#and I think that’s what you need but ah well I know you’re stubborn so I’ll just do whatever you want me to do’

[designernishiki]

tbh out of the games I’ve played all the way thru thus far (0, 1, 2, 3) I think y3 is by far the strongest in regards to kazumaji content/implications, at the very least when it comes to majima’s feelings and displays of affection and whatnot. like. it’s legitimately hard if not impossible to adequately explain some of majima’s actions in this game as anything other than being out of way-beyond-platonic love for kiryu and it makes me want to slam my head against a wall and scream

[moonstruckme]

hey :)) first off, i love the hozier caption in your bio. second, I’ve been reading so many of your fics recently and i think you’re sooo talented! i wanna be like you when I grow up (im 20 almost 21 lol)

anyways, I’ve never really requested anything but i wanna give it a try. I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader fic or a just remus x reader fic where’s she’s driving and accidentally hits an animal and is really upset about it but they’re there to help to her move it and comfort her.

i just hit a cat and im not taking it well. we think it was just a stray cause I left my number with it in case but no one has called. my family kinda, but not really, made fun of me for being so sad about it and i kinda just need something with the guys being so affectionate and loving with her after everything.

it’s totally okay if youre not up to it! I understand that it’s such a hard topic so I won’t be offended if you don’t feel comfortable writing in this.

thank you again and im sooo looking forward to youre future work!! you’re talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before (lady gaga)

Mwah mwah mwah <3<3

-aves

(sorry this is so long)

Hi sweetheart, thank you so much! (Is your username a Lizzy McAlpine reference? I love that) I'm really sorry you went through this, I've been fortunate enough to have never hit an animal but I've seen it happen and it's so horrible, I'm really sorry you've been dealing with this :(( I think you did the right thing by leaving your number with it, and I hope the weight of that trauma and grief is starting to lift off you my love. Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of killing an animal, reader feeling guilty

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

James hears the door and is up instantly, bounding down the hall to greet you and Sirius. 

“Hello!” he calls ahead, eager for company after being left alone in your flat for over a half hour. “You guys took your time today, I thought even Remus might beat you home. Was traffic a riot, or…”

Sirius is looking at him with panic in his blue-gray eyes, clearly trying to convey one of those telepathic messages James has never been great at interpreting, and you…you’re looking at nothing. Your gaze is distant as you work off your shoe, the area around your eyes puffy and gray with smudged mascara. 

“Hey,” James breathes, then feels stupid. It sounds like he’s accusing you of something. He tries again. “Is everything okay?” 

Sirius gives him a look that says What do you think? and crouches beside you to help with a stubborn knot in your shoelace. Your hands are trembling, James notices. Dread settles like a stone in his stomach.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius murmurs to you, fingers gentle as they intercept your own, but the alarm doesn’t leave his expression as he watches your face. Ah. As much as it kills James to see you upset, Sirius will have no idea what to do with you in this state. Tears have always set him on edge. 

James squats, joining the two of you on the floor. “Hi, sweetheart.” He does his best to keep his own anxiety out of his voice as his hand finds your ankle, fingers wrapping around the bit of skin between the hem of your jeans and your socks. “Has something happened?” 

Your eyes meet his already full of tears, and James braces himself. Sirius does too, by the look of it, his shoulders tensing as he watches your face like you’re about to crumble away to nothing right here on their doormat. 

“I—” That’s all you get out before you have to bite down on your lip to keep from crying. A tiny whimper escapes, and spider web cracks spread across James’ heart. A sluggish tear leaks from your right eye. 

“It’s okay,” he swears, though he has no way of knowing it. You press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to quell the sobs that shake your frame even with no air to feed them. “Oh, honey.” James leans forward, wrapping you in an awkward but very heartfelt hug, your knees between his chest and yours but your head crossing the distance to wet his shoulder with your tears. 

A sympathetic pressure builds in James’ sinuses, but he does his best to breathe through it. Stability tends to help you more than sympathy in these situations, and since Remus isn’t home yet, it’s left to James to be the reasonable one (Sirius would have all sorts of jokes to make about that, but he doesn’t seem to be feeling up to them either). 

He gives you a few moments of reprieve, a few passes of his palm up and down your spine, before trying again. “What’s going on?” he asks, gently as he can. “You guys are scaring me. Sirius?” 

Sirius’ brow pinches like he almost doesn’t want to say it either, and the anticipation in James’ chest heavies. “We were driving home,” he says slowly, keeping a wary eye on you lest he worsen your upset, “and a rabbit ran in front of the car.” 

Relief nearly chokes James at the same time as a sympathetic sorrow takes ahold of him. He pets the back of your head. You tremble with the force of your crying, leaning into his touch greedily. 

“She was driving?” he asks quietly, though he’s nearly sure. If your reaction isn’t enough to go off of, he already knows that you usually pick Sirius up from work and drive the both of you home. 

Sirius nods. 

“It doesn’t sound like there was anything you could do,” he murmurs to you, cupping the back of your neck to encourage you to look up at him. You do, sniffling as your lip quivers, and James uses his thumb to brush a wet streak of mascara from your blotchy cheek. 

“It must have been so scared.” Your voice breaks on the last word and James’ heart along with it, leaving a throbbing wound in the center of his chest. 

“I doubt it had time to be scared, honey,” he tries to reassure you, but his own voice is fraught. He looks to Sirius. “Did you…do you know if it…passed?” 

Sirius is half hiding behind his hair, a sure tell of his disquiet, and it brushes his shirt collar when he nods again. “We weren’t sure at first, so I got out to move it off the road. It was dead.” He winces at his wording, and you bite down on your lip harshly. His tone softens as he addresses you. “I really don’t think it felt any pain.”

You look nowhere near ready to believe him, and James is preparing to offer to make you a cup of tea and let you sort out your grief at your own pace when the front door opens again, stopping when it hits Sirius’ side. 

“Oh.” Remus pokes his head through. “Hello. Why are we all sitting on the floor?” 

Sirius scoots the rest of the way out of the door’s path before deciding to stand instead. He speaks to Remus in a low voice while James runs a hand up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. He locks eyes with Remus over your shoulder, watching as the taller boy’s gaze takes on the weight of understanding. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Remus wraps Sirius in a half-hug, kissing his surprised boyfriend on the temple before stooping beside you. “That must have been awful to have to see. Let’s get you up, yeah?” He wraps a spindly hand around your forearm, more encouragement than anything, and James grips your other hand as he stands to pull you up with him. 

Neither of them seem quite willing to break contact with you, walking you over to the couch like a newborn fawn despite your murmured I’m okay. Sirius follows close behind. The both of you look like you’re perching rather than sitting, unable to completely relax even now that you’re home. 

“It must have been quite a scare,” Remus sympathizes, sitting on the edge of his favored armchair. 

“A bit,” Sirius mutters, and your throat bobs. 

Remus cocks his head. “What’re you thinking, darling?” 

James almost wants to look away at the rawness in your expression as you raise your eyes to meet Remus’. “I just…I can’t believe I killed it. I’ve never” —your voice pitches, and you swallow again— “I’ve never killed anything before.”

 “It was an accident,” James tells you, beseeching. 

“You couldn’t have stopped,” Sirius says. His voice has an odd, desperate quality to it, and James sees Remus notice it at the same time as he does, both boys leaning forward to see Sirius better. For the first time, James notices—had he missed it before, or has it only just started?—that Sirius is trembling slightly too. James’ free hand twitches instinctively toward him, but his dark-haired boyfriend is only touchy when he’s in a good mood. He’s not keen on physical comfort; no matter how many years James has worked on him, Sirius has always preferred to keep his struggles internal. “Or avoided it,” he goes on. “It happened too fast.” 

Remus nods at you. “As awful as it is, these things happen sometimes. Hopefully,” he adds when another tear slips down your cheek, “never again to you, but selfish as it is, I’m glad you didn’t slam on the brakes or anything else that could have gotten you and Sirius hurt instead.” 

You glance at Sirius, and he gives you a weak smile, taking your hand and squeezing gently. 

“Nothing you could have done,” he whispers. 

Your lips tremble again. James watches as panic flashes in Sirius’ eyes, but he keeps it together. “I’m really sorry,” you tell him, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t have made you take care of the bunny by yourself.” 

James' chest aches as Sirius takes a steadying breath. “You were frazzled. Understandably upset,” he corrects himself, squeezing your hand again. This time you squeeze back. “It was a one-man job anyway.” 

You make a soft sound, leaning your head on his shoulder, and James has the sense something has settled a bit in each of you. He raises your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of yours as Remus’ eyebrows furrow. 

“Have you had a chance to wash your hands, love?” he asks Sirius, who blinks.

“No. I forgot.” 

Despite the heavy atmosphere, James actually feels the beginnings of a smile tempting his lips as he watches Remus forcibly quell his horror. “Right, then. Why don’t we go do that in the kitchen now, and I’ll make us all some tea.” 

“Good idea,” James says heartily, swiping his thumb back and forth over his own kiss on your hand. “Hey, could we take out the good cookies as well?” 

Remus hums what James chooses to interpret as assent, shepherding Sirius into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” you say to James once the other two are out of hearing. 

He looks down at you. “What for, sweetheart?” 

You shrug, your shoulders remaining just a tad too high after the motion. You’ve stopped crying, and James is grateful, but he doesn’t think this shameful look is a vast improvement. “I feel like I’m being dramatic. And Sirius is the one who had to see it. He had to drive home too, I was too upset.” 

James’ battered, broken heart wells for the both of you. He forgoes his attentions to your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders instead to tuck you against his side. “You’re not being dramatic,” he promises, “okay? You and Sirius were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you both had to witness something awful.” Your head sinks onto his shoulder, and he rubs your upper arm. “I think it’s alright to be sad for a while. For yourselves, and for the bunny. Just, don’t torment yourself, alright?” He withdraws enough to see your face, and you tilt your gaze up to his. “Please. You don’t deserve the guilt.” 

Your eyes cast down, contemplative and a bit shy, a moment before your head comes back to its spot on his shoulder. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

“No thanks necessary, babe. You can cry all night if you need to, I’ll be right here. Just do me a favor,” he lowers his voice, glancing toward the kitchen, “let me sit between you and Sirius if you do. Many more tears and I think he’ll have a heart attack.”

[fxllfaiiry]

hey can you do flashing spencer during an argument? some angst at the beginning to maybe?

─ flashing spencer during an argument 

summary ─ flashing spencer while arguing. 

warnings ─ 16+ no smut but heavily implied! explicit language, spencer being horny, some angst but not really, mentions of reader getting shot, wife!reader. 

notes ─ thank u for ur request <3 please don't mind any errors.

⎯⎯

“I can't believe you would risk your life like that.” The scene was ugly, you almost got hit by a bullet on the field and Spencer was having none of it. The flight back was quiet and tense, you tried to get him to talk to you but nothing, he gave you the silent treatment until you guys reached back home. You barely talked even then, everything was done in silence, once you guys were freshened up Spencer couldn't take it anymore, the whole thing was killing him. 

“Well, it's not like I got hit or anything, please calm down.” You were just as stubborn as he was, it’s not like you wanted to be in that situation, it just happened. You were trying to save an innocent man’s life. 

“Calm down? What if it hit you? Then what, huh?” 

“But it didn't, did it? Look I’m fine.” He was really testing your patience, you were tired, and all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your husband. 

“Look, I just want you to be safe, okay?” He turned away from you pacing back and forth, going on and on about how safety comes first. You stopped listening halfway, and then suddenly you got an idea. You had no energy to argue with him right now. 

You pulled your shirt up, exposing your tits to the room, thank god you didn't wear a bra. You waited patiently for him to turn around, letting him ramble first. 

“You could've saved him without puttin-” Oh. Spencer froze. The words died in his throat, the sight of you sitting topless made him hard. He went from angry to extremely turned on in mere seconds. 

“You were saying?” You looked so cocky, he wanted to fuck that smirk of yours away. 

Spencer walked towards you. You could tell you made him even angrier. You squirmed around nervously in your chair, you could feel yourself throb with each step he took. 

He stood in front of you, looking down at you with dark eyes. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

“I never meant to make you angry, Spence. I’m only doing my job.” The sudden stab of guilt makes you apologise, you get why he was mad but you were doing your job.

“I know, I was just worried that’s all. I’m sorry too.” His eyes softened at your words, he was being unreasonable before. 

“Can’t believe all it took was my tits being out for us to make up.” You giggle and Spencer lets out a low laugh at your comment. 

“Don’t think you’re getting away with it, that easily.” Your husband sinks down on his knees in front of you, gently kissing up your thigh. 

“Spence, please.” You grab his hair with your hands trying to guide him to where you need him the most. 

“Ah, ah, patience, my darling, we have a long night ahead.”

[2kiran]

◜ᐢ..ᐢ◝ ᶻz ➜ din didn’t know how it lead to this. you were his bounty and you made him chase after you then, eventually, he got to you. he was annoyed at you for being so stubborn when he caught you. but now? he’s completely at your mercy.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𖤐 pairing ☆ din djarin x dom!m!reader ˖ ࣪ ˖ cw ıllı bonus. helmetless!din. thigh riding. use of sir. blowjob [ giving ]. orgasm delay/denial. praise + degradation. ⪩⭔⪨

At first, a plan was quick to formulate in your mind. Intent on escaping his harsh grip as you were seconds away from boarding the Razor Crest. Unfortunately, you didn’t succeed. The Mandalorian’s reaction time was better than you expected. What was happening now, though, completely makes up for your earlier humiliation.

The feared and brutal bounty hunter, was on your thigh with his face bare, reduced to a whimpering mess.

