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auraisereigh · 23 days ago

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"Feather"

Oneshot

Xaden Riorson x Scribe reader Request: Hi!! I'm dying for some Xaden X scribe reader fics 😭 anything you want. but preferably ones that will give me a cavity from how sweet and fluffy they are. wc: 5.7 ☆ no direct spoilers. i hope it's fluffy enough for you, i wrote it during my free time at my intern and i swear they gave me a headache, there is one woman so freaking mean to me :/ Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Feather as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names. (New girl for a story?)

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

A Featherly Request:

Being a scribe had its perks. The archives were quiet, I didn’t have to talk to many people, and there were enough books to keep me busy.

Today, I was on duty to assist cadets from other quadrants in case they needed anything.

It was a surprisingly quiet day, considering it was Saturday. Usually, it was much busier.

I was skimming through one of the older books when a tall shadow appeared in my vision. I didn’t have to look up to know it was Xaden Riorson.

The tall, shadowy figure—handsome, as always—stopped in front of my desk.

Over the last few weeks, he’d been coming in more often. Asking for books that I’m sure of he didn’t need.

I stood up from my chair, inclining my head in a small bow. His lips quirked upward at the gesture. Every time he did that, my heart raced a little faster.

"How can I help you?" I signed fluidly. I knew he understood sign language, and that he was capable of signing himself, but he rarely spoke. That deep, rumbling voice always made me feel fuzzy inside.

"Just a few books," he said, handing me a paper. Our hands brushed for a fraction of a second, and my heart leaped. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I scanned the list.

"Take your time, Feather," he said, using the nickname he’d given me—one that referenced a feathered quill.

I hurried down the aisles, searching for the books. They were easy to find, mostly study materials used by scribes, and they were all in the same aisle.

Not even ten minutes later, I returned with the requested books. Quietly, I handed them over to Xaden. He took them with ease.

"Amazing job, Feather," he said again, the nickname rolling off his tongue. The heat from my earlier blush crept up once more.

"No need to be flustered," he mused. "Though, I have to admit, those flushed cheeks suit you."

My heart skipped a beat, and I was sure it was racing now.

With a small smile, he walked away, leaving me breathless and flustered.

♡

A book date

It took Xaden weeks to convince me to go out with him. I preferred staying inside.

Every time he returned books to Basgiath, I would put them away and find little notes tucked inside—his handwriting surprisingly neat—asking if I’d like to go out with him. For weeks and weeks, I ignored them. Until finally… I said yes. Well, I signed it.

Which brings us to the here and now.

Xaden had originally suggested a lake. Though the idea was tempting, it felt too intimate for a first date. Instead, I suggested a library. Despite the fact that I already spent most of my time in one, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, when I made the suggestion, the grin he gave me told me he was already scheming.

We walked through the cobbled streets of Aretia, a stark contrast to Basgiath. The people here were friendly, warm, the town itself bursting with life. He walked close beside me, but not too close—just enough for me to be aware of his presence.

I was taken aback when we stopped in front of a small but cozy-looking building. The window display was decorated with books on nearly every subject imaginable—fantasy, romance, knowledge, history, and more.

He held the door open for me. A real gentleman.

I stepped inside, the scent of parchment and ink wrapping around me like a warm embrace. The store was small but packed with books, filling every possible space. Near the cashier, I spotted a set of colorful bookmarks. I had to refrain from showing too much excitement.

I scoured the shelves, moving from genre to genre, until I found a book about two soulmates—one cursed to kill the other in every lifetime they met. The female spent lifetime after lifetime trying to break the curse, until finally, she succeeded.

The cover was a soft pink, a gold-foiled heart pierced by an arrow.

A shadow loomed over my shoulder, and I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

"So you like fairy tales?" Xaden mused.

"Only the ones with a happy ending," I replied, my voice soft.

I could feel the warmth of him behind me.

He chuckled, plucking the book gently from my grasp. When I looked up, I caught the rarest thing of all—a small, genuine smile.

"Wait outside," he said, a little too casually.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why?"

"Go." He nudged me toward the door, barely restraining a smirk.

Suspicious, but relenting, I stepped outside into the cool evening air.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bookstore, carrying a small bag with the shop’s logo—a quill wrapped around a scroll.

He handed it to me, looking almost… shy. Something you never saw on Xaden Riorson.

I peeked inside and felt my breath hitch.

Two books.

The fairytale novel I had picked out… and another one, a poetry collection. The cover featured two foxes curled up together. Inside was a matching bookmark, decorated with the same foxes.

I looked up at him, a genuine smile breaking across my face.

"Thank you, Xay," I said softly, looking him straight in the eye.

His lips curled into a slow smile. "I’m glad you like them," he murmured.

Then, with a gentle touch, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered, brushing against my cheek, sending warmth all the way down to my toes.

♡

Stuck in history

I had read the same sentence at least ten times.

The history tome I was studying was one of many in Aretia, part of my personal goal to read all of them—to learn, to help the revolution. The problem? Some of these books were centuries old, written in language so dead, it was like deciphering a code.

The sound of a door opening pulled me from my thoughts.

Steam drifted into the room as Xaden stepped out of the bathroom, his hair damp, a towel slung around his neck.

"You're still reading that?" he asked, moving toward where I was sprawled upside down on his bed—his very soft, very silky bed.

"Some people just write in codes," I mumbled, barely stifling a yawn.

Xaden sighed as he gathered the scattered books, stacking them neatly on his desk.

"Maybe they only look like a dead language because you've been at it all day," he countered.

I waved him off, flipping back to the page I was struggling with. "I’m almost through this. If you let me read in peace, I’ll be done faster."

He huffed, clearly unconvinced.

Then, before I could react, he plucked the book right out of my hands.

"Wait—!"

Too late. He had already moved to his desk, slipping one of his daggers between the pages I had been reading to mark my spot.

Then, he turned back toward me.

I blinked up at him, still upside down.

"You’re done," he said firmly.

I sighed dramatically, but before I could argue, he sat on the bed beside me. My head was practically resting against his legs.

His hand reached out, tracing his fingers gently along my cheek.

"Get some rest," he murmured. "I don’t have patrol tomorrow."

The words softened something in my chest.

I adjusted my position, curling up more comfortably on the bed.

Xaden leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.

I felt my eyes grow heavy. Sleep pulled at me.

Somewhere in the haze of near-sleep, I felt the weight of a thick blanket being draped over me. The fabric was soft, warm against my skin.

The bed dipped beside me.

I cracked my eyes open just slightly.

Xaden had settled in next to me, lying on his stomach, an arm tucked under his pillow. His other arm reached out, pulling me in close.

The warmth of him wrapped around me like a cocoon.

"Goodnight, Xay," I whispered into the quiet night.

"Goodnight, Feather," he murmured back.

Sleep claimed us both, the night bringing the kind of peace we rarely got to have.

♡

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darlinluxx · 6 days ago

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— 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ౨ৎ

↳ pairing : natalie scatorccio x feminine!fem!reader

fluff

warnings : alcohol, smoking, reader is a cheerleader, mentions of bad home life

a/n : i’m such a sucker for the opposites attract trope 😭

- Nat has a tough exterior, but a big heart.

-Nat appears as cynical and hardened, but you know there’s a well of loyalty and vulnerability underneath. it takes a lot of patience (and maybe a few beers) to crack the surface

- she bristles at being told what to do or how to feel. gift her a beautifully planned, romantic day? she’s suspicious. take her to a shitty bar late at night? she’s putty in your hands

- Nat notices everything, even when she seems completely checked out. she remembers small details you’ve mentioned in passing and brings them up weeks later

- she’s fiercely loyal to those she cares about. if anyone even looks at you wrong, Nat’s ready to fight someone

- everyone, especially your friends, was surprised when you started dating Nat. you’re so different, it shouldn’t work but it does

- dinner reservations? your domain. impromptu road trip to a questionable music festival? that’s Nat’s idea. compromise is key

- you help ground Nat and bring some stability to her chaotic world. she pushes you outside of your comfort zone and shows you a different side of life

- let’s just say Nat isn’t the best at expressing her feelings. you’ve learned to read between the lines, but sometimes it’s exhausting

- she is a softie when it comes to you, she would never admit it, but she would do anything for you

- you met Nat at a party you were throwing. she looked completely out of place, like a stray cat at a dog show

- you were drawn to her immediately. everyone else was bubbly and full of energy, and she was the exact opposite. that’s what drew you in. plus, that little smirk she wore was incredibly intriguing

- you offered her a drink, a beer you stole from your older sibling’s stash. she raised an eyebrow, took it, and downed half of it in one go. you were hooked

- you’re all about pastel colors, perfect nails, perfect makeup and hair, and cheerleading practice. Nat wears ripped jeans, leather jackets, and spent her afternoons skipping class to hang out behind the school smoking cigarettes

- your friends did not understand. “why her?” they’d ask, with a mix of genuine curiosity and thinly veiled judgment. you just shrugged. you couldn’t explain it

- you were one of the few people who saw past Nat’s tough exterior. you knew she’s incredibly intelligent, fiercely loyal, and surprisingly sensitive

- you learn that her sarcasm was often a defense mechanism, a way to keep people at arm’s length. you worked to earn her trust, brick by brick

- it wasn’t always easy. there were walls, secrets, and unpredictable mood swings. but the glimpse of vulnerability you caught made it all worthwhile

- small gestures were huge with Nat. she wasn’t big on grand romantic declarations, but she leaves you mixtapes with your favorite songs on it, or silently hold your hand when you’re feeling down

- she probably writes you poetry, but it’s all hidden in a dusty old notebook

- like i said, she’s soo protective. guys who try to flirt with you suddenly found themselves on the receiving end of Nat’s icy glare and a string of creatively crafted insults

- she gets you your favorite flowers

- public displays of affection are rare, but when they happened, they were electric. a stolen kiss in a crowded hallway of your school, her hand grazing your back as you walked by

- you know about Nat’s turbulent home life—the absent parents, the general instability. you know she had to be so independent because she has no one else

- you’re a safe place for her. a place where she doesn’t have to be tough, where she can let her guard down, even just for a little bit. your parents occasionally take her in for the night, offering her a hot meal and a warm bed

- you know you can’t fix her problems. but you can be there for her, to listen, to support her, and to remind her that she isn’t alone

- Nat secretly loves watching you practice for cheer. she tells you to pick a sport that was less girly. you think it was funny that she was acting annoyed

- you know she’s good at soccer, amazing even. she’s quiet about it, but she has that look of determination and a competitive drive she tries to hide

- you go to every one of her games, cheering her on from the sidelines. omg wearing her jersey……….

- she pretended to be annoyed when she first saw you wearing her jersey, but you caught her smiling

#natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets

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fatkish · 8 months ago

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Aisles and Class 1A x Fem Quirkless reader platonic hcs who’s cold, reserved, but still polite and nice to others. She’s a strict badass who’s also street smart and masters a bunch of weapons like throwing knives, guns, pole arms, etc, to replace her lack of a Quirk. One of the top students as well as the scariest girl in class as she gives it her all in class, sending anyone who challenges her to the infirmary anytime they fought her. Unlike Izuku, who at least grew up with a parent’s love, she had nobody and had to survive on the streets and illegal underground rings, earning many nasty scars that she hides behind her bandages and clothing which she always covers up with stuff like scarfs, gloves, even if it’s super hot out. She craves any love but backs down due to heavy discrimination, bullying, etc. hcs?

(So I’m gonna assume that Aisles is Aizawa because I don’t recall a character with that name. Also I’m gonna make the reader similar to Illumi Zoldyck from HxH)

Aizawa & Class 1A x Quirkless Reader

Growing up in the underground was harsh and brutal. In order to survive you had to be willing to do whatever it took

Whether it was stealing food, or fighting, you did anything that could increase the chances of your survival

Living on the streets, you grew up facing villains and thugs in the alleys, they would see you as an easy target so you had to learn to protect yourself

After years of fighting and being subjected to multiple quirks, you’ve built up a high resistance to physical pain. Not that you can’t feel pain, you just tolerate more of it better than others

You’ve learned various techniques and skills when it comes to fighting but you’re not just skilled with combat

Having no parents, you had to learn to cook for yourself and became somewhat skilled in the culinary arts

In order to make up for not having a quirk, you learned to wield every possible weapon and mastered the use of each

And in order to have money, you fought in illegal and legal underground fighting rings. These fights landed you plenty of scars to the point that you’re covered in them

You wear bandages and long clothing to hide the scars, however your choice of style can make you look suspicious

Due to growing up the way you did, you developed a rather cold and reserved personality but you maintained your manners and are very polite

You don’t really show a lot of emotion which can make people uncomfortable being around you, but you don’t really care

Originally, you weren’t going to go to highschool but you came across Aizawa one night when you were cornered by some thugs. He was about to step in when you seemingly appeared behind the thugs, then they all fell down unconscious. Aizawa thought you used a teleportation quirk. He understood that you were essentially homeless and had no family so he offered for you to stay with him for the night

As he began to understand your predicament, he was amazed at how quickly you picked up on things. You were incredibly smart and observant but that’s probably due to having lived on the streets

When Aizawa learned that you didn’t have a quirk he originally didn’t believe you. But after testing his quirk on you, he realized you were telling the truth

Aizawa actually gave you a recommendation to UA since he deeply believes that you would make a good hero

When you took the recommendation exam, you met Inasa who surprisingly quickly managed to worm his way past your walls and became your friend during the exam

After having passed the exam with flying colors you were given Inasa’s phone number since he learned you didn’t have a phone

Aizawa had later that day, bought you a phone for you to connect with the friends you would hopefully make

When school came around, Inasa had been coaching you on how to make friends, despite your cold personality you managed to befriend Izuku on the first day (more like he just didn’t have the balls to tell you you were scary)

You saw how Bakugou treated Izuku and you didn’t like how scared Izuku was so you decided to make an example out of Bakugou

During All Mights hero class, you were paired with Izuku and Uraraka. You followed Izuku and protected him from Bakugou. When Bakugou ignored All Might and used his stored up sweat, you decided that you had enough. You quickly went behind Bakugou and started to let loose on him, in the end, you accidentally sent him to recovery girl’s office since you didn’t know how to hold back

When Izuku saw this, he realized you weren’t that scary and you’re just not that good with social situations, he then took it upon himself to make you apart of the Dekusquad and you decided to keep hanging around him

Shoto and Momo have become some of your closer friends. Momo takes you shopping and loves to dress you up

Mineta, Koda and Aoyama are terrified of you. The girls all love that Mineta is too afraid to perv on you, so they use you as a shield to ward off Mineta

Kirishima and Ojiro are constantly asking you to spar with them as well as Bakugou. They don’t care that you can’t hold back most of your strength, the don’t care that sparring with you is a one way ticket to Recovery Girl, they admire your strength and they want to get stronger

When you’re relaxing, Shoto likes to hang around you since you both have the same cluelessness in the sense of social interactions

Although you have a hard time initiating affection, Aizawa makes sure you receive plenty of it whether it’s just a simple head pat or a small hug. Aizawa and Midoriya help you with learning how to express yourself since you’ve closed yourself off as a means to protect yourself

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa sensei #platonic class 1a #class 1a x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoria x reader

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teamatsumu · 1 year ago

Text

exclusive. (gojo satoru x reader)

summary: A series of moments with Gojo Satoru, leading to the moment you realize you’re in love with him.

word count: 2,223

warnings: swearing, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), jujutsu high shenanigans, this is pretty harmless fluff

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

Anyone who met Gojo Satoru for the first time had a visceral reaction to him.

