, the whispered words that sound something like playboy and flirt and be careful.  You know and yet you’ve found yourself in this situation, desperately trying to figure out what the hell is going through his mind as you stare straight ahead, refusing to move a muscle.  

His profile is picture perfect from your periphery;  he's focused too, acting like he's done nothing wrong.  Sly as a fox, as always.

“Still blushing,”  he repeats conversationally, as if he’s commenting on the colour of the sky or how cold it is in your room.  Not as if he’s got a hand where it shouldn’t be, ink spilling over his skin in pretty patterns, burning the shape of it where he touches.

"I didn't blush.”  It’s a retort made for only argument’s sake and even then, without weight.  Feather soft and feeble in an attempt to keep your voice level.  It's hard when you’re burning up, a livewire settled where you feel him.  "I'm not blushing."

It's a lie - you can feel the flush, embarrassment flooding from your cheeks all the way down over your chest.  It’s an inferno beneath your skin, lava coursing through your veins.  

It spreads further and further, blooms somewhere new when his hand drifts lower, tracking across the soft inner of your thigh.  Doesn’t cease even when his hand does, palm firm over your leg, the ghost of a touch passing so close to your core you can’t help but jolt.  It’s as if he’s rearranged your pieces, mixed them all up.  A brush of his finger over your clothed entrance feels like it hits you right in the chest, snaps your heart to attention.  It roars to life, thundering madly, pulse erratic when he repeats the gesture, with that much more pressure.

You’re dripping, you realise to your horror, cotton of your thong sticking to your skin, grey of your shorts made darker by the arousal that spills over the one not-so-innocent digit. 

A part of you wants to run from the room.  Nearly do, heart hammering in your chest when Jungkook's face is suddenly too close, the warmth of his breath stifling against your neck.  It feels good, anticipation and desire fizzing in your stomach like fountain pop.  (The movie theatre kind, that’s somehow flat and too bubbly all at once.)

"Kook."  You mean to say it reproachfully, with a hand pushing his wrist away.  Instead it comes out like a whisper, a soft sigh of his name that sounds almost needy, laced with worry and anticipation that makes you want to tear your own hair out.  Fingers remain locked around bone, other hand digging into the blanket and the linen beneath it, searching desperately for some form of composure beneath the material.  

For the first time, you hazard a glance - know it’ll be bad for your own well-being - dropping your stare to where his hand rests.  (You have to admit - you like the sight of those tattoos, a stark contrast to the unblemished softness.)

Like it almost as much as his kisses, the first of which lands exactly where you want it most.  Delicate, polite, right on the junction of your jaw.  A sigh escapes before you can help it.  "Shy girl,”  he coos, teasing in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m not shy,”  you huff - try to, anyway, around the kaleidoscope of butterflies that are threatening to choke you.  "We're watching a movie."  You’re trying to redirect his attention, even as you’re desperate for it, even as you think you’d give your whole heart for it. 

You’re this close to combusting, eyes widening the moment he extracts his hand and tucks it back into the bowl of chips.  A part of you wants to yell at him - for starting this in the first place but mainly for leaving you high and dry, turned on and soaking through your underwear. 

(It’s not fair, but then again, you’d never expected them to be.  You’ve seen the rules Jungkook plays by - namely those of his own creation.  Term paper due the next morning?  He’d somehow pull it out of his ass that night.  Break something at a house party?  He’d be let off with a smile and a wave, those doe eyes of his utterly lethal when paired with his pout.)

“Watch the movie then.”  He sounds almost bored, utterly unbothered as he seamlessly slips back into the proper role of friend, classmate, study partner.

"Let's."  Without tossing another glance in his direction, you stare straight ahead, own hand delving for snacks.  So what if you very purposely brush your fingers against the pieces he's just touched, popping the pieces into your mouth before slotting your thumb against your tongue, cheeks hollowing around to suck the last bits of salt and butter off.

Despite your nerves - you’re hoping he's watching - you readjust, bringing knees up, crossing legs until one is resting atop his own thick thigh.  The full of your bottom lip disappears between your teeth, worried to within an inch of its life as you shift beside him, seemingly manoeuvring your shorts into their rightful position.

(You’re not.  They’re hitched higher than they were, barely worthy of the title of shorts, more akin to a belt.  So revealing it’s almost uncomfortable, wet of your arousal sticking them to your skin.)

(Two could play this game.)

(Maybe him better than you, but still.)

You know what you’re doing and yet you’re somehow surprised when he’s suddenly disappeared from your side and situated himself in front of you, eating up too much of the space on your small double bed.  “What’re you—“  The question disappears in the same moment he does, unable to track his movements when Jungkook slips forward, pressing his mouth over yours.

You’ve kissed a lot of people.  (Okay, not a lot, but enough.)  You were a senior in college, where kissing was like talking and fucking happened more often than dating.

You’ve never kissed Jungkook before.  

Why hadn’t you?

His lips are terribly soft, pink and pouted, slanting across yours as if he’s trying to devour you.  There’s no semblance of delicacy, nothing gentle and sweet like those brushes against your neck.  They’re forceful, demanding payment in full when his tongue glides over the seam, seeking entrance despite the fact that you think he might’ve slipped in anyway.

There’s not a single wall he couldn’t break down, not a lock he couldn’t pick.  Not with how he moves, purposeful and reassured, tongue sliding over yours, sucking it into his mouth as if it’s something he does every day.  (Which it very well could be - just not with you.)

“Shy girl,”  he repeats with a mouth filled with affection, praise that pours over you honey sweet and sticky.  “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The thing is, you’re not pretending.  You’re half-afraid this entire moment is going to explode into a thousand pieces, a dream shattered by reality.  You hope it doesn’t.  Couldn’t bear it when he feels so nice, hand spanning your waist, tucked beneath the safety of your shirt and the fleece blanket between you.  

“I’m not.”  

“Oh?”  There’s something in his eyes, something that coils heat in the pit of your stomach.  You swear you can see the devil sitting on his shoulder, gleeful little smile rearranging his features.  “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

Did he?  Of course he did.  Had, even before you’d known him.

(You’d grown comfortable, though.  Found a way to separate the popular heartthrob from your friend.)

But you’ve lost your marbles, gone certifiably insane when you make a noise that sounds nothing like you.  Because you’re once again far too interested in the way Jungkook’s touching you, manhandling you as if you’re some sort of puppet.  It really shouldn’t turn you on so much, slick coating your bare thighs when he guides you onto your back, pushes you back against your too many pillows.

He’s your friend and he’s told you all about the way he fucks girls until they can’t walk.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want the same treatment, though. 

The moment Jungkook’s mouth finds your skin - sensitive and soft and so close to your soaked core - you keen, hands immediately flying into his silky head of hair.  It threads between your fingers like fine silk, filaments of gold overlaid in colour by the movie that still plays.  

“Oh my god,”  you gasp, entire body arching off the back of the bed in an effort to bring some form of  relief.  You can’t help the heat that burns your cheeks or how you sound, begging and pleading as you tug gently at his blond roots.  “Don’t tease me.”

You’re not asking very nicely but you figure Jungkook will give in.  It’s his fault, after all.  

His fault - which you don’t mind when he hooks fabric aside and drags his tongue across your slit, the flat of his tongue arching your back from the bed.  Can’t mind when he does it again, rounded nose bumping against your clit.  You’re trying to stay just a little bit decent, moans soft and caught between your teeth.  You’re practically biting a hole through your lip in an effort to stay quiet, hands curled into fists.  Gold spills between them and you imagine it hurts but he doesn’t stop, only works harder to drive you crazy.

Of course he’s good at this.  Too good, if you’re being honest.

You’re dripping, legs trembling in his firm, unyielding grip.  There's molten heat building in your stomach, creeping up your spine, and with each pass of his tongue over your sensitive core, it only expands.  You want more - need it - and almost beg when he catches your clit between his teeth.  A breathy baby spills out on accident when your eyes meet, gaze half-lidded.

It’s bad for your health, how good he looks right now, chin slick, lips rubied and pretty like jewels.  “Shy girl sounds so pretty.”

There's something about his praise that completely ruins you, the words dragging a delighted, sexpot moan off your tongue.  You want him to tell you how pretty you are now and later, over and over.  

You want to be his pretty girl. 

"I want you.  I need more,"  you whine, hips rutting desperately, slick messy across your thighs and shining across Jungkook's mouth.  He smiles then - brighter than the sun, utterly radiant, so devastatingly handsome you swear your brain short circuits - and then he’s doing exactly as you’ve asked. 