“Shame that you have to wear that helmet of yours all the time. ‘s a waste for your pretty face.” He seemed utterly helpless, eyes pleading to you to end this enjoyable torture.

You guided him on your thigh, so slowly that he got quickly frustrated. “Faster...ah!” You sped up your movements briefly, only to slow it down again, earning a whine from him. “So impatient. We’ve only begun.” He shook his head, “Sir, I ca–can’t. I need—” You interrupted him, “You can. Be thankful that I haven’t already left after you’ve embarrassed me.” He moaned lowly as he rocked against you just right, “I’m sorry, f-fuck.” His hands rose, gripping your shoulders for dear life.

“It’s too late for that.” You lifted him away from your thigh, making Mando let out a sob. You put him on the crate you were sitting on and you pulled down his boxers, revealing his leaking cock. “I’ve barely done anything to you.” You leaned in without warning, licking up from the shaft to the tip. “Ah! Fuck, fuck,” He instinctively bucked into your warm mouth, a breathy moan escaping him as you hummed. The vibrations were dizzying his brain.

“Mmngh...Feels s’good. You’re doin’ so good...your m–mouth, ngh!” Your own cock strained against your pants at his words, laced with bliss. You surfaced, pulling off him to breathe. He groaned in disappointment, “No! I was s’close.” He slurred, a frown on his lips.

Oh.

He deserves this punishment.

You suddenly take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. “Oh! ‘M go–gonna—” On cue, your mouth was off of him again. Tongue ghosting over his tip. “What... why’d you stop?” He panted, “Do you think you deserve to cum?” His eyes widened, “I’m... I’m so sorry. Need your mouth on me. Please.” Your thumb rubbed lazy circles into his thigh to calm him down, “You can do better than that, yeah?” Tears brimmed at his waterline.

“Please... I need you. Need you to help me cum, to help me feel good, please. I’m sorry.”

“Stand up.” He followed your order, his shaky legs threatening to give up on him but you quickly pinned him to the wall. Swiftly, you took your pants along with your boxers off. Mando felt drool build up under his tongue at the sight of your cock. “Open your mouth for me, pretty boy.” He opened his mouth and you shove in three of your fingers, taking him by surprise. “What’re you waitin’ for? Suck on them, slut.” He did, surprisingly obedient and filthy.

Once he coated your fingers with his saliva, you put one of them into his hole. Then a second, scissoring him. Then there comes a third. “You’re taking me in so well, huh? Greedy little whore.” His dick twitched, his teeth biting on his bottom lip to muffle his sounds. You lined up your cock and slid it in, filling him up instantly. Din’s tears finally flowed down, staining his cheeks, “Please,” he weakly begged, voice more of a whisper, “Please fuck me, sir.” You couldn’t help it. Your hips drew themselves back, pounding into his entrance. The way he moaned your name seemed like it’s the only word he ever knew. You could consider it poetical, but it was absolutely whorish.

Mando swears a silent oath that he’ll never admit that he wants you to ruin him — to make a mess out of him in front of those who fears him.

But if you’re lucky enough, you could fuck it out of him.

“I’m going to—” He half-warns, “Don’t. Not until I say you can.” He quietly whimpered, choosing to keep silent. Mando knew better than to complain. He could only shut up and be your little toy.

The once silent Razor Crest was filled with his moans and the sounds of his squelching hole. You leaned in and kissed him, sliding your tongue into his mouth. Successfully silencing his moans until you pulled away, “You’re better when you’re quiet.” Your hand met his cock, setting up a quick pace, “Cum for me.” Almost on command, he came onto your shirt. His hole sucked you in so tightly, sending you off the edge.

You pulled out of him after a few moments, some of your cum dribbling down your cock. You kissed his tear-stained cheek sweetly, “Good boy.”

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[firein-thesky]

delicate

━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━

pairing: vash x reader

cw: mention of guns/shooting. a touch suggestive….subtly horny.

a/n: here is a drabble. it is haunting me. vash is haunting me. you understand.

━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━ ◦ ❖ ◦━ ━

“will you teach me?”

vash looks up from his gun, spread out across the wooden table in bits of glinting silver, like sharp teeth pulled out of a metal mouth. the evening sun is hot and rosy and burnishes the little bar in russet.

he’s been cleaning his gun methodically for the better part of an hour.

his brows perk up, “how to shoot?” he asks.

“yeah—wanna learn.”

vash makes a face—just a sour twist of his mouth. the falling of his lashes against his cheek.

“do you have to?” he asks.

“well—if i’ll be traveling with you guys—i don’t want to be dead weight.”

vash shakes his head quickly, “there’s no such thing. besides, you’re our healer. that’s far better than a gunmen.”

eyes like stars in the blue sky catch yours. his voice is soft—earnest.

“healer’s the best thing you can be.” he vows gently, “you don’t need a gun for that.”

“vash.” you say, stern and stubborn. “c’mon. don’t give me this.”

he almost looks like he’ll plead with you, “you don’t need it.”

“what if i’m in danger?” you urge.

“i’ll protect you.” vash says firmly.

“what if you’re not around?”

the question hangs in the air. the sun sinks deeper into its red horizon. you swear you can hear the furious brag of your heart, can feel the way vash’s shoulders sink under an invisible weight.

“i don’t—“ he starts, frowning, “i don’t want to.”

“fine. then i’ll ask wolfwood.” you turn to go and he reaches out, snags your wrist.

“don’t go. and don’t ask him. i—“ his fingers, cool and metallic, gently urge you back, “i wish i didn’t have to teach you.”

the confession silences you. you slacken in his hold and look at him. he picks his head up to look back at you. he’s looking at you so sorrowful, so guilty. hangdog look on his face like he’s already done something bad. already committed a sin too great.

you don’t know what to say—any of the snippier remarks about not being naive or weak or some damsel he needs to protect die on your tongue, find a graveyard there and deaden your voice. silence stretches.

vash finally says;

“i wish there was a life for you where you didn’t have to learn how to handle a gun.”

“so you’ll teach me?” you ask.

his fingers, delicately holding your wrist, now slip away. you miss their pressure, their weight immediately.

he nods, slow, with a regretful sort of half smile, sad.

“i’ll teach you,” he says, “but you gotta promise me something.”

“what is it?” you ask.

“remember you’re a healer.” and then he tilts his head, considers you, “and don’t ever aim for the heart.”

“but what if—“

“ah, ah, ah! you have to promise or i won’t teach you! those are my rules.”

you let go of a huff of air, “fine. i promise.”

“atta girl!” vash says now, warm and with a smile. heat burns your face and you don’t think it’s the last dregs of the sun barely clinging to the sky.

he slides over on the bench he’s sitting on, welcoming you on. “now, look close—i’ll teach you how to take a gun apart and then put it back together.”

you sidle in beside him. suddenly you’re shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. and you can see the bit of stubble on his jaw and can smell—him. he smells like sunlight, musky and warm, a little sweet. he smells like the wind. petrichor and thistle.

“i thought you were gonna teach me how to shoot—“

“patience!” vash says, “we’ll get there. this is an important first step.”

the sun melts away into evening blue and you watch vash, with his nimble, sure fingers, put the gun back together carefully. then skillfully take it apart again. this time he urges you to do it.

and he sits, tucking in close, guiding your hands and helping you along. murmuring soft that this piece goes here. and do you remember this part? just—twist like this—gentle like. that’s it. for such dangerous items, they’re rather delicate, huh?

“yeah,” you breathe, watching the shadow of his pale lashes flutter against his cheek. “delicate.”

he laughs a little, easy and soft. almost husky. “there’s a reason gunmen call them their babies—their lovers.” he eyes you and there’s a strange twinkle in them, “c’mon. you’re close—what’s next?”

something flutters inside you—and suddenly you feel rather delicate yourself. you try to focus on the parts in front of you, attempting to make a whole. they look like scrap metal to you. your mind feels just as scattered as the pieces in front of you.

“um.” you say intelligently.

vash draws his fingers towards another piece, taps it gently and you’re rather stuck on the image. “this one—easy with it.” you move to snap it into another place and you struggle. twisting, metal on metal, grating.

he settles his hands over yours, guiding, “here—should fit, nice and snug, just like that.” his voice is low, by your ear. the piece slides right into place with a satisfying click.

you swallow.

when you’ve finished putting the gun back together, he says, “now—we’ll work on shooting when you can do that without me.”

“what?!” you demand, “that wasn’t apart of the deal!”

he shrugs and you can feel it against you, lopsided smile all boyish. “you want to learn how to shoot—i’m teaching you how to shoot. the right way.”

he pulls the gun from you, fingers brushing yours, and in a matter of seconds and the sound of clinking metal, he’s taken the gun apart and torn it into pieces again. it lays on the table in front of you, glinting cold silver now that the sky is all plum and dark.

you’d hardly seen his fingers move they were so quick, so—

“try again.” he encourages.

you eye the puzzle in front of you, your own fingers dancing towards the first piece.

“good,” vash says, smiling, leaning back a little in his seat. and then soft, “keep going.”

and you spend the night like that, certain that you’re somehow being taken apart, too. and put back together all over again.

kinda like what a healer does—kinda like what you do for him.

[cinnbar-bun]

Ruler of the Heart (Crocodile x Reader)

Summary: Crocodile is not a man who gives up easily. He’s not someone who just submits to others. He has to be in control.

That is, except, when it involves you, in which he is a helpless victim to you.

AKA: Crocodile is a big softie for his wifey.

Notes: Female pronouns for reader, MENA! Crocodile, MENA! Reader

Rating: G

A/n: YEAH THIS ONE IS FOR ME <333 VERY SELF INDULGENT!!

Read on my AO3 here!

It doesn’t take much to make his eyes linger on you. Despite his stoic outer appearance, the ex-Warlord is hopelessly obsessed with you. All it takes is a snap of your finger and he immediately turns to you.

You are his oasis in the desert, the water that flows past his lips to save him from the overwhelming thirst he has. And to you, he is your king, your protector and provider who grants every wish of yours like a mythical genie.

His power, both physically and politically, is overwhelming and dominating. He doesn’t need to do much to make others comply. A simple command, a flick of his hand, and all issues crumble into dust.

But when it comes to matters concerning you, Crocodile can’t help but fall victim to you every time. From the dark, smokey eye makeup you wear, a bat of your lashes, or the pouting of your lips that are colored with the lipstick he purchased for you. From perfectly manicured nails, to gorgeous skin that glows from the oils you wanted, to the scent of oud in your hair from the bakhoor. You enchant him with your beauty, your voice, and your attitude.

Crocodile can’t help but think your attitude is the most beautiful part of you.

You walk like you’re a million dollars. Wherever you walk, everyone is immediately struck by you and your confidence. Your heels click against the floor as he stands beside you to purchase you another gold necklace for no reason other than he felt like. The grin on your lips is worth far more than the necklace he just bought you, he thinks.

You are so naturally charismatic and social, that others can’t help but be taken in with you. Crocodile, who wasn’t too fond of socializing, was taken aback by how you managed to make even Mihawk talk more during a meeting. But that’s just who you were. A laugh here, a silly anecdote there, and all were listening to you.

Crocodile also adored your loyalty. You’d go through hell if it meant saving him, and the thought warmed his heart in a way few things ever could. When other men tried to approach you, you blew them off with a snarky response and a show of your ring. When his colleagues or subordinates were pushing their luck, you stepped in to take control.

You were a true Warlord’s wife, in every sense of the word. You were the wife men could not even dare to dream of or even hope existed. You were his number one supporter, his partner, and closest, most trusted confidant.

But much like the ocean, while you were beautiful and strong, you also had your moments of devastation. Ah, you were passionate- but so, so jealous.

“Habibi, eyes over here,” you’d warn with that sickly saccharine tone of yours that meant he was pushing his luck. “Perhaps I should take those eyes of yours so they never wander again.”

Whether that was an empty threat or a promise didn’t matter- Crocodile loved it. “Ah… you know my eyes are only ever on you, my love. You already take my eyes,” he’d say the last part in his native tongue.

You were stubborn and didn’t take any disrespect- not even from him. Even when he was getting snappy, you never looked at him in fear or shrank back.

“I said-“ He snarled, raising his voice at you after a long day at work.

“No, no, no. Don’t raise your voice at me,” you cut him off with a wag of your finger.

“Don’t tell me what-“

“No. I’m not one of your men,” you placed your hands on your hips. “I did not marry you to be treated like your men. I’m your wife, not some servant.”

Well, he was angry at the time but he wondered if you knew how pretty you looked when you lectured him. He nodded, and then enveloped your smaller hand in his large, functional hand.

“I’m sorry, habibti,” he remorsefully said, kissing every knuckle on your hand. “I’m sorry. I was stressed.”

You kissed his nose back and ran a hand through his gelled, slick-back hair.

“We can talk about it over dinner.”

“Hm? What is for dinner?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Kafta bil-sanieh. It needs a few more minutes to bake,” you say then kiss him back.

“Gods, I love you,” he sighed happily, before lifting you in his arms. You smirk.

“Then you’ll love what is for dessert.”

“Which is?”

“Basbousa~!”

His smile widens as he peppers your face with kisses.

“Your words are honey on my heart,” he chuckles, showering you in more affection.

“You’ll bury my heart,” you reply back, and he twirls you around like a lovesick teenager.

It is times like these where he can’t help but let his boyish feelings of love and affection come out. No matter how hard the day is, no matter how shitty his attitude, he was always ready to hold, spoil, and adore you. He loved and worshiped you on his knees as his queen. His beautiful, radiant queen who managed to reinvigorate his dried-up heart full of life.

His heart beat only for you, only knowing what love was because of you.

