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1kook · 4 years

Text

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?”

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence.

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

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sgwrscrsh · 4 years

Text

winter days: underneath the tree

☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.

includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words

☁️masterlist☁️

shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked.

yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.

living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.

you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.

“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.”

“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands.

“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.

“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.

submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub.

“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.”

rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”

“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said.

emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist.

“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves.

“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.

“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”

you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.

“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.

during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.

“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.

“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.

“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.

“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms.

“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves.

“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes.

“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?”

naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.

the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner.

with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you.

by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door.

“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry.

“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”

“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.

“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.

“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”

“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.

“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”

“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.

“what time did you get up this morning?”

“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”

“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.

“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”

“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.

“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go.

“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”

“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.

“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.

“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.

one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.

christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.

“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”

“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings.

“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you.

“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”

“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.

“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.

“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts.

“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.

“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.

suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.

“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you.

“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds.

“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”

“go ahead?” hajime parrots.

“yea! open it!”

“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.

“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.

“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.

“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”

“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.

“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.

“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask.

“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”

“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining.

“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.”

“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.

“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug.

“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.

“uhh, surprise?”

“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”

“actually…”

“you didn’t.”

“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”

“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.

“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”

“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.

“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.

“when did you have time to do this?”

“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”

while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.

“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by.

“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.

“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.

“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”

“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.�� as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.

“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!”

“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.

“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.

“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.”

as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out.

issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.

sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.

taglist: @lovemeafterhrs @sachirou-senpai @honey-makki @kenmaki

#skye writes fluff #seijoh four #seijoh third years #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu poly #haikyuu post time skip #skye writes a series #summer on you: the series

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killerbananas · 3 years

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Epoch 1: Fondness

After allowing his gaze to haunt you, Hades finds himself equally bewitched by your magics.

🔞 Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | WC: 3,448

Pairing: Reader (Immortal; afab) x Erwin (Hades)

Warnings: smut; hand job, oral, come eating, face-riding, butt play, predator-prey dynamics (lighter), a caution that fucking magic beings has consequences

AN: This is alternatively titled Fortunate Fools. Next chapter should be Porco/Triton. The follow-up to this chapter is certainly planned, but still very much in early stages and thus I cannot say when it'll be posted, but it will happen. Hopefully, we'll get a good glimpse of the underworld and that three headed puppup 🥰 Please let me know how you like this as this is kind of my first more "enriched" fiction I've busted out in a while.

He ghosts the edges of your vision, a shadow of cool whispers that trail through the breeze as it winds around the open air of the venue where you are hovering. The rich tone of his power licks imploringly yet delicately at your skin all the while as you sparingly talk to those about you who acknowledge your artworks. You had already managed to find two people you would like to work with in the future, but there were so, so many that had required the stillness of your sealed lips that you’d tired quickly. It was as you believed yourself alone for longer than a hare’s heartbeat that a shadow crawled over your shoulder, the owner’s height causing you to turn your chin up to catch the source.

“You paint the Gods’ anger with such bold strokes, I should think you would fear their wrath for giving permanence to their transgressions against man.”

His statement is as daring as your painting, for calling the scene you had stroked transgressions spared plenty for you to glean of his own opinions. A mischievous smile teases the corner of your mouth while you raise an eyebrow at the darkly bright being.

“Some moments are simply too touching not to paint, if I can be honest. They beg to be caught and kept, fleeting though they may seem. As for fear, I believe this particular emotion is not usually paid its proper dues. Fear is something every being should rightly experience, but only for its informative nature. Use it. Release it.”

He tilts his head as you reach out and pull off some thread from the edge of your canvas, tenderly fixing the appearance to be right once more before standing, turning in a flourish of the light fabrics alluringly swathing your curved form. You meet his face closer than he believes another being beyond his brothers have dared in centuries so that he subconsciously holds his breath as you smile widely at him, full of teeth. He waits for you to step back, to give some social modicum of space that should be warring at your senses like gnawing dogs to be so close to an immortal.

And yet, your calm demeanor does not even ripple with the want licking at your apex and fingertips to paint the angles of the azure-eyed god gifted with planes of glinting alabaster, lightly dusted in haloing peach that threatens to thunder your heart inside your rib cage. You are the stillness of a curious fawn at the water’s edge, flirting with a pearl-toothed alligator, but the core of your soul vibrates with the darkness of both dualities where the fawn courts death and the alligator mourns the mounting mortality of a passing connection with another compatriot in the twilight of existence. You can smell the darkness and death the god emanates, for it is as comforting to your senses as the forests you call home.

He is taken with the closeness and what it affords him, bemused at the darkly impish behavior he sees dancing around the depths of your irises. He breathes in your brazenly flirtatious scent and the flavor makes his mouth water, what he traces on the edge of his senses as he watches you. It captures his attention to distraction as you raise your hand slowly, as if to not spook a rabbit enchanted with the flower’s ambrosia. Introducing yourself with a soft timbre that begs him closer still with his extraordinary senses acting as rote muscle memory in tandem for a shared whisper, secret, reception of willful need to chase an urge, to taste your lips and savor each syllable like honey. He is taken.

His cool fingertips contact your raised hand in an intimate exchange whereby his lips impart the epithet the scribes have been repeating for years unnumbered, Hades, into your knuckles, equally entranced. Teasing at the edges of your senses is a feeling familiar and reassuring in a way you sorely encounter. His bright gleam of teeth only stokes the heat pitted down between your thighs and begs you unravel him with your mouth.

"An interesting perspective, but surely, upon introduction alone, would you not portend at least some risk to your livelihood?"

Shouldn't you simply be quaking at his feet in fear, meeting the Lord of the Underworld? Perhaps, were you mortal and were he not so devilishly stunning.

"Should I?"

You have not moved a muscle, finding no fire in his implicating question. Moreso, he almost seems to be attempting to guide your thoughts in line with his own expectations. Of course, you could feel the itch of your power further tickling your self-control, innately ready to make the first strike if the wind blew wrong, but no gust ruffles his ire. In fact, beneath the stoic mirth façading his desire, you can almost taste the intrigue fueling his tongue. When had he last made an introduction so absent of dread horror that such a title innately holds to most?

"Shouldn't you, given your depictions here?"

"No, as I have never once had the pleasure of painting the shade of blue that now graces my presence. Though perhaps that rationale pales with the wisdom I have followed for most of my life. A wise man once bade his transgressors thusly: May those that arrive unprepared, leave with the lesson they deserve tucked between their legs, for they should be as fortunate as any other impromptu fool."

He takes a moment to contemplate the turn of phrase, lips tugging upwards in more mirth, neigh, nearly a chuckle at the bold threat tucked neatly inside. None should trifle with those they know not. For all intents and purposes, he believes the same could be said for you, but he only now drops your hand, drawn to such brazen gall and contemplative of precisely why you are not. Is it foolishness or wisdom? For a rare and telling moment, he even questions himself. Were he his brothers, he might take offense at the implication, but he is nothing like the impulsive Zeus, nor burdened with the ego of Poseidon. Unfortunately, the time to react further, to loosen your tongue, is cut short.

It is the jarring clearing of another admirer’s throat that blinks the vision of the charming wraith from your view and the maddening rage his sudden absence fills you with is enough that you could level Athens, but you breathe through it and spare none of the emotion from the glance to the unwelcome trespasser who had broken your opportunity at satiating the hunger driving you ravenously furious. As the look is enough to move the man’s intentions to self-preservation, he disembarks apologetically, tail metaphorically tucked between his legs as he scrambles off.

The sun seems a bit brighter in the absence of the immortal you had just met. You were not sure what you had expected of the god rumored to exclusively reside in the underworld. His light-kissed locks were bright in the way ice reflects, but his dark persona seemed to be stealing every beam that touched him without the normal physics to guide it from his predatory personage. Yet, seeking him out readily sung in your veins as a melodious addiction you craved viscerally. The redness hazing your gaze is alleviated only by the glinting of a scale at your feet, left in place of where Hades had stood moments prior.

It reflects with prismatic beauty, shaped with sharp edges, drawing a maroon droplet to your thumb that absorbs into the sleek material in a way that no normal science would proffer, clearly bewitched. It glows an ethereal azure before returning to its nascent state. Pocketing the reminder of your visitor to evaluate another time, you return to your home for the evening to paint your frustrations away. And if anyone could describe the wake of your departure, it would surely include the terms ‘violent’ and ‘destruction.’ Each step cracks the ground at your bare feet, rending the stone crushed in uniformly spaced divots as your toes push forward at the end of every stride. The very walls groan at your passing, tiny dislodged fragments trickling down like disturbed dustings of snow. The heavy door you encounter could be better described as a window once you are through it, so shoddenly bereft is its final state. Yet, as you reach the edges of a darkened forest, far from common humanity, you sigh a breath the doves lament in gentle mourning cries.

The night finds you bare of clothing except the rag over your shoulder, hued in shades of cobalt to sapphire that haunt your visions, smatter across your skin, and stain the creases of your fingers as you find release more than once with your hand throughout the throes of emotions that bubble up as you attempt to capture your obsession on the canvas. It is as fortifying as it is depleting, but every shade you could mix to recreate the ghost haunting your waking hours must flow from your brushes, neigh, your fingertips if necessary, aching to solve a problem that has burrowed beneath your being through any outlet availed to you.

While you do not require the rest of mortals, being blessed with dreams when you allow your vessel respite is something you would not regret in any lifetime. Yet, all you experience are hauntings of phantom touches where you crave them most until your mind is pulling apart even in your sleep. Waking in a fiery fit, you nearly incinerate the plain blanket barely covering your form. Tossing it aside in a wail of rustling resentment, exhausted to the extent that you do not even recall covering yourself before sleeping, the cool air greets your skin to pebble the sensitive parts of your responsive body.

A molten heat suffuses your face and bleeds to your chest as you pace your remote home. Choosing another path, the moonlight bathes your bare body as you walk out of the back to find solace in the ethereal lunar glow. You believe you may still be slumbering as the vision that greets you is wont to undo your sanity, but you realize the scale is rubbed warm between your thumb and forefinger as you come face-to-face with the figment of your obsessions. Surprised it even holds his large form, he sits perfectly unbothered in your favorite chair, nevertheless full of the control immortals possess to will particular worldly physics to their whim.

His blonde hair is hued icen, almost platinum-cyan, in the beams that sneak through the leaves around you, showcasing that he has chosen to be seen in no uncertain terms of his own. His contrastingly dark garb only emphasizes the otherworldly glow you can see plainly adorning his skin, not visible to mortals, but your eye catches it readily. You hold up the aforementioned scale you subconsciously brought along and slyness tugs the corner of your lips up in inviting banter to his raised eyebrow.

“A token with which to remember you by or,” you allow it to disappear from your person, “to locate me. Perhaps you should explain your intentions before I make assumptions as to which I am more perturbed by. What do you seek from me, Hades?”

He rises with the smooth certainty of a creature humoring another in a slow pace that makes the hairs on your neck question whether they should be standing, but your control is steadfast. Your eyes do not leave his as he approaches, gait assured in long strides that bring him before you with little preamble. Prepared for anything, willing for an outlet of bloody or carnal lust to lessen the humming building beneath your skin, you are instead gifted with the faintest caress to your fevered body. The flare of arousal between your thighs is inciting and unsettling as he looms closer to you, breathing you in with no attempt to hide it and groaning with the coalescing fervor it calls to his lungs. His fingers trail along your skin, drawing gooseflesh in their wake to your chin. He utilizes a touch delicate enough to leave flower petals unbruised, a sigh of air barely perceivable as he shifts you to meet his lips in answer to your acute questioning.

The way he kisses you starts off slowly, thumb making pointed contact with your jawline as he revels in the touches you share with burgeoning ardor. The connection stirs a longing that implores you to become intimately more familiar with the texture of his tongue as it lavishes along your own. You do not deny yourself the indulgence. He blinks down at you with those eyes that had haunted your memories and it is your will that the next blink you return is with you both in the comfort of your modest room. A chuckle leaves him in charming tones that ring with more than lust in your ear.

Of course, he should be more cautiously curious of the situation, of you and your capabilities, but, perhaps he is as equal parts impulsive and egotistical as his kin. You are an enigma to him that begs he unravels such a mystery with reverence. Was it ever the docile doe and predatory water beast, or was it always two hawks courting in a dance of raised feathers hidden beneath beguiling discipline? He finds the concern does not pervade his chiefest considerations, but the excitement of your vessel to his own certainly wins out.

You press forward in want, nude body contacting his clothed one as you take your time pulling the soft fabric from him without a touch of magic. You are taken with the inches of sin revealed at each removal, nipping the muscular plumpness of his chest, the divots of his abdominals, then the protrusions of his hips just shy of bloody. He is impressed with his own restraint not to devour you in return. The greed of most gods was legendary, inscribed in the multitude of colors even in your very paintings, but Hades was smart, steady, calculatingly inquisitive. He knows that rushing without better understanding his tentative opponent would not end well. This is how he chooses to know you.

It is easy to notice the way his cock grows hard in his loose garb, but the thwack and small splattering of prespend that spreads on his stomach as he pops out of the coverage is enough to make you drool. You bite your lip, audibly swallowing your hunger, eyes shy of weariness as you maintain careful vigilance for anything untoward. A bit of magic crackling awry in his lust pauses your hands for a beat before you reach out, seeking the thick heat you gleefully wrap your digits around. A hiss leaves him as his body bends to tower your smaller form, but none of this intimidates you, and he does not intend the possible disheartenment nor terror such a creature like himself could insinuate with a flick of his wrist or raising of his brow. Instead, you are gifted with a hue darkening his visage, openness you do not expect from an immortal.

Bright white teeth dig into the plush pillow of his lips, tone matching the swollen crown of his cock as the foreskin teases the ridges while you slowly scale the length. Nerves twitch from his thighs to his toes as you move with a swirl of your wrist as the beading wetness around his head spreads with the motion. You maintain eye contact with his lust-heavy lidded gaze as you work him up to a pique fit of pleasure, squeezing beneath his head as he shoots across the planes of your torso, a solid groan rumbling from his lungs. He watches closely as you mouth the remnants off your fingers, seeing the heat paired with resolute wherewithal in your irises. His tart cream is as otherworldly as he is and imbues a touch of his vitality and power that circuits your system, expanding your need into a hellish ache. It is only a taste of what you desire, teasing as it is informatively addicting.