Either they found him loud, obnoxious and annoying (both Shoko and Suguru described that as their first impressions of him), or they were starstruck by him. After all, he was Gojo Satoru. The wielder of the most powerful cursed technique in the Jujutsu world at present. The brilliant Six Eyes. And even at such a young age he showed potential that made the higher ups nervous.

And he was easy on the eyes too. Tall, lean, porcelain pale skin, hair like snow and eyes brighter than the blue skies. It was in the way he carried himself, shoulders set back, chin held high, imposing and demanding that all eyes met him. Girls were endlessly obsessed with him, with the idea of him. And he ate that shit up.

You however, would argue that you didn’t have any impression of him at all. He was just there. Okay, that was Gojo Satoru. Cool. Time to just shrug and walk away. He wasn’t exactly someone you had to interact with daily. He was a year older, in a different class. He had friends of his own. And he was quite literally famous. Why would he bother with you?

What you didn’t know about Gojo Satoru was that he didn’t need any reason to be obnoxious. He just was. Seeing someone indifferent to his existence lit a fire in him, and he was adamant on making sure you noticed him. One way or the other.

“So it doesn’t matter to you if I’m cursing you out? As long as I’m paying attention to you?”

You eyed him, watching as he leaned back on the two back legs of the chair he was sitting in until it teetered dangerously. The action kind of put you on edge but you would be damned if you let him know that it bothered you. Mostly because if he knew then he would never stop doing it.

He snapped his fingers and grinned in the affirmative.

“All press is good press.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, it sounds cool.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your textbook. A bout of silence fell on you for a few brief moments, before Satoru felt the urge to ruin it again.

“You’re not gonna fail.”

You didn’t look up. “Thanks?”

“So stop studying.”

You sighed, still not looking at him. You flipped a page. A hand grabbed at your open book, shutting it with a soft thud. You finally turned to glare at the boy. Over the curve of his shades, his eyes were as blue as ever. He grinned wide.

“There she is. Hey, pretty girl.”

Another thing about him, he flirted endlessly.

Your scowl deepened, trying to will away the heat that rushed to your ears. It was annoying, almost frustrating, how easy he thought it was to get under your skin. Saying shit like this as if it didn’t mean anything. Casual. Unserious.

Your train of thought broke when he reached forward and pinched your cheek hard. You yelped and pushed him hand away, wrestling against his strength when he tried to twist closer to you. By the time Suguru and Kento walked into the classroom, he had you pinned on the desk and was messing your hair up the best he could while you called him every colorful name you could think of.

Suguru didn’t bat an eye. Kento just sighed. This was, unfortunately, normal.

You, of course, didn’t fail your exam. Surprisingly, neither did Satoru, even though you had not seen him open a book once. Practical application was one thing (Satoru excelled in that of course), but how did he manage to get the theory right? He had spent every minute of his prep days either bothering you in person, sending you endless text messages, or lounging around in your room and watching TV. The fact that he passed and was now a third year was more surprising to you than the fact that you passed. At least you studied for it.

“You just wanted me to fail so I would be held back for the year and we could be classmates.” Satoru grinned, peeling open a packet of those overly sweet jellies he loved eating. You snorted, turning over in your bed and pulling your sheets up higher. It was nearly 10 in the morning, and Satoru had woken you up with the news that results were out and both of you had passed. Your body was still sluggish, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and residual sleep.

“Is that your breakfast?” You watched him lean back and shake the entire bag of jellies straight into his mouth from above. Your face twisted in disgust.

“Yup. Gotta start the day right.”

You didn’t bother to argue, shoving your face into the pillow and hoping it would suffocate you to death. You heard shuffling and then felt the mattress dip, grunting when you felt something heavy fall over your back.

“So what do you wanna do today?”

You let out a pained sigh, not bothering to turn and look at him, or his legs that were likely draped over you.

“I was planning to sleep in but I guess I can’t do that anymore.” Your tone was dry.

“Damn right. Let's go to the city.”

“Can’t you go bother Getou-san?”

“He isn’t as fun.”

You turned your head to look at him, just in time to see him pull apart a chocolate bar. Your eyes widened in horror.

“No!” You shoved him hard and he toppled off the bed with a loud ‘oof’, until all you could see was his legs hanging in the air.

“What the fuck?” His tone was more baffled than it was pained. You saw his messy head of hair pop up over the edge of the bed, his eyes wide, glasses nowhere to be seen.

“You’ll get chocolate on my sheets!”

“So you pushed me off?” Before he could pull himself back up, you rushed forward, trying to keep him down, slipping off the edge and falling right on top of him. You grabbed the hand with the chocolate, prying it from his fingers. You placed it carefully on your side table, finally sighing and leaning back, looking down at the boy before you. Or more accurately, under you.

Satoru was wearing a huge, toothy grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows. He seemed to have completely forgotten his chocolate. His hands rested on your bare thighs, fingers just shy of the hem of your shorts.

“You know what, you can keep the chocolate. I’m fine right here.”

You glared at him, standing up to walk away, but not before you dug a foot into his stomach. Satoru groaned, but still grinned, grabbing your ankle.

“You should just let things happen, baby. We’d be great together, you know?”

You didn’t let his words get to you, nor did you let your mind dwell on how soft his fingers felt around your ankle, or how his hands had felt on the bare skin of your thighs. You couldn’t think about it, because nothing Satoru did was real. He was just playing. He was a good friend who tried annoying you as much as possible. That’s it.

It didn’t matter that he whined your name whenever you ignored him, or how he would wrap his arms around you until you were curled under him, or how he would pin your arms down so you wouldn’t struggle when he laid sloppy, obnoxious kisses on your cheeks and forehead. Your couch was his permanent bed, and he claimed he was there because your TV was bigger than his. You couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just buy a TV for his room. He was loaded.

You don’t know at what point everyone started assuming you were dating, but when Shoko vocalized this perception, you felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you.

“We are not dating. What the fuck? I can barely stand him.”

You ignored the petulant ‘hey’ that left his lips, focused on your upperclassman across the table from you. Shoko was blank-faced, giving you a look that said ‘really?’. You didn’t back down.

“We aren’t! We’re good friends, yes, but-”

A snort from beside you, and finally you turned your head to glare at him. Satoru’s lips were twisted into an amused smirk, and the sight of it annoyed you. You felt like everyone at the table- Shoko, Suguru, Kento, Haibara- were laughing at you. Your face burned in embarrassment, so you lashed out at the one man who always bore the brunt of it.

“Why are you smirking? Wipe that off your face.”

He shrugged, ignoring what you said. “I just think it’s funny that you think we aren’t dating.”

“We’re not.”

“Sure.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “We’re not! What the fuck are you on? We’ve never even kissed!”

Just talking about this was making you squirm uncomfortably, let alone in front of all your friends.

“You were practically in my lap in the car on our way here.”

You smacked his bicep hard. “There were six of us! And it was a tight fit! And- you offered!”

He was grinning by now, leaning closer to you. “Of course I did. We’re dating.”

You blinked, shocked into silence. A few moments passed. “This is gaslighting. You’re gaslighting me.”

You heard a snort and turned your head towards Haibara, who tried to disguise it as a cough.

“Okay, if we’re not dating, explain this to me,” Satoru began, pulling your attention back to him. You tried to will your heart into beating slower.

“Would you have put your legs in Suguru’s lap?”

You sputtered, feeling your face burn as you glanced at the man in question, he looked unbothered.

“No! That’s- no.”

“Nanami? Haibara?”

You didn’t answer.

“Shoko?”

“She’s my senpai.”

“I’m your senpai too.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sure don’t act like it.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Satoru continued, ignoring your quip. His voice was jovial, slightly teasing, and you dreaded where he was going with this. “There’s some stuff you would do only with me?”

You glared at him.

“Almost like…… being exclusive?”

“We are not dating.” Your argument was beginning to sound weaker and weaker. Everyone around you was staring at you with amusement as the gears turned at your head.

“Okay.” Satoru smiled, and you almost reeled back at how soft it was.

“We’re not.”

Oh my god.

……………………..

It took three or four days later to finally get your thoughts straight enough to talk to Satoru about the….. dating incident.

You had been over analyzing everything, trying to look at every interaction between you and him from a third person’s perspective, and you realized how abnormal it really was. No normal friends interacted the way you and Satoru did. Relentless teasing, touching, hugging. The unending push and tug. Caught in the whirlwind that was Gojo Satoru, you had not noticed how close you were to him, and how dependent you were on his presence.

Maybe he was right. In some strange way, you two were a couple.

You sat with this newfound information, feeling it burn and chip away at your skin, leaving you raw and vulnerable. How were you supposed to bring this up with him? You watched the figures on the TV before you bound around, not absorbing anything that was being said, your attention only on the slowly simmering pot of water that was your brain and your thoughts. When your door swung open with a loud squeak, you finally looked up.

Satoru was humming something to himself as he lumbered in, spotting you on the couch and grinning.

“Hey, what are your dinner plans? I'm craving Korean barbecue.”

You stared at him for a bit, as he toed his shoes off and tried to struggle out of his uniform jacket. It settled in you like a soft cloud, the knowledge that there was nothing to talk about. Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood up.

“I’m going to change.” Your voice was low.

Satoru looked up, lips pursed into a confused pout that you almost thought was cute. “Why? You look great.”

You muscled past the compliment, not letting it get to you. “I’m going to put on a nice outfit. And do my hair. And you’re going to go change too. Dress fancy. It’s a date.”

Satoru watched you, mouth open like a goldfish, as you puttered through the room and to your closet. He was frozen, dumbfounded. It was a new look on him. And you discovered that you liked it very much. You feigned innocence as you turned to look back at him.

“What’s wrong? I thought we were dating?”

That seemed to break his trance, and a cheshire grin took over his face. He didn’t even bother putting his shoes back on, gathering them in his hands and bounding out the door, making you laugh at how eager he was.

Talking was overrated anyway. This way was more fun.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 2 months ago

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𓅨 How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: Chapter Three

How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: After saving a strange man from a fishbowl cage, you earn yourself a favor. When you cash in said favor, you don’t realize that you and the man aren’t on the same page on what you need from him.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus x Afab!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

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"You really walk around the waking world?" you ask, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

"I have," he tells you. "It's... enlightening to see things from a mortal perspective."

Your eyebrows draw together as you think about Morpheus among mortals. Does he not stand out like a sore thumb? "What's that like for you? To be in the waking world then?”

Morpheus pauses, a flicker of storm crossing his face. "Disorienting at times. Your world is much more... concrete."

"Well, it's not always great, but it's home." You echo, thinking about how Morpheus appears to be more than happy to listen to you blab away. He's surprisingly easy to talk to when he lets his guard down.

"I admire your resilience," he says quietly.

You shrug. "You have to be tough when life keeps throwing curveballs. Especially one known as my mother."

His gaze lingers on you and there's warmth there that wasn't present before. It seems he's not just observing anymore, he's genuinely interested in your experiences.

"You are kind," he remarks, almost to himself. "It is... refreshing." Just as Morpheus begins to speak again, the flutter of wings catches your attention. Matthew, the raven, swoops in and lands on the back of an empty chair, ruffling his feathers.

"Hey, sorry to barge in," Matthew caws, glancing between you and Morpheus. "Got something to share."

Morpheus's eyes narrow, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "What is it, Matthew?"

"Matthew! Perfect timing! Got any new places to show me?"

The raven's beady eyes sparkle with mischief. "Actually, I do. Found a dreamscape that's pretty fascinating. Thought you might like to see it."

You lean forward eagerly. “Spill!”

Matthew hops from the chair to the table, preening slightly. "It's a place where dreams and reality blur together. Think of it like a lucid dream but on steroids. Like you don’t even need to be doped up on meth!”

Morpheus sighs, his irritation clear on his face. "Matthew, we were in the middle of—"

"Sounds amazing!" you interrupt, eyes bright with excitement as you turn to Morpheus. "Can we go now?"

Morpheus' gaze softens slightly as he looks at you, his annoyance fading. You look so eager and happy… "If that is your wish."

You nod enthusiastically, turning back to Matthew. "Lead the way!"

The raven takes off again, flying towards an open doorway that wasn't there moments ago. You rise from your seat without hesitation, ready to see exactly what was so exciting. Morpheus follows with a glower on his face.

Matthew leads you through the doorway, and you step into a realm where the sky shifts colors with each breath you take. Vibrant greens melt into deep blues, which swirl into passionate reds. It's as if the very air is alive, humming with an energy that tickles your skin.

"This is incredible," you whisper, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Matthew crows, puffing up with pride. "Found it while exploring some of the more uncharted territories. You will not believe what this place has!”

You glance back at Morpheus. He's standing there, arms crossed, his usual composed demeanor marred by a scowl. You can't help but chuckle. Frowny face. You wonder what has him so agitated? Is Matthew not his raven?

"Don't be such a sourpuss," you tease him. "This place is amazing."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn't respond. Instead, he watches you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. Ah, shit, bad Y/N, bad. No developing feelings for the incredibly handsome Endless being that isn't really your husband.

You focus on Matthew again, eager to explore more to distract you from Mr. Hot and Pouty. "Show me around!"

Matthew takes flight, leading you through a forest where trees physically talk to you and flowers bloom in patterns that just shouldn’t exist in nature. The ground beneath your feet feels like velvet, and the scent of fresh rain hangs in the air despite no clouds overhead. So much mind fuckery but at the same time, this is so amazing.

"Over here," Matthew calls out, landing on a branch that bends gently under his weight. "Check this out."

You approach a clearing where shimmering pools of water reflect not just the sky above but alternate realities. Each pool shows a different scene—a bustling city from another world, an alien landscape, and even a medieval castle with knights and dragons.

"This is... making my brain hurt,” you say while rubbing your forehead. “But also crazy awesome? I dunno what to think at this point.”

Morpheus steps beside you. "These are reflections of dreams yet to be dreamt," he explains to you. “Think of it as art in the process of creation.”

You reach out to touch the surface of one pool, watching ripples distort the images before they settle back into clarity. “That makes sense,” you muse. “Dreams are an endless possibility. Seeing them as art makes a lot of sense given our brains cook them up…”

Matthew flaps his wings excitedly. "Exactly! Thought you'd appreciate it! It is wild seeing all these different places but so cool at the same time!”

Morpheus's frown deepens as he watches Matthew bask in your admiration. You notice but choose not to comment on it. He is still a puzzle to you and as far as you are aware, brooding is one of his default modes. Instead of reacting, you turn to Morpheus with a glowing smile.

"Thank you for bringing me here," you say, blasting him with a beautiful smile. "Both of you."

He gives a curt nod but says nothing. Still internally pouting over the fact that his raven had managed to commandeer your attention. Matthew caws happily and takes off again, urging you to follow him to see another ‘really cool thing’.

As you chase after Matthew's fluttering form, Morpheus trails behind like a dark cloud in this otherwise radiant world.

Oh yes, definitely a default brooding setting…

You find yourself in the library of the Dreaming, where the air hums with knowledge you can feel skittering across your skin and the scent of old parchment fills your nose with nostalgia. Lucienneis with you, a warm, welcoming smile on her lips. Compared to the chaotic awesomeness of the rest of the realm, her she feels like the voice of reason.