How you could so easily tug at his heartstrings like an oud. How you could make this invincible, stone-cold man melt with a simple touch or a smile. How you held his life in your hands, and how he happily let you do so. Only you were the one who could make him so weak and mushy as if he were a young man again.

But his favorite part of when you were together was at night.

At night, the scent of your perfume lingered in the air and on the sheets. He could only sit and marvel at you as you removed your jewelry and makeup from your face while in your nightgown. While to you, it was just a nightly routine, to him, it was like seeing a masterpiece being made. Your makeup was wiped off with a touch of rose water, and you made sure your hair was taken care of. You noticed his stare from the mirror.

“Yes, habibi?” You curiously asked.

“Nothing. I’m just looking at a treasure,” he responded, tapping his cigar on the ashtray on his bedside. He hears your satisfied chuckle.

“You flatter me too much.”

“I don’t think I flatter you enough,” he exhales a puff of smoke. “Words cannot do you justice. Even if I give you the world, it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Your smile is contagious, obviously enjoying his dramatic proclamations of his love for you. You finish with your routine and settle into bed, and he inhales the scent of your perfume.

You rest your head against his broad and muscular chest, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. You’re careful to not irritate his left arm as you listen to the pounding of his heartbeat.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

The sounds that entered your bedroom from the window varied night by night. You’d commonly hear the winds blowing, with the leaves of the date palm tree rustling gently from it. Sometimes the chatter of people would make its way to you. But he could ignore those, in exchange for hearing your soft breaths as you slept. You looked so peaceful and happy when you fell asleep. You’d nuzzle closer to him, and he’d keep his arm tightly wrapped around you. He’d think to himself how he never thought he’d be here. You were never something he imagined would exist. But after you entered his life, you were his dream- his every fantasy made physical. From the best of times to the worst of times, you were there.

There would never be anyone else he’d rather serve as “husband” or “lover” to, than you. There would never be another who he could happily give his heart to and bow for. Only you. Because only you could ever be the ruler of his heart.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 32

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Well, this escalated in a way I didn't plan.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is a low drone. You can hear his curt tone as he comes through the front door. His slither is met by a booming timbre that makes you jump. Thor speaks loudly, enough for some of his words to thunder through the walls that divide you.

Your ears pulse as you try not to listen. You know you shouldn’t. By Laufeyson’s reaction alone, you know his brother is less than welcome. Thor’s presence brings you little peace yourself as the memory of his creeping touch crawls up your spine.

You sit behind the laptop and try to focus on the screen. If you can distract yourself, it will be over soon enough and Thor will be gone. Maybe then, you can figure out why Mr. Laufeyson has turned to ice.

“...is she?” The two words echo and jar you from your failing battle.

Laufeyson’s response is short and sharp. You fill in the blanks of his deflection; ‘none of your concern’.

“...busy cleaning up your messes, eh?” Thor’s taunting question rolls upwards as footsteps hammer up the stairs, stopped halfway as another pair shuffle after them.

“I did not welcome you in,” Laufeyson is clearer now. You assume they are on the staircase with how their voices waft airily.

“Always the gracious host,” Thor counters.

“Do not lecture me on grace. Say what you’ve come to say and go. I’m busy–”

“Oh, yes, if I had a little maid like that, I’d always be busy as well–”

“Get on with it,” Laufeyson snarls.

Thor laughs heartily, “brother, one day you will see we are more alike than you care to accept. Maybe then you would see that it is the crux of our problems. You might even appreciate our shared tastes–”

“If you’ve only come to ramble, I’m not interested. I’ve spent enough time entertaining you lot–”

“You speak as if we are enemies,” Thor accuses, “you cannot waste time on family.”

“Ah, because kinship has always been sacred in your heart,” Laufeyson scoffs, “you are like a storm, you bluster but only make a mess. Say what you came to say and leave me be. I’ve work to do. Real work.”

“Well, if I am to deliver my message, I think both recipients should receive it, don’t you?”

“Say it,” Laufeyson hisses.

“But it is meant for both of you. The little maid as well–”

You sit up straight and tweak your head. You shouldn’t listen but you’re caught now. You cannot keep from overhearing.

“House manager,” Laufeyson girds, “I’m certain I can efficiently communicate whatever nonsense has drawn you here.”

“And they say I am stubborn,” Thor snorts, “Walpurgisnacht.”

“Walpurgisnacht?” Laufeyson echoes the single word.

“Surely you recall the old ways.”

“Don’t,” Laufeyson warns.

“Mother is having a celebration. Like when we were young. Father’s agreed to it.”

“She didn’t mention.”

“Ah, yes, well, you’ve much going on. She sent me to inquire after the little maid– house manager. She would require help with arranging the festivities.” Thor explains, “oh, and you’re invited too, I suppose.”

“She has her staff, does she not?”

“Frida is too old. She only serves tea and Gertrude’s never been very strong-minded. Mother needs input, not an empty vessel.”

“Charming,” Laufeyson remarks, "well, I will consider it. Next time, tell mother to call.”

“There will be many old faces. Many may even be happy to see you,” Thor goads.

“I wouldn’t expect so,” Laufeyson retorts, “must I ask you to leave anon?”

Another rolling guffaw fills the house. You hear a grunt from Laufeyson and a muted thump. Thor quiets with a sigh, “ah, fine, fine, I shall leave you to your little– house manager. You will tell her I say hello.”

Silence roils through the air. A scuff cuts through the tension and footfalls clamour down the stairs. The front door opens and closes, leaving you to wallow in the dark cloud left behind. Mr. Laufeyson’s long exhale blows up the staircase ahead of him and you listen to his approach.

You look at the door, expecting him to come through any moment. But it isn’t that one he opens. It’s the study door that slams with a terrible force. His growl permeates through and the adjoined door clicks as the lock is flicked into place. You stare at it and frown.

You don’t suppose his mood will thaw any time soon.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson does not emerge for supper. You barely eat anything yourself as anxiety tortures your stomach. You clean up after yourself and retreat upstairs. 

You near the study, lingering before the door as you pluck up your courage. You tap softly on the wood. There’s no answer. You didn’t hear him go but maybe you missed it.

“I made dinner, Mr. Laufeyson. I’ve left you a plate in the oven,” you speak through the wood, to the ghost on the other side.

You traipse away in defeat. You’re entirely confused. What did you do so wrong? Even before his brother’s unprompted visit, Mr. Laufeyson was coolly apathetic. Yet that morning, in the shower, he’d been on fire, consuming you like flames.

Maybe you’re not good enough. Maybe you didn’t kiss him just right or make the noises he liked. Oh, but how are you supposed to know what to do?

You sit at the writing desk and tap your fingers on your chin. You squirm in your chair as the scene in the shower replays in your head. You tear it apart, trying to pick out the exact moment of your offense.

You shift on the seat and the throbbing pressure in your core ripples through you. Just the thought of his touch has you alight. You touch your hot cheeks and flutter your lashes. You shouldn’t be worried about all that, you should be working on that spread sheet.

You glance over at the study door. The house is stagnant once more. Just like those early days when you made your slow progress with a broom and mop. Something’s gone terribly wrong. Maybe… you should just leave.

You put your fingers mindlessly to the touch pad of the computer. You swirl around the cursor mindlessly. You blow out through your lips and sit up, another fraught peek towards the door.

You bring both your hands over the keyboard. No, you shouldn’t. 

You need to figure this out. You need to know what you did, or didn’t do. You can be what he wants you to be, you have to. You have nothing else.

You type, then backspace, then type again. After several times, you hit search. You click through to a site with a black background and gasp at the obscene ads that fill the margins. 

You bite down as you try to focus past the small thumbnails. You key into the search bar ‘shower’. You hover your finger over the enter key before you will yourself to hit it.

The search results are just as chaotic. You don’t know what you’re looking for. ‘Best Shower Scenes STEAMY’. Your insides tickle and you squeeze your thighs together. Invisible flames lick at you and cluster in your chest.

You mute the computer as the video loads. The house is so quiet that you’re aware of every creak and crack. You fidget as you sit through the ad of a woman giggling over a URL for meet-ups. You press your hands to your thigh, sitting forward so your weight rests on your pelvis, dampening the tingly heat.

The video begins. A woman with caramel coloured hair and a curvy body. You admire her figure and peer down at your own. Maybe that’s it, maybe you’re not hot enough? You remember how Mr. Laufeyson touched you all over, almost as if he was examining you. Did you disappoint?

You flick your eyes back up as a man enters and they step into the shower booth. You chew your lip as you fixate on his large dick. He’s very big but you think Mr. Laufeyson is too. You’re not sure. This isn’t helping, you still don’t understand anything.

They kiss and fondle each other. You lean forward, watching with a stitch between your brows. The woman drags her hands down the man’s body and gets to your knees. She pumps him with her hand and licks his tip, dragging her tongue down his length. He grabs her head and forces himself into her mouth.

She takes him greedily. Oh. That could be it. Last night, you were so afraid, and you got all teary, and you didn’t know what you were doing. 

You watch her as she touches his sack, squeezing then works her hand in tandem with her mouth on his dick. You put your hand to the side of your neck and hold your breath. You wiggle on the chair, the friction making your own arousal more obvious.

Finally, the woman stands, the man lifting her by her hair. He spins her and bends her forward. She braces the wall and as he slaps her ass several times before gripping her hip. He’s so rough. You don’t know if you could handle that.

He slides into her and your mouth falls open. Her thighs quake and your own give a tremble. Your walls clench as the pressure knots in you. The thought of doing that with Mr. Laufeyson both frightens you and excites you.

You twiddle your fingers and blink at the screen. The furrow in your forehead deepens as you lean forward. You put your fingers along the touchpad but don’t press them down.

“Ahem,” Mr. Laufeyson startles you as he clears his throat.

You sit up and quickly hit the X in the corner. Your throat closes as you struggle to breathe, caught but not entirely. He stands in the doorway between the study and library. From that angle, he can’t see what’s on your screen.

“You are working hard,” he muses as he strides in with crossed arms.

“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily. You stare him in the face, too afraid to look anywhere else as your mind dares to imagine the shower again, both of you naked, this time, you’re bent over and he’s behind you. “Um, did you get your dinner?”

You close the laptop as you stand. You wince as the fabric of your panties clings to your wet cunt. You feel like he can see right through you.

“I’m not hungry,” he stops on the other side of the desk.

“Okay,” you swallow and your eyes flit side to side.

“I never told you to come out,” he drops his arms, placing his hand on the desk as he leans over it.

“Pardon?” You blink furiously.

“I said to remain in here until I told you it was safe. If you made my dinner, then you did not obey me.”

“I… Mr. Laufeyson, your brother’s gone–”

“And how could you know for sure if I did not confirm it?” He challenges with a wry tilt in his head. “I’ve been patient, pet, but I think you may require a different sort of discipline.”

“Mr. Laufeyson?” You babble, “I’m sorry–”

“Your apologies grow tiresome,” he huffs and stands straight. “Come here,” he points between him and the desk.

You put your head down and swiftly walk around the desk. He swirls his finger in the air and you turn your back to him. He backs away and rounds to the side of the desk.

“Hands down,” he nods to the desktop.

You press your palms flat, bent slightly at the waist. He considers you and strokes his chin with a hum. He circles the desk and you in a single, patient lap.

“Stay as you are.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you utter.

“Ah, no talking,” he warns, “remember your rules, pet.”

You gulp as he turns and struts away. Is it okay again? You can’t tell. He’s still rigid and painfully formal. He hasn’t touched you, he seems to be avoiding getting close. You stare at the wood beneath your hands and shiver.

You hear him in his study. You glance over as he appears in the door frame, his hands hidden behind him. He tuts. “Head forward.”

You look ahead and focus on the wall. He nears, his shadow skewed in the lamplight. He stands behind you, a foot away and he hums. He clucks and strolls around the desk to face you.

He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a thick leather strap. The brown leather is faded and cracked. Your eyes round as you stare at it and he brings it taught between his hands.

“Flogging is historically a long held practice. For the monk in his self-flagellation, for the heathen in his cell, and… for the woman in her disobedience,” he explains as his lips curl. “Spare the rod, spoil the child…” He takes a breath, “and you, pet, are growing spoiled.”

Your lips part but you don’t speak. You must follow the rules. This is the test. If you fail this, then it’s over. If you fail, you have nothing.

He walks along the desk and rounds the corner, brushing by as he purrs, “remember your rules. Not a sound.”

He comes up behind you and you hold your breath. He tugs at the back of your skirt and shudders. He pulls the fabric above your ass, his hand trailing along the back of your panties. He hooks his finger in the elastic and tears them down to your thighs. You quiver and clench your jaw tight, fighting back a squeak.

He stretches the leather across your ass. It’s cool and smooth. You twitch as bumps rise across your skin. He pulls back and you lower your head. You wait. Nothing. 

You cautiously raise your chin and look back. He snaps the whip across your ass as you do and you spasm with the hot flash of pain. He points to the wall in a wordless demand. Eye forward. You turn your attention back to the grey blue paint as your eyes glisten. He strikes you again, the agony scalding across the swell of your ass.

Your thighs shake as he pulls back again. You await a third but it never comes. You don’t dare move. He paces behind you. You watch his shadow cast before you and he moves abruptly forward. You bite your tongue as he lashes you again. Harder as he lets out a thick grunt.

Your hands slip and you fall forward. You plant your palms more firmly as you push yourself straight. A fourth comes and sends tendrils down to your toes. You hiss through your teeth, quaking, fighting not to collapse.

You deserve this. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve earned this. 

A fifth and your knees knock together. You barely keep afoot as the sixth lands with extra bite. Seven, eight, nine… He lashes you in quick succession, as if he cannot stop himself. The tenth has you heaving, about to vomit with the pain.