He eats you out like it’s an art form, flicking his tongue over your clit with practiced precision, sucking the pearl between his lips.  When he grazes his teeth over it - just the lightest pressure - you jolt, the feeling of a finger sliding into you stealing the breath from your lungs.

He’s always had nice hands, big broad palms and long fingers.  They reach places you could never hope to, stretching you deliciously when he sinks another in alongside the first, exploring you with ease.  The sting is slight, the fullness overriding any pain, further dulled by the suction of his mouth on your clit.  

He even hums when he finds the spot he’s been looking for, hooking his fingers against it and pressing.  (You swear you see stars;  you know you feel him smile, lips spread like butter over your skin when you sob.)

You can’t help yourself, writhing and moaning, trying to ride his face with a desperation that has your chest heaving.  It feels so good to have him between your legs.  You almost miss the appearance of his other hand - in view for but a moment before it disappears past the waistband of his sweats.  Dark as they are, pitch black like most of his clothing, it’s impossible to miss the way he touches himself.  It has you even needier, pussy clenching at the thought of him fisting his own hard cock.

“Do you want a hand?”  You ask as if you’re doing him a favour and not salivating at the prospect, eyes wide, blinking down at him from behind thick lashes.  

“Fuck.”  He’s sin incarnate, undeniable when he sheds his sweats, kicks them off with just one hand, other still slotted snug against your pussy.  He never ceases his movements, fucking you on his fingers even as he sits upright, leaned back on his calves.  “You want a taste?  Shy girl wants a big fat cock in her mouth?”  

There's something about hearing him so turned on, the expletive shooting a dizzying bolt of desire straight between yours legs.  You’ve seen Jungkook worked up - he was awfully competitive, after all, dominating most intramural sports, breaking PR records in the gym - but it's something else completely when he's making you drip cum all over his hand.

"Wow.”

Jungkook's cock is pretty, flushed and glossy from the pre-cum he spreads with his thumb, massaging over the tip like it owes him something.  

You want to taste it.

A contented hum rolls off your tongue at his question, though you don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.  His ego's big enough without it and you’re much more interested in stroking something else.  Still, you lean into his palm, nuzzling your cheek against the warmth of it when he threads his hand through your hair, gathering it in his fist.

Then without looking away, your mouth falls open, tongue peeking past your lips to lick a fat stripe up the length of his cock, from base to tip.  It's hot and heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum better than candy.  You hum again, swirling your tongue around the head, and keep your gaze locked with Jungkook's, almost smirking when you drag your tongue over his fingers, gently grazing the edge of your teeth against the pad of his thumb. 

“Please.”  You’re usually far more reserved, not the kind to ask for more until you’re three months into dating and certain of where you stand.  You simply can’t help yourself now, the feeling of your own wetness painting your skin, making you clench around nothing.  "I need it."

The groan that comes sounds more like Christmas, a gift given by Santa Claus himself.  It filters into your ears and has you grinning up at him, not even bothering to hide the pride that flutters your lashes and has you pursing your lips around the head of his cock.  

When he speaks again, it’s dangerously quiet, low in his throat, laced with whatever same emotion that seems to shackle your limbs.  “Open up, ____,”  he instructs, though he offers little time to adjust, guiding his cock forward, stuffing your mouth full.  “Show me how bad.”

You don’t mind.  If you were to speak, it’d practically be a prayer, tongue tracing the veins that run the length.  A chorus of yes please more when he takes just as much as he gives.  You love the power that comes with Jungkook speaking so filthily, drunk on it when he continues, spewing filth in time with each rock of his hips.

Lips seal around the swollen head each time he withdraws, cheeks hollowing around the tip.  Tongue passes over his fingers again before your hand rises, fingers curling around his wrist to pull his own away.  (You probably shouldn't - it's too romantic - but thread your fingers through his in the same instant you sink down upon his cock, taking him halfway before pulling off with a pop!)

"Do you think you'll last long enough to fuck me?"  You’re pushing his buttons on purpose, just like he had yours during the movie. 

Something close to a snarl comes, a growl that reverberates out of that big cavernous chest of his, and he grips your hair tighter, tries to hold you still as he grins down at you.  The expression is so at odds with the warmth in his eyes, the boyish tilt of his head.

You repeat the motion again and again, taking him a little bit deeper until the head brushes the back of your throat, reflexively swallowing around the intrusion.  He's still so long and thick you haven’t even taken him all, drooling around his length, breathing through your nose and pushing past the desire to gag.  Then you relax your jaw just a little more, humming when your nose brushes the neatly groomed patch of hair at his base.

Your free hand slinks across his thigh, nails digging into the meat, delighted by the flex of muscle and sinew beneath your hand.  He's so hard, both on your tongue and beneath your touch.  It prompts you to shift forward just a bit more - you can feel the slick on your thighs, dripping down onto the sheets with each movement - and trace across his thigh to gently palm his balls.

If you could speak, you’d probably ask for more.  For Jungkook to use and abuse your throat as much as he wants.  As it stands, you can only moan around him, spit and his pre-cum smeared over your lips.

“Look at you.”  He’s talking to himself, lost in his own world as he fucks into your mouth, soothes the pad of his thumb over your cheek.  You adore the way he sounds now, dazed and a little messed up.  “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, ____.”

You can’t do much more than look up at him, batting your lashes when he compliments you, dragging your tongue everywhere you can reach as the head of his cock batters the back of your throat.  It's not an easy feat, drool all the way down your chin, trailing down your neck and staining the silk of your camisole.

At some point, you’ll need to pull off - get a proper breath of air - but not now.  Instead, you swallow around him, savouring the feeling of him filling your mouth, and squeeze gently at his balls.  When you wink up at him, it's half-hearted and with moisture in your eyes, lining lashes in the form of little gemstones.

You do it again and again, moaning lewdly around his cock before it gets too much, pulling off of him with a gasping breath and tears down your cheeks.  “Is it my turn yet?”  You’re only half-joking, made needier by the soreness in your throat, the same you want to feel so desperately between your legs.  Pressing a sweet, chaste peck to his head, tongue dipping into his slit to gather the pre-cum that leaks out, you offer the sweetest smile you can, saccharine sweet and soft.  

“Your turn?”  The way Jungkook snorts is derisive, playful.  It pulls straight off his tongue - which finds yours, swapping spit as he guides you back to the bed.  Teeth collide, lips grown swollen by the intensity of your kiss, and you startle when he nips hard at the bottom petal.  “I thought you were shy.”

“I am,”  you retort, returning the gesture, biting into the curve of his jaw with surprising repose.  Colour blooms beneath the edge of enamel, a smattering of colour that makes you smile, eager to leave more.

Which you would do, if Jungkook weren’t stripping before you, peeling his shirt from his front, tugging it over his head in that weirdly hot way that somehow all boys did.  It reveals skin in a single fluid pull, clothing discarded to the side before he levels you with a smile of his own, one that stirs to life the dimple in his cheek, eyes squinting with the intensity of his delight.  He looks deceptively sweet this way, nothing like the demon who’d just stuffed his cock down your throat.

You’re not sure which version of him you like best.

Seeing him now, dressed in nothing but that absurd, devilishly handsome grin of his, you’re not prepared.  You’re unsure where to look, gaze bouncing between the tattoos that crawl up his arms and span over his left pec, down the neatly defined ridges of his abs, and all the way back to his swollen, shiny cock.

“You’re drooling.”  Of course it’s something he’d say - because he always knows what to say, plucking perfect words from thin air.  The casual banter calms the rattle in your chest and refocuses it on his face that’s too close, looming over yours as his hands make quick work of your clothes, shedding the fabric from your form with deft, measured movements.

You’re ready to say something teasing - anything to distract from the fact that you’re still ogling him - when he catches you in another kiss, softer this time, infinitely sweeter.  Suddenly, you’re shy - which really makes no sense, given what’s transpired.

"Don't make fun of me,"  you mumble, as bashful as you were during the movie, embarrassment burning across your cheeks.  Arms rise to cover what little of your chest you can, folding around his broad palms that encompass them whole, tweaking at the straining buds.

“I’m not,”  Jungkook reassures against your lips, face dropping into the crook of your neck.  He nuzzles against you, sucking affection into the column of your throat, shamelessly laying a wreath of lust into the delicate skin.  You wonder whether he can hear the stutter of your pulse, the reaction his next words elicit.  “You’re pretty when you do it.”