"So," you begin, leaning against a polished oak table. "Can you tell me more about the history of this place? And about Morpheus?"

Lucienne adjusts her glasses and nods. "Of course. The Dreaming is as old as dreams themselves. It is a reflection of Morpheus's will and emotions, constantly evolving."

You nod, absorbing her words. "And Morpheus? What's he like beyond what I've seen? And what little he's told me… which is pretty much nonexistent. He was more interested in listening to me blab about myself.”

Lucienne's eyes twinkle with a mix of amusement before shifting to fondness. "He is complex, to say the least. A being of immense power and responsibility, but also one burdened by his own flaws."

"Flaws?” You nearly snort out. How does he have flaws? “Like what?"

"He's often perceived as cold and detached," Lucienne explains to you. "But that stems from his deep sense of duty and his very make. He takes his role very seriously, sometimes to the detriment of personal relationships."

You think back to your interactions with him—the moments when he seemed distant, lost in thought. Default brooding session. He was probably made to be that way. "That makes sense," you murmur.

"He has had many lovers over the eons, but his relationships often end in heartbreak. His passion can be overwhelming and he struggles with forgiveness when he feels wronged." So he can hold a grudge, good to know for the future… yet at the same time, you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Morpheus. So far, he has seemed like an all powerful, invincible (mostly, you had broken him out of a cage he himself couldn’t get out of) being that is untouchable.

Definitely touchable, his hand is nice to hold.

"So he's not just this all-powerful being... he's vulnerable too." You muse as your mind thinks over Morpheus’ behavior.

"Indeed," Lucienne agrees. "His power comes with its own set of challenges and loneliness. But beneath it all, he has a capacity for kindness and care that few ever see."

Well that is obvious, he agreed to pretend to be your husband without a moment of hesitation! He’s doing a rather thorough job of it as well. Your mind turns back to the Dreaming itself and what exactly Morpheus does.”

"What about his responsibilities here?" you ask.

Lucienne gestures to the rows upon rows of books surrounding you. "He oversees every dream and nightmare, ensuring balance within the Dreaming. It's a monumental task, we hold all written word ever created.”

"And… you help him?" you ask. “Cause he seems to brood a lot and someone has to be working when he’s in default emo brooding mode…”

Lucienne’s eyebrow pops up at your wording and her lips twitch. You appear to take everything you are told in stride and translate it into something you can understand. Good, this is good. Particularly for the Dreaming. "I do what I can to assist him, yes. But ultimately, it is his domain to govern."

You look around at the vast expanse of knowledge contained within these walls and feel a pang of excitement. All written word? You are going to finally get through your reading wish list! Looking back at Lucienne.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," you say sincerely. "It won't help me with my overbearing mother but at least I feel like I understand him better.

"It is my pleasure," Lucienne replies warmly. "Now, is there a book or story you care to enjoy while you are here?"

You scan the shelves of books, almost overwhelmed on where to even start.

"I think I'd like to read about... love," you say, surprising yourself with the choice. "Not the kind that ends in heartbreak. Something with a happy ending.”

Lucienne's smile widens, a knowing glint in her eyes. She moves gracefully along the shelves, her fingers brushing the spines of ancient tomes until she finds what she's looking for. She pulls out a book bound in soft leather and hands it to you.

"This might be what you're seeking," she says.

You take the book from her, feeling its weight in your hands. The cover is embossed with intricate patterns that seem to shift and change as you look at them. You open it carefully and begin to read.

The story unfolds like a dream, drawing you into its world. It speaks of two souls destined to find each other despite the obstacles life throws their way. Each page brings you deeper into their journey, their struggles, and their triumphs. There's a warmth to it, a sense of hope that makes you feel happy.

Lost in the tale, you almost forget where you are until a gentle touch on your shoulder brings you back to reality—or rather, back to the Dreaming.

"You seem engrossed," Morpheus' voice says softly from behind you.

You turn to face him, holding up the book. "It's beautiful," you admit. “Your library is amazing.”

He nods, his eyes lingering on the book before meeting yours. "Stories have power," he says quietly. "They shape our dreams and our realities."

You look back at the book in your hands, understanding his words on a deeper level now. "It's true," you agree.

He steps closer, his presence both comforting and intimidating at once. "Do you wish to stay here longer?" he asks.

You consider his question, feeling torn between exploring more of this incredible realm and returning to your own reality. You do have things to do in your own world. Before you can answer, Lucienne steps forward.

"There's always more to discover here," she says with a smile. "But remember, time flows differently in the Dreaming."

You nod slowly. The allure of this place is strong, but so is your need to balance both worlds—the waking and the dreaming.

So you close the book gently,the lingering emotions of the story still making your heart flutter. Morpheus watches you with a curious intensity, his expression unreadable. You feel a strange connection with him, like you’ve shared something intimate just by being in this place together. And now your inner romance novel is talking.

"I should go," he says abruptly, breaking the moment.

You nod, a little confused. Uh, was it not he that approached you? “Okay, have a good day.”

He gives a slight bow, then turns and walks away, his form blending into the shadows of the library. You watch until he’s out of sight, a part of you wishing he’d stay just a bit longer.

A rustling noise pulls you from your thoughts. Turning around, you see Mervyn Pumpkinhead striding towards you, his pumpkin head bobbing slightly with each step. His carved face grins in its perpetual jack-o'-lantern smile, but his eyes hold a glint of mischief.

"Well, well, if it isn't the new 'Mrs.,'" Mervyn quips, tipping an imaginary hat. "Enjoying your stay in the Dreaming?"

You can't help but laugh at his teasing demeanor. It seems word travels fast in this place. “It's been... eventful," you reply honestly.

Mervyn leans against a nearby bookshelf, crossing his arms. "Eventful? That's one way to put it. Morpheus has that effect on people."

"Does he now?" you ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, absolutely," Mervyn says with a chuckle. "He's got this whole brooding, mysterious vibe going on. Drives some folks nuts trying to figure him out."

You smile, feeling more at ease in Mervyn's presence. "I can see that. I’m calling it his default emo brooding mode.”

Mervyn laughs at your words before straightening up and gesturing towards the library's vast expanse. You can see a few shelves moving in the distance. Yeah, it’s going to take a while to get over it’s awesomeness and size. "So, what brings you to this dusty old place? Looking for some deep cosmic knowledge or just trying to escape reality for a bit?"

"A bit of both," you admit.

Mervyn nods sagely. "Well, you've come to the right place for that. The Dreaming's got more secrets than you can shake a stick at."

You glance around the library once more, marveling at sheer size. You know that it’s much larger than what your eyes can see. "It really is amazing here."

"Yeah, it's not bad," Mervyn says with a shrug. "Keeps me busy anyway."

You tilt your head curiously. "What do you do here exactly?"

"Me? Oh, I’m kind of an all-purpose handyman," he replies with a wink. "Fixing things up when they break down or get all wonky—which happens more often than you'd think."

"Sounds like an interesting job," you say.

"Interesting is one word for it," Mervyn chuckles again. "But hey, it beats sitting around doing nothing. What's next on your agenda? More exploring or heading back to reality?"

You ponder his question for a moment before answering.

"I think... I'd like to explore a bit more," you say finally.

Mervyn nods approvingly. "Good choice."

Date Published: 12/18/24

Last Edit: 12/18/24

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#the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream the endless #sandman x reader #dream the endless x reader #lord morpheus #morpheus #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless

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lh44girl · 2 months ago

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A New Year’s Spark

It was the perfect winter retreat. Lewis had invited a few close friends to his sprawling mountain cabin in Colorado to ring in the New Year. Snow blanketed the ground, the fireplace roared, and the house buzzed with easy laughter and clinking glasses. You felt grateful to be included in his circle, even though being around Lewis always made your heart race a little faster than it should.

He was a friend—a good one at that—but there were moments when his smile lingered a little too long, or when his teasing made your cheeks flush. Tonight, with the cozy atmosphere and the gentle glow of the firelight, those feelings simmered just beneath the surface.

The evening passed in a blur of board games, drinks, and stories, and by the time everyone retreated to their rooms, the cabin was silent except for the soft creak of settling wood. Exhausted, you slipped under the plush duvet, letting the warmth lull you into a deep sleep.

The dream hit you out of nowhere. You were in the kitchen, but it wasn’t like before. Lewis stood close, too close, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His hands brushed your waist, his touch searing. You were raped in his strong arms his lips hovers around your ear “I notice how your body respond around me, you’re captivating” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine

Before you could answer, his lips claimed yours, hot and insistent. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whispered his name— “Lewis…” you moaned his name. You’re body arching towards him as desire overtakes you. As one of his hands trace along the line of your sweet spot, you murmur in your sleep “God, Lewis ..” the words spilling from your lips unbidden.

In the quiet hallway, Lewis Froze, he was passing by to get some water when he heard his name, his eyebrows shot up as he realized the tone was not one of distress. a slow, amused grin spread across his face , while passing by your room.

The next morning, you woke up remarkably well rested,though vaguely aware of a dream that had left you warm and flushed . You stretched lazily walking around to find Lewis in the kitchen brewing coffee. He seemed his usual self—relaxed, charming, and effortlessly cool—but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes whenever he spoke to you.

“Morning” you greeted each other

“Sleep well ?” he asked casually over breakfast, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug.

“Yeah, surprisingly well ,” you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze.

He smirked. “Good to know. You seemed… pretty comfortable last night.”

Your spoon clattered into your bowl. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged, his expression innocent. “Nothing. Just saying you were… vocal. Must’ve been a great dream.”

Your face turned scarlet as the memory of the dream hits you like a freight train . the implication sank in. He knew. He noticed how you cheeks turned all the colors of red, how your lips were shivering as you bite your lower lip trying to contrôle it while hiding behind your coffee mug

“I—uh—don’t remember,” you lied, your brain stuttered, trying to focus on your coffee as your cheeks burned, and your legs crossed and squeezed together. you felt that your panties were socked & needed to run back to your room asap.

“Mm-hmm,” he said, clearly unconvinced but merciful enough to let it go. He noticed all your body language, and how you weren’t aware that your Pjs were a little bit of a light fabric showing how your nipples were hard and perky

During the day, activities out door took place, you were not a skier so you ended up just around your friends who skied or on the snow motorcycles . When it was time for dinner or just being inside, everyone was busy with preparing food or drinks or just deciding on indoor games, Lewis all day long couldn’t take his eyes off of you, when none was looking or noticing, his gaze would linger a little long on you, noticing the color of your laced lingerie that would pick out of your jeans or through that cotton top warmer. You on the other hand, your face said it all, flushed as if you had a fever coming along, even one of your friends where worried you got one !!

That night, as Lewis lay in his room, his thoughts betrayed him. He had brushed off what he heard with teasing ease, but the memory of your voice murmuring his name had replayed in his head all day, the way you looked in the morning perky & undeniably messy cute & shy . Now, as he drifted off, the boundary between reality and fantasy blurred.

In his dream, you were standing in front of him wearing nothing but the black laced lingerie that he noticed picking from your jeans and through your white blouse ( that he had noticed during the day) smiling coyly. The air crackled with unspoken tension. He reached out, his fingers trailing along your arm as your breath hitched. In the dream he could remember all your delicate details , your neck,your breast,your smell, he explored your body with curiosity with his soft finger tips. The dream escalated quickly, and when he woke up with a sharp intake of breath, the remnants of it lingered in vivid detail. He groaned, running a hand over his face“This is bad,” he muttered to himself, his body betraying him ,waking up with boner he couldn’t hide. Lewis decided to take a cold shower just to try to brush off the excitement.

The next day, he couldn’t stop noticing you. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the soft laugh that escaped when someone made a joke, the curve of your neck & waist as you leaned forward. It was maddening.He found himself stealing glances, his mind wandering to places it shouldn’t. Every little movement you made seemed to draw him in, and the tension simmered beneath the surface. Each time, both of you were next to each other, he would steal a smell of your perfume, perks of being short & petite he would stand behind you hovering over you. Your face would turn red, and you would feel hot to the point that you wanted to be out side in the snow in your underwear. Lewis also experience uncontrollable excitement each time your hand touches his or you to would end up just next to each other on the crowded couch on movie night. During the skie trip, you were having trouble with your snow board, Lewis offers to help, this made the tension between the two of you more accelerated, holding you close by the waist , manhandling you so you won’t slip and fall , hearing you laugh with excitement. His touch to you , having his breath minty fresh next ear and neck trying to explain the technique. He was surprised that he had no contrôle over his excitement having to deal with a boner (publicly) while you on the other hand, had trouble keeping your panties clean.

By the time New Year’s Eve arrived, the two of you could hardly meet each other’s eyes without feeling that undercurrent of something unsaid. As midnight approached, the group gathered around the fire to count down, champagne glasses in hand “Ten,Nine..” everyone cheered, but your gaze met Lewis’s, & the rest of the world seamed to blur.

When the clock struck midnight, the room erupted in cheers, but for a brief moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. He leaned closer,his lips hovered over yours stealing a kiss at midnight while saying, “Happy New Year.”

The weight of his words & both of you exchanging a kiss hung between you, a promise of something yet to come.

#lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lh44 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 imagine #f1 #lh44 x reader #team lh44 #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewishamilton44 #lewis hamilton one shot

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moonhoures · 1 year ago

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Insatiable

🕷️ kinktober — day 4: biting kink (& blood play)🕸️

pairing: sunghoon (enhypen) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, vampire bf!hoon, human!reader, tw! mention of blood, biting, blood drinking, oral (fem. receiving), cum eating, overstimulation (kind of, i guess?),

word count: ~2.1k

synopsis: your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both

a/n: where’s all my vampire!au lovers?!?!?!?!!?! 🧛🏻

posted: october 4, 2023

kinktober masterlist

You should’ve seen it coming when Sunghoon had stayed with you in the bed until you got up this morning. Usually, he would be up busying himself with something by the time you woke up. You should’ve seen it coming when he somehow found a reason to be in every room you were in at any given time. You were in the bedroom folding laundry? He was digging through his clothes to find ‘that one shirt he thought he lost’. You were in the living room watching TV? Suddenly he was interested in it too—though he had complained to you multiple times he didn’t like the shows you liked. You were in the bathroom? He was knocking on the door asking how long you would be because he needed to brush his teeth.

You should have confronted him during one of those instances, but you finally snapped in the kitchen. You were in the middle of making yourself a sandwich for lunch when you felt Sunghoon’s presence lingering behind you. He wasn’t touching you or hovering, but you could still feel him, mostly his gaze. It felt like he was your own shadow, following you around incessantly. The jelly-coated knife in your hand clattered onto the counter as you let out an annoyed groan.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been all over me all morning.”

“I can’t just be close to my girlfriend?” he asked, a dumb smile on his face. But you could tell there was something sinister about that smile; he had ulterior motives that he wasn’t going to give up so quickly.

“Suddenly, like this? No,” you leaned back against the counter, but there was still not even a foot of distance between you two, “So what do you want? Are you horny? Hungry? What is it?”