He stops himself, his shadow holding up the stap. He lowers it and steps back. He sighs and turns away.

“Tomorrow you will pack for our departure,” he declares, “we leave on Friday.”

We? So you are to go with him. You don’t dare ask or say a single word. You stay as you are, shaking as you roll your eyes back against the flood.

“You will be on your best behaviour,” he warns as he nears the study door, “I trust this lesson will not be forgotten.”

He passes into the study and the door closes harshly. Your legs fold and collapse beneath you. You land in a heap, holding yourself off your ass as you whimper. You won’t ever forget.

[taeiun]

just a little sick with love.

synopsis: it spills out too fast; hard to contain this blurted confession about you (in other words, txt when asked about you during an interview)

who: txt's choi line x gn!reader

categories: a little smth extra fluffy, interview style scenarios

warnings: might be ooc here? reader is referred to as "pretty" and "beautiful" a few times (not in a physical appearance context really), love and babe and jagiya are used as petnames, use of "yn" in the fic, mentions of food and drinks

word count: 0.9k

interviewer: ...but, while we’re on the topic of romance, i’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re currently in a relationship. now, i’m just dying to know, and i’m sure the viewers are too, about who you’ve been seeing so, what can you tell us about them?

✧ YEONJUN !

yeonjun: well to start, they’re the love of my life. [he laughs and runs a hand through his hair with a hum] they understand me in ways no one else would, not even the other members. i can be choi yeonjun with them, you know? not just an idol on stage, not just yeonjun of tomorrow x together. being with them… it’s like walking into a cold room after being out in the sun all day. 

interviewer: aw, that’s sweet! how did you get to meet them? 

yeonjun: i spilt my drink on them. [he smiles sheepishly] i was in a rush and wasn’t looking where i was going. we bumped into each other and i ruined their shirt. i offered to pay for a new one but the thing about yn is that they’re stubborn. they refused so i asked if could take them out lunch instead. things kind of went from there.

yeonjun: now, they send me tiktoks and reels that remind them of me when we’re away on tour. they surprise me with roses after a show win and always welcome me with a smile, no matter how tired they are. yn is the best thing that’s happened to me and i can’t see myself without them. 

interviewer: wow sounds like i might need to sweep them off their feet for myself! [the interviewer laughs]

yeonjun: [he lets out a tense chuckle that ends in a sigh] ah… yeah no, tough luck buddy. they’re mine and always will be.

✧ SOOBIN !

soobin: hmm [he takes a moment to choose his words carefully] where do i begin? [the interviewers laughs] yn is my other half. i don’t really know how else to explain it other than that. they’re effortlessly kind and the nicest person i’ve ever met. they never fail to cheer me up after a long day and are so understanding of my needs. sometimes i think they know me better than i know myself. [he laughs]

interviewer: when did you know they were the one?

soobin: i think i knew we were going to work out for sure when the group and i first went on tour. yn took care of odi for me and sent me video updates. they don’t like recording their voice so i asked them why they sent videos instead of pictures and messages. they replied, “because i know you can’t sleep soundly without hearing my voice, soobin.” i was already in love before then but i think that only grew after hearing those words. 

interviewer: if you had to pick between your partner and your career, which would you choose?

soobin: i think that’s an unrealistic question to ask. yn made it clear that they’d never make me pick between our relationship and my idol life. they said i deserved to be happy, to receive the good things in life. for the longest time, i thought i could only have one or the other, a relationship or a successful career, and it wasn’t until i met them that i realized those things could coexist. they’re my biggest supporter and i couldn’t be more grateful for that.

✧ BEOMGYU !

beomgyu: oh, y/nnie! [he visibly brightens] it’s crazy. even though we’ve been dating for a while now, sometimes i wake up and i’m like [beep]... i’m actually dating them. they’re so sweet to me. i’m starting to get cavities from just how kind they are. [he and the interviewer laugh]

interviewer: why them? what is it about your partner that caught your eye?

beomgyu: oh it had to have been their smile. they have the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen and their eyes crinkle in the corners when they do. their laugh is the most beautiful thing i’ve heard. i’d play it on loop twenty four seven if i could. their happiness is infectious. i’ll let you in on a little secret [he leans in, forearms resting on his thighs as he moves to fake whisper to the interviewer] sometimes, they’ll dance and sing around the kitchen when they think im not watching. [he laughs, leaning back in his seat] they probably have way more blackmail on me though. 

interviewer: would you say you’re happy?

beomgyu: i’m the happiest i’ve ever been. yn… they make everything i do worth it. i don’t know what i’d do without them. i wish they could see themselves through my own eyes because i think they’re the most stunning and beautiful, in every meaning of that word, person on the planet.

bonus:

interviewer: is there anything you’d like to say to your partner back home?

yeonjun: hey, babe! i hope you haven’t forgotten about our one year anniversary coming up. [he says in a teasing voice] you better be taking care of yourself properly while i’ve been gone. [he smiles warmly] i miss you. tour is almost done, love. i’ll be seeing you very soon. 

soobin: i hope you’re doing well, love. you better be asleep when this program is airing and i don’t want to see a single text message from you until it’s morning in your time zone. you can get more work done when you’re well-rested. [he smiles] just a little longer, dear. i’ll be home soon.

beomgyu: yn! i can’t wait to see you again, jagiya. there’s so much to tell you and i miss stealing the blanket from you when we sleep. [his expression drops to a serious, but playful one] i’m cashing in that cuddling coupon you gave me for my birthday last year when i get back and expect top tier service.

^ . _ . ^ !? hehe was inspired by a couple cute insta reels that came up on my for you. next txt post will be for ot5 hopefully as long as i have the time

© taeiun 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim any of my writing as yours.

[nochukoo97]

boyfriend drabbles (pt.11)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: jungkook’s sick but he’s also stubborn, but you make sure to take care of him otherwise 😊

word count: 700

a/n: another boyfriend drabbles is out hehehe ❤️

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

“babe, lay back down now,” you put on your stern face and commanding voice but jungkook doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest.

“i swear i’ll be fine, in fact-“ your boyfriend launches into a fit of coughs as he wheezes at the end.

“yeah, i don’t think you’ll be fine,” you cross your arms as jungkook waves you off while choking on air.

“jagi, the gym will help me get better,”

he’s really trying to convince you that going to the gym and working out will make his high fever, sore throat, cough and runny nose better.

“come on, let’s lay back down in bed, i’ll give you a massage and play with your hair,” you entice your sniffling, coughing boyfriend who’s barely holding himself up.

“but i don’t need a massage, i need to go to the gym,”

jungkook is stubbornly whining, and you don’t know how to tell the man in front of you that sleeping it off and resting in bed is the best way for him to recover.

after bickering back and forth, jungkook manages to convince you to let him go to the gym, you don’t even know how but with how stubborn he is, it isn’t surprising he got what he wanted.

but on one condition, he doesn’t drive his car or motorcycle there.

your boyfriend reluctantly agrees.

——

it’s been thirty minutes since you left from sending jungkook over to the gym, handing him some painkillers and an extra bottle of water before you head back home.

your focused on stirring the soup in the pot, reheating it so that when your boyfriend comes home, he can finally actually recover.

meanwhile poor jungkook is at the gym, suffering and regretting not listening to his girlfriend’s words.

he hisses as his head begins to throb, despite having taken the last two painkillers in the packet.

you may not be there to witness jungkook’s pain and despair, but you won’t be surprised if a phone call from your sick boyfriend comes in the next twenty minutes, asking you to pick him up because he doesn’t feel too well.

ring

ring

there it is.

“yes baby?”

you smile over the phone, ready to hear the “i’m sorry you were right, i feel even shittier than before,” from him

but what comes out from the other end of the phone is a sad, sulky:

“jagi, can you pick me up please,”

your heart wrenches hearing his voice, you tell him to sit down and wait for you at the reception

——

when you pull into the driveway and enter the building, there sits jungkook, at the corner on the benches with his head buried into his hands.

poor thing, you quickly approach him to get him back into the car.

“hi baby, i’m here,” you whisper as you bend down slightly to meet his slumped figure.

you’re met with those watery bambi eyes, slightly red probably from his high fever.

“jagi,” your boyfriend whines with a hoarse voice, as he wraps his arms around your waist, his lower body still on the seat of the bench.

you ruffle his hair in sympathy as he continues to hold onto you, whining incoherent words as he buries his face into your torso.

“come on, let’s get you to the car, i have a blanket in there for you,” jungkook stands up shakily, and you sigh seeing his faltering state.

it takes you a little longer than usual to get jungkook into the car considering he was fully leaning his whole weight on you, unable to stand up on his own.

luckily for him there’s a reclined passenger seat with a blanket in the car waiting for him.

——

“lay down,” you instruct him again, this time jungkook complies with your orders, physically too weak to even reply.

you sigh once more as you place a fever patch on his forehead,

“ah-“ jungkook slightly hisses upon the sudden cold contact.

“ m’sorry baby, it’ll make your fever go down soon ‘kay?” you peck your lips in between his eyes.

your boyfriend sleepily nods his head, eyes slowly shutting as you tuck him under the blankets.

——

[pix3lplays]

Hello!! I know some people get squicked out by this subject so don’t worry about answering if you don’t want to, but can I request HSR men (Welt, Sampo, Jing Yuan, Gepard, anyone else you enjoy writing for) accidentally getting their s/o pregnant?

I imagine Natasha would hunt down Sampo and drag him back to the clinic to talk bc s/o came to her crying and doesn’t know how to tell him. The rest of the boys I feel like would roll with the punches and handle it just fine.

✨ may your 5 stars be early :D ✨

Hey there! Yeah I have no problem with this prompt, I’m eager to write it, thank you for sending it in!

And thank you so much hehe, may yours be as well!

Cw! Pregnancy

-Honkai Star Rail men accidentally getting their s/o pregnant-

Welt Yang: Welt Yang I feel would notice the signs that something’s not quite right with you, but I doubt he’d suspect he accidentally got you pregnant. He just assumes your feeling a little sick or something. Until you decide to take a test because…what if? And wouldn’t you know it…pregnant. Oh he feels bad about it. He didn’t mean to. He wanted to sit down and discuss having children with you and now he’s shoved you into this parenting thing without consulting you. The man wanted to have children, but he didn’t want things to happen like this. He’ll ask you if you want to keep the baby, but deep down he’s hoping you’ll say yes, though he’ll respect your decision either way. And when you do say you want to keep the baby, he feels…warm inside. It was an accident, but your family is growing a little bigger, and the Astral Express crew is so excited by your announcement. Welt and the crew eagerly await the arrival of your baby, and you almost forget that things weren’t supposed to happen quite this way. Welt would feel like he has to make it up to you for accidentally getting you pregnant, even if you insist he doesn’t. He does all sorts of things to take care of you during your pregnancy, and he’ll always be there for you. Just call his name.

Sampo Koski:(I’m just gonna use your idea, I loved it, I hope you don’t mind!) You had no idea what to do. You knew Sampo didn’t want kids, but now here you were…pregnant. So you go to Natasha to confirm the results, and while you’re there you can’t help but break down in front of the doctor, crying because you want to have this baby, but you don’t know what Sampo is going to do. Natasha agrees to go find him for you. And when she explains the situation and brings him to you, he’s not happy. You…actually want his accidental baby? Well he doesn’t. He’ll try to encourage you to get rid of it. No need to have a child disrupting what you have, right? What you have is so good. Just you and Sampo against the world. He doesn’t need the responsibility of raising a child. But you’re determined. And you try to tell him he might like fatherhood, though he’s hard to convince. Your pregnancy is one of those rare moments where you get to see Serious Sampo, and it’s a little…bizarre to be honest. To see him so…genuine and sincere about what he wants. And what he wants is to not have a kid. But he’ll take care of you. Even if he disagrees with what you’re doing. He doesn’t stop trying to convince you to get rid of it, but once he realizes your mind really is made up, he’ll drop it and give up. There’s no point fighting with you. Your much more stubborn than he is.

Jing Yuan: Jing Yuan prefers for things to be planned out, but he’s also excellent at improvising. And you’re essentially ordering him to improvise when you announce he accidentally got you pregnant. Well he takes the news very calmly, very properly, like a newly expecting father should. “Ah, my bad…” is what he says, with a charming smile that suggests he isn’t really sorry. I think he would encourage you to keep the baby. He’s wanted to have children with you for a while now, maybe this was fate… And he’s overjoyed when you agree that you’d like to keep the baby. He’ll treat you very well. Yes, this was an accident, but the way he behaves makes it seem like he’s been prepared for this for a long time. Truthfully he’s been wanting to have the kids discussion with you, but this works too. He wants you to know he’s fully on your side and supportive of you during your pregnancy. And he lets you know just how excited he is to meet his child. (Yanqing doesn’t know how to feel about getting a sibling lolol)

Gepard Landau: OH this poor man. He apologizes so, SO profusely, begging for your forgiveness, telling you he didn’t mean to, that it was just an accident and when you reassure him that it’s OK, he asks what you want to do next. Well. You’d like to keep the baby, to be honest. The two of you have only talked about it a bit, but you both agreed you’d like to be parents should the opportunity ever present itself, and here it was. Maybe not how you were expecting it, but it still works, right? Gepard is excited! He’s been wanting to be a father for some time now, and even if this was happening all too suddenly, and because of an accident, at least it was Happening finally! He does his best to take time off work so he can take care of you, but he’s still a busy man. He does his best though, for you, and your future child.