Wordlessly, he accepts your proffered fingertips that share the gift he painted across your skin. Your own countenance lightens when he goes so far as to sink to his knees and lick up the remaining droplets scattered along your chest, tummy, hip bones, and upper thighs. Your delight is amplified further as he presses those stunning lips into light kisses, traversing until he connects with the dripping nectar at your apex. A breathy gasp flees without your consent, revealing your focal enthrallment breaking in otherwise welcoming surprise as he easily lifts your leg to wrap over his shoulder. So naturally, you have to do one better, and give only so much notice (none, that is) before utilizing the lip of the door arch in combination with your preternatural capabilities and grace to swing your other leg up, riding his shoulders as he works his tongue between your folds.

He does not falter in his actions, but adjusts so as to palm your cheek while his digits join his mouth to invade your depths with a fulfillment you crave. Your biceps flex to orchestrate the waving motions of your hips as you grind, those haunting eyes demanding your attention no matter his perceivably subservient positioning. Within those pools of thrashing waves lapping the shore of his widening pupils, you can glean the hunger that sings harmoniously in alignment with the emotions that start to seep into your awareness. His seed had been both a gift and unknown advantage to you. A little taste divinely lends itself to expanding your understanding of the ardorously compelling being cradled in the softness of your thighs.

"This vision of you is quite becoming."

You would draw him in your dreams, searing the image into your memories until you could recreate him blindfolded. You drop a hand to run through his silken strands, tugging him back from your cunt to avoid your undoing and admire the pearled dewdrops clinging to his lips as he keeps his wild eyes on yours.

"I could say the same of you, but I believe I've yet to see you at your peak."

The hand previously cupping your ass moves to his mouth before returning slightly over as his spit-slicked middle finger begins pushing against the tender taut muscle between your cheeks. You relax and allow him to sink in slowly, body accommodating the small thickness while your heels press into his back at the pleasing invasion. You maintain a tight grip on his hair as he returns to licking your labia and clit as if to drive you into a frenzy. It works, pleasure building into a tense gathering of magic and madness that he nearly begs for you to fall into like a beckoning abyss. Finding more assuredness in how he earnestly needs your satisfaction both in his gaze and thrumming emotions so salient to you, you cannot stop the snapping tension if you tried. Yet, why would you ever even deny yourself the vision of his plain happiness and eager hunger as you unravel at your core? It takes more of your willpower than you would admit to not harm him as your thighs beseech you to clamp tightly.

Hades is awestruck as he feels the bleeding magics radiating like ambrosial heat from your core, but he does not break stride in letting you ride out your rippling riptide that threatens to drag you under those waves. The intensity is enough to snatch your sight and consciousness from you. You should have known better than to let your libido lead your actions in the connective spell you use to bind him to you in tandem with his avid devouring, but he easily catches you with all the grace he effortlessly brandishes. When he realizes your heart beats quickly, but is gradually returning to a relaxed cadence, he sighs in a calm exhale.

"Perhaps next time, little wildfire."

A rolled piece of parchment is all you wake to hours later, tucked carefully into your bedding. It brings a bittersweet happiness to your mood when you search for the intimately forged connection between your souls, echoing a pulsing strum of longing that halts Hades steps when he feels it. He is hard as a rock a moment later and wondering what he has truly gotten himself into as he strokes himself to completion in his own bed deep in the underworld. You breathe through the shared arousal as your hand swipes your own end in tandem, encouraging you drift off again even as his expelled energy fills your stores.

#dionysian rebirth #immortal au #greek au #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #erwin smith #hades #ahhhhhhhh #seriously im really excited for people to read this one #>.>;;;;#attack on titan erwin #erwin x y/n #erwin x you #erwin smut #erwin snk #writing with kbee

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bored-mumma · 3 years

Text

Sebastian Stan - Fluff Alphabet

MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes version

A = Attractive. What do they find attractive about the other?

He loves your passion. How even little things in life can get you excited and happy. He also loves your strong will. You two being in the lime light takes a strong personality and you match that perfectly.

B = Baby. Do they want a family? Why/Why not?

He really wants kids. He likes to imagine Sunday mornings, your children waking you up and you all making breakfast before spending the day playing games and just being a close family. Nothing makes him happier than thinking of his future family.

C = Cuddle. How do they cuddle?

No matter how warm the nights get, Sebastian likes to be snuggled entirely under the blankets. Usually one of you will be spooning the other but if its too hot then just either your legs or arms are slightly tangled.

D = Dates. What are dates with them like?

Sebastian doesn’t do ‘little’ dates. He sweeps you off your feet every single time. You’ll come home from work expecting a normal evening at home to find some new fancy clothes and jewellery lying down on your bed, along with a note telling you what time to be ready by. Bang on time, Sebastian knocks on the door (you live together but why not be romantic and come pick you up like he used too) with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Before driving to a beautiful restaurant, champagne sitting there waiting. All evening he would throw compliments at you, repeating his love. If you felt like it, you two would go for a walk along the sea front or just drive randomly and talk away.

E = Everything. You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my light.

F = Feelings. When did they know they were falling in love?

He couldn’t really give a proper time when he knew he was falling for you. It just kind of happened! He knew he missed you when you were gone, even if you spent all day together. He knew he dreamt of waking up to your face everyday and he knew his heart skipped a beat every time you kissed him. One day he just realised ‘holy shit, i love you’.

H = Holding Hands. How do they like to hold hands?

I = Impression. First impression/s?

You two got along very well. Your personalities just clicked and the two of you became friends fast. It took a few months, but that friendship soon turned into love.

J- Joker. Are they into pulling pranks?

He loves them, a lot more than you did. Barely a day went by that Sebastian didn’t play some sort of joke on you. Usually you find it funny and playful but other days you want to slap his pretty face.

K = Kiss. How do they kiss?

Most of the time Sebastian will hold your chin with his finger and thumb, tilt your head up and kiss you deeply. Although sometimes he’ll be a little more rough and grab your waist, pulling you towards him.

L = Love. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

You do. After a particularly breath taking date and nearly six months together, you finally felt as though you were ready to say those words. When you uttered those words, Sebastian grinned at you before saying it back.

M = Memory. What’s their favourite memory together?

You two were walking home from a lovely date night a restaurant. You both had a few drinks so couldn’t drive and you were struggling to catch a taxi so decided to take a longer walk across the parks. It was a stunning night and half way home, he placed his jacket on the ground and the two of you lied down, watching the stars and resting your feet. Feeling merry anyway from the drinks flowing through you, you lied there for nearly an hour, just joking together and sharing kisses. Going from the last letter, this was the moment you looked up at each other and said I love you for the first time.

N = Nickel. Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?

You are so, so spoilt. Literally anything your eyes land on, Sebastian will buy it for you. Even stuff you had never seen or even heard of, if he thinks you’ll like it, he’ll buy it, Date night? He’s got you some new clothes and jewellery for it. Anniversary? You cant see the floor in your home from all the gifts. And birthdays are just insane with the amount of stuff he gets you.

O = Orange. What colour reminds them of their other half?

Sky Blue. A lovely calm, stunning colour that reminds him of summer days. Days he loved to spend with you. He would often buy you some sky blue jewellery, making a matching dress too.

P = Petnames. What petnames do they use?

You two are cringe as hell and like to think of the most sickening names for each other as possible. Bunny, sugar-plum, precious. Just as cringy as possible to make each other laugh.

Q = Quaint. What is their favourite non-modern thing?

Sebastian's a simple man and loves the simple things. One of those things is a gentle bike ride. On a hot day with the cold breeze cooling him, he loved to just bike through the country and forget about life's trouble for a while.

R = Rainy Day

A busy man leads a busy life. Rain or shine, his days barely change. Although on the rare days you both have a day together with nothing to do and its pouring it down outside, he was known to drag you out in it. Whether to just dance in the back garden or to go for a quick run, Sebastian loved to just be out in the rain for a while with you. It felt like a reset for you both and it was those moments you treasured the most.

S = Sad. How do they cheer themselves/others up?

As most people know, Sebastian talks to his therapist often. You try not to pry too much, knowing if he wants to share his feelings with you, he will. But you can always tell when he’s feeling a bit down. It’s usually cured with a cup of tea, cuddles and you dragging your nails gently across his skin to make him feel relaxed. Sometimes he’ll talk to you about what’s bothering him, other times he just wants to feel your touch.

T = Talking. What do they like to talk about?

You two are low key conspiracy theorists. You will often find you both having deep conversations about a theory you saw online or about a new documentary. Whether it was something like aliens exist all the way to the queen is a lizard, you two would have debated on it.

U = Unencumbered. What helps them relax?

As said above, he loves to feel your nails dragging across his skin. He felt most relaxed when lying in bed on his stomach, you lying beside him and dragging your nails along his spine. He would get Goosebumps from it and always felt like he could fall asleep right there and then.

V = Vaunt. What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

You and your career! Sebastian was your number one fan and would brag about your acting success every chance he could. Even if he’s doing an interview about his own movie, he’ll still slip in there how proud he is of your new project. He couldn’t help it.

W = Wedding. When, how, where do they propose?

It was your two year anniversary and you two decided to take a week off of work. Nothing special planned, just a week to relax and actually get to enjoy one another's company. Sebastian watched you with admiration as you cooked dinner, watching the way you sung along to the radio and how you refused to let him help, insisting on spoiling him. As you stood at the stove, Sebastian walked to the bedroom and grabbed a little box from his bedside drawers. Going back to the kitchen, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

“This wasn’t how i planned it,” He said, letting go of your slightly to open the box and show a beautiful ring. “But i couldn't wait any longer. Will you marry me?”

X = Xylophone. What’s their song?

wonderful tonight - Eric Clapton

Y = You. You are the ___ to my ___ (e.g. the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You are the honey to my bee.

Z = Zebra. If they wanted a pet, what would they get?

Sebastian has always wanted a dog! You two ended up adopting a puppy together.

#sebastian stan #imagine sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff alphabet #fluff alphabet #bored-mumma #fluff #sebastian stan alphabet

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yelenasdog · 3 years

Text

heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.” He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion.

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows.

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world.

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated.

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel.

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

xx hj

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lissacmonster · 3 years

Text

Wrong Place, Right Time

TMNT x (Gender Neutral) Reader (Non-romantic) Synopsis: Reader goes into an abandoned building to find their dog, and ends up finding a lot more than their dog. Rating: Teen Genre: Action/Thriller Pairings: None Content Warnings: The dog is in danger for some of it (but isn’t actually hurt) Other Tags: Funny, Combat, Short Story, Fanfiction, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Shredder

When you left your apartment that night, you had no way of knowing how unprepared you were for the events that would unfold. Armed with a flashlight and a roll of doggy bags you and your dog Cody had slipped out into the fresh, cool night air. You also brought a can of bear mace in case you ran into any creeps. Bear mace wouldn't have necessarily been your first choice, but it was leftover from the time you went camping and you wanted to put it to good use.

The dog was just happily sniffing around and relieving himself when he suddenly stiffened up. Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a cat. The cat was happily strutting across the street, unperturbed by the dog even as he began barking hatefully and straining against the leash. You held your grip and started pulling him back the way you had come. But he turned around, dug his heels in and managed to pull out of the collar.

The cat suddenly noticed it was in danger and darted around, looking for a place to hide. Cody followed the cat in circles around a parked car, then he chased it around the corner.

You ran after him, "Cody! Get back here!"

You were half angry, and half worried that he would run out into the street in front of a car. Instead, when you rounded the corner, he was wriggling his way into a boarded up building. His tail disappeared through the space in the boards just as you leapt forward to grab him.

"Cody! NO! Get back here, now!" You said, using your best angry parent voice.

But Cody was on a mission to find that cat. You knew that he would be single-minded until he found what he was looking for. It might have been admirable if you were coon hunting together out in the countryside, or something. Instead, it was annoying because you were on an evening walk in the middle of Manhattan.

You groaned in exasperation and looked up at the building. It was an old apartment building or something, a rough brick structure that was 5 stories high. The windows were mostly boarded up, and the ones that weren't were missing their glass. There were no lights on inside. It didn't look like anyone had been here for a long time. At least, nobody you wanted to run into...

And nobody you wanted your dog to run into either! Your protective instinct kicked in. You called through the hole to him for another 30 seconds. When he didn't reappear, you started looking around for a way in.

In the alley where you were standing, there were lots of bits of metal and you took a second to poke through them and find a good one. First you found a weird, 3-pronged dagger of some kind, which you tucked into your belt. Maybe you could use it for protection in case somebody dangerous was squatting in there. (Although, if you were being honest, you mostly kept it because you thought it looked cool.) Then you found a metal rod that seemed sturdy enough to work as a crowbar. In no time, you were squeezing through a gap you had made in the boards covering the doorway.

After clicking on your flashlight, you noticed that you were standing in an old lobby. There was a torn up spot on the floor where the front desk had obviously once been affixed. The wallpaper was peeling. The hardwood floors, which had probably been gorgeous when they were kept up, were covered in a thick layer of dust. Cobwebs were hanging in the corners and doorways, with their own gathering of dust.

You followed the sounds of Cody's feet skittering against the floors.

"Cody!" You whispered harshly, creeping towards him. If there were any questionable people around, you didn't want them hearing you guys. Luckily Cody wasn't raising hell yet, which told you that he must have lost track of the cat.

You spotted him at the end of a hallway.

"Cody, c'mere," You called, sweetly.

He looked you dead in the face and then turned and walked through a doorway into pitch black nothingness.

What. A. Brat.

Gazing down the stairway, you wanted to cry so bad. That damn dog had just run down into what must be the basement. You stood at the top, feeling sorry for yourself, trying to see down the steps. After a minute you realized that it wasn't actually pitch black. There was some kind of light that was dimly illuminating the bottom of the steps.