You can’t quite pull your eyes away from his face, shrouded in lemon tart, so good-looking it’s unfair; his broad back and the muscle that threads it, undulating with each movement;  or the way his thighs flex between your spread knees.  You’re dragged through heaven and hell by the brush of his lips, each glide overstimulating your senses to the point of no return.  You’re still burning up, all the foreplay leaving your legs like jelly, cunt dripping with need.  "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Probably not the best thing to say with the position you’re in but the reality of the situation is hitting you and you’re feeling a little vulnerable.  Want an answer that’ll soften the sharp edges of his teeth, the intoxicating glint in his stare.

“No, just you.”  Whether it’s true or not, you can’t say for certain.  You hope it is - wish upon a star for it, laying all your hopes and dreams into the constellations in his eyes.  They’re lovely, winking down at you from the darkest depths, guiding you home.  

You don’t mean to scoff - really, you don’t.  It comes of its own accord, spilling forth like a glass too full.

“You don’t believe me?”  He sounds almost offended, the picture of innocence when he reaches down, hand scrambling about for pooled black fabric.  Comes back up with a packet between his index and middle finger, held aloft like a prize.  

How can you when he’s ready to devour you whole, primed to feast as he rolls the condom over his length, stroking himself once, twice, gaze never wavering from where it rests between your legs.

“Always prepared.”  It’s scathing but somehow tender, too mesmerised by the way he fucks into his loose fist.  You’d say more - maybe make a flippant comment about his reputation - but can’t find the words when he’s teasing you, swollen head tapping teasingly over your core.  It feels like too much, leaves you breathless when he hikes your legs up and nearly folds you in half. 

When he presses into you, the sound you make is sinful, a moan you can’t help.  Jungkook’s so fucking big you’re sure you’re about to split in half, pussy clenching tight around the sudden intrusion.  “Oh my god,”  you whine, hands coiling into his hair, trying desperately to relax, the sting of the stretch battling the pressure that builds as he sinks further in.  “You’re so big.  I c-can’t—”  You’re starting to babble nonsense and he hasn’t even begun moving yet, lips hot over the sweat-slick column of his throat when he bows, burning his presence into the grace of your neck.  A hickey of your own creation blooms right where your mouth is, right over his shoulder.  The salt of his skin distracts you, makes it easier to accommodate the fullness.  “You feel so good, Kook.”  You rock experimentally beneath him, clenching tight as if to draw him deeper.  “Please, move,”  you beg, aiming to form another bruise beneath his skin.

The first thrust chases all the breath from your lungs, a gasp ricocheting off your tongue and into the minimal space between you.  He's absurdly big, stretching you out so well that every stroke feels like heaven.  When he pushes back in, snaps his hips in that easy, effortless motion of his, you’re making the most obscene noises, words lost to his hair as he lavishes your tits with attention.

B-big! is all you manage to squeak out.  It sounds like that, anyway.  With how he's filling you, it's hard to speak coherently;  you can practically feel him in your throat.  (Or maybe that's just from choking on him earlier.  You’re not really sure.)

Hands find their way around his neck, over his shoulders, periwinkle-painted nails leaving light etchings in their wake.  They bloom colour over his back - not too hard, careful still, motor skills barely functioning - before you tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him recklessly close as the pressure builds and builds, flooding your abdomen in heat. 

There’s slick all across your thighs.  You can hear the wet sounds each time Jungkook slips almost all the way out and then rocks back in.  It's terribly messy and so hot but you’re greedy, drunk off the feeling of having this Adonis break you in half.  "Harder, p-please."  Eyes wide, you tug gently at the soft strands at the nape of his neck, meeting his with a flutter of your lashes.  "Please?"

He acquiesces without hesitation, fucks you harder, deeper, like an animal in a rut.  Grinds against you with each thrust, pushing you to your limits.  Even has the audacity to push further, until the strain in your hips conflicts with the pleasure skipping up your spine, melting you into a boneless mass.

You’ve never felt like this, stretched out and used.  You’re used to gentle lovers, sweet - if not boring - lovemaking.  The way Jungkook's pounding into you is unheard of and you’re loving it, his name whimpered on a feedback loop.  A steady Kook, Kook, Kook that twinkles in your ears, inarticulate and pleading as you rock shamelessly against him.

“You like that, ____?”  It’s a question for his own ego, something he knows but asks anyway.  (It’d be impossible not to know the answer when your cunt’s sucking him in, coating his cock in a pretty sheen.)

You’re nodding dumbly, breathless, eager to meet him each time he snaps forward.  (It’s not easy like this, practically prone beneath him, twisted into a pretzel.)  "Like it so m-much.  Feels so good.”  You can’t stop smoothing open mouthed kisses over his fluffy hair, basking in the sunshine that radiates off him. 

There's an ache starting between your legs, pussy swollen around his thick length.  You’re grateful for your natural flexibility, the hot yoga sessions you’d entertained on-and-off for years.  You’re sure you’d feel it in your legs too, knees pushed all the way up by your ears, if not for that.  

But still, you’re defenceless, made to experience each and every thing he has to offer:  every vein and ridge, the head of his cock reaching so deep it's almost too much.  With each stroke, Jungkook’s brushing against the sensitive spot that has pleasure skyrocketing, blossoming like a rose garden in spring.  "R-right there,"  you manage, rolling your hips purposefully, nearly crying each time he brushes against your g-spot.

“Right there?”  He parrots it back, infuriating and adorable, the teasing tenor dripping over you like raindrops.  They settle beneath your skin, sinking into your bones as he rears back just enough, enough to steal a kiss that’s far more tongue than it needs to be.  

It’s almost as if he’s trying to drown you, sink you beneath high tide.  

Spit descends down your chin, trails over your neck and it’s a little gross but you don’t care.  The attention he’s giving is shameless, passed over your cheeks, your throat, your breasts.  He gives and gives, both with his lips and the praise that comes unfettered.  “Perfect,”  he hums, sucking your nipple into his mouth, worrying the bud until it’s straining and puffy, too sensitive when he kisses you again and your own thigh brushes against it.  You whimper at the feeling, pulling softly at his hair, unsure whether you want less or need more.  “So sensitive.  Such a shy girl.  Such a pretty girl.”

Every word of praise has you beaming, nearly purring with delight despite the pain that comes when he puts you through the same once more, laving over the other bud with abandon.  He's sweat-slick, beads of it running down his neck, over the mosaic of bruises you’ve left behind.  It's almost embarrassing how dark his throat is coloured, a dozen reminders left all over his skin.

(You wonder how long they’ll last, how many days will pass as the colour shifts, changing like autumn leaves.  Whether they’ll still be there at your next lecture, if he’ll wear them with pride or cover up beneath one of his big baggy sweaters.)

(You hope it’s the latter.)

(Maybe he’ll let you give him more.)

(Maybe he—)

There’s a change of pace and you’re crying out, hiccupping with each thrust, the head of his cock finding your g-spot with unbearable, unrelenting precision.  Clawing at his arms, long nails digging into the firm muscle of his biceps, something between a sob and a plea rolls off your tongue, over and over.  "So big.  It's too m-much.”  And yet you don’t want him to stop, punch drunk from the way he reaches deep and pulls you tighter against him, hips risen off the bed. 

You’re begging again, eyes rolled so far back in your head you can hardly focus, the coil in your stomach pulled so tight you know it's about to snap.  When Jungkook laughs - a sweet giggle that proves his duality - you clench almost painfully, tears finally spilling over. 

One last brush against your most sensitive spot, one last thrust of that monster cock, and you’re peaking, coming so intensely you feel as if you’re soaring. Everything's suddenly so much more wet, release soaking into the linens beneath you, coating your thighs and his legs and dripping between you.

You’ve never come like this before, without some sort of direct stimulation on your clit.  It’s pleasurable in a different way, severing all your sensibilities, explosive in its magnitude.  It tingles beneath your skin, flooding all your senses. 

"Kook—please—come for me.”  You’re rocking up, forward - trying to, at least, folded as you are - singing his name, pleading for him to fuck his cum into you (momentarily ignorant to the fact that you’ve been responsible, a thin wall of latex separating you from your fucked out fantasy).  

Despite the sensitivity, you’re clenching around him, eager to bring him to his own high.  You want to feel him come apart above you, eroded into a mess like you are.

He’s just as pretty reaching his peak as he is at any other time, handsome face screwed up as if he’s reached nirvana, bliss slacking his features the longer he rides it out, bucking into you as he fills the condom and still doesn’t stop.  It’s almost unbearable, oversensitivity spilling into pleasure until he leisurely grinds to a halt, stops the inconsistent pressure against your bundle of nerves, the assault on your fluttering walls.