Luocha: doesn’t want kids. But you couldn’t possibly know that. Not from the way he smiled so calmly at you and congratulated you for your pregnancy, even if it was an accident. But inwards he’s screaming at himself. Why did he have to be so careless, and get you pregnant?! But you seemed so happy, so he’ll bite his tongue. He takes great care of you during the pregnancy process. His medical skills means he’s extra prepared for this scenario. He’s always smiling, asking how you’re feeling…he doesn’t even subtly encourage you to not want the baby or anything. But oh, deep down he’s not happy. But you’re happy. You’re more important to him. So he’ll be a father to his child. He’ll take responsibility for his actions. He sees fatherhood more as a duty…a responsibility than anything else. (Now I’m imagining a scene where he gets frustrated at his kid and tells them they were an accident and he never wished for them to exist :0) (I’m just very convinced Luocha doesn’t want to be a father)

Hehe this was a fun one…I’ll do some more guys if requested!

[demonpiratehuntress]

hi hello dearie, hope this finds you well <3 i’ve been reading some of your Ace content for DAYS cuz is ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT and i have a hyperfixation for the man.

i have this oddly specific request if you’re taking requests ofc asksnakxm

ace and the reader meet each other when he saved her from potentially being killed by some random ruthless and murdering pirate, she was in that situation because he had killed some of her friends but that’s not the issue AKSNWKSB the thing is she gets mad because Ace saved her so she said sum “i was content with the fact that i was going to die, i didn’t need your saving” and he’s just stunned cuz? he just saved her???? two days later she thanks him but she tries to escape many times from the ship and those many times Ace ruined her plans so after a week of trying she gives up. THEN two years later they confess their feelings for each other after a day of Ace following her like a puppy and teasing her nonstop until she gives in

ODDLY SPECIFIC IM SO SORRY 😭😭 but it’s okay if you can’t do it <3

hi! thank you so much 😊 also im so so sorry this took so long! I've just been really busy! but i hope you enjoy this! to everyone else, i am still working on the other requests! i have much more than i realised 😂 but i will get them out...eventually

taglist - @kabloswrld

stubborn

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above! :)

warnings - mild angst

Run.

That's all you could think of, all you could do. There was no time or space to do anything else, and your body had already kicked into the fight-or-flight response. You weren't sure how far you could get, but you were desperate to get away.

The gory images of your friends lying sprawled out on the ground, drenched in blood, made itself a home in your mind. You would never be able to forget that, no matter how hard you tried. Swallowing back a sob, you sprinted towards the town as fast as your tired legs could carry you.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?"

A solid wall of muscle slammed into you from the side and sent you flying. You hit an actual wall with a sickening crunch, pain erupting throughout your entire arm. Dislocated shoulder or broken arm, you couldn't tell which one through the blinding agony. You screamed, more so out of pain than wanting someone to hear. You already accepted your fate, the minute he found you. But that didn't make it any less painful.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this kill the most."

A large hand grabbef a fistful of your hair, yanking you upwards to meet his cold, murderous eyes. He was grinning wickedly, taking pleasure in your pain, and watched you squirm in his grip helplessly.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with!" You spat, not knowing where the bravery came from because of the immense pain emanating from your injured limb.

He tutted, "No, you gave me too much trouble. I'm going to make this slow and painful, just for you."

"Now that's no way to treat a lady."

A bright orange light filled your vision, but you couldn't tell what it was as you were suddenly dropped, the man who'd murdered your friends letting out a pained yelp. You lifted your head, dots swimming in your vision, but you were able to make out the familisr form of flames dancing along the man's chest.

"Judging from all the blood on your clothes, I'm gonna guess you went a little crazy tonight," another man was saying, but he sounded childishly amused. "Well, too bad it ends for you right here."

You turned to look at the owner, just as he flicked his wrist and sent more fire the murderous pirate's way. Pretty soon he was engulfed in flames, screaming and pawing at his clothes while trying to extinguish them. You couldn't care less, observing the man who'd saved your life.

He was tall and muscular, pale skin lit up by the ball of fire hovering above his palm. No, wait, his hand WAS the ball of fire. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but black shorts, black boots and a red cowboy hat.

You'd seen him somewhere before...

"Ah, good. I thought that might take a while."

You turned back to the man who'd killed your friends and had been chasing you up until now, only to see a crumpled black heap on the floor a few feet away. Your eyes widened, before you were suddenly lifted up into a pair of strong arms.

"I didn't need your help," you blurted out, "I was ready to die! I didn't want to be saved!" Tears formed in your eyes. You had nothing left. You should have died.

Ace frowned, his heart sinking. Your words brought a familiar feeling back to him, one that he hasn't forgotten but had tried to push away after finding a family in the Whitebeard pirates. He knew what it was like to feel the way you did, and it tugged at his heartstrings to find someone else like that.

Someone who didn't want saving, but desperately needed it.

He's so shocked that he almost forgets you need medical treatment. When he finally remembers, he says nothing and hurries back to the ship with you, his mind racing.

-

Two days later, your arm is in a sling and you're walking around the Moby Dick looking for the raven-haired commander that saved your life. The crew was friendly enough to you, and Marco had suggested more bedrest, but you wanted to see and thank Ace.

It was true that you wanted to die, yes, but after facing the kindness of someone you didn't even know, your mind had slowly changed. You were starting to feel grateful towards him, grateful for being alive.

"Hey! You're awake!"

You turned at the sound of the cheery man, spotting him coming your way. You relaxed slightly, not sure why you were so tense to begin with but relieved to see him.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "Your doctor works wonders."

"That he does," Ace grinned, before eyeing you up and down, "You look a lot better. I didn't get your name, though."

"Oh, it's (Name)," you told him, "You're Portgas D. Ace, right? Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates?"

"That's me. Glad to know I'm popular with pretty women," he flirted, sending you a smile that knocked the air out of your lungs.

You blushed, flustered, "Well I-I just wanted to say...thank you. I hadn't realised it before, but I didn't really want to die. Just thought I had no one left, and nowhere to go. So thank you for changing that."

Ace's smile only grew, so much so you feared it would tear his face in two, "You're welcome! If I'm being honest, I was glad to play hero for a beautiful woman."

Your blush deepened, his charms affecting you in a way that nothing else and no one else ever had. You found yourself at a loss for words, but thankfully he was called away so you didn't have to say anything else.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

-

The first time you tried to escape, you didn't realise they had a rotational watch schedule. And you hadn't realised that Ace was the one who was on watch that evening.

"Hey, (Name)! Where ya going?"

He smiled at you innocently enough, but his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were trying to do. After all, he'd done the same thing back when he joined. You were just too similar to him.

"Uh...nowhere?" You tried to lie, but you sucked at it. You couldn't even convince a potato if you tried.

"Hmm," he clicked his tongue. "This won't do. Maybe I should just tell Whitebeard, or should I keep this to myself in hopes that it doesn't happen again?"

You agreed to the latter.

The second time, Ace was actually sneaking out of the kitchen with some food when he bumped into you. He raised his eyebrow as your eyes widened, your face giving away your intentions entirely.

He tsk'ed, "Again, (Name)?" He pouted. "You promised, you know."

You sighed and went back to your room, dejected. You could hear him laughing as he walked past your room, and you rolled your eyes as you laid back down to sleep.

The third time, Ace was prepared.

And he had made a trap for you. Which you fell right into, which is why you were now wriggling around in one of the smaller boats, wrestling with a net.

"This is getting old, you know," Ace chuckled as he loomed over you. "Trust me, I know all the tricks. I was you once."

After the fourth and fifth times, you gave up. Ace wasn't going to let you leave, and as the days went by and you got closer to him and the crew, you found your will to leave slowly sapping away. You eventually realised you wanted to stay, having found a family and healed - if only a little bit - with the Whitebeard crew.

One year passed, and you had almost forgotten about the man who'd tormented you. You'd had so much fun with the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace in particular, that you hadn't thought much of the incident. It was getting easier and easier to rid your mind of the gruesome image of your deceased friends month after month. Each adventure left you happier, lighter, and you soon found yourself finding happiness once more.

The pirate life was truly meant for you.

Two years passed, and your time with the Whitebeard crew had become the best of your life. They were practically your family now, and you spoke about and to them as such. You never forgot what happened to you, but you barely thought of it anymore. Not when your head was filled with thoughts about a certain 2nd division commander, with whom you'd fallen in love.

"Ace, stop!" You giggled as he scooped up some batter from the bowl you were mixing it in. You were baking cookies, but Ace was determined to be a menace and sneak in fingerfuls of batter each time you looked away.

"Can't help it," he whined, "It already tastes so good!"

"I haven't even baked it yet!"

"Well then imagine how amazing it'll taste after that!"

You knew he was trying to flatter you to get out of trouble, but you did not care because it was working. And you hated that it always worked, especially with him, because he made your heart race and gave you butterflies.

The days following that included Ace following you around, which you found a little strange since you didn't know why. He would never tell you the reason, always saying something stupid like "you smell good" or "im your bodyguard". You knew he was doing it to tease you, but you couldn't help feeling giddy over the fact that he was choosing to gift YOU with all of his attention.

"Okay, come clean for real this time," you finally approached him one night he was on watch, sitting down next to him. "Why have you been following me around? Teasing me all day, everyday?"

He turned to you, thinking for a moment before speaking seriously for the first time in his life, "Because I'm in love with you, (Name). I didn't want to tell you because I wasn't sure how you'd react or what you'd say, but that's what it is since you wanted to know so badly."

Your eyes went wide, heart thumping like a drum in your chest, "You...you're in love with me?"

He nodded, looking down at his shorts, "I am. These past two years, getting to know you...well, I never really considered the idea of love. But finding you changed that. We're so alike, but also different in ways that complement each other. If that makes sense, I'm not sure it does."

"It does," you smiled slowly, looking out over the water. "And that's really sweet. No one's ever said something so sweet to me before."

"Really? I find that hard to believe, you're so pretty and cute."

Cue the blush, "Yeah, well, I didn't really like anyone before you," you admitted. "Never paid attention to men much, until you barged into my life." You laughed. "You've made me feel so welcome, so comfortable, so happy. You've given me a sense of peace after what happened, and I'm so thankful to you for that. You saved me in more than one way, Ace, and I'm madly in love with you for it."

Your confession took a bit of time to register in his head, but once it did he was smiling goofily and grasping your hand in his. You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling as the two of you spent the whole night holding hands, watching the ocean, and - your favourite part - sharing many heartfelt, intimate kisses.

You were eternally grateful to and for Ace, the man who'd saved you without your permission but eventually earned your heart.

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader; enter figureskater!jimin] [2.3k+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy; this one's for the plot! but also i know very little about the technicalities of figure skating so please be kind; tysm for the love on Orbiting]

-

Nothing beats the feeling of being on the ice, you think.

Well, second to Jungkook’s bed, the rink is where you feel most euphoric. As you glide in circles and spin in the air, the wind in your hair makes you feel weightless, almost trouble-free.

“I think I’m ready,” you skate closer to the stands where your coach sits. Eagle eyes follow your form, yet her face remains stoic, “Let me try a triple axel.” With that, her brows crease. “Absolutely not,” she answers with finality.

Stubbornly, you prod, “Coach, plea—”

“We’re not risking another injury when you’ve barely healed.” At this, you scoff, “But I’m fine now. I’ve been landing double axels for months, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but still poorly,” your coach reasons as she looks at you. And you hate it. You hate how she looks at you with pity, making you feel incapable.

Brushing off your insecurity, you muster up the sliver of confidence and hope you have left. “You’re lying,” you start. “I’ve seen my form and rewatched my routines after every practice. I’ve gotten better.” You're trying not to let your emotion swallow you whole, you push your point, “You also said so yourself: I’ve been better compared to three months ago.”

You don’t realize how shaky and loud your voice had gotten with every word. Even you, yourself, sounded unsure of your recovery by the time you finished.

“Y/N—”

You know that tone. Your throat and heart constrict, “No. You promised—” but your plea is interrupted by the echo of the door banging, followed by footsteps until someone comes into view.

“Ah, Jimin. Finally!” Your coach ushers him to come closer to where you’re at a standstill with her. You’re a ticking time bomb, that at least you know. The last thing you should be around is people, so you skate away.

- “Your reputation precedes you, L/N.”

Stopping mid-stretch, you turn your head to where you hear the voice. It’s Jimin. He smirked as he approached you, skates hung on his shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sits beside you on the bleachers, plush lips tightening to form another smirk. In a different mood, you may have gushed at how full his lips are, but right now, you’re irked at how his hands take their time in lacing his skates.

“Don’t worry.” He’s facing you now and his hands flick softly to brush his parted bangs away from his face. “All I’ve heard about are good things. At least, to me.”

Your eyebrows crease. He winks, then skates away from the bleachers. You parrot your previous question, now skating after him.

“My friends said you were a stubborn one,” his voice loud enough for you to hear. Jimin slows down and lets you catch up to him. Now skating beside him, matching his stride, you ask, “And that’s a good thing because?”

“I like headstrong girls. It just means you’re determined, too. But I want to see for myself how determined you can be, Y/N.”

Jimin swerves, now skating backward, facing you. You almost crash into him, but he holds your arm, guiding you back into pace.

“Careful. If we’re going to be partners, I need to know you can keep up with me,” he teases, and it works because you’re riled up.

Of course, Jimin heard a lot about you. A couple of his friends auditioned to be your pair, but they all came home after a few weeks with rants about the ‘ice princess.’ No one would deny how pretty and talented you were, but those admirable qualities were overshadowed by how much of a ‘bitch you can be on the ice’ as his friends would describe it. He has also heard people go as far as saying how much your accident was a well-deserved one because you needed to be knocked down a peg.

He drew the line there.