Gathering every last ounce of courage, you made your way down the steps. Every step creaked horribly, and with each one, you felt certain that your foot was about to sink through rotten wood. A dank smell invaded your nostrils more as you descended. How long did you have to breath black mold in before it would make you sick, anyway?

Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, you found that you were standing in a hallway. The floor here was even more dirty than the ground floor above. There was garbage piled all over the place. If anyone had ever squatted in this building, you were willing to bet that they'd done it here in this basement level.

A voice sounded from down the hallway. Your head snapped towards it in alarm, but after a few seconds it was clear it wasn't directed at you. It had come from a doorway at the very end of the hall which was slightly ajar, pale blue light spilling from it. You fought the urge to sprint back up the stairs and instead crept down the hall towards the voice. You tucked the metal rod into your belt and pulled out the strange dagger, ready to strike if someone suddenly rushed out at you. The voice was speaking again.

"...think you can defy me, turtles, but once again I've proven you wrong."

"You're not gonna get away with this, Shredder!" A second voice, female this time. She sounded scared. What were you walking into? You felt strangely numb as you continued to move forward, your heart pounding.

"I already have. Look at them! Once I have what I need, I'll dispose of you all," It was a deep, rich voice with a cold fury beneath.

"And then what? You took the mutagen out of our blood when we fought you years ago. So what could you possibly want with our blood this time?" Another male voice countered, sounding calm, but angry.

"Th-that's right! Our blood is free of mutagen, you can't use it to mutate anybody!" Another, nervous-sounding male voice agreed.

You reached the doorway and peered around the doorframe very slowly...

Within the room was some kind of makeshift laboratory. One bulb hung from the ceiling, casting the whole scene in harsh bright light. Several figures were visible in the large room. The first one that caught your attention was the huge figure in the center of the room. It looked like a man wearing a thick, heavy suit of strange armor. The armor had lots of sharp angles and spikes on it. You couldn't see anything else about him because he was silhouetted against the harshly-lit room. He was facing two figures who were lying on the floor.

One of the people on the floor was the woman. She had dark hair and eyes and was wearing a yellow jacket. Her hands were bound and she was glaring hatefully at the armored man. Next to her was another man. He wasn't talking, and he was lying very still... Was he ok? Or was he...?

You didn't finish that thought because you caught sight of four... somethings against the far wall.

They were... turtles, you guessed. But they weren't like any turtles you had ever seen. They were tall and buff with humanoid faces and bodies. Each was wearing a different colored mask, as well as various gear. They were strung up against the wall by lots and lots of chains. There was some kind of machinery connected to them, but it was hard to make out what it all was from this far away.

The spikey man- what had she called him? Shredder? He was speaking again, "I don't need to mutate anybody. All I need is your DNA, and I will have an unstoppable army."

"He's cracked, you guys," A new voice. It was gruff, and it came from the largest turtle, who was wearing a red mask.

"Oh no... I-I think I know what he's talking about!" The nervous voice was coming from the tallest one, in the purple mask, "He wants to clone us!"

"Is that true?!" The orange one finally spoke up, "Man, you can't make another Michelangelo! I'm the one and only!

"Stockman, how much longer before they're drained?" Shredder interrupted.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as an answer sounded out from very close to you.

"Another 2 hours, Mr. Shredder!"

"Why must it take so long?" Shredder asked, threateningly.

"W-well... We only had so much equipment..." Stockman defended, "I mean, there are ways of removing it faster, if you catch my drift. But if you want a clean, untainted sample, this is the best way to go!"

"Hmm... Very well." Shredder agreed after a moment.

You were now pressed against the wall just outside of the door, clutching your chest. That Stockman guy had been no more than 4 feet from you just inside the door! He was against the wall that you couldn't see, though, so you hadn't noticed him.

Stockman was talking again, more to himself, "Aw man... That cat got in again..."

A soft growling sounded from within the room. Oh god. Cody.

"What the..." Stockman started and then yelped, "HEY!"

His chair clattered to the ground as Cody's chorus of barks started up. You rushed back to the door and were frozen to the spot as you watched the scene unfold. It was utter chaos as Cody tore around the room after the cat, which was leaping around on the equipment and furniture. Cody managed to knock over 2 chairs, jump up on a table, and upset several important-looking instruments before he was caught around the neck by the monstrous man's hand. Cody's high-pitched cries snapped you out of it.

"STOP!" You hurled yourself forward. Everything in the room seemed to stop in time. All eyes settled on you and every face held surprise. Shredder's helmeted head turned towards you, observing as you sprinted toward him. You had the dagger drawn back with the intent to jam it into the metal of his stupid, shiney armor.

You didn't even feel it when he swatted you away like a fly. All you noticed was that suddenly you were flying backwards. You quickly sprung back to your feet. Your skin felt electric as adrenaline coursed through your body. There was a throbbing feeling in your face where he had struck you. The strange dagger had skittered out of your hands.

Cody was no longer in his grip, that was the good news. The bad news was that now you were getting an up close and personal look at this Shredder guy. You could see every facet of the armor from here. The most striking part was the helmet, which resembled a leering skull.

You wondered what his face looked like behind the helmet. Did he look as surprised as everyone else? His voice didn't betray any surprise, only amusement.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here... A new hero, come to save the world. Such a pity you’ll have to die."

You tried to keep your voice steady as you explained, “Look man, I don’t know what you’re talking about- I’m just here for my dog!”

"Really, turtles, is this weakling the only ally you have left?"

None of them answered. They were still staring at you and glancing at one another, like they were trying to figure out if they knew you from somewhere. This was getting awkward.

"No, really, I don't know them," You insisted.

"Is that so? Well, then, how do you explain that." He lifted one of his huge metallic arms. It took you a second to realize he was pointing at your shirt. You looked down and gasped.

Save The Turtles was emblazoned across your chest in bright green letters, complete with a cute little cartoon rendering of a turtle.

God damn it. Of course you had chosen to wear the shirt you got from that time you volunteered at the turtle sanctuary.

"Uh- that's-!"

Before you could explain it to him, Shredder cut you off, "ENOUGH! Stockman, restrain this fool."

"ME? I'm not here to be your muscle!" Stockman sounded indignant.

Shredder was just throwing out another line about how weak you looked, and that restraining you would hardly require "muscle," when you darted around him and over to the far corner where Cody was cowering. You had to climb around some equipment that seemed to be collecting blood from the turtles. You were uncomfortable being so close to them, as you had yet to discern whether they were friendly or not.

"Hey, that's my staff!"

You looked up at the turtle with the purple mask. He was peering down at you through glasses that made his eyes look 3 times bigger than they actually were.

You glared at him, "No, that's my dog!"

"No, I mean that thing on your belt!"

Was he talking about the metal rod?

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! DUCK, KID!" The one in the red mask was shouting.

You dropped instantly to the ground. A huge BANG! sounded from above and drywall rained down on you. There was a big piece of metal embedded in the wall where your head had just been. Cody scampered away, whimpering in fear.

"He's coming up behind you!"

You whirled around to find Shredder was advancing towards you. You glanced around for an escape, but you were boxed in by equipment.

Suddenly Shredder stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around. Stuck in his back was the dagger you had dropped. The girl in the yellow jacket was standing there, having plunged it into the battery pack on the back of his suit.

You stepped carefully out of the way of the equipment and cast around desperately for a way to help her.

"Quick! Use the staff!" The purple one called.

When you looked clueless, he clarified, "The thing on your belt!"

Oh, the rod! Great idea! You grabbed the rod, jumped on Shredder's back and started pummeling his helmeted head with the thing. This drew a chorus of complaints from the turtles.

"Aw MAN! C'mon, kid!"

"Duuuude, that's not funny! Kick his butt for real!"

Purple was fighting desperately to be heard over all the commotion. He sounded completely exasperated by this point, "No, I meant-! Press the button!"

What button? There were no buttons on the-! Oh, wait. There was a button on the rod. How had you missed that? You pressed your thumb down on small, red button. Instantly, both ends of the rod shot out, extending it by about 5 feet. In the process, it struck Shredder's helmet, launching it violently from the man's head. With a startled cry you toppled off of Shredder's back. The man rounded on you. You looked for the staff, but it had launched itself far out of reach.

"Now, I'm going to put an end to this little game," He said, and you could see the full extent of his fury on his face.

The four turtles were all shouting things and you couldn't make out any of it. All you could see was the hate in the man's eyes as he approached. His long black hair hung in his face untidily. He was panting and his lips were pulled back in an angry grimace. He looked like some kind of beast, like a lion, or like a...

"Bear!" You shouted suddenly. You tugged the bear mace out of the little pouch on your belt.

Shredder was towering over you now. He raised one of his bladed arms, poised to strike. Popping the top off, you raised the bear mace, pointed it at him, and pressed the switch.

Shredder was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of orange smoke. He roared and stumbled backwards. While he was distracted with that you scrambled to your feet. The woman was busy unlocking the chains that were trapping the turtles.

"Thanks, Angelcakes!" The one in orange said gratefully as he shrugged off all of the blood-collecting equipment.

He came over and stood next to you. You eyed him warily, but he was just looking at you with interest, "Hey, that was pretty rad how you stood up to Shredder like that! You pretty much ruled, even though you kinda-sorta... suck at fighting!"

Your pride had never been particularly tied to your fighting skills, so you just said, "Thanks. What's your name?"

"Michelangelo. But the ladies like to call me Mikey."

The two of you kept an eye on Shredder while the woman continued unlocking the turtles chains. You even sprayed a few more times in his direction when he got too close. Eventually he managed to rip the metal armor off of his hands so he could rub his burning eyes. Now he rounded on you again.

He looked truly out of his mind by this point, his blood red eyes were streaming and his face looked pinker than any face you had ever seen.

"Whoa... I think he's gonna-"

Before Mikey could finish, suddenly Shredder was charging at you. Mikey yanked you aside as someone barreled past you. The one with the red mask slammed into Shredder, colliding with him with the force of a refrigerator.

"Oh, shit! Is he ok??"

"You mean, Raphael? He's fine! He gets thrown into cars and stuff all the time," Mikey waved his hand dismissively.

Raphael rolled to his feet, pulling the dagger out of Shredder's back as he did so. He walked back to where you guys were standing, "Thanks for bringing one of my Sais, kid."

Things were kind of a blur from there. The turtles restrained the Shredder. The one with the blue mask was apparently the leader, and his name was Leonardo. He was on the phone with the chief of police. Wow... So your local police department was cool with these turtle ninjas? Who would have thought... Maybe your uncle's conspiracy theory about reptiles controlling the government wasn't totally crazy.

Donatello, the one with the purple mask, was attending to the man who had been lying on the ground when you came in. The man's name was Casey, and he wasn't dead as you had previously thought. He did have a pretty nasty concussion, though, and kept repeating the same phrases over and over (A common symptom with concussions, Donatello told you).

Don also took a look at your own injuries while he was at it. Your face was beginning to swell from where Shredder had struck you, and you would be sporting a nasty-looking bruise for a while. Other than that, you would be just fine.

After everything was said and done, and you had talked to the police, and Shredder had been loaded into an armored vehicle and hauled away, you and Cody were finally leaving to go home. You were back in the cool night air, walking your dog on his leash. You wondered if Cody would think twice about chasing a cat next time, or if the whole event had gone over his head? He definitely didn't look like he cared that he had just been in life-threatening danger.

Before you could ponder it much more, the brothers suddenly appeared around you.

"Heeeyyy, let us walk you home!" Leo offered aggressively.

"No, that's ok! You don't have to!" You really just wanted to be left alone now.

"We insist." The grin on Leo's face looked mostly threatening.

Leo threw his arm around your shoulder, as if to make sure you wouldn't run away, and started practically dragging you along.

They took you on the coolest shortcut you had ever been on. You scaled buildings and leapt across rooftops. It was just like in Assassin's Creed! Of course, they had to carry both you and Cody the whole way like a couple of carry-on bags.

When they set you down finally, you were in the alley next to your apartment building.

"Thanks guys," You said, "But how the hell did you find out where I lived?" You hadn't ever given them any directions.

"I have my ways..." Donatello said. He adjusted his glasses and they glinted dramatically like in an anime.

They were all kind of staring at you in a vaguely menacing way, "Uh... Are ya'll gonna... kill me because I know too much or something?"

"What the-! Of course not!" Donnie yelled.

"Hey, relax, buddy! We're not those kind of ninjas!" Mikey laughed, "That's not how we handle people who know too much!"

"Not any more, at least..." Raph said, narrowing his eyes at you, "The chief said it was too messy to keep covering it up."

You gulped nervously.

"Raph! Don't tell people things like that!" Leo shoved him and turned back to you, "Don't worry, he's joking. YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT RAPH?"

"I'M JOKING. JESUS CHRIST!" Raph yelled back, "Just, don't go runnin' your mouth about us, aight?"

The leader in blue leaned in uncomfortably close to stare into your eyes, "If you say anything about us, we will come back to see you..."

"Aaaand PUNISH YOU," Mikey added, "In a gentle, non life-threatening way!"

You put up your arms defensively, "Trust me, I am not telling anyone that I fought some kind of terminator samurai to save my dog and some turtles."

You thought you saw a twitch at the corner of his mouth before he straightened up and lead his brothers away. They scaled the walls of the surrounding buildings with ease, and then they had vanished just like that.

============================

Will you ever see them again? Would you LIKE to see them again? I hope so because I have a lot of ideas for this series.

Thanks for reading, ya’ll. It’s the first story I have finished in ages and it feels good to be back.

#tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt donnie #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt mikey #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfic

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rainywritingsx · 4 years

Text

hcs: kirishima, shinsou & bakugou holding out an umbrella for reader

Request: Could i ask for hcs for Kirishima, Shinsou and Bakugou x reader where she is standing outside drenched to the bone in the rain. He runs up behind her with an umbrella that is technically built for one. To conserve space, He pulls her as close to him as possible. 💐🕊

oh my gosh this is so adorable and soft, I caaanttt, this is too much for my poor heart to handle :(((((( also sorry that this request took so long, but first I wrote it thinking you wanted scenarios, only to find out you wanted hcs when I was about to post it lol. Hope you still like it tho! Have fun reading!

xxxx rainbow

If you enjy my writing and would like to give a little tip, you can buy me a coffee!! ^^

Words:1406

Warnings: Only some slight swearing

Kirishima Eijirou

Of course, the one day that you didn’t have enough time to check the weather for the day, it just has to be pouring outside.