When he collapses against you, whole face squished between the valley of your breasts, you can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and endeared.  “Are you okay?”  You don’t mind where he is, weight comforting, skin sticky on yours.  He’s unbelievably warm - a blanket fresh from the wash and yet so much better, lulling you into a sense of security.

“Better than okay,”  he murmurs against your chest, smothering open-mouthed kisses over skin, snickering when you jolt at the feel of his teeth over your nipple one last time.  “You’re welcome.”  It’s an indulgent, facetious expression of gratitude, one that you haven’t asked for.  You laugh all the same, ducking your head into the crown of spun gold atop his head.  

“You too.”

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle​

[heresathreebee]

The One Where She Got A Dog

Yelena Belova X Reader

Summary: how Yelena became a dog mom Masterlist Part 2

Tags: E | 1.8k words | scary movie, winter, secret pasts, sapphic

AN: Black Widow movie really got me in my feelings about those characters, Yelena in particular. I havent watched The Thing in almost a year please look the other way if movie events are out of order.

Pretty Russian girls are not usually your type, but fuck if you weren't absolutely obsessed with this one. You laughed when she told you she was from Ohio.  She laughed when you said you were too. 

Aquavit and your grandma's biscuit recipe brought her into your cabin on the edge of the world where she admitted to you she had never seen John Carpenter's The Thing before. You turned it on just as the snow storm set in and wrapped up in your thickest blankets with her. You're trying not to get your hopes too high but she's not shy about asking you to scoot closer. 

"Skäl," you cheer just as the ominous opening credits end and they find the mysterious ship in the frozen wasteland of antarctica. 

"Have you ever been?," Yelena asked. 

You grimace at the strong taste of aquavit. It's like vodka but with caraway for 'flavor'. You look at her from the side and poor yourself a second shot. "Been…?" 

"There." She points at the screen. 

"I have actually," you admit in a way you hope is flat and uninteresting, "have you?" 

Yelena shook her head. It's possible she might think you're being sarcastic (you cross your fingers under the blanket and hope she does). She's smiling at you, thinking something (but still watching the screen with interest). 

She drops the subject until you have to pause the movie to pee. You unwrap yourself from the cocoon of blankets and as you stand she asks you another question. 

"What were you doing there? in Antarctica, I mean." 

You sigh and pretend to brush something off of your pants. "Science trip with my parents. Shitty vacation for me I'd rather be in the Bahamas." 

You resist the urge to look at her. After taking care of business, you come back just in time to put the biscuits in the oven. You hear Yelena lean into the kitchen archway as the floors creak immensely here. 

"No timer?," she asked. 

"No timer," you confirm. "I use the timer of my heart." 

Yelena scoffs. "Please don't burn them, I'm curious about these… what are they– pastries?" 

"Something like that." 

The two of you went back to the movie just as the gang on screen is trying to decipher who is human and who is not. You feel like something between you has changed and sadly not for the better. 

But she can't know. 

"I hate this part," you say, making absolutely no move to avert your gaze. 

Yelena is startled when the doctor's arms become trapped in the bear trap belly mouth of the "man" on the table. She quickly covers her eyes and giggles manically, slapping your chest for the vague and unhelpful warning. You realize she's not as close to you as before…

There's 20 minutes left of this movie and you haven't seen a single thing on screen. Yelena stopped asking you questions when you stopped being coherent with your answers. All you can think about is telling her. 

But you can't tell her. She would never understand. You barely understand and it's about you. 

"I lied." Your heart beats in your throat as you see her face you but you can't look at her directly for fear of losing your nerve. "About the science expedition? That's not why I was in Antarctica…" 

Yelena seems to wait for you to continue but… 

"Eh, no offense but, " you gesture with your hand, "I don't really know you like that." 

Yelena gave your reply a single nod. "I suppose that's fair." 

You can't help but fidget in your seat. "Idliketo" 

"What was that?" 

You cleared your throat. "I said… I said I'd like to. Know you like that, I mean…" 

Yelena gives you a smile. "I would like to know you like that, too." 

The movie ends, the biscuits are not burnt but buttery soft and golden brown, and the blizzard outside has subsided some. It's still going but at least it's not buffering the doors and windows like before. 

"How can you watch that film in a place like this?" Yelena cannot get enough of those biscuits, stuffing them in her mouth 2 at a time. "Does it make you paranoid?" 

"Yes it does," you say, putting your coat on, "I think that's what makes it so much scarier–  looking outside and being scared every person you come across ain't who they say they are. Sometimes its not a bad thing though... I think it is rather… poetic, too." 

Yelena's eyebrows furrow. "Where are you going?" 

You put on your boots and hope the duct tape stays on the hole you covered earlier. "Dogs are out in the shed. It's heated and they have food, but not for days and I'd rather have 'em in the house where I can take care of them." 

As you finished your sentence you reached for the door,  but stopped when you noticed Yelena getting dressed too. She gives you a nod as soon as her hood comes up, and you give this brave thing an appreciative once over. 

The snow that nearly all melted before is up to your knees now. Fresh, white, and fluffy. It muffles sound like the world's sidelong turning. The odd snowflake wafts lazily from the sky, but for the most part it's died down. You teach back and take Yelena's gloved hand to keep from staying too far apart. 

"You know I always wanted a dog," she said. She could have said it in a whisper from 100 yards away and you still would have heard her–  that is how eerily quiet it is. 

Yelena squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. She's probably remembering the movie. You try to distract her by saying, "Oh yeah? You can have one of mine then." 

Yelena laughs, then stops. "You serious?" 

"As a heart attack." You finally reach the door to the shed and unlatch the door. A chorus of barks begin and you charge forward to nudge them back to give Yelena space to come in as well. "I do some breeding up here–  just a side job. They're usually working dogs but they can be pets too." 

Buck licks your face from chin to forehead and you push him back. "Down, boy! Show some respect!" 

Yelena has two of the mongrels circling her, sniffing all her clothes and demanding to be pet. "That's Burt, Barney, and Bella. Buck's my stud, but these heathens are going to a farm. They've got sheep to watch." 

Yelena chuckles as her hands get covered in slobber. "I love them." 

They're almost grown, three quarters the height of their father. Buck didn't even look in Yelena's direction because he knows you give him treats. You take your scarf off as the heat of the shed threatens to smother you and search your pockets for jerky.  

"She's in there with the new puppies." You point to a darkened closet. "Don't get too close now, she's still a little protective." 

Yelena creeps closer. You see her look at you from the corner of her eye. Probably terrified by the morphing dog scene from the movie. You give her an encouraging smile and tell her where to find the light. It's a pull cord and it bathes the room in a warm golden yellow light. 

Yelena's heavy, controlled breathing turns into a coo. Mama dog is laying on her side watching the newcomer closely. There's a pup asleep in the nest of her legs, another chewing on the hay that litters the ground, and the last one is biting their mother's ear. Yelena looks back at you with an adorable pout on her lip. 

"So cute…" 

You chuckle and put your arm around her. Buck knows to steer clear of mama dog and slinks off. You make your guest walk closer with you to show mama she's got your confidence. 

"Yelena, this is Beyonce." Mama dog's ears perk at the sound of her name. "Beyonce, this is Yelena. Be nice." 

You reach down and scoop up the hay eating puppy at your feet. "This one's always hungry." 

You put the pup in her arms and scoop up the biter. "This one likes to play. All the time. Got more energy than the blue Energizer bunny actually." 

The pup in question is literally trying to wriggle out of your hands in its eagerness to climb you and eat your hair. 

"And that one sleeps a lot?" Yelena nodded her head at the last pup. 

"Pretty much." You put the writhing excited puppy down before it hurts itself and look up into the rafters. "And then there's the climber…" 

You both turn your heads when you hear a tiny bark. A cute little face stares down at you from the rafters and there's a feather stuck to its nose. You shake your head knowing this pup got it from ripping up pillows in another part of the dog house. 

"Better go get her," you said, not moving an inch to do so.  

Yelena sees your challenge and rises to it. As if trained to do exactly so, she assesses the wooden interior for foot and hand holds. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she calculates what will and won't support her weight. In the sweep of a single moment, she rises from the door and swings herself into the rafters using a build up a momentum to propel her fast in an upperward direction. She completes the climb and balances with ease, reaching out to collect the happy wagging miscreant from her mountain top, tucks her in her jacket and climbs a different way down. 