Your frustration turned irritation now directed towards his smug ass. “You’re the one who’s trying out,” you bark as you pull your arms from his hand. “Nuh-uh, this goes both ways,” Jimin insists, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Fine. Let’s do a routine,” you give in. “But I take the lead. Keep up, Park.”

Not giving him the chance to disagree, you skate to the middle of the rink. Starting with a three-turn. You monitor Jimin on your peripheral vision, then, you proceed to do a salchow jump followed by loops.

- “Fuck,” you pant. Heat is running through your body, and with Jimin beside you exuding the same warmth, you feel even more hot despite being surrounded by ice. You can’t deny that running routines with Jimin was the most fun since your coach have been holding auditions for the past month.

“So…” Jimin starts, his green sweater seeming darker as it dampens with sweat. “Am I good enough to be your partner, Y/N?”

You laugh, “I could ask you the same thing.” Your frustration from earlier dissipated. “But yeah, you’re not bad, Park. Skills are mildly better than the previous three skaters we’ve had combined.”

Jimin scoffs. “Gee, thanks. Unfortunately, I need you to do one more thing for me before I settle on a verdict,” he challenges.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Do a double axel for me.” At this, your smile falters. “Unless, of course, you’ve grown rusty. If you ask me, those routines were safe,” he goads.

You hate this. You hate how he gets under your skin so easily despite having just met him. But you stand, and Jimin follows, dusting scraped ice off his pants. “I’ll go first,” he starts as he skates away for space. With bated breath and hope that he trips, you watch him glide around for a while, then launch to a smooth double axle.

Jimin chuckles, hands combing through his hair once again. “Your turn, L/N.”

You skate in circles, orbiting Jimin. You can do this, you think. You’ve been landing double axels for months now. Despite this, your nerves shake. But you’ll be damned if you get outperformed by Jimin. You ready your form as you take a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

In a millisecond, you’re in the air, and as you land your feet on the ice, you wobble until your body hits the ice. You yelp in pain, hands quick to clutch your ankle.

“Shit!” Jimin rushes to you. Eyes wide, frantically searching for your coach.

- Propped on the bed, you chew on jello as your coach chews your and Jimin’s ear off.

“What the fuck were you guys thinking? I left you guys to get acquainted, not compete,” she whisper-yells. You and Jimin exchange a look. His eyes are shy and guilty.

“Y/N, I told you to be careful.”

“I was,” you nod, scooping a mouthful of jello. Another tirade was ready to leave your coach’s mouth when the door to your hospital room opens.

“Y/N,” Jungkook barges in. Eyes focused on yours as he walks to your side. Your coach sighs, “Jungkook, talk some sense into her, will you?” She pleads before leaving your room.

On the other side of your bed, Jimin clears his throat and introduces himself, his arms outstretched for a handshake. Jungkook ignores it; eyes still on you, but his words are clearly directed at Jimin, “You can leave us now.”

Nothing is said further, and Jungkook sits on your bed. Jimin stands in disbelief.

“It’s fine, Jimin,” you break the awkward tension, “I’ll see you next practice.”

Jimin nods at you, “Right. Get well soon. I’ll visit you tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s head finally whips to face Jimin. “There’s no need for that,” he speaks with finality, staring him down. Jimin scoffs, but after a second, he relents, nods at you for a goodbye, then leaves the room.

As soon as the door closes, Jungkook's voice booms, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You roll your eyes and end his incoming scolding before he can even start with a raise of your hand.

“You really are your mom’s son, huh? She said those exact words earlier,” you chuckle.

“Don't laugh. Nothing’s funny about this. You’re hurt, Y/N. This could have been really serious.”

You sigh, “I know. And I was scared, okay? But the doctor said it’s just a mild sprain. Nothing too serious, and give it a few weeks rest, and I’m good as new.”

Your hands reach out to straighten his furrowed brows. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep scowling.” Jungkook pulls your hand away from his face, and for a while, you think you’ve really pissed him off. But in the same breath, he pulls your hand to his lips. “I got so fucking scared when my mom called me. I rushed here and I was even in the middle of eating.”

You snort out a laugh, and your other hand reaches the half-eaten jello and offer it to him.

“No, thanks,” he groans in disgust. “I think I’ve had my fill of jellos during your last stay here.” Cue another eye roll from you, “You’re so dramatic.” Jungkook laughs and just stares at you. There goes your heart again, doing somersaults, and you think you’re growing hot by the second he stares you down.

You clear your throat, “Well, there’s a vending machine at the corner, I think.”

Jungkook nods then stands, and you think he’s heading to buy snacks when he locks the door.

“I think I prefer the snack already here, though.”

And there’s the Jungkook, you know. While you’d rather twist your other ankle than admit that sleazy line worked on you, the fact that you’re in a hospital isn’t lost on you.

“You can’t be serious, Jungkook.”

“Oh, but I am,” he grins. Hands trailing on your legs, but he remains mindful of your sprained ankle.

“I’ll be careful, babe.”

It’s shameless how you’re already breathless. His name leaves your lips in lust-filled whispers. Pants discarded on the side of your bed, Jungkook salivates at seeing the wet patch on your underwear.

Giving in to his primal desire, he moves the cloth aside and licks at your pussy.

“Gguk,” you moan. “Not much time. Just fuck me already.”

His head shakes, and you feel his tongue move inside you. “I haven’t had my fill yet.” His thumb plays with your clit as he eases two of his fingers inside you. Your back arches, moans stuck in your throat and you remind yourself you’re in public, albeit inside closed doors, you know how thin these walls are.

Jungkook hums, and you look down at him. The sight has you gushing, and your bent knees buckle. He’s rutting himself on the bed as his tongue and fingers play with you.

“Jungkook,” you call his name with a moan. He looks up, but his fingers continue to go in and out of your pussy. Your expressions match each other—eyes lidded with lust and mouth open in silent moans and groans.

“Fuck me. Now.” Giving your pussy one last suck, Jungkook finally listens to you. The bed creaks as he kneels to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down to his thighs.

You open your legs wider. “You really are my dream girl,” he grunts. “Will you take off your shirt for me, babe, please.”

You hum, watching him stroke himself as he waits for you to pull your shirt over your head. “I will if you will.”

In record time, Jungkook has his shirt scattered on the hospital floor. Scooting closer to you, Jungkook remains mindful of your foot. But it isn’t long until he rubs his tip to your clit.

“Say please.”

“Please, Jungkook.”

Satisfied at your whiny voice, he pushes his dick inside you. You both moan before Jungkook realizes where you are. And so he kisses you, mouth catching your moans. His hands move from your hips to your chest. Both of his hands full with your tits, fingers pulling playfully with your nipples. You wrap your good leg around his hips, foot pushing his ass closer to you.

Mouths parting for a breather, you lean back. It’s a filthy view, but the noises you make are extremely lewd. You now hear the metal creaking and your pussy squelching each time Jungkook thrusts inside you.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers from your neck. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.” You would have sensed how earnest he was if you weren’t too lost in your pleasure. But you hum and tangle your hand with his hair, as you pull him for a kiss. His thrusts are now deeper and harder. “Cum for me, babe.” Your body at his beck and call, you cum. Milking your orgasm, Jungkook continues to pound your pussy.

“Mm, sensitive,” you whine.

“One more, baby,” Jungkook asserts with his hands going down to rub circles on your clit. You’re delirious. “One more for me,” he grunts as he thrusts, “With me.”

You can feel another orgasm slowly approaching, and you know Jungkook’s about to reach his high, too. You open your eyes and find him already looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, and in that shared moment, you knew.

You come together with breathy moans.

- Jungkook lays on top of you, his body keeping you warm. “You’re coming home with me.”

You hum, “Have mercy on my pussy, Jeon. I don’t think I can even walk out of here, and it’s not because of my sprained foot.”

He raises his head from your chest, thumb circling your side boob. “I didn’t mean for another round, Y/N. Get your head out of the gutter,” he teases.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You have a foot injury. You need someone to take care of you.”

Cue your heart somersaults.

At your silence, Jungkook thinks he said something wrong, so he tries to lay out a more acceptable reason for having you in his home, “I think my mom would also prefer that she watches over you as you recover. Can’t have you attempting to skate with an injury.” At that, you lightly smack his head. “I’m not that stupid, Jeon,” you scoff.

“Right,” he laughs and lays his head back to your chest. He leaves a kiss on your sternum and you struggle to breathe as you try to calm your heart on haywire.

-

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Lilia Vanrouge – General of the Right Armor (Voice Lines)

Following is my translation of the voice lines for Lilia's General of the Right Armor card!

Spoilers after the cut!

Summon Lines

🦇: I am Lilia Vanrouge, General of the Right of the Land of Briar. Those who are prepared, step forth now.

🦇: The Land of Briar is a country ruled by the followers of the night. If you don’t wish to get hurt, then you better behave, human.

Home Lines

🦇: Ah, is it time for work?

🦇: Queen Maleficia took me in back when I was an orphan. What, you’re saying she’s nice? Absolutely not! She’ll give you hell if you piss her off!

🦇: My duty is to protect the Land of Briar. It was also a request from Levan- …from a dear friend who’s no longer with us.

🦇: For some reason, there’s something so familiar about the way Silver and Sebek move in battle. Just who in the world was their teacher?

🦇: I really don’t care for the whole “General of the Right” thing, but I also hate having to bow down to weaklings. As I’ve accepted this position, I will fulfill my duties.

🦇: It’d be great if our next ruler were a mild-mannered type… No, there’s no use even hoping for something like that, knowing the Draconians.

🦇: No way in hell am I going to Night Raven College. As if there’s anything I could learn from a bunch of little babies.

🦇: I can’t stand those damn “Silver Owl” guys. They go around doing whatever the hell they want, screwing up our forests and dirtying our water. We’ll chase ‘em out.

🦇: Baul, an Imperial Guard who hails from Sunset Savannah, has got a real backbone to him. It’s a shame he’s so damn loud and stubborn.

🦇: You think my mask is scary? That’s pretty much how all humans react to it. I, for one, think it’s very stylish.

🦇: If you need something from me, then hurry up and spit it out already. …You’re saying I resemble an acquaintance of yours? Okay, and? Don’t waste my time with stupid comments like that.

🦇: Lady Mallenoa was quite the tomboy when she was young. Sometimes, she’d sneak out the castle and make me go hang out with her in the forest.

Groovy

🦇: Call me whatever you want. Well, anything except “Father”.

Duo

🦇: Stay out of my way, Sebek. 🐊: I shall provide backup, Sir Lilia!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Ceil cousin and her baby both now trap in England

How would other characters outside the Phantomhive reaction will be seeing the pretty widowed mother?

Cousin Mother Reader | Yandere Black Butler

Sebastian 

is probably the one you have to watch out the most for 

He has the easiest access to you upon Ciel’s command

And he definitely sees you at your most vulnerable 

Feeding and raising your child, trying to somehow get comfortable in your new life

“My lady, you seem exhausted. If need be I would be more than happy to relieve some of your stress.”

“Humph! If you really wanted to help you’d let me leave.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Exactly so you can be of no assistance to me.”

He can outlast you 

Waiting until you either pass out from tiredness or stress

to lay your child to rest and nurse you to health

“I love how you keep me on my toes, Ms. (Y/n). But I’m persistent.”

Bardroy

He doesn’t mind the sexy mama visiting him in the kitchen to compliment throwaway his awesome food

Or if you can cook alongside him he’s even more enthused

He totally agrees with the circumstances that keep you there 

But he also understands your frustration

Something he knows not many others in the home

“Well I see why yer feelin’ trapped…”

“See?”

“But thats no reas’n ta hate the yung master. He’s only tryin’ to help.”

And without Ciel’s say-so you and your his kid are his priority

If your so insistent on going out you’ll go with him right?

Like on a little date

He likes his women stubborn so he’s willing to compete with Sebastian on this

“Well Missus would you rather take I you to the market or him?”

“Please Bardroy, Miss (Y/n) is meant to travel with me, as the young master intended.”

“I prefer to travel with Bard. Don’t you think so sweetie?”

“Yeah!”

 😠

😏

Mey-Rin

Mey-Rin is similar to Bardroy but she has loads more access to you

She handles your clothes, dirty and not 

She delivers your documents or late night meals

If she isn’t sharing the room with you she’s guarding you at night

“Ahh~Lady (Y/n)’s sleepin’ soundly, yes she is!...I’m sure she’d like it I ‘elped her massage, she would!”

She thinks your the coolest and will spend her time with you orwatchingyoufrombehindthebushes

She thinks you and your kid are so cute 

She couldn’t be happier that you can’t actually leave

Not that she’d let you

She already thinks its progessive enough that you work 

And that deserves all the praise

“Whoa mistress (Y/n) read that whole contract in such a short amount of time?! Well its just like her to be the best, yes it is!”

Finnian

Finney is happy he gets to play with your kid

Though he knows to be gentle

But he hasn’t known love until you pat him on the head,smiling “Good job, Finny.”

From then he’s like an overpowered labrador

Happily following behind you to join your kid in trying to garner your attention

When Sebastian’s not dragging him away in light of his work

He’s trying to rest his head on your lap onyourchest

Or join you in your office Bedroom

While his naivete may allow you to get away with somethings 

He always seems to recall just how sad he’d be if you tried to leave

“Miss (Y/n)....you can’t leav….no…no…I won’t let you! You have to stay with me!”

Undertaker

He’s intrigued by you

For the time he’s been alive its not everyday he finds a woman so argumentative

But of course your in the company of the abnormal anyway

He’s thrilled to find that you often join in his laughter

Or your able to banter with him which Sebastian and Ciel avoid

He often is ignored by the duo which makes it easier for him to leave an impression on you

“So ‘Miss,’ is it? Is your husband truly out the picture?”