You had studied at school for a bit with Uraraka, who left once she was done but you wanted to stay

and of course you forgot your umbrella

you have to go home tho, so the only option now was walking through the rain

however, after a while you’re already soaked from head to toe, maybe even getting sick tomorrow

After a while there is a stoplight, so you have to stop for a moment. Can’ that damn thing hurry up?

Suddenly, you don’t feel droplets falling on you anymore. With a small frown you lift your gaze, only to see an umbrella above your head

the heck?

that’s when, in the corner of your eye, you finally notice Kirishima

who sends you the sweetest smile once your eyes meet UWU

and this baby thinks you are just the most beautiful woman on earth, even when you’re totally soaked

but then you realise he’s getting wet now

“don’t do that, you’ll get sick!”

“Y/n, you’re the one who’s completely soaked at the moment.”

damn yeah he was right

“A true man wouldn’t let a lady he knows get sick instead of helping her”

stop it or i’ll melt

btw now that kiri was getting wet too, his hair fell down, his bangs sticking to his forehead

and you almost squealed at the sight bc he looks so cute!!!!

would be better if you weren’t outside where it was raining cats and dogs rn

“What if we share the umbrella?”

“it’s too small”

well dangit he can’t get sick either

so you pout and cross your arms as you take a step so that now you aren’t under the umbrella anymore

“If you aren’t standing under it i won’t either”

this boi cannot help but smile at how cute you are right now

he’s even blushing a little

after a small silence he gets an idea finally

it can go two ways but he will still try

bc he’s brave!!

he grabs your hand pulls you closer

not too close, you two aren’t standing against each other but still pretty close

and you become a blushing and stuttering mess

“now the both of us will be dry!” he smiles, almost resembling a puppy

well, it’s not like you mind being this close to him

so you nod

but actually, you aren’t completely dry, your back is still outside of the umbrella

and ofc best boy notices because he cares!!!!!

“Y/n, is it okay if I pull you a bit closer?”

“YES THAT’S MORE THAN OKAY.” you blurt out when he barely finishes your sentence

can you be any more cute to him?

he couldn’t help but cutely chuckle at your answer, but he was more than happy to hold you close

Hitoshi Shinsou

okay, tbh, the fact that you are now on your own outside, where it’s raining cats and dogs, is your own fault.

I mean, you decided to stop on your way home to pet some cute kittens

Not feeling like waiting, you choose to walk through the rain

curse those adorable kittens… their eyes were literally begging you to pet them

now because of that, you are cold, wet and tired because your clothes have become really heavy at this point

after a long silence, from the distance you can hear the sound of a car

when you look up, you see a car on the road, speeding into your direction

before you know it, its tires go through a giant puddke of water

as if you aren’t wet enough

as a reflex, you flinch and squeeze your eyes closed.

you hear the water splash, but you feel nothing?

you open your eyes, and are met with an umbrella that was held out in front of you

huh?

when you look behind you you see your crush, Shinsou standing behind you

though his action was almost heroic, his expression didn’t show that at all

“I see you’ve forgotten your umbrella again.”

jeez, okay,,,

“Well, it isn’t a long walk anyway. I can handle it.” you shrug nonchalantly

uhu, like you didn’t have an inner tantrum earlier

“yeah, you seem more than happy to walk through the rain.” he says, the sarcasm dripping in his voice

this jerk-

“fine, i guess I’ll just go.” he says after receiving no response

okay no an umbrella does sound nice

so you stop him

and well, he doesn’t leave

however, it catches your attention that shinsou isn't fully dry, so you tell him that

“why does that matter?”

“It’s your umbrella, silly!”

he’s a little lost on what to do at first

bc this boi kind of likes you and ashido kind of tolld him that but he did not believe it

but i guess our boy is feeling brave today

so he wraps his free arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him

to say that you are flustered is an understatement.

“w-what are you doing, shinsou?”

“You need to go home, and this the only way we will fit. Why, do you mind?”

“....no.”

maybe it was the fact that shinsou pulled you closer out of nowhere, but you decided to kiss his cheek before saying you two had to go now

and you bet he has this adorable small smile on his face the whole time

Bakugou Katsuki

as you walk through the rain, you can practically hear bakugou scolding you for not listening to him already

he told you it would rain today

out of frustration, you kick away a small rock that was on the pavement

but that was a bad idea

because it ends up on a puddle, causing you to get even more wet

I mean, does it matter? you’re already soaked

however, after a moment you realise the rain isn’t falling on you anymore

but you can still hear it ticking?

“What am I going to do with you….” oh, hehe, it’s bakugou

“Okay, maaaybe I should’ve listened to you.”

“You damn right should've, dumbass” he says and shakes his head in disappointment

without even saying anything else, he holds you against him

“I’m not going to get sick because you decided to be a complete idiot today.”

you can feel your whole body heating up, meanwhile his face isn’t showing a hint of emotion

is this really doing nothing to him?

little do you know bakugou is great at hiding his feelings

to an extent

he has a breaking point >:)

you can’t tell his heart is pounding in his chest, or that right now he wants to do nothing but kiss you

and feeling you this close to him gives him butterflies, he’s struggling to keep his cool

you move a little closer to bakugou and gently hold onto his arm

now this

this startled him

he’s about to curse at you until his eyes make contact with yours

“we’re gonna walk, aren’t we? I don’t want to fall.”

right

bakugou shook his head to think clearly again, and without saying a word he just started walking

now that you aren’t getting more wet, it’s actually nice to be in the rain

it was a little romantic even

also

of course bakugou’s reaction earlier didn’t go unnoticed by you

but still, jumping to conclusions isn’t always a good idea

it could’ve been anything else, right?

maybe you should do something to be sure

your gaze goes to bakugou, who’s looking straight ahead right now, not noticing you at all. or maybe he pretended not to

feeling bold, you stop him for a small moment and ever so lightly press your lips against his cheek

this boi

he almost drops the umbrella

now his cheeks were clearly red, and his ears seemed to turn a little pinkish

you cannot help but laugh at that cute reaction

but he didn’t say anything

so you feel bad again

“I-i’m sor-”

“Dammit, I wanted to take the first step.” he grumbles. oh. wait what?

you look at him, but for a moment he says nothing

“Let’s just go.” he mumbles as he pulls you a little closer uwu

and you bet he will make up for not taking the first step :D

even if you don’t care, he still does

be prepared for 10/10 boyfriend material :)

#bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou kasuki x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bakugou headcanons #shinsou headcanons #kirishima headcanon #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha headcanons

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years

Text

Extreme Aggressor: Part Two

Pairing: Eventual Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Summary: Jason Gideon is called back from a six-month leave from the Behavioral Analysis Unit to profile a killer. Meanwhile, the team flies across the country to Seattle when another young woman goes missing at the hands of "The Seattle Strangler," another serial killer.

Author’s Note: Here is it finally! After hard work, it is finally ready for your viewing pleasure! Please, feedback is always appreciated so let me know what you like about it and what you didn’t!

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

So without further ado, please enjoy!

After arriving at the police headquarters, you followed Gideon and the rest of the team inside the building. It still felt awkward between you and the rest of the team which is why you stuck to Gideon’s side the whole time. He walked fast throughout the building, and you did your best to keep up.

“He never stands with his back to a window. When I was between him and a doorway, he asked me to move,” Derek gossiped about your friend.

“That's hypervigilance. It's not uncommon in post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Just how much disorder are we talking about?”

“Morgan, it's been six months. Everything's okay,” Hotchner calmed him down.

“And he brings along a woman we don’t even know? How do we know we can trust her? I’m sorry, but she doesn’t mean anything to me yet,” Derek asked just as you passed them.

Looking at them over your shoulder, you caught Spencer’s eyes before moving on.

“Give her time. You gave me time,” he said, catching up to you. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. He’s right. I’m a stranger to you guys.”

“Hopefully by the end of this, you won’t be,” he smiled, walking into the main room with you that was crowded with uniforms.

“This is special agent Gideon, special agent Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes, special agent Reid—”

“Dr. Reid,” Gideon interrupted.

“Dr. Reid, our expert on well, everything, and the newest member of our team, Y/N Y/L/N. And after two years busting my ass in this office, I hope you all remember me,” Hotchner smiled with the laughter that ensured throughout the room.

“He's willing to travel with the body,” Gideon speaks, looking at the map.

“Then he drives a vehicle capable of concealing one,” Hotchner added.

“1 in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns an SUV,” Spencer spat out.

“But how do we know it's his car? Ted Bundy drove a VW Bug. What about a Jeep Cherokee? Jeeps are more masculine,” Derek voiced his thoughts.

“We all know how an unsub feels about asserting his masculinity,” Gideon chuckled.

“When did the bureau become involved in the case?” Hotchner asked the lead police officer.

“After the fourth body. He dumped that one out of state.”

While everyone was conversing and talking, you walked up the board with the recent pictures of the latest kidnapped victim, Heather. She went missing about a day ago which means she has about 24 hours left until she is dead—and the clock is ticking. Her image and the photos of the abduction site certainly does something for you, but it’s not enough. Reaching up to touch the image of her, you closed your eyes to see if you can get anything from a picture.

A flash of an orange car here, her heart rate increasing while inside the car, but other than that, you got nothing. It would be better if you were touching some of her things since the human body leaves traces wherever they go, whatever they touch. Since she wasn’t murdered, there isn’t a dump site that would give you even more clues and answers.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked when he saw you.

Opening your eyes, you lowered your hand before looking at him.

“I am trying to connect myself with her through a photograph. It’s not that common to get anything, but it does happen. I see an orange car and her fearful expressions, but that’s about it.”

“What do you need in order to get a clearer picture?”

“Her belongings. Every human leaves a spiritual trace wherever they go. It’s stronger with personal items.”

“Agent Gideon, where would you like to start?” one of the policemen asked.

“Let's start at the site of the last murder. Y/N, you coming?”

“I think I’ll get a better read on Heather and whether she’s alive or not if I’m with her things. I’ll go to her house.”

“Reid and I will go with you,” Hotchner announced.

Knowing you wouldn’t go alone, you bit your own tongue and followed the two men out the door. The fact that the Bureau provided government standard SUVs were pretty cool. It didn’t take long to go to Heather’s house, and when you arrived, you met her brother and the dog she owned.

“Sandy, no, no, no. I'm so sorry,” Heather’s brother, David, apologized when the big dog started barking and trying to playfully attack you three. However, when it came to you, the dog just stared at you silently.

“No, it's okay. It's what we call the Reid effect,” Hotchner stated, causing the young doctor to be confused. “I'm agent Hotchner. This is special agent Dr. Reid and Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N is fine,” you quickly added.

“You two look too young to have gone to medical school,” the man observed.

“They're PhD's. 3 of them. She has two.”

“Spencer,” you whispered softly to get him to shut up about it.

It’s not like you don’t want people to know you have 2 PhDs, but you just didn’t want the attention. Plus, if your dad knew you went to school to be a profiler in the FBI, he’d have your head.

“Are you a genius or something?”

“I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute,” he gushed. The man stared at him like he was crazy, so the young doctor just agreed. “Yes, I'm a genius.”

“Sandy, you get a lot of attention, don't you?” Hotchner asked the dog who just panted.

Instead of being with them, you took a look around the room to see if you can get a feel to the place. Heather’s spirit was here through certain items, but because there are more than one, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from. The conversation went on about her dog until it got back on track.

“David, does your sister drive a Datsun Z?” Spencer asked when he picked up a magazine.

“No, but she's in the market for one. How'd you know?” he asked, and Spencer held it up. David just shook his head and took his dog outside since she was getting antsy.

“There's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller, a certain level of trust. If I want to coax a young woman into my car, I’d offer her a test drive,” you said, causing the two men to stare at you.

Their bodies were emitting tension, and you knew they didn’t trust you at all. You needed to do something to prove to them that you were worthy enough to be on this team.

“Let me show you what I can do, okay?”

“Alright,” Hotch said.

Taking the magazine from Spencer’s hands, you closed your eyes in concentration. A multitude of pictures flashed through your mind due to the residue that Heather left behind, until those pictures turned into film. Heather was seated on the couch right behind Hotch and Spencer, flipping through the magazine happily. When she got to the page she wanted, she grabbed the red marker on the table next to her and circled the orange car a bunch of times. She then grabbed her money and began counting it to see if she had enough money to buy it.

“Heather is sitting on that couch, super excited to buy the orange car I keep seeing. She circles the one she wants with a red marker, and she starts to count her money,” you open your eyes, and began to flip through the magazine until you found the page you were looking for. “If I’m right, it’s this page she was on. She found someone with this exact car, and whoever took her did it because they got her to test drive it.”

The page you landed on was the same exact page with the red marker.

“Nice job,” Hotch complimented.

“That’s amazing,” Spencer muttered.

“Thank you. I just want to help, Agent Hotchner.”

“Please, call me Hotch.”

“Okay, then how about the fact that on one hand, we have paranoid psychosis, but the autopsy protocol says what?” Derek asked.

Back at the office, everyone was talking about the case and how the MO of this unsub didn’t make any sense. Derek was the one who was freaking out about everything since apparently not having a profile ready didn't bode well for him.

“Adhesive residue shows he put layer after layer of duct tape over his victims' eyes,” Spencer answered.

“He knows he wants to kill them, but he still covers their eyes. He doesn't want 'em looking at him, apparently. Okay, but then he takes the body and dumps it right out in the open, murder weapon nearby.”

“Not the MO of a paranoid convinced he's being watched or surveilled,” Spencer added.

Gideon stares at the drawing board while the rest talked about the case. Just by the look of his face, he was drowning out whatever they were saying. Even though you can get a read on his spiritual energy, that didn’t mean you could understand what he is thinking.

“Jason? What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, making sure only he could hear you.

However, he didn’t answer you directly.

“Alright, enough,” he interrupted the chatter in the room. “Let's tell them we're ready.”