If he could blush, he would be doing so in that moment. His smile turned sheepish, embarrassed that you had caught on so fast. He didn’t mean to be so clingy, but he couldn’t help it. He woke up with his stomach feeling empty and his gums aching. His cock had also been basically rock hard when he woke up. His body was essentially begging him to eat and get laid, and soon. But he knew how tired you had been lately with work, so he let you sleep in. And you seemed grumpy after you woke, so he let you go about your day without bothering you too much. He suffered in silence for as long as he could until your outburst.

“Would you hate me if I said both?”

This time his smile revealed his pointed canines, longer than they usually were. You noticed the pale skin around his eyes had a dusting of rose-colored pigment, and small, faint, spindly veins branched around them. Those usually signified his hunger, and now that you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time he had fed.

Having a vampire as a boyfriend, while as outlandish as it sounded, was surprisingly low-maintenance. You weren’t sure if it was because of Sunghoon’s personality or if all vampires were like this—he was the only one you had ever met, to your knowledge—but he was really easy going. He held himself with great self control, only feasting when absolutely necessary.

When you had started dating him, he admitted his identity to you and assured you that he only fed on animals. For a while he had tried stealing blood from a local hospital, but he felt guilty, so he had quit. As nice as human blood was, he always felt it was morally wrong, so he stuck to an animal-exclusive diet. It wasn’t until you were almost a year into dating that you suggested he feed from you, and even then it took him a couple months to come around to the idea.

The first time he fed from you was overwhelming, to say the least, but he displayed way more self control than he thought he could. You had gone limp in his arms, which held you tight at the waist, crushing you against him while his teeth were sunk into the junction of your neck and shoulder. When you let out the smallest whisper of his name, he released you as fast as he possibly could, using his thumb to cover your puncture wounds. He had taken a bit more blood than he should’ve, but thankfully it wasn’t enough to cause you damage.

You healed up just fine after some food, water, and rest, and the next day you were good as new. But he still held off as long as possible between feedings, not wanting to take advantage of the food supply he could get from you. Though, secretly, you loved when he used you. The feedings almost felt like taking drugs. The rush you got from them was euphoric, even if it did take a large amount of energy out of you. And Sunghoon looked hot when he fed, you couldn’t deny that. The way his eyes turned that dark red (almost black) color. The way your blood stained his lips with a crimson hue. The way he became hungry for you in a way that surpassed normal lust. It was so primal. So carnal. So excruciatingly sexy. Every time you just wanted him to have his way with you, there and then.

“Okay,” you said, “but can we try something different this time?”

Sunghoon was shocked you were agreeing to a feeding right now, given your seemingly indifferent mood all morning. But he simply nodded, willing to do almost anything to get blood in his mouth soon, “Sure.”

“Do you, um, have to take blood from my neck every time?” you asked him, looking up at him with the art of seduction brewing in your eyes.

“No, I guess- I guess I could take it from your wrist or somewhere else on your arm. It’s just that the neck is the easiest access point,” he tried to explain, but admittedly he was pretty thrown off by the question. No one had ever asked him that before.

“So, you could really bite me anywhere then?”

“Y-yeah, I suppose I could. What did you have in mind?”

You simply smiled to yourself, having no doubt in your mind that you would get him to feed from you exactly how you wanted him to. Exactly like you had imagined a handful of times.

And, boy were you right. Not even five minutes later he had you thrown unceremoniously onto your bed, your shorts and underwear discarded and tossed across the room. His inhuman strength was used to grab your legs and place them over his shoulders as he wedged himself between your thighs. One tantalizing look from him and then he was committing the most sinful acts on you with his tongue. Licking and prodding and kissing and sucking your sensitive skin in all the right ways. In all the right places. He drew the most erotic, filthy noises from you, along with some moans of his name. He smirked wickedly into your pussy, his pride—and his cock—swelling.

Low growls rumbled from deep in his throat as he ate you out. His mouth moved with ardor, as if your cum was his life source instead of the red ichor that flowed in your veins. And he didn’t plan on stopping until he got both. So he hummed, holding your clit between his lips. He opened his eyes just in time to see you slipping, your eyes vaguely crossing and your lips agape, a gasp stuck in your throat.

“Hoon- Please- I need . . . Oh my God,” your words trailed off into a moan that was so pornographic you couldn’t believe it came from you. Your boyfriend was always great at eating you out, but this was on another level.

“Need what, _______? To cum? Then do it. Cum on my tongue, baby,” he pulled away to egg you on, then promptly returned to lapping at your slick lips. Your skin felt like velvet over his tongue, and your arousal tasted like juice from the sweetest fruit. But your blood would be the richest and smoothest of wines. And he wanted to get drunk off of you at any means necessary.

You wanted to answer, but you physically weren’t able to. Any words that you thought of formed in your throat and died before they could reach your lips, coming out in faint croaks or cut-off moans. His name was the only thing you could get out, and even that could only escape in choked gasps or panted breaths. It was the loudest when your orgasm finally snapped.

Your stomach felt like it was doing flips, and the area between your ribs and your thighs felt warm. Sunghoon’s grip on the outside of your thighs tightened as he tasted the first drips of your cum. His tongue collected as much of it as he could get. But he had to act quickly. While you were still in the throes of your orgasm, he pulled his lips away from your cunt, directing them to the plush of your inner thigh. He bared his fangs as much as he could before breaking your skin with them, sinking them as far as he could without seriously harming you.

A sharp gasp sounded from your mouth, and your hands fisted the sheets at your sides, tugging them into the tight grip of your knuckles. The pain was borderline insufferable, but you knew the taste of ecstasy that soon followed would make it all worth it.

In a matter of a minute, the pain was subduing and was being replaced by waves of pleasure. The warmth that was caused by your orgasm was ignited into a fiery heat, like the nozzle of a stove slowly being turned from low to high. Then, the tingling started. First in the thigh that he was feeding from, then the other one. It spread to your knees and hips. And soon after that, the numbness set in. That’s when you knew it was getting to be too much. Your body was going into a panic, but your mind was still dazed from the effects of his venom, which seeped in from the bite.

“S-“ you groaned, barely able to form a coherent thought, “Sung- . . . Sunghoo . . .”

Your boyfriend’s eyes shot open, and he immediately withdrew his mouth from your leg, “Fuck, I’m sorry, ________.”

You shook your head lazily, not entirely sure if the lack of energy was more from the orgasm or the feeding.

“You tasted so good, I couldn’t help myself,” he spoke quickly, his voice full of panic. He leaned down to lave his tongue over the puncture marks, using his saliva to heal them. It would seal them for now, keeping you from bleeding, but it would take a few hours for them to close, “Are you alright?”

In the blink of an eye, he was hovering above you, and anyone else would’ve been startled. But you were so used to his inhuman speed by now, you were unfazed. You were, however, dismayed still, and concernedly so. Sunghoon’s hand reached up to gently grab your chin, tilting your head from side to side, “________, baby, answer me. Are you okay?”

A drunken smile appeared on your lips, but your eyes remained closed, “‘m great.”

He sighed in relief, shaking his head, “Don’t do that. I was worried I drank too much.”

“A little,” you mumbled in a half-response, slurring your words, “but . . . felt s’ good.”

“Don’t black out on me,” he chuckled softly, a hint of worry still in his red-colored eyes as he peered down at you. His fingers gripped your chin a little tighter as he leaned forward and kissed the corner of your lips, “I mean it.”

“Or what?” you teased, eyes half-opening to see his handsome face inches from your own. If you weren’t so weak, you would have rolled you both over and taken the reigns then.

“Or I’ll eat you,” he mocked you, booping the tip of your nose with his before kissing you again, this time on the lips. His lips were tinged with blood still, the taste of iron present on them but not unbearable.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“You decide,” he patted your thigh affectionately, his thumb smoothing your skin and lingering near the marks he left on it. Then he got up off the bed, heading for the door, “Don’t move, I’m gonna get you a snack and some water.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen vampire au #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon vampire au #[🕷️] kinktober 23

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rae-writes · 2 years ago

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om boys cumcanons

nsfw

Lucifer

off white, has the thickest consistency of his brothers; it actually can be a bit hard to swallow all at once sometimes because of that, so he practically keens whenever your cheeks are puffed, visibly full of his cum, as you take your time swallowing it all. Tastes a bit bitter from all the coffee he drinks, but it’s not unbearable, and you start to actually like it after a while

Mammon

pearl colored with a golden tint, creamy consistency; you would think it tastes like sugar with the way it looks, but it’s just a distinct Mammon taste (with a tang of sourness from all the hell-sauce), and the texture is perfect for making you greedy to come back for more, which he is all too happy to give

Levi

paper white, but has some transparency to it, with an iridescent shine— it’s thinner than his brothers and a bit runny; he cums a lot so the consistency is good for quickly swallowing it down (and for easy clean up). Tastes like candy— literally. Sometimes leftover beads of it will roll off your tongue when you open to show him and the sight drives him crazy

Satan

milky with a rather normal consistency, though sometimes it’s thicker depending on how pent up he was; it genuinely looks like milk and is very easy to swallow. Tastes rich and almost sweet, like a loaded coffee that gives you the energy to keep going and going until you’ve both had your fill (gives a whole new meaning to the nickname ‘kitten’)

Asmo

pearly with a rose gold tint to it, a bit on the thinner side; he actually likes painting your face/body with it, so it’s pretty to take photos of and not too messy to where it’ll be hard to clean off (and he tastes amazing- like a fruity mixture but not too sweet and not too sour)

Beel

off white and has the second thickest consistency, though his is more of a creamy texture like Mammon’s; he cums the most out of all his brothers so it’ll definitely overflow out of your mouth (not that he minds the sight). Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste that bad, but you can’t really pinpoint the taste- it’s kind of bland, but given what he eats all the time, you’re okay with it

Belphie

milky, normal consistency, and glints under direct light (like stars); loves having you open your mouth with your tongue out and let his cum drip off- very aesthetic, tbh. He’s a mixture between sweet and bland yet it tastes so good, especially in the morning (where you can be caught giving him a wake up call with head on many occasions)

Diavolo

off white and is the third thickest consistency, but he comes so much (more than Beel) that it’s basically impossible to swallow it all down without either taking your time or having it dribble down your chin. Has a hint of sweetness, but it’s mostly bitter in taste, and even more so because of how much is in your mouth at once. Not the most pleasant, but you manage

Barbatos

paper white, bit of a thin consistency, but thick enough to where it’s pleasant as it pools in your mouth when he doesn’t allow you to swallow until he’s finished working; he’s a curious mix of bitter and shockingly sweet, it’s almost confusing on whether you love it or hate it (you love it, come on)

Simeon

pearly white with a pearlescent glimmer, and the consistency is perfect, just the right amount of thick and thin; and- and his taste??? Delicious— a delicacy, if you will. You could sit and swallow his cum down all day if you could (and when you tell him this during one of your cock-drunk spells while licking said cum up? he ascends. absolutely lets you overstimulate him till he’s passing out right then and there)

Solomon

off white, on the thicker consistency side; and I know what you’re thinking- but he actually tastes good- it’s kind of irritating, really (and makes you just want to get on your knees instead when he offers to cook for you. He can’t complain though, not when you’re shoving your cum coated tongue in his mouth and making him agree, though that might just be because your taste was mixed in too)

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ch4bby · 4 months ago

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I read two fics some time ago with Tim dancing along with Cass, and omg, it changed me- Because... JUST THINK ABOUT IT-

Tim being a rich kid, with really strict parents but who are flexible enough so that they don't have prejudices regarding very conventional gender roles. And thanks to this, Tim is put in classical ballet classes long enough to be able to wear pointe shoes.

Tim likes it to a certain extent, as the exercises, physical conditioning and muscle elongation help him to be able to follow the bat and bird duo around Gotham. Over time he stops attending classes either due to his parents' influence to focus on some other activity, or because he preferred that time to coordinate patrol routes and get more photos.

By the time he starts being Robin, he no longer attends ballet classes. The training left a small mark on the way he moves as Robin, but nothing too noticeable. He finds it easy to jump really high and is able to land silently and smoothly. He doesn't get dizzy easily thanks to the pirouettes and fouettes his teacher made him practice daily.

Also, training with Dick is easier than when he trains with Bruce, since with Dick there are really similar exercises thanks to the older boy's training in the circus as an acrobat. The elasticity is not comparable between the two, but Tim has enough so that some of Dick's exercises are not so impossible for him.

Cut out when Cass arrives and Tim notices that she likes ballet, and even more surprisingly, she dances ballet! It is thanks to this that Tim manages to find a common point between the two to be able to start a friendship, with Cass being really excited to know that Tim also knew ballet!

They both connect thanks to ballet, Tim, taking advantage of the fact that they were both quite similar in height and complexion (even in face, which still leaves him wondering sometimes if they weren't secret twins?) shares with her his leotards and shoes, at least the training ones. Because although Cass can stand on pointe with amazing ease, Tim prefers to help her go over the basic training to get on pointe. Because literally, those things break feet, and he doesn't want to see his adopted sister go through that (We're talking about Cass, though.)

By the time they've been through about two months of helping Cass go over the basics, and remembering moves she remembered seeing from when she lived in the basement of that Ballet school, she can get up on pointe, and Tim hands her some cute yellow pointe shoes that he got years ago, when Robin colors still drove him crazy. So when Cass wears them, they're flexible and soft, not hard and uncomfortable like the ballet slippers one recently bought.

And Tim, he has his cream pointe shoes to wear, also used and flexible, comfortable like an old toy you haven't used in a while and despite everything, you still know how to play with it.

They both select certain days to practice and dance different pieces of music, Tim occasionally teaching her the classical pieces she doesn't know, or showing her how to dance as a couple. Although for this he takes off his pointe shoes and goes back to his leather slippers.

They keep up this routine even when Damian arrives, and so far the only one who knows what they're doing is Alfred, basically because he's the one who usually does their laundry and tidies up the room they use to dance. Making sure the floor isn't too slippery and the furniture is pushed up against the walls to make room. Every now and then, they both invite him to watch a specific dance they've practiced, like a snippet from Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, or The Rite of Spring.

As more time passes, Cass takes more liberties in the dance and fuses ballet with something more contemporary, while Tim sticks to classical ballet. They keep dancing, but now each one gives a personal touch to each pirouette, pas couru, and movement. They make a temporary bar with pvp pipes, which despite everything, works wonders for them.

Maybe Bruce is the first one to find them, after a particularly tiring day in which he just wants to be alone for a few moments and decides to go to the rooms less used, he hears a classical melody from one of the rooms that supposedly, should be empty. And when he goes to see where the music was coming from and why, he finds his two children playing a fragment of Carmen (Gipsy friends duet) and is more than surprised by the ability not only of Cass, but of Tim! Bruce had no idea that Tim could dance ballet, did he learn it now from Cass? Or is it something he already knew?

Whatever the case, what surprises him the most is the amazing coordination of the two, they seem to be the reflection of each other. And with regret Bruce admits inwardly that if it weren't for the distinction of the clothes and the hairstyle, he would swear that he was seeing double.

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almmoon006 · 2 months ago

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My baby | 1/...

Plot: You are the Dark Lord's wife, who has an amazing influence on him. Autumn night, Potter family home. The parents are dead, the baby has been abducted. What if Voldemort changed his plans? Will you help him?"

Ps: I just wanted to give some comfort to my baby boy... I think there'll be just a few more chapters, some romantic with Tom and Harry's childhood he deserves.