“If you count being dead out of the picture then yes.”

“Ah then would you give me *flips his bangs up* an old crone, like me a chance?”

“U-undertaker? Y-you’re eyes are–!”

“Shhh shhh. Let’s keep that as secret, for now. But do tell may I steal you away?”

He’s had time to think about what woman want to hear 

But he doubts your willing to accept normal means

So he’ll just take you for now, only to be stolen back by Sebastian when they realize you or your son is missing

“Don’t mind the lack of space in the coffin Deary, its meant for three!”

[grapefives]

ESTOY PERDIENDO | DR

luffy + law + drabbles (separately) x gn!reader (male lenient though)

reader w/gravitation manipulation powers + denial of feelings + fluff + love confessions + reader is a musician (best buddies w/brook) + WANO SPOILERS! + crewmate reader +ft.frobin

a/n: i say drabbles but lowkey they might as well be scenarios lmao (title translates to: i’m losing)

your captain is very known for going all out in a fight. especially when it’s some bigshot. you really loved that about him. you couldn’t help but feel the deadly need to be there once he’s worn out after a battle.

for example, right now, as soon as his body gave out from his gear, falling down the sky, you fought yamato to catch him. seriously, what a stubborn girl- er, boy. he’s your captain! as his crewmate you have to save him!

“luffy, you okay?” you ask rhetorically, making your way anywhere that was away from the rubble.

luffy pants, barely able to make you out from his blurry sight. “i’m… hungry.”

“and hurt, let’s find chopper,” you say gently, carrying him in your arms tightly.

“thanks,” he mumbles, melting into your arms.

“you guys are really something!” yamato clamors with fondness.

“yeah,” you smile down at your cute captain.

you feel so warm that luffy really doesn’t think he’d want to let go even after he blacks out. he holds on though, making sure he finishes his business with momonosuke before finally dropping.

luffy is someone who trusts quite easily, trust towards his crew mates is blind. yet, out of all his crew mates, he finds himself more fond with you. he loves to talk to you, to go on adventures with you and… secretly look at you for as long as you stay unaware of his gaze.

your captain is oblivious. he’s the type of person that mistakes love for friendship. one: he doesn’t know what love is. two: he’s pretty sure you’re his best friend. best friends like each other.

a lot.

which is why, when he wakes up, the first person he looks for is you. upon not seeing you, he deflates for a moment, until his stomach grumbles and he knows food is his priority.

“MEAT!!” he yells, chanting it despite how fast the plates are placed in front of him.

he’s devouring the plates as ruckus happens around him. momonosuke appears, he swears he couldn’t recognize the kid, and then yamato, who he soon learns was on a vigil.

“woah! thanks yamabro! must be why i feel so great!”

yamato grins, looking around. “where’s y/n!? y/n was starving too! y/n has to eat too, now that luffy is awake!”

“huh? why?” luffy tilts his head as he chews on some meat.

“y/n was also on a vigil, they liked the custom.” nami explains, not seeing how luffy’s eyes slightly widen and a small blush forms on his face.

you soon walk in, smiling wide when you see luffy. “glad to see our captain is awake!”

“sit down and eat,” luffy orders as he stretches his arm and grabs you, pulling you and making you gasp at the unexpected action.

if anyone knows anything about luffy stretching and doing things like that, is that the bounce effect is really jet lagging. so, due to the recoil, you slam into him and the two of you tumble over the floor.

he shouldn’t think much of it, not with the way your face is so close to his and any strands of your hair are tickling his skin. he pushes aside his flustered emotions and laughs, sitting up and shoving a plate of food in your hands.

and when you smile at him, wide and enchanting, he really puts in more thought about his feelings.

but again, he pushes them aside and goes on with his life. and yet again, he falls into the pit of his feelings for you during the remaining few days it takes to repair the ships.

“y/n, let’s go see if there’s food to eat!” he sayys clinging onto you.

“ah, hold on luffy, usopp said he wanted to switch shifts in a bit.”

“but you’ve been doing that all week!!” he whines,”spend time with me!”

he’s literally acting like a clingy partner. you can’t help but smile at his cuteness.

“oi, why are you staring at me like that?” luffy asks, feeling a bit nervous at your doe eyes and lopsided smile.

“huh?” you blink. you feel your ears turn red, “how?”

“almost the way sanji looks at women.”

you sputter, “luffy, you’re seeing things! it’s cus you’re hungry, how about you go to the banquet hall with usopp once he gets here-“

luffy frowns, “but i want to go with you!”

“luffy, seriously. i’m busy.”

“spend time with meee, captain’s orders!!”

you shake your head, only to continue and see how far he can go. you knows he’s stubborn, you had already mentally agreed to go with him but you like to tease him.

“don’t you want to set sail soon?” you ask, “we’re almost done with repairs. it won’t take long.”

“you always say that!”

“my, my,” robin laughs softly when she casually walks by, “better please his wishes.”

“luffy’s acting like a jealous boyfriend,” franky laughs, spawning out of nowhere.

luffy stands up straight. boyfriend is what? another level to best friends? he stares at them before staring at you, who seems to be blushing at their comments.

“a-anyways,” you continue, “i’ma go help franky-“

“if i’m your boyfriend will you come with me!?”

your eyes go wide, and you genuinely wonder if he even knows what he’s saying. “come again?”

“if i’m your boyfriend, will you give me attention?”

“l-luffy do you even know what you’re asking?”

“i’m asking to be your boyfriend!” he huffs, cheeks flushed a nice rosy color and puffed.

“and do you even know what that is?” you seem a bit troubled, almost sad.

there’s no point to agreeing if luffy doesn’t know what he’s asking. yes, you’ve grown these feeling for him a while ago, but he’s your captain. you don’t want to ruin that friendship, nor trust, with your feelings. plus, luffy never showed any sort of interest in that. you were just kidding yourself.

“it means you get to be with me! no matter what, i’m top priority!”

“i thought you said me reaching my dreams was top priority when i joined the crew-“

“second top priority!”

you can’t help but smile sadly, “i’d rather not, dating is pretty noncommon among pirates, it could interfere with lots of things.”

“but y/n~!” he clings to you again, “just say yes! i’ll be a good boyfriend! and if i’m not you can teach me!”

you blush, “teach you-“

his puppy eyes are just so… you groan.

“are you sure, a romantic relationship entitles other things. it’s a huge commitment.”

“if it has to do with you i’ll do it!”

you… “luffy i’m not very sure… i feel like you’re not taking into account how i feel-“

“do you like me?”

your breath is caught in your throat. “well, yes-“

“then what’s the issue!?”

you’re stumped.

“luffy,” robin buts in, “a relationship means more dedication to one another. it’s romantic.”

“romantic,” luffy repeats. he looks at you, “that means more hugging and stuff, right?”

“well, yes? for starters yeah,” you nod, heart beating like crazy.

“then say yes!” luffy huffs again.

you stare at him, then at robin and franky, who smile. “o-okay.”

luffy’s grin had never been so wide. you’re pretty sure you’ll be fine.

“play a song while we eat,” he says as he drags you along.

“luffy, i recall you said you wanted me to eat too. my hands will be full and i’d rather not dirty my instrument.”

“anything’s is possible if you’re my boyfriend.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. you feel so warm, so happy. for sure, everything will be alright.

trusting people doesn’t come very easily to law. even the man he owes his life to struggled to gain his trust, but that experience is what made him even colder. the walls he’s built so high around him were even guarded. he was a tough nut to crack.

and darn it! he hates you! he hates you so much! why? because you made him so… so soft! it’s like his walls are actually futons wrapped around him and he hates it!

“y/n-ya,” his voice is dull and his gaze is deadly.

“h-hold on cap!” you pant as you jump over rubble, holding him tightly in your arms.

“y/n-ya, let me down.”

“no offense cap but you can barely keep yourself awake-“ your breath hitches when the hilt of his sword buts your chin.

“down.”

“almost out of here-“ you trip, and he almost falls to the ground if it weren’t for you quickness, your fingers twitching to activate your powers, causing him to float for a measly few seconds before you get back up and pick him up.

“you idiot!” law yells, annoyed with how much care you’re giving him. he’s really trying to fight you but he can’t deny how worn down he is. but he won’t tell you that, duh.

“hey! stay still!”

“don’t give me orders you nimwit! let me down! i’m not weak!”

you growl, “law! we’re almost there! calm down!”

he stares at you, almost shocked at how aggressive you’ve gotten. his face heats up, unsure whether to continue his fight or actually give in. you are holding him quite strongly actually, if he were to allow himself to melt for a few seconds he knows he might fall unconscious. heck, he really wants to.

but all these enemies around! one look at this and he won’t heat the end of it! especially by the eustass bastard.

“bepo! are you okay?!” you ask when you see the rest of your crew.

“he doesn’t do well with heat!” sachi yells, “seriously! he’s a pain in the ass-“ he pauses, “captain!?”

law groans, so ashamed that he presses himself into you, wishing he could disappear. he focuses on anything other than the situation he’s in, which leads to him settling on your heartbeat. and he hates how much he enjoys it. both knowing you’re fine and being in your arms. it makes him realize how much he’s longed having you this close, makes him realize how strong his feelings for you are.

truly, he wishes he wasn’t such a coward when it comes to his feelings for you and you in general. and as he hears momonosuke give his speech after everything is settling down, you’re still touching him- putting bandaids and ointments on his injuries, bepo helping you as well.

and when everyone is settling for the night, exhausted from the last few months, especially the day’s fights, he almost wants to call for you.

“captain, any bandaids you want me to change before leaving?” you ask, startling him awake before he had fallen into unconsciousness.

he sits up on his futon, staring at you. “y/n-ya,” he says softly, unsure what to do or say.

is exhaustion going to make him reveal his feelings? will he own up to it? no, he can’t lose himself. he can’t let himself go soft. love makes you soft, right?

“-okay?”

“what?” he blinks.

you’re kneeling in front of him, a worried look on your face. “i asked you if you’re feeling okay. you’ve been more silent and out of it lately. you really need to rest. the guys are already sleeping, we should too. i just wanted to check on you before doing so-“ you fall silent when he leans into you, all his weight pressing into your chest.

you wrap your arms around him, afraid he could fall over if you didn’t hold steady. “captain?”

“y/n-ya,” his voice is so coarse, almost on the verge of giving out. “stay with me for the night.”

your heart skips a beat, and for a second you’re both scared he hears how flustered you are and to say yes.

“cap, you-“

“please,” he whispers, almost inaudible.

you close your eyes, sighing. “captain, i’m not sure. i… if i… if i could i would.” your heart hurts.

law looks up, he looks quite adorable tired. “why not? who did you agree to sleep with? i’m your captain, it was an order not a question.”

you stare at him, almost… sorry. you feel bad about your feelings. sleeping here with him will only make them worse.

“i… you know how bepo gets, poor thing. i better go before-“ you’re surprised when he hugs you, tight.“captain,” you try to pry him off of you, “are you feeling okay? why are you behaving so-“

“i love you.” he blurts into your chest. “i…” he squeezes you harder, “i want to love you.”

you falter, “w-what?”

he’s silent, almost scared at how this could go. and he’s so, so tired. so on edge that if you say no and you leave him alone in his uneasiness, he will most likely cry.

“law…” your hands tremble as they grab his face, his face is flushed with a lovely red, eyes drowsy and glassy. you’ve never seen him so… so raw. “tell me, is that true?”

he nods, not trusting his voice.

“i’m sorry,” you say, shattering his heart, “i really want to kiss you so i will,” he doesn’t even process that until after he feels a warmth on his lips.

and when he acknowledges the situation, he melts.

and he doesn’t regret putting his heart in your hands. because he knows he has yours in his.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook loves you, and he wants you both to eat well.

> fluff, slight angst / wc: 3.4k

> warnings: yn doesn’t have a very healthy relationship with food :( + jungkook’s spit? 😭

note: this has always been in my drafts and i guess i was lowkey scared because it gets personal, but i finally wrote it :D

—

“sometimes it feels like i’m only eating for the sake of survival, you know? so i can’t be too bothered to cook, or care if it doesn’t taste good when i do.”

once again, your casual words from a long time ago echo in jungkook’s mind this fine sunday morning, as he works hard to perfectly fold the omelette on the pan.

he smiles to himself when he succeeds. he hums a song as he places it on top of the hot kimchi rice on your plate, sitting beside his with the not-so-successful, practice round omelette. that’s when he hears the familiar sound of your fluffy slippers dragging against the floor, too sleepy and tired to make an effort to do proper steps. he carefully sets down the two plates infront of the chairs facing each other, before meeting you halfway at the entrance of the kitchen.

“morning, baby.” he chirps his greeting as he wraps his arms around you, but you hold onto his muscled biceps to stop him.

“back hurts.” you cry out quietly, turning around to clasp your hands together around your nape. he chuckles, understanding what you’re asking him to do in a heartbeat.

he wraps his arms around you again before picking you up effortlessly, making sure to support your elbows as he leans back and squeezes you. you moan in satisfaction when you feel the cracks, relief instantly rushing into your veins as you feel significantly lighter. when he brings your feet back to the ground, you turn around and embrace him properly with your arms around his waist. you bury your face in the smell of your boyfriend’s favorite fabric softener, brain so hazy you almost fall back into sleep.

“feel better?” he asks to confirm, soothingly rubbing your back, putting pressure here and there- around your shoulder blades. this is why he scolds you about your posture regularly, because you are a stubborn creature of habit.

“breakfast smells good.” you stand on your toes to take a peek of the food over his shoulder. “and that’s a lot of rice.”