You stare at her. "Were you raised by trapeze artists?" 

Yelena laughs. "I thought everybody was." 

The pup is safe and happy and eager to explore its new friend. Yelena lets her lick, sniff, and scratch at her skin, her clothes, her hair. The pup catches Yelena with a tiny lick right on the tip of her nose and Yelena looks back at you with adoring eyes. 

You smile. "Got a name for her already don't you?" 

"Yes," Yelena whines, "no, are you sure about this? I should probably tell you I've never had a dog before…" 

"I can tell your good people," you reply. "And smart as a whip. You'll adapt, just call me if you ever need anything." 

~

Three weeks later you get a phone call from an unknown number. It's Yelena giving you an address and making you swear never to tell anybody about it. You don't have any friends so it's an easy secret to keep. 

You drive a few miles south and stumble upon a stationary trailer in the middle of nowhere, nothing but clearings and trees and sky. Actually very similar to your own home. 

The door opens and Yelena greets you with a beer and the pup under her arm, already almost a foot bigger than she was before. 

"Her name is Fanny." You both laugh yourselves hoarse and pile into the trailer to puppy proof the place. 

[spice-chan]

Cure Me

King!singledad! Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

Prince Matsuki makes an interesting friend. he could have never foretold who she is to his father...

TW: curses, sickness

Thank you so much to @stargazingaloneatnight for sending this lovely request ! I totally got carried away though, so it’s going to have a second part. 

Thanks a lot to @patt-writes-stuff and @reddriot for being amazing beta readers !!

Wordcount: 4.4 K

..........................................

At the ripe age of 18, you were married off to the woodcutter in your village. 

You weren’t enthusiastic about it, but you didn’t dissent. After all, in a small village, all the people of close age were expected to marry eventually. It was either him, the farmer or the butcher. A prince isn’t going to come and sweep you off your feet.

You moved to the isolated cabin near the woods where your husband resided, and you lived there with him for a year. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as harmony, but it was peaceful enough for you to be content. He respected you and you respected him, but you yearned for something more.You yearned for love, for the overwhelming feeling that would envelope you whole, that would elicit shivers from your spine, and down to your very toes. 

But you had to get those foolish fantasies out of your head; after all, your husband was now all you had. Until you didn’t have him anymore. 

His body was found, squashed underneath a large tree that fell the wrong way. 

Guilt and loss reigned in your mind and heart. You wondered, should you have appreciated him more ? Should you have cherished the little moments instead of wishing for something better? 

It was a lonely existence for a while after that, until a red eyed, spikey haired little boy ventured to your isolated abode. 

………

Loneliness was a disease that feasted on your open wounds until they were gaping holes, bleeding and gushing, but you were unable to stitch them back together. Who wants to be lonely, truly? So all Bakugo did was cover the open wounds with his hand, growling protectively as he shielded himself. And he couldn’t stitch together the hole in his chest, even when his hand was stained red as evidence of his pain. 

He thought he loved her. He convinced himself he loved her. The only woman and person who seemingly managed to stand him and understand him. He tried so hard to be good to her. Tried to act better when he saw the gleam of judgement in her eyes. Only to wake up one day with a letter telling him “don’t look for me” and “I’ll be somewhere better. Away from you and that spawn. Good luck with him, though you’ll probably have enough soon and throw him somewhere far, the sound of his cries is annoying.” 

Him. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. 

It’s like he was a disposable piece of trash to her. Katsuki’s teeth gnashed whenever he remembered the way she spoke of her own son, his son. 

“DAD!” screamed a little boy, the carbon copy of his dad, running to his father's lap where he ducked down and hid between them. 

Bakugo growled playfully, bending his back to look at the excitable little boy, who held his finger to his lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing, squirt?” 

“I’m hiding from Shitty Maid.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows at the foul language that came out of his son’s mouth, but his response never made the light of day as a flustered and heaving maid entered the dining chamber, her eyes frantically searching. 

“My king, I’m so sorry ! Have you seen Prince Matsuki come here ?” she questioned breathlessly, the prince having evidently tired her out. 

Bakugo clicked his teeth rather impertinently. “No, you shitty maid, I didn’t see him come here,” he replied and resumed eating, seemingly unperturbed by his son being ‘missing’. 

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’ll resume my search for him. Sorry to have disturbed you!” she exclaimed before picking her gown and scrambling out. 

Bakugo stared beneath his chair pointedly, his carbon copy only giving doe eyes as a reply. 

“Why are you hiding anyway?!”

Matsuki crawled out from underneath the chair and stood up, dusting his knees. 

“She wants to teach me eti-etiquette or whatever,” Matsuki grumbled. “I’m going out to play with my friends.” 

Etiquette? How useless. Is that what they are teaching his son? 

Bakugo clapped his back, glad to see his son not be a pushover. “Don’t be late, squirt.”

“Ok, dad!” Matsuki jumped and enveloped Katsuki’s muscular frame in a hug with his tiny arms, warming Katsuki’s heart as he ruffled his son’s spiky hair. 

……..

Matsuki couldn’t find his friends. 

He ventured into the woods in search of them, sporting a scowl everyone should be familiar with. His tiny, handsome face scrunched slightly as he looked around the place curiously. His feet padded on, scrunching on crispy fallen leaves in their wake. 

He walked for a while, marking trees as he went along to ensure he didn’t get lost, but eventually, a sugary sweet scent had his tiny legs move faster on their own accord in search of it. The closer he seemingly got, the more powerfully the mouth watering scent assaulted his nose. It smelled cozy on this chilly day, like a warm cup of milk by a warm fire as snow fell outside.

He reached a clearing. The thick, intimidating trees that loomed over him shrunk away until there was none left. 

No trees, but he found a small cabin with a window cracked open. 

He boldly marched up to it, his mouth set in a straight, determined line. A fisted palm knocked once, twice, and thrice on the worn out wood, to ensure that it was heard. 

His nervousness set in when the handle turned and a lady emerged at the threshold. He steeled himself. His daddy told him that if he wanted something, he should work to get it. 

You smiled at him warmly when you spotted him: a young, unfamiliar boy. He looked out of his element, but his strange red eyes stared at you despite how he seemed to be unused to such situations. His eyes reflected the embers of a brave soul. 

“There was a nice smell coming from here,” he admitted, his tiny face scrunching into a scowl that seemed more adorable than anything.

“Well, yes, I baked cookies,” you responded mildly, your voice never too high but quite clear. The boy’s eyes widened, his red hues glistening in child-like excitement.

“Cookies?!”  He jumped, and clutched your gown. 

“Can I have some ?” Puppy dog eyes stared up at you, pleading and cute. You haven’t encountered a child in a long time. You stopped going to the village as often, and eventually, they stopped visiting too. Your mother died after she contracted something, her old body unable to fight it off, and your dad ran off somewhere to ‘adventure’. 

“Sure.” You moved from the threshold. “Come in.” You gestured with your head to your small cottage, a humble place, but a reminder of your lonesome existence. 

He brightened up considerably, his mouth twisting into a sweet smile. He would become such a handsome young man once he grew up. It made you wonder how beautiful his parents must be. 

You pulled a chair for him at the table, and went to put some cookies on a plate for him. 

“YUM. That’s so delicious!” He spoke between mouthfuls, some tiny crumbs flying out of his mouth in his excitement. 

“Thank you, but be careful. You might choke if you speak while chewing sweetie,” you chided him lightly. Matsuki didn’t recognize this tone, it sounded equal parts stern and caring. He nodded and continued munching down. 

“Would you like to drink something? I have some orange juice, and uh, water. I could make tea, but I don’t think kids your age fancy that you rambled, suddenly excited about having someone keep you company for the first time in a while. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but upon remembering your words, he opted to chew for a few more seconds then swallowing his cookies before bellowing out,“Yes! Orange juice.” 

How adorable. 

You poured two glasses of orange juice and joined your little companion, munching on some cookies of your own. Before long, he finished all of them and leaned back on the chair, mouth letting out a sigh and hand patting his stomach as a show of overindulgence. 

“Good?” 

“Yup! You’re a very nice lady. Way nicer than my dummy maid,” he grumbled, you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or concerned, but one thing did grab your attention. 

“Maid ?” 

He nodded, slightly confused at your question. 

“Don’t you have one ?” You quirked an eyebrow and looked around your tiny cottage. Did it look like you have one? 