The sky was covered with massive clouds, the air was permeated with a grave cold, unusual for summer, piercing to the bones. It seemed that Lady Death herself had decided to bestow honor and reveal her presence to the world. Crows cawed in the distance, as if warning of possible dark events. It's bad.

The man slowly approached the faded building, the windows of which were still flooded with a nasty yellow light, indicating that its inhabitants were still awake. A short knock on the door. No response. Two more short knocks, but a little harder. Silence. It was getting boring. The man chuckled briefly, dismissing the feigned politeness far away, and took out his wand from the pocket of his robes.

A brief bluish light, and the door obediently opened.

The unknown man went inside as if to his own home, the old floorboards creaked unpleasantly under the weight of a human body. It was surprisingly cozy inside. As much as it is possible to do in an old, useless house somewhere on the outskirts of the street, away from any passing wizard. The man's pale face lit up with a short predatory smile as he noticed the long-awaited pair of wizards. James stared at the newcomer with wide eyes, mentally cursing his carelessness and the fact that he had not checked the alarm charms the day before. In a trembling but still firm voice, he told his wife to go upstairs with the baby, standing between the wizard and the stairs to the top. How stupid of a Gryffindor to play the hero without a wand in his hands. The grin on his pale lips only grew stronger, and the hateful brown eyes stared at the ceiling as the large body collapsed lifelessly to the floor. The wizard just grunted and walked around the lifeless body, slowly and steadily climbing up. The same fate awaited the witch.

And so, he stood in front of a baby's crib, from which a pair of curious eyes the color of young juicy greens looked at him. The baby was clearly unaware of everything that was happening, not paying attention to the body of his own mother lying on the soft carpet in his cozy bedroom. The boy's attention was focused on the stranger.

Voldemort stared at the innocent face without blinking. The red eyes glided rapaciously over the unruly shock of short, thin baby hair, over the clean, sparkling eyes with the most innocent trust in the world, over the soft-looking skin and the slightly open mouth, from which incomprehensible babble kept coming out. Magic itched uncomfortably through his veins, like a thousand little needles, seeking release in the form of another deadly curse. But the man hesitated. It wasn't that he was starting to doubt his own original plan. Meanwhile, in the green eyes on the contrary, somewhere behind the bright iris, a twinkle danced. Good or evil, it's not clear yet, but he was definitely powerful, showing all the inner power hidden in a very young body.

As if sensing the man's doubts, the baby stretched out his small plump arms upward, wanting to be lifted up. The wizard did not resist. He took a step closer and lifted the light body in his arms, hugging it to himself. The boy sighed softly, finally feeling the long-awaited warmth, and clung to the strong chest, feeling the comfort and pleasant tickle from someone else's magic.

•••

Being a member of the Black family wasn't easy. Being the wife of a Dark Lord is even worse. As the only daughter of Valburga Black, who shared many of her former classmate's ideas, you were introduced to him as a potential spouse. As many adults have decided without your consent, the Dark Lord needs a wife, even if she is not connected to him by deep feelings of love. After all, if the future Minister of Magic of Magical Britain has a family, in particular a wife, why not follow him and his ideas, because they will definitely correspond to traditional interests.

You had no choice. But you didn't resist either. At least it was better than marrying one of your cousins. The very thought of such incest always sent an unpleasant chill down your spine. And despite the fact that the Dark Lord was a halfblood, he had influence in certain circles, and he was not deprived of his appearance and fortune. You had nothing to complain about.

Surprisingly, you got along well. Not immediately, but in many ways. It was as if Voldemort had opened the bolt of his partially whole soul for you and let you inside the bubble that he had been building for years. And he didn't regret it. Raised by your mother, you were faithful to the ideology instilled in you and shared many of the Dark Lord's thoughts. You were a strong, wise, and most importantly loyal witch who managed to arouse a certain interest in the dark wizard. Although your marriage was not filled with love, passion or romance, it was quite strong, stable and trusting to a certain extent. You knew about Tom Riddle's story and knew that he was "incapable" of love. Finally, the marriage was limited to rare touching, kissing in public and sharing a bed in the evenings. After all, sex life is important for the health of both of you, so there was nothing to argue with.

You were on your own in your free time. You spent this time with your cousins or doing some hobbies, unless there was some special paperwork that you could do to free up your husband's schedule. You've also recently become a frequent visitor to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa gave birth to a wonderful boy, so you did her best to help her with a little fidget. Maybe you were partially jealous of her, not out of bad intentions, of course. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you and Tom would never have children simply because he couldn't stand them. And you've accepted his position. That's why little Draco was your outlet. Narcissa watched with a sad smile as you played with the white-haired boy, until the young mother finally had the opportunity to have a quiet cup of tea.

•••

You were sitting in the living room of Riddle Manor and slowly sipping wine from a crystal glass, with pleasure running your eyes over the lines of some interesting book found in your husband's library. The wood in the fireplace crackled pleasantly, and the warmth coming from the fire warmed your lonely soul.

Suddenly, there was a soft pop. You slowly looked up from your book, your eyes widening in surprise. Voldemort was standing next to the armchair opposite the couch, tightly wrapped in a loose dark robe with a baby in his arms.

Oh.

With trembling hands, you put down your glass and book on the coffee table, getting up from the couch and immediately approaching the man with a slight bow.

"My Lord, is this..."

The boy shifted his gaze from the strange man to you. His big emerald eyes blinked a few times, until he smiled a toothless smile and held out his hands to you.

It seemed like your world had stopped. You looked at this bright innocent creature and didn't know what to say. The Dark Lord didn't seem to mind or obstruct the boy's actions at all. On the contrary, he took a step closer and handed you the baby. You obediently took the child in your arms, hugging him tightly and, as if in a familiar way, began to gently stroke his heaving back.

"This baby..."

"Harry Potter."

Your eyes widened in mute shock. The baby seemed to recognize his name, and began cooing happily, playing with the pleasant fabric of your dress.

"Harry.. Potter? But, my Lord. You intended to.. kill him."

The man sighed, throwing his robe on a chair, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Plans have changed. It would be much wiser to take control of him and raise a worthy heir. There is nothing to be afraid of a simple child. With proper upbringing, he will become a strong wizard."

You nodded briefly, listening to your husband's words. To tell you the truth, you've been thinking about it ever since all the Death Eaters found out about the prophecy. After all, really, how can some small child interfere?

Harry didn't really follow the conversation of adults and after a couple of minutes he blissfully closed his eyes, feeling the comfort and coziness of your body. The baby fell asleep.

"We will educate him. Help him get on the right path. While Dumbledore and his bright friends will rejoice at the imaginary victory, we will make him a real wizard," Tom said reverently in a low voice, touching the boy's soft hair, "You will be his mother. You'll teach him everything a real wizard should know. Since the Order of the Phoenix wants to play, we'll give them the opportunity."

#harry potter #harry potter au #lord voldemort #the dark lord #dark lord #voldemort x you #voldemort x reader #voldemort #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #voldemort x y/n #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #harry #harry james potter #baby harry potter

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dandylovesturtles · 30 days ago

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I meant to do this earlier and then I didn't |'D but quick little ficlet for @trilobitepunch 's DTIYS!

I've tried to read all the stuff about fangiverse but I may have some lore wrong... but I hope you enjoy this anyway, Aya!

-----

Raph has always kept an eye on his little brothers, and that hasn't changed. Two of them have some added... difficulties now, but that's all. They're still his little brothers, and Raph will watch out for them, same as usual. Everything is totally normal.

Thinking that way helps him stay calm, anyway.

Like now, wandering through a marketplace in the Hidden City, eyes on Donnie as he pokes at the gourds at a stand with a frown. They have a whole shopping list from Draxum, for some medicines he wants to try to make that he thinks will help not just Donnie and Leo but all of them. Raph had almost insisted that he and Mikey could do it on their own, but Leo starts going stir-crazy if he's kept locked in the lair too long and Donnie can lock himself in so long he needs the vitamin D.

Besides, Raph doesn't want to feel like he's keeping them prisoner. It's not their fault.

But against all odds, the day has turned out surprisingly well! They had lunch at Run of the Mill, and ate all their favorites. Leo and Mikey spent their remaining New Year's money on candy from a shop that temporarily turns keratin weird colors; it's supposed to affect fingernails, but right now Mikey is sporting a bright pink shell as he trails after Donnie (Raph has to admit, he wants to try it later). For his part, he has an almost-eaten cup of froyo, which he'd piled high with some pretty weird toppings (the Hidden City has weird green mushrooms that taste like cotton candy!). And they've made it through over half the shopping list without incident! Maybe everything will go smoothly after all.

And just as Raph thinks that, he hears a familiar snarl, and everything falls apart.

His mistake, he realizes even as he turns to look, was focusing so much on Donnie that he forgot to keep an eye trained on Leo.

Donnie's easy to trigger, and he sinks deep, devoid of everything but the urge to attack, to fight. Leo can usually keep one finger in reality, just enough to be the bridge between Donnie and the rest of them. Donnie is unpredictable in a crowd, but Leo loves being out around people. That's why Raph had kept his eyes trained on purple.

But the thing is, when Leo goes down, he goes down hard. And there's nothing to stop Donnie from being swept right along with him.

Raph swivels on his feet, froyo cup tossed aside as he scans the crowd. He finds Leo fast, poised like a snake ready to strike, snarling and hissing, pupils flared and wild. His fangs are out and they're bared, staring down a yokai almost three times his size - Raph doesn't know what happened in the lead-up, but he has a feeling that Leo's freakout is deserved.

It doesn't change the fact that they can't stay here now. If Leo hurts someone in this state, he'll beat himself up about it for weeks - and it's only a matter of time until the cops show up and arrest all of them.

"DONNIE!"

Raph isn't at all surprised by Mikey's shout, or the sudden blur of purple that shoots past him. Donnie is at Leo's side in an instant, snarling just as loudly, the two of them circling back to back in challenge to the increasingly panicked crowd.

It's time to go!

"Raph!" yells Mikey, but Raph doesn't spare him a glance. He trusts Mikey to keep up.

"Hitch a ride, Mike," is all he says, before he's clearing the space between himself and his snarling brothers in two big steps. A second later, a familiar weight lands on his shell; one problem taken care of.

Donnie is just about to launch himself at a yokai brandishing a short sword when Raph swoops in, grabbing his little brother by the battle shell and tucking him under his arm. Donnie howls in frustration, but Raph has experience on his side; he pins Donnie to his side and makes sure his teeth can't get anywhere near him.

"No biting, Dee!" he calls over the noise of the crowd, and gets a frustrated chatter in return.

"I can't reach Leo!" Mikey reports from his shoulder. Raph swivels around to look at his remaining sibling, currently advancing on the big yokai once again. Said yokai has his hands balled into fists in front of him, but he looks more than a little concerned as Leo lurches toward him with predatory steps.

Maybe he could just let him get a little closer...

No, Raph should definitely stop this.

With another big step, Raph comes level with Leo and scoops him under his other arm, earning a startled yelp that would be hilarious under other circumstances. Both feral turtles struggle under his arms, fangs bared and hands strong, but Raph has them in his grip.

A police siren echoes over the din of the crowd.

"Time to go!" Mikey shouts, thumping Raph's shell.

"Don't gotta tell me twice!" he yells back. He's already muscling his way through the crowd, making a beeline for an alleyway off the market. They need to get off the main streets, then book it for the nearest portal topside.

The whole trip, the bundles under his arms hiss and snarl and claw at him, completely ungrateful for how he just saved their butts. He ought to drop them and leave them here.

But he won't. They're still his little brothers, after all.

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #trilodtiys #trilo fang au #rise leo #rise donnie #rise raph #rise mikey

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ratatouillewastakendammit · 8 months ago

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Hiiii! How are you???

I loved the love-quirk piece you wrote for Touya/Dabi and was wondering if you could do the same trope for Hawks please please please??? 🥺🩷

Ugh I lovvveee Hawks and I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

Summary: Love-quirk trope but Keigo Takami edition because he deserve some nice fluff

Warnings: Language; suggestive

Word Count: 2.9k

The wind whipped through the stray strands of your hair, stinging your eyes as you ran toward the scene. It tousled the fabric of your hero suit, wrapping around your body as you took a moment take in your surroundings.

Despite the fact that the commotion seemed to have calmed down a bit, it was easy to see that chaos had just recently erupted. Haphazard concrete was littered across the street, a lamppost smashed through the middle strewn directly in front of you. Its dying bulb flickered amidst the debris, a beacon of energy among all of the destruction.

You had gotten the call maybe seven minutes ago. At the time, you had been peacefully drinking your morning serving of coffee. The word of criminals attacking the Northern side of the city rumbling over the agency forced you to push the steaming cup aside, ignoring the look of dejection stemming from the kind intern who had brought it.

Hawks had gotten there significantly earlier, thanks to his widely known speed and the fact that you were on the opposite side of town.

Speaking of your partner, he was nowhere to be seen, but the stray streaks of red plumage floating through the air alluded to him being close by, most likely taking down remaining villains in the nearby vicinity.

If the multiple unconscious bodies were anything to go by, he had already taken care of most of the assailants. Still, there seemed to be a few scattered around, all of which immediately began gunning for you.

You weren't exactly worried, however. Groups like this believed their abundance in numbers would make up for a noticeable lack of skill.

There was one left moments later, armed to the teeth, but visibly sloppy when it came to close combat.

Arms forward, you readied yourself for a quick win as a flash of color registered in your peripheral vision. You turned, almost positive that it was your partner, but wanting to make sure. That recognizably cocky grin and friendly wave confirmed your suspicions.

That grin faltered for a moment as he watched you pause, fists growing limp and face showing no reaction to the scythe-wielding villain running straight for you.

Reaction time as extraordinary as ever, Hawks shot forward and rammed his body into yours, the both of you colliding into the road as he tried your best to protect your head within his arms. A wall of feathers were unconsciously sent towards the criminal, the man currently screaming and banging on the now iron-like plumes.

Hawks took a breath, your face still buried in his shoulder and cradled beneath his biceps. His attempts to ignore the speed of his heart at your nearby demise went in vain, even as he forced that usual lighthearted upswing into his tone. "What the hell happened? Trying to keep me on my toes or something, sweetheart?"

Pulling away slightly, he readied himself for that usual glance of annoyance he'd receive when using the nickname. Surprisingly, your features held none of that discernible exasperation.

One of embarrassment and guilt lay there instead, your eyes flitting towards the ground.

"I'm sorry... I guess I got distracted." You lifted your gaze to meet his. "I just was thinking that you looked really nice today."

The absolute deadpan expression he wore would've had you chuckling any other day, laughter bubbling at the way his eyes seemed to almost double in surprise. Regardless, a saccharine smile, sweet and alluring, was what you offered.

His flirtatious remarks towards you were nothing new. He had liked you for a while, sure, but his usually amorous persona was known by many, so he wasn't sure you thought much of it. You had definitely never indulged in it, however, usually brushing it off with some sassed retort for the sake of professionalism.

The way you looked at him had his mind in shambles. It looked like you were on cloud-nine, blithe and unbothered despite your near death experience.

"Excuse me?"

Hawks jumped up, lacing an arm beneath your shoulders to take you with him.

A navy-clad police officer stared back at you both.

"Thanks for your help." She cleared her throat, trying to wipe away the look of surprise she was wearing. "We can take the cleanup from here."