“just eat what you can finish then.” he kisses your forehead before pulling away to head towards the dining table again. “where do you want to eat?”

“living room.” you reply while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, feeling uncomfortable because of the hair framing your face being damp after you freshened up. “want to watch queer eye. so they can inspire me to clean.”

jungkook brings out a wooden tray from the shelf. he carefully places the two plates, two glasses, and a pitcher of cold water. “i can clean instead. you rest. don’t you need to study for your exam later?”

“i’d rather clean than study.” you pout, following his footsteps leading to the living room. “i hate it more than cleaning.”

“what about jungkook?”

“what about you?” you plop down on the couch, knees on your chest as you sink into the cushion. he sets down the tray on the center table, and it produces a thump sound. “i love you.”

with a radiant smile, he offers you a plate. “wait,” you mumble, putting a pillow over your lap before taking it from his hands.

“ah!” his eyes widen with late realization. “i forgot the utensils. hold on.”

he speedwalks to and from the kitchen, and you turn on the television to play the episode you’re going to watch.

this day began with you thinking that you don’t have much of an appetite, but after the first spoonful of your favorite kimchi fried rice jungkook special with a bite-sized piece of omelette on top, you became unstoppable.

he steals a glance every now and then, delighted to see your plump cheeks devouring the food that he cooked. the joy it brings him never changes, no matter how many times he has served you his food. you make him feel loved and appreciated, and most of all, happy when you’re eating well.

needless to say, he’s been worried. you have been eating less than the usual, finishing the food in no more than ten minutes so you could go back to doing school works right away.

“my busy bee.” he sighed, squatting infront of you.

you looked up from your laptop, straightening your posture when you realized you were hunching over again.

“hi,” he greeted you again, fixing your glasses before it completely slid off your nose bridge. he could see the reflection of a research article reflecting on the lens.

you scrunched your nose, the simple action making you blush. “hi, my love. need anything?”

“just came by to give you a snack.”

he inched the bowl of assorted nuts mixed with colorful m&m’s closer to you. they reminded you of the highlights decorating your notes.

“i mixed them myself.”

you could tell. you have never seen a trail mix with these many types of nuts in your life. “chopped the nuts yourself too?”

“of course.” he grinned proudly before pointing at the m&m’s. “that’s dark chocolate too.”

a look of bewilderment painted your face. “dark m&m’s exist?!”

jungkook tucks your hair behind your ear so it won’t get into your food. pretty, he thinks to himself when you give him an appreciative smile.

he finishes his food first, gulping down his glass of water as he watches a guy have a makeover in preparation for his marriage proposal to his girlfriend.

you finish yours as well, leaving your plate on the tray as you chew on the final bite. by no exaggeration, you did not leave a single grain of rice.

“oh, my baby! you finally ate well.” he beams, pinching your cheek lightly.

“i got inspired to clean my plate because the food was yummy.” you praise him, slumping against his side after drinking three gulps of water.

“i’m proud of you. you should wear the angel pajamas tonight.” his tattooed hand squeezes your thigh, covered by seokjin’s devil pajamas from the artist-made collection.

his suggestion makes you chuckle, finding the character holding a pitchfork printed on the cloth adorable. “should i?”

—

you and jungkook eat samgyupsal for dinner, because apparently, last night wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving. but you barely ate yesterday that you forgot that you even had it, which you suspect is part of the reason why he wants to have it again. and you’re grateful, because you can enjoy it with an appetite this time.

“here, baby. eat your greens.” he wraps a piece of the freshly grilled meat in lettuce, feeding it to you with a happy grin.

your jaw works extra hard to chew the leaf occupying most of your mouth. “that was too big. the ratio was totally off!” you whine while reaching for the glass of water to push it down.

“it was? sorry.” but he doesn’t look or sound guilty, especially when he opens his mouth widely to stuff it full of his favorite food. with waaay more meat than lettuce.

you scoff, putting the cooked strips of samgyupsal in his bowl before laying out more on the grill. he tries taking the tongs from you to take over, but you put your hand behind you with a pout.

“let me. this is only the time i can cook without messing it up.”

it wouldn’t be shocking to learn that you do get insecure about your lack of cooking skills. look, you’ve tried. you lived alone for years before moving in with jungkook. there was no other choice but to try. about a couple million times. you followed the recipes, followed your instincts next. you didn’t like eating your undercooked or overcooked, too salty or too bland food— but eating outside everyday wasn’t a luxury you had. over time, it came to feel like a chore. eating. and you hated yourself for it, all because you couldn’t get shit right. it was not the right way to live, but you felt stuck.

so perhaps it was natural that you gravitated towards jungkook. jungkook who has the patience for cooking. puts the perfect amount of seasonings. has incredible chopping skills. watches cooking shows religiously. jungkook who enjoys food with his entire body. makes brain food when you study. jungkook who is feeding the both of you while you grill the meat because he just learned that you enjoy holding the tongs more than you’re afraid of oil splattering.

“this is only lettuce,” it starts off as a mere statement of observation, until it fully registers in your brain. “jungkook, i swear to god- if you don’t stop feeding me grass!”

after dinner, you go straight to studying to prepare for your test on tuesday. the center table of the living room being clattered with your study materials is a very familiar sight, somehow jungkook finds himself feeling fond of it, as he sits on the carpeted floor next to you. he has earbuds on, an audiobook paused on his tablet.

“hi. this seat isn’t taken, is it?” he sends a charming smile your way, his knee brushing against yours as he makes himself comfortable.

“well, it is now.” you roll your eyes jokingly, twirling the blue highlighter using your fingers as you try to retain the terms you’re reading inside your brain.

“i’m studying, too. english.” he makes space for his device, collecting the stray sheets of paper scattered on the table before tucking them in between one of your notebooks.

“do you have a test, too?”

“kind of?” he answers, sounding enthusiastic as he grooves and bounces to no music. he’s the exact opposite of you. “i have a schedule with my teacher on tuesday too. i want to make him proud that i did advanced reading.”

jungkook makes all of the people in his life proud. he is never not eager to learn— mistakes or fallbacks only motivate him to pour more of his time and effort into getting things right. putting aside the sad pouts, frustrated whines usually consisting of no, no, this is not it or please let me do it again or i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing wrong; and the tsk sound he makes as he tilts his head to the side as if he’s trying to knock some sense to himself before he tries again. what matters most is that he tries again and again and again, and he makes you want to do the same, too. you think of him when you want to give up, when things feel unbearable. you channel the willpower he thrives on because sometimes you forget that you don’t want to be a weak person, and you just need a little push to be reminded of that.

there is a sense of contentment and peace in the atmosphere as you study in your own little bubbles. you’re still memorizing while jungkook reads the story out loud with the narrator every now and then to practice his pronunciation. he uses his phone to search for the meaning of unfamiliar words. he decided that petrichor is one of the most beautiful words he’s learned so far.

he entertains you during your ten-minute break, peeling another orange as he speaks out his mind about something that he is both curious and annoyed about. “why are there so many words with a lot of different meanings? it’s too difficult. my brain has not much space left!”

you’re not really given a chance to speak because he feeds you a slice of orange, then himself, then you again. you can only smile in amusement with your mouth full, gathering the seeds at the corner of your tongue before spitting them out on the tissue he laid out.

you go back to studying, and he finishes up twenty minutes and two more oranges later. he plays around with the peels he carefully worked hard on not breaking earlier, making you a bracelet instead of the choker he originally wanted because of the warning look you gave him when he tried putting it on you.

he crawls on the couch you’re leaning on, scrolling through his phone for a few minutes until he grows restless again. he drags his body downward, folding his knees to level with you.

“are you almost finished?” he asks hopefully, his warm breath fanning on the shell of your ear.

you flinch with a giggle, rubbing your ear against your shoulder to make the tickle go away. “yup. just need to go over them again real quick.”

“okaaay.” he replies cutely. he suddenly gets up to leave the room, and you frown sadly when you find yourself alone again. the sound of the air purifier is almost deafening- it mocks you. reminds you of all the times you wished on ceilings for someone to make this silence bearable at most. you sigh, taking off your glasses to rest your tired eyes for a moment.

you crack your eyes open again when you feel your boyfriend’s presence infront of you.

“are you done now?” he repeats his question, holding up your angel pajamas he mentioned this morning. more than that, he’s wearing his own set, too. the first two buttons of the top undone. this is the first time you’re seeing him wear it, and butterflies erupt in your stomach at the thought of him wearing it because he wants to match with you.

so even though you’re not exactly done, you say yes anyway. you change into the pajamas, and exclaim “i’m already brushing my teeth!” with a mouth full of toothpaste when jungkook peeks into the bathroom to ask if you want a sandwich for your midnight snack.

—

it’s a reflex at this point, your feet carrying you to wherever jungkook is. the bus you get on from the university to his company, the three-minute walk it takes to get there from the bus stop. the smell lingering in the air changes with every five steps as you pass by the restaurants and street vendors. your stomach grumbles pathetically.

so when jungkook opens the door with his lips attached to his bottle filled with his favorite chocolate-flavored protein shake that you (not so) secretly take a sip or two of every now and then, your hands reach for it immediately.

“what the-” he looks down at his empty hands, and then back at you taking small sips from the bottle as you spin around on his chair.

he shuts the door before catching the armrest to make the chair stop, standing infront of you with his arms crossed. “did you just steal from me?”

you smile at him innocently, his tall frame towering over you. you clutch the bottle tightly in your hand, wary of him taking it away. “what’s yours is mine, right?”

“then you get mad at me using your shaver once-”

“it’s my shaver.” you retort, in disbelief with the example he has given. and it was definitely not just once. “that’s totally different!”

he pouts so big his cupid’s bow touches the tip of his nose. “that has my saliva in it.”

you raise an eyebrow. “so? atleast it’s chocolate-flavored this time. your spit tastes like spit.”

“what does it taste like exactly?”

“water with a hint of mint?”

he sighs in defeat. nothing he says ever phase you, so why does he still try? so instead, he sits on your lap.

“yah, jungkook!” you gasp, hitting his back with your fists. femur, the strongest bone of the body- this must be the reason why god made them that way.

“you’re so- heavy! move!”

“no! give me back my protein shake!”

“i finished it! there was like three sips left, you dummy!” you groan, pushing him off with all your strength. he gets nudged off a little, and that’s your window of opportunity to make a move. you quickly part your thighs, and his butt ends up falling in the space between.

“here-” you hang your arm over his shoulder, waving the bottle infront of his face. he takes it from your hand, shaking it to check if you really finished it.

you didn’t. you just wanted to bicker.

he gulps down what is left with a satisfied hum, putting back the cover before setting it down on the left side of his table, far away from his equipment. he leans his back against you, reaching for your hands to wrap them around his waist. still heavy, but bearable.

if the protein shake wasn’t enough of an indication that he just finished working out, his damp hair touches your cheek. you shiver lightly at the coldness.

he clicks his tongue, staring at the ocean displayed as the wallpaper of his computer. “i’m hungry.”

at that, you feel your stomach grumble again. “me too.”

“did you eat the breakfast i left at the table?”

“i woke up late. i’m sorry.” you jut out your bottom lip, upset that you weren’t able to eat the food he prepared for you. “i put the berries in a lunchbox and ran out of the house.”

his lips brush against your cheek before he puckers them up to plant a kiss. “it’s okay. i picked the berries myself. went to three different farms.”

“now you’re just lying.” you flick his neck without force, and he winces dramatically. “i bought those at the supermarket.”

“but i bought the blueberries. now kiss it better.” he counters, pointing at his neck.

so needy and dramatic.

your arms wrap around his waist again to tug him closer. instead of kissing the part that you flicked, you go the other way to kiss his mole. your favorite, after the one under his lip. the light touch prompts jungkook’s heart to do somersaults inside his ribcage.

he intertwines his hand with yours over his stomach, and you end up back hugging him with your weight leaning forward. “how did your test go?”

“wasn’t sure about two questions, but i think i did pretty good.”

“hmm, that’s my baby.” he rasps, kissing the back of your hand.

you hide the overly pleased smile on your face, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “how ‘bout you?”

“oh, english is my next schedule. let’s go grab lunch first.” he checks his black wrist watch. “we have more than an hour. what do you want to eat?”

“sushi!” you blurt out, excitedly shaking his shoulders.

“okay!” he responds with the same level of enthusiasm, standing up from the chair to face you. “let’s get gimbap!”

“sushi.” you whine out, using the strength of your legs to anchor yourself to the chair when he tugs at your hand.

“but gimbap is better. let’s go.”

he laughs out loud when the chair starts rolling along with you as he tugs you towards the door. “you can’t bring the chair to the restaurant!”

you shake your head stubbornly. “love, sushi. i’ll order the ones with fish this time.”

“you? eating fish that isn’t tuna?” he raises an eyebrow skeptically. “i don’t trust you.”

“i’ll give them another chance. you can trust me this time.” you bat your eyelashes, making good use of your charms.

you will seriously try, but knowing yourself well, there is a 90% chance that your boyfriend will have to get them wrapped up for take-out and then order your usual.

and knowing him well too, he’s not difficult to persuade. “alright, sushi. let’s get it!”

“wait. my bag-” you turn back, reaching for the khaki shoulder bag you left on the couch.

“just leave it, baby. we’ll come back anyway.” he says impatiently, circling his arm around your waist to bring you outside of the studio with him.

“but i need my wallet because i’ll buy our lunch.” you scold him as you punch in the code of the locked door.

his face lights up comically at the mention of free food. “ah, really? then can i have ramen, too? oh! takoyaki!”

you roll your eyes at the cheeky smile on his lips, stepping foot inside his studio again. “okay. order anything you want.”

—

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