“We're ready?” Derek gasped as Gideon left the room. The young genius started to write something down on his notepad, but the older agent wasn’t finished. “Reid, you're good with this? We've got a woman who's only got a few hours left to live, an incomplete profile, and a unit chief on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

“They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore,” you noted.

“It's called a major depressive episode.”

“I know, Reid,” Derek sighed.

Walking away from the board, you looked at Spencer quickly right before you left the room. Gideon gathered everyone in a conference room to deliver the profile and stood in the middle of the room with the tables blocking him in on three sides like a square. The rest of his team stood off to the side, and while Hotch, Spencer, and Derek were listening, you were watching the reactions of everyone in this room. If your abilities told you anything, it’s how untrustworthy even the most highly respected person could be.

“The unidentified subject is white and in his late 20's. He's someone you wouldn't notice at first. He's someone who'd blend into any crowd. The violent nature of the crime suggests a previous criminal record--petty crimes, maybe auto theft,” Gideon began. Running your eyes over every person in this room, you tapped into their energies to see what the normal eye couldn’t.

“We've classified him as an organized killer—psychopathic as opposed to psychotic. He follows the news, has good hygiene, and he's smart. 'Cause he's smart, the only physical evidence you'll find is what he wants you to find,” Gideon continued. The person right in front of you wanted to pay attention, but all of his focus was centered on his phone. He’s got some private issues at home that you rather not delve into right now.

“He's mobile, and his car in good condition. Our guess is a Jeep Cherokee with tinted windows. The murders have all involved rapes, but rape without penetration is a form of piquerism, and that tells us he's sexually inadequate.”

The person to your right is paying very close attention to what Gideon is saying, but she is focused on his lips and the way he talks which says that she’s attracted to him right now. That made you want to laugh because you knew for a fact that Gideon was seeing someone on the down low.

“What is it?” Spencer whispered when he saw the hint of your smile.

“That woman over there wants to bone Gideon,” you whispered back.

“How do you know?”

“I’m psychic, Spencer. I know more about a person than you think. Want me to do you?”

“No, thank you,” he whispered and got back to what Gideon was saying.

“Psychiatric evaluations will show a history of paranoia stemming from a childhood trauma—death of a parent or family member, and now he feels persecuted and watched. Murder gives him a sense of power. Organized killers have a fascination with law enforcement. They will inject themselves into the investigation. They will even come forward as witnesses to see just how much the police really know. That makes them feel powerful, in control. Which is why I also think in fact, I know you have already interviewed him,” Gideon finished, causing the entire room to feel shocked at the news.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner

#extreme aggressor #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm angst #season 1 episode 1 #s1e1

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pillow-anime-talk · 4 years

Text

mistletoe. {pt.1}

synopsis: A little joke on Giyuu, making gingerbread cookies with Edward and a date with Ryouta.

# tags: scenarios; christmas!au; current relationships; romance; fluff; sfw

includes: female reader ft. giyuu tomioka {kny} + edward elric {fma} + ryouta kise {knb}

part two {click}

author’s note: for @yvsevie, my precious smol baby. i love you.

— GIYUU

It was the first Christmas you spent as Pillar, as Giyuu’s girlfriend, and as teacher of your first and also last tsuguko. You didn’t mind spending Christmas like this; frankly, could anyone think of feasting at the moment when bloodthirsty demons and other strange creatures were running around each villages or towns? That’s why you spent your time training in your estate with a young boy who would replace your Ice Pillar position in a few next days, weeks, months or years.

“... We should take a short break, right?” You asked, seeing your successor breathing harder and harder. “I’ll go get something to drink and you can sit on the engawa.” You put your katana into its scabbard and then headed towards your home. However, when you entered the small kitchen, you chuckled at the sight of Giyuu who was sitting at the table, drinking his coffee as if he were at his own home. “Well, hello. Why didn’t you say ‘Hi’ to me earlier?” You asked, taking out two glasses.

“You were training, so I didn’t want to disturb both of you.” He replied calmly, setting the black mug on the wooden table. “Are you two finished yet?”

“We’re taking a break.” You poured cool water and then you stood in front of your dark-haired lover. “You would like to sit with us?”

“Yes, why not.” He smiled gently, then walked with you towards the entrance to the pretty, snowy garden.

When you got outside, however, your frowned as you determined that your heir wasn’t in the garden. Instead of his light blue haori and long blonde hair always pinned up in a ponytail, you noticed a little, white note. So, you picked it up quickly and read the content on the paper:

‘Sorry, sensei! I forgot that I had to help my mom bake a cake for Christmas! So see you tomorrow.

PS. Look up :D’

You frowned, and when you looked up at the wooden roof of your engawa, your cheeks automatically flushed a bit at the sight of a small sprig of mistletoe attached to a wooden beam with a thin string. Giyuu glanced at the same place, and seeing the little plant, he only smiled slightly under his breath.

“Your successor is quite funny, don’t you think?”

“Yes. It is true. He will replace me very well.” You giggled, letting your mouth taste the flavor of coffee and something sweet that you couldn’t identify at first.

Nevertheless, this little joke made you feel the magic of Christmas, despite the lack of a Christmas tree or gifts, and you were incredibly grateful to your beloved student for that.

— EDWARD

“... Edward! Stop throwing flour at me!” You looked imploringly at your fiancé, and he just giggled as he looked away at the huge, metal bowl in which he mixed hot water with powdered sugar to make frosting to decorate your cookies. You sighed softly under your breath, then returned to kneading another dough with your hands. After a while, however, you felt the white dust, commonly known as flour spread around you one more time. “E-Ed! Please!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Do it again and I swear you’ll sleep naked outside.” You spoke in a serious tone of voice, even though both of you knew you would never let him freeze to death, much less during the holidays, even more the first holidays that were supposed to be full of guests.

Alphonse and Mei with the smol panda were to appear! Also Roy with Rize and dear major Armstrong. Of course, Winry with her boyfriend, her grandmother and their cute dog were also invited. Gracia with Elicia cannot be forgotten. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis too and even Ling Yao with Lan Fan as well. There were supposed to be many of your loved ones, so you had to make just as many food, cakes and cookies. And Edward didn’t make it easy for you, because instead of helping you, he was throwing flour, sugar, cocoa and edible, colorful sprinkles or glitter at you.

Like for example now; once again you felt something hit your head and it turned out it was a handkerchief, rolled in a small but quite hard ball. So, your hands slowly backed away, then you wiped them on your red apron and you turned just as slowly towards your boyfriend, smiling at him as if you were telling him you were going to break his neck or crush his long legs. Edward, however, only chuckled and then walked closer to you with the same dumb smile he always had on his lips when he knew he had done something silly but funny.

“Sweetheart, don’t be upset. Christmas isn’t the time to fight! Better look up, my pretty angel.” His broad smirk made you sigh again loudly and loosen your tense arms. Nevertheless, you looked up and the first thing you saw was Edward’s hand holding a small twig of green mistletoe. You glanced at him again, laughing to yourself.

“How old are you to still play this?” You rolled your both eyes and was about to go back to your dark dough, but the blonde man grabbed your waist and pulled your body much closer to his more muscular one. He placed a tender, quite long kiss on your lips, and when the caress was over, Edward rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m old enough to still giving you stupid reasons to keep kissing me.”

— RYOUTA

“It’s... It’s so beautiful here.” You whispered under your breath as you looked around. “W-Woah. I...”

Kise took you for a ride in his car, however, two minutes ago he parked the car on the side of the road and then grabbed your smaller than his hand saying he had a little ‘surprise’ for you. Of course you went with him and it turned out to be a breathtaking view of the city, all lit up with colorful lights and sweet decorations. It was also snowing a bit so everything looked even more magical. You were incredibly surprised, of course most positively.

That’s why you turned to smile at the blonde-haired young man, and he only returned your facial expression, but then coughing delicately so that you would open the shiny eyes you closed a few seconds ago.

“You have a gorgeous smile and I love it the most in the world, but I think...” He started quietly, suddenly taking something green from his coat pocket. After a second it turned out to be mistletoe. You chuckled under your nose and your loved one looked at your flushed face again. “I think I deserve more, princess. All the more so because it’s Christmas day... You know.” He said in an amused, but still gentle and emotional voice, at which you only giggled again, standing on the tips of your toes or rather your shoes, to be able to reach his pretty face, and more precisely to his lips which tasted of coffee and chocolate-nut cake.

The kiss was slow, but very warm, and although your lips were cold due to the temperature outside, this peck gave the two of you a lot of heat on your hearts and cheeks. You even smirked during this wonderful caress, grabbing the boy by his soft, pale skin. The fabric of your wool gloves tickled Kise a little, but he didn’t pay much attention to it; instead, he kissed you once more, but this time on the nose that was red from the cold, and on the forehead, covered in the material of the cap, perfectly matching your gray gloves.

“... Thanks for showing me this, Ryouta. It’s really, really amazing.” You whispered, glancing once again at the colorful and white lights that decorated your whole city, including all the trees, buildings and houses. “I didn’t expect to see something like this in my life.”

“Then get used to it, because next year I’m going to take you to many other equally cool places.” The sincere tone of his smooth voice, and another short kiss on the cheek, made you cuddle closer to the side of his massive body.

In meantime, you still watched the magnificent sights and thought about where you both should go next time.

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madswritingvoid · 3 years

Text

Bootlegger

Pairing: Llewyn Davis x gn!reader

W/C: 1.6k

Warnings: Some swearing, sm**ches, but otherwise it’s still just fluff because Llewyn Davis makes me weak.

A/N: Okay so technically I played around with the state of bootlegs and access to recording devices but that’s fine we’re fine.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You bounce into your apartment, putting the groceries in your arms on the small kitchen counter. Met with silence, you take off your coat and hat and begin looking for that mop of curls you love so much. “Llewyn? Baby? Are you okay?”

You hear shuffling and a string of muttered curses come from your bedroom and smile to yourself, even in your small New York apartment Llewyn could lose himself in whatever new song he was writing or record he just bought. “Hi sweetheart, yeah everything’s okay, just - just stay out there for a second. I was doing some cleaning and now I fucked it up,” he calls out but you don’t listen.

Even though you moved in together five months ago, your one-year anniversary around the corner, you couldn’t get enough of him. If that meant sitting on your bed and watching him clean up whatever mess he’s made, you were more than happy to keep him company.

“Don’t be silly, it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into when I moved in. You’ve never been known for being cle-,” you freeze in the doorway. A sheepish Llewyn looks at you from across the room, sat in front of your turntable, every record between the two of you spread out in front of him.

“Honey, why are my records on the floor?”

“Well, I realized we always have my records out and yours just stay in that little crate in the closet… So I thought it would be symbolic or something to mix them together and make it our collection? I’m even alphabetizing them!” He proudly exclaims, lifting up the larger crate of records to show you the letter markers he’s made with cut up cereal boxes.

Your chest tightens, Llewyn has never been what people may traditionally consider “romantic”, but you loved him with your whole heart and knew he loved you too. Little projects like these may seem trivial to others, but you know this was just another way he was telling you he loves you.

“That’s a great idea baby,” you smile and walk over to the closet to get into some comfy clothes. Your last trip to the laundromat meant your favourite shirt of Llewyn’s was clean and ready for the taking, “why don’t you put something on for us while you keep organizing?”

He hums in agreement as he files through the stack of your records, his eyes immediately lock in on a record in a plain white paper sleeve with just the title in marker.

L.D. Gaslight ‘65.

“What about this one? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you put this one,” he holds the record up so you can see it from the other side of the room. Your blood runs cold as you Superman leap onto the bed, trying to snatch the record from him, “no no no no!”

“Whoa, baby! Slow down! We share everything, remember? You got me to admit I like Simon & Garfunkel, I promise whatever this is will not change how much I love you… Unless it sucks, then I might have to judge a little bit,” he teases, flashing you those big brown puppy dog eyes until you sigh in defeat. With a tiny nod from you and a reassuring kiss on the forehead from him, Llewyn carefully places the record on the player.

The comforting first crackle of the needle meeting vinyl fills the room and you’re taken back to that night at the Gaslight.

Jean begged you to come with her after Jim had to ditch her for an impromptu writing session in the city, still asking her to record tonight’s performers at the Gaslight with his fancy new tape recorder. He thought the next step for their duo would be to record live performances at the lounge, a bootleg of themselves, or some bullshit like that according to Jean.

“I know you’re not here because you want to be, lord knows I don’t, but I think tonight’s last minute line-up change might help.” You looked up at Jean, brow raised. Last you heard some marines-to-be were taking over the open mic, why would you give a shit?

There’s a tapping sound against the mic and you can’t help the gasp that escapes.

“Um, ladies and gentlemen, as you can see I am not a group of strapping young marines, but my name is Llewyn Davis and I hope you’ll still enjoy your night.”

Your head whips over to Jean who’s sporting a knowing smirk on her face. Even though she had her own past with Llewyn, she was as supportive as she could be with the new relationship forming between the two of you. The past month was full of you sitting on her and Jim’s couch, gushing over your latest coffee date or poem you found on your bedside table in his rushed scrawl. You had admired Llewyn from afar for so long you dove head-first into being with him.

You had it bad.

Llewyn’s eyes widen hearing his own voice. “... Baby? Did you make a bootleg of me?” You feel the heat rising until your face feels like it’s on fire but you don’t meet his eyes.

“N-No! Well, technically yes it is a bootleg of you. But I didn’t make it! I was there with Jean and you were performing, and I always thought you had a wonderful voice and we were just starting to talk and you were cute and and and -” he cuts you off with a soft kiss on the lips, pulling back so see the big grin he’s sporting.

“Since you’re so cute I won’t try and come after any copyright,” he laughs placing a reassuring kiss to your forehead, “but now you have to come and listen to this with me, voice cracks and all.” Holding his hand out to you, you slide off the bed and climb into his waiting lap. Your fingers automatically find their place among his crown of curls, Llewyn nuzzling his nose against your neck as you start to gently scratch his scalp.

His set only lasted twenty minutes but sitting in his arms, humming along to your favourite songs as he pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulders, you could have stayed like this forever.

“Thank you for sticking around. Up next we have Jane Lane, have a good night everyone.”