"Thanks," he offered her a friendly nod before turning around and walking away, a hand wrapped protectively around your wrist. Craning his neck slightly downward, he muttered a quiet, "You okay?"

"Mhm. I feel fine."

"Uh-huh." Golden eyes glazed over your form, unconvinced.

"I am kind of tired, though. Can you fly us back?"

He stopped.

There had been a few instances where Hawks would fly you back to the agency's building after a mission.

Or, more so, he would offer, you would kindly decline, and he would sneak up from behind, pulling your body into his before taking off without warning.

It was something about the way you were forced to wrap your arms around his neck, hanging tightly in fear despite the fact that he would never allow anything to happen to you.

And even though the display of your annoyance didn't go above the usual huff of complaints after landing, you had definitely never asked for him to do it.

There was something wrong with you, that much he could tell. And while he was covertly enjoying this overly affectionate version of you quite a bit, the worry he felt for your well being easily overshadowed any satisfaction he was feeling.

Still, he nodded, not keen on letting you out of his sight as of now, sliding a hand behind your back and under your knees before pulling you close and rising into the air. He watched your expressions closely, well enough versed in the layout of the city to be able to not pay attention to where he was going.

As usual, your features were brimming with quiet anxiety, but nothing else exactly seemed to be all that different. Besides the way you clung onto him without the slightest bit of protest, of course.

It had been mere minutes before the agency faded into view, mirrored windows reflecting the splendor of an early evening sunset. His landing was just as graceful as the departure, combat boots sliding just barely across the cobblestone road.

You hopped out of his hold, but kept an arm laced around his own as Hawks led the both of you inside. Photojournalists were a constant outside of his agency and he was sure a shot of you two, your head resting beneath his shoulder as you practically hung off his side, would make them go crazy.

And while he didn't exactly mind, he was almost certain that you would be peeved if the paparazzi began spreading word of some dating scandal.

That could wait until you were more than just rumors.

Keigo was nothing if not persistent.

Especially when it came to you.

Automatic doors shut behind you, the soft click of shoes against polished marble echoing off the lobby's walls. The receptionist, a elderly woman with silvery hair and glasses much too large for her face, offered Hawks a wave, expression faltering slightly as she saw your hand laced with his.

"Are you okay, hon?" She leaned over her desk as you came into hearing range, aged voice lowering into a whisper. "He bribe you or somethin'?"

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. It gnawed at the edges of Keigo's chest. "Not at all!"

The older female flicked her eyes up to her boss, eyebrow raised in overt suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure what's going on yet," he sighed, running a hand through his golden bangs. "Can you get me the security footage from earlier today?"

She took a moment, face wrinkling in thought before looking up. "You!"

The subject of her call, an intern carrying a tray of steaming cups from a nearby coffee shop, jumped in surprise. Hawks had recognized him from around the office, but his name was lost, mix up in the sea of other employees that came on for the Summer.

"You're good at the screen stuff, yeah?"

Nodding hesitantly, the worker moved closer, eyes locking with the both of you. Panic washed his features as his gaze went back and forth over the heroes in front of him, each orbital shift making it seem like he was trying not to vomit.

As he reached the desk, he practically ducked under your line of sight, reaching the receptionist's computer, fiddling with it for a moment, and scurrying away without another word.

The suspicions in regards to the intern followed Hawks as he took you upstairs, ignoring the looks of confusion from some of his other coworkers. As the door to his office shut with a soft click, he pulled out his desk chair, slumping down with a sigh.

"Alright, lovebird. You're gonna stay in here while I look through some videos. Got it?"

You flashed in a grin. "Think I'm gonna get in trouble or something?"

"Seeing as I had to save your ass half an hour ago, maybe." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Ya know, I don't think I got enough groveling for that."

"Yeah?" You moved over to where he was sitting, sliding a leg over both of his and sliding down until you were able to straddle his lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you looked up at him, eyes glossy and voice dripping in temptation like honey. "Thank you, Hawks, for saving me."

If there was ever a time he wanted to tell someone his given name, it was now. Every inch of him wanted to hear that needing tone lilt through his name, not the famed honorific the world knew him for.

Hearing you moan it would be even better.

Still, the possibility of some mind control or body swap being behind your strand behavior gnawed at the peripheral of his mind.

He was desperately trying to ignore the thought of how nice your hips would look between his hands.

Responsibility and desire wrestled in his mind, the latter getting dangerously close to a KO when the knocked sounded from behind his door.

"What?" The sound came out sounding significantly ruder than how he'd usually like it, but that couldn't be helped.

The frosted glass entryway slid open slowly, a trembling hand pushing it forward. A figure followed it, the fidgeting intern from earlier that Hawks had almost forgotten about.

"May I speak with you, sir?" He swallowed, eyes flickering from you both to the ground. "Alone?"

Cocking an eyebrow, Hawks turned to you. "I'm just gonna be a few minutes. Can you wait outside for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded, but the slight pout running through your bottom lip displayed your aversion to the idea.

It easily had Keigo's pants tightening.

Once the door had shut behind you, the intern took the open seat in front of the desk, hands wringing one another in a desperate attempt to smother some anxiety.

Based on his expression, it definitely didn't seem to be working.

"So, uh... I know why she's acting like that..."

Those unanswered suspicions from earlier jumped in Hawks' chest, despite the fact that they had been forgotten mere moments before.

You were a distracting little thing.

Maybe this debacle was as dangerous for him as it was for you.

But if you were his undoing, he wasn't sure that he would mind.

"I promise I wasn't trying to do anything wrong," the worker continued, voice meek and entangled with nerves. "I just... I just wanted to see if she liked me back."

Jealously burned in the back of Keigo's chest, a feeling distasteful enough to be difficult to ignore, but your well being was currently more important.

He ran a hand through his hair, one of the few physical tellers he exhibited when exasperated. "What did you do?"

Swallowing, the man in front of him continued. "Well, um, I have a love quirk and I usually bring the other heroes their coffee, so I kinda sorta used it while it was handing it out to her this afternoon."

Silence hung in the air like some toxic, poignant type of humidity.

"What?"

The worker bowed in an apology, the top of his head barely missing the wooden edge of Kiego's desk as it was thrown downward. "I know it was stupid and I promise I'll never do it again. Please don't fire me."

The number two hero wasn't exactly known to get angry.

But dammit, if he wasn't downright terrifying when he was.

"Are you serious? Didn't you stop to think that she could've gotten hurt?" Hawks stood up, the heels of his chair skimming across the floor. Golden irises flared in vexation, matching the sneer resting on his mouth. "She could've died! Fuck, she almost did!"

Now trembling a bit, the intern let out a sniffle. "I'm sorry. It's just... she's so pretty and is always nice to me."

Sitting down, Hawks took a minute to breathe, letting the indignation filter out before he said, or did, something he would regret. Some part of him couldn't exactly blame his employee; he had fallen for you just as easily.

He sighed, rested his face on the palm of his free hand. "And how the hell would making her fall in love with you prove whether or not she was interested anyway?"

The worker looked like they were about to keel over. "The quirk only works if the effected individual makes eye contact with someone they have feelings for."

Fireworks went off in his mind, blowing a usually cunning train of thought to shambles. To say he was fucking giddy was an understatement and if he hadn't been so pissed off at his own intern, he might've thanked him.

Still, he had one more question.

"So, how do you, ya know, turn it off?"

"You gotta," his employee cleared his throat. "You gotta kiss her."

Anger from moments before and pure glee were fighting for dominance in Hawks' head.

"If anything like this happens again, you're out. Understood?"

The intern nodded fervently, practically sprinting out of the office and offering sputtered words of thanks all the way. You followed shortly after, eyes darting around to make sure you weren't interrupting any meetings.

Hawks stood, immediately walking over to you.

"Is everything okay? That guy seemed kinda ner-"

He pushed his lips against you, swallowing your words with a soft moan as he hands found their way around your waist.

When he pulled back, he watched you blink away the confusion. He could practically see the gears of your mind turning. It didn't take long for embarrassment to wash over your features, a look of amusement falling over his own as you lifted a hand to your face in awe.

"Oh, shit," you breathed. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I swear I didn't-'

"Ah, come on, you don't have to be shy. I thought it was cute." A smirk found its way onto his expression.

You turned away from him, trying to ignore the blistering heat finding its way into your cheeks. "What even happened?"

"You're just too trusting." He looped his arms around your body, leaning down to rest his chin on your left shoulder. "What am I gonna do with you?"

Boyish charm dripping off his features, he continued. "But don't worry, I think I might like it better when you're pretending you aren't obsessed with me. It's more satisfying when I get you flustered that way."

"I'm not..." If the lack of confidence coating your words were any indication of their untruthfulness, the way your heart beat seemed to increase with every syllable was the real betrayal.

That was one of Keigo's favorite parts of his quirk, the way his heightened senses could pick up on every hitched breath, every quickening of the muscle in your chest that reinforced your lies.

He spun your around in his arms, gently taking your burning face in his fingers and forcing you to meet his eyes. They raked over your body, hungry and arrogant. "Liar. You were practically grinding on me earlier."

"Fuck." You groaned, the sound seeming to do nothing but widen Keigo's grin.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I like you too." He gave your waist a little squeeze using his free hand. "And you can get off on me all you want. I'm free right now actually if-"

"Shut up." You gave a lighthearted smack to his chest, but the soft smile brimming from his own confession seemed to abandon any real animosity.

"So, you gonna let me take you out or what?"

You huffed, trying to ignore the way the flirtation lacing his tone made your chest constrict. "Fine. We can go out for coffee or something."

His expression darkened, limbs tightening as he pulled your body into his, head resting atop your like he was scared you would slip out of his grasp. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, cursing those annoyingly attractive muscles that had built up over years of hero work. "You're not allowed to drink coffee anymore."

#“you gotta kiss her” SAY LESS -hawks #hawks #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x reader #hawks bnha #bnha #hawks x you #bnha imagines #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha hawks

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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 1 year ago

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🤍a completely random modern au headcanon for each aot character 🤍

eren jaeger’s idea of late night fun is going to walmart/target/etc. he likes to walk around with his friends and be absolutely childish. bonus: he’s banned from a certain store for kicking an inflatable ball across the store.

armin arlert is self conscious of his body. it’s only really his torso though. when him and his friends go to the beach, he’s always the last one to take his shirt off. he doesn’t even have anything to be embarrassed about, he’s just disappointed he’s not as muscular as eren or reiner.

mikasa ackerman’s favorite color is a dark red. the blood, cherry type of red. she’s got a lip tint in that color and her nails are painted too much. she also chews her nails. she hopes the nail polish is enough to break the habit but it isn’t.

connie springer’s favorite fast food restaurant is burger king. he thinks it’s underrated. you can count on him to fuck up a whopper. he also always gets the cardboard crowns to wear.

jean kirstein loves night time. he loves the solitude, the way nobody expects anything from him, and the fact that he can just be. he doesn’t get lonely during his late nights but he wouldn’t mind somebody to share it with.

sasha braus smells really good. she doesn’t use any super fancy products, though. she’s just one of those people that naturally have a good aroma. her skin is also really soft.

ymir tans really easy in the summer. she never burns or turns red. she’s genetically blessed. the sun also makes the freckles on her face pop and clusters of them pop up on her back/shoulders.

historia reiss loves milkshakes and soda floats. she always orders them with a whipped cream and cherry. she prefers milkshakes from a diner rather than a fast food place.

marco bodt really likes plants. he has a collection of houseplants. they line his window sills and he even has a special little rack with a special little light. he’s got a super green thumb.

reiner braun drinks protein shakes religiously. he pretty much sticks to a diet of shakes, meat, vegetables and rice. there are few times where he breaks his routine, usually just joining his friends for a night of drinking.

bertholdt hoover has a surprisingly high tolerance when it comes to weed and alcohol. at least that’s what it looks like on the outside. he’s pretty cool, calm and collected. nobody’s sure if he’s immune to being drunk, or if he’s too anxious about acting a fool to show any signs of inebriation.

annie leonhardt owns a german shepherd 100%. she’s had it since it was a pup and it’s one of the most well behaved dogs. they’re oddly similar in their mannerisms. bonus: it’s named marley.

pieck finger is the type of girl to sit on the floor. like, at all times. when she’s sad, she’ll lay down completely and just stare at the ceiling. it’s peaceful and it makes her feel relaxed.

porco galliard goes through an ungodly amount of hairgel. his hair is hard like those ballroom/ballet dancers in competitions. he has trouble growing facial hair.

zeke jaeger gets his weed flown to him from another state/country. it’s the best shit around. he’s also never home because he “runs a business.” always found with a blunt near by.

levi ackerman doesn’t like energy drinks or coffee. if he needs caffeine, he gets it from tea or some kind of health drink. he doesn’t understand how kids hearts don’t give out with all their monsters and red bulls.

erwin smith is so friendly despite his appearance. he finds joy in little things like a heads up penny or when the barista remembers his name/order. he’s a pretty easy going guy.

hange zoe breaks her glasses all the time. they either sit on them or step on them. it’s easy for them to lose their glasses because their room is a mess. books, papers, knick knacks everywhere.

my jean fic

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onlyswan · 2 years ago

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summary: in which you don’t want to give up on jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).

> idol!jungkook x reader, angst, fluff / word count: 7k

> warnings: tears overflowing </3 mentions of cheating (but again no one did it ok !!), heh judgemental family members amirite, is giving lipstick marks a warning ?

> in which masterlist!

note: anniversary reveal! and more of oc’s pov :( in the aftermath of in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much left to give !! it’s up to u which one to read first if u haven’t. the in which series is a puzzle 😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts after reading <3 hugs and kisses <3

—

“i feel like this shouldn’t be taking this long.” jungkook jokingly remarks as he pushes the shopping cart with folded arms, tiptoeing and tracing your steps as your eyes wander around the entire shelf of feline necessities.

“leave me alone. there’s too many options.” a huff escapes your mouth as your index finger underlines the flavors of cat treats, aiding you in reading the small words.

he pulls back the cart before it could collide with your hip, resting his chin on top of his arms as he impatiently waits for you to pick out a small gift for your friend’s cat, who you will be catsitting tomorrow.

“just pick the one with the happiest looking cat. that should make it easy, right?”

“jungkook!”

entertained by his own humor, his bright giggles harmonize with yours. eventually, you’re forced to sit on your toes so you can scan the other products shoved in the lowermost shelf.

“surprisingly, many of them don’t look that happy.” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself.

“baby?”

“yes?”

“i’m getting bored.” jungkook pouts sulkily, bouncing his leg. in the midst of spacing out, he spits out the first question that pops in his mind. “what crime would you get arrested for?”

“arson,” you answer with a shrug, perhaps a little too quickly. the most adorable packaging you’ve seen so far steals your attention, and it’s almost as if you’re being beckoned by the colorful jars of cat cookies.

tuna? salmon? or chicken?

“oh?” he perks up in intrigue, mouth gaping in surprise. “why didn’t i expect that? why arson?“

“i mean, nothing special. it just sounds efficient? it takes little work but creates colossal damage.”

his face lights up when you stand back on your feet, relieved that grocery shopping is almost over. you place the jar of your chosen flavor, tuna, in an unoccupied space in the shopping cart.

“but realistically? i’d probably burn down my building with my forgetfulness and then get framed for it. i imagine that sometimes when i cook.”

