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#and also without caring whether or not it has been done before!!! (<screaming at myself)
caffeinatedopossum · 11 months
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Might fuck around and write a book without judging my skills for said writing and with only judging instead the amount of happiness or satisfaction I feel from making it
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konnorhasapen · 1 year
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I FORGOT NOW THAT IM ON TUMBLR WITH OTHER PEOPLE WHO SHARE MY HYPERFIXATION I CAN TALK ENDLESSLY ABOUT THIS SHIT WITHOUT HAVING TO SHRINK IN ON MYSELF WHEN I REALIZE NO ONE IS ACTUALLY LISTENING/ACTUALLY CARES ABOUT WHAT IM TALKING SO PASSIONATELY ABOUT-
Okay- so- I am a firm believer that Sam was absolutely right (back in the audio where Darlin' and Sam had just been informed that Quinn's work had been spotted out in the open-) when he mentioned that the body that was found could've very well been bait for Darlin'. I 100% believe it was meant to be bait for them. Like,,, as much as I parade around screaming about how stinky and stupid dumb-dumb Little Orphan Quinnie is, I know for a fact that he's not actually that much of an idiot. That being said, he definitely knows about the blood bond, and that body being dropped was basically him saying "I know we're connected, so come and get me." He's absolutely smarter than we all want him to be- I mean, he's a 50y/o vamp who was turned by old blood, we're kinda forced to give credit where it's due. We heard back in Sam's first audio that Quinn tends to clean up his messes pretty damn well—save for Fred and Bright, as Sam also mentioned—so, to me, there is no way in any hell that Quinn just "accidentally forgets to clean up a body." He knows he's being hunted by the Department. And he knows that somehow, Darlin' will catch wind of that body with the hopes that they'll come right to him where he can finally get things done and wrapped up. Whether that be because he's not sure how much of a range the blood bond has, or because they have people helping them out in the Department (which therein lies my fear for Ansel's safety seeing as he's the one doing most of the investigating up in Ferris.)
And I can hear you already "but Koob! Why would he kill them if he knew the Shaw Pack would just hunt him down like they're the goddamn forgotten Gods of The Wild Hunt-" aHA! But that's just the thing! Quinn knows Darlin's back in town, but he has no idea they've renewed their bond with the Pack- let alone definitely stronger than it was before. For all he knows, they're still the lone wolf they were when they met! He doesn't know Angel and Baabe even exist yet, so he doesn't see any places he can get in and torture them emotionally or mentally before he just offs them and calls it a night.
Until Darlin' didn't show up to find him where he left that bait. Now he knows that something—or someone—is keeping them from doing something reckless. And now that he knows,
He's on his way.
Anyway, thanks for listenin' to my little rant :D I've been keepin' this puppy(no pun intended) in my noggin every since that Gregory audio and the following Sam audio dropped!^-^
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marinahavik · 5 months
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A flower stained with blood
Prologue part 1
This is my destiny, since birth, I am a Yozakura, whether I want it or not, I will be destined to get dirty with blood
Yozakura Yumi
— You should understand me, I'm not a child, I know how to take care of myself!- Yumi stamped her foot hard on the ground, with her eyebrows furrowed.
— You're still a child, I'm doing this for your sake! -Rem, the firstborn among the seven brothers, replied, adjusting his glasses against his face.
—Ren, stop it now, Yumi is right, you can't keep her like that in the mansion, she has the right to leave whenever she wants, just like us.- Keiko, the second sister, started defending Yumi, approached his older brother with an expression of disgust
—You need to stop being paranoid and…
—Be quiet, I know what I'm doing, it's for her own good—Ren interrupted his sister, before she could finish her sentence.
She looked furious at the man in front of her, and was about to say something quite rude when she was interrupted.
—That's not fair- Yumi muttered under her breath
—I already told you, this isn't polite, speak louder— Ren said without taking his eyes off Keiko, and not paying much attention to the youngest daughter's furious murmurs.
—THIS IS NOT FAIR, I HAVE AS MUCH RIGHT TO LEAVE THE MANSION AS YOU DO- Yumi, she cried with anger and frustration as she spoke
—Do you think I like this?, being a bird in a golden cage?, you can leave whenever you want, but I have to stay in the mansion, you can do cool things and I'm stuck here, is that fair? - he said looking at his brother with his eyes shining with his tears but also with his hatred, inside his head the sound of a snake began to appear, along with a strange voice speaking different ways that the girl could use to get rid of your brother, Yumi shook her head ignoring that voice, which always appeared when she was angry.
—DON'T YELL AT ME I'M DOING THIS FOR YOUR GOOD- Ren said starting to get irritated with his sister
—Ren, stop it now- Keiko tried to calm both brothers
– for my own good? FOR MY GOOD? WHERE LEAVING ME CLOSED IN THIS MANSION FOR SEVEN YEARS WITHOUT GOING OUT TO THE OUTSIDE WORLD IS FOR MY GOOD? -the youngest girl's screams were so loud that the other brothers came out to see what was happening, and watched the fight.
—They're still out there, I'm protecting you - Ren threw the hair that fell over his face back, irritated by the fact that his little sister didn't understand that this was for her own good.
—Protecting and being paranoid are two different things, since the incident you left the poor thing locked in the mansion, a Yozakura should flourish and prosper but you are leaving your younger sister withered because of your paranoia.- the third daughter Aiko has already arrived intruding on the conversation.
—I'm the current boss, I should be in the fights with you, not hidden at home.- Yumi looked into Ren's eyes, with her black eyes shining with hatred.
—Because you are the current leader, you must be protected, after all, unlike us you don't have Nōryoku (ability), you are safer at home- Ren continued with his opinion.
— even though I don't have Nōryoku, I still have my Blooming, and you know it's strong, I know how to take care of myself, I know more than 5 types of martial arts, I have knowledge about different types of poison and handling weapons, whatever they are. white or fire, I can defend myself, so you should let me out- Yumi tried to argue but was interrupted
—IF YOU HADN'T LEFT HOME THAT DAY, YOU WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN KIDNAPPED AND OUR MOTHER WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!.- blinded by anger Ren ended up mentioning a topic that was forbidden in the family, all the brothers looked at him shocked that he had talked about that, And Yumi had stopped talking, and started sobbing.
When he realized what he had done, Ren tried to apologize, but Yumi had already run away, and the others looked at him in disappointment.
—Congratulations idiot, you had to talk about this subject, right?- Yuki, the fourth son, said while cleaning his weapon.
—I'm going after her - Seiji was already going after his younger twin but was stopped
—Better not, she needs time alone! - Akemi said holding his younger twin's shoulder
Both brothers were worried about the youngest twin of the trio, but they both knew that as much as they were inseparable, Yumi needed time alone.
The girl was hiding in the treasure room, sitting in a corner as she cried, holding a music box that had been her mother's last gift.
She wound up the box, listening to the music and calming down a little, after taking a deep breath she put the box in her bag, wiped the tears from her face and began to walk around the room.
Looking at every treasure or relic that the family had acquired from generations past, she played with the objects she found, to distract herself from the recent fight.
While looking through an old box, she saw a strange book with a dark cover with a cherry tree on the cover, curious she picked it up and analyzed it. Yumi, didn't remember the book, so she decided to keep it in her bag, and then ask one of his brothers about the strange object.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow, she quickly took a knife out of her sleeve and threw it towards the shadow, but there was nothing.
Still with her senses alert, she walked to where the knife fell, picking it up and putting it away, examining her surroundings, again she felt a presence, and quickly had the blade in her hands, placing the object at the throat of the possible enemy, only to Seeing that the person who attacked was Seiji, who had his hands up in surrender, Yumi lowered the knife, letting out a tired sigh.
— Seiji, I know you're worried about me, but I want to be alone for a while
— you continue to be a small threat - said the boy, placing his hand on his throat to see if there were any cuts, letting out a small laugh.
— Seiji that's not funny, I could have pierced your throat- Yumi let out a sigh as she walked away from her brother, walking around the room again
— but it didn't pierce, I admit it was my fault for scaring you, but you didn't cut me so don't worry, and I was worried about you, Ren was an idiot bringing up that subject, so I came to see how you were- the Elder Yozakura spoke, looking at his sister, knowing this was a sensitive topic for her.
But Yumi wasn't listening, she knew that Ren didn't want to bring up that subject, but even though she knew that, it still hurt her, she knew very well that she was to blame for what happened, her brother didn't need to remind her of that fact.
The two brothers remained silent until Yumi broke it.
— When did you get this mirror? - the girl asked, approaching the object
On the wall was an ancient-looking mirror, made of silver, with various ornaments, for some reason Yumi seemed enchanted by it, for a very quick moment, Yumi no longer saw her reflection, but the image of a woman with dark skin, the The upper part was bare except for long sleeves made of a transparent fabric showing the tattoos, tattoos in white, he wore a thick gold necklace around his neck, the accessory looked more like a kind of collar, a crown that looked like the head of a snake, decorated the woman's black hair, which, due to the way it was tied up, strangely resembled the tail of a scorpion, the woman smiled at Yumi before disappearing, making the mirror reflect the girl again.
— I don't remember that mirror, it wasn't there before, YUMI GET OUT OF THERE! - Seiji shouted trying to get his sister away from the mirror but it was too late.
The girl still looked hypnotized, and she didn't move away from the mirror.
The mirror lit up in a strange green fire and a voice began to come out of it.
Ah...My dear beloved...
A beautiful... and noble flower of evil... Truly, you are the most beautiful of all...
Mirror, oh mirror on the wall... Tell me... Who is the...
Those who are guided by the Black Mirror... As long as your heart desires...
Take the hand that appears in the mirror…For me.
For them. For you.
We're all running out of time...
No matter what happens... Never let go of my hand.
A hand came out of the mirror, wearing an extravagant sleeve and had golden claws on its fingers, and Yumi, still bewitched, took that hand.
Seiji saw that, and shouted for the creature in the mirror to release his sister, but the girl was violently pulled into the mirror, and the last thing she heard was her brother shouting her name.
-where I am? -the girl asked herself confused, the last thing she remembered was being in the treasure room, and talking to Seiji, and now she didn't know what happened or where she was
She opened her eyes and saw herself in a dark, cold place, then she realized that she seemed to be underwater, the girl despaired, but she realized that strangely she could breathe, and for some reason she was floating, She was looking around, trying to understand what had happened.
Suddenly, seven mirrors appeared and surrounded her, from inside each mirror a hand came out, all different from each other.
She began to analyze, the first mirror had a heart on top, and was decorated with several playing cards.
The second had a drawing of a lion's head surrounded by what appeared to be animal bones.
The third had tentacles wrapped around it.
The room had a snake, and was a bit reminiscent of a kind of palace from the Arabian Nights stories.
The fifth had a beautiful peacock
The sixth had skulls.
And the seventh thorns.
Yumi looked at each mirror, and approached the mirror with the snake, but when she went to take that hand, tanned and wearing several gold bracelets and a white sleeve, the hand just pointed to another mirror, as if saying that Yumi should choose that one.
The mirror that hand was pointing at was identical to the mirror in front of Yumi, but it was in darker tones.
The girl approached the second mirror, and a tanned hand, wearing black sleeves, came out of it.
Yumi heard the sound of a snake, and without thinking much she took that hand, and unlike that first time Yumi felt someone kiss the back of her hand and gently pulled her in.
Inside the mirror the characteristic noise of a snake grew louder, and in that darkness she saw gray eyes looking at her, the eyes quickly turned red with the vertical pupils common to a snake.
And before she fell into a state of unconsciousness, she heard a strange voice speaking to her.
—Thank you for choosing me.
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I apologize for my English, and for possible grammar errors, I ended up having some problems typing, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter, reblogs and likes are appreciated.
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freedominthecircus · 8 months
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To think that all color symbolism would be the same across the board in people’s cultures (and thus, their witchcraft) is laughable. What is anger and vengeance in one culture may just be luck or passion in another - and an individual themselves may have a completely out-of-left-field viewpoint due to their own lived experiences. There are as many different interpretations as there are people in the world. And while there are plenty of witches out there that don’t give a damn about color theory or symbolism and get along just fine without it - there are also plenty that do care and do want to learn, just are caught up in a more euro-centric view of the color spectrum.
Namely using this site as a jumping-off point, here are my personal views on the colors as of now:
RED
A color of passion in North American and European cultures, it is frequently associated with love (seen extensively along with Pink) in Valentine’s Day celebrations. It is also associated with anger or danger and as such I have personally used the color in more aggressive workings where it has worked well. The color red is also used in religious practices in Central and South America as Christianity associates red with the blood of Christ (of course) and the crucifixion. In China - and possibly other East Asian countries - red symbolizes honor and success. While American brides are more used to wearing white on their wedding day, Chinese brides more prefer red for this association. Wanting that success in their marriages as well as a long-lasting love.
As stated before: I use Red in workings where I feel the need to be more aggressive or passionate about what I am trying to convey. Whether that be screaming a warning at someone/something to back the fuck up, or whether the red wax is being used to seal the envelope of Lust Dust. I know some people who are die-hard about using red in their Love workings - but it has never really worked for me unless the end result was an intense romp in the bedroom rather than their heart being touched.
ORANGE
Very frequently associated with Autumn in North America and Europe. Halloween and the agricultural harvests are frequently thought of - as well as the color is known as a more royal color in the Netherlands. Counties in Central and South America view Orange as one of the more primary colors of nature, and it is almost always associated with the earth and sun. China and Japan also view Orange as a color of good things. From financial prosperity to making sure one is in good health - it’s also associated with a general happiness, courage, and other good fortunes. It is also known as a more sacred color in India.
I personally do not work with Orange much as I find it an off-putting color to me. I’ve never gravitated towards it and there have actually been a few times where once Orange was introduced to something - the “vibes” we all off and the spellwork had to have been done for the night. For what reason this may be I do not know.
YELLOW
A mixed bag of correspondences. From being seen as a color of wealth in Africa to being a color of mourning in the Middle East. (And apparently as a color linked to pornography in China - though this is a claim I have not looked into myself yet. In North America and Europe, we tend to associate it with sunshine and good weather which is usually how I personally incorporate it when it does get used - but it is also frequently known as a color of jealousy in Germany and France.
The color of the sun and associated with Summer more than Spring in my mind. Yellow gets used in my practice usually at two points in the year: Either during the Summer to celebrate the moments of sunshine that graces my Seasonal Depression with little pepper-light kisses - or dead in the middle of Winter to try to remind myself of those kisses.
GREEN
The green four-leaf clover did a lot in terms of minds in North American and Western Europe to associate it predominately with good luck. Even with other associations such as envy/jealousy or progress - luck tends to be the go-to correspondence. Even with countries in Asia and the Middle East viewing green with a more natural lens and corresponding it with fertility and prosperity also - it still remains a color of good fortune as well.
Green in the color in my head associated the most with money and financial prosperity. It is the color of the American dollar and is used in many, many, wealth spells and other work along those lines and I have used it exactly as such in the past. While this is the main way I personally use and view green, it should be noted that I have used the color in abundance workings as well.
BLUE
A strong color with the main association across cultures as one to ward off evil, as well as a color of strength thanks to the Hinduism deity Krishna - who is often (if not always) presented with having blue skin. Some other more Asian cultures also recognize blue as a color of long life, healing, and even immortality. That is not to say there are not other - more somber - connotations though. In more western cultures we tend to have a saying of “feeling blue” - which means extreme sadness or even mourning.
To me, Blue is a color associated mostly with a tranquil sadness or melancholy. I use it in a lot of grief work to guide me through and let loose the well of tears inside if I’m having trouble releasing them. I have also used it as a “booster” color of sorts though, usually in conjunction with other colors on the cool color spectrum, as mixing it with warm colors left me feeling very odd afterwards.
PURPLE
A general consensus throughout most of the world is that Purple is the color of wealth, and it’s a color usually reserved for royalty. The exception to this is found in Latin and South America where - in that part of the world - it means death.
This is the association I have with it. I have never fully viewed it as a royal or wealthy color, and instead have always viewed purple as a color of death and frequently use it in works with death.
BLACK
The color of death, mourning, and - curiously - formality in Europe and North America. Western funerals have featured black for centuries for it’s association with death and the dead, and some places in the Middle East also see it as a color of death and evil. India also views black as more evil than good. Other parts of the world have a different take. Black is a positive color in places like China and Japan and is a very popular color amongst young boys and girls. Some African cultures also see it as a symbol of maturity rather than anything associated with death.
Black is probably my most used “color” in my practice. Along with technically being a “color” comprised of all other colors - it’s used as a substitute for a lot in my practice. It’s a color I also use a ton for meditation, and I do use it as one of three colors I associate with death (the others being White and Purple). It’s never been a “bad” or negative color for me.
WHITE
The “color” that is the lack of all other color - its associated heavily with purity throughout most of the world. It is also associated with good luck and prosperity in some pockets of Africa as well. There are other places in Eastern Europe and Asia where it is associated with death in addition to purity. It can also denote bad fortune or general unhappiness.
I tend to skew towards the latter because of the fact that white is the “color” that is the lack of all others. Giving the general feeling of emptiness where there once was something. I do sometimes also use it to cleanse or purify because of it’s lack of all other color.
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imsleepmhm · 2 years
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CHAPTER ONE
*Yoongi isn't a idol in this story
TW: abuse, mentions of murder
* if I missed any tell me
_____________________________________
Love, a beautiful but treacherous thing.
It can be sweet and gentle or harsh and bitter, with the right conditions, it could make you feel happy or miserable. It would bring joy to your heart but will leave you empty if things don’t work out for you. It can make you feel like shit when everything is going well in your life. Love can bring people together and fill broken pieces.But most importantly, love is also cruel. Love has hurt people, broken hearts and stolen happiness. But more often than not, it’s the best kind of pain. For every hurt you receive you can get rid of any burden you carry, and give yourself a chance at what you truly desire.
Pain, in all its forms are just manifestations of something better that lives deep inside us. We cannot see it but we can feel it. Sometimes the pain hurts so badly that we feel as though our own soul is being torn apart and we wish to scream and cry. We want to give up all hope on ever finding someone who loves us back.We need to learn how to forgive ourselves too, because there is no cure for the suffering we have caused ourselves. No amount of time, energy, effort nor money can ever repair the damage we have done. Some say forgiveness is easier said than done but we must face the truth; some wounds may never heal. It might take years, maybe even decades but in the end, our pain will become something else, and we won’t even realize it has been taken away until it is gone.Sometimes we find a way to live past the pain. Sometimes we find a way to love someone again. Other times the hurt takes a toll on us, we lose our strength and sometimes we don’t feel whole anymore, we just don’t know whether to smile or frown anymore, whether to laugh or weep. Some people are lucky and others aren't. The only thing one can do is look forward to the next day.
..........................................................................
" y/n, I'm not playing with you. if you walk out that door you're going to regret it.", Jay says as I walk towards the front door with my things.
" I can't stay with you...I can't keep allowing myself to stay in a relationship that is toxic and abusive.", I say. It has taken me long enough to be able to get up the courage to leave him and I wasn't going to let him scare me our of finally leaving.
" Abusive? I have never put my hands on you." , he says and I can feel his glares stabbing me in the back.
" Abuse can be verbal to.", I say finally reaching the door. " We're over."
" I didn't agree to that."
Suddenly he's behind me, pulling me towards him by the hair.
" You wanna be abused so badly, huh?", he says throwing me to the floor.
" I got you."
" Leave me alone, Jay", I yell trying to hurry up and out of here. At this point I don't care if I had suitcase or not because those things can be replaced unlike my life.
" No, you want to leave me? You think you can live without me, huh? I got you.", he says and for the first time in our whole relationship I finally realized just how bad he was. I hurriedly got up and rushed to the door. But once again before I could grab the knob he grabbed me by my hair
and pulled me toward him, moving his hands from my hair to my arm. This time it hurt a lot, his grip was hard and his nails dug into my skin, making me bleed a little.
" You're mine." he growls holding his arm up high as he punched me in the stomach.
I fall on the ground, unable to breathe . I tried to push him off me, but he held me down by my neck.
" Do you hate me?",he asks looking at me while still holding my head up.
" N...no?.", i manage to choke out.
He laughs coldly before grabbing me and making me stand up. He threw me to the couch and I landed on my back. He was looming over me, smiling evilly as he leaned down, placing his hand on my chest.
" Then why are you trying to leave me?", he says slowly caressing my collarbone with his thumb.
" I told you, I refuse to allow you to continue to verbally abuse me. We're supposed to be in love, but this...this isn't love.", I say looking him in the eyes as tears started coming out of mine. There was a time when I was in love with him but now all of our good moments are tainted by the newer version of him.
" What do you mean this isn't love, huh? You want me to drop everything for you all the time? You want me to sugar coat everything you do so that your pride won't be hurt?", he says looking at me with disgust, " This isn't a fairy tale this is the real world. You of all people should know that. You should be lucky that I even want to be with you because no one else ever wanted you."
" Your're going to far. I.."
" No, you're going to far. I gave you everything and yet you act like you're better than me? Without me you would be nothing...without me you are nothing.", he says interrupting me saying the same words he always said when things didn't go his way.
" Do you really think that I would let you walk out on me like that? After all that we have been through? Who was there for you when your dad tried to kill you, huh? Who helped you get away from him? I did...I was the only one there for you...I'm the only one who cares about you...you don't even deserve it but I still deal with you." , he says wrapping his hand around my neck, his hold growing tighter until I couldn't breath anymore and I struggled to move out of his grasp.
" Let...me...go...",i gasped out.
" You deserve to die...just like your father", he said squeezing harder on my throat and pushing me further and further down. I could feel myself suffocating, black dots dancing on my vision. All I could hear was his voice, whispering all the things he did to my father and all the things he planned for me.
" Please...stop...", i whispered in between breaths. But I knew he wouldn't stop. He just kept talking to me, and soon he started hitting.
" You deserve this y/n"
"y/n"
"y/n"
" Y/N...Y/NNN!", I hear a voice say waking me up. I look up to see my friend, Jennie, looking at me worriedly while shaking me.
" Are you OK? It looked like you were having a really bad dream.", she says helping me to sit up.
" Yea, I'm fine. I'm sorry I made you worry.", I tell her hoping that my smile looked natural and not forced.
" You know, when your ready to talk I'm here, ok", she says and I just nod my head and lay back down, knowing that Iost likely won't be able to fall back asleep after that.
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coochiequeens · 2 years
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An intact male is in a woman’s shelter.
A Canadian woman has come forward to reveal that she was removed from a transitional shelter after expressing concerns to management about gender ideology following two disturbing incidents within the residence.
Speaking exclusively with Reduxx, Jane* says she’d never given much thought to the gender identity issue prior to being moved into Peggy’s Place, a shelter for women in a suburban neighborhood of Vancouver, British Columbia which services women struggling with mental illness who have also been the victims of domestic violence.
“Before I arrived, I had never thought or cared much about gender identity,” she says, reflecting on the lead-up to her placement at the shelter. After escaping a situation of domestic violence and experiencing difficulties in access to urgent medical care, Jane says she was initially relieved when her social worker advised her she had been found a room at the shelter in May of 2019. 
“It was a door I could lock. It was a private room for myself. I had what I needed nearby.” Jane describes being asked upon intake whether she was comfortable being around trans-identified people. She explains she’d both worked and socialized with trans-identified people without issue in the past and had no problems with them, so said she was.
“I had assumed there would be a really small chance of one of them being in the house, but I figured there would be some sort of screening process in place and there wouldn’t be any violations of our boundaries.”
But shortly after Jane moved in, she found that a trans-identified male had been living in the residence, and her assumptions were rapidly proven incorrect.
At first, Jane says she’d just tried to avoid Max*, who she described as being over 6′ tall and obviously male. But just weeks after arriving, Jane says she caught him in the hall outside of her room, completely nude but for a bra he was holding to his chest as he modeled his body in the full-length mirror near Jane’s door. He was fully intact, and was not covering his genitalia in any way.
“IN MY MIND, I SHUT DOWN. THERE WAS SO MUCH FEAR.”
“I froze and never made direct eye contact. A part of me died. I went into my room and locked the door,” Jane says, “I kept telling myself I had a door that locked. In my mind, I shut down. There was so much fear.”
Jane states she had briefly considered returning to the house she had escaped from, but it was the fact she had a locking door and room to herself that made her feel she could make it work at the shelter.
Jane attempted to complain to staff over what had happened, but says her concerns were given a low priority and dismissed.
“They just said ‘some people don’t respect boundaries.’ Nothing was done. It didn’t matter that I had sexual trauma,” she recalls, noting that the event had taught her she needed to keep quiet.
Shortly after, Max was involved in an incident with another female shelter resident. 
Jane describes Lucy* as being severely physically and intellectually disabled, and anorexic to the point of often not having the strength to walk unassisted. But Jane describes Lucy as being the victim of a violent tirade by Max, with the man screaming verbal abuse at her.
“Hearing a man scream [like that] reminded me of my dad. If someone is doing a falsetto when they speak but then drop down to their natural octave when they are enraged and screaming, it communicates to you that this is a danger in a really primal way,” Jane says, noting that she hadn’t been privy to what had set Max, but that his rampage had created unease amongst staff and other residents – especially as he had a tendency to steal knives from the kitchen, and threaten both himself and others with them.
“I felt so angry that [this male], who was physically strong and abled bodied was screaming at someone who was physically disabled and psychologically weak. [Lucy] genuinely didn’t know what was going on,” Jane says, describing that the incident had been rattling enough that afterwards, staff went around the residence and asked the women if they were alright.
Jane describes attempts to confide in a shelter staff member about how hearing Max scream at Lucy had brought back childhood trauma related to her father’s abuse. But the staff member quickly express they were more concerned about Jane having perceived Max as male.
“I CAN’T LIE AND SAY IT WAS ANOTHER SEXLESS PERSON … IT WASN’T JUST THE YELLING, IT WAS THE DEEP, ANGRY VOICE.”
“She was very distressed at hearing this. I can’t lie and say it was another sexless person. It was specifically my father. It wasn’t just the yelling, it was the deep, angry voice.”
As a result of the incident, Max was removed from the home, and Jane says that for a period of a few weeks in the summer, conditions in the shelter improved for all residents.
“I did better in the parts of the summer when no males were in the house. There was even a time in the house, the only time this happened actually, when there was a group therapy session with just us as women,” Jane says, “A woman in the house who was constantly undergoing psychosis and could not speak in clear sentences was able to open up about her past trauma.”
Close to the end of the summer, Jane says a second trans-identified male was moved into the shelter, bringing an entirely new dynamic, and a new set of concerns for Jane.
Sam* had been released into Peggy’s Place from a men’s recovery house, and was only amongst the women briefly before being shuttled away for a full vaginoplasty after which point he was returned. Jane describes feeling “horrified” as she witnessed someone who was mentally unstable be ‘affirmed’ through a major, body-altering surgery.
“This person was unable to think critically. I do not believe they were in a place where they could have meaningfully consented,” Jane says, “Part of me was hoping or assuming that someone, somewhere in the line of [medical professionals] would have said ‘stop,’ but no one had.”
Jane, who has her own trauma associated with abuses within the medical system, says witnessing the pain and unawareness Sam was experiencing made her feel like he was being subjected to “torture,” and could only recall it through fits of uncontrollable sobbing.
“One night, Sam agreed with me about having needed more questioning before getting the surgery. At one point, [he] said ‘if I had known, I might not have done it.’ To admit that involves being cognizant of a violation that in my opinion is on par with some of the most violent sexual assault because it is literally physically cutting up and hurting the sexual organs.” Jane also notes that Sam had shown her a stack of paperwork he’d been given to read and sign prior to his surgeries, but says Sam only had a Grade 5 education and was blind in one eye.
Jane notes that Sam’s post-surgery care became a central focus of the shelter, leaving many of the women fighting to access bathrooms, or being exposed to things they did not have the capacity to cope with. After her last experience, Jane felt frightened to talk to staff about the impact it was having on her own mental health.
“[Sam] was in so much pain for so many months,” Jane says, “There were specific smells of blood and rot in the bathroom. Things indicative of infection and pain. Things I don’t want to remember.”
When Sam was struggling with an infection in his genitals, he went to Jane for help researching at-home treatments and vitamins. Jane says it was a turning point in her understanding of the gender identity issue, which she had only briefly given attention to after Max had been in the house.
“I came across Trans Care BC website, which was horrifying. It read more like an advertisement than a resource for serious medical information. There was nothing about infections or vitamins. Nothing.” Jane felt the information on the website was almost a “conflict of interest,” with all of the resources telling patients to speak to their surgeons.
“The surgeon makes a living off of giving the procedures, not off of counseling people and figuring out what is best for them. It was criminal that this happened to [Sam] in my opinion.”
As Jane continued to research into issues surrounding gender identity, she quickly became overwhelmed with the realization that what she had experienced in the shelter was not isolated, but rather part of a rapidly expanding problem. 