Knowing what comes next, you try to wiggle out of Llewyn’s grip, but he doesn’t let you go, tightening the arms around your waist. “What’s wrong? Did you catch someone talking shit about my set on the tape?” He chuckles, but you freeze, knowing it’s too late to stop the next part of the recording.

The audience gives a polite but unenthusiastic round of applause. You roll your eyes and wolf whistle, making sure Llewyn knows that someone out there loved what he just did.

“I don’t know why you bother. I get that you’re all goo goo about him now, but come on. He’s a Grade A asshole, always has been,” Jean scoffs as she notices how your eyes still haven’t left Llewyn.

You don’t even look over at her when you reply, Llewyn’s eyes finally meeting yours from across the smokey bar. You can’t help the large grin you feel coming, him giving you a shy one in return.

“I’m gonna marry him one day.”

The needle yanks itself off the still spinning record and you rush over to the turntable, quickly but carefully putting everything back in its proper place. “Okay, that’s enough of that for the night. They said they wouldn’t include anything after your set finished, but I guess that was a fuckin’ lie,” you mutter.

Refusing to meet Llewyn’s eyes you go through the motions of putting the bootleg back among your collection and putting on some Simon & Garfunkel to fill the silence surrounding you both. If he had just let you go everything would’ve been fine. You weren’t embarrassed by what you said, but it still made you nervous knowing that he heard it. You tried to play it so cool when you first started really talking, he didn’t need to know you loved him so much from so early on, you didn’t want to scare him away now that you were finally going to that next part of your relationship.

“Baby,” you will yourself to turn around, meeting those soft brown eyes you love so much. “Did - did you mean that?”

“That depends,” you shrug, “did it freak you out? Because if it did that’s an inside joke between Jean and me and man is it funny but now’s not the time to start explaining everyth-'' you can’t seem to stop rambling until Llewyn stands in front of you and takes your hands in his.

“Did it freak me out to know the person I would look out for every time I got up there to sing was into me? That I loved you so much from the start and now I know you felt the same? Nah, didn’t freak me out at all,” he places a soft kiss on your lips and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying the two of you to the song playing in your own little dance.

You don’t say anything after that, both of you just basking in the warmth of your love. There was so much more Llewyn wanted to say to you, but for now he just let himself relax into you. What you said didn’t just make him feel good, it made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

And it sure as hell made him feel ready to finally show you what’s been in the small velvet box he’s been carrying around for the past two months.

#llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis imagine #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis x you #llewyn davis x y/n #oscar isaac imagine

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franeridart · 4 years

Text

Anon said: [Spoilers for non-manga readers] opinion on Baku's hero name?

Very Bakugou, honestly don’t mind it at all! Mostly just surprised it’s, like, legal in the bnha universe for heroes to call themselves stuff like explodo-kills (and also that there isn’t a character limit for hero names??) but that Bakugou would stick with it is pretty damn in character for him so I like it xD still, I’ll probably just call him Dynamight if I’ll ever need to use his hero name lmao

Anon said: not to be the most romantic sap but uh just a kiss by lady a is killin me

Nothing sappy about letting romantic songs get to you!!!! I say, as I’m constantly crying over romantic songs so this mindset benefits me as well lol

Anon said: i may or may not have stumbled across some of your older kiribaku art, the stuff with akane, and she's the best child oc tbh. i actually like her and i tend to not be a fan of child ocs but she's just the cutest darn thing 🥰

I’m so glad you like her!!!!! She was a lot of fun, what a good gremlin ;;;

Anon said: uve heard of dragon!kiri w his hair spikes up, now get ready for dragon!kiri w his hair dowm lookin like the softest boy

AW HECK I think I’ve drawn him in the past, actually!!!! Spike-haired Kiri will forever be my fav Kiri, but there’s just something about hair down Kiri isn’t it!! What a cute boy ;;;; all sharp edges and soft curves, what a lovely sight

Anon said: can i just say your itafushi art is so cute? these two already make me feel and then your art just (つω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

THANK YOU SO MUCH I really need to draw them more, don’t I! goge kinda monopolized my attention there, but the way itafushi makes me feel..........boy the way they make me feel ;;;;

Anon said: good day, poké au thought: 12 y/o bakugo somehow catches a dreepy as like his 2nd pokemon and never questions it

WHY NOT WHY NOT I have a whole team in my mind for the boy tbh but dreepy is so cute ;;;; and anyway, I like my poke!bakugou with as many dragon types as he could possibly get his hands on hahaha

Anon said: Please know that, amongst other factors, you were one of the maon reasons I stsrted Jujutsu Kaisen two days ago and there isnothing more to say except thank you and I'm absolutely in debt with you for that, thank you so much 😍

I’m so so SO glad you’re liking it!!!!!! It can get kinda heavy but it’s such a great story.... honestly I’d been wanting to start it since I saw the first pv for the anime all the way back last year but I was like, you know it’s a mappa anime! so I wanted to watch the anime as a new thing, cause I love mappa, but three episodes in I couldn’t hold back and just binged it. It’s kind of story that just makes you wanna drink it all in one go, isn’t it? so good so good

Anon said: makeup artist kirishima and model bakugo or makeup artist bakugo and model kirishima? :0c

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm can’t say I see either of them much into fashion tbh, but if I had to pick probably model Kiri and artist Baku? I just don’t think Baku would be able to stay still enough to get photographed, and he wouldn’t like the photographer bossing him around anyway, and catwalks would be impossible for him to stomach imho, he’s too restless for it! At least it’s the way I see it haha

Anon said: fdgdhdkfhdafs i had a thought, what if bakugo prefers dogs and kirishima prefers cats and when they meet each other and become friends it's like, "oh." because they have some striking similarities to their fave animals

That’s been my headcanon for a while now, actually!! I think for me it came from two characters in a manga I like that are a lot like a dog and a cat but have inverted fav animals and when I read about that I was like “oh, right, makes sense since they like each other” and then my brain turned it krbk because when does it not lmao

Anon said: your art is the soothing balm to my soul recently, thank you for posting so much beautiful content. i hope you have a lovely week. ♡

sob thank you so much, I’m glad my doodling can help you feel better ;; <3

Anon said: Friendly reminder anon from last time: that post I left last time I had only eaten 7 gingersnaps that day and hadn’t drank any water. So that encouraged me to actually self care. Thank you.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! well I hope you’re taking care of yourself today too! And as fair trade, I’ll do the same myself! <3

Anon said: Hi! I'm an artist and I'm thinking of making a sideblog for my art. Do you have any tips?

Ah man, I’m sorry but I’m not the best person to ask this to! I started this sideblog cause I had too many followers on my main and I didn’t want my stuff to be seen by that many people at first, so whatever I did probably isn’t what you’re looking for :( but really there isn’t much to it, just post whatever you like to draw, tag it as best as you can (but remember that only the first five tags appear in the search page) and be patient, since whatever you do at first you won’t get much attention anyway - the only real advice I can give is to draw something that makes you happy and that you’d draw anyway even if no one were to see it, it’ll make keep posting despite a possible lack of activity a lot easier!

Anon said: Your goge art🥺🥺

I just love them so much ( TT’’’TT)9

Anon said: how the fuck have i not been following you? I remember seeing your bakushima art in the bnha tag and always thinking it's so cute. Now you're into JJK too??? and the satosugu art??? fuckin, diabetes incarnate. I love it. I love you. Your art 10/10. I'm tired lmao.

WELL thank you for the follow!! And for thinking my stuff is cute!!!!! I do my best with that, I want all the soft things for my favs 😌

Anon said: Are you gonna draw Gojou/Getou comic?? 👉🏻👈🏻 WOULD LOVE TO READ IT

you mean an actual doujin? I don’t think I will, sorry! I’m really no good at long projects orz but thank you so much for wishing to read something like that from me!!! ;A;

Anon said: Hello! YOUR ART IS SO FREAKING GORGEOUSSSS!!! I love them so much!! If I may ask you one question. Between Getou amd Gojou, who do you see as top/bottom? Just curious

THANK YOU!!!!! And I honestly don’t care as long as they’re happy and together!!! please let them be happy and together 🙏🙏🙏

Anon said: i want you to know!!! i followed you for your kiribaku art but!!! i love your art so much that idc what you post because it's all just!!!! incredible and wonderful and stunning!!!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!! this means a lot to me so seriously thank you so much!!!!

Anon said: d'you think bakugo has like headaches or migraines after training or battles because of how loud his quirk is? like, i listen to music slightly too loud and my head is sending me to hell. (unless you go with the hoh hc which is also 👌)

I like to think Baku’s body is attuned enough to his own quirk that he wouldn’t get drawbacks of the kind tbh, though that wouldn’t be a bad thought for when he just starts to increase the output/width and strength of his explosions............ well, I myself suffer from chronic headaches and migraines so I’m always up for projecting on my favs ngl lmao

Anon said: so like... dragon kirishima's eyes glow right? like, if we equate his dragon-ness to unbreakable his eyes glow? they also glow when he's half shifted? honestly i just live glowing eyes

Oh hell yeah I’m all for that, definitely definitely, I love glowing eyes with my whole heart and Kiri’s eyes in unbreakable are just so!!!!!! NGH *chef kiss* the more of unbreakable there is in his dragon form the happier I am ( TT^TT)9

Anon said: me, scrolling through your blog: ah shit guess im gonna have to start watching jjk

!!!!! hope it won’t hurt you too much, anon!!

Anon said: dragon!kiri and bakugo having a tug-of-war match over a piece of meat. both have it in their mouths. both are determined to win.

Kiri is turned into his dragon form and Baku still wins, hell yeah

Anon said: your satosugu is top tier!! it's hard to find stuff for them that isn't straight up angst so your art has been super cool and also very very cute!! (tho if you went with angst, it wouldn't be a bad thing obviously)

AH I’m so happy to hear you like them!!!! but also happy you wouldn’t mind angst, as I do like them the best happy and soft but my brain, my brain has been throwing sads my way for a while now 👀 I got some ideas

Anon said: What program/device do you use??

Easy Paint Tool SAI and a wacom intuos!! Though I got myself an ipad+procreate just yesterday and I’ve been messing around with it, let’s see how that one goes!

Anon said: *inahles* i am simping for mohawk man please tell me everything about your ocs immediately or i will detonate

THANK YOU FOR LIKING HIM HE’S CALLED DAVIDE Dav for short, he’s a cat of a man and a music instrument enthusiast (mostly string ones, but he’s very good with the piano as well) - he works in a music instruments store, and he’s a uni student majoring in philosphy! He doesn’t like bothersome things, he isn’t very good at taking anything seriously or putting effort in stuff, but he’s very chill to spend time with and generally a nice chat both if you want mindless thoughts or deep conversations (he’s a philosophy major after all). He can’t sing for shit, he’s got two cats (tago and schelly!), and he just wants a quiet life to laze around but all his friends are hurricanes in human bodies, but then again, he picked them himself so he can’t complain. He’s a good boy!! I’m planning a comic for him and his boy Ross >:]

#fran answers #SORRY FOR THE DELAY #i wish i could say i was busy but actually i just got distracted #ah also #jjk spoilers #cause my sis has a habit of readin my asks and she can't know about the otp just yet #lol #is the readmore for this showing? this is pretty damn long....#long post #just to be sure

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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years

Text

🔥Now & Forever🔥

A/N: RIGHT HERE, STEP RIGHT UP FOR SOME ANGSTY SHIT PEOPLE, BC I APPARENTLY HATE MY OWN HEART. Okay, it’s not all angsty, it gets fluffier towards the end but this one is pretty heavy so be prepared! Inspired by the absolutely fantastic @ackermans-freedom-inc! Go check out their stories if you haven’t already, they are definitely one of my favorites and they are super talented, hence why I was inspired to write this based on one of their fics! Enjoy!