Oh God, you hoped this boy wasn’t mistaking his mother for a maid. With that in mind, you asked him, however, his face fell in sadness and the fire in his eyes dulled a little. 

“I don’t have a mother. The maids always talk about how sorry they are for me. I hate it. None of them even care about me,” he spoke in a quiet voice, tearing at your heart with his down turned face. 

“But at least I have my daddy,” he spoke up, brightening a little. You smiled at that, reaching towards him and ruffling his fluffy yet spikey blond hair. 

“That’s good. Keep cherishing your father, at least the two of you have each other.” You wiped some crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin, speaking to the boy in a lonesome voice; unintentionally mothering him. 

He smiled and nodded;unintentionally accepting. 

The boy was either mistaking some people in his household for maids, or he was some rich merchant’s son. On that note—

“Did you tell anyone you’re coming here? They might be worried about you,” you asked cautiously, but then your eyes widened as a new wave of worry hit you. 

“Oh my God, what if you got lost? Do you know your way back?” 

You sighed in relief when he nodded, flashing you a smile with his teeth on display, one of them missing from the front, making it all the more endearing. You narrowed your eyes at him, prompting him to elaborate. 

“I always come to play around here with my friends. It’s really close to home!” You oo’d. However, it was now his turn to panic. “Oh no, I forgot all about them !” He looked outside, seeing the sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky. 

“I think I can still catch them,” he declared determinedly, and hopped off his seat. His tiny legs carried him to the door, his pale hand grasping the worn down doorknob, but before twisting it, he turned to you, his smile of youth gracing his face again. 

“See you later, nice lad !”

.……..……

“No way! You wanted to be a pirate? But they’re so nasty!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose at you in disgust. You shrugged, shoulders slumped. 

“I thought it’d be a fun time. I found it in a book and dreamed that one day, I too can embark on an adventure and find hidden treasures,”you explained with a dreamy, yet nostalgic look in your eyes, akin to one looking back fondly at a long gone memory. It’s been nearly a year since you met the mystery child. You’ve been...noticeably happier. 

His cherry red orbs made your day, along with an innocence that was very hard to maintain in these tough times, although that's probably because his toughness differs from yours. 

He pouted, running a hand through his tamed locks. “Well, why can’t you?” 

He stared up at you expectantly, oblivious to what he was expecting. His red orbs burwith ith the flame of innocenand and didnuldn’t dare blow it out. 

“I don’t know.” 

Even for his young age, he was perceptive. Bbut before he could question your downtrodden face, you stood up, coughing loudly. It went on for a few seconds, and Matsuki watched worriedly as you cupped your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking from the force. 

After you stopped, you breathed for a few seconds, face flushed and stamina depleted. But again, before he could question anything, you stood up, stretching. The sun hit your face, which looked noticeably paler, but you forced a smile anyway, and held your hand out for Matsuki to grab and follow suit. 

“Let’s go inside, you wanted me to redo your hair, right ?” He grabbed your hand with renewed vigor, hopping off the wood and trekking with you back inside the cottage. 

He said his maid had to slick his hair back because they had guests over and he ‘had to look more presentable’, which you internally scoffed at. His hair was amazing as it was. 

You’d never seen a texture so amazing. It was soft as silk, but it appeared spikey. Like a porcupine or something, looked thorny but had a soft side? 

You brought some water and wet his hair, before drying it with a towel. You could already see some results. You brought a hairbrush and began to hum softly while brushing his semi dry blond locks. 

You towelled it once again, before patting him across the back. Your head felt light, and a light pain began to creep in. You probably need some water. 

“THANK YOU! It was so ugly before.” He pranced about, happy that his hair no longer looked like some ‘sappy extra’. You wonder where the child got those interesting phrases. You stood up to get a glass of water, but the moment you stood up, the world swirled, spinned, and blurred. And then it all faded to black. 

You hit the floor with a loud thump, and Matsuki sprung to his feet and frantically ran to your side. 

His small hands grabbed your arm and shook you, his face growing warm and throat getting clogged up, before tears burst forth. They dampened your sleeves, continuously flowing like a waterfall, but you still remained almost lifeless on the floor. Matsuki was young, helpless, and alone. 

And he did what any young, helpless and crying child would do. 

He ran to the person he loves —his father. 

……………

Bakugou heard the sound of Matsuki running before h, felt the wind, tornado like, as the doors of his room were pushed open in a manner so excitable he’d consider it rather insolent had it not been his own son. 

 His reprimands were stuck in his throat when he saw the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of his shis heart aching at the sight. 

“What’s wongh” he asked softly, the tone rather unusual coming from him. Then again, his son coming to him crying was something very rare.oo., Matsuki took after his  and and he was a very brave and strong boy. Something that Bakugou lamented about, at times. Being his carbon copy wasn’t that much of a blessing when it came to the matters of the heart. 

Matsuki found his dad sitting at his desk, he ran to him and clung to his legs, crying uncontrollably. 

It took Bakugou a second to overcome his awkwardness and emotional constipation. He scooped his son up and sat him on his lap, wiping his tears away. 

“Hey squirt, calm down and tell me what’s wrong. If it’s someone that upset you, God help them-” 

Matsuki tried to halt his hiccups, failing for a few seconds while he hugged his dad, he patted his back comfortingly. 

“Dad, my friend…” he began, but his eyes watered as a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst. 

“What happened to your friend, Matsuki?” 

Matsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes before continuing. 

“So, she’d been sick for a few weeks, but today when I visited her, she fell and wouldn’t wake up,” Matsuk explainedd, clutching into Bakugou tightly. 

Bakugou hummed, nodding solemnly. 

“Can you take me where your friend is?” 

Matsuki nodded, but Katsuki was dubious about the nature of this pursuit. His distrustful nature was shining through.If this ‘friend’ was outside the protective barrier, then Katsuki didn’t know what to really expect. So before leaving his room, he donned his protective amber around his neck, a magical jewel chosen by his dragon when he was younger. All shifters choose an enchanted jewel to guard their existence and warn them of dangers. He made sure to pick up his son’s, looping the necklace around his neck, the jewel dangling and shining. 

He needed to give his son a talk about this. 

…………

They walked in the forest for a while before reaching a small, worn out looking cottage. Bakugou arched a blond eyebrow, more curious than ever. He’d think it was a ploy with more sinister intentions, luring both prince and king but… he’d never seen his son more shook up over someone, they must mean a lot to him. He couldn’t bear to delay this. 

They reached the door, the wood creaking as Bakugo opened it. His ruby eyes started searching for you, and when they caught your figure on the floor, they began gleaming. 

He felt the breath knocked out of him when he saw you, asleep (he hoped) like an angel with your hair looking wild but still adding to your charm like a halo. You looked so soft, so precious, and it felt like his life only began this moment when he caught sight of you. 

His heartbeat was so strong, he could feel it in his very eyes, who were overwhelmed with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, ones he didn’t spare a second glance at, extras, unworthy of his time. But for some reason, the beauty of you rooted him in his spot and halted all rational thoughts. He was only broken out of his reverie when Matsuki shook him. He felt a rush of love, devotion, and ease like he’d never felt before. It all made sense, the sense of loneliness, of being lost when his path is clear in front of him. Of finding every potential romantic partner lukewarm at best. 

“Dad. Can you help her ? I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

And in that moment, it dawned on him. 

Katsuki found his soulmate, but there’s a chance he might have already lost her. 

He ran to you checking your vitals, and thankfully, everything seemed fine. He put his forehead against yours, cursing when he felt a scalding fever. 

“What happened ?” He picked one of the numerous questions buzzing in his head. 

“Well, she did my hair like I’d asked her, but the moment she stood up, she fell down! I tried waking her up, but she wouldn’t. She’d been coughing a lot the past few weeks too and looking tired,” Matsuki explained clearly, now comforted by having his father share the weight with him. 

Katsuki looked around at the rather shabby place. Fit for a commoner. Not you. 

He was baffled at having a mate. Only the most legendary, wise and favoured dragons did, the dragons that made it to history scriptures. Things no one considered him to be. Things he was succumbing to not being. Things she convinced him he wasn’t. Sure, he could fight deadly wars, bring nations down to their knees, but violence did not warrant a soulmate. 

He scoop you up, closer to his chest. Heyouyou tightly, heart physically hurting at the thought of you being in pain. He just met you, what’s with him ? 

He stood up, nudging his son to leave. 

What a coincidence. An insane, crazy coincidence. 

His son, his only blessing in this shrouded world, was what led him to the one thing nobody thought he’d have. 