“who would frame you?! tell me, baby.“ he angrily yells in a whisper, a cheeky smile growing on his face. “i’ll investigate and take care of them. that’s what i will get arrested for.”

“damn, how romantic.” you reply teasingly, granting his lips a loving peck. afterwards, you whisper to him as if you’re trading a well-kept secret, hushed voice and squinted eyes. “later. i’ll show you which of my neighbors i suspect.”

—

“baby?” jungkook chirps the pet name one more time, seizing your hand and putting it under his so that he’s pushing the cart while holding hands with you.

you hum in acknowledgement, sparing him a short glance as you look around, just incase you find something else you need while you’re on your way to the counter.

“have you thought of anything you want for our second anniversary?” he asks with sparkling eyes, his excitement uncontainable as more days get crossed out from the calendar. “a gift? and where you want to go?”

and that’s when your calmness completely shifts into chaos. his questions are giant buckets filled with ice, callously dunked over your head without any sign or warning. your walking pace gradually slows down as his words sink in, and you drown in the tornado swirling violently in your chest.

“our… anniversary?” you choke out.

your evident confusion is met by jungkook’s disappointment, halting on his tracks as to not leave you behind. “yes, february 25. that’s in three months… have you forgotten?”

“excuse me-”

a middle-aged woman rudely pushes your back, and you apologize in panic as you face your boyfriend to provide her the space to pass through. your heart drops to your stomach when you notice his stoic expression, hurt and distant, before you allow yourself to be whisked away from the center of the aisles.

“babe, please don’t be mad. i swear, i didn’t forget!” you cling to his muscular arm, hugging it to your chest as you stand behind a long line of overflowing shopping carts. “i literally have all the 25th marked in my calendar. how could i forget?”

“ugh, you tell me.” he frowns at you, lightly bumping his head against yours.

“i just didn’t realize it’s that near already.” the half-lie, half-truth tastes bitter on your tongue. “have you ever thought that time moves too fast when you’re happy and having fun? that’s exactly how i feel when i’m with you.”

yes, jungkook have thought of it a million times.

“fuck, alright, i’m not mad. you’re pretty good at this, huh?”

your sweet smile is pleasantly contagious. a flushed-face jungkook unconsciously copies you. he becomes pliant as you raise his arm to wrap it around you, stealing his body warmth this chilly november afternoon.

“i want to see a waterfalls with you. can we go there?”

he presses a kiss to your temple, unmoving for seconds, before he pulls away with a distinct smooching sound that fills your stomach with butterflies. “mhmm, niagara?”

you fail to hold back an amused snort, covering your mouth to prevent unwanted attention from strangers. “be serious. think local! we barely even go out of town!”

“but i’m serious.” he blinks at you. “we can just take pictures, have a dinner date, then go home!”

“you do know that it’s at the other side of the pacific, right?”

—

the cold breeze engulfs you in a big embrace as soon as you step out of the grocery store, carefree and unaware of its thorns prickling your skin. hand in hand, you and jungkook walk to his car parked two blocks away, carrying a plastic bag while he took the heavier two.

after putting out the small fire, your tumultuous emotions clamber to the surface, and it becomes increasingly difficult to hold them down the longer he’s around. the clouds are dark gray, as if they’re writing in pencil beforehand, my tears are about to fall. you feel stupidly envious of their ability to weep anytime they need to, in the face of the casualties. how nice would it be if you allowed yourself to be the same?

“this wasn’t here before. when did they open? let’s go inside for a bit.”

distracted by your stream of thoughts, you are guided inside an establishment with you only noticing belatedly. jungkook lets go of your hand to marvel at the collection of sunglasses displayed in extended rows. you stay idle by his side, watching him check himself out in the mirror as he tries them on one by one.

“that one looks good on you.” the praise automatically slips from your mouth when he wears a rectangle-shaped brown frame, more on the bigger side. as expected from your extremely handsome boyfriend, he makes it appear more stylish than it originally looked on the shelf.

“really? should i buy it?” he wears a radiant beam, repeatedly lifting it up and down as he inspects your face with and without the filtered lens.

“hm, i think so.” you skip over the grocery bags on the floor, squeezing in yourself in the small mirror. “here, look here again.”

jungkook rests his head on yours as he smiles at your reflections, tight-lipped, bringing out the most endearing set of dimples you’ve ever seen.

“why are you acting cute today?”

“i was just born this way.” he grins proudly. “and i guess i missed you.”

the ever-present sincerity in his voice adds weight to the heaviness chained to your heart, and you reward a kiss on his cheek to conceal your uneasiness, leaving a conspicuous lipstick mark in your wake.

“yah!” he lightheartedly scolds you with a chuckle, pushing up the sunglasses over his hair to examine his face.

you reflexively seize his wrist with an offended gasp. “hello? are you about to wipe off my kiss?”

“you can give me a thousand more in the car.“

“but that defeats the purpose.” you defeatedly answer as you let him go, witnessing your lipstick turn into a faint blush that compliments his honey skin. “oh, fine! i guess i’ll go window shopping over there.”

“where’s ‘over there’?”

he whips his head around to discover that you’ve disappeared.

—

you don’t flinch when you feel someone hold your waist. maybe you know it’s jungkook. maybe you know jungkook will die before he lets anyone else touch you in his presence.

“are you sure you won’t get anything?”

“i won’t. i just saw the hot air balloon two months ago.” you timidly shake your head as you return the sixth eyeglasses you tried on. “are we going home?”

your boyfriend responds by intertwining your fingers together.

“let me take this again then.” you reclaim the grocery bag you were with earlier, taking it upon yourself to hold the paper bag of his new sunnies as well, just to lighten his load. how the hell did he manage to carry everything in one hand?

your eyelids briefly flutter shut when he kisses your cheek. “thank you.”

when jungkook pushes the door open do you only hear the raindrops crashing on the pavement, splashes of cold water staining your denim pants as you stand under the canopy roof.

“shit, it’s so cold.” he shivers with a laugh as you simultaneously pull your hoods over your heads. “carry the bags on your other side.”

“why?” you ask innocently, but you do as he says anyway, not seeing any reason not to.

“just because.” he transfers to your right, capturing your free hand to put it inside the front pocket of his hoodie along with his. “let’s go!”

and you know the probability of you buying cold medicine for two in twenty-four hours is high, but this moment feels like it could last forever — running under the rain with him and feeling overwhelmingly alive, heart and soul; realizing halfway that he switched positions so he’d be the one closer to the busy and slippery road. they have wild similarities: nature and jungkook. a breath of fresh air. stars. the candied scent of flowers. dulcet sounds. warmth. home. resourcefulness. whimsical. unstoppable force. they devastate you catastrophically without meaning to. sometimes you overthink that they do. sometimes you know them and sometimes you don’t. you’re part of the problem but it’s hard to admit.

jungkook drives ten times more carefully. the rain is pouring harder as the seconds fly by, giving the radio speakers of his car a run for their money. the twenty-five minute drive to your apartment is nothing short of torturous, tinted windows too blurry and too reminiscent of memories you’ve been trying to push into the recesses of your mind. but they’re out of control, ceaselessly replaying in your head, and you can still see his tear-stained face even when you close your eyes. the windshield wipers are working hard but the sky is remorseless.

“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”

“i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”

he’s wrong. you so strongly wish that he’s wrong.

you swallow the lump in your throat, chewing your bottom lip harshly, but the thread you’ve been hanging on has been snipped. you begin to cry silently, curled up on the passenger seat and face hidden by the hood you haven’t taken off. you pretend to be asleep as jungkook softly hums the tune of the songs playing in the radio. you feel so fucking suffocated. you hate this car. you hate the rain. you hate that you’re being this way. you feel guilty that your boyfriend is excited for your second anniversary while you’re stuck up in the past. you feel ashamed of feeling, almost.

you don’t know how to tell him that you’re sad because you love him. and even sadder when he thoughtfully wraps you in a blanket in the middle of a red light, stroking your back as he whispers. “my baby must be so tired.”

—

the rain has become a clement drizzle by the time you arrive at your destination. standing before your apartment unit, jungkook sets down the grocery bags on the floor to take off the wax cord necklace hidden underneath his clothing. he uses the pendant, his copy of your house key, to unlock the front door.

you slip off the loose sneakers on your feet by the floor mat before heading straight to the bedroom. you hang your boyfriend’s backpack on your study chair and place his paper bag on top of your desk. he enters the room when you’re already pulling the thick hoodie over your head, leaving you in a navy blue body-hugging top.

“love, are you okay?” he asks as he brings out fresh clothes from his backpack, looking over your sprawled out figure on the bed, eyes shut and breathing heavy.

“i’m alright.” you force yourself to sit up, sliding off the bed to stand on your feet. your head is pounding and you want to puke your guts out. is it normal to experience such heartache that you feel physically sick? “i’ll put away the groceries.”

“okay. i’ll be there to start cooking dinner!”

you merely nod, brushing past him.

—

you begin with restocking the fridge. meat, eggs, yogurt, almond milk, fruits, and the like. jungkook arrives when you’re already unpacking the second bag, and his first instinct is to affectionately hug you from behind. after too many days physically apart, he’ll be damned if he’ll allow even an inch of distance between your bodies.

your actions are put on halt when his palm presses on your neck, and then the back of it. “why do you feel so warm? don’t you feel sick?”

it was the final blow. to be honest, it’s been long overdue. you’re frozen in place, defeated as one by one, the tears finally drip from your damp eyelashes. they roll down your cheeks, some crashing on the table and seeping into the wood to form tiny circles of a darker shade of brown. the rest of them rolls down to the hand that is checking your temperature. you sniffle before he can question the new sensation on his skin.

“hey- hey, what’s wrong? are you crying?“ he moves to your side for a better view of your face, but you shake your head in denial. “what happened? baby?”

“nothing.” you mutter, brushing him off.

you gather the bottles of soy sauce and vinegar, wiggling out his hold to place them in the shelf above the stove. you return to the table to pick up the stuff that goes in the cabinets, but jungkook catches your wrist, removing the pack of sliced bread from your hand.

“i thought we’re not supposed to shut each other out.” he whispers, pulling you closer and guiding your arms around his waist. “it breaks my heart when you cry, baby.”

his doe eyes are pleading as he tilts up your chin to meet his gaze, thumb softly drawing circles on the apple of your cheek. you feel so utterly lost, overwhelmed by his gestures of kindness and affection. and yet you cry, because if he loved you that much, how did breaking up became an option he was willing to choose?

“our anniversary…” you trail off, ripping apart at the seams. “it still counts.”

neither of you knows if it’s a statement or a question.

“it still counts.” he nods slowly, repeating your words. “sh-should it not?”

his heart races in his chest as fear creeps up on him, dreading your answer. did he fuck up again? but your response only leaves him with more questions floating above his head.

“if we only had a pause- does that mean you… didn’t try looking for someone else? right? you didn’t sleep with anyone? while we were…”

for a moment, jungkook forgets how to speak as silence reigns over. his forehead creases in confusion, a sharp pang digging in his heart like a dagger as you wait with bated breath.

“no. why would you ev- no. no, i didn’t. where is this coming from?” his round, agitated eyes search for a clue in your expression but you don’t allow him that privilege, impassive as you withdraw from the close proximity between you.

“it doesn’t matter, that’s all i needed. thank you for answering.” you sigh heavily, turning on your heel to head to the bathroom. “i’m going to wash up.“

“____, come on. don’t walk away from me.” he almost begs out of desperation as his fingers curl around your arm, itching to embrace you because serrated trepidation is gnawing at his insides. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he’s not losing you. he won’t let you slip away.

you sigh. “let go, jungkook.”

“how can i let you walk away after learning that you think i cheated on you?” he frustratedly blurts out, the words revolting on his tongue. this was never supposed to happen. he was supposed to be a partner who never gave you any reason to question his faithfulness. “that doesn’t matter?”

“it doesn’t.” you assert firmly.

jungkook is scared. he doesn’t understand how you can look at him like this, pretend you’re not wounded and bleeding. he doesn’t know if you’re giving him a pass or if you’re punishing him.

“either way, you broke up with me, jungkook… i would hate it, but it wouldn’t have been cheating.”

“it is to me.” his hauntingly angelic voice shatters, along with your fragile hearts as he says- “i didn’t love you any less and you know that.”

sorrow seeps into the silence, permeating the cold air, thick with heartache and tension. you walk away from him wordlessly, and jungkook is taken aback, vision blurred and unfocused as his hand drops to his side, devastatingly dejected.

“____!” your name fades into a muffled noise.

the doorknob clicks when you lock it. numb as your feet carry you to the sink, numb as you twist the faucet until you can’t anymore. the strong pressure of the water hitting the porcelain echoes throughout the dimly-lit bathroom. you tightly grip the edge of the sink as you fall apart disastrously, like a wave blazing past the shore and destroying everything in its path with ferociousness — because it’s the only thing left it knows how to do. your endless tears turn the cold tap water into saltwater. it inevitably overflows, spilling over the edges and soaking your trembling hands.

when he broke up with you, it opened the door to many other possibilities that hurts you to think about. you thought you knew, too. but the seed of doubt was planted in your mind when you were forsaken, and it kept growing as a wildflower even when he came back and laid beside you after not reaching out for weeks.

the last time you cried like this, you begged him to allow you to keep loving him.

your weak knees give in to the pull of gravity, heedless of nasty bruises as you cover your mouth to restrain your afflicted sobbing, nails scratching the porcelain as your lone hand insists on holding you up. sometimes love is not a warm comforting embrace. sometimes love is teeth. sometimes love is biting and perversely holding on. were you not worth fighting for? this time around, can he sacrifice something else instead of you? does that make you sound selfish? what if you don’t care that it does? and you wonder if it’s alright for two people to be in a relationship despite having different ideas of what loving means. you wonder if you’ve truly changed his mind.

outside, jungkook anxiously paces back and forth. the piercing sob that tears itself from your throat and crawls through the small cracks of the door is a direct, forceful punch to his gut. he swallows thickly, wiping away the tears brimming his eyes. he can’t cry, not right now. four months have passed, but it isn’t time’s job to heal all wounds. it’s his.

—

“what are you making?”

jungkook’s bubble pops when he hears your voice. he didn’t even realize when the shower stopped running, too absorbed in the kitchen so that he won’t intrude into your boundaries despite his restlessness. he takes you in, clad in your silk pajamas, before looking back at the bowl of dark brown batter he’s been tirelessly stirring and folding to incorporate the ingredients together.

“brownies.”

“all of a sudden? thought you were going to make dinner.” you leave no space between the two of you as you dip in the tip of your pinky finger for a taste.

that was the original plan, but he knows that you like to consume sweets when you’re feeling down.

“i’m about to. are you hungry?“ he speaks in a subdued voice, gingerly rubbing your lower back. “i’m putting this in the oven now.“

“can i help?”

jungkook dies a little inside when your eyes meet and he notices that yours are swollen, yet still gleaming with affection.

“you can, uhm, peel the potatoes?”

you curiously look back to see the ingredients for gamjatang, pork bone soup, laid out on the dining table. “okay.”

as you begin to diligently do the task you were assigned, he transfers the batter to the pan covered with parchment paper before pushing it inside the pre-heated oven. the faint pitter-patter of the rain fills the apartment as the clouds squall once more. he occupies the seat next to you, entire body facing you as his arm rests on top of the backrest of your chair.