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Tongues & Teeth” By: The Crane Wives 🐉

~~~

(Y/N) suppressed her giggles behind her hand as Levi pressed more kisses to her stomach, humming in contentment as he nuzzled her skin. Shocked wouldn’t even begin to describe how she was feeling, watching her normally stoic husband act so soft. He had always lowered his walls around her, his wife, the one person he felt comfortable being vulnerable around, but he had never shown this much emotion. It was like she was looking at a whole new man, a smile spreading across her lips until they ached as pride filled her chest at how far he had come.

When (Y/N) had first met Levi all those years ago, he was a thug. A criminal who couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old, fighting to survive in a world that had spat on him from day one. She had been out walking her dog that day, enjoying the cool autumn breeze as she had rewarded herself with a couple of hours to relax after acing an exam she had taken earlier that morning. It was her dog that had noticed him first, a handsome black labrador she called Caspian, his ears perked up and a low growl in his throat as the boy who looked to be around her age had stalked towards them, constantly checking over his shoulder as the sirens from distant police cars had wailed louder and louder.

(Y/N) had noticed the look of panic on the boy’s face when the cars had rounded the corner, his face paling even more than it already had been. She had been able to tell he was probably dangerous, had obviously done something illegal, but something about the fear in his expression had twisted her insides more than the knife he could have possibly had and used against her ever would. Making her decision, (Y/N) hadn’t hesitated when he sped by, trying to outrun the cars before they saw him. She had reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning him away from the road and grabbing his coat, simultaneously handing him Caspian’s leash.

“Hey babe, I’m cold, could I borrow your jacket? Thanks!”

She had been impressed that despite his shock, he had managed to shake it off and nod woodenly, playing the part as he had grabbed ahold of Caspian’s leash and shrugged off the rest of his jacket. The cars had sped by, completely ignoring the couple on the sidewalk as (Y/N) had slipped into his jacket and leaned into his body, humming happily and thanking him with a sappy look on her face. It had only been when the police had rounded the corner that she had let him go, grabbing her dog back from him but keeping his jacket draped over her shoulders.

“Why did you do that?”

“You just looked like you needed a break.”

Ever since then, the pair had been inseparable, meeting together more and more until they eventually confessed to each other. Afterwards, (Y/N) helped build Levi up, allowing him to actually make a life for himself and giving him the chance to open up when the emotions he had were too intense for his mask to hide. He was lucky he had so many skills from his time on the streets, allowing (Y/N) to give genuine recommendations to jobs for Levi, until he finally got hired at a restaurant as a waiter despite his complete lack of job experience.

From there, he was able to climb his way to the top, earning his own money and scraping together any job experience he could get until he was finally able to get the education he needed at a reputable university, getting a degree in business and marketing before starting his own company. (Y/N) had continued with her own degree, working to become a criminologist so she could continue to help people just like Levi. Despite their busy lives and completely different worlds, Levi had never forgotten the girl who had given him his start in life and (Y/N) had never forgotten the bad boy who never left her bored or neglected, life always an adventure when she was with Levi, the two getting married a few years after they both had stable jobs working for their respective careers.

More kisses fluttering against her skin brought her out of her thoughts, another smile flashing on her face as she looked down to see Levi pressing his face against her abdomen, his arms looped around her waist as she leaned back into the headboard of their bed.

“Levi,” (Y/N) giggled when he started murmuring soft words of love to her stomach. ��There isn’t even anything there yet, not really, it’s only been a few weeks.”

“I know,” Levi said against her still flat stomach, his husky words sending sparks along her spine. “But it’s still something. I just…, I don’t know, I guess I’m just happy to finally have a family.”

(Y/N) was a pile of goo at his sheepish confession, running her fingers through his soft raven locks as she sighed happily. “I’m really excited too, Levi, and I’m happy you’re happy.”

“Oh, I am,” Levi purred, making (Y/N) shift as his deep voice made her core melt. “I’m scared, really scared of fucking this up, or something going wrong, but I’m really happy. Thank you.”

(Y/N) leaned down and he met her half way to give her a warm kiss, her fingers lightly scratching his scalp as he sat up more to better tangle his tongue with hers. Her soft laugh at his enthusiasm quickly turned into a choked out moan, her hands tightening in his hair as he crawled to his knees, pressing her back against the headboard.

“Hmm? What’s this?” (Y/N) asked coyly, breaking the kiss and using one hand to run her fingers down his chest, teasing just shy of his groin before trailing them back up, smiling at the half-hearted glare he threw her.

“I was just thinking…” Levi murmured, leaning in for another kiss. “That I should show some appreciation for my beautiful wife,” he kissed her again. “A reward for this wonderful gift she has given me.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) said breathily. “And what if I wanted to give my amazing husband a reward for all of his hard work? I didn’t create this baby on my own, you know.”

Levi gave a low, keening moan at the feeling of her sucking on a spot just below his ear, closing his eyes and gripping her waist tighter when she started circling her finger around the arousal growing in his pants.

“I think,” he panted. “I have a solution that will work for both of us.”

“Oh yeah?” (Y/N) asked cheekily, biting her lip when she felt his hands leave her waist to creep under her shirt, his rough, warm palms cupping her soft breasts. “Why don’t you show me what it is?”

Levi gave a wicked smile. “With pleasure.”

__________________________

Levi didn’t know what time it was, only that it was late, going by the darkness that still filled their room despite the opened shades, but he found he didn’t even have time to think about it as he felt the cool edge of a blade against his throat. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to know what it was, the feeling ingrained in him from his days as an orphaned boy on the streets. His entire body froze but he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to give his attacker any further reason to sink the blade deeper into his throat. He felt a few tiny drops of blood seep from where the knife rested against his skin, and resisted swallowing to keep from rubbing against the sharp edge.

Without thinking, his left hand immediately flew out to lay across (Y/N)’s body, not caring about anything but protecting his wife to the best of his ability, even with a knife to his throat. While he’d like to avoid it, he knew he’d gladly die to save her, even if that meant never getting to meet the little bundle of joy he had been eagerly waiting for ever since (Y/N) had told him, tears in her eyes while she beamed at him.

“Thought you could keep me pinned down forever, huh?”

That voice, filled with a seething fire, coupled with the feeling of his arm hitting nothing but thin air and empty sheets hit him simultaneously, his eyes flying open to see the face of his wife hovering over him, one hand holding the knife to his throat while the other was holding a sheet against her body, hiding her naked form.

“(Y/N)? What the hell?” Levi managed to spit out, trying to wrap his brain around the situation.

“What? Didn’t think I was strong enough to fool you? I can’t remember what happened last night, but that doesn’t mean I’m too confused to defend myself.”

“Defend yourself? (Y/N), what are you talking about? Defend yourself from who? Me? I’m your husband, why would I-”

“You are not my husband, I’m not married. Don’t try to fool me with some cheap ass tricks. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Levi flinched at the pure hatred in her voice, but forced himself to stay calm. Something was obviously wrong, but he wasn’t going to get any answers by panicking.

“(Y/N), it’s me, damn it! It’s Levi! We’ve known each other since we were teenagers, we’ve been married for four years and we are having-”

“I said to stop pulling that cheap shit on me!” (Y/N) screamed at him, her teeth gritted as she pressed the knife ever closer to his throat. Levi’s breath hitched as he fought the tears back, but he was fighting a losing battle. What was going on? Why was she acting like this? They had had their fights just like any other couple, but she had never screamed at him like this, like she loathed him with every fiber of her being.

“It’s not a trick, (Y/N), I love you!”

“You can’t love someone you pulled out of a bar for a quick fuck,” (Y/N) spat. “Was that what happened? Or did you break into my house and knock me out when I wasn’t looking? Or did you drug me? Get me to trust you just enough to drink something you gave me before dragging me to your house to use as you please?”

“(Y/N), I would never use you-”

“Then what the hell do you suggest happened!?” (Y/N) shouted, her voice cracking a little as she spoke. “I’m not an idiot, I can feel the aching between my legs, the bites on my neck, the dried spend on my inner thighs. Not to mention, I woke up naked. What? You just wanted to bring me to your bed, strip me down, and then watch me sleep? You had no desire for sex at all when you brought a strange, unconscious woman into your house and ripped her clothes off?”

Her voice was starting to shake now, her breathing heavy and tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She still had that fiery look, like she wanted to kill him, but she was starting to lose her composure. Her whole body shook, and she had to keep readjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her naked form, the cloth slipping from the sweat that was starting to coat her palms.

“You can lie all you want, make up this bullshit about how we’re happily married and I’m just delusional, but I won’t fall for it. You’re a fucking monster, you know that? I didn’t ask for this, to be taken advantage of when I was incapable of making my own decisions or protecting myself. If I wouldn’t go to jail for it, I’d send you back to the hell you came from right now,” (Y/N) pressed the blade slightly deeper into his skin as she spoke, her eyes glittering with fury and a desperate sadness.

But no matter how far she sank that knife into him, it was the words she spoke that stabbed him deeper, sinking into his heart and twisting it until he almost couldn’t contain the will to cry out. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably now, his expression displaying his need for a solution, anything to make this nightmare end. Not just for himself, but for (Y/N). He absolutely loathed the idea of her thinking he’d ever do anything to her that she was uncomfortable with, but he hated the idea of her thinking it was real more. If she truly believed he had assaulted her, used her for himself, that could prove to be more traumatic than anything he was dealing with currently.

“(Y/N), I-”

“How the fuck do you know my name? You keep saying it, did I tell you before I was knocked out?”

“(Y/N), listen, you were never knocked out! I know your name because I’m your husband! You have to believe me! I would never hurt you, never!”

“I warned you,” (Y/N) said, leaning so close to him he could feel her breath hitting his face, her fingers twitching on the handle of the knife as if she were fighting the urge to slide it across his throat and end this once and for all. “Not to tell me this fucking story all over again. I would remember if I was married, that’s not something you just forget overnight. I don’t really care about what happened to lead up to this, the point is that you did what you did, and now you’re going to pay for it.”

Levi didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he had to do something before things got even worse. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of what he was going to have to do, Levi closed his eyes and brought his knee up, hitting her ass and sending her flying forward. Tilting his neck to avoid the bite of the blade, he used her state of unbalance to knock her off of him, flying out of bed and slamming the door to their bedroom behind him. He held the door closed as she pulled and pounded against it, whimpering quietly with every scream of hatred she spewed at him. Reaching over, he managed to grab a nearby chair and used it to jam the door shut, confident she couldn’t get out. He thought about the windows but knew she wouldn’t be able to escape through them, their bedroom on the top floor of their house too high off the ground for her to jump or even climb down safely.

His hands were shaking as he quickly dialed the numbers of his two closest friends, not even apologizing for the late hour as he quickly explained the situation to both of them. He hoped that with Hanji’s medical experience as a doctor and Erwin’s experience as a detective they would be able to shed some light on what could possibly be going on with his beloved wife. Hanging up at their promises to come immediately, Levi slumped against the door to their bedroom, his head in his hands as he finally let himself cry.

___________________________

Transient Global Amnesia. Levi stopped breathing as Hanji gently placed a hand on his shoulder, sitting him down in a nearby chair. It was nothing more than a sudden, spontaneous bout of amnesia that wasn’t triggered by a stroke or neurological disorder. There was no real cure for it and while it tended to only be temporary, that wasn’t always the case. He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pass out.

“How is she?”

“She’s… coping.”

Levi visibly cringed at Hanji’s words, and while the friend part of the brunette almost immediately regretted telling him, the doctor part of her knew he needed to know the truth. At the moment, (Y/N) did not remember anything about Levi, or where she was, or her relationship to him. They hadn’t even told her about the baby yet, too concerned she’d do something rash if she found out before she had been calmed down.

“What is she doing now?” Levi asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Erwin is with her right now. He’s trying to convince her that the neighbors heard a commotion and called him to investigate, which led to your “arrest” and that we are here to save her.”

Levi snapped his head up, his eyes furious and his mouth opening to speak when Hanji interrupted him.

“I know what you’re going to say, Levi, and don’t worry, we have a script planned to prove your innocence should her amnesia continue so she doesn’t continue to think you took advantage of her. But this is the only thing we could think of that would let us get close to her without her thinking we were “in league” with you. Do you understand? We didn’t want to paint you in a bad light, but we had to if we wanted to keep her from hurting you or herself.”

Hanji avoided bringing up the idea of the baby getting hurt too, knowing that would just pour more salt on the wound. Levi wasn’t stupid, it was clear he was very aware of the fragile situation they were all in at the moment, it wouldn’t help to make him even more stressed with information he already knew.

Levi was quiet for a moment but eventually nodded, closing his eyes and placing his head on his fist, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair, trying to process everything he was being told without breaking down. Hanji took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.

“And um…, I’ve organized everything so that (Y/N) will come to live with me for a while. I want to keep an eye on her and it’s obvious she can’t really stay here.”

To her surprise, Levi just nodded, letting loose a silent sob that Hanji pretended not to hear, for his benefit. When his body started to shake, she placed her hand on his shoulder again, using her other hand to lift his chin up so she could look into his eyes. Her heart clenched when she saw the pain and despair swirling there, her normally stoic best friend showing more vulnerability than she had ever seen him display for anyone other than the woman who currently thought he was a monster.

“Listen, Levi. I promise you right now, both as a friend and as a doctor, that I will do everything in my power to make sure everything goes back to normal. I can’t promise that it will, but I do promise that I will work until I die trying, alright? You may feel like the world is against you right now, but you are not alone.”

Levi closed his eyes and nodded, murmuring his quiet thanks as Hanji made to leave the room, her phone pinging with Erwin’s text saying he finally got her calm enough to transport. “Make sure to stay in here until we are gone, okay Levi?”

Levi didn’t respond as Hanji left the room, only sitting with his head pressed against his fist as he listened to the sounds of Erwin leading (Y/N) to Hanji’s car, each murmur of comfort from his best friends to his wife like another dagger to his bleeding heart.

_______________________

“(Y/N)? Are you okay in there?” (Y/N) heard Hanji call from behind the bathroom door. Closing her eyes, (Y/N) answered that she was fine, too busy with fighting another wave of nausea to formulate the words necessary to convey that she was indeed, not fine.

When she finally felt the roiling in her stomach calm down, (Y/N) flushed the toilet and washed her mouth out, nearly vomiting again just from the taste on her tongue. When she was finally certain that she could close her mouth without gagging, (Y/N) took a deep breath and sat on the now closed toilet lid, trying not to cry.

Hanji had been unbelievably kind and supportive, letting her stay at her house until she got better, using her medical skills to check her over in her comfortable living room rather than in the daunting, harsh environment of a hospital. She had let (Y/N) borrow her guest room and had provided her with any clothes she had needed during her stay. She felt…, comfortable. Safe. But she couldn’t deny that she was still shaken after her whole ordeal with the raven-haired man.