“Tell me more on the way.

Matsuki nodded. 

……………

Bakugou laid you on his bed, surrounding you with the softest materials one could ever touch. He pulled a chair besides you, lounging on it as he waited for a healer to arrive. 

You remained unconscious, but it seems like your temperature increased even more. He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t register that Matsuki walked inside the room until he was addressing him. 

“Is she going to be alright ?” Bakugou didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, then again, he didn’t have the heart to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know.” Somehow saying it out loud hurts even more. 

A knock on the door broke the gloominess. 

“Come in.” 

Hope walked in, in the shape of a short, old lady with medical equipment. 

Recovery Girl inspected you, from temperature to heartbeat. And when done, she sighed. 

“Everything boils down to it being a simple fever, but in that case, she wouldn’t be unconscious,” she explained ambiguously. She took one of your hands, and andr fingertips were icy cold. 

She hummed contemplatively. She brought out a healing crystal, squeezing it in one fist, while she held your hand in the other. The idea was to transfer the healing energy from the crystal to you, only possible through a healing mage. 

However, when nothing seemed to happen, Recovery Girl opened her fist. She found a shattered crystal. 

“Oh my…” 

Bakugou growled, frustration willing up and tipping over. “The fuck!” 

Recovery Girl glared at him. Such language shouldn’t be used in front of a child. 

“Typical healing methods aren’t going to work.” 

Silence reigned over this time, willing the old lady to continue on, both his and his son’s hearts on the edge. 

“I believe she’d been cursed.” 

Bakugou scrunched up his eyebrows at the absurd explanation. Who’d curse you of all people ? He only just discovered your existence!

Yet for some reason, he felt like he’d rather die than let you, the one who could love him for all his flaws, the one who always brought a smile on his son’s face, suffer. 

“How?” The deity up there must be very cruel, to take you away when he just met you. 

“I don’t know, son. There’s a very strong, malevolent energy, enough to break a healing crystal. It’s going to make her body reject anything that could heal it,” she explained solemnly. 

“If you want this young lady healthy and well, we need to take different measures to heal her. Also, do you know who cursed, or where she could have incurred it? That will be very helpful.” 

Bakugou looked at Matsuki, knowing that he himself is clueless. 

“This is the first time I met her. Matsuki seems to have met her a while ago in her tiny ass cottage outside the protective barrier.” She looked like she had some questions, but instead directed her attention to the little Bakugou and asked him what matters most right now. 

“Do you know anyone that might’ve done this? Have you seen her interact with anyone that could possibly be capable of it?” She knew asking a child would likely be more fruitless then not, but she still wished to help you in any way she could. 

Matsuki shook his head. 

“I’ve never even seen her talk with anyone.” This only served to increase Bakugou’s suspensions. Could it be something to do with your affiliation with Matsuki ? And if that was the case, then there’s so many other things he must take into account too, because that would mean that there’s a traitor in their midst, or at least someone that had been tracking Matsuki for… what fucking ever reason. 

He sighed, feeling an ache beginning to form in his head. He touched your arm, wanting to reassure himself that you are alive. 

A gasp rang out from the occupants of the room when you opened your eyes, making them seem glowy when the sunlight reflected off them, giving you an ethereal, angelic radiance. 

The air left his lungs, while blood rushed to his cheeks, making them seem ripe as apples. 

“How is this possible?” 

This shocked him awake, out of his reverie and into reality. 

Recovery Girl glanced at the arm Bakugo was touching, humming to herself with a knowing glint in her old, wise eyes. 

“Well, my king, did you forget? The oldest, most powerful magic that dragons have been gifted::soulmates.” 

Bakugo blushed again, kissing his teeth and glaring at Recovery Girl. 

“What are you babbling on about, old hag?” 

“I believe you know.” 

He glared at the ground, childishly not answering. 

“Um...what’s going on?” A small, feminine voice asked. Bakugou turned to you, melting at the majestic sound of your voice. 

“That’s a good question.” That brat. 

Bakugou tried to stay in contact with you, afraid of making the burst of magic triggered by your bond slipping away. 

“Uh, you lost unconsciousness and Matsuki asked me to help you. Oh, and apparently you were cursed.” Bakugou bluntly spits the facts at you, not thinking ahead for your reaction. 

“A CURSE?” you shouted, coughing after due to hoarseness. The old hag shot Bakugou another glare, before sweetening up and looking at you. 

“We’ll explain after you rest a bit and freshen up, you’d been through quite a bit.” she said, deliberately not divulging any information yet. She didn’t need to be there for the grand explanation. She’d rather not be, actually. 

She stood on her weary legs, leaving the room unnoticed as you admired your surroundings, and as Bakugou admired you. Matsuki’s stare lacked the burn of fascination as he stared at his father grumpily. 

“The fuck you looking at her so weird for?” Matsuki seethed. You gasped and turned to him. 

“Matsuki!” He bristled in frustration, having forgotten how much you hated it when he cursed. 

“Sorry. He was though!” 

Bakugou, throughout the whole thing, glared at his son with blushing cheeks. He wanted to spank some respect into him so bad right now. 

You turned to Bakugo, gaze weighty in the seriousness it’s burdened with. 

“Thanks for helping me, I appreciate it. You’re Matsuki’s father, right? The resemblance is hard to miss. Well, I have a lot of questions, but firstly, what do you mean by cursed?” 

You felt as if a rock was pressed against your chest, gloom overtaking your features as you awaited his answer. Still hopeful that it was a joke, but the ancient dark magic was not to be joked with. 

“Someone cursed you. It’s the cause for your sickness, and it’s slowly sapping the life out of you. You’re only awake because uh...the magic of our bond is more powerful.” Bakugou rushed the last part, his heart beating, squeezing painfully when silence hung in the air after his not so confession. 

You purse your lips, the movement catching Bakugo’s attention, drawing him to your lips. Supple, kissable lips. 

“Our bond?” 

Bakugo nodded. 

“You’re my soulmate, it’s why—probably why Matsuki was so drawn to you.” Bakugo was looking forward to explaining more, before his door was busted open (a common occurrence these days it seems) by a panting soldier, who summoned the strength to salute stiffly. 

“Your majesty, we have received a letter from Celeane Siloh.” 

Well, what a great introduction to the family. 

...............

Kofi

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this !

[sugar-petals]

SuperM Fluff & NSFW Notes

↳ 🌹aka some of their romantic antics plus random 18+ imagines 👋

warnings ⚠️ rated (super) m, boyfriends hc, porn mentions, partial fem!reader, sex toys

FLUFF

since baekhyun knows how to make scented candles, he creates one for you as a birthday present with your favorite fragrances.

every entry in mark’s diary involves fond thoughts about you.

taemin kisses you more than his cat kkoongie on a daily basis so let that sink in. his smooch obsession is getting out of hand.

lucas, having giant fingers after all, learns how to knit in order to make you a warm scarf. he’s still a bit clumsy with it and had to call kun for advice, but the result is surprisingly proper and quickly becomes your favorite item. it’s a little huge but well, he thinks in his dimensions. lucas’ next project is a beanie.

ten overwhelms you with pet names. in fact, he seemingly seems to come up with a new one each day.

kai is a candlelight dinner, rose petals and music kinda guy. he does every old-school thing in the book.

taeyong can cuddle endlessly in bed. he just doesn’t wanna leave.

lucas gladly shares his sweaters. they’re ginormous so, perfect cuddle material.

baekhyun is already a fool. so — when he falls in love, he becomes an even bigger fool. or, the contrary happens: he becomes dead silent around his partner because he’s so enthralled. he can take this more seriously than you think.

mark likes to write little cards and many many texts to express his love.

lucas is the type who can help you put on your jeans when they were shrinking a bit too much in the dryer. he’s pretty sexy like that and things can get really touchy.

cheesy fucking kai, and there’s only one guy who would do this, has actually lowered himself over a puddle once so you would have a bridge. brushed it off like a daily workout rep.

not one shower missed without baekhyun joining you. yes, it’s not always sexy time, he likes it when you shampoo his hair and whisper sweet nothings. and obviously: it’ll all devolve to a laughing fit.

taeyong is the type who wants to be proposed to.

taemin will get a motorcycle license and take you for a frequent ride. he loves getting those kind of back hugs.

both ten and lucas are great at making bracelets. wayv’s dorm is fully equipped with charms, strings, and pearls, so expect matching ones for you.

we’ve seen it, that one’s his favorite move. kai wraps his hand around your shoulder when you walk together.