“don’t you want to talk about it?”

you frown, briefly pausing as you ponder so you won’t cut yourself. “no, i want to… i just needed time to think.”

he grows quiet, biting at his nails as he watches your hands smoothly peel off the skin of a potato using a paring knife.

“it matters to me.” he’s been dying to say. “____, you know that i love you, right?”

you thought you had no tears left in you, but your face is feeling hot yet again.

“i know.”

“i did a shitty job at showing it because i was stupid, but it never stopped being true.” he says, steady and sure, doe eyes longing to read your mind. “i love you so much, hm…? i love you.”

“i know. that’s why i’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

a small bitter smile appears on your face as you pick up another potato to peel.

“the other day, your aunt told me you went on dates… she even showed me old pictures of you and the girl together then apologized to me-” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. ��for setting you up, because she thought i got what i wanted from you and finally backed off. but none of your friends ever mentioned this person to me… or you… that’s why i couldn’t- i couldn’t… it was embarrassing.”

it’s hilarious, really, how you were scared shitless of jungkook’s parents not approving of you, but you failed to consider his relatives. you can’t shake off the subtle looks indicating that you were dirt on her shoe, the honeyed condescending tone that made you feel small and hollow as you sat with her at the bus stop, completely clueless as she rambled. you wanted to laugh, cry, and curse up a storm. and you would’ve chased after her when she went to ride the bus without giving you the opportunity to stand up for yourself, but you had to remind yourself that your actions might taint people’s perception of jungkook, and you couldn’t risk that.

“baby- baby, look at me. please.”

he carefully pries away the potato and the knife from your hands, cupping your face in his big palms. you gaze at him wide-eyed as you ground yourself by clutching onto his wrist. your loud heartbeat pounds in your ears because it’s not always that you can look at each other like this, meeting halfway, seeing more than feeling.

his eyebrows are closely knitted, nose scrunching and barely blinking as he sets the record straight.

“it was one time. she’s been trying to set us up since forever, then… then she planned a date during the time we weren’t talking without even confirming with me… it was a place outside the company, so i just went to say it was a misunderstanding and i’m taken! i felt embarrassed because it’s a family friend. nothing more…” he caresses you tenderly, feeling a pinch in his chest as he tries to put himself in your shoes. “i promise, love, i left after like two minutes. why would i go on dates when i was losing my mind, hm? i was missing you like crazy.”

you melt into him when he crosses the short distance between you, pressing his soft lips on yours for a kiss that makes the whole world quiet. your noses brush each other before he withdraws.

“she left out that part, didn’t she?” he rhetorically asks with venom stirred in his otherwise dulcet voice.

you purse your lips into a thin line.

“seriously, this- this is ridiculous… this is bullshit. she really did it this time. ah, i’m angry! does this even make sense? what’s the point of all that?” jungkook huffs with a sarcastic chuckle as he runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing and tugging to release his growing frustration somehow.

this is why his lover has been doubtful of his devotion? he has known his aunt since he learned how to recognize faces, and he knows that it takes a whole lot for you to reach this breaking point. he can only imagine the interaction that took place, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.

you’ve seen the good and the bad, and you focus on the good, and you stay with him despite despite despite.

he takes a deep breath to compose himself, and then his tongue prods the inside of his cheek as his determined eyes search for his phone. he quickly snatches it from the table and stands up, the screen coming to life as he unlocks it with his thumb’s fingerprint. “i’ll be right back, baby.”

“jungkook,” you call out his name as a warning, grasping his wrist before he can go too far. “don’t act rashly.”

“i’m not! i’d go to busan but i’ll put that off because i’d rather spend my day-off with you.”

you don’t know what you were expecting his reaction would be, but it’s not a great leap to say that he is furious, pending to explode.

“i’ve been nothing but polite even though she was fucking badgering me non-stop, but i won’t let her think that it’s okay to treat you like that… she doesn’t have the right to meddle with my life, and she can’t disrespect the most important person to me. i-i-” he pauses to breathe, chest heaving with the weight of his emotions. “i won’t allow it.”

you are his calmness and he is the storm.

his voice wavers by the end of his sentence, doe eyes turning glassy as he sincerely confesses, which is probably why this isn’t the right time for you to smile like a lovesick highschooler with a crush. this is exactly what you tried to avoid, making a mess and a series of uncomfortable holidays, so why does it have to feel good to hear him say that?

you nod with understanding as you free his wrist. “okay. don’t take too long.”

jungkook heads to the front door before his anger can be erased by his adoration for you, so endearing as you peel small potatoes like you had all the time in the world.

as he steps outside, the raucous rain rings in your ears and its distinct smell mixed with the soil enters the apartment.

you cluelessly blink at the ingredients surrounding you as you mutter to yourself. “how many of these am i supposed to peel again?”

—

jungkook returns after a phone call that went longer than planned, but not before wiping the wet floor from both sides of your front door to avoid accidents. he discovers you squatting infront of the unlocked kitchen oven.

“what are you doing?” he asks with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“it’s baked…” you raise the toothpick you poked the brownie with, tilting your head to the side. “right?“

“oh, it is! let’s take it out.”

he rushes to the counter to wear oven mitts, and you stand aside so he can carry out the pan from the oven. you follow him as he places it on top of the wooden table mat on the table, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to gain his attention.

“what happened?” you interrogate him worriedly as he pulls off the oven mitts from his hands.

“huh?” you’re coaxed to move closer when he caresses your nape, sliding down to the smooth expanse of your back. “my mom will call you soon.”

“what? why?!”

“she wants to cook for you. to apologize for what her son and her sister did.” he scrunches his nose with a guilty chuckle, scratching his head. “let’s go home for dinner one of these days, okay? we’ll cook your favorites.”

“but i thought…” you chew on your bottom lip, hand balling in a fist and crumpling the fabric of your boyfriend’s t-shirt. “did you call your mom too? i don’t want to cause trouble.”

“what do you mean? you’re doing nothing of the sort.” he gives you a disapproving look, gently squeezing your tense hand to quell your worries. “and it just turns out she was listening the whole time i was talking. they’re hanging out together. uh, besides, she would’ve found out one way or the other.”

“but they can’t be fighting, right?”

“aigoo, don’t worry about it anymore. stop hurting your brain. it’s mean.” he strokes your head lovingly with a small smile that suggests an answer to your question. “your mother-in-law loves you. everything’s okay. it’s cold so let’s just eat our dinner then cuddle in bed, hm, baby?”

oh. your mother-in-law?

“you’re so annoying.” you mutter half-heartedly, burying your face in your hands as the tears surge in once more.

god, you feel so relieved.

you crash against jungkook’s body when he tugs you closer to envelope you in his arms. maybe, just maybe, if he does it long enough, you will be pieced back together. even though he, himself, breaks when you weakly pound at his chest with clenched fists.

“i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.” you chant like a broken record in between sobs, glitching in cracks and pauses and stutters. the more you say the same three words, the more they lose their meaning.

he squeezes his eyes shut, enduring the heart-splitting pain and embracing you tighter. “i know- i know.” he repeats your words from earlier.

he hates himself, too. he needs to get his shit together. he understands — he has to grow up if he wants to keep you.

“but i love you, and i’m scared you’ll leave again and i won’t beg you anymore.” you ramble without thinking, brain on auto-pilot mode. “i’m not that kind of person, jungkook. that’s not me. i don’t have to prove it, do i?”

you feel so utterly exposed, disgustingly vulnerable. nevertheless, before jungkook is anything else, he is your best friend.

“t-they think i’m using you.” you hiccup, forearm covering your stinging eyes. you taste the salt in your own tears as you speak. “but that’s unfair, so unfair. i only accept what i’m given. i barely ask you for anything. it was only one time, o-only one time. i asked you to come back, because i missed you. i want to be with you because you make me happy.”

jungkook’s jaw clenches in anger, no longer able to withhold his tears. he sniffles, wiping his wet cheek on his shoulder. you’ve suffered more than enough because of him. if anything, he should be the one getting the lashings from his side and yours. this is wrong. this is all wrong.

“shh- shhh. breathe, baby.” he coos as he pushes down your arm, brushing away the tears on your face. “come here.”

you whimper when he swoops you off your feet, carrying you bridal style to the living room. he sits on the sofa, and he sits you on his lap. you slide off him, just a tiny bit for your back to reach the armrest, pulling him along with you.

“hug me,” you demand quietly.

he fails to defy the urge to smile, abruptly pulling you in for a passionate kiss that steals the air from your lungs. your eyelids flutter shut, tense body relaxing into him as your lips follow his lead in this delicate dance of enigmatic intimacy. your fingers graze his jaw shakily, afraid it might cut you and you’ll be awoken from this enduring dream. they desperately tangle themselves with his hair, digging to keep him glued onto you.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

he makes a whispered promise carved into the walls of your apartment, sealed by his lips pressing to your knuckles, and you’re left to wonder forever if he kissed your left ring finger on purpose.

jungkook is soft-spoken, slow and careful with his words that could make or break you.

“i’m so sorry that i hurt you. and i’m sorry that you have to go through this because of me. i’m sorry for everything. i’m sorry. but…” he inhales, and exhales, licking his lips. “the noise might never stop. i know it’s not as easy to say, but i hope we don’t let them get into our heads. just because we can hear them, doesn’t mean we have to listen, you know?”

and as much as it kills him to admit-

“we’re fragile right now, so i want to protect what we have.”

you profusely nod your head, and his thumbs sweep over your cheeks to catch your teardrops.

“let’s be happy, and love each other for a very long time, hm…? i know you’re not that kind of person, so you can ask me for anything. or you can even take them without asking me. i don’t care. what about it?” he says with passion and conviction, galaxy-filled eyes expanding as he shakes his head. “but never me, or my love. you shouldn’t feel like you have to ask for it. do you know why?”

you arch an eyebrow at him, still switching between fiddling with his long and slender fingers and tracing the veins running along his arms. “why?”

“because i’m yours. every single second of everyday. i love you. you deserve all the love i can give. that’s my number one responsibility as your boyfriend… but i failed you. i know you forgive me but… but i-i want to love you better. i won’t get tired of fighting for us, and showing you that i mean everything i say.”

“don’t say things like that.” at last, you crack a genuine smile, giggling as you lightly hit his chest. “i’ll become greedy.”

“good. that’s what i want.” he retorts with a chuckle, but he means it wholeheartedly.

he wants to be inconvenienced by you. he wants to make impulsively confrontational phone calls he will overthink before bed. he wants you to wake him up in the middle of the night clawing for snuggles. he wants you to jump on his back when you’re exhausted of walking. he wants to charm the owner of your favorite restaurant into cooking one more meal before closing because you always ask him to make a quick stop when he visits you. he wants his life to be influenced by yours in every possible way, two different colors mixed in a palette to create a new one that matches the sky.

“thank you.” you smile sheepishly. “and i’m sorry too, for everything. i don’t handle these things well… i’m still learning.”

“mhmm-hmm.” he shakes his head in disagreement, before leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. “i love you.” he smells like romance and comfort, sugar and cocoa from the brownies — the cure to your nausea. you still taste a hint of the sweet flavor when your tongue darts out to lick your dry lips, traces from your taste test and his.

“babe?” you whisper after minutes that felt like hours, drowsy and cozy cuddled up with your boyfriend in the corner of your sofa.

he hums in question, sleepily nuzzling his face on your neck.

“i’m so hungry. i think i’m going to die.”

“ah, yes. i can hear that.”

—

“should i slice the onions next?” you question in a sing-song voice as you enter the kitchen, immediately regaining possession of knife.

“stay away from them. i don’t want you to cry again.”

you pout, clicking your tongue. “you’re right. then what else can i do…? why do you look scared?”

you study jungkook’s wary stance in amusement, taking a glance at your hand where his shaking pupils are trained.

he playfully puts up his arms in surrender, laughter laced with nervousness. “baby, stop waving the knife around.”

“i’m not!”

“yes, you are! just put it down. i’ll do everything, okay?”

you place it back on the table with a scoff, slumping on the chair and crossing your arms. “and then what?”

“then have the brownies for appetizer.” with a self-satisfied grin, he cuts out a slice of brownie that has cooled down during the time it was left unattended.

“i don’t think this is how it works.”

“shhh, baby.“ he menacingly hushes you with his pointer finger over his lips. “don’t say anything. just taste it first. ahhh-“

you take a small bite from the piece that he’s holding out for you, and then another after deeming it too small.

“how is it?” he gulps as he anticipates your reply.

“yummy!”

“really?” he giggles when you chomp on the remaining dessert and accidentally bite his poor fingers.

“don’t know what makes a good brownie exactly, but it’s perfect to me.” you nod your head enthusiastically, somewhat feeling better with the prospect of having your stomach filled with more of your boyfriend’s cooking.

your jaw slacks open in offense when he slaps your hand in the middle of your attempt to pick up the knife, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he threateningly looks at you.

“what was that for? i just want more brownies!” you cry out, lightly kicking his shin from under the table.

“oh- ow!” he cracks up in hearty laughter, corners of his eyes crinkling as he rubs the affected area. “sorry, i’m sorry for my fault! they’re all yours! please forgive me! i’m sorry!”

you send him a scowl before pouring all your focus into slicing the rest of the dessert into bite-sized squares.

he bends down to your eye-level, cutely tilting his head to the side as he speaks lowly. “i’ll cook dinner now. just wait a little more… maybe two hours?”

“please tell me you’re joking.”

—

not long after, you hop on the vacant counter space with the brownies for a better view of the kitchen scene. you leisurely swing your legs as you watch jungkook freely move around your kitchen, occasionally getting lost as he converses with himself. if your calculations are correct, he has asked himself the questions “oing? what was i supposed to do again? what did i come here for?” twice so far. it’s a good thing he talks to himself out loud so you can remember things for him.

he stirs the pot of stew, leaves to gather more ingredients, then comes back to dump them in. the cycle ends with nods of satisfaction, before he waddles over to your spot for a snack break. straight away, you greet his parted lips with the chocolate-y goodness that was reaped from his sweat and tears.

as he chews on the brownie, he turns his face to the other direction and pokes his cheek for another request. with your thighs caging his hips and your hands grasping his collar, you tug him closer to your body. your plushy lips plant gentle but full kisses on his cheek, trailing down to his defined jaw and neck when you run out of space. the tingling sensation shooting up his spine prompts his fingers to dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, breathing gradually getting heavier with your every electrifying touch. the final kiss is granted to his adam’s apple, more prominent as he swallows.

you straighten back up while fixing your hair, and jungkook’s starry eyes follow your red lips in a hypnotized daze. there’s no one else who can make his heart flutter quite like you do. your breathy giggles are music to his ears as you take in the sight of both his cheeks adorned with scattered lipstick marks, appearing like watercolor on paper.

“what’s that for?” he eyed you suspiciously while you were painting your lips, but it’s him who kept coming back to you for more although you were already happy with one.

“you look so funny.”

but if this arrangement goes: he can make you laugh by granting you the permission to leave marks where your lips have been, he will happily live with that.

“can i take a picture?”

but you don’t even have to ask. your phone is still charging in the bedroom, so he proposes his for your convenience.

“here. just airdrop them to yourself.” he hands it to you with a cool shrug, nonchalant on the surface but giddy inside.

—

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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