“Everything was surreal. Just surreal. It’s such a horrible and shocking problem. You’re supposed to be working on yourself and all I did was curl up into a little ball and sleep all day,” Jane says, “I was also someone who cared. Other’s found it easier to not care.”
In July of 2020, Jane was informed she was being evicted from the shelter as a result of her increasingly vocal concerns about gender ideology both inside and outside of the house. She was told she had 3 hours to pack her things and find alternative housing, something that was extremely difficult as the COVID-19 pandemic restrictions had resulted in limited available services.
Jane provided Reduxx with a series of recordings she had made while attempting to engage with staff on her issues. In one, she is heard speaking with the manager of the shelter as she was being evicted.
“We are a trans-friendly house. We will be having more trans women coming in. So the decision has been made that this is not the right place for you,” the manager says, before accusing Jane of being “dishonest” about her position on trans rights during her intake.
“I am really clear about asking people before they move in — you needed to be honest and say you weren’t comfortable with transgender people, and then we wouldn’t have done all this. You wouldn’t have moved in… I felt like we were misinformed.”
The manager then tells Jane she should call Vancouver Rape Relief, which she had labeled as having the same “fears about trans people” as Jane did. Vancouver Rape Relief, Canada’s oldest rape crisis shelter, was stripped of city funding in 2019 after asserting it had a right to cater to females only. Jane told Reduxx she had previously attempted to volunteer at Rape Relief after she had become more interested in gender ideology and witnessed their struggle against the city. She said she’d found the prospect of going there as a resident to be embarrassing after she’d already applied to volunteer.
“THERE’S ONLY TWO THINGS GOING ON: YOU’RE TRANSPHOBIC, AND THIS IS A TRANS-FRIENDLY AGENCY.”
“The fact is, you’re transphobic. We are a non-transphobic agency, and it is not appropriate for you to be living here,” the manager is heard saying, “I asked you when you moved in and you lied — you said you weren’t transphobic.”
Jane then is heard crying, and trying to insist her views had only recently changed, to which the manager responds: “There’s only two things going on: You’re transphobic, and this is a trans-friendly agency.”
Jane was removed from the house and sent to a facility with a 30 day time limit. Her experience rapidly became one of scrambling to find a new place to live without having to return to her sexually abusive ex-boyfriend.
In November of 2020, after settling into a more stable place, Jane tried writing BC Housing multiple times to file a formal complaint against Peggy’s Place, but was repeatedly bumped back to internal complaint processes within The Kettle Society, the organization which oversees the shelter.
Throughout 2021 and even into 2022, Jane tried reaching someone at BC Housing, and she showed Reduxx multiple chains of emails she’d sent detailing the lack of care from staff towards her concerns, as well as the exact incidents she’d experienced in the shelter.
By May of 2022, Jane still hadn’t received any response from BC Housing, and says she resorted to “begging” for someone to respond, and had an emotional breakdown while trying to contact Ali Ayala-Davidson, an operations manager for BC Housing’s Women’s Transition Housing & Supports Program division.
“There is no help,” Jane wrote in her last email, “Just say I am worthless. Say women are worthless. Say they are. Say they are nothing. Say they are only as good as a male whose dream they can be a prop in. Say that by saying nothing.”
Jane describes being burdened with feelings of guilt and shame related to not having spoken out about her experiences sooner, but it was witnessing the escalation of gender ideology’s impact on women that convinced her she had to take a stand.
“I was in a women’s only space. Women’s only spaces in Canada are now unisex. Most people don’t know or believe it,” Jane says, expressing some degree of disbelief at her own situation, “Women deserve better … How are women supposed to heal from sexual violence when they are forced to pretend sex isn’t real?”
Jane says she considered going to a Human Rights Tribunal, but feared she wouldn’t be able to keep her composure.
“I feel that even if I do send a human rights complaint, I’m going to be so upset they won’t take me seriously and just throw me out,” Jane says, “My time is also almost up at my current residence, and I am searching for new housing … but I struggle with agoraphobia, and find it difficult to organize myself.”
She is currently in the process of seeking a lawyer who might take on her case for reduced-to-no cost as she has limited resources, but has been unsuccessful so far.
Reduxx reached out to The Kettle Society for comment, but did not get a response prior to publication. This article may be updated in the event one is received.
* Names changed to protect the privacy of the individuals mentioned.
By Anna Slatz Anna is the Co-Founder and Editor-in-Chief at Reduxx, with a journalistic focus on covering crime, child predators, and women's rights. She lives in Canada, enjoys Opera, and kvetches in her spare time.
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mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Honeybee
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰
———
Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.
Truly, it was pathetic.
Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.
Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.
At least, I thought I was.
And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.
I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?
Honestly? I blame the FBI.
If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...
Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.
Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...
I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.
He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.
Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.
Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.
"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."
Fuck. That fucking nickname...
"Spencer... It has."
When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.
I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.
Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.
Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.
"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"
I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."
Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."
How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.
Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."
"N— I am not!"
"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"
"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."
I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.
"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."
He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.
I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.
———
All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.
He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.
That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.
Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.
In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.
I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.
And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.
I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.
"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.
"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.
And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.
I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...
But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."
I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"
"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."
I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.
The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.
When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.
"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."
I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.
"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.
Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.
———
And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.
It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.
On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.
So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...
Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?
Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.
Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."
I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."
"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.
I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."
With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."
"Well, good. You deserve it."
After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.
And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"
"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."
"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."
There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."
"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"
"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.
"Am I wrong?"
"I... I don't..."
"Ha! I'm not wrong!"
The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.
"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"
I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"
There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."
"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"
"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"
"What, you think I'd joke about that?"
Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.
"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.
Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."
I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."
She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."
I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.
———
I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.
I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.
Later today... Whatever.
The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.
Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.
A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.
Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.
Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."
I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."
"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."
"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"
His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.
Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.
"Are you... gonna let me in?"
The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.
Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.
And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.
And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.
The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.
Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.
Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.
"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"
He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."
"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."
That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.
Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."
Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.
Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.
He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.
Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.
But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.
Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.
His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"
As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."
"Fair... But still..."
Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.
And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."
I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.
Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)
"Spencer, please..."
I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."
No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.
Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...
God, and those was only his hands...
The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.
I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.
"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."
What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.
He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.
Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.
No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.
I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.
Now I didn't have to imagine.
Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...
I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.
So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.
"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.
I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.
He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"
I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."
Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.
And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.
Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.
"Promise not to sting me?"
I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."
"Deal."
He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.
It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.
That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.
His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.
Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.
His name was all I could manage.
"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.
"M—More... I..."
"Can you be more specific?"
How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.
I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.
"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.
My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.
I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.
By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.
Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."
I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."
He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."
"I... Is that a bad thing?"
"It's a strange thing..."
He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.
I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."
With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"
Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."
"I was highly amused."
I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."
Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.
"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.
Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."
"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.
"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."
He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.
"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."
Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.
All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
"I know you won't, Honeybee."
———
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itsapeterthing · 3 years
Text
Milestone || Bucky Barnes
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pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader
summary: a journey through some of the biggest milestones in yours and bucky’s relationship from the day you first met to sharing a home of your own
a/n: in this we’re gonna pretend that bucky didn’t get dusted! also reader has powers similar to those of wanda’s. reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!
word count: 3.4k
warnings: none, fluff
masterlist || request || taglist
The First Time You Met
Running down the hallway of the airport, you watched as Peter was swept off of his feet and into the air by none other than Falcon, leaving the man you recognized as the Winter Soldier in your midst. Your shoes squeaking against the floor as you stopped short, you threw your arms into the air, stopping the man from moving.
Snapping his attention towards you, he furrowed his eyebrows and you could feel him fighting against your magic. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried your hardest to keep him contained but with only so much experience, he broke through it in a minute, coming for you straight after.
“Shit.” You cursed to yourself, watching as he strode over to you.
Clasping your hands together before pulling them apart, you created a baton of sorts in just enough time to hold it in front of yourself as Bucky cornered you into a wall. Pushing him back with the beam, you grunted, trying your hardest to keep the magic from dying out.
“You’re not very good at this.” He commented, attempting to pull the magical beam from your hands.
“I’m...” You grunted. “.... new.”
Using all of your force, you shoved him back. Taking the first opportunity you saw, you began shooting blasts of magic at him while he stumbled backwards. Attempting to dodge the blasts, he moved forward, putting his hands in the air.
“Look,” He said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Watching as he stumbled backwards, closer to a ledge, you halted the blasts, tilting your head sideways.
“Lucky me.”
As soon as the words fell from your mouth, you used the rest of your force, swinging your arms backwards and then pushing forward to shove him through the railing and over the edge, his eyes wide as he fell backwards. When he fell, he took the Falcon with him. 
Glancing up above, you saw Peter, shooting a web to hold the two men to the ground. Feeling the energy in your palms, you floated down to the floor they were held to, standing above them.
“Look guys, I would love to keep this up but I’ve only got one job here today and I’ve gotta impress Mr. Stark, so I’m really sorry-” You watched as the drone took Peter’s web and pulled him through the window cutting him short, Peter screaming as it did.
Turning back to the men, you pulled the hood of your cloak over your head.
“Don’t worry about the drone thing,” You said. “I know when to see myself out.”
Turning to make your way towards the exit of the airport, you heard Bucky call from behind you.
“Hey!” He shouted. “Who are you?”
Bucky didn’t know why he was asking. He could barely even remember facts about himself, never mind keep track of every super human person he came across, but there was something nagging in his mind, begging him to learn more.
Glancing over your shoulder, looking at the Winter Soldier one last time, you smirked.
“Y/n.”
And with that you left the airport.
First Touch
The hatch to the ship opening, you stumbled down the steps, gripping Nebula’s arm to keep your balance. As Steve took hold of Tony, Pepper rushing to his side, you looked up to find the familiar face of Rhodey making his way towards you.
“I chose the wrong day to go see who Dr. Strange was.” You chuckled somberly, trying to make light of the situation.
Grabbing your arm to steady you as you slowly walked down the steps, Rhodey shook his head.
“The fight wasn't much better back here.” He said. “At least we had oxygen though. You’re not looking so good, kid.”
Too afraid to have looked at your deteriorating reflection the past three weeks, you knew he was being too kind.
It had been nearly three weeks since Thanos snapped away a half of the universe’s population, leaving you, Tony and Nebula stranded in space. You had run out of fuel weeks ago and had nearly lost hope of ever returning home as the oxygen supply began dwindling until Captain Marvel had found your ship and brought you all safely back to the Avengers Compound.
Despite being back, three weeks in space had left you exhausted, starving and dehydrated- just to name a few.
Biting back the dizziness you felt, you sighed.
“I’m- I’m fine, Rhodes.” You said, beginning to feel lightheaded. “It’s nothing-”
Missing your footing on the step, you tripped, losing your balance from Rhodey, about to hit the ground until you felt an arm wrap around your torso and the cool touch of metal grasp your hand. Looking up, you were met with the familiar face of the man you had fought two years ago at the airport in Germany, his hair cut shorter since the last time you had seen him, but recognizable nonetheless.
“Bucky Barnes?” You asked, standing up straighter with his assistance.
“Y/n.” He replied, shooting you a gentle smile.
Although you had what many would consider super-human abilities with your magic, due to being discovered after the civil war between the Avengers that had effectively split up the group- you weren't used to being recognized. Hearing your name fall from his lips felt somewhat gratifying.
“You remember my name?” You asked in disbelief
“Hard to forget the name of the woman who kicked my ass.” Bucky chuckled, helping you walk towards the doors of the Compound. “Doesn't happen often.”
For the first time in weeks you allowed yourself to smile as you gazed up at the man holding you steady, making sure you didn’t fall. When his blue eyes met yours, you adverted your gaze, turning your attention towards Natasha who wheeled a wheelchair through the doors of the Compound and towards the two of you.
Moving his flesh hand to rest on your lower back, his vibranium one still in yours, he helped you slowly ease into the chair. When you sat back in the chair, resting your feet on the footrests, you looked up at the super soldier and smiled.
“Not looking for a rematch are you?” You asked, slipping your hand out of his and resting it on your abdomen. “‘Cause I think I’m gonna need a raincheck.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he laughed shaking his head.
“No, I think I’m done with fighting.” He said.
Feeling Natasha pulling back on the wheelchair, about to spin your chair around and towards the doors, you threw him one last smile.
“That makes two of us.”
Just when Bucky was about to turn around and walk away as Nat wheeled you through the doors, the chair stopped and he watched as you glanced over your shoulder.
“And Sarge?” You called.
“Yeah?”
“I like the new arm.”
For the first time in decades, Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks as he watched you tiredly speak to Natasha until you left his line of sight.
First Kiss
It had taken you nearly a month to recover from your time in space since returning back to Earth. Although you understood that there wasn’t much to be done since Thanos had wiped out half of the universe, you still felt guilty taking up space in the Compound when all you would do was lay in bed, attached to an IV. 
The one thing that made your time on bedrest a little more bearable was none other than Bucky Barnes.
Throughout your stay in bed he had consistently visited you. Though at first he was a bit shy, you had proven to be someone he could trust- assuring him that he could never be a bother to you and that you genuinely enjoyed having his company- maybe a bit too much, but you would never tell him that.
Bucky himself was surprised that he had put himself so out there with you after living such a solitary life for nearly the past 80 years, but there was just something about you that drew him to you time and time again. He couldn’t pinpoint it- whether it was your kindness, humor or intelligence- he found both joy and peace in your presence- something he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be in.
So, despite the voice in the back of his head telling him that you didn’t want to see him, he had visited you while you got better in bed, taking care of you in the littlest of ways until he watched the dark circles under your eyes fade away and your ability to walk without his assistance return.
Finally feeling somewhat better, you had insisted to bucky that you were ready to train again and no matter how many times he tried to convince you that you weren’t, he could never say no once you squeezed his hand and pouted up at him.
He was regretting not saying no to you as he now stood across from you in the training room.
“Y/n, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” He said, watching you sway in your spot despite your feet being planted to the mat.
“C’mon Barnes,” You taunted, raising your hands. “You scared?”
Just as he was about to open his mouth again, you shot a blast of magic towards him, Bucky dodging it just as it whooshed past his head.
“I wasn’t even ready!” Bucky exclaimed.
Shrugging your shoulders you formed another beam made of magic, holding either ends of it with your hands as Bucky came towards you.
Trying to plant your feet to the ground, feeling another hit of dizziness wash over you, you pushed him back with the beam, but before you could do anything more, his leg swept under yours, making you lose your balance. 
Before you fell to the ground, however, the magic in your hands diminished as you gripped your hands into Bucky’s shirt bringing him down with you.
Flipping over before you fell, you landed on top of the super soldier, your hands planted firmly on his chest. With his hands above his head that was inches away from yours, you both stared at each other- you finally noticing just how much you liked the scruff that coated his jawline and him admiring the color of your eyes and how he swore he could lose himself in them if only he had the chance.
Opening your mouth, you felt the thumping of Bucky’s heart against your fingertips that were resting on his chest as he gazed up at you.
“Your heart is beating really fast.” You whispered, out of breath despite you barely having trained.
“Yeah, it does that when I see you.”
You could barely believe what you were hearing until you felt Bucky’s hands come up and cup your face, glancing down at your lips before back to your eyes, asking wordlessly for your approval. 
Unable to form a coherent sentence, you eagerly nodded back at him.
Before you could even process it, you felt Bucky’s lips meeting yours as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands moving from cupping your face to wrapping around your body, pulling you tight against him. All you could remember thinking was that despite his tough exterior, his lips were soft and you could lose yourself in the comfort of having his arms around you all day if he let you.
Pulling away first, a beaming smile spread across Bucky’s face as he rubbed circles against your back.
“If you wanted to kiss me so bad,” He teased. “You could’ve just asked.”
First “I Love You”
Sitting on the edge of the rooftop, your legs swinging in the air, you offered the bag of popcorn in your hand to your boyfriend who was sat beside you. Taking his eyes off of the view in front of him, he grabbed a fistful of the salty treat from the bag, popping it in his mouth.
“Did you have stuff like this back in the olden times?” You asked, laying your head on his shoulder.
“What?” He asked despite his mouth being full. “You mean fireworks? How old do you think I am?”
Laughing at how he mocked offense over your question, you sat up straight, pecking his cheek.
“One hundred doesn’t sound much better, babe.”
Rolling his eyes, knowing that you loved him anyway, he brushed off the remaining salt from his fingertips, wrapping his vibranium arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.
Just as he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple, he jumped in his spot as he heard the loud sound of the first firework shooting up into the air over the water before “popping” and bursting into an array of color.
“Look!” You exclaimed, pointing towards the display. “It’s starting!”
Although he took a quick glance at the firework display, his attention was purely focused on you. He couldn’t help but admire the way the colorful lights reflected on your skin or how you had a hint of an open smile on your face watching as the fireworks burst midair. No show could compare to looking at you.
He couldn't help but feel his heart race in his chest, breath caught in his throat as he admired your beauty- even when you were still in your suit from watching over the parade with him earlier that evening. He was convinced there wasn’t a single thing about you that he wasn’t completely enamored with and you only gave him more reasons to love you every single day.
Before he even realized what he was saying, admiring you in complete bliss and utter awe, the words slipped out of his mouth.
“I love you.”
He thought you wouldn’t be able to hear, the sound of another firework popping ringing in his ear, but when you turned towards him, your eyes wide and mouth agape, he knew you had.
“Did you just say that you love me?” You asked, fireworks continuing to burst behind you.
Not one to lie- especially not to you- he nodded his head.
“Yeah.”
A smile beginning to form on your face, you grabbed the strap on his jacket, pulling him closer to you.
“I love you too.”
Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his, the sound of the finale of the display ringing behind you as the fireworks burst one after another in air, every color imaginable washing over your joined figures sitting on the edge of the rooftop on that cool summer night, almost as if it were taking the feeling shared between the two of you and bringing it to life for the world to see.
First Home
“Okay!” You nodded, pointing to the corner of your living room. “That one can go over there. Thank you so much for your help, Steve.”
“I helped Buck move into his first apartment, Y/n.” Steve said wiping his hands on his pants. “I wouldn’t miss stuff like this for anything.”
Smiling at Steve’s comment, you felt Bucky’s vibranium hand land on your lower back, pulling you closer. Leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arm around him in return, staring up at your boyfriend.
“Yeah and the first time he was about a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter.” Bucky chuckled. “This is easy for him.”
Watching Natasha set down the last box on top of a pile of the others in the kitchen, you excused yourself from your boyfriend and his best friend, making your way into the other room.
When you had left the two of them’s earshot, Bucky watching as you left, Steve rested his hand on Bucky's shoulder, squeezing it gently.
“You know,” Steve said. “I’m happy for you, Buck. I think this is gonna be good for you.”
Bucky couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s comment- despite how cheesy it was- because he knew it was true.
When Bucky’s memory had finally been cleared, a part of him had always feared that even though he had been given a new chance at life, he would never have a normal one. Although he knew “normal” was a strong term for the life you two shared together given that he was a century old super soldier and you had magical abilities- you had given him a chance at a peaceful life full of love and contentment which was all he could ever dream of asking for. 
The idea of finding love and having a family was something that he worried was left eighty years in the past, but you proved to him that life didn’t end for him when he fell from that train- if anything it brought him the beginning he had always hoped for.
“Sure you won’t miss me too bad, pal?” Bucky asked.
Taking his hand back from Bucky’s shoulder, Steve laughed shoving his hand in his pockets.
“No, I think I’m used to it by now.” Steve chuckled. “It’s just like you to be able to find a woman with shared life experience even when half the world disappears.”
Shaking his head at his friend’s joke, he shoved him playfully.
“C’mon, ya’know this is different.” Bucky said. “I think this is the last one for me.”
Without missing a beat, Steve smiled.
“I know.”
Hearing the sound of you and Natasha’s footsteps stepping back into the room, Bucky kept his mouth shut, feeling your hand run over his shoulder as you stood beside him.
“Don’t forget about me now that you have your own place, okay Y/n?” Nat said crossing her arms.
“Don’t worry.” You told her. “I’ll come visit every day.”
“Well, not every day-” Bucky interjected.
“No. I meant what I said. Every day, Nat. You’ll wish you never said anything.”
Once the laughter that had erupted in the room settled, Steve and Nat said their goodbyes to you and your boyfriend, you both waving them off as you shut the door behind them. When the door was shut and you and Bucky were left in your new apartment alone together, you rushed over to your bag by the door, pulling a neatly wrapped gift out of it.
“What’s this?” Bucky asked as you handed him the present.
“Just a little housewarming gift.” You smiled.
Gazing at your smiling face, a smile finding its way onto his, he looked down at the present in his hands, carefully tearing the paper off of the gift to reveal a framed photo of the two of you.
A framed photo of the two of you fighting in an airport three years ago on the day you first met.
“So, Tony had put a camera in Peter’s suit back before we went and fought you guys.” You explained. “And I thought it had to be gone since Peter was... you know... but it turned out that Tony still had the footage so I was able to find some from that day at the airport and in it there was this quick little shot of us fighting and I just had to have it, Buck.”
Flipping the frame around at you, he raised his eyebrows.
“A photo of us fighting?”
“Yes!” You told him. “Do you like it?”
Despite the fact that it was a photo of the two of you fighting- a fight that he had gotten his ass kicked in no less- he loved it more than anything else you could have possibly given him because it was the day he met you. It was the day his life changed and he didn’t even know it in the moment.
Although your story was far from “normal” it was your story and that’s what mattered the most to him.
“I love it, doll.” He said, pulling you into his embrace. “This is a crazy story to tell our kids though, huh?”
“All of them are.” You laughed into his chest. “But I wouldn't have it any other way, Buck. I love you.”
Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a photograph of the day your story first began in his hand, he smiled.
“I love you too.”
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tojiot · 3 years
Note
ooh have about the main three with the fake dating trope :D
fake dating the main three
gn!reader, cursing here and there, typos and grammatical errors to be edited, past tense - present tense swerving to be fixed.
note: i was on vacation for 2 days without internet and i have bakugo's done in my notes but my phone died before i can even save it :D this will be kinda long because i went ahead of myself and detailed it exactly how i want. this is not betaed. please do tell me if there's a non they/them pronouns in here. hope you'll enjoy this!
requests are: open!
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ㅡ bakugo
i spent the whole day thinking about how he'll agree to fake date. let's just say he's the one in need.
his mom has been bothering him for a long time now. she wants to see katsuki bring home a partner for them to meet.
it's a pain in the ears and he's very TIRED so he decided to just fake date somebody.
the only person he can tolerate in class a aside from kirishima is you. he doesn't care about the other extras.
he'll search for you in the heights' lounge area and ask to talk.
"hey, can we talk?" he grumbles, "uhh, sure? do you want to talk here or somewhere private?" "somewhere private."
when you guys are in a more private area, he'd glare at you for a minute, it'll make you wonder if you did something wrong, before finally speaking.
"date me for a fucking day."
you'll snort at what he said and laugh thinking it was a joke but the annoyed and impatient look on his face says otherwise.
"wait.. are you for real?" "what do you think, shithead?"
bakugo trusts you so much that you have this significant role to play in his life.
you agreed, of course. it's the bakugo katsuki asking for your help. a once in a lifetime chance. (you just like him, stop making things up)
he brings you to the bakugo household the day after and his house is BIG big.
mitsuki, his mom, welcomes you with a big smile and a hug. he then glares at his son, "WHY ARE YOU ONLY BRINGING THIS PRETTY LITTLE CREATURE NOW, YOU BRAT?" "SHUT UP, OLD HAG! BE NICE OR I AIN'T BRINGING THEM HERE NO MORE."
masaru, who's just sitting there at the couch like nothing's happening, gives you a wave.
the dinner was good. his mom's a great cook, his father's a chatterbox. what surprised you the most was how quiet katsuki is. you're not sure why. maybe he's like this at home? quiet, calm, just serene.
"it's not everyday i see a person who can tame my brat of a son. i can see why he likes you, (y/n)." his mom beams at you, "you're pretty, a kind little one too. take care of my son, will ya?"
not knowing what to say, you smiled at her and said what's currently inside your mind, "if he'll let me, i'll take care of him for the rest of my life." you looked down, "but knowing katsuki, he doesn't need anyone to take care of him. he's strong and independent and he knows it. it'll hurt his pride if someone helps him without him asking them to." you smiled to yourself, "i just hope he knows that when he needs me, i'll always be here for him."
mitsuki smiled at you in awe. you have the mother's approval, congrats!
katsuki just stared at you with furrowed eyebrows, masaru pats his back, "good job, son. i'm happy for you."
he then murmured a protest before drinking his water.
time passed by and it's eventually your time to say goodbye to the bakugos.
mitsuki hugs you for the last time and ask you to come have dinner with them again, masaru pats your head and thanks you for being there for his son.
both of you were in a car provided by the school for safety protocols when he spoke, "did you mean it?"
you looked at him, confused, "mean what?" "what you said earlier to my mom, shithead. did you mean it?" "well, yeah. i mean it when i say i'll always be here for you."
he wore this unreadable and unclear expression on his face. he looks mad? confused? no one knows.
"why?" he asked, "why what?" "WHY DO YOU KEEP MAKING ME REPEAT MYSELF. WHY DID YOU SAY IT?" "YOU'RE A FRIEND OF MINE, THAT'S IT."
he chuckled bitterly, "a friend. that's fucking funny. i literally though you also like me for a second."
huh.. what does he mean? also? you laughed nervously, "hey, did i hear you right? thought i heard 'also' there."
"you're fucking dense, aren't you? do you want me to scream it straight at your face? i fucking like you."
you froze. yes, but embarrassment caught up and you covered your reddened face, "WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY CONFESSING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT? WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SAY?"
"I AIN'T EXPECTING YOU TO SAY ANYTHING, SHITHEAD!" "I LIKE YOU TOO!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP I DON'T WANT YOUR PITY OF A CONFESSION." "IT'S NOT A PITY OF A CONFESSION BUT FINE! I DON'T LIKE YOU." "OKAY THEN. I'M BRINGING SOMEONE ELSE NEXT DINNER AND TELL THE OLD HAG WE BROKE UP." "NOOOOOOO!!"
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ㅡ todoroki
i was contemplating whether to have him help fake date or have him need help. it's fitting if he's the one in need so i decided just that.
he might seem dense and clueless most of the time but he's the epitome of evilness.
he talks about you all the time that's why fuyumi has taken a liking to you and asked shoto to invite you to dinner with them.
shoto sees this as a chance. he'll take advantage of the situation because he knows you won't say no.
he goes to where you are sitting, "i apologize but my sister, fuyumi, she thinks we're dating. she wants to invite you to dinner at our house later." he said that with a straight face but this mf is smirking on the inside.
"uhhh, okay? sure? but uhm, why would she think we're dating?" "she thinks everyone close to me is dating me. she's like that.. yes. fuyumi likes you the most, i think. that's.. uh, that's why she's inviting you to dinner." (I HC HIM AS A BAD LIAR)
sounds suspicious and weird, but okay? you have a lot of question in mind.
"i would go. but how should i act? why didn't you tell her we aren't dating though?" "i don't want to disappoint my sister. you can act like you're dating me, if it's fine with you. just for a day."
"sure, sure! just tell me where and what time. i'll be there." "no, you can come with me. we'll go there together."
he brings you to the todoroki household after class. their house is soooo pretty. it's a traditional japanese house.
fuyumi was the first one to greet you, with her sparkling eyes and bright smile, she held both your hands gently and said, "i'm so glad you came! i've been wanting to ask shoto to have you come eat with us. thank you for coming!"
natsuo jogged from the back and gave you a cool wave, "hey, (y/n). how was it dealing with shoto?"
you faked sighed, "awful. how did you deal with him for the last 16 years?" "we never did." "oh.... OH NO I'M SORRY!" "HAHAHA. it's fine, i'm just kidding. no biggie."
enji won't be home for the day. he's busy doing number 1 hero works.
the dinner was fun. it was the funniest dinner you have ever had.
shoto's quietness is the exact opposite of natsuo's talkativeness. that man is talkative and funny as fuck. throwing jokes everywhere. it was entertaining.
all shoto did was take care of you. he serves you all the food you point at, gets you water, he even went too close for comfort and wiped a stain just above your lips. it made you blush, yes. you don't know why but it left you lightheaded. (you're in love with him, that's why)
fuyumi.. our beautiful and beloved fuyumi.
she exposed his brother's ass.
"aww. you guys are so cute together. ah! (y/n), do you remember that time when.. uhm, kaminari was it? i forgot his name but do you remember that time where he told you, midoriya, and the girls to wear a maid costume for the festival because your class is having a maid cafe booth? shoto told me you were so pretty that time! he hated how the boys in your class looked at you like you were some sweet treat, isn't that right, shoto?"
"and do you remember when you fought bakugo at the sports festival? where it was a close fight and you gave him a hard time? shoto said you won if the decision was up to him and that you were so cool!"
and she went on and on.
shoto was red as a tomato (or even redder) beside you. he was clutching his pants as if he was asking the floor to just eat him up.
you decided to ask him about this later to not uncover the fake dating plan.
dinner ended after a little talking, fuyumi gave you leftovers to take home which you will not reject because her cooking is divine, and asked you to come again after giving you a big and warm hug.
natsuo gave you a high five and thanked you for coming. he also thanked you for laughing at his jokes. he feels like he's very funny now.
both said goodbye to shoto.
the journey back to the heights was quiet but not awkward. it seems like shoto knew you have a lot in mind.
you spoke when he's about to open the main door. "what was that?" he looked at you with a confused expression, "the one at dinner."
"ah, if it isn't obvious yet after my sister opened her mouth, i like you. i have been for a long time now." he said that with a deadpan expression, "it annoyed me at first, it annoyed me that you're in my mind whenever i try to sleep, you're in my mind everytime i wake up. it annoyed me that i want nothing more than to hold you near me, hold your hands, warm you up with my fire everytime you feel cold, hug you, kiss you." he sighed frustratedly, "i just want to do everything with you... i'm sorry. i'm not good with words."
WELL YOU DID NOT EXPECT HIM TO BE THIS STRAIGHTFORWARD.
but again, this is todoroki shoto.
"..what? shoto... i didn't know you felt that way. why didn't you tell me?" you asked him concernedly, you lifted your hand to hold his face but stopped halfway thinking maybe he doesn't want to be touched.
but then he held your hand and guided it to hold his face, "i didn't actually plan to confess but when people started talking about how good of a hero you'd become in the future and when everyone started saying they all want to date you, that's when i decided it's now or never." he looked at your eyes, "i don't want to lose this chance. that's why i started telling fuyumi stories about you and asking her what to do."
"is that why your sister thought we were dating?" "yes. she knows about how i feel for you. she told me to confess and i told her i did and that it went well. i lied to her. i don't know why."
you coughed, "so, she doesn't really think everyone close to you is dating you?" "yes." "you lied to me?" "yes, i apologize."
"you could have told me you like me too!?" "it's not that easy to confess. plus, i really wanted to know how everything will go. it went well, i'm satisfied. you like me too, right?" "i do, shoto. i like you so much." he smiled at you, that rare fucking smile he knows is pretty, "that's enough for me."
"BUT YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF EVERYTHING?" "yes. yes, i did." "WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU!!?" "date me, (y/n)" "OKAY!"
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ㅡ midoriya
a lot of guys from the other class have been bothering you. they kept on asking for your number and stuff. one even sent you flowers and a box of chocolates.
you appreciate it if you're being honest. what you don't appreciate is them sticking to you the whole lunch.
you told mina what's happening and she told you that the best shot of getting off those admirers of yours is to date somebody.
you don't wanna to that though. aside from focusing on studies, you have feelings for this certain someone with green messy hair and freckles. you don't want to date someone just to use them and lie to them.
"you know, what if you just get your shit together and confess to midoriya?" "MINA, BE QUIET! SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU!" "confess to midoriya!" she whispired.
"or just ask him to date you until your followers stop following you around?" kaminari interjects, "what, you mean like, fake date him?" "yeah. something like that." "you're really useful sometimes, aren't you?" "shut up, mina."
you've thought about it all night. would izuku think i'm using him? would he reject the idea? would he be mad about it?
after contemplating, you finally went out of your room and walked straight at his door. he opened it with a smile after 3 knocks.
"hey, (y/n)! how can i help you?"
you looked at him nervously. what you were about to ask is a big part to act. "i will get straight to the point. some people from the other classes have been bothering me for a while now. they keep on following me and asking for my number even though i rejected them all the time. i want to ask you if you could date me? IT'S FAKE! OF COURSE. will you please fake date me until they get off me? i, uh, i'm not taking advantage of your kindness. i promise. right?" you said with a shaking voice.
he laughed at your rambling, "no need to be nervous, (y/n)! i would love to do the honors and fake date you! it's like an undercover hero mission. it's so cool! when do we start?"
you smiled at his enthusiasms. izuku is really the kindest person here on earth. you told him what to do, who those people are, etc. your fake dating starts tomorrow.
izuku was waiting outside your door when you opened it, he has his usual beaming smile when you saw him, "hi, (y/n)! ready to start our mission?" he's surely so into this whole thing.
you both walked down the lounge area holding each other's hand. everyone was gaping at the sight except todoroki who remained munching on his sandwich and bakugo who, well, "fucking finally you idiots." he said.
izuku let go of your hand and held both his hands up while shaking his head in a panicky manner, "no, no! we're just fake dating. i'm helping (y/n) get rid of their admirers! they said it was bothering them!"
"okay. but (y/n), why deku?" the motherfucker was smirking at you. todoroki, bless him, caught the panic in your eyes and called bakugo off. "that's enough, bakugo. leave them alone." "tsk! fucking icyhot a fucking killjoy."
most of your admirers stopped following you after they saw you holding hands with izuku. he's been doing a lot for you. he tried to tie your hair at training and brought you water. nothing much happened inside the classroom because everyone knows it's just a show. lots of outsiders believe you're dating izuku. some still bothers you from time to time especially at lunch.
you were sitting with bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, and of course, izuku, when a group of 3 went to your table (they're brave. no one would come bother bakugo's table because everyone's terrified of him.)
"hey, (y/n). can you give me your number now? i just wanted to get to know you better." "(y/n) give me your number! i'll send you lots of chocolates. i promise!" "they're liars but i'm not. i'd take you to your favorite movie this sunday of you'll give me your number?"
you pursed your lips in an annoyed manner, your friends are here and they're embarrassing you. you were about to speak when izuku beats you to it, "please stop bothering (y/n). it's obvious that my partner doesn't want to give you their number."
the group stared at each other with bewildered expressions on their faces, one looked at izuki and asked, "partner? you mean, combat partner or boyfriend? (y/n)'s dating someone?"
izuku wore a prideful expression on his face, "yes, i am their boyfriend and they're dating someone. that's why with all due respect, please leave them alone."
the 3 backed out and apologized. not everyone has the same personality as mineta. the person who seemed like their leader walked forward and bowed, "we're so sorry. we should've stopped when they rejected us the first time. they're just so intriguing that's why we wanted to know more about them. we're really sorry." with that, they left.
you faced izuku and thanked him. it was nice to finally walk and look around without seeing unfamiliar faces follow you. "thank you so much, izuku! you saved me. really."
he smilled at you, "it's nothing! i'd do anything for (y/n)." izuku froze at what he said and started chuckling anxiously, "i.. i didn't mean it like that! hahaha! but if you need anything, i, uhm, i'd always be glad to help." you stared at him and said, "me too, izuku. i'd always be glad to help you! you can come to me everytime you need something." he blushed at what you said.
"FUCKING IDIOTS JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY! I'M TIRED OF HEARING BOTH YOUR SHIT! CONFESS TO EACH OTHER GODDAMNIT!" "oi bakugo. that's not how to do it." "SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR!" "bakugo, you're too noisy." "YOU HALF AND HALF BASTARD I'M TIRED OF YOU TOO!"
izuku coughed tensely, "(y/n), can i talk to you outside? i just need to tell you something." you nodded, "of course!" you both stood up and left the table of wild animals.
when the two of you got outside, izuku's hands were obviously shaking so without a thought, you held it. "are you okay?" "I AM... i am." "why are you acting like this? did something happen?" you asked worriedly.
"no, everything's fine. i just.. i don't know how it started but i just woke up one day thinking how i'd love you to be mine. i want to walk you to school, i want to tell everyone i'm your boyfriend, i want to kiss you good night. haha, is it to much to ask, (y/n)? i like you a lot." he told you that nervously, the boy was shaking and sweating.
"i can't believe it... izuku, i like you too. oh god, are you serious?" "i am, haha! i didn't know you feel the same. i'm really happy!" "i didn't know you feel the same too! half of our classmates knew that i like you. katsuki's just too noisy. he literally told everyone when you did extra training." "(y/n).. kacchan also knows about my feelings for you! he told todoroki and kirishima. is that why he's so persistent in getting us together?" "i don't know. that's just how he is."
you both were awkward as fuck but izuku asked if you'd like to date for real and you said yes.
when you came back to the table, it was bakugo who spoke first, "are you idiots finally together?" you replied to him with a middle finger which aggravated the blondie, "YOU FUCKER!"
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544 notes · View notes
ericspinkhair · 3 years
Text
guys my age don’t know how to love me good
pairing: dom!juyeon x noona!reader
synopsis: lee juyeon is the only guy who makes sex worth it
word count: 3.1k
warnings: noona kink, mentions of toxic and abusive sex, deep throating, no mentions of protection (wrap it before you tap it), inexperienced/unsure reader
a/n: this is for @rolezeure + anon
requests are open!!
masterlist + requests
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'y/n, I swear to god if you won't come to this party with me I will actually never talk to you ever again. you know what this is?' your best friend siyeon dramatically held up a pair of scissors. 'scissors, to cut our friendship.'
'but what am I supposed to even do there?' you scoffed. parties were stupid 'I don't know how to talk to people.'
'you don't need to talk, dumbass. you get drunk, grind on some hot dude and get laid.' siyeon rolled her eyes as she was so done with you.
'as if that is supposed to convince me to go. sex is completely overraded, my dude. it just hurts and the guys don't even care. as long as they get off on you it's fine.' you had not have had any positive experiences with sex. it usually hurt, the guys were rough and didn't really care if you were crying. there wasn't any pleasure you associated with it.
'that's cause you've been with only toxic men. but please, come with me! it's way too awkward to go alone and I need a hype woman. Sangyeon will be there. I cannot miss the opportunity to get with mr. dilf. have you seen him? he is sooo hot, y/n. I might never have another opportunity like this. and I need a lot of alcohol in my system first before I can initiate something,' she whined. she gave you the best puppy eyes she could to make you give in.
you knew your friend had been eyeing sangyeon for weeks. siyeon had tripped the first time she saw him and had to wipe away the drool from her chin. she then memorized his schedule and you would always have to watch him from afar. however, she could not utter a single comprehensible sentence without alcohol if she was nervous but when she was drunk she was the most sociable and flirty person and always got with whom she wanted.
sangyeon was usually never to be found at parties but this particular one was for his friend's birthday so siyeon knew he would show up. who knows if she would ever see him again, after all, he had just graduated from college and would be leaving campus. this was her last opportunity. you sighed.
'fine,' you finally gave in. she squealed and hugged you so tightly that you had trouble breathing.
'omg, I love you so much, y/n! you're a lifesaver. I owe you big big time.'
'you certainly do.'
you tried to convince yourself that maybe a party was just what you needed. finals were finally over and you were on your well deserved break before you started your last year of college.
a week later, the two of you took a cab to the party location. you arrived at a huge mansion that must have cost a huge ton of money. it felt like thousands of people were there, getting drunk and going skinny dipping in the gigantic pool. you recognized some of the people. you didn't really know them but you often saw them walk around on campus.
when you entered the house some dudes whistled at you. ew. you definitely had to get a drink to be able to stand all these gross men lurking around here. at least you had your pepper spray with you. better safe than sorry.
siyeon and you found the bar and immediately downed a couple of shots. the alcohol burned in your throat as you drank one after the other. your friend needed the effects alcohol brings with it quickly.
'have you found him already?' you scream over the music at siyeon.
'no, he's nowhere to be seen… maybe he's not here at all' she was pouting.
I grabbed her by the arm. 'come on. let's go search for him somewhere else. hmm, maybe he's outside?' you dragged her through the mass of people. she was gonna get laid tonight, you were gonna make sure of it.
the backyard was just as crowded but at least you got some fresh air. a lot of people were grinding on each and making out in the pool and hot tub.
'oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. he's there!' siyeon whisper shouted at you.
'where?' you couldn't find him in the crowd.
'over there next to the huge ass plant. he's standing next to jacob.' ah, you saw him. him and jacob were engaged in a deep conversation and occasionally sipped on their drinks.
siyeon just grabbed a drink out of a passing person's hand, ignore the complains and drank it all in one go.
'I need more.' so you went to get more alcohol before you could convince her that now was the time.
'how do I look? is my makeup smudged? do I look enough like 'daddy, I've been a good girl. pls choke me?' she kept on trying to flatten her hair hastily.
'you look absolutely gorgeous, girl. go get him, tiger.' she did look stunning. the red lipstick matched with her bold red dress. it was short and showed a lot of cleavage. her beautiful curves were perfectly highlighted and if sangyeon didn't drool over her then you would seriously have to buy him new eyes.
you high-fived each other and then she went to go on her mission.
you watched how he scanned her up and down, taking in her beauty, when she approached him and then smiled brightly. she touched his muscular arms as he said something that made her laugh. he seemed to be enjoying her company jacob, who had understood what was going on, had joined his other friends kevin and eric on the dance floor inside.
'who are we spying on?' someone whispered in your ear, making you jump and almost spill your drink. rude.
'oh, seeing if my best friend's gonna get laid tonight like she'd hoped to. seems positive so far.' the guy who had come up to you nodded interested. you had no idea who he was but you didn't exactly mind his company. he was a handsome fellow, with a face sculpted by the gods. his dark blue hair made him stand out even more.
'so what are you gonna do if she leaves with him? are you just going to leave?' he asked.
you shrugged your shoulders. 'probably. she's the only reason I came to this god awful party.'
'oh, you don't like it?' he raised his eyebrows.
'no, it's too full, it's too loud and I'm bored. who even is this guy who threw this party. I actually have no idea who he is,' you complained about everything. he seemed to become more amused as you went on.
'then allow me to introduce myself. hey, my name is juyeon.' he held out his hand.
'what does that have to do with- oh my god this is YOUR party!' you realized in shock. your face was burning with embarrassment. but he didn't seem to mind at all and just laughed light heartedly.
'yeah, I'm sorry you don't like it. if you like I could take you somewhere quieter with less people.' oh dude, he was flirting. why? you did look hot as fuck in your short black dress but you had literally just insulted his party.
'I'm sorry I'm not really up for sex or whatever it is you're offering.' you scratched your neck awkwardly. you wouldn't mind if he visited you in your dreams sometimes tho to have a good time.
'that's too bad. I was hoping I could make you feel good.' he brushed a finger over your cheek.
'I doubt you could. no one ever has.' he snorted at that.
'how old even are you?' you asked him.
'19, you don't have to worry. I'm a legal adult. you?' 'almost 21.'
'ooh, that's fun! are you sure you don't want to spend some private time with me, noona?' that was fucking unfair. he was using this noona thing to get you to give in. he knew exactly what he was doing and you could feel yourself getting aroused.
'I just don't think sex is right for me. it just hurts and doesn't do anything to make me feel good,' you explained to him.
'seems like you've only been with douchebags. I have a 100% rate of making women come. you should try and see for yourself, noona.' his lustful gaze stared deep into your soul, making your legs wobbly.
it seemed so tempting. he was super hot and couldn't help but notice the outline of his abs on his shirt. the alcohol was also encouraging you to make some bad decisions and step out of your comfort zone. this man somehow made you super horny with his toned body and god like face, whether you liked it or not. you caught yourself seriously considering going with him.
'here's a proposal. I give you head and if you're not satisfied with my services we can just stop there.' he leaned down and whispered in my ear. 'I would love to hear you scream my name, noona.'
his offer actually didn't sound too bad. juyeon might just be more skilled than the rest of the men you had slept with, who knew. you didn't have anything better to do anyways so you might as well see if he can make you feel good.
'where do we go?' you finally asked after staying silent to keep a suspenseful silence. his eyes lit up and he grabbed your hand. he led you back inside, up the stairs and into the room on the far right.
you could see posters of football player, trophies and pictures. this was obviously his room.
you didn't have much time to look around as he locked the door and kissed you
you were surprised by just how not slimy it was. usually, the guys would always try to wet your whole face and you had to wipe your mouth every other second.
but he started off soft and placed his hands on your hips. you put your arms around his neck to get closer to him and deepen the kiss.
his hands started roaming your body and when he squeezed your ass, you let out a moan. juyeon took this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your open mouth.
the kissing made you dizzy and you desperately tugged at him to get him closer to you. he picked you up and held you up against the wall. you let your hands wander under his shirt and started tracing his abs while grinding your core against him. you could feel his dick harden with your movements.
juyeon carried you to the bed and slowly let you down so you laid on your back. while he quickly took off his shirt you tried to catch your breath after the intense make out. you didn't have long to admire his muscular upper body before he lifted the dress so you were only there in your underwear.
he startes placing open mouth kiss from your collar bones, to your boobs, to your stomach until he reached the hem of your panties. he made sure to keep eye contact as he put the fabric between his teeth and slowly pulled them down like this. you felt cold air hitting your core.
'so pretty, noona,' he admired your clearly dripping pussy. he dragged one finger over your lips to see just how wet you were.
'I haven't even touched you yet but you are already so wet for me. I told you I'd make you feel good. I'll show you just how much, noona.' and with that he dove right in between your lips to prove his point. the feeling of his tongue fucking you was unfamiliar. no guy had ever even cared to get you wet and pleasure you before actually having sex.
Juyeon was desperately devouring your juices as if he hadn't drunk for ages. additionally he started massaging your clit with his thumb, knowing exactly what a woman likes. he had to hold down your hips to keep you stable because you were trying to buck up into his face as it felt so good. every time his nose came into contact with your clit while licking you felt like you were losing control.
involuntary moans were spilling out of your mouth and you could feel juyeon smirking against your core.
suddenly, he slipped a finger inside you and started slowly pumping it in and out of you. it felt a bit uncomfortable at first but you got used to it quite quickly and when he noticed, he slipped a second finger inside. damn, those were some long ass fingers.
your pussy made squelching sounds which you couldn't care less about in the moment as he rapidly fucked you with his long digits. you were pulling at his hair as he took your bud between his teeth, alternating between softly biting and sucking on it.
you suddenly couldn't take it anymore and your orgasm washed over your body like a wave and juyeon slowly continued until you had fully come down from your high.
he sat up straight again. 'I promised I could make you feel good, didn't I? god, you look so hot when you come, noona.' fuck, where did he learn to do all this? maybe he was right after all.
you noticed that his nose was coated in your juices but he didn't seem to care at all. 'do you want to continue?'
'only if you can make me come again,' you challenged him.
he scoffed. 'that's not even a question, noona.'
he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. the shape of his bulge was clearly visible through his underwear. you reached inside and whipped out his already hard dick. you gulped.
'it's so big,' you whispered afraid. he was bigger than the other guys you had slept with and if they had already hurt you then his cock would probably hurt even worse.
he stroked your hair out of your face. 'don't worry. I've already prepared well so you should be able to take it without a problem. I'll make sure to go slow to not hurt you, okay?' you needed to trust him. it seemed like he actually knew what he was doing.
you gave his dick a couple of strokes to see how he reacted before you wrapped your lips around his leaking tip. seeing juyeon throw his head back gave you the encouragement you desperately needed to go forward.
you took him all the way until you started gagging. this was something you were good at. you started deep throating him and he moaned out your name.
'fuck, noona. you are so good with my cock.' he brushed your hair to the side so you it wouldn't be in the way when you sucked him off.
you noticed that he tried to control himself but couldn't refrain himself from bucking up his hips a few times, making you gag.
he then stopped you. 'I can't come yet. I need to show you how proper sex is done first.'
you laid down on your back and he positioned himself between your legs. he pressed your arms down next to your head and intertwined his fingers with yours.
'are you ready?' you gave him a nod.
'just squeeze my hand if it hurts.'
he slowly pushed his tip inside. you shut your eyes tightly and juyeon stopped to give you time.
'no, no. go all the way in first,' you whined.
his dick filled your walls up to the brim. you tried to calm down your heavy breathing. you squeezed his hands in pain and he held still. juyeon placed a kiss on your mouth.
'you're doing so well, noona.', he praised you. 'just tell me when you feel ready to go.'
it did hurt but not quite as much as the other times. and no one had ever waited for you to actually adjust before beginning to pound into you.
juyeon distracted you with kisses and as you started getting more comfortable you slowly started moving your hips against him. you gave him a slight nod to tell him he could continue.
he still started off with a moderate tempo and you needed more.
'faster!' you urged him and he picked up the pace. the way he snapped his hips made you see stars.
the pain was now completely gone and you were lost in your own pleasure.
when he started  thrusting into you from behind, he hit spots inside you you had never felt before. the new position allowed him to go even deeper and faster than before.
you moaned surprised as he spanked you.
'you like this, noona?' you could only groan out his name to show him how you felt.
the knot in your stomach became tighter and tighter.
'I think I'm coming!' you manage to get out.
'come for me, noona!' with that he went into overdrive and fucked into you like a machine.
your arms gave in as your walls clenched around his huge cock tightly and you came hard while screaming his name.
he rode out your orgasm and then pulled out. he stroke his dick fast and shot his big load on your butt and back.
he lay down next to you exhausted. his fingers wiped away the tears of pleasure you didn't know you had cried.
'did I make you feel good, noona?' 'more than just good,' you admitted satisfied.
'I guess guys my age just don't know how to treat me.' he hummed in agreement.
'that makes no sense. you are absolutely gorgeous. they missed out on the opportunity to see your beautiful face when you come.' this was weird. he was still nice to you even after he already came. what was this?
'thank you for making my birthday wish come true,' he said. 'huh, what do you mean?' you questioned him.
'actually, I've noticed you on campus before but I was always too shy to talk to you.' 'oh really?' you laughed sceptically.
'yeah, I wanted to ask you on a date first but it seems like we skipped a couple of steps.' he was blushing. gosh, he was kind of adorable.
'I mean we could still go on those dates if you'd like, birthday boy.' strangely enough you felt like you could trust him and kind of wanted to get to know juyeon as a person.
'awesome,' he smiled at you before he pecked your lips and went to clean you both up.
you had completely forgotten about siyeon. hopefully, her night had been just as satisfying as yours had been.
499 notes · View notes
stellarlex · 3 years
Note
What are your thoughts about Adrien/Cat Noir?
You got me started, so I won’t mince words.
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Adrien is a pain in the ass.
The way the show constantly makes it seem like he’s in the right when he absolutely fucking ISN’T is something that has infuriated me for a very long time. The writing makes him seem perfect but he isn’t. He’s not even a good friend, and Marinette’s crush addled brain forces her to listen to his garbage advice even though she knows better and is more experienced in social matters.
This fucking kid has only been breathing fresh fucking air for a few months and somehow he’s suddenly a fucking expert on how to deal with bullies and manipulators. That’s how he comes off to Marinette with how often he lets Chloe’s shitty behavior slide or his dumb advice about Lila: “Making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy.” Or, “If you humiliate her he’ll just be hurt more.”
But Chloé gets to humiliate and hurt others with barely any consequences from anyone, let alone Adrien. And Lila just gets to publicly make fools out of anyone who believes her nonsensical bullshit. And it’s only appropriate to chastise them only AFTER someone has been humiliated, hurt, and even EXPELLED right Adrien?
And sure, I can acknowledge when Adrien has his moments of a spine but it never lasts and always falls through. People are constantly screaming “but his dad and his childhood and he’s so sheltered and can’t stand up to anyone !” but forget that he chose to be a superhero and fight evil and has stood up to people.
I mean he stands up for Chloé and Lila quite a bit no matter who they hurt. He had no problem standing up to Marinette and shaming her and the others when they were rightfully happy that Chloé, their longtime tormentor and bully was leaving. He gets to be sad that Chloé is leaving and shame on anyone who is happy about that.
He was so concerned that Chloé left hurt and humiliated, (which was her own fault for trying to lie about her school project and after the bullshit she pulled with the Bee Miraculous) that he didn’t care about how badly Chloé made others feel on a daily basis. They were rightfully relieved to have Chloé gone and to celebrate having some peace in school for fucking once.
He seemed to have forgotten about how she nearly killed a train full of fucking people to make herself look like a hero. How soon he forgets how Chloé sabotaged Marinette’s great uncle, how she treats Sabrina, how she broke into Marinette’s room and stole her diary to win a class president election, stole Marinette’s hat design and tried to frame her for stealing, how she broke into Marinette’s locker and vandalized her gift to Bustier. Just so many things.
But noooo. That’s not important. What’s important was that HIS FRIEND was sad and that all her bad behavior is negated and that they shouldn’t celebrate her leaving because SHE kept HIM company when he was kept inside his home. Nothing else matters Right Adrien?
And let’s not forget about Lila. I’ve heard so many bullshit excuses about why he won’t expose Lila and it pisses me off something fierce:
“He doesn’t know that Lila threatened Marinette!” “Marinette didn’t tell him about the threat!” “He can’t stand up for himself because he’s scared his dad will pull him out of school!” “He’s scared of Lila!” “But his upbringing” “But his dad!” “He doesn’t have evidence!” “His advice is right!” “He doesn’t know how dangerous Lila is!”
ALL. COMPLETE. BULLSHIT.
Especially that last one. There has been multiple occasions where Lila has proven how dangerous she is outside of being akuamtized but he still won’t expose her. The time she got Kagami akumatized and WILLINGLY helped Oni-Chan, was proven true by the horn on her head growing every time she lied. Adrien as Chat Noir saw this. Ladybug warned him. A FIREFIGHTER examined Lila’s ankle and basically said she was full of shit about her injury and saw Chat Noir chew her out over her willingly helping an akuma.
Still don’t know how the firefighter didn’t report that to the cops but then I remember that Thomas Astruc is shit and I say to myself, “Ah, that’s why.”
Adrien knew then especially how dangerous Lila was. He even warned Ladybug about her. If I was Ladybug I’d have said “Yeah, no shit. I tried to tell you that 5 minutes ago but sure.” But instead of outing Lila, he still says NOTHING and continues to let her lie and promise his friends things she can’t possibly deliver, continues to let her mess with his friends dreams because she’ll be “hurt more.”
When was this bitch hurt at school I wanna know.
Also, there’s the fact that Adrien has chewed Lila out multiple times about her behavior, so he’s not afraid to stand up to her. He’s even done it in public where anyone can hear him like in school. But he just keeps giving her chances. I was excited when he chewed Lila out after “Ladybug” but then that quickly went away when he said that he didn’t have any proof.
But he does have proof of her lying. He was there when Ladybug chewed Lila out about her lying. If he spoke up about that, they would believe him because he doesn’t have a motive to speak against Lila, like the way others were skeptical of Marinette’s claims because of her crush on Adrien. There’s also the fact that she lied to get into his house and got Nathalie and his bodyguard into trouble.
There is a picture she sent out to multiple people so she can’t rebut that. And then the whole shit about framing Marinette and the red butterflies. He should have spilled all the fucking tea but he still kept his mouth shut. If his little talk with Lila hadn’t panned out Marinette would still be out of school and she would look like some horrible villain and no one would doubt Lila.
But noooooo. Lila will be humiliated, she’ll be hurt. It wouldn’t make her a good guy.
Screw you Adrien.
As for Chat Noir....
*breathes in*
He needs to get a fucking reality check or he needs to not have a miraculous. Yeah. I said it.
Here’s a special message for him:
Ladybug said no. Stop asking her to date you. Stop trying to make plans or trick her into romantic situations with you. Don’t throw tantrums because she doesn’t tell you things or because she won’t do what you want. Stop goofing off during battles. Stop sacrificing yourself you absolute DUMBASS.
Sincerely, me.
It boggles me why he gets to do all the shit he does and has no fucking consequences. Marinette’s toe can’t even twitch without someone breathing down her fucking neck about being the bigger person or just chastising her for not living up to the standards of a Ladybug.
I’m looking at you Tikki.
But Adrien gets to just do all kinds of shit without a HINT of consequences as Chat Noir. It’s fucking WILD. But apparently to some it’s more important that he keeps Plagg because he’s lonely and he shouldn’t be trapped inside his house with Gabriel.
That’s not what a miraculous is for??!?!!?!?!! 🥴
And sure, Marinette has had some slip ups as Ladybug. But not nearly as many as Adrien has as Chat Noir. But like I said, Marinette gets blamed for anything by any and everyone whether she’s Ladybug or not. Tikki and Alya chastised her because she entered the game tournament to spend time with Adrien.
WHY??
She didn’t cheat, she entered fairly and played fairly and won fairly just like Adrien did. But because it was to spend time with Adrien it was wrong. Even Max’s sore loser ass admitted before he left that Marinette beat him fair and square. It’s a competition. He wasn’t entitled to have a spot. He even looked upset when Adrien beat him and Adrien had a worried look on his face. Tikki even chastises Marinette saying that there were better ways to spend time with Adrien.
But there WEREN’T.
Adrien’s time is so closely monitored that he barely ever gets time to spend with friends. That was the only chance Marinette had to spend time with Adrien. But of course Marinette gets the heat for it.
But Adrien gets nearly nothing when he causes Copy Cat because of his lie about Ladybug. He gets to throw a tantrum because Ladybug didn’t come to a picnic she never agreed to in the first place with no consequences. He gets to be upset about Ladybug having someone she loved and refuse to work together with her. And it’s all just glossed over.
But Marinette? Everything she does is always wrong. She has no choice but to be perfect or somehow the whole fucking world ends. And while it’s not right, Adrien only has to look perfect for his dad’s company. The amount of pressure isn’t the same. He gets to be carefree in at least half of his life, but Marinette is always under pressure and always judged harshly while Adrien gets to fuck up with barely any consequences or repercussions.
In conclusion, I’m so tired of this “sunshine boy”. You asked for this, and I delivered.
455 notes · View notes
syllvane · 3 years
Text
breakfast- natahsa romanoff x reader
a/n: this was requested by anon! this is 4.5k words.
You still haven’t gotten used to the quiet that comes with half of the population being gone, but you can’t quite remember what it was like before either- you vaguely remember the hustle and bustle of life before the Blip, but that's all it’s become. A memory, one that seems to become harder to recall each and every day.
“What are you doing here so early?”
You nearly dropped the groceries that you had been holding, startled by Natasha’s voice in the hallway leading into the kitchen.
“You scared me- you’re lucky I wasn’t holding the eggs or something.”
Natasha looked at you somewhat amused, making her way into the kitchen and leaning against one of the counters.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
You glanced at her, smiling before turning back to where you were unloading the groceries.
“I was going to surprise you with breakfast, though I suppose it was silly to think I could surprise a spy.”
You didn’t miss the small smile that appeared on her face as you started unloading the groceries anyways, getting ready to cook.
“Silly, maybe, but also sweet. What can I do to help?” Natasha asked and you shook your head, pointing at her with the plastic spoon you had grabbed.
“Sit down, you’ve been doing a lot these past couple months- too much, I would argue. Let me do something for you.”
“You’re selling yourself short. You’ve been doing a lot around here as well,” Natasha protested and you gave her a pointed look before going back to cooking.
“If you really want to do something, then you can make us coffee. But nothing else. I want you to relax.”
“Coffee, I can do that,” She mumbled, springing into action, her arm brushing against yours as she filled up the coffee maker with hot water.
The next time you try to surprise her with breakfast is a little under a week later and when you walk into the Avengers compound, you are met with the smell of freshly cooked breakfast.
Damn her.
You walked into the kitchen, still carrying groceries, to see that Natasha had cooked what could only be described as a feast.
She looked at you, proud that she had one-upped you.
“How did you know?” You asked her, simply setting the groceries to the side.
She looked at you as if she was considering whether to lie or not.
“I didn’t,” She said honestly and almost a bit sheepishly. “I cooked every morning hoping that you’d show up one of these days. I know it’s silly.”
“It’s not, it’s…” You looked over the different plates of food as if one of them held the right words. “It’s incredibly sweet. I’ll make the coffee?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Breakfast becomes a regular occurrence for the two of you and although half of the universe had to disappear for the two of you to grow closer, you don’t mind it as much as you should.
“Hey,” Natasha said, drawing your attention as the two of you washed dishes side by side, your arms touching each other. “I’m going to have to cancel our breakfast date on Thursday. I think I may have a lead on Clint and so I want to go and see it for myself.”
“You want company?” You asked without hesitation and she looked at you.
“I don’t want to bother you and besides, I don’t think anything will come of it.”
“Okay well, one, you could never bother me, and two, even if nothing comes out of it, you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”
She didn’t say anything, though a small smile appeared on her face as she loaded the last of the plates and bowls into the dishwasher.
Though the prospect of you coming with seemed to make her happy for reasons she didn’t quite understand, she pushed you away.
“I’ll be fine alone, I promise.”
“Okay, if you promise,” You said, flicking a bit of the soapy water at her.
She stopped moving and looked at you incredulously.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Did what, this?” You asked, doing it again, more boldly this time
She looked at you and though everything about her face screamed ‘serious’, her eyes were alight with playfulness.
She stalked back over towards the sink and although you backed away and lifted your arms to protect yourself, she splashed you nonetheless.
Grabbing the nearest ingredient towards you, you lifted a hand full of flour and aimed it towards her.
“You don’t have to do this,” She said, walking towards you slowly with her hands lifted up as if she was surrendering. “Just drop-”
Before she can finish her sentence, you threw the flour at her.
Her face is covered in flour, clumps of it sticking to her face where you had splashed water previously and she stared at you in surprise, a smile still on her face.
Before you could even process what she was doing, she had her own handful of flour and threw it onto you, the flour coating your clothes and face, as well as the counters and the floor.
You lunged for the flour but she caught your wrist, your eyes meeting hers.
You reached your other hand towards it and she caught that as well, pulling you close to her, closer than you had ever been to her.
“Don’t,” She said softly, her eyes bright. “Don’t start a fight that you can’t win.”
“And where’s the fun in that?” You asked and she let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall back to your side and taking a step backwards.
“We should clean this up- Steve’s going to throw a fit if he sees this mess.”
“You have a meeting in a little bit, you can go. I got this.”
“Nonsense, I threw just as much flour as you. You take the island and the counters, I’ll take the cabinets and floors. It’ll get done quicker this way.”
“Nat-”
“Just… let me help you. Please.”
“You’re impossible,” You said but didn’t protest against her helping any longer.
As Natasha pointed out, the kitchen was completely clean in half of the time that it would’ve taken for your to clean it alone, leaving Natasha more than enough time to change her clothes and to get any remnants of flour off of her face and out of her hair before her meeting.
Well, almost all of it.
“Nat, wait!” You yelled, running after her before she turned the holographs on.
She turned and looked at you, concerned.
“What is it?”
“You just had a little…”
You got close to her and using your thumb, you wiped some flour off of her face that she hadn’t noticed.
“Thank you,” She said softly and the two of you just stood there like that for a couple of seconds before you pulled yourself away.
“Right. Have a good meeting, Natasha,” You said before turning away, not waiting for her response.
That’s the last time you have a full conversation with her before she goes looking for Clint.
You’re almost done making breakfast when she enters through the front door, looking worn out and exhausted, dropping her bag onto the floor.
She continued into the kitchen, blinking when she noticed you staring at her and the food that you had already set onto the table.
“How did you…” She sniffed, wiping her nose, searching for the words.
You turned the stove burner off and closed the distance between the two of you, pulling her into a tight hug.
She hugged you back just as tightly as if you were a lifeboat and she was drowning in the middle of the ocean.
“I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t… I don’t recognize the man who did those things.”
“I know, Nat.”
“And he acts like we didn’t lose everything as well. We lost everything as well and yet, we continue, no matter how much we’ve lost, because we don’t have the luxury of playing vigilante. Some of us have a world that we’re trying to put back together, you know?”
“I know,” You said softly.
She doesn’t say anything for a while, just stands there in your arms.
“I miss Yelena. I miss Alexei and Melina. I miss them so much it feels like I’m just drowning in it. Like it’s just going to swallow me whole one day.”
“Tell me about them.”
And so she does.
She tells you about Ohio and about life in between her time in the Red Room. She tells you about the destruction of the Red Room and about Yelena buying and giving to Natasha the first item of clothing that she had ever bought. She tells you about forest stars and photo booths and blue hair dye.
She tells you more than she has ever told anyone else, more than she will ever tell anyone else.
And eventually, she lets go.
Her face is red from tears, but neither of you point it out, both of you sitting down at the table and eating breakfast.
“I think this is the first proper meal I’ve had in days,” She said and you frowned at her, your eyes narrowing.
“You need to take better care of yourself. When was the last time you slept?”
She looked away from your eyes, back towards the plate of food.
“Haven’t since I left,” She said quietly, her eyes flickering back up towards yours to see your reaction.
The creases by your eyes deepened.
“Natasha-”
“In all fairness, I was going to go to sleep as soon as I got back, but someone surprised me with breakfast,” She said, punctuating her sentence with a forkful of food.
“Okay, but we’re going to sleep right after you’re done, okay?”
“‘We’?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m tired too,” You said sheepishly and in her tiredness, she did not push you further on it.
She pushed her plate away from her a little, standing up and taking your hand.
“We can do dishes later. Let’s go to sleep,” She said and you stood up, letting her lead you to her bedroom.
She pulled you onto her bed and you fell asleep in her arms, which was somehow only the second most romantic thing you had done with Natasha Romanoff.
The first was, of course, falling in love with her.
If someone had asked you to point out a specific month or day that you had fallen in love with her, you wouldn’t know where to begin.
Months of friendship blended together with something more and you weren’t quite sure where your feelings for her began and where they ended, where they had transitioned into something more, something greater.
It didn’t really matter, you supposed- months passed since her return from looking for Clint and things continued on as normal, with breakfasts and small touches, gestures from her that could be easily misconstrued as something more than friendship.
You didn’t mind the closeness though, the way her hands always seemed to graze over yours when reaching for the same thing or the way her arm would touch yours when the two of you did the dishes.
You didn’t mind it, just wished for more of it. Wished that she would just take your hand outright one day.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? Dinner is a little out of your wheelhouse,” Natasha joked and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m sure I’ll manage. Is it just Steve that’s coming tonight or are we getting the whole gang back together?”
“Just Steve, I’m pretty sure. Banner might come as well, but Pepper and Tony aren’t coming for sure.”
“Well, at least that minimizes the chances of a fight breaking out.”
“I can start throwing punches if needed,” She offered and you looked at her, a small smile on your lips.
“Appreciate the offer, but I think we’re good.”
“Well, if you change your mind…”
“I’ll let you know,” You smiled. “Now are you going to help me make dinner or not?”
The two of you easily fell into a rhythm while you cooked, anticipating each other’s needs before the other even said anything. Natasha would open her mouth to ask for a knife to find that you were already setting it down beside her.
“You know, I think we make a good team,” You said, your hands on your hips as you looked over all the hard work that the two of you had done.
Natasha wiped her hands on a towel before standing beside you, nodding.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this kitchen used before, not like this,” Steve noted, standing in the doorway behind the two of you.
Though both of you were well-trained in stealth and surveillance, you almost jumped when you heard Steve’s voice.
“Don’t sneak up on us like that!” You scolded Steve and before you even asked for it, Natasha handed you the towel that she had been holding and you threw it at him.
He held his hands up in defense, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiled. He caught it with ease and set it down on the island.
“Now, there’s no need for violence. It smells great in here, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day where she would be cooking,” He said, motioning towards Natasha.
“She’s working on it,” You joked and Natasha gave you a pointed look, suddenly wishing that she still had her towel. She settled for swatting at your arm with her hand. “Hey! Like the old man said, no need for violence. I was just joking.”
“What, I’m five minutes late and you guys are already fighting?” Bruce asked, walking in the front door.
“You came!” You smiled widely, walking over to the scientist and hugging him.
Steve looked back at Natasha.
“Can you believe that? He gets a hug and I get a towel thrown at me.”
Natasha let out a breathy laugh.
“You startled her, that was your first mistake.”
Steve smiled as well before grabbing one of the various dishes that the two of you had made and bringing it to the dining table.
Natasha started moving the dishes as well, giving a small, cursory nod to Bruce as he sat down.
You swatted at Steve’s arm.
“Dude, you need to sit down. You’re a guest.”
Steve looked at Natasha, pointing at you.
“Do you see this? She’s going to injure me.”
You shot him a playful glare before helping Natasha with the rest of the dishes and the silverware, setting plates down in front of everyone and taking a seat next to Natasha, across from Steve and Bruce.
Dinner started off lighthearted, the four of your digging into the food.
You talked of past stories and past missions and science and of everything but the unavoidable present, the reality that everyone had been stuck in for more than a year now.
It seemed crazy when you thought about it like that, that half of the population had been gone for over a year, a full rotation around the sun without some of your favorite people.
It was dark outside when the conversation shifted.
“So, how have you guys been with… everything?” Natasha asked and a hush fell around the table.
“I don’t know if it’ll ever get any easier,” Steve said honestly.
“I don’t know how it could get worse,” Natasha retorted, though everyone already knew the answer.
“Another year. Another two, another ten,” Bruce said solemnly before taking another sip of the water that was in front of him. He checked his watch and blinked, realizing for the first time how late it had gotten. “Sorry to leave on that note, but I should get going, guys. Didn’t realize how late it was.”
“I’m glad you came. It was nice seeing you again,” You said genuinely, standing up from the table and walking over to hug him.
He hugged you back, giving Natasha a little wave and Steve a pat on the back before you walked him out of the kitchen, towards the front door.
“You two make a good couple, you know. I didn’t realize the two of you were even dating, but you two seem to make each other very happy.”
“Thank you, but we’re not dating,” Natasha said, her lips pressed together in a tight smile.
Steve raised his eyebrows.
“Are you sure? Because with the way the two of you were looking at each other, I would’ve sworn otherwise.”
“Positive,” Natasha said, trying to stop herself from blushing.
“What are you two talking about?” You asked, walking back into the room.
Steve stood up from where he was sitting and you narrowed your eyes at him.
“You’re leaving us too?”
“Like Bruce pointed out, it’s getting late. It was so nice seeing both of you.”
You stood there for a minute before walking to where he was standing and hugging him.
“Don’t be a stranger, Steve. You are always welcome here,” You said before taking a step back.
He smiled back at you.
“I would hope so- I still technically work here, right?”
“Did Tony ever rehire you?” You wondered out loud.
“Did he ever rehire you?” He shot back and you shrugged.
“Fair point.”
“Drive safe, old man,” Natasha said before Steve hugged her as well.
“Goodnight, to the both of you.”
He walked out of the front door and you began cleaning up the dishes.
“Steve said the funniest thing earlier, when you were walking Bruce out.”
“Oh?” You asked, making it clear that you were listening even if you weren’t looking at her.
“He thought we were dating.”
You stopped what you were doing, turning the water off and setting the plate down.
“What did you say?”
“I just told him the truth, that we weren’t.”
“Why did he think that we were?” You asked, trying your best to seem as if your heart wasn’t pounding.
“Something about the way we look at each other,” She said as if she hadn’t committed the words to memory.
“Natasha-”
“I mean, it’d probably be a bad idea, with us working together and all.”
“Natasha.”
“And neither of us are really used to it either and-”
You turned around, taking a couple of steps so that you were only a couple of inches away from her.
Your hand hovered above her cheek.
“Can I kiss you?”
Her breath hitched.
“Yes.”
And you kissed her.
You kissed her that night and you kissed her the morning after, as her girlfriend, and you kissed her while she made breakfast and you kissed her again and again and again.
You kissed her on your six-month anniversary and you held her when she woke up from the nightmares she’d tell you about and the ones that she would never speak of.
And you keep on kissing her, until six months becomes a year and a year becomes two, until you can’t imagine a world that exists without her love.
“I’m still mad at you for getting out of bed so early,” You grumbled, looking over the breakfast that she had prepared for the two of you.
She nearly jumped when she heard your voice before she smiled warmly and pulled you into a tight hug.
“Morning. How did you sleep?” She asked, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Good. Would’ve been better if I could’ve slept a few more hours.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, though she seemed uncharacteristically anxious.
“We can go back to bed after, okay? Breakfast first.”
“This looks wonderful,” You said, wiping your bleary eyes and looking over the table more carefully before looking back at her. You poured coffee for the two of you. “You seem like you’re on edge.”
“I’m not,” She said, though you weren’t fully convinced. “Let’s eat.”
You sat down across from her, starting to eat when you became keenly aware of the fact that she was carefully watching you as you ate.
You set your utensils down and she nearly jumped out of her seat.
“Nat, what is going on?”
She blinked.
“Nothing, I-”
“You are a surprisingly bad liar, for a spy. Nat, just tell me what is-”
“Can you just… try the pancakes? Please?”
You stared at her for a couple of seconds but when her face remained unchanged, you sighed and cut a piece of the pancake and put it in your mouth.
You started chewing and you bit something hard.
“Did you leave eggshells in this or… oh.” You spit the bit on the napkin and upon closer examination, you could see what you were biting.
A ring.
You stared at it for a couple of seconds before looking back at where she was sitting to see that she was no longer sitting at all, but kneeling on the ground in front of you, a huge smile on her face and tears welling up in her eyes.
You laughed, covering your mouth.
“I’ve always known that you’re a hero. You’ve always shown such great care for everyone around you, whether they be your team members or civilians. You’ve saved so many people and I didn’t realize this when you first came over here and made breakfast for the first time, but you were saving me as well. From my grief, from loneliness. From myself, at times. You saved me and then you kept on saving me and kept on tearing down these walls that I had put up. I am not perfect and I will never promise you anything of the sort, but I am promising you that I will love you with everything that I am. I am promising that I will try to love you in the same way that you have loved me. I’ve never believed in marriage- I’ve never believed in a lot, if we’re being honest. But I believe in you. And I want to marry you, if you’ll have me.”
You didn’t say anything, tears in your own eyes before you burst out half-laughing and half-crying.
“Natasha, look in your coffee cup.”
She looked slightly confused but she did as you said, moving the coffee cup slightly so that she could see the bottom.
Her free hand rushed up to her mouth before she started laugh-crying as well and you got up and the two of you hugged tightly.
“I think that was the worst pancake I’ve ever had,” You mumbled into the crook of her shoulder, still laughing.
She began to laugh even harder, the two of you rocking in the kitchen.
After the two of you broke apart, she fished the ring that you had placed in her coffee out, admiring it.
“You never said yes, you know,” She pointed out and you looked at her, cleaning the ring she had given to you.
“Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you today or tomorrow or in a million years.”
“My answer is yes too. Though preferably not in a million years.”
A million years may have been a more reasonable time than you had thought- the two of you originally set a wedding date in the winter, though it was interrupted by a string of killings committed by Clint.
Turns out, he is good for more than making Natasha upset by not coming to your wedding, he’s also good for upheaving your wedding day in its entirety.
You reschedule the date a couple of months later, only for a couple of Widows to call for Natasha’s help in saving one of their own. She can’t refuse and you would never ask her to.
“I don’t know if it’ll ever be the right time,” Natasha said softly, laying next to you in bed, a couple of nights after returning from the mission.
You turned over so that you were facing her.
“For the wedding?”
She nodded.
“I don’t think it’ll feel right if everyone isn’t there with us. I know that you’ve been really busy planning for it, but-"
“Nat, I don’t care about a wedding. I don’t need some ceremony to tell you how much I love you. If you want to stay like this, if you don’t want a ceremony or anything, then okay. All I need is you.”
“How did I get so lucky?”
“You’re really good at cooking breakfast,” You mumbled back and she laughed.
“I love you.”
“I know,” You said sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open. “I love you too.”
The bubble of peace that you had managed to create for all these years remains for another, until Scott Lang shows up at the front door to the Avengers Compound.
From there, the bubble completely popped, not that either of you minded much.
This was what you both wanted, right? Everything back to what it was before.
Now, with Tony’s plan, everyone seemed to be running around the Avenger’s Compound again, everyone anxious to do something useful after all of these years.
“I still don’t like that he’s here,” You said begrudgingly and Natasha sighed. “He isn’t the Clint either of us knew.”
“I had to go after him. He deserves a chance at forgiveness,” She argued quietly, careful not to be overheard. “You’ve forgiven me for everything I’ve done. Why can’t you forgive him?”
“Because everything you’ve done since you left the Red Room has been in service of clearing out your ledger. He was killing people a couple of days ago.”
She didn’t say anything at that, thinking.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“I’m not asking to invite him to our wedding, I’m just asking you to trust him.”
You looked at her, unable to stop the smile that started on your face.
“We can finally get married- we can have our families at our wedding,” You said softly and she nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips as well.
“God, I can’t wait to introduce you to my family. I can’t wait to meet yours. I think you and Yelena are going to get along a lot.”
“Okay,” You said after a while. “I trust him.”
The two of you started walking towards the main open floor, where the machine that Tony had dreamt up had been constructed.
The others were already waiting there in their suits, waiting for your conversation to finish up.
“Okay. It’s Vormir, right? Where you and Clint are going?” Natasha nodded, her forehead leaning against yours. “Okay, well, you’re going to have to tell me all about it when you get back. I wish I was going in space.”
She smiled, kissing you on the forehead before proceeding to pepper your entire face with kisses before landing on your lips.
You don’t think you’ll ever be able to kiss her enough.
“Yeah, you only get to time travel,” She smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it, I promise. I love you.”
“I love you too. Come back home, okay? I’ll have breakfast waiting.”
“Okay,” She said softly, stepping back. “I’ll make the coffee.”
“You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Just be there, Nat.”
“I will,” She said, beaming. “I promise I will.”
In the last moments you’re with her, she looks the happiest that you’ve ever seen her.
211 notes · View notes
sugaxjpg · 4 years
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ghosts just wanna have fun; m
⤷  When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.
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✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Psychic!AU & MedSchool!AU
✓ Filed under: fluff, crack (so many ghost puns), light smut (and jungkook being a nervous virgin) 
✓ Words: 20,062
Author’s Note: In which Jungkook is able to see spirits, but it’s just Taehyung and Yoongi giving him dating tips because he sucks at talking to girls. Hope you guys like it, because it has been on my WIPS for over a year and a half and I can’t believe it’s finally out there... emotional, really.
Also, huge thanks to @storytaeme​, who proof-read this mess like a champ. 
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 There aren’t many embarrassing situations that can overcome the fact that Jeon Jungkook found out about his psychic abilities as he was about to lose his virginity. 
To say the least, that hadn’t been the most pleasant of scenarios to open the pathway to the afterlife. Really, there was no casual way that he could justify the scream that broke from his lips, or the dramatic spin he took as he turned around on the bed — which, ultimately, had him falling into the small space between the nightstand and the wall, with his legs up in the air, and his butthole fully exposed for both planes of existence to see. 
Still, that hadn’t been the worst part. If those two pallid silhouettes had merely disappeared once he had seen them, it wouldn’t have been as traumatic — perhaps Jungkook could have found a semi-believable excuse about what he had witnessed — but no. Not only did the ghosts remain there, with their arms crossed before their achromatic clothes and eyebrows slightly raised in expectation, they continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. 
“Oh, he was definitely going to put it in the wrong hole,” the shorter of the two murmured, clearly entertained at the idea. 
The other scoffed. “What if he did?” he threw back. “Maybe he likes that, we can’t judge.”
Truth was that, one way or another, Jungkook couldn’t even figure out what he liked — he didn’t even get the chance. He was gone from his (ex) girlfriend’s place before his brain could even attempt to construct a plausible explanation, even less to digest what had preceded that unfortunate revelation. Now, the wrong hole would forever be a source of trauma for him. 
And the problems didn’t exactly stop there. Ever since his cherry-popping session was interrupted, Jungkook hadn’t been able to move further than the first base, thinking that he would embarrass himself all over again or, worse, be frightened by a random demon passing by. Also, the constant mockery of his ghostly counterparts certainly didn’t help his concentration. 
The worst part? Helping Jungkook was kind of their whole point. And they couldn’t even do that right. 
Taehyung and Yoongi were their names — they told him right after the first night he saw them. Jungkook didn’t know what had happened in the afterlife that they had been punished with such a horrendous mission and, frankly, at that point, he was too afraid to ask. 
“But I don’t need your help,” Jungkook had said after one particularly bad date, dramatically throwing himself onto his bed. The furniture creaked under his weight and he wondered if it would snap before his mind did. “I just want you to leave me alone or, I don’t know, help me with something else — something useful.”
The two ghosts were by his desk, looking at his class notes and, at that comment, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Useful? Like what?” He asked. 
“I don’t know, solving crimes or something,” Jungkook mumbled, turning around so he would face the wall. God, he just needed two seconds alone. 
Behind him, Taehyung laughed. “You don’t even know how to open a bra, and you're out there thinking of reopening cold cases? Give me a break.” 
“Ouch,” Jungkook whispered. Maybe another time, it would’ve hurt his pride a bit more. That night, however, he was too tired to care. “For your information, I do know how to open a bra. You two just started whispering and it distracted me.” 
“We were whispering to you the instructions on how to open a bra,” Yoongi responded. “Would you need those if you knew what you were doing? No.” 
Jungkook sighed. “I just—”
“This conversation is done, we went over this already.” Yoongi interrupted. “You need us, whether you want it or not. You’re painfully bad at romance, Jungkook, even worse at initiating sex. I’ve never seen something like that before.” 
At that, Jungkook rolled on the bed and faced them. There was only one light in his bedroom that was on — the table lamp — and its clear orange shade passed through them both in an odd mixture of contours and lines. “Maybe if I could do it myself, without you two buzzing around the place, it wouldn’t be so bad,” he responded, aggressive. 
“Calm down. You were already bad enough when we arrived,” Taehyung told him, leaning over to see all the scattered pages on his desk. He frowned once he saw something he couldn’t quite understand, and quickly turned away from it. “Nothing changed much.” 
“Right!” Jungkook sat up on the bed. “Isn’t that enough of a sign for you two to stop trying to help me, then?” 
“No,” Yoongi said calmly. “That’s a sign that we have to try harder. And so do you.” 
He sneered. “I absolutely don’t.” 
“Yes, you absolutely do,” he said. “You know what? Grab your phone and get yourself a date with that girl you like from physiology class. Two weeks from now.” 
There was a second of silence as Jungkook’s mind struggled to piece the idea together. He wasn’t even sure about who Yoongi was referring to, there were a lot of girls in his class. “What? Why?” 
“Just trust us. She’s into you,” Yoongi spoke. 
Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’ll work out.” 
Jungkook scoffed. “When does it, really?” 
“This time, it will,” Taehyung said. “Really. Do it.” 
“Fine.” He breathed out, reaching for his phone. “What girl?” 
Yoongi looked him up and down. “You know what girl.” 
With a deep breath, Jungkook scrolled over his contact list, struggling to find someone that he would have even the slightest chance with. Truth was, he has no fucking clue of which one of the hundred and fifty people in his class would even look in his direction, much less go on a date with him. 
“You do know… right?” Taehyung asked, clearly worried. “We can’t really give you names, but you… know, right?” 
“What? Oh, yeah, yeah! Sure I do!” Jungkook laughed nervously, clicking on a random name and opening a chat. “Here, I’m sending her a text right now. No reason to worry… no reason at all.” 
“Good,” Yoongi said, distracted. “Now, if you need us, we’ll be watching Gone Girl with your neighbors. We already missed the start of the movie, and I’m pissed off as it is.”
Taehyung nodded. “Amazing movie,” he said. Jungkook pressed send and prayed for the best. “We should have more movie nights over here.” 
 Yoongi said something in agreement and, in a second, they were already gone. Jungkook was left alone in his bedroom, with the light of his lamp casting over his features the desperation that he was feeling inside. 
“This better work,” he mumbled to himself. “You two better not be trying to embarass me.”
_____________
And then, two weeks later, Yoongi and Taehyung were laughing at him as his last failed attempt at romance got up from her chair and basically ran away from him.
Yoongi leaned back against the chair, his ankles crossed over the large table. If someone else could see him then, he surely would have received a few complaints about keeping the mall under semi-sanitary conditions. “Jungkook, I’ll tell you something,” he started, clearly amused. “You’re so bad at romance that I wish I was alive just so I could punch some reason into you.”
Taehyung, who had stayed mostly quiet during the painfully awkward interaction, walked beside Jungkook and chuckled at his distress. Still, he was focused on the other ghost, and the implication of his speech. “That amount of violence is the exact reason why you’re no longer alive, Yoongi,” he pointed out, then turned to Jungkook before he could smirk at the reprehension. “But really, that was awful. If I weren’t spiritually tied to you, I would’ve given up by now. You’re hopeless.”
“Completely out of it,” Yoongi added. “Do you even know how women work?” 
Jungkook rolled his eyes, and reached for his phone: there was no way he would enter a discussion with those invisible pricks in a public situation without something to mask it. Not that it would have been the first time.  
Yoongi materialized on the seat next to Jungkook, his head leaning against his hand. The boy was already used to those sudden changes of position, but that didn’t mean that he liked it. In fact, after Taehyung had appeared next to him during a particularly bad time — in which the incognito tab had already been opened, and a bottle of lotion already waited for him — he could never erase the intense panic of such experiences. 
But of course, Yoongi knew that, and he used his discomfort for his own entertainment. “You can’t ignore us, kiddo,” he said slowly, clearly amused. “And you can’t ignore the fact that you’ll die alone, surrounded by cats, if you don’t start listening to what we have to say. We have been tied to you for a reason.”
“And the reason,” Taehyung added, “is to make you stop cockblocking yourself.” 
With a subdued groan, Jungkook pressed his phone against his ear — an old trick that allowed for him to have a conversation without being seen as clinically insane by passersby. “You two are the reason why this date went downhill,” he told them. “You told me to say all the wrong things. You two set this up knowing I’d fail.” 
“Oh, no.” Taehyung shook his head in disagreement. “The words were right. Your delivery was awful.” 
“Western-movie-awful,” Yoongi added. “And if you want to change that, you have to trust us.” 
“Trust you? Where has that taken me?” Jungkook questioned, irritated. “You’re the reason why I lost my first girlfriend and haven’t had another one ever since.” 
Yoongi chuckled. “The girl from the first night? She never talked to you again after that, did she?” He asked, but, of course, he already knew the answer. “Damn, that was cringe-worthy. Butt in the air and everything.”
“No need to remind me, I was there.” Jungkook clenched his jaw, trying to control his demeanor. It wasn’t fair that there was not much that he could do to make the two men shut up — since they were, quite literally, already dead, he didn’t have many threats to utter. “And whose fault was that?” 
“Technically, yours.” Taehyung shrugged. “We didn’t present ourselves to you, you just saw us all of a sudden. We were just as surprised.”
“Besides, you were the one that had the B.F.,” Yoongi added. 
Jungkook raised one eyebrow. “B.F.?”
“Bitch fit,” Taehyung elucidated. “He watched White Chicks with your neighbors last night, don’t worry about it.” 
Jungkook groaned, pressing his hand against his face. Of course — the cherry on top would be outdated pop references, as expected. Yoongi had always been quite fond of the classic ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, and Jungkook thought that the overuse of that quote would be the ultmost reason for his insanity. Nevertheless, he came to understand that it was nothing compared to movies like White Chicks or even Legally Blonde. He would rather hear Uncle Ben’s famous line a billion times over before Yoongi accused him of having a B.F. once more. 
He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the environment around him. The murmurs and disembodied conversations around the mall had morphed into the sound of irritating insects, and he felt as if the earth could just open up and eat him alive. He probably committed a terrible crime in a past life to be stuck with Tweedledee and Tweedledum like that. 
“Anyways,” Jungkook stressed, “it didn’t seem like the two of you were surprised that I could see you. You just kept… talking about me. And my ass.”
Taehyung chuckled. “You were the one with the ass up in the air.” He vanished, then materialized in the seat in front of Jungkook. “What were we supposed to do? Ignore it?” 
“It was an easy target,” Yoongi spoke, then seemed to realize the words that had left his mouth. “Wait, I didn’t mean the double interpretation.” 
“Why can’t the two of you just fucking help me for once?” Jungkook asked aggressively. In a nearby table, one old man raised his eyes from his vegan burger and stared the boy up and down in disapproval. Jungkook lowered his voice and switched his phone to the other ear. “This is unbearable. You two are only making it worse.” 
With a gesture that Jungkook knew all too well, Taehyung used his thumb to point over his shoulder, towards the path that his failed date had followed. “That one wasn’t good enough for you,” he said nonchalantly. “We can tell. We know stuff.” 
“Then why did you set this up in the first place?” He asked, exasperated. 
“As DJ Khaled says, you played yourself,” Yoongi cited. One more reference and Jungkook would be the one joining the world of the dead. “It’s not our fault that you get nervous and can’t deliver the lines right. When have the two of us ever failed?”
“When you died,” he spoke back. “Or did you forget the stupid mistake you made?”
Yoongi hesitated. As much as he tried to play it cool, he wasn’t the smartest one around. In fact, his tragically premature death was all the evidence Jungkook needed to make his point clear. 
During his living days, Yoongi was pretty invested in rock climbing. On a beautiful summer afternoon, just as the sun was setting over the green-bathed hills, one of his friends dared him to bungee jump from the same cliff they had just climbed, and were standing on. Of course, the man agreed promptly, saying that he wouldn’t back out from such a mundane task; stating repeatedly that the fall wouldn’t be so high up anyway. But that wasn’t the turning point: Min Yoongi, in all his adventurousness, quickly decided that his local shop was too expensive and that he would create his own bungee jump cord instead. 
According to him, making the cord proved itself to be quite an easy task. He had gotten some help from his local adrenaline addicts and the final product was a very good copy of the factory-made ones. He measured the cliff twice just to be certain, compared it to the rope, and made sure to test the sustentation and elasticity as many times as he could. 
Still, Yoongi had overlooked an imperative detail: he shouldn’t use a cord that was the same height as the cliff he was jumping from. 
Needless to say, he only realized his mistake once he was already dead. 
Yoongi scoffed at the memory, ignoring his hurt pride. He swore he could still feel his back hurting when he thought about that. “That isn’t the point,” he said. He often did that: changed the subject once he realized he couldn’t leave with the upper hand. “The point is that you keep delivering lines like you’re a bad boy in a South American novela, then expect us to perform a miracle on you.” 
Jungkook frowned, lowering his head. “That’s actually so wrong.” 
But the problem was: Yoongi was right, and Jungkook knew it. In fact, that had been the exact reason why his date had left him that night — the boy had misunderstood Taehyung’s advice to play off as a mysterious man, and instead projected his image somewhere between a psychopath and a person that had only K-dramas as a basis of how human interactions were supposed to work. Jungkook missed his attempts at romance the entire time, but the breaking point was when Yoongi told him to act as a bad influence because, according to him, girls dig a good bad boy. 
Once again, Yoongi wasn’t the brightest mind when it came to risk-taking. That was why he was more dead than Jungkook’s bedroom. 
Jungkook, however, did not realize his own errors until it was too late. He had chuckled at his date’s embarrassment, using his opening to delicately place her hair behind her ear. “I’m going to tell you something,” he started, voice swift and placid as a river. With his eyebrows raised and his lips vaguely forming a pout, he looked like an off-brand version of Handsome Squidward. “I’m not really a good influence, and surely not the kind of guy you’d like to get with. So why don’t you do me a favor and follow the simple orders I give you, uh?”
Her eyes had widened in a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and fear. From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook saw her reaching for her purse over the table. “No, thank you,” she was quick to say. “I don’t think this will work, sorry. I’ll see you around college.” 
And that’s how they ended at that point. The point they always seemed to end up in. 
“I think I need a break from all of this,” Jungkook said, closing his eyes for a moment of peace. “I have a huge test next week and I couldn’t even study for it because of all the preparation for this stupid date. Can you two just take a step back? Just for a little while. Romance can’t be all that I think about.”
As he opened his eyes, he saw Taehyung staring at him. He couldn’t really read his expression. 
And, without an answer, the two of them vanished. 
_________________
If someone asked Jungkook why the hell he thought going to medical school was a good idea, he’d simply say that, at the time, it made sense. After all, he had thought, he’d be some sort of super-doctor, since he had an exclusive VIP pass to the afterlife — just imagine how many people he would be able to help just by asking a friendly ghost what was wrong with a patient. It would be a game-changer. He could even find the cure of cancer if he tried hard enough. 
But of course, he quickly realized that he should’ve thought further about his decision. Maybe being a detective would have made much more sense — it would have been a lot cheaper, that’s for sure, and he wouldn’t have to sit through almost twelve hours of classes every single day for a diploma that seemed to be too far away for him to care. 
That particular class, however, wasn’t the worst one out there. 
It was Tuesday, and Tuesday meant Pathology. Jungkook loved that class because the professor hated teaching it, so the students had to sit in silence for about three hours trying to read the textbook by themselves. The professor said he would be there to answer any questions, but he was mostly scrolling through his phone and interrupting students every time they tried to ask him something — “That’s in the textbook, just keep reading.”  
Most of his classmates absolutely despised that subject, but Jungkook thought it was wonderful: he often learned better by himself anyways, and the lack of conversation during class brought him some sense of peace. Besides, Yoongi and Taehyung hated sitting in that quiet room for too long, so they mostly left after ten or twenty minutes of trying — and failing — to strike up a conversation with Jungkook. It was the perfect day.
Well, most days it was. 
Just as he was about to move forward to the next topic — Adrenal Insufficiency and Addison’s Disease — , the boy felt something poking his bicep and he was quick to turn to his side. Instantly, he recognized your expectant gaze and something fluttered inside his stomach. 
“Hey, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning over your desk, “is tomorrow afternoon still up? I really need help in cardiac physiology. I kind of suck.”
He hummed in agreement, fighting against the nervousness that crept up on him. Jungkook’s palms started to sweat just by looking at you, he really was one step away from reverting back to his pre-teen days. “For sure. I’ll be at yours at five,” he managed to get out. 
“Thank you so much,” you said, then moved back against your seat. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. If it had been anyone else, Jungkook would’ve had a stroke by then — after all, he wasn’t always invited to a girl’s place so easily. That’s someone that I have absolutely no chance with, he thought. So friendzoning himself made everything much easier. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet up at the library?” 
“I can’t really concentrate there,” you answered. “But if you prefer, we could go.” 
“No, no.” He shook his head. “Your place is fine.” 
You smiled again, and Jungkook thought that maybe being shot wouldn’t hurt so much. “Thanks. See you at five.” 
Jungkook nodded and turned around, facing his laptop. Just as he was about to restart typing his notes, he saw a known reflection at the corner of his computer. Oh, God, have mercy.
Yoongi’s reflection smirked from the back row. “Oh, man, she’s so into you.”
 Jungkook shook his head in denial, eyes still glued to the PDF file in front of him. If anything, his classmates would have just guessed he was finding that subject more difficult than usual and, quite frankly, no one could judge him. 
“No?” Yoongi raised one eyebrow, reappearing by his side with his hand supporting his cheek. Jungkook didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was just looooving the discomfort that grew inside his limbs. “I know those things, kiddo. It’s my job.”
From the front seat, Taehyung hummed in agreement. He had his arm placed over the chair, and seemed to find that entire situation a bit boring — maybe because he had seen it countless times before. “She definitely wants to get some of that,” he said. “We are proud of you, son.” 
With a subdued sigh, Jungkook scribbled some aggressive words at the corner of his notebook, and showed it to the man by his side. “Look at this, Taehyung, he’s trying to convince us that they’re just friends,” Yoongi mocked, crossing his arms. “That’s cute. Just because you’re that oblivious, it doesn’t mean that we are.”
“Jungkook, we’ve been watching the two of you talk the entire semester,” Taehyung added. “Besides, Yoongi made me follow her around once. She’s definitely into you. In unholy ways.”
Yoongi nodded once again. “She wants to be your boo.”
“Was that a fucking ghost pun?” Taehyung’s nose cringed up in disgust, and Jungkook had to fight back the reflex of laughing at his reaction. “Awful.”
“At least I’m not the one who ghostwrote Jungkook’s ethics essay.” Yoongi threw back. “Yeah, and that was another pun. You’ve got no spirit.” 
“You know what? Now I know why Jungkook can’t stand us anymore.” Taehyung smirked and, then and there, Jungkook knew exactly what was coming. “He can see right through us.”
The other ghost nodded. “Yeah, we’ve reached a dead end.” 
Jungkook groaned in exasperation, hiding his face behind his hands. “This is torture.”
Next to him, you chuckled. “Come on, pathology isn’t even that bad. You’re good at this.” 
“I know, I’m just tired.” He turned around to look at you, uttering the same excuse he had been using this entire semester. Not that it was an uncommon one, especially in the fifth circle of hell that was medical school. “I think I need to splash some cold water on my face. Wake myself up.”
You hesitated, staring at him as he stood up.  Jungkook looked strangely pale, like he was about to throw up all over the classroom. “Is everything okay?”
Fantastic! My bachelor ghosts are just making me have a nervous breakdown. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” He said, almost stumbling over your chair. Some of your pens fell down, but Jungkook couldn’t even bring himself to get them. He’d probably just knock everything else over in the process, and he wasn’t even sure that he could stand back up after. “Shit— Sorry. I’ll be right back.”
Behind him, Yoongi chuckled. “Spook-tacular skills, as always.”
_____________
The sound of running water was all that entered Jungkook’s mind for a moment, his face feeling the coldness of the liquid as he splashed himself once, twice, trying to clear his thoughts. In the end, it was mostly in vain: his class was ruined, his notes were left unfinished, and he couldn’t get a second of tranquility anymore — not even in Pathology. If he weren’t canonized after his death, he would file a complaint for sure. 
Abruptly, he closed off the faucet and the water stopped running. There was a heavenly instant of quietness, in which Jungkook followed the crystalline droplets falling from his hair to the sink, before Yoongi’s voice echoed behind him. “How you doin’, champ?” 
Jungkook sighed and raised his head, looking at his ghost counterpart through the dirty mirror. “Is the bathroom empty?” he asked calmly. 
“Hm? Yeah,” Yoongi said. “The ghost is clear.”
Just like that, his serenity was gone. “Yoongi, can you fucking stop? Your puns stopped being funny after the third attempt,” Jungkook asked, exasperated. He pulled some paper towels, and got even angrier at the way they fell apart in his hands. Good to know his college money was being used wisely. “Jesus. Where is Taehyung?”
“You know he hates toilet paper,” Yoongi told him. “Reminds him of his death.”
Jungkook considered the compelling idea of banging his head against the bathroom wall until he, himself, was part of the world of the dead. As he recalled very well, Taehyung had been a victim of Final-Destination-levels of misfortune: just because he had forgotten to take toilet paper to his camping trip, the boy had been forced to use nearby leaves. Those, as he would soon come to understand, caused an awful allergy on his lower lands, and the punctual bleeding was a sufficient opening for opportunistic diseases. The culprit? Some super strange bacteria that floated around the river. He was dead less than twenty hours after he came back home from septic shock.  
Taehyung had endured, quite frankly, one shitty death. And, yes, Yoongi had made that joke a few too many times before. 
“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook realized. “What did I tell you two about chit-chatting with me in large public places? Especially my classes? I have to pay attention. And I have a test in two days, I need to be all here, and not thinking about other people.” 
Yoongi giggled — almost childishly so — at the other’s anguished attitude. His teeth, a pallid shade of white, could barely be seen against the olive-green tiles that covered the bathroom walls. “You weren’t paying attention to the processes of intestinal inflammation, that’s for sure,” he teased, forcing himself to hold back his jokes a bit. 
“I wasn’t even studying that chapter,” Jungkook mumbled. 
Even Yoongi, who had a dense personality for such a diaphanous soul, could tell that the student was not in the mood for mockery. “Man, why are you so stuck-up? Taehyung and I are ghosts, but you’re the one with the dead sense of humor.”
Jungkook realized he needed a moment to think before he started yelling at nothing in a public bathroom. He really hoped the other stalls were empty, but he couldn’t be bothered to check. 
“This isn’t about the puns. You two just don’t respect my privacy,” Jungkook said. This time, he was able to pull some good paper towels and proceeded to dry his face. “This has been going on for too long. Why don’t you two just vanish for some time?”
“Wish I could, kiddo, but I’ve got hours to clock,” Yoongi finally admitted. From the mirror, he could see the frown of confusion that was cast over Jungkook’s features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only following rules. Talk to the big guy upstairs if you want to complain.”
He threw the paper on the trash and shook his head in confusion. “I just don’t see the point of any of this.” 
“You don’t have to.” Yoongi took a step closer. He often looked so unbothered — the two of them, actually — that Jungkook caught himself wondering which certainties they held, notions that would most likely be given after death. “Just do what we tell you to do.”
“That has only embarrassed me so far,” he said, turning around. “I don’t think I have it in me to trust in you two one more time. It has gotten me nowhere. Or, rather, nowhere good.”  
Yoongi sighed. “Alright, let’s do it like this, then: You go and help Y/N with her cardio whatever stuff, and Taehyung and I just watch. We promise to shut up, unless you’re doing something seriously embarrassing. Other than that, absolute silence.”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “You promise you two won’t tell me what to say?”
“Promise.” Yoongi nodded. He looked very sincere. “We won’t talk to you.” 
“I can live with that, yeah,” Jungkook agreed, leaning against the bathroom sink. “Sounds good.”
“Perfect.” He smiled. “Trust me, Jungkook. I only made one mistake in my life.”
Jungkook smirked. “And it killed you.”
“Not the point.” He raised one finger, clearly annoyed, then pointed it at Jungkook. “You’ll do great. It’s not like you’re gonna tell her about us or something.” 
He laughed. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 
________________
But that was, ultimately, what he did.
To be fair, it was never Jungkook’s intention. He was completely sure that it would ruin not only his friendship with you, as it would also ruin his reputation, both as a student and as a future physician. Come on, how would he even explain that? How could he tell anyone that he not only saw two obnoxious ghosts, but that they were there to give him romantic (and sometimes sexual) advice? That’s insanity. 
Spoiler: he didn’t explain it very well. 
In the cosmic perspective, however, it was kind of Yoongi’s fault too. He had the problem of giving away too much sometimes, especially when he was alone and free from Taehyung’s scrutiny. And it was that extra bit of information that catalyzed the explosion that would become Jungkook’s confession. 
For some reason or another, Taehyung hadn’t joined the two of them that day, as Jungkook crossed the campus towards your place. For the first time in a long time, their conversation — which was, again, masked by Jungkook pretending to be on the phone — was actually quite pleasant. Yoongi had told him a bit more about his life back in the day and explained that he was studying to become a lawyer when he died. 
“I was thinking of dropping out anyways,” he said. “I just picked a random thing to study because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And, well, I kind of did drop off. Just not from the course.” 
Jungkook could not help but laugh at the absurdness of it all. Sad coincidences aside, it was unusual for Yoongi to make jokes about his death. Taehyung was much more open about it, but Yoongi seemed to be very bitter because of the way and the time he passed. But of course, who was Jungkook to judge? 
“You know,” Yoongi started after a moment of quietude. “Taehyung and I were pretty surprised that day at the mall.”
Jungkook frowned. “Hm? Why is that?” 
The other man chuckled. “Honestly? Because you’re dumber than we thought.”
Seems like pleasant times didn’t last much between the two of them. “We’ve established that I can’t talk to girls, Yoongi, I know.” Jungkook really wanted to change the subject. 
“No, not that,” he denied. “Let’s go back a little. Remember what we told you in your bedroom that night? To get the physiology girl.”
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”
Yoongi laughed, amazed that Jungkook still didn’t get it. “You called the wrong one, idiot,” he explained. 
“What?” Jungkook paused in his tracks and, in a mindless reflex, forgot he was supposed to be talking on the phone, and looked directly at Yoongi, lowering the device away from his ear. “There is a right one?” 
“Hey, pay attention to your surroundings.” Yoongi pointed at a couple that also stopped, confused at the man’s actions. Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure after that minor instant of public humiliation, and placed the phone back against his ear. “Let’s keep walking.”
With his heart beating insanely fast against his chest, Jungkook did as he was told. His mind was flooded with fragmented thoughts, working around words that seemed so simple, yet held so much.
“Yes, there is a right one — and you’re going towards her right now.” Yoongi responded, placing his ghostly hands inside his ghostly pockets. Jungkook never noticed that he still used the clothes that he had on when he died, but Yoongi wouldn’t be the first one to mention. “So don’t make a fool out of yourself. Not this time.” 
Jungkook swallowed dry, feeling as panic started to climb up his lower limbs, weighing down on his muscles. His throat was dry as a desert and forming sentences proved to be a far more difficult task than he had anticipated. The air around campus had suddenly become hot for an autumn day, unable to enter his lungs with ease. He really was two steps away from a full-blown anxiety attack. 
Yoongi frowned. “You good?” 
Jungkook licked his lips, only half aware of his actions. “Y-Yeah,” he struggled to get out. “Just kind of a bomb that you just dropped on me, that’s all.” 
Yoongi nodded, uninterested. “Yeah. Get over it. It’s not a huge deal.” 
Only, it was. For Jungkook, at least. What if you two were… you know? Meant to be? Like the soulmates kind of thing; star-crossed lovers. Like in the “we got married after two months of dating and we are still together after sixty years” kind of insane love? That was a lot to process, a lot to think about, especially when he was having like three different crises at once. It was a recipe for a disaster. 
Jungkook really was dumb when it came to anything besides his textbooks, but not for jumping into those conclusions. Frankly, most people would’ve been a bit overwhelmed by that. 
No, his problem would reside on his next thought: If you two were meant to be, you would understand if, for some reason, he had to tell you about his ghosts, right? 
Right?
_______________
To be fair with Yoongi, he did keep his promise. The two didn’t interrupt your conversation once, even if sometimes the moment begged for it, and Jungkook was two words away from ruining everything. Strangely enough, things seemed to work themselves out — the horrible jokes that Jungkook uttered seemed to suit your sense of humor; the shy and nervous demeanor that plagued his dates slowly melted away. It was good — in fact, it was the best talk he’s had with someone in a long, long time. 
The issue was that, as much as the two of them didn’t talk directly to Jungkook, they still talked. 
“What was that thing that she said, you know, to her friends?” Yoongi mumbled, his words coming out as a vague connection of syllables being formed at the corner of his mouth. He had his arms crossed, and his legs pushed up on the couch. “You told me that.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung took a moment to think. He had one of his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his white pants, and the other on the back of the couch. The two of them watched the conversation that unfolded above your living room table, the two of you trying to make sense of a subject that seemed to change every five minutes. “It was like ‘homeboy can like, get it’... or something.” 
Yoongi nodded, satisfied. “Nice.” 
Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to ignore that comment. It wasn’t news that you were interested in him — that had been the only thing Yoongi and Taehyung had told him for the past few hours, but it was very, very awkward to know those specific details. He was sure he wouldn’t like you to know the private conversations that he had with his friends, even less about the things he thought about when he was alone. There was something extremely violating about that, but, no matter how hard he tried to convince them, the two ghosts didn’t seem to care enough to stop. 
The giggle that came from across the table ruptured his thoughts. “Why are you blushing?” You asked.
“I’m… uh…” he struggled, suddenly feeling the heat that emanated from his cheeks. Wonderful. Even when he was just thinking about something, he still managed to make a fool of himself. “Just… thinking about some embarrassing things I did in third grade. The usual.” 
“Yeah, I’ve been there.” You smiled, reaching for the textbook across the table, and flipping through the pages. “I ruined this entire science project once. It was something about the pollination of flowers, but I missed that class. Ended up coming back to a lot of roses around the classroom, and decided to take a few of them home to my mom.”
“Oh no.” 
“Yep,” you nodded, looking back at him. Jungkook thought that he had lost himself in your eyes for a moment, a depth so engulfing that he couldn’t find the right words once he stared at it. He had never noticed how beautiful you were — or, rather, he had, but he had never stopped to think about it — and, now, it seemed as if that was the only thing that he could focus on. “Everyone in class was super pissed, the teacher even tried to suspend me.”
He shook his head, trying to imagine a mini-you justifying your flower thievery in front of the principal. “That’s insane, actually.”
“Kind of.” You shrugged, looking back at the book. You weren’t sure what you were searching for anymore, so you decided to close it. You two had been studying for almost four hours straight, you didn’t think that your brain could handle any more of that. “They didn’t really believe me when I told them it was a mistake. Guess no one even noticed my absence the day before, which is… somehow… even worse, now that I think about it.” 
A giggle reverberated in your throat as you dove into those forgotten memories, and Jungkook followed you. 
“Don’t laugh at child me, that’s so cruel.” You smiled. 
“I’m not.” He shook his head. “I just thought you were cute. Still are, you never really stopped being cute, I mean. You’re actually really pretty now, like a woman—” 
“I got it.” You placed your hands over his, and the shock of your skin against his seemed to spread throughout his entire body. He didn’t know if that was a soulmate thing of if he was just really horny. Probably a bit of both. “Don’t worry about it. You’re pretty cute too. Like a man.”  
“Thanks.” Jungkook itched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words to build his sentence. Panic began bubbling at the bottom of his stomach, sinking its teeth into his flesh as his words left his throat. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” 
It was the right time now: the studying was over, the conversation was flowing, you had told him that you thought he was cute — like a man. Now, he just needed to ask you out. Just that. That’s it. Three words. He had practiced: Wanna go out? That’s it. So casual. So playboy-esque. He could do it. No pressure. If you were the one, he didn’t have much to get wrong. 
But, oh my god, what if he got everything wrong? I mean, how many stories are out there of couples who were destined for each other, but something happened and it pulled them apart forever? The wrong time, the wrong place — the wrong words. Jungkook wasn’t psychologically prepared to ruin something so huge with a moment so small. He needed to calm down and focus. Just get the words out. Everything would sort itself out after that. He had faith. 
“What is it?” You asked. 
Jungkook cleared his throat, his eyes still glued to the touch of your hand against his. Outside, birds were chirping, unaware of the absolute shitstorm that was about to ensue. “So…” he started, “I was thinking that maybe I could— I mean, you — I mean we could...”
You tilted your head to the side, confused. “Sorry, what was that?” 
He blinked once, twice, fighting against the wave of sheer terror that had taken over his brain, whitening out his thoughts. He had the sentence ready, but he had forgotten how to form it. “I’m just trying… I’m just trying here to just…” He swallowed dryly. “I was just wondering if you would like to… I mean, if it’s not a problem—”
From the other side of the room, Yoongi groaned. “Just do it! You’re making eternity so much longer.”
And that’s when it happened. 
Jungkook turned around and yelled: “You told me you wouldn’t talk, you asshole!”
The entire room froze. A horrible moment of bewildered reticence followed as  the realization crashed upon him like a gigantic wave. He couldn’t have just yelled at nothing in front of you, like an absolute madman, could he? 
Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand away from his. The lack of warmth was like a dagger being thrown directly into his heart. “Excuse me?”
Yep. He totally did that. 
“Not you!” He was quick to turn around — maybe a bit too quick, too intensely. Even with nervousness clouding his vision, Jungkook could still see the shadow of fear and confusion mingling amongst your features. He had ruined everything, and that was all that he could think about. “I’m just... personalizing my anxiety...”
“Are you... alright?” You spoke slowly, measuring his actions. Jungkook had changed from cute-nervous to absolutely-unhinged-nervous; eyes widened and jaw clenched; hands gripping the wooden chair like his life depended on it. Maybe that study session was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just googled an online class, like your best friend told you to. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 
Taehyung chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.” 
And, if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, Jungkook started to convince himself that perhaps it would be a good idea to come clean with you about his psychic abilities — maybe that was actually the only way that he could get out of that mess. If you were his soulmate, you’d understand. It’d all be okay. Yeah, maybe you’d be seriously creeped out for like the first twenty minutes, just like he had been, but eventually you’d understand what had happened. You two would laugh about it later, maybe when you were sixty, on your rocking chairs somewhere, staring lovingly at a cornfield. 
Was he losing it? Probably. But he didn’t have the right amount of mental clarity to fully think about the consequences of his actions in that moment. 
“I… did,” Jungkook spoke sluggishly, barely comprehending the trail of words that dripped from his tongue. His voice was much calmer, but he could still feel like his entire body was engulfed by flames. “I did... see a ghost. Two actually.” 
You frowned. This afternoon couldn’t possibly get any worse. “What are you talking about?” 
“Jungkook, don’t you dare,” Yoongi warned, but his voice seemed to come from miles away. 
Slowly, as if he wasn’t really aware of his own body moving, Jungkook adjusted his position on the chair, looking down at the sea of handwritten notes in front of him. He wished that human interaction was as easy as the types of pulmonary volumes, or perhaps the changes of oxygen inside the hemoglobin. That he knew. That he could deal with.
“Ok so, have you ever watched The Emperor’s New Groove?”
You blinked twice, puzzled. “What?”
“The Disney movie,” he clarified, looking up at you. 
You shook your head, measuring how long it would take for you to bolt out of the door and run away from your own apartment. Maybe you could get out and then call someone for help. You wished you had already taken Psychiatry. “I know what that is, Jungkook, but I just don’t understand where you’re getting at.”
“Maybe it’s in the TV series that came after the movie, I don’t know, but Kronk has these two little beings on his shoulders, a devil and an angel.” He cleared his throat, and looked back at the sheets of paper. It was so hard to stare at you now, when just seconds before, it had been so easy. “I kinda have the same thing, only, they’re dead people. You know, ghosts. And they’re not on my shoulders — that’d be pretty awful, actually.” 
Taehyung mumbled from across the room, “I really don’t think this is a good idea, Jungkook.” 
“You’re making no sense right now,” you said, worried about the effect that your words could have on him. “I think… I think it would be better if you left.” 
“I can see dead people, okay?” Jungkook interrupted, exasperated. You had to understand. You were the right girl from physiology class, you had to understand. 
“Okay, Sixth Sense.” You laughed nervously. Bad time for a joke, you thought, but the boy barely seemed to process it. “Listen, I can tell you’re not doing very well right now, so you should probably leave, maybe clear your head a bit. You already helped me a lot—”
“No, I don’t need that. My head is clear—”
“You know, there is a very good mental health clinic in campus, I’ve gone there already, and I think—” 
“No! I don’t need mental health, it’s true!” Jungkook stood up, walking towards the couch, where the two dead men sat. There was an unspoken contest in the room to see who could be more flabbergasted at the boy’s actions, and you and Yoongi were in a close tie. “I can prove it.” 
You almost choked on air. “You what?” 
Jungkook pointed at nothing. “They’re here right now, I can prove it to you.”
Discombobulated, you shook your head one more time. Maybe if you did that enough, your chaotic thoughts would just fall out of your ears, and everything would be much clearer. Maybe that was a prank, maybe that was a full-blown psychotic breakdown. You just didn’t really know what to do from there. “Jungkook, I don’t think—” 
“Come on, just show yourself to her!” He yelled into the air, more specifically at your white couch. You just wanted to study cardiology, how did it end up like this? “Give me a sign, I don’t know.”
Yoongi chuckled, completely amazed by the way Jungkook continuously broke the Dumb Records that he had previously set himself. No bonus in heaven would be worth dealing with Mr. Smooth Brain over there. He should’ve gone for the orphans instead. “I cannot believe you right now.” He stood up from the couch and sighed, utterly defeated. Maybe he could just get it over with, and then The Big Man Upstairs would show him a bit of mercy. “But I guess now there isn’t much to lose. I’m only doing this because at least it would make this situation a bit better.” 
“How?” Taehyung asked. 
“There’s a slight improvement between psychotic crisis and psychic abilities,” Yoongi responded. He walked towards the window, rolled his eyes at the pathetic presentation of supernatural phenomena, and pulled on the white curtains of your living room. “Here. Boo! Paranormal activity.” 
“Did you see that?” Jungkook asked, excited. 
However, instead of meeting a surprised gaze, he only saw panic and preoccupation swimming inside your eyes. “The curtain moving? Yeah. That was the wind, Jungkook.” You stood up from the chair, measuring your chances at escaping. He was getting more and more erratic, and you didn’t know where the situation could escalate to next. “You’re seriously freaking me out right now. You’re being really aggressive about this.” 
“Yoongi, you’re worse than the spirits in Ghost Hunters,” Taehyung groaned, reappearing next to your living room table. “You have to be bold, that’s what I always say. Make a statement.”
Taehyung’s statement, of course, had been the biggest slap against a lamp that Jungkook had ever witnessed in his life. The ghosts had once told him that it took them a huge amount of concentrated energy to do something as little as move a napkin, so there was no way that Taehyung wouldn’t be exhausted after making that heavy piece of furniture fly against the wall, shattering into a million little pieces with a loud noise. 
“What the fuck?” Jungkook asked. “That was so dangerous! She could’ve gotten hurt.”
He shrugged. “You asked.” 
“What the fuck was that?” You yelled, taking your hands to your face. Was that shared hysteria? What did you just see? Maybe you were the one who needed fresh air and a shrink visit. “You’re pranking me, right? You have like a nylon string wrapped around your hands or something.”
Jungkook moved his head in denial, raising his hands up in a sigh of defeat. “I swear to God, it’s true.” 
“I don’t… I don’t believe you,” you said, clearly terrified. Not at the idea of ghosts, Jungkook realized, but of him. That date surely couldn’t have gone any better. 
Yoongi sighed and materialized behind Jungkook. Lost causes, Yoongi was surrounded by lost causes. “If you really want her to believe you, tell her we can say some stuff about her, but it’ll probably freak her out.”
“They are saying that they can convince you by saying some stuff about you.” Jungkook swallowed dry. Something inside him was screaming for him to just shut the fuck up and leave your building. If there was something he learned by being with the two undead pricks, is that they could always make a situation worse. 
But desperate times require desperate measures. 
You adjusted your posture. Trepidation was still very present in your face, but there was also a small spark of interest swimming somewhere inside your eyes. “I seriously doubt that.” 
“I can show you,” he said. “Just… don’t freak out.”
“Fine.” You licked your lips in anticipation. “The name of my first pet.”
“Is this a password verification?” Yoongi groaned. He just wanted to watch Twitches later that day, but Jungkook just had to start a seance in someone else’s room. Again: the orphans would never. “Fine. It was Mr. Green, a tortoise she killed by leaving to dry in the asphalt.” 
“It was a tortoise, Mr. Green. You left it on the asphalt and it died,” Jugkook repeated without hesitation. 
You blinked twice, taking in the answer. “This is so fucking weird. How did you know that?”
“Yoongi told me.” Jungkook pointed over his shoulder, where Yoongi stared you down. Just by looking in that direction, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You were losing it. “He’s, you know, one of the ghosts.” 
“I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.” You placed one hand against the chair, leaning against it. There was no use to keep that conversation going, and you both knew it — and yet, just like a politician lying, it just didn’t stop. “But you could’ve asked anyone that.”
It was Jungkook’s turn to become completely lost. “Why would I ask such a specific question? I don’t even know your friends.” 
Behind him, he heard another loud groan. “I’m so done with this.” Yoongi placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk, Jungkook.” 
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asked.
Yoongi snorted. “We are all out of good ideas. But I think this is the best chance you’ve got.”
“Who are you talking to?” You almost yelled. 
Jungkook looked back at you and, for some reason, the preoccupation in his eyes scared you even further. “Okay, this is going to be really weird, alright? But it’s not gonna be me talking.”
“What?” 
“It’s like… a kind of possession,” he explained, gesticulating a bit more than socially acceptable. “It’s like… uh… One of them is going to use my mouth for a bit. Talk through me.” 
You laughed, and there was a high-pitched sort of timbre to it. That might as well happen. “Sure, of course. What else? Exorcism live?” You asked. 
“Just give me the permission,” Yoongi commanded. 
Jungkook took in a deep breath, and clenched his hands into fists. He hated that part. “Fine,” he consented. 
Gradually, the muscles around his mouth and throat grew numb, as if Jungkook had entered a dream, and his body was responding in autopilot. There was an awful pressure on his shoulders and a ringing in his ears as Yoongi accommodated himself around his body, reaching for control. That was the closest he would ever feel to being a ventriloquist’s puppet, and it was as bad as it could be. 
Yoongi spoke through him with ease: “You told your friends last week that you didn’t care if Jungkook was a shy virgin who played minecraft because he was exactly your type. You also said that your average score in physiology is ninety-seven percent and you didn’t need any help. You just needed an excuse to stay with him. Happy?” 
Jungkook inhaled sharply as the pressure on his body subsided, the numb sensation around his neck growing thinner by the second. “So violating,” he complained. 
“How did you know that?” Your voice shook him back to reality. Both of you were reaching new levels of terror every minute. “Are you stalking me?”
That back and forth was starting to get exhausting. “That wasn’t me. That was Yoongi,” he tried once again. He was starting to think that the whole thing had been a bad idea. 
“Well, fuck you, Yoongi,” you spat. 
Yoongi scoffed. “Fuck you too, princess. Maybe you really don’t deserve this man.”
“I’m not saying that,” Jungkook whispered to him, then turned back to look at you. He wanted to hug you and magically erase your memories for that afternoon, but, in reality, he couldn’t even move his legs without feeling like he could fall face-down on the floor. He really, really, really hated possession. “I’m just… I’m sorry about that.” 
“About what, Danny Phantom?” You asked, throwing your hands up in an exasperated gesture. And there it was: from panic to complete fury. That was all that you two needed at that moment. “About making me scared shitless, or about exposing me like this?” 
He suspired. “Do you at least believe in me now?” 
“Does it look like I believe in you, Jungkook?” You practically screamed. Truth was: neither of you knew that for sure. “I’m a woman of science, you can’t expect me to believe that—”
Taehyung groaned, walking closer to Jungkook. It must’ve been a world record how quickly everyone in that room got angry. “Let me talk,” he requested. 
Jungkook sighed, defeated. How much worse could it possibly get? “Go ahead,” he said.
There it was again: the feeling of being under anesthesia, the weight of an entire other being pressed down against his shoulders. Good times. “Yesterday,” he started, “you masturbated to the thought of Jungkook, but you forgot to recharge your vibrator so you had to use your fingers and you complained the entire time. Explain that, science woman.”
Another deep gasp, and Jungkook was folding over, finding balance on his knees. He really felt like he couldn’t even think straight anymore, his mind covered by a thick fog. 
You didn’t seem to be in a much different situation either. “I’m… gonna pass out.” 
“That was so unnecessary, Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered. His mouth was terribly dry, and his hands were shaking. “You guys really don’t know your limits.” 
“Taehyung? Who the fuck is that?” You screamed. 
Taehyung crossed his arms. “Hey, at least she believes you now.”
“He’s the other ghost. The one with no sense of boundaries.” Jungkook stared at Taehyung, clearly pissed off. Maybe his voice would’ve come out a bit more forceful if he didn’t get thrown around by sadistic spirits. “I’m sorry about that.” 
You shook your head, dumbfounded. “I need you to leave now. And take your ghosts with you.” You leaned over the table, and grabbed his notes, shoving them into a messy pile. Not that you were super worried about the integrity of the paper at a time like that. “This has really crossed like... every line.” 
Jungkook licked his lips, trying to find the right words to say. Someway, he managed to get his legs firm enough so he could start walking in your direction. “Please, I didn’t mean to—” 
You shoved the pile of notes into his backpack, and then the backpack into his hands. Before he could react, you grabbed him by the arm, guiding him towards the exit. “Thanks for helping me, Jungkook.” The door opened with a forceful pull, and you shoved him into the hall. “Never speak to me again. Bye.” 
The bang of the door slamming shut was horribly loud, reverberating inside Jungkook’s chest for a moment longer. Now that the possession daze was starting to move away from his body, the boy could feel the traces of panic crawling inside him. 
Jungkook dropped his backpack to the ground, and started knocking on your door. “Y/N, please!” He called. “I’m so sorry about everything. You have to believe me!” 
Your yell came muffled from the other side of the door. “Go away!” you screamed. “Or I’m calling the cops!”
Defeated, he closed his eyes and placed his forehead against the wood. Now that the situation had already climaxed, the absurdity of it all was starting to become much more palpable. 
How could Jungkook be so stupid? How could he think that you would act normally as you were exposed to the supernatural world? Especially in such distressing, violating ways. Even if you were his meant-to-be, his forever person, it would be ridiculous to believe that anyone would take all  in that with ease. He really outdid himself that time. 
“Let her be, you two can talk another time,”  Yoongi spoke, leaning against the wall. It was possible to see all the places that the pain was starting to crack through his semi-translucent form. “Good attempt, though. I’d give you a star for trying.” 
“This is not funny,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away from the door so you couldn’t hear him. The artificial lights above his head were sharp, buzzing mockingly. “You two keep saying that you’re here to help me, but you keep making stuff like this happen. If she really did like me, you just ruined everything.”
Yoongi raised one eyebrow. “Why do you care so much about that one?”
Jungkook glanced at him. “You told me she’s the one.”
He frowned, crossing his arms. “I told you she was the right girl from physiology class, not that you two were going to die holding hands or something,” Yoongi told him. “You filled the blanks yourself.”
“That’s why we don’t give away all those details,” Taehyung scolded Yoongi, looking at him up and down. Jungkook had never seen him so irritated before — at least not about serious things. “You know we could get in real big trouble if someone heard about that. Which, correct me if I’m wrong, it’s kind of the entire deal of heaven to know about stuff.” 
“I know, I know,” Yoongi groaned, disregarding his preoccupations. Maybe Taehyung didn’t understand his galaxy-brain plan yet, but he was sure that the heavens would. Or at least he hoped so. “But I think there’s something else that we need to focus on. Jungkook wouldn’t care this much about the other girls he dated, even if it was meant to be.” 
“Why are you two talking like I’m not here?” Jungkook asked, annoyed. 
“Why are you talking to yourself like you’re not in a corridor of an apartment building?” Yoongi threw back. Without a second of hesitation, Jungkook picked up his backpack and turned on his heels, walking down the hall, completely done with them. “Hey, come back. Just tell me what’s the fuzz with this one.” 
He didn’t look back. “Aren’t you two supposed to know? All-knowing and shit.” 
“We want to hear it from you,” Yoongi pressed on. 
Jungkook opened the heavy door to the stairwell, allowing for it to hit behind him. Taehyung and Yoongi passed right through it, of course, and kept following him as he quickly moved down the concrete steps. “Y/N is my friend.”
Yoongi hummed. “Go on.”
“Isn’t that enough for a justification? What else do you want from me?” He inquired, aggressive. The sound of his steps echoed like drums through the expansion of the staircase, and he hoped that no one else had been listening to his apparent monologue. “I don’t wanna ruin this friendship by talking about her masturbation techniques, I don’t know if that makes the situation super unique.” 
Taehyung clicked his tongue. “You have other friends.” 
“I care for her, alright?” Jungkook turned around abruptly, making the two ghosts stop in their tracks. Taehyung had almost lost his balance, but it wasn’t as if that could have any serious consequences for him. 
Jungkook sighed, trying to control the anger that had built up so rapidly, and continued speaking. “I care for her more than other friends. Fuck, is that what you two wanted to hear? Besides, it’s not like I know anyone better than her.  I didn’t even think I had a chance with someone like that until you told me. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s like… super hot when she’s mad—”
“Oh, would you look at that.” Yoongi grinned, satisfied. “Jungkook’s whipped.”
“What?” His eyes widened. “I’m not.”
“Why are you so red?” Taehyung asked.
Jungkook covered his face, feeling the heat of his checks emanating against his palms. “I’m not!”
“Okay, okay, calm down, tiger,” Yoongi raised his hands in a silent request for forgiveness.  They were still a few steps above Jungkook, and the whole scene looked like something straight out of the Book of Revelation. “This is a good thing, we actually thought it would never happen. It’s not like you’ve been this introspective in what… five years? More even.” 
He narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Yoongi sighed, and looked at Taehyung for confirmation. The other ghost nodded in a silent agreement, and Yoongi started to speak. “Listen, we’re here to help you, but we didn’t say everything,” he admitted. “We couldn’t, really, otherwise it wouldn’t be so... organic.”
“What?” 
“Jungkook, you were desperate to lose your virginity,” Yoongi explained. “You still are, in a way. And that’s not a good thing, because you’ll get the first thing that moves and you’ll try to stick your dick in it.”
Taehyung chuckled drily, looking at a fixed point. “Which is not a good idea, believe me,” he spoke in a mumble, and Jungkook could not help but think that his advice came from personal experience. That, of course, was a story for other, less sober times. 
“Is that why the two of you always interrupt me?” He asked, a bit offended. “Because those girls weren’t right for me? Like this is a purity cult or something?” 
“Eh.” Yoongi did a so-so gesture with his hand. “Kind of. Not really. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you actually feel something for this girl, something beyond the thoughts that come from your lower head.”
“And she feels something for you too, even after that trainwreck that we just witnessed in there,” Taehyung added patiently. “Which will help us a lot in the long run.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Jungkook crossed his arms, stubborn. He really could look and sound like a child throwing a tantrum when he wanted to. “I still don’t get it. It wasn’t your place to tell me who I could or couldn’t be with, it’s not as if you guys are—” 
“Jungkook, that’s enough,” Taehyung interrupted him. “You don’t think it makes sense? Stop and think for once in your life.” 
He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?” 
Taehyung glanced at him. “Listen, we just saved you from months of wrong dates and wrong nights. We pushed away people who didn’t really care about you, who just wanted you to use you, or who would end up cheating on you anyways. Not everyone gets this privilege,” he said, completely done with that victim mentality. “So, for once in your life, be grateful. Be grateful for the bad dates,  the embarrassment, the times that it didn’t work out. And, look, we are sorry for the way they had to go down, it wasn’t as funny as it seemed from our perspective. But if you didn’t have those bad dates, you’d have very, very bad months following them. So you’re welcome.” 
“And all those bad dates lead you to the right person,” Yoongi completed, watching as Jungkook’s expression withered into shame. He was staring to get it — they could almost see the hamster in his brain start running. “Now, listen, we don’t know if this is the for-life situation, that’s not the kind of information we have, alright? Do I look like a seraphin to you? No. But does it matter?  No. Most relationships aren’t the for-life thing anyways, but they are here to teach you something. And if the afterlife thought that there was something good for you here, who are we to judge?” 
“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed. “Now, can you  please forget about all those past people and just focus on her? Maybe shut the fuck up while you do that? I get that you wanted to get your dick wet, but there’s a time and a place for that.” 
The boy sighed, and leaned against the red handrails. It took Jungkook a few seconds to speak out. “I feel like I’ve just been lectured by my parents,” he admitted. 
Taehyung relaxed his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to slap some sense into you for months now, but I didn’t really have the permission.” 
“Feel better?” Jungkook asked.
He nodded. “Much better.”
“I’m happy for you,” he said. Jungkook ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing back the strands that had fallen over his eyes. “And about Y/N… There’s no way she’ll ever talk to me after this mess. I ruined everything.”
Taehyung nodded. “You pretty much did, yeah.” 
“You took the worst case scenario and managed to make it even more horrible,” Yoongi said. “It’s pretty impressive, actually.” 
“Thanks, that’s great.” Jungkook chuckled, humorless. He could always count on them for emotional support. “But, I mean… What do I do now? I mean, is there anything that we could do to save this?” 
“Worry not, my child,” Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms. “Taehyung and I are masters of seduction, and we’re here to help you. Just trust us.” 
“And before you say something,” Taehyung interrupted, raising one finger. “You never had the right girl before, so we weren’t really trying. I think we can find some real solid ground here.” 
Jungkook breathed out, and looked down at the grey stairs. Yeah, it’s not like he wasn’t at the bottom of the well already. “Fine. One last chance,” he agreed, looking back at the ghosts. “Just tell me what I have to do.”
______________
Much to Jungkook’s delight, he didn’t need to muster up the courage to talk to you, because you did that first. 
For the first time in their lives (and deaths), Yoongi and Taehyung actually did something right. Jungkook didn’t really know the details of their plan, all that he knew was that they would find a way to “make you see what you were missing” so that you would “come crawling back to him”. Which didn’t sound threatening at all.
 Countless possibilities crossed Jungkook’s head — horror movie hauntings, Taehyung invading your dreams with claws for fingers, Yoongi with a wet wig crawling out of your TV — but, in the end, no matter how much he insisted, the two of them just wouldn’t say a word. Apparently, there was a lot going on backstage that Jungkook had no idea about, so he should just “take it easy” and wait for the sequence of events to unravel. Amazing. Now he knew how the characters in Final Destination felt. 
“Just be patient, young one,” Taehyung had told him, thrown over his couch like a Victorian monarch. “All you need to know is that she will be back. Everything else it’s just… details.” 
And, two weeks after the dormitory incident, you did. 
There was a muffled thud as you placed your large books over the wooden table, and sat down across from him. The silence of the library didn’t allow for Jungkook to foresee your arrival, and to meet your gaze so suddenly was enough for his face to burn up in shame, his heart drumming against his ribcage. His sympathetic system really needed to quit with that bullshit before he collapsed. 
“Hey,” you mumbled, seeming just as uncomfortable as he was. “Can we talk? You know what about.”
The boy swallowed dry, and leaned a bit forward. “Y-Yeah, sure,” he whispered back. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I don’t know why I thought—”
“For how long?” you sliced his sentence short, making his lips fall shut. 
Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”
You cleared your throat, and shuffled on your seat. As much as the library was practically empty, neither of you felt courageous enough to use your usual voice tone — especially when dealing with that subject. “How long have you been able to, you know, see them?”
Jungkook took a second to respond, licking his dry lips and looking at the line of bookshelves as if seeking for the right thing to say. He felt awkward enough just interacting with someone from the opposite sex, but talking about the ghosts he saw? Hell, that bordered on a panic attack. Especially after the circus show that was that past study session. “Almost two years now, I think,” he finally answered. “But they told me they’ve been around for a bit longer. I just couldn’t see it.” 
You shook your head in concordance, even if the information was everything but easy to understand. “That’s crazy,” you spoke. “I don’t know how you deal with it.” 
Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “Not very well, as you can probably tell.” 
 “I don’t think I can judge you. I didn’t precisely react well either.” You swallowed dry, wide eyes flickering on the world behind Jungkook. “Are we alone now?”
As much as he already knew the answer, he looked around just to check. “Surprisingly, yeah,” Jungkook responded, slightly suspicious. Yoongi and Taehyung were always looking over his shoulder and throwing him into messy situations, he couldn’t tell why they weren’t there when, quite frankly, it was their perfect shot at humiliation. Maybe they really were doing their jobs for once. “I don’t know why they’re not here. That’s weird.”
You shrugged as if to say that you wouldn’t know either. “What are their names again?”
“Yoongi and Taehyung,” he answered, then waited another second to see if he could feel their presence. Nothing again. That was really strange — they often responded upon being called. “Listen, Y/N, I hate what we went through. They had no right to say those things. I’m used to the privacy issues, since I have been with them for a while. But you aren’t, and I can only imagine how weird you felt hearing all that. I’m really, really sorry.”
You pressed your lips together which, Jungkook guessed, was a failed attempt to suppress the rubor that exploded across your cheeks. He couldn’t blame you, though, for there were limits that were crossed. “I’m over it if you are,” was what you forced yourself to say. 
“I am,” he lied. None of you were particularly good at not telling the truth, and that was pretty obvious. But ignoring it was a start. 
“Good, okay.” You cleared your throat, placing the palms of your hands against the pile of books. “Sorry for lying about needing help in physiology, and all that. I just needed an excuse to spend more time with you, as you know now. I guess it’s obvious that I kinda have a huge crush on you.”
“It’s fine.” Jungkook laughed, extremely relieved to notice that your last sentence was in present tense. “I kinda have a huge crush on you too.” 
Honestly, even if it wasn’t for life, he’d have to give you props for still liking a guy that had had a borderline psychotic breakdown in your apartment, talked about your pet tortoise, and your masturbation technique, and still had the nerve to expose you to the supernatural world. It was a lot. Good on you for taking it like a champ. 
“And,” he continued, “sorry for using my ghosts to expose your secrets. I just needed to find a way for you to believe me, and I had no idea about what they were going to say. I was pretty much in a frenzied state, I wasn’t thinking straight. It won’t happen again.” 
“Apologies accepted.” You smiled, relieved. You were really beautiful, Jungkook thought in a breathless instant. He could look at you all day. “You know, it’s going to take me some time to get used to all that. I mean, I’m still not a hundred percent sure I believe in everything, but, I… My lamp flew across the room, and you told me things that you simply couldn’t know about. So, if it’s a prank, it’s a really good one.”
“I know how it is.” He nodded in agreement. “It was really difficult for me at first, too. I understand if you’d rather just stay away from me from now on.” 
You sighed, looking down at your books —  the two mammoth-sized volumes of Harrison’s Internal Medicine staring at you in mockery. “Weird thing is: I don’t really want to.” You crossed your arms and leaned back against the chair. Was that the sound of angels singing? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I’d love to spend more time with you. Alone, if possible. And that counts both planes of existence.” 
“Sounds fair, I’d love that.” Jungkook smiled. As he met your eyes, he was filled with a  warm, rose-colored courage that he had never felt before. “Actually, I was wondering if, you know… you wanna do something? With me? Alone, of course. No ghosts. One of these days, I don’t know. If you’re not busy—”
You raised your eyebrows, interested. “You’re asking me out?”
He sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. “Trying, yeah. You can see I’m not the best at that either.”
Your smile grew a little. “That’s a big yes.”
“Really?” Jungkook stared at you like a lost puppy, his mind going completely blank for a second or two. The hamster in his brain was now somersaulting through his body, landing on his stomach and hitting him with a wave of nausea. “Wow, thanks. I don’t really have an idea of what we could do, though. Didn’t think I’d get that far.”
There was an instant of quietude as you thought for a moment, the space between the two of you permeated by the vague sounds of pages turning. “Movies?” You asked. 
“Sounds great.” Jungkook smiled openly, his shoulders falling in alleviation. He didn’t know what Taehyung and Yoongi had done, but he was beyond thankful for it. Seemed like their sacrifices weren’t in vain, after all. “The film majors are doing this 2000’s marathon this week. I think this Saturday it’ll be either Mean Girls or 17 Again.”
“I’m in,” you spoke excitedly. “I’ll be there, just text me the details.”
Jungkook almost swallowed his own tongue as he watched you stand up, presenting him with a gorgeous view of thighs beneath the level of your skirt. “Great!” He exclaimed a bit too loud, his voice a bit too high-pitched, awakening his inner thirteen-year-old. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice another octave. “I mean, yeah, great. Thank you for… saying yes.”
“Thank you for asking.” You placed your hair behind your shoulder, and leaned in to pick up the heavy pile of books. All nine kilos of Internal Medicine. 
“See you there,” he said. 
You smiled. “See you, Kookie.” 
Jungkook watched you walk away as if he was floating in a fever dream, completely unable to believe what had just unfolded. Did he seriously manage to get a date with you? Of all people? He must’ve been hallucinating. Maybe he ended up falling down the stairwell and died, perhaps that was his heaven, and he would— 
Behind him, Taehyung sneered. “Kookie? You’re getting softer than your dick.” 
Jungkook turned around so brusquely that the chair tilted back and, if it wasn’t for him holding down to the corner of the table, he would’ve fallen to the ground. “You two were there all along?” He whispered-screamed. Before he could land a sermon on them, though, he met the devilish smirk that was plastered all over Yoongi’s features. Oh no. No. The movies. “No, Yoongi, I know what you’re thinki—”
“Get in, loser, we’re going to the movies.” 
_________________
Saturday rolled around and, with it, came your much anticipated movie date. Jungkook had spent the previous night tossing and turning on his bed, completely monopolized by anxiety, thinking about every possible apocalyptic scenario that could go down. What if he tried to take a slip of his drink, but ended up blinding himself with the straw? Maybe he would step on the wrong chord and set the entire college on fire. Or maybe he would trip, fall down on a poor girl, and kill her on the spot. That would be awful, you would never talk to him again after any of that — the imaginary disappointment in your face was like a punch in the gut. 
Was he being ridiculous? Obviously. Did that stop his pre-date panic? Obviously not. 
Still, with the might of a thousand warriors, Jungkook managed to drag himself to your date, his knees almost giving out beneath him when he saw you — he didn’t believe you would actually come, for some of him still thought it was all a sadistic heaven prank. Somehow, he blurted out a compliment about how good you looked while he was having a heart attack, and almost lost his consciousness when you smiled at him. 
Yep, it would be a difficult night. 
The movie marathon consisted of three 2000’s movies, and the two of you managed to arrive right before Mean Girls started, fumbling on your seats as the rest of the room grew quiet. The makeshift classroom didn’t look like a movie theater in the slightest, but it wasn’t as if you were expecting that in the first place — it was nothing more than an agglomeration of chairs and desks, combined with a few puff chairs and old couches scattered around. Much to your delight, you and Jungkook managed to grab one of those couches before another couple returned to their seats, and he could see that his ghost buddies had already found their own place on the empty chairs behind the two of you. 
Surprise! None of the catastrophic scenarios in his mind actually came true. In fact, he had a great time with you, laughing at your jokes and sometimes flat-out stealing Yoongi’s commentary just to make you chuckle, which granted him a few mumbled complaints coming from the back row. 
“Jungkook is so superior, don’t you think, Taehyung?” Yoongi mocked, and Jungkook was sure that he would be kicking his seat if he could. “So smart. So great. But can’t even figure out his own jokes. Has to steal them from a poor dead man. You’re a grave robber.” 
Taehyung chuckled. “Hey, you’re helping him, at least. That’s our whole point here.”
“Grave robber!” he repeated, more aggressively this time. “I can’t believe you’d ruin Mean Girls for me like this. Not even hell would be so cruel.” 
“How dare you say that about hell? If I get in trouble because you can’t keep your mouth shut, Yoongi, I swear to God—”
“Now you’re saying God’s name in vain, you heretic! That’s so much worse!” 
Jungkook had to bite back a laugh as the two continued bickering behind him, only half aware of the scene in which Regina George glued her own picture on the burn book. He didn’t know when exactly he had done it — he had been so on edge the entire night that it was almost as if his own brain was instantly deleting his memories, but he had managed to curl one arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He was sure that you could hear the frantic heartbeat of his heart against his chest, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t think he could even get that far. 
But he did, and even reached beyond that. 
Once the screen faded to black and the credits started appearing, there was a resounding wave of claps in the room, cheering for the absolute cultural reset that was that movie. One of the students moved to the front of the room, explaining that they would take a ten minutes break, then would return with She’s All That. Apparently, 1999 was close enough to the 2000’s for it to be picked as well. 
“Do you wanna stay and watch it?” He asked, fighting every muscle in his body not to smell your hair. He knew that it would be super creepy, yeah, but your head was right there and it smelled so good. 
You removed your body from his chest, looking up at him. “I would love to, but I have to wake up early tomorrow to study,” you said. “Big test on Monday.” 
“Sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, slightly let down. To be honest, he had completely forgotten that information until that point. Seems like he would have a lot to catch up on during the next day. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 
You thanked him with a smile, and you two got moving. 
The walk back to your place wasn’t exactly awkward, but it could have also been a lot better. The two of you talked about the movie animatedly, the subject that you had to study — an awful amount of gastric pathology to memorize — and, eventually, landed on your weirdest experiences during hospital rounds. You were in the middle of telling him how two toddlers (twins) managed to puke on you at the same time, and how you thought that was a sign of a telepathic connection between the two, when he felt the back of his hand brush against yours, and everything around him turned into static. Suddenly, it was all that he could think about. 
Jungkook had already spent the entire date with questions flying around his head. When was the right time to pull you close? Could he hold your hand, or would that be too bold? Could you smell how sweaty he was? Or maybe his deodorant was too strong? If he ran away, trained to be an astronaut, and joined the Mars colonization mission, would he be able to avoid embarrassing himself again? 
And, more importantly: would it be weird to kiss you goodnight? 
Considering the fact that he had no clue how to read your body language, and that almost all of his romantic experience came from bad sitcoms and Twilight marathons with Yoongi, Jungkook didn’t judge himself suited to answer that last question. He didn’t know if he should hold your hand, he didn’t know if you were just being polite or if you actually had a good time. Again and again, his anxiety got the best of him. He should really get back to seeing his campus counselor. 
“So… we’re here,” you said, holding your hands in front of your body. You had stopped at the entrance of your block, and Jungkook took that as a sign that you didn’t want him to go all the way back to your apartment. Fair enough. “Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. We should do this again sometimes.” 
“For sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, somewhat relieved that you asked for that. At least that was a clear sign that you didn’t completely hate him. “That would be great.” 
You agreed and looked down at your shoes. The darkness of the night enveloped the two of you, only half of your features illuminated by the dim yellow shine of the nearest light post. Jungkook almost fainted when you stared into his eyes, with a faint blush painting your cheeks, and questioned, “So, you’re not gonna kiss me?” 
Windows’ blue screen. Please, hold.
 “I… I, uh—” Jungkook’s mouth felt as if he had just swallowed an entire desert, his brain fighting to keep his voice steady. Your eyes, so focused and expectant, felt like daggers against his chest. “I didn’t know if you wanted to,” he finally admitted. 
Your shoulders fell as a tender smile curled up on your roseate lips. Jungkook thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. “I do,” you told him gently. His heart almost leaped out of his throat. “Do you want to?” 
And that was the easiest question that he would ever answer. “Yeah,” Jungkook said. 
You smiled. “Perfect.” 
The boy barely had time to react before your hand was curling around the fabric of his shirt, and you pulled him towards you in a playful tug. Jungkook’s eyes stayed comically widened for a second after your lips met, but, soon enough, he allowed himself to melt into your embrace, his nervous hands landing on your waist, and his mind instantly calming down. 
He kissed you slowly, carefully, almost afraid that, at the faintest of movements, reality would shatter and he would lose that moment forever. Of course, it didn’t, and he stayed on that instant a bit longer before, at last, he pulled away, slightly breathless. 
“I should’ve done that sooner,” he confessed. 
You tilted your head at him, fingers playing with his hair. “It happened at the right time,” you said. “Some things can’t be rushed. Especially the good ones.” 
Just like that, he understood what Taehyung and Yoongi had been saying all those years. No matter how cliche it was, there was some truth to the saying that ‘what is supposed to happen, will’. And, the better that something is, the more work it will require. 
But, as he kissed you again, Jungkook realized that it was all worth it in the end.
____________
The following months by your side were so amazing that Jungkook constantly brought back his theory that “maybe he was actually dead, and that was heaven.” And, if it was, he would make sure to shake God’s hand himself because, holy fuck, was he one lucky man. 
Okay, maybe the first few weeks together were a bit painfully cringe-worthy, but he was really trying to pretend as if they didn’t happen. Jungkook didn’t really get the memo, and he had to slowly figure out how to behave romantically with you. He got it wrong the first few times — kissing you at the worst possible moment, or sending you a huge bouquet of roses during your microbiology exam — but, eventually, you guided him towards more neutral grounds. Then everything went smoothly. 
Surprisingly, even the undead duo calmed down for a while. Yoongi and Taehyung were still around, since they had no other option, but were much quieter now, only making punctual remarks when Jungkook made a fool out of himself. Hell, they even left the room when things started getting more serious between the two of you, instead of giving Cosmopolitan-worthy advice, and that was a huge improvement. 
But, of course, it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s life if there wasn’t a huge joke waiting just around the corner. Soon enough, another issue would present itself. 
It came in the form of a warm mumble against his lips, and the vague — yet deliciously noticeable — rolling of your hips against his own. “Jungkook,” you called, breathless after a long make-out session. The two of you were on his couch, with you sitting on his lap, straddling him. “I want you.” 
He froze. What else would he do? Jungkook was a panicked virgin. He knew that your intimate times would happen eventually — and he really wanted them to — but he didn’t expect that his mind would completely malfunction once he got so close, with his erection growing inside his pants and the softness of your breasts pressing against his torso. It was just a lot, alright? 
And, lost amidst the tempestuous sea of his sudden despair, all that he could utter back was, “Are… Are you sure you want to do this right now?” 
“Yeah.” You placed a strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook thought that he could faint on the spot. It was actually a pretty common sensation with him. “You don’t want it?”
“No — I mean yeah! Yeah, I want it.” He choked on his words, looking down in embarrassment, only to meet the contour of your thighs. His youth leader had been right all along: temptation was everywhere. “I’m just… I’ve never done anything before.” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down, placing your hands on his shoulders. The heat of your palms seemed to have some effect on the chaotic emotions that boiled inside him, for his muscles relaxed considerably under your touch. “I won’t pressure you, okay? If you want to take more time, it’s completely fine.” 
“No, it’s not like that. I don’t feel pressured.” He shook his head, then looked up at you. You could almost feel the conflict inside his gaze, the mixture of anticipation and fear that you knew all too well. “I want you, Y/N, I really do. I’m just nervous.”
“It’s fine,” you repeated. “We don’t have to do anything now, and we can start slo—”
But he couldn’t listen to the end of your phrase, because a familiar voice damn near hollered from the other side of the room. “Taehyung, come in here! Quick!” Yoongi yelled, signaling through the door like he was controlling the air traffic. “He’s getting some! Jungkook’s about to get his cherry popped the fuck off!” 
You tilted your head to the side, staring him down with preoccupation. “Jungkook? Are you okay?”
“The fuck! There is no fucking way!” Taehyung’s voice got louder as he yelled, signaling his growing proximity. “Call NASA right now!”
Jungkook sighed, throwing his head against the couch. Goodbye erection, and goodbye any chance of having sex that day. “Yoongi and Taehyung just showed up,” he mumbled bitterly. 
You lowered your gaze and took a deep breath, then removed yourself from his lap. Jungkook hated the lack of heat, and he swore he would have drop-kicked the two if they weren’t in a different dimension. The certainty of death was all that he needed to know that he would get his revenge some day. “Of course they did,” you complained, fixing your clothes. “I love being cockblocked by cockless ghosts. Again.”
“Hey!” Taehyung sounded actually offended. 
Jungkook turned around harshly, his voice bitter. “Can the two of you just fuck off? This is not the time.” 
“So you two can fuck?” Yoongi grinned, then looked at Taehyung. “We should, actually.”
“Jungkook… this is too weird now.” You raised your hands in a silent bargain for it all to stop. You could deal with a few psychic sessions every once in a while, but being a voyeurism victim for ghosts wouldn’t be the way you wanted to spend your afternoon. “Let’s do this another time, okay? I should get going anyways. Big day at the hospital tomorrow.” 
He took one of his hands to his face, massaging his temple. You got up from the couch, reaching for your backpack. “Yeah, okay.” The boy pouted, and you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Disappointing end for a night, to say the least. “Good luck tomorrow. Text me if you get an interesting case!”  
“Thanks! I will.” You threw your backpack strap over your shoulder and started walking towards the exit. Jungkook couldn’t blame you for just wanting to leave that place as soon as possible, he was sure that the discomfort was much worse for you. “Bye, Jungkook! I’ll let you know when I get to my place.”
He opened his mouth to thank you, but you were already out the door. The lock clicked shut, and the silence became thick, mocking him. Even if he already had an actual girlfriend, Jungkook still found himself being left behind by someone that would never want to see him again — dick semi-hard and morale shattered on the ground. Seems like he always found himself back in that position. 
Taehyung materialized on the couch next to him, hugging his knees. He was staring at the closed door, somewhat expecting that you would come back, but knowing very well that you wouldn’t do so. “Okay, I accept that it was our fault,” he said, oscillating his gaze towards Jungkook. “Sorry, man. We are like, super invested in this. There’s almost nothing interesting going on in the afterlife and this is, like, better than any TV show airing right now.” 
Jungkook rolled his eyes, utterly exhausted at the mess that had become his life. He was done giving them sermons: it had basically turned into the world’s worst pastime and gave little to no results. “You know what? Just promise me you’re not going to show up next time.” He stared both of them down. “I don’t wanna be watched, that’s just weird. And I know that Y/N isn’t happy about that either.” 
Yoongi shrugged. “Some people like it.” 
“Yeah, I’m not one of those people,” he told him. “Guys, please. I know you two are as excited as I am about this, and I appreciate your... support, but I think this is something I need to do alone. In peace. Not being watched by spirits. That’s isn’t too much to ask.”  
“He’s right, you know?” Taehyung said, looking back at Yoongi. “We should stay in our lane for now.” 
The other ghost looked down at his feet, which basically morphed into the carpet beneath them. For the first time in two long years, he actually seemed like he was rethinking his actions. “Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi responded. “We got carried away. We’ll leave next time. Maybe try something when your neighbors are having a movie night.” 
Jungkook’s shoulders fell in alleviation.  Maybe not everything was doomed. “Thank you,” he spoke, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll probably do that. When is the next one?” 
Taehyung looked at Yoongi, then back at him. “What are the chances that you’re gonna get your virgin shit together by tomorrow night?”  
___________
Slim to none, actually, but he had managed to (kind of) do it. Focus on the “kind of.”
Jungkook had spent the previous night doing in-depth research about sexual intercourse,  and basing his actions in real-life situations. That meant that he stayed up until four in the morning watching porn. Not masturbating. Just watching it very closely and trying to learn what to do — like an actual serial killer. 
“Do you think that this is… a good idea?” Taehyung spoke from the other side of his room, preoccupation plastered all over his face. The whole porn-science was funny for the first twenty minutes, and then it just ended up being terrifying. “You know that people don’t actually have sex like that, right? It’s all exaggerated.” 
“Quiet!” Jungkook raised his finger after a particularly loud moan echoed, his eyes red and glued to the computer screen. The white light from his device was awfully sharp, bathing his figure and making his image border on demonic. It really wasn’t a good look. “I’m researching. I need to know what to do.” 
“You look and sound like a maniac.” Taehyung walked closer to the bed, measuring his movements. After he died, he thought that he would never be afraid of any other living thing — but Jungkook had just proved him wrong. Against his best judgement, he took a peek at the screen. “No! Oh my— That’s not natural. That’s so wrong. You should know, you studied anatomy.” 
“I’m not gonna do this tomorrow,” Jungkook mumbled, closing the video. Taehyung recoiled back to the darkness of the room like a vampire that had just been touched by the sun. “The plot was interesting.” 
“You’re not even hard, man,” he said, pointing at Jungkook’s trousers. “This is like, really weird. You should stop before you have some problem getting it up tomorrow.” 
“What are you trying to say?” He narrowed his eyes, paranoid. “That wouldn’t happen. I know what I can do.”  
“You’re the medical student, take a look,” Taehyung insisted. “There’s research about that, pornography affects young men and women a lot and— Actually, what the fuck am I talking about? This is crazy. I should’ve left with Yoongi.” 
“Wait, I just—” Jungkook closed his computer with a sigh. His hair was disheveled and his gaze was unfocused. It really was the oddest night in Taehyung’s life/death. “I just don’t know what to do tomorrow. I’m about to have an anxiety attack. It’s like the third one tonight.” 
Taehyung pressed his lips together, the discomfort inside him being replaced by a warm sense of understanding. “Man, she knows you don’t have experience. She isn’t expecting a porn star performance, or whatever the fuck you were just watching.” He pointed to the computer, which was now neglected amongst the sea of blankets. “By the way, I’m a changed spirit. I hate you for making me see that.” 
Jungkook would have laughed at his distress if he wasn’t too tired to do that. “Technically, you decided to look at it yourself,” he corrected. “But, yeah, I know she’s not expecting anything great. But I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself, you know? Not like it’s a rare occasion or anything.” 
Taehyung shrugged. Being alive made everything seem so much more important than it actually was, he thought. “Lay back and let her take the lead, then.” 
Jungkook furrowed his brow, his eyes widening at the idea. Of course! That was the big  galaxy brain moment he needed all along. “Are you serious? It’s that simple?” He asked, hopeful. 
Taehyung chuckled. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 
Yeah. It was that simple. Who would’ve thought that those see-through idiots actually would have something intelligent to say? 
Really, it was a time of miracles in Jungkook’s life. The following day, the planets aligned and, for the first time ever since puberty, everything went right for him: the class ended a bit early, his neighbors decided to watch two movies instead of one, and his place was perfectly devoid of any paranormal activity by the time you wandered into it. 
He didn’t tell you that he had planned that entire thing before it happened — he thought it would be super strange to schedule his virginity loss out loud — and he was glad to see that everything evolved naturally. One hour and forty minutes after you arrived, you two were already at the same point that you had left the day before — only, this time, you two actually managed to get to his bed.
“They’re not here, are they? You’re sure?” You asked in between kisses for what should’ve been the fifth time. 
“No, I asked them to leave earlier.” Jungkook’s hands pressed down on your hips, the sensation of your center rolling against his erection eliciting a sigh from him. Ha! Fuck Taehyung and his soft dick curse. “I actually… Before we do anything, I actually wanted to know if you could, you know, help me a little.” 
You hummed, taking your face away from his. Jungkook watched as you licked your lips, your eyes dazed, and leaned in to place another kiss against his mouth. “In what way?” You asked. 
“Just... show me what to do,” he said. “What you like, if I’m doing something wrong… everything.” 
With a soft smile, you agreed, arms curling around his shoulders. “Of course,” you told him. “It’ll be my pleasure.” 
That being said, you dove back to his lips, feeling as he both simultaneously relaxed and tensed up under your touches. Jungkook had evolved a lot in those past few months, you realized, since the early-dating version of him wouldn’t find himself in that position without turning into a stuttering, blushing mess beneath you. It was kind of cute, but you’d never say that out loud. 
You felt his hands trailing up your back, underneath your clothes, his palms dwelling in the softness of your skin for a moment before, in a courageous movement, he decided to pull your shirt up. There was a short separation of your mouths as the piece of clothing slid up your arms, and collapsed against the floor in a puddle of cotton. 
Jungkook sighed once he felt the lace of your bra against his hands; the softness of your breasts was something that he continuously daydreamed about. Now, without the barrier of your clothes, all that he needed was to remove that last constriction and he would be— 
“Oh well…” He chuckled nervously, fumbling with your bra. “Sorry, I don’t know how to open this.”
You smiled at the embarrassment that danced around his features. “Relax, okay?” You said, moving your hands to your back and taking care of that problem yourself. You’d teach him about the magic of unclasping bras another time. “It’s fine.”
But Jungkook didn’t have time to think about an answer, for soon your bra was meeting your shirt on the floor. His reaction would’ve been the same if you just moved over and came back with a baby dinosaur in your hands — his eyes widening in amazement as he took in the image of your nude breasts, a small whimper perishing in his throat as he slithered his hands upward, cupping them. 
Your breath stopped for a moment when he leaned in, reluctant, and enveloped one of your nipples with his warm mouth, his tongue delicately coming out to trace circles on your sensitive flesh. Jungkook groaned at the sensation, his cock becoming unbearably hard against his pants, and tilted your body over so he could be on top of you. 
You curled up against the sheets, sighing in delight as the boy continued to work on your breasts, kissing and sucking lightly, taking his time. Every time you looked down, you could see that Jungkook was having almost as much fun as you, the small moans that dripped from his tongue vibrating inside your chest. 
“Does it feel good?” He raised his gaze towards you, expectant. “Am I doing a good job?” 
“Yes, very good.” Your hands curled around the roots of his hair. The action was gentle, but Jungkook shuddered under the sensation — every small movement proved itself to be a lot for him to handle. “You’re doing amazing. Is there something that you want to do, Kookie?” 
The boy licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Part of him (probably the sleep deprived one) still didn’t believe that you two were actually doing that — that it wasn’t just a figment of his horny imagination. No, it was real. You were right there in front of him, beautiful and devastating, caressing his hair as you waited for an answer. 
“I… I want to make you feel good,” he said, wide-eyed and hesitant. His dick felt painfully hard being so constructed by his pants and, suddenly, he became aware of how clothed he still was. No wonder it was so hot. “Just tell me what you want me to do.” 
Your lips curled up at his adorableness, one of your hands meeting his wrist. Patiently, you guided it down, and placed it on the hem of your pants. “Can you touch me?” You questioned. “I can tell you what I like.” 
“Oh, please,” he almost pleaded, his hand already fumbling to open your pants. Much to his delight, those were a lot easier than your bra, and they were soon sliding down your legs with ease. 
He took a moment to take in your form, eyes traveling up from your legs, to your hips, then all the way back to your breasts. As Jungkook met your gaze, he allowed for a suspire of relief to depart from his mouth, shoulders relaxing. “I’m so lucky,” he spoke, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
The smile that you presented him looked brighter than all of the stars above. “Come here,” you called, leaning against your elbows. “Give me a kiss.” 
Obedient, Jungkook did as you requested, a grunt escaping his chest once you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, nails brushing lightly against the skin of his neck. He had goosebumps at the sensation, his hand moving by its own will, navigating down your stomach and towards your heat. 
His fingers hovered, insecure, over the hem of your panties for a moment. Still, at the sound of his name being spoken against the kiss, he was overtaken by an ephemeral spark of courage. Soon, your panties were on the floor too. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jungkook whined at the contact, his fingers dwelling just above your entrance. Inside his pants, his cock twitched at the sensation, his lower body already tingling with excitement. He didn’t know how he would manage not to cum in his pants, but he would have to find a way. “What do I do now?” 
“Now...” you said, leaning your head against the pillow. “Move up and find my clit. Make all those hours of anatomy worth it,” you joked. 
Jungkook nodded, but anatomy was much more difficult when he wasn’t actually looking at a certain part of the body — he was much more interested in watching your expression. Embarrassed, he did as you requested, trailing his wet fingers up until you told him to stop. “Right there,” you said, sighing once you felt his hand pressing down on it, starting to trace small circular patterns. “That’s it, baby, great job.” 
His heart leaped at the compliment, and his actions became firmer. Jungkook thought he would go insane when he heard you whimper and cry out at the sensation, your hips bucking up against his hand ever so slightly. “You’re so hot,” he breathlessly confessed, his words coming in a hot puff of air against your neck. His digits slowly trailed down, towards your entrance, and he paused. “Can I?” 
“Yeah,” you agreed. 
Jungkook swallowed hard, adventuring one finger inside you. At the sensation of your walls clenching around him, he moaned, biting his lip. “God, you’re so tight,” he told you, adding a second finger. You raised your hips at the contact, hands curling on his hair. “I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” 
His mouth came back to your breasts, sucking and licking your flesh. Jungkook was a mess, you realized — pressing down his hard member against your thigh, whining against your skin as his fingers curled inside you, sinking into your wetness. God, you weren’t made of steel. “I want it,” you told him, and he didn’t understand your words for a moment. “I want to feel you, Jungkook.” 
And he didn’t need anything else. The boy moved away from your body and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. It was no time for hesitation— he didn’t know how much of his precious alone time he had left. “Condoms.” He pointed at his nightstand. “Top drawer.” 
You turned around on the bed, reaching for the furniture as the boy unbuckled his belt and clumsily removed his pants. The mattress bounced beneath you as Jungkook tossed himself around, finding a way to lose his balance as he threw his pants on the ground. Much to his relief, you weren’t paying much attention to it. 
He was already panting — in a mixture of excitement and his pathetic effort to remove his pants — by the time that you gave him the condom. “Do you put it on, or do you want me to?” You asked. 
Jungkook had trained on enough bananas to know that he could do it, but he wasn’t gonna let the chance to have you touching him down there pass. “You do it, please.” 
You nodded, sitting next to his expectant figure. Jungkook’s chest rose and fell in anticipation, his muscles glistening with the small droplets of sweat that decorated his caramel skin.  His cock was hard and heavy against the fabric of his grey underwear, practically calling for your care. 
Attentively, you watched as his abdomen tensed up at the feeling of one of your hands pressing down against his clothed erection, delicately moving towards his crown. A gasp tumbled from his lips as you rolled your thumb against it, noticing the wetness that had already accumulated beneath your hand, and he rolled his hips against the pressure. Really, Jungkook was too precious. 
“Please, don’t tease,” he begged, eyes following your every move. His cock throbbed in your hands, needy. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” 
With a hum of agreement, you moved your hand away from his erection, and pulled his underwear down gently. Jungkook whimpered at the fiction, and the way his cock was freed from its constraints, bouncing back against his abdomen. The smallest of touches was more than enough for him to lose himself. 
“Shhh, it’s fine,” you calmed him down, slowly (too slowly) rolling the condom on him. His hands clenched into fists next to him, grabbing handfuls of the white sheets. Okay, maybe you were being a bit mean. “Just tell me what you want.” 
Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment, holding back a cry of frustration. “Ride me, please,” his words came out in a plea, his expression so permeated by need that you thought that he could cry if you teased him any further. God, everything was so perfect about him — the glistening in his onyx irises, the reddening of his lips as he bit down on them, trying to fight back a whimper as you placed yourself over him. “I— I need to feel you. I’m going crazy.” 
There was no need for more convincing — again, you weren’t made of steel. 
You sighed as you sank down on his member, one of your hands finding support against his pecs, as the other curled around his cock, guiding him inside you. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head against the alabaster pillow, his flower-like lips opening to cry out at the sensation. “Oh fuck,” he cursed. “Oh, baby, that’s so good.” 
Seeing him like that, so submissive, so deliciously responsive to your faintest of touches, was, at the very least, extremely erotic. You loved to see the way he flinched and whined at the sensation of your walls clenching around him, his hands unsure of where they should be on your body. Awfully slow, you rose your hips from him, almost letting him slip out, before you shifted your weight back down, watching as Jungkook moaned out your name. 
God, he was really about to fall apart. 
Slowly, you began setting a pace, moving up and down on his cock. It was a lot slower than Jungkook expected, but it was just the right speed to make him appreciate every sensation of your body wrapping his own. 
“Feels good?” you asked, a bit breathless. The sensation of him filling you up was even better than you had anticipated, and, combined with his shameless exclamations of pleasure, you didn’t think that you’d last much longer either. 
Before he could answer, a tremulous sigh ruptured upon his mouth, reverberating just behind his teeth. Jungkook took another second to find his words, inhaling sharply. “So good,” he spoke, and you almost whined out at the lust that ornamented his voice. “Can you move faster? Please?” 
Maybe in different times, you’d take your time to provoke him a bit more. At that point, though, you’d do anything he wanted you to. “Yeah,” you agreed, doing as requested. The sound of your wetness and the slapping of skin against skin was lewd, filling the room alongside Jungkook’s voice. “Like this?”  
“Fuck, yeah, like this,” he cried out, closing his eyes in absolute euphoria. He could feel the movement of your asscheeks against his palms, the sensation enough to drive him insane. Jungkook was already amazed at the fact that he didn’t embarrass himself with premature ejaculation the second that you removed his underwear — but it didn’t mean that he didn’t get close to it. The second his hands squeezed your ass, he was positive he would end the game a bit earlier than the two of you would like. “It— it feels so good. Please, don’t stop.” 
With a moan, you threw your body forward, placing kisses on the curvature of his neck, a sensation that quickly sent shivers down his skin. The new angle made his cock hit even deeper inside you, causing for you both to melt in pleasure. “You feel so good,” you told him, nails digging against his flesh. The knot in your stomach was all too familiar, and you knew that you wouldn’t take much longer. “I love having you inside me.” 
“Oh, yeah, that’s good.” He mumbled, only half aware of the words leaving his lips. Jungkook’s eyes were dazed and unfocused, looking at nowhere in particular, his fingertips digging in your flesh. “You’re… you’re getting tighter.” 
“Y-Yeah,” you agreed, voice coming out in a moan. “I’m close.” 
He swallowed hard. “I can help,” he said. 
Before you could ask what he was trying to do, Jungkook moved his hand back to your center, two of his fingers playing with your clit. You gasped at the sensation, eyes closing as you kept riding him, rolling your hips, feeling as he reached for every part of you. It was all becoming too much, the pleasure that decorated his features, the  delicious friction of his body against yours, the frail moans that dropped from his tongue like honey. He was just too much. 
With a faint call of his name — a melody that would be stuck in his head forever —, you finally crossed the threshold of your orgasm, and came around him; morphing into a trembling and moaning mess. Jungkook watched, in absolute awe, as your face was monopolized by bliss, your teeth sinking down on your bottom lip and your eyes rolling back. 
He removed his hand from your heat, placing it on your waist. Using every final ounce of energy in your body, you continued riding him. Through parted lids, you noticed that his thighs were starting to shake, signaling that he, too, was close. “Baby,” the boy called out, his fingers digging to the sides of your hips. Jungkook was both trying to guide your movements, and hold himself back to reality. It was a beautiful view — the way his expression lingered somewhere between delight and distress; his hips mindlessly trusting up against yours. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 
You breathed out through your nose, trying to ignore the pleasure that, now, was turning into sensitivity. It felt good, in a way, but you were more focused on his relief at that point. “It’s okay, Kookie,” you told him, “you can let go.”
He had been so polite the entire time, with his “please” and “thank you’s. So, of course, when you told him that it was okay for him to cum, he did just as you requested. 
Jungkook came with gasping breaths and a trembling, high-pitched moan, holding on to you as he thrusted his last sloppy advances towards your core. His hands, weak, fell on the bed besides him, clenching the sheets; eyelashes fluttering down as he dwelled on the afterglow of his pleasure. You could stay there forever, looking at the pink shade that colored his cheeks; the beautiful mess that his black hair had turned into; or the tears of relief that accumulated at the corner of his eyes. 
But everything has to end, even the most beautiful ones. 
His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his eyes, still hooded, met yours. Not even the biggest minds in the renaissance could’ve thought of an image so perfect, so ethereal. “You’re so amazing,” he praised. “That was… amazing.” 
You smiled and leaned in to place a soft kiss against his lips. His member slipped out of you at the action, and his arms curled around your waist, keeping you in place. “You did pretty well,” you mumbled as you lazily curled up against his chest. Jungkook’s body was a delicious source of heat, and you could really get used to that. “I see a bright future ahead of you.”
He hummed, caressing your hair. Jungkook could finally smell it without being creepy, so that was a big victory for him. “You did most of the work,” he said. 
“That’s not an issue.” You nuzzled his neck, pleasantly feeling as goosebumps spread throughout his body. Always so responsive. “I’ll let you take the lead next time, if that sounds good to you.”
Jungkook chuckled. “That’d be great, yeah,” he agreed. Part of him thought about using a few tricks he learned during his late-night research, but he wasn’t super sure that it would be a good idea. Maybe he should keep that card up his sleeve for a bit longer in case he needed to surprise you later. “Do you want to spend the night? It’s kind of late to go back to your place now.”
The words fell from his tongue with ease, surprising the boy for an instant. He noticed that he was much more comfortable in your presence, like the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. Not because of the sex itself, he realized, but because of the vulnerability and intimacy that came with it. It happened just as it was supposed to. 
 “I’d love to.” You smiled, and placed a kiss against his neck. “But I’m going to kick you out if you start snoring.” 
“Out of my own place?” He asked. 
You sighed, voice filled by traces of your upcoming slumber. “Don’t you test me,” you spoke, wrapping your arms around him. “Medical school is killing me, I need some sleep. And I will get it no matter the price.” 
Jungkook laughed at your tired words, one of his hands caressing your head in infinite delicacy. As he held to your body, curling so perfectly against his own, he knew that everything would be okay. And maybe he needed a good night of sleep too. 
A few minutes later, as he started to feel the sensation of his consciousness slowly drifting away to the land of dreams, a bittersweet sentiment overtook his chest. There was an instant, even if ephemeral, in which Jungkook believed he would never see Yoongi and Taehyung again — after all, the two had already concluded their mission: Jungkook got the girl and there was nothing else left for them to do. In between two consecutive breaths, he felt both relief and solitude. Silence wasn’t as welcoming once he realized no voice could break it. 
Though, his melodramatic moment was short-lived. Behind him, a known timbre cheered for him:
“I’m so proud, I feel like a soccer mom.”
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catxsnow · 3 years
Text
HAPPINESS B.W.
Request: Will you do a Bruce Wayne x reader where the reader gets hurt because of his life and he just like super sorry and regretful? If you wanna change the bat boy that'll be okay.
Warning: mentions of blood and injury, fluff, angst 
A/N: hello good day one and all, my writing inspiration has plummeted even more but I hope everyone enjoys this. 
Word count: 1.9k 
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Bruce never wanted you to be part of his life for this reason. He didn't want an innocent civilian to get caught up in his life as Batman. Someone who couldn't take care of themselves like he or his kids could. He didn't want you to be trapped in the crossfire of his battles and be the one to suffer the consequences.
You knew the risks of being with him. One night he may never make it home because of his fights. Or maybe that one of his sons or daughter would fall again, and this time never return. You knew that maybe, you would somehow be the one to get the bullet instead of someone that would have known how to dodge it.
Maybe if Bruce would have been faster, or if he ignored his pride and asked for help everything would have turned out fine. Maybe if he sacrificed himself, you would have ended up safe. Instead, you laid in a hospital bed. Cast around your arm, brace on your neck. Cuts and bruises laced your skin from the accident.
Except it wasn't an accident. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and there was nothing that Bruce could have done to help, no matter how much he beat himself up over it. He was saving the lives of others - you would never shame him for that.
Being Batman was something you had to learn to deal with, but his need to save lives was something you could never chastise. You had your fights over it, the crying and screaming matches that seemed to go on for hours. Your pleads to get him to stop when things were going too far.
The times a young Jason Todd would come into your room with red eyes because he heard you and Bruce fights. An older Jason coming to you for comfort after hearing yet another argument with your husband. Tim crawling into your bed with you as Bruce headed out for a night on his own after yelling at you.
Dick, the child you never got a hand in raising, but being there for you because he knew Bruce's antics more than anyone. All his kids adored you, and they all knew what it was like to be on the other end of Bruce's stubborn Wrath.
Bruce was worth it. He was worth every tear, every kiss, every second. Every moment you spent with him, whether it be love or hate, you wouldn't change it for anything. Even if his love was the reason that you were in that bed.
"It's not your fault, Bruce," Dick stood behind the chair in which his adopted father sat. He came back to Gotham the moment that he heard about what happened. Damian had told him scene by scene what occurred - nothing of which Bruce could have stopped. Maybe not even if he was Superman.
Unfortunately, Dick knew all too well that Bruce would feel guilty for this. He was more protective of you than anyone else in this entire world. He would go to any length to keep you safe.
Bruce held your hand in his. The faint pulse was the only thing keeping him sane in that moment. His hair was tousled, likely from the stress he had been under these past few hours. It wasn't often Dick saw him like this. Then again, it wasn't often Bruce ever let anything happen to you.
"I knew a day like this would come and yet I still agreed to let them into my life," Bruce's voice was hoarse - nearly as much as it was when he was under the cowl. The only difference, was now he wasn't hiding behind a mask, he was forced to face the reality of what could happen to those he loved because of his life.
"Growing up, I never thought I'd see the day that you'd fall in love," Dick sat down in the chair across from Bruce. He refused to take his eyes off you, even with his son showing himself. "And then you met (Y/N). I remember them coming over to the mansion for the first time. I wasn't living there anymore but you wanted me to come to meet them.
"I've never seen you laugh, genuinely laugh, so much in one night. I could tell, from that night that they were different than the other woman you brought home. You cared about them from the start, Bruce. (Y/N) wasn't just some other person that you seduced to uphold your playboy act. They knew what they were getting into with you. You can't just force everyone away because you're scared of potential outcomes - that's part of life. Even for Batman."
"They wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me," Bruce tried to argue. Always the glutton for punishment, even when the hand didn't need to be delivered to him.
"And they might have ended up far worse if it hadn't been for you," Dick spoke, his voice steady. He too hated seeing you like this - but if Bruce wasn't going to be the stable one then he had to take that burden. "If there's one thing in this world that people like us struggle to get... it's happiness. You found yours in (Y/N). Don't lose that because of one accident."
><
"Father."
It had been days since you had been admitted into the hospital. Yesterday morning you woke up sore, but alive. Bruce was yet to leave your side. Stubble littered his face from going days without shaving. A look that you weren't able to truly appreciate from being asleep half the time.
By this time the next day, you would be allowed to leave, but that didn't make your husband any less worried about your well being. Bruce still blamed himself for what happened, even after you had told him it wasn't his fault in the slightest. You could see the guilt on his face, just as he wore every time something went wrong with you involved.
"I brought you food," Damian held a bag of take-out in his hand. If he knew his father well enough, he'd know that he hadn't eaten anything all day. It was confirmed when he heard the loud growl of Bruce's stomach the moment that he got a whiff of the food in the room. "Eat."
"I'm not hungry," Bruce waved off his son. It was clear he was in need of something to eat, though he was too stubborn to take care of himself while you were in need. Even if it was just watching over you while you slept. Damian shoved the bag directly in front of his face until he reluctantly accepted.
"You need a shower," Damian's nose curled up. He stood looking down at his father. As worried as he had been, he also was acting immaturely. Refusing to take care of himself, constantly under surveillance while you were in good hands as it was. "(Y/N) will be perfectly safe with me. Go home. Get some sleep. We'll be here in the morning and ready to go home."
"I'm fine."
"You're not." Damian eyes the food until Bruce took a bite. It wasn't often that he was worried about his father, but it had been days since he had properly looked out for himself. It was clear how far his love for you went after seeing him like this. Or more so, his guilt for letting this happen. "Do you not trust me to take care of them?"
Bruce's jaw tightened. Truth was, he didn't trust anyone with you. Not even himself. Not even Clark. Damian took his silence as an answer. Of course not. Bruce couldn't trust him for a night out alone on patrol, how was he supposed to trust him with his partner?
"It's my fault they're here, Damian," Bruce sighed. "I've never been so scared before."
This was the first time that Damian had ever seen his father so truly vulnerable. Never in his life did Bruce admit that he was scared, yet here he was completely unscathed and terrified. Dick was right, he found complete and utter happiness in you, and the thought of losing you hurt more than anything else.
He wasn't just scared. He was horrified. Nothing in this world put more fear into him than seeing you suffer, or worse.
"It's not your fault, Father," Damian assured, just as his older brother had. "You always taught me to be brave, to face what scared me most. There's nothing wrong with feeling scared sometimes. It reminds us that we're human, that we're allowed to feel things. (Y/N) loves you, this won't change anything."
><
"Bruce would you stop hovering over me, I'm fine!"
You thought getting back to the manor would mean Bruce would finally be off your back about your injuries. It couldn't be more of the opposite. He was constantly trailing behind you, ready to give you aid whenever you needed it. Honestly, you weren't even that sore.
The brace on your neck was gone before you even left the hospital. Your dark bruises were lighter in color and the cuts that required stitches were healing just fine. The only noticeable injury was the cast on your arm, and you could still function just fine without it. Bruce was just being his overly-protective self.
"If I would have known that all I needed to do to get this much attention from you was to get myself hurt, I would have done it a long time ago," You tried to joke. He remained stoic about your comment, your health was no joking matter. You placed your palm on his cheek, the warmth of his skin being soaked up by your own.
"Seriously, hun, I feel perfectly fine. I'm just thankful for you being there." He didn't look convinced. There was nothing worse than failing you, and he had done exactly that.
"Except I wasn't there," he muttered. Bruce tilted his head in shame. He wasn't there to save you fast enough, he should have been. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so sorry that my life put yours at risk."
"Bruce, my love," your fingers caught under his chin. He reluctantly met your eyes. Shame filled his entire body, he was supposed to be able to save the world, and yet he couldn't save the one closest to him. "I will never blame you for anything like this. I need you to know that. No matter what happens to me, It will never be your fault."
"I love you," Bruce's lip trembled. You were quick to bring him into a kiss. After everything that he's done, the last thing that he deserved was guilt. "I can't live without you. You're my happiness, my everything. I was, I was so scared. I can't live without you, (Y/N)."
"And you'll never have to."
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shegairowmyamo · 3 years
Text
Protective Horror Sans x reader
Horror is like a guard dog, There are no limits he won't go to keep you safe from any form of danger directed towards you. Whether it be a rude customer or a harasser. He will lome over you menacingly with a wide grin on his lack of a face, his whole bodylanguade teling the ashole to fuck of.
He's the equivalent of “i've only known y/o for a day and a half but if anything happens to them i will kill everyone in this room and then myself”
If you're ever feeling consuse over how weak you are compared to him he will remind you that we all have our own limits to certain things. He might be stronger in the physical department but where he lacks is his self control. Not nesesary murder but like, if your at the supermarcet with him hes going to by seven of the same items if you dont stop him. You help him when he has problems coping with his emotions and he helps you with your bully problem.
Despite everything that happened in the underground, Sans still got a soft spot for animals and he probably has a therapy dog to help him cope with what happend and the emotions that he was forest to surpreas. It's a rule in the house that you all have to take care of the little ball of fluff. Unleash your alergic.
Sans may not be the brightest when it comes to knowing why you're upset without telling him but he will find out. And when he does, oh boi. but then again it also depends on what it is but I think we all know what he's gonna do if he finds out that someone has been frequently rude to you.
Now that Sans is out of the underground he doesn't need to kill anyone for food or out of self defense anymore, but he still has those few tendencies from back in the day. but you help him repres those things with forehead kisses, telling him comforting things, cuddling him. But it's hard to do so when you're covered in bruises and crying uncontrollably. Oh Sans is gonna have a ball when he finds out who did this. He might not be the beast at comforting you when he first sees you like this but if Papyrus is not home then he will try his beast through sharpened teeth. But otherwise don't be too surprised if a news article shows up on tv about a person that was brutally murdered. Hell it would be more of a surprise if it didn't happen.
If I remember correctly, horror Sans was a victim of the geneside route even though he and many of the main monsters survived, which in my opinion makes that a normal route but without the whole monsters getting out of the underground thingi. And now that the monsters (or what's left of them) have gotten out, they are all kinda weary that Frisk is still out there. And it keeps Sans up at night.
He's seen what Frisk has done and the horrors they have brought on to the underground, unknowingly or not, they are a target.
Sans woke up startled, sitting up in your shared bed with his soul going a mile a minute. The whole day he had a case of deja vu, like he's done this before, not that he doesn't mind seeing his girlfriend in the morning or his brother in the kitchen like he usually does but… There are a few details that just stuck out to him. Miner things to you were like a thorn in his side. Something was up, but what was it? eh he can't be bothered, Sans weant along with his day, eating breakfast, watching tv, going on a walk in the park, and that's when it hit him. The moment he saw those fumilure blue and pink stripes, he punesd on them without warning. The weight of his body crushed their ribs rendering them in a parolised state, Sans saw red as his instincts from back in the underground kicked in. He grabd the kid's head and bashed it against the ground coloring the green grass red. He only stopped when they stopped screaming, he tilted their head to look at him, he saw their unfocused eyes glisten with tears. That was the last thing he saw before dealing the final blow to them… At least that is what he remembers as he locks eyes with the child from across the park as the memories flode within his mind. Frisk looks at him with fear, he smiles back :)
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levi-my-beloved · 3 years
Text
Birds of a Feather
Chapter 4
Parings: Canon!Levi x F!Reader
Content Warnings: Violence, torture, this one gets a little spicy y’all, descriptions of sexual acts, hints of abuse (please let me know if i’ve missed any)
Word Count: 14.8K
Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in The Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened be be Humanity’s Strongest... and your ex.
Previous Chapter
First Chapter
A/N: well, you guys wanted it all in one post! this is by far the longest chapter, yet, and possibly the longest chapter in the entire fic maybe? i’ve caught myself up now with the progress of writing, since i’ve only completed one part of the next chapter so chapter 5 won’t be out within the next three days like these last four have been. i’m thinking i’ll need maybe a week? not sure, but the next part has a little flashback section which i hope you’ll all enjoy!
god these a/n’s are really long aren’t they? asdfghjkl sorry i’ll make the cut off now. hope you enjoy!!!
𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔
Whether it had been thirty minutes or thirty years, you couldn’t tell. Struggling to stay conscious as the four soldiers brought your limp body back to your cell. Your legs no longer work, gathering dust as they drag across the ground. Your abdomen and back were on fire. You were convinced. They had simply thrown you into hell to cook for a bit before dragging you back out. There was no other explanation. Other than the countless, seemingly endless beatings you had just taken. Whether your legs were tired or if your spine was broken, you couldn’t tell as they tossed you back behind bars, removing the rope around your wrists. You didn’t have the strength to fight back. Didn’t have the strength to even raise your head as they left.
Broken, split ribs sent agonising jolts of pain as you shifted in a lame attempt to curl up into a ball. You hadn’t cracked like they’d wanted you to. You hadn’t screamed, cried, begged them to stop. And you wouldn’t. When they came back for you, you would hold your tongue once again. You had never broken in the past. Whether you’d been compromised during an assault on a rival gang, or whether it was one of your mentor’s training exercises to get you used to torture. You had never broken.
You weren’t about to start now.
Still, the throbbing in your body prevented you from sleeping. You didn’t know what time it was. Time had escaped you during that ordeal. You didn’t even know what time of day it was, pretty sure it was night when they had come for you.
Fuck, your body ached. But you knew comfort was a long way from here. It always seemed so far away from where you were. Did you ever have comfort?
You lay there for god knows how long, seconds turning to minutes, minutes to hours. Hours could have turned to days for all you knew.
When the now familiar echo of footsteps reached your ears, you didn’t move. You didn’t care. Whoever it was could rot in hell for all you cared. Wishing death upon these fucking soldiers was the only thing keeping you from giving up right now.
“The bed not good enough or something?” Levi. Shit. The one person you didn’t want to see you like this.
You didn’t answer, choosing instead to try and count as many marks on the wall as you could. It helped to keep your focus off the dull throbbing coursing through your body.
“Oi, ‘you seriously still asleep? It's almost midday,” the singing of metal caused you to wince slightly as he rapped on the bars in an attempt to wake you from a sleep you weren’t in.
“Get the fuck u—” You had a vague idea what caused him to stop his impending barrage of insults you knew were about to flutter effortlessly from his mouth, and you couldn’t tell if you were thankful or not. On the upside, you didn’t have to hear whatever colourful language he was about to spew. On the downside…
“What happened to you…?” it was the second time he’d asked that question, but from the tone of his voice, you could tell this was less a passing thought and more of a question prompted by horror.
Levi froze. His breath caught in his throat. He had expected you to be awake by now. To be up, with that crooked, cocky smile on your face. In fact, he’d half expected you to be leaning against the wall, the door flung wide open as you twirled the keychain around your finger, simply begging him to ask you how you’d done it.
The last thing he expected to see was you, on the floor, curled into a ball. The shirt on your lower back riding up enough for him to see violent, deep purple bruises, blood steadily streaming from your spine and lower back.
Still you refused to answer, or even move. Filthy fucking soldiers, you fucking hated every last one of them. How fucking dare they? How dare they string you up like a piece of drying meat. They had no idea what you’d been through. What you’d had to do to survive. How dare they assume.
And yet,
And yet there was still that little voice in your head. That little kernel of doubt, convincing you that you deserved this. You had killed so many. So much blood was on your hands.
You deserved this.
You didn’t even notice Levi had entered your cell until a hand rested upon your shoulder.
“(Y/N)—”
“Don’t fucking touch me,” your reaction was instant. Instinctual. Immediately wrenching out of his hand, throwing yourself forward. A yelp escaped your mouth without your permission, fire igniting in your body as you moved so suddenly. It caused you to falter in your movements, landing harshly on your side. “Shit!” your voice broke as you yelped, agony flaring in your entire midsection, hand flying to clutch your side as you backed up against the wall. “Don’t fucking touch me,” there was no conviction in your voice. It was more of a plea than anything. If you had raised your head to look at him, maybe you would have laughed at his expression of twisted shock.
But instead you let your hair fall in front of your face, masking your own expression. Teeth grit in silent pain, eyes screwed shut.
Levi’s worry turned to outright unsettling fear. Over the last two days, he’s witnessed you more broken than he’s ever seen you before. He remembered sitting up with you after you’d woken from one of your nightmares. The two of you sitting on the floor against the wall, sharing a cup of tea to not waste resources. He’d seen you angry. He’d seen you upset. But he’d never seen you shattered.
“(Y/N)...” you’d forgotten how soft his usual bored voice could sound. Even after yesterday, you hadn’t heard that tone from him in years. It was borderline unnatural.
It prompted you to raise your head ever so slightly, glaring at him through thick, matted (H/C) strands. You refused to let your guard down, even though the sight of him squatting before you, eyebrows gently creased with suppressed worry almost made you relax. But you weren’t about to be taken away and tortured again.
Any scrap of trust that may have manifested yesterday during the carriage ride and your conversation had been crushed.
“Get away from me,” you looked feral, bearing your teeth animalistically as you snarled. Though it didn’t seem to deter him. He knew a dog only bared its teeth when it was wounded, fearing to be hurt further.
Levi sighed through his nose as he stood. You flinched at his movement and watched as he made more of a conscious effort not to startle you. Your eyes squinted in suspicious confusion as he took a small cloth from his pocket and started running it under the tap.
It seemed the faucet did work. Good to know.
Returning to squat in front of you, his eyes flickered from your face to your abdomen.
“Show me,” he instructed gently, and you almost obeyed him. Almost.
“Go fuck yourself,” you spat instead, bringing your knees closer to your aching body. If you hadn’t been trained to withstand pain, you would have cried out as your abdomen begged you to stop constricting your muscles.
“I’m trying to help,” your ears caught the slight irritation in his tone, but you didn’t care. He could kick you for all you care.
Actually, you really didn’t want him to do that.
“I don’t want your help,”
“You need it.”
“Burn in hell, Levi,” it was the first time you’d actually used his name since you said it back when they first apprehended you, and Levi couldn’t deny that it cut deep. A sentiment he masked with a frustrated exhale. Clearly he’d expected resistance. Either that or he was just as tenacious as he used to be.
“Well, I'm definitely not going up,” he responded, that same softness in his tone and despite your situation, you couldn’t help the slight huff of amusement. It seemed to put him at ease too, content you weren’t about to lunge for his throat.
Slowly, you uncurled from your position, visibly wincing as your torn, beaten muscles relaxed. Levi took this as permission to inch closer and you felt a small appreciation for his trepidation.
Still, you couldn’t help but flinch every time he moved too fast. A simple reflex stemming from your training. It wasn’t really something you thought about, but it prompted the raven haired man to freeze every time you moved.
You refused to meet his eyes as he gently lifted the fabric of your shirt, hearing his breath hitch slightly.
“Holy shit…” He breathed. You hadn’t seen how bad your body was damaged, but judging by his reaction;
It sure as hell wasn’t good.
Levi felt he could kill someone. Actually, a lot of someones. Shit, when he finds out who was responsible for this he would make sure they wished they were never born. The same rage he felt when seeing you flinch for the first time once again coursed through his veins, and this time, he didn’t think he could just let it simmer.
“Who did this to you?” you blinked, his question caught you off guard. Didn’t he know? How didn’t he know? Surely every soldier in the damn military would revel in the idea of you being tortured all night. You clenched your jaw, refusing to respond. You didn’t know why you were being so stubborn. Maybe it was the sheer principle of not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him.
In fact, now you thought about it, it was definitely that. Whether Levi sensed it or not, he chose not to press you for an answer. Perhaps he did already know.
You hissed as the cold, damp cloth gently soothed your inflamed skin, glancing back to his face. You hated the way his focussed expression calmed your heart. Loathed how that crease in his eyebrows eased your whirling thoughts. Despised how, from this angle, you could see just how annoyingly attractive he had become.
“Can you move?” he asked, silver eyes rising up to meet your own. The low torchlight highlighted the heus of deep blue you knew he had hidden away. You pretended you looked away because you couldn’t stand the sight of his face, rather than the reality.
You were far too tempted to lean up and capture his lips.
“Yes,” Levi couldn’t tell if you were lying, shifting slightly to help you move but stopping immediately when you flinched away.
“Lie on the bed,” for the first time in ten years, you were compelled to follow an order. You weren’t even obedient towards Viper most of the time. But nonetheless, you found yourself struggling to your feet, an arm braced on the wall behind you.
Clearly respecting your independence, Levi took a step back, allowing you to find your own way. If you weren’t slightly delirious from the pain, you would have missed a kernel of respect flashing in his expression, before he swiftly turned away, washing the cloth again as you collapsed onto the so-called ‘mattress’ with a hiss.
Levi rung the small cloth out onto the floor, focussing on the way the droplets collided with the stone, rather than the way every movement you made caused you obvious pain. Once again, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to cradle you in his arms and whisper soft nothings into your ear. He wanted you to fall asleep next to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He craved to feel your soft hair through his fingertips, gently coercing you into dreams. It hurt so much that he could see you, but he couldn’t have you.
Turning to face away from him, you once again shrivelled into a ball. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want any of this. You just wanted to be left alone. But the dip in the bed behind you told you that wasn’t an option right now, muscles tensing on instinct.
he didn’t ask for permission this time as gentle fingers gripped your shirt, dragging up to reveal your brutalised back. If you could see his expression, you might have even been afraid. Darkness shrouded his face, teeth grit in utter hatred. A muscle in his jaw twitching from the effort of clamping his mouth so tightly.
His first touch felt like you’d been shocked by the static that built up on the bed clothes. The damp cool gliding across the welts and bruises across your back. Balling your hands into fists, you refused to make any sound. Still having the mindset of not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of hearing you in pain. It was a mindset you didn’t think would leave you for a while.
Levi worked in silence, allowing you to settle and almost relax after a while. You wanted to trust him, but you didn’t. Not really. However, right now, you trusted him not to hurt you further. Simply content to relish in the way he soothed the pain. It didn’t come naturally. Every time he pressed too hard it took all your strength not to lunge for his throat, but he would stop upon hearing your sharp intake of breath, waiting for you to settle before continuing.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, you finally broke it with a question that had been budding in your mind.
“Why are you doing this?” your voice came out a rasped whisper, almost as if you hadn’t used your vocal chords for weeks. You were sure he wasn’t going to answer, opting instead to simply continue to clean your bruises. Another blanket of quiet had settled over the two of you before he responded.
“I don’t know,” he lied. Levi wasn’t sure why he lied. Honestly, he thought it was obvious enough. He still cared about you. So fucking much. It burned him to see you in so much pain. He’d never felt the mind numbing fury he felt when he saw what they’d done to you.
You weren’t really happy with the answer. If anything, it simply gave you more questions. But you were too tired to press for more. Almost too tired to notice when he’d stopped. Pulling your grimy shirt back down to your waist, you felt the mattress rise as he stood. You didn’t turn. You couldn’t turn. After the night you’d had, the exhaustion from the last 24 hours finally catching up on you.
Noticing how you were almost already asleep, Levi decided to throw caution to the wind.
You felt a soft caress through your dirt ridden hair, the action sending a pleasant buzz through your system. It was an action so familiar to the both of you, you wondered why you kept flinching away from his touch when all it did was gently drain you of energy.
“Sleep.”
You didn’t have time to contemplate his tone before the comforting nothingness claimed you.
꧁ꨄ꧂
Levi hadn’t been this angry in a long, long time. Sure, he’d been annoyed. When a solider made a stupid mistake or when a cadet didn’t know how to clean properly. But he hadn’t been this furious in years.
Maybe since the deaths of Isobel and Farlan.
It was obvious when Levi was in a bad mood. Sweeping through the headquarters like a storm. Cadets could almost feel his presence before they saw him, swiftly making themselves busy as he paid no attention to any of them. He had one goal in mind. One destination. And he didn’t even knock when he got there.
“Out. Now.” it wasn’t an order to disobey. When he opened the door to Erwin’s office, revealing a small meeting, Levi didn’t think twice to dismiss them, even if they were his superiors.
“Levi, what’s—”
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll all leave the room for the next half an hour. Maybe longer depending on how this conversation goes,” his swirling eyes met Erwin’s and he swore he could detect the slightest fear in the man’s gaze.
Good.
He should be afraid.
Without so much as a mutter of goodbyes, the squad leaders and section commanders all dispersed, leaving the Captain alone with the Commander.
Erwin was the first to break the heavy silence.
“I’m assuming this is about Raven?” his voice didn’t waver, seeming to have regained his composure from the initial shock. But Levi wasn’t here for a dainty conversation. The unbridled rage pulsing through his bloodstream clouded his vision, almost seeing red.
“Did you know?”
“Levi—”
“Did. You. Know?” Levi hardly ever raised his voice. Usually it was only out in the field or on a mission, and that was only because it was easier to communicate that way. Keeping his bored, flat tones when slicing open the nape of a titan didn’t seem possible.
Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep, defeated sigh.
“Yes. I knew. But Levi, you have to understand—”
“I don’t have to understand jackshit. Don’t you think she’s been through enough? She’s led a life being treated like an animal and now you’re allowing her to be beaten like one?”
“It’s necessary, Levi.”
“It’s barbaric!” Erwin had never heard such venom in his voice. Not even when he vowed to kill him all those years ago. He’d seen Levi’s rage. Witnessed it from afar. The way he tore through flesh like it was paper.
Never did he think he would be on the receiving end. Leaning forward, the blonde folded his arms against the desk, clearly conflicted.
“I know this is a difficult subject for you. You two grew up in the same environment, it would only be natural for you to care for her,” the conniving bastard. Levi borderline snarled at the statement. He did care for you. Deeply. But Erwin didn’t need to know that.
“But please listen. As I mentioned before, ties between the Military Police and the Survey Corps are taut. Any discord between us would cause them to snap. I already tightened them further by not allowing them to execute her publicly. I thought if she joined the Scouts instead, not only would we gain an asset, but she would also be able to survive. That didn’t sit well with Niles. He wants her to pay for what she’s done. If not by death, then by various other methods. This was the only way to keep both parties happy, Levi. Trust me,” Levi was starting to lose what trust he had in the man.
Whilst yes, his explanation made sense, it still didn’t sweeten the blow. How long would this go on for? Would they take you everyday, or just some days? How badly would they hurt you?
As if able to read his mind through his knife-like glare, Erwin continued.
“It’s only for this week. Whilst she’s in her cell. They don’t have permission to permanently damage her, only—”
“Only break her ribs and crack her sternum. Yeah, I saw,” he responded bitterly, folding his arms as he leant against the door. Fuck this. Fuck him. Fuck them.
Levi had never been so conflicted. Whilst the sight of you, beaten and broken, had shattered him, he also knew it was for your own good. It was this, or death.
He didn’t like the second option much.
But the memory of what they had done had burned into his skull. Running his fingers down your prominent, bruised spine. So fragile, but so goddamn strong. Muscles spread disproportionately about your abdomen and shoulders. Your stomach was concave for fuck sakes. And they were still beating the shit out of you.
It made him wonder. If he wasn’t so lucky…
Would he have received the same treatment?
Would he have been thrown in a cell and tortured for a week?
He doubted it.
Erwin waited for Levi to gather his thoughts. Waited for him to say whatever he was going to say next. He had expected Levi to find out. Had expected the man to have some sort of reaction, but nothing quite to this extent. Maybe there really was something deeper between you and him that Levi was keeping to himself.
“So this will continue for a whole damn week?” Levi asked, almost exasperated, running a hand through his obsidian locks. This was a nightmare. All of it. Nobody deserves this treatment. Not even Kenny, but especially not you.
It was Erwin’s slow nod that had his stomach dropping.
“Yes,” he replied quietly. “This will continue for the whole week.”
That was all Levi needed to hear. Whether it was right or wrong, he was powerless to stop it. Turning on his heel and heading back down the halls to his office, he tried to push the images of your broken body and spirit from his mind. Maybe he was hoping you were the same bright eyed, mischievous woman you were before he lost you ten years ago. How had so much changed since then?
How much had you changed so much since then?
He no longer saw that spark of life in your eyes. No longer able to bask in your genuine smile.
If he hadn’t seen so many young, hopeful souls shattered by the paralysing fear of facing a titan, or the desperate heartache of losing a loved one, he’d be surprised.
But he wasn’t. Not at all. Who knows what you have had to do to survive? Who knows just how much of yourself you’d had to sacrifice to get where you are now. But he wouldn’t accept that you were gone.
He would never accept that.
But from the looks of you, only a small fragment of your true self remained. Levi thought he was over being hurt by the changes in people he somewhat cared about.
Maybe he was wrong.
꧁ꨄ꧂
The week was gruelling. Taken from your cell at night and being subjected to both physical and mental torture was one of the toughest things you’ve faced. It was brutal, having to fortify both your mind and body nightly against the blows from the MPs. Sometimes it would change. Sometimes the original four switched out. Sometimes they had an observer. But every time was horrific.
You were sure you’d be dead by now if Levi didn’t visit daily to soothe your broken and cracked bones. If he didn’t ask his monotonous questions, all of which you either responded to with something sarcastic, or silence.