mark will ALWAYS share his melon.

making you swoon on a DVD evening is lucas’ favorite hobby. he will buy you the most sugary-sweet romance movies. he will often browse streaming sites to select the latest sentimental plots. all these dramas seem to have a male lead who is suspiciously tall and lanky.

if you allow him, taeyong customizes your white tees with his cute drawings.

since taemin swims in money thanks to his profession as the god of kpop (yes, this is a registered job name because i say so), he can fulfill you any wish. he’s stingy and pouty when the shinee hyungs can pay, and the motherfucker baekhyun is even richer since his albums have been taking off so he opens his mochi wallet when superm is gathered, but you... are a different case. taemin will humbly empty his entire pockets when he overhears you gushing over something. there’s a voice in his mind going: must splurge!!

mark loves christmas, you establish an annual tradition to stage a whole couple evening.

baekhyun likes to play charades and especially do karaoke with you. he’s always cutely wiggling his butt and dances like a drunk uncle. he hits the high notes anyway and makes sure you score 100 points.

taeyong can make out with you while at the same time making sure that the milk doesn’t get burned on the stove. kiss’n’stirr multitask tyong alert. gotta make sure the cocoa is served in time, you know.

all the members enjoy playing board games. yep, imagine the fun and sheer chaos.

lucas has the funniest laugh ever indeed. he’ll react to all your jokes, no matter how lame they might be. intensely reassuring.

taemin’s hand is basically glued to yours.

taeyong and mark are the kinds of boyfriends that spoil their partner with skincare. fancy a nice face massage with a nice fragrant oil?

baekhyun has been baking heart-shaped pizzas ever since you started dating. he just can’t make them round anymore.

mark will join you on anything you’re currently bingewatching. 

kai sometimes — only half-jokingly — goes down on both knees bowing forward with his hands on the ground just to show how much he wants to thank you. in case you didn’t notice: this guy treats you like a deity.

ten usually gets confused glances from the other members whenever he gets the current date wrong: he simply loses track of time with you.

lucas makes a habit of buying you flowers every other week. but on unpredictable occasions, and he arranges them in places you’d never expect.

taemin will build you a weird-looking snowman to make you laugh, and give it an even stranger name. ten will build one that looks like you. kai doesn’t build snowmen, he just stands there challenging you to throw snow balls at him.

mark will hang out with you at the beach constantly bringing his guitar. he’ll serenade you all the time.

returning from three months of touring, baekhyun has once climbed your balcony when your parents were in the other room. yep, he was that desperate to see you. somebody give this man a rope and helmet.

taeyong writes down heartfelt confessions on 365 folded slips of paper so you can open one every day. your reactions will range from ‘awwh!’ to straight-up tears.

ten does regular couple yoga with you. a mildly challenging form, not the circus acrobat version. he’ll do the difficult parts anyway. you can pretzel this guy up, he’ll do anything to make you laugh.

when it rains you hook your arm around his, and lucas always holds the umbrella. even the wildest gush of wind can’t make it turn inside out. you arrive home entirely dry. xuxi is so cute, he’s also a great source of cooling shadow in the summer without even trying.

taemin’s skinship overdrive doesn’t stop with endless hand-holding, back hugs and kisses. he wants to lay down in your lap whenever he can. he looks damn pretty with his hair splaying there. if you work on your laptop, you can pretty much count to ten and he’s already nestled there.

kai does pushups with you on his back. it’s a staple. each time he does one, he says ‘i love you’. he increases his count every day.

NSFW

it’s no secret that taeyong is great at acting or pulling off any outfit and costume. expect roleplay of the finest kind — literally. he looks good in a firefighter uniform. you’ll be burning up pretty much automatically.

taemin can’t keep his tongue in. it’s terrible. he’s always in the mood for head. his sloppy noises are the absolute worst, it turns you on way too fast.

lucas had some major problems finding condoms that fit him.

ten and taemin are so switchy, they have an unresolved power struggle going on. begs for a dominant third party to help them out.

kai owns expensive latex gear.

baekhyun may be the king of vocals and breath technique, but if you push him far enough he does get hoarse.

taemin often jokes how kai will one day break his dick from fucking too hard.

meanwhile, mark’s dick is already falling off – from fucking too often. this guy has some major hormones going for him. no surprise, a guy who can promote in four kpop groups at the same time is a stamina king.

taeyong likes eating pussy with another party involved. three’s a crowd my friend. sometimes it’s taemin who unleashes his spit waterfall power, sometimes it’s baekhyun who preoccupies himself with nibbling at the inner thigh while taeyong digs in.

taemin owns the most underwear.

mark takes valerian drops because he is so nervous in bed. it never really goes away, it’s his nature.

taeyong keeps a lube collection. a different flavor for all occasions. he likes associating certain scents with specific body parts.

kai has a heels kink. he literally goes wild over it.

taemin likes to have sex with favorite glasses on.

taeyong and kai are the most likely to cry during sex. baekhyun as well if you rough him up enough. 

mark gets rock hard the fastest, followed by kai. he’s a grower.

taeyong gets the best inspiration for a song when he gets a casual dick riding.

taemin watches extremely x-rated erotic thrillers and bdsm flicks that are heavy on the plot. he gets more invested in the characters and actors than you think. since his japanese is amazing? of course he also owns a giant 90s hentai collection. 

when he’s jerking off, baekhyun chokes himself. a) because he’d make too much noise otherwise and b) because asphyxiation is his favorite thing.

kai feels pleasure in his every cell. he cums the hardest. and, as you can expect, his body expresses it the most extremely, accurately, passionately. if you’ve seen it even once, you’ll never look at him the same again.

taemin has less experience than his discography claims, but more than you’d think. he researches sexual techniques as well. you can brace yourself.

mark has not just a tiger inside, but a freak inside, waiting to be unleashed.

sex while gaming is a go-to activity for baekhyun.

lucas has the best stamina when it comes to getting head.

taemin throws his head back during sex. and no, he doesn’t T-pose. i’m kidding — of course he does. but only when he’s on his back.

taeyong tends to grip a pillow when he cums.

or he humps one when he’s by himself.

ten has the best taste in sexy time playlists.

baekhyun has the best taste in singing his own playlist along.

oh, the things kai has bought at a gas station at 3AM.

baekhyun sucks strap the best. he can open his mouth the widest, drools a lot, and makes the best noises unsurprisingly.

how to turn on lee taemin? he likes getting slapped.

since he’s the most avid and most diverse eater, lucas’ sperm tastes the best. he’s shove 50 fruits into his system just to give you a sweet experience.

mark is absolutely a starfish. 

kai wears fishnet tops if you fancy it.

curiously, baekhyun out of all people doesn’t announce when he’s cumming. you’ll hear it, though.

taeyong’s dildo collection is one for the books.

taemin has visited a pro dominatrix a couple times. needless to say, he was the #1 favorite client at the dungeon. having fully submerged into a fantasy world, taemin was one whip crack away from falling in love with the mistress. but then covid happened and the venue closed.

mark’s dick looks really pretty.

taemin can grind on the strap at every humanly possible angle. he’s almost always ready to take it. he carries a prep kit.

kai — that fucker — knows how to make you wet the most with his bare hands. prepare for the thigh ride of your life, too.

taeyong, baekhyun, and taemin have the best arches. kai is coming for the top three as well. ten’s arch is so good, it can’t be considered one anymore.

baekhyun knows every adult movie out there. theoretically, nothing can shock him. in reality, he melts in your hands.

taeyong is so sexually active with you, he has quit eating garlic.

kai will exploit your muscle kink in any way he can.

taemin, being a devil, has that one button on his phone that he can press when you go out for dinner. he’s OBSESSED with getting you off. once you head home, it’s basically running down your thighs.

ten has once opened a condom with scissors to scare away a date that grew weird on him by the time it got to the do.

lucas is too tall for doing missionary normally.

this will surprise nobody: mark is great at constantly keeping up the dirty talk.

baekhyun’s car is sort of like a brothel on wheels. he can’t count how many times he got down and dirty in there. he cleans it all up by himself.

kai can technically grip you the hardest but he’s the gentlest and great at caressing the whole body.

taemin has the easiest time saying what precisely he wants. he is also the best people reader — most your wishes he can pretty intuit. taemin observes your interests well.

ten likes his hair pulled and makes angelic noises when you do so.

baekhyun likes camgirls and erotic chats with strangers online. he spends a lot of money for nsfw internet encounters.