While it was clear he had known her name, she didn’t know his; didn’t know anything about him other than he had assaulted her and been taken into police custody for it. While part of her was viciously happy at the thought of him behind bars, another more confusing part of her was screaming at her to help him, almost as if something inside her knew him in a way the rest of her didn’t. She quickly shook off the feeling, focusing on the satisfaction of knowing he was getting a just punishment for his actions, hoping she’d be the last in what she assumed was a string of his victims.

But even when she was being taken care of by a nice, talented doctor, and her captor was being sent to jail, and she had a handsome detective on standby to protect her at a moment’s notice until she was cleared by Hanji to go home, the incident still made her want to scream, to cry, to curl into a ball and forget everything. She could only find some semblance of comfort from the thought that she couldn’t remember the assault, too drugged out or unconscious to remember any of what had happened that night.

But a week and a half had passed since then, and with each day of consistent vomiting, and hormone changes, and random food cravings, (Y/N) had the horrible suspicion that she was pregnant. Again, a strange part of her felt warm and tingly at the thought, as if she had planned for this, making her groan in pain and frustration. She really hoped she didn’t have some resemblance of Stockholm Syndrome, his looks and charisma making her feel as if she were in love with him despite what he had done to her.

Another knock sounded on the door, followed by Hanji’s concerned voice. “Are you sure, you’re alright, (Y/N)? I’m worried about you, hun.”

“I’m coming,” (Y/N) said, her lip twitching at the concern in Hanji’s voice. She couldn’t express her appreciation for the surprisingly energetic woman, how sweet she was without pitying her, how gentle she was without treating her as if she were made of glass.

Washing her hands quickly, (Y/N) unlocked the door and joined Hanji in the kitchen where she had made her some pancakes with bacon, no eggs at (Y/N)’s insistence after the smell of them on the first day had sent her running to the bathroom.

“Thanks again, Doctor Zoe,” (Y/N) said when the woman forked the bacon onto her plate, the doctor waving her hand dismissively at her gratitude.

“It’s really no problem, (Y/N). It’s my job to take care of you to the best of my ability and that’s what I’m going to do. You’ve been through a lot, you deserve to feel comfortable and relaxed,” Hanji said, trying not to cringe at the way her once best friend called her name so formally. It wasn’t a lie, she had been through a lot, it just wasn’t what she knew (Y/N) was thinking.

The thought made Hanji want to cry, knowing how much it was hurting both of them. She had met with Levi the other day under the guise of getting more groceries, wanting to check on him as both a friend and a doctor, only to find a wreck of the once proud man she knew. She had come into his home, an alarm bell going off in her head when she noticed he hadn’t cleaned in days. Finding him on the couch, messy and hunched over, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess as he stared at a photo of the two of them horseback riding together, had almost broken her. She had relented a little, giving him a hug despite the grunt of annoyance he gave, a watery smile forming on her lips as he still managed to show his disdain for her hugs, but it had quickly disappeared when he started sobbing quietly, his shaking shoulders telling her before his tears did.

Shaking her head a little, Hanji pushed the image to the back of her mind, using it to fuel her determination to get (Y/N)’s memories back rather than letting her depression take over. She had to do this, for both of them, no matter what.

“Hey, Doctor Zoe,” (Y/N)’s quiet voice snapped Hanji out of her musings, prompting her to look around the corner from where she had been cleaning the kitchen to look at her patient, fighting the tears back at how weak she looked. So different from the best friend she had known and lost.

“Yes, (Y/N), what is it? Are you hurting somewhere?”

“Doctor Zoe…, I think I might be pregnant.”

Hanji froze, her eyes widening.

Shit. Shit.

Hanji still hadn’t told her, had been too afraid to. She hadn’t even known how. How do you even begin to explain to a person that they were pregnant with a baby they had planned for and consciously made with a person they now believed to be a sexual predator? She had spent days mulling over how best to explain it to her, but now all of that was thrown out the window. She had been so focused on everything else, she hadn’t even considered the fact that (Y/N) might figure it out for herself.

(Y/N) noted the look on Hanji’s face, her eyes narrowing. Her lips parted for a moment, shock flying across her face before she schooled her expression, her eyes hard. “Doctor Zoe…, you know, don’t you? I need you to tell me the truth.”

Hanji swallowed hard and made her way slowly over to the table, (Y/N) standing up to meet her half way, her gaze never leaving her doctor’s face.

“Doctor Zoe, tell me right now. Am I pregnant with that monster’s child?”

____________________________

Hanji took a deep breath as Erwin parked the car in front of Levi’s house, a shuddering sigh passing through the detective as well.

“Thank you for being here, Erwin,” Hanji whispered, unrestrained tears streaming down her face.

“It’s no problem, none at all. I know you’re going to need some serious help with this one.”

Hanji hummed noncommittally, her brain screaming at her to turn around, to drive away, to hide in a dark corner and cry. She had no idea what to expect other than sheer chaos, but she knew she had to do this. If she didn’t do this now, she knew nothing could compare to the sorrow he would feel later.

“Let’s go,” Erwin said, placing a hand on her shoulder, his icy blue gaze meeting her chocolaty brown ones, his anguish apparent.

Hanji nodded, placing her hand over Erwin’s before they both slid out of the car, rejoining to hold each other’s hands, supporting each other so they could support their hurting friend, as they made their way to the door.

Entering without knocking, knowing it was unlocked, Erwin and Hanji didn’t have to look to know where to find Levi, heading straight for the living room where he had spent the past week and a half, never gaining the strength nor the desire to go anywhere near their bedroom. They found him looking blankly out the window, not even turning around when they entered the room.

“Any news?” Levi asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Actually, yes,” Erwin sighed.

“Really!? What is it!?” Levi suddenly perked up, racing over to his friends, his eyes wild as he looked between them, not daring to let hope sing in his veins in case it wasn’t the news he was looking for. After a moment, he was glad he didn’t.

“Levi,” Hanji choked out, tears springing to her eyes as she spoke. “She found out about the baby, but her memories still aren’t back to normal. She…, she wants to… she wants to terminate it.”

Levi felt the world shift beneath his feet. Stumbling back, his chest was heaving and his heart was screaming as his body sagged against the wall.

“No…, no, no, no!” Levi whispered over and over again, shaking his head. Not their baby, not the bundle of joy they had been trying for for so long, not the light that had surprised them a month ago with their presence, making Levi and (Y/N) feel the happiest they had ever felt. “No, no, no, no…”

Hanji hugged herself, hanging her head and ignoring when her glasses clattered to the floor, not even checking for broken lenses like she usually did when they came off her face. “A-And she said that…, she said that I’m the only one she trusts to do it…,” Hanji gasped, tears streaming down her face in waterfalls.

Looking up, she caught Levi’s eye, his expression unreadable as she watched him. The intensity and uncertainty in his gaze broke the normally energetic, steadfast woman, Hanji sinking to her knees as she sobbed into her hands.

“Levi, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry! I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to take this from either of you, but I don’t know what else to do! I know that if I don’t agree to it that she’ll find someone else, someone who doesn’t know the situation and won’t hesitate to perform the procedure. I’ve told her for now that I have to think about it since I don’t do those procedures often and I want a full health report back from her psychologist, but I can only put it off for so long,” Hanji sobbed, leaning into Erwin when he kneeled down to hold her close, petting her hair and making soft cooing sounds.

“Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, it’s the woman’s choice, it’s her body, but this situation is so fucked up! I know this isn’t what (Y/N) wants because she made this baby with the man she loves, her husband, and if she gets her memories back and finds out what I did to her-”

“Hanji,” Levi’s voice snapped her out of her ramblings, shocked to find Levi kneeling in front of her, his hand titling her chin up gently. “This isn’t your fault. Thank you for everything you’ve done in taking care of her…, and me.”

Levi looked away, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. Reaching up with his free hand, he touched the barely noticeable mark that was on his neck from when she had cut him.

“I want you to know that it’s okay. You’re right, this situation is fucked up, but we’ve been backed into a corner. As much as I hate it, as much as it will fucking kill me to have this happen, I will not force her to go through with something she doesn’t want. Especially something of this magnitude. We can wait for her memories to come back, keep trying harder to help her, but if they haven’t returned by the time her psychologist reports come back as sound…,” Levi couldn’t bring himself to say it, but his friends knew what he meant.

Leaning forward, Erwin and Hanji opened their arms and brought Levi in close, the raven-haired man tensing for a moment before melting into their comforting hold. All three of them sat on the floor of Levi’s living room, the dying sun staining the wood red as they cried, holding each other tightly as they silently begged for things to finally get better.

_____________________________

(Y/N) gave a wry smile as Hanji handed over the reports she had gotten in the mail, all of them from the psychologist that had carefully examined (Y/N) after her incident. While most of them had random information about therapists in the area and available medications from trauma, the page she really focused on was the paper that declared her mentally stable, even after such a traumatizing event. She would still need to heal, but she had been deemed mentally and emotionally capable enough to make her own decisions.

(Y/N) subconsciously placed a hand over the very slight swell of her stomach, letting out a sigh as she looked up at Hanji. “Thank you Doctor Zoe, for everything.”

Hanji merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she shook (Y/N)’s hand, as if she hadn’t spent years hanging out with (Y/N), going out to bars together, and taking some of their general education classes together when they first started college. As if she hadn’t gone to (Y/N)’s wedding and gotten drunk off her ass at the reception, giving one of the most hilarious and simultaneously heartfelt speeches she had ever given, much to (Y/N)’s entertainment and Levi’s embarrassment.

Hanji couldn't stop it then, the tears springing to her eyes before she could hold them back. She could see (Y/N) tilting her head in confusion, could see her eyes widening in alarm through her blurred vision, but she didn’t have the ability to explain, her throat closing up.

Before (Y/N) could even ask what was wrong, Hanji launched herself at the poor girl, ignoring her squeak of surprise as she held her close, sobbing into her shoulder. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I am so so sorry…,”

“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?” (Y/N) asked incredulously, only making Hanji cry harder.

“Hey.”

Hanji opened her eyes at (Y/N)’s soft voice, blinking at the sight of her once closest friend leaning down in front of her, holding her face in her palms. “Why are you crying?”

Hanji sniffled and managed to swallow the lump in her throat, forcing the words out. “I just…, I know this will sound strange but,” Hanji sighed. “I love you, (Y/N), and I’m going to miss you.”

It was like (Y/N) was struck by lightning, the words clanging through her, her entire body tingling as she froze. Everything. She felt, heard, saw, everything. She remembered. She remembered going to college with Hanji, hanging out with her on the weekends as they studied together and teased each other about their various crushes. She remembered meeting Erwin when Hanji brought him around for dinner one night after she had been pulled over by him on the way to (Y/N)’s house, the dazed cop not expecting to get a date and a free meal out of giving someone a speeding ticket.

And she remembered Levi. Her beloved husband. She remembered meeting him, getting to know him, going on dates together, their wedding, and of course, the day she told him about her pregnancy, the way he had smiled the widest she had ever seen, tears in his eyes as he crushed her to him, thanking her over and over again for giving him the family he never had as she beamed bright enough to rival the sun.

Hanji had felt (Y/N) stiffen, heard the gasp that had ripped from her throat and quickly released her, berating herself for letting her emotions get in the way of her logic. (Y/N) still had no idea who she was, it was as if a near stranger had given her a hug and claimed they loved her. Of course she was freaked out, and after everything she was already dealing with, this was the last thing she needed.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, that was a really unprofessional thing to do, I know you’re probably confused and-”

Hanji was cut off by the feeling of (Y/N) wrapping her arms around the doctor’s middle and holding her close. Hanji’s eyes were wide and she held her breath, hardly daring to hope. “(Y/N)?”

“Hanji, it’s me, I remember! I remember everything!”

“Y-You do!?”

“I do,” (Y/N) said, lifting her head and looking up at her best friend, her eyes shining brightly with love and recognition.

“(Y/N)! YOU’RE FINALLY BACK!” Hanji screeched, hugging her friend back tightly, making sure to stay aware of her slightly extended belly.

“I’m back,” (Y/N) murmured, rubbing her face into Hanji’s jacket, relishing in the feeling of knowing her best friend again.

“How?” Hanji asked in awe, her eyes shining with fresh tears of relief and joy.

“Your words! When you said, ‘I know this will sound strange, but I love you’, it snapped me out of it! Those were the words Levi used almost exactly to confess to me when he finally realized he felt something more for me than just friendship,” (Y/N) said, beaming brightly.

“I’m so glad you’re back, (Y/N), I missed you so- OH MY GOD, LEVI!” Hanji suddenly screamed. “He doesn’t know yet! We have to go tell him right now!”

(Y/N) immediately pushed away from Hanji, having completely forgotten in her moment of clarity and excitement that Levi was still alone at their house, had been for two weeks. Scrambling to the car, Hanji wasted no time in throwing the car into reverse before tearing out onto the road, calling Erwin as they drove.

____________________________

Levi was staring out the window when he heard his door explode open, causing him to glance back despite the fog that rested over his mind and body. He figured maybe Hanji had finished with the procedure early and was coming to console him, or maybe it was Erwin, coming to make sure he didn’t do anything brash.

When he turned, he found he was partly right, his two best friends standing in the entryway to his living room, but for the first time in weeks, they had silly grins on their faces, their eyes bright with joy and tears of relief.

“LEVI!” Hanji screamed. “(Y/N), she remembered! She remembers everything! (Y/N) is back!”

Levi’s eyes widened and his body tightened, waiting for this to just be some sick dream. His breath caught and he struggled to get the words out, to ask for the confirmation he needed, to make sure what they were telling him was true.

“Levi!?”

That voice. Full of concern and desperation and-

Love.

He hadn’t heard her voice sound like that in so long, and his body went weak at the sound of it. “(Y/N)!?” His voice was strained with his desperation to see her.

“Levi!”

Tears immediately sprang to his eyes when his wife finally rounded the corner, her own eyes widening at the sight of him. Letting out a strangled cry, (Y/N) bolted at him, Levi rushing to meet her head on, before crushing her to him, his arms wrapping around her in a way that told her he was never letting go.

They were both sobbing, Levi crying into her hair as she cried against his chest, scrunching the fabric of his shirt in her fists. Levi was quieter than (Y/N) in his relief, but filled with no less emotion, his heart finally being pieced back together at the feeling of his beloved wife back in his arms again.

“Levi, Levi, oh gods, Levi,” (Y/N) whispered over and over again between sobs. “I am so fucking sorry for everything I put you through, for everything I said, none of it was true, I promise. I don’t know what happened but I remember you now, and I love you and I missed you so much. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Levi muttered into her hair, his deep voice calming her fried nerves. “It wasn’t your fault, I’m here now, and I’m never letting you go again, do you understand me? I love you so fucking much, baby.”

(Y/N) buried her face even deeper into his shirt, her body shaking against his in her relief as Levi murmured “I’ve got you,” repeatedly, gently rocking her from side to side. Hanji and Erwin watched for a moment before leaving to give the couple some privacy.

“Is the baby okay?” Levi asked after a while, pulling away only to check her all over, his hands gently feeling over her skin with featherlight touches.

“Yes, yes, the baby is fine,” (Y/N) said, a tiny bit of bitterness in her voice as she remembered what she had asked Hanji to do before her memories came back. “I can’t believe I almost-”

“Shhh, don’t think that way. You had every reason to want to when you were in that situation, but you’re here now and we are all safe.”

Levi brought her back into a tight hug, the two of them sinking down onto the couch together, (Y/N) shifting to curl up in his lap.

“I love you, Levi, I love you so much. I’m sorry I ever called you a monster, and said those horrible things about you, and t-tried to c-cut you…,”

“(Y/N), remember what I said? It wasn’t your fault. You can’t have any regrets, alright? I’m okay, you’re okay, the baby is okay, and we are all together now. I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you both, now and forever.”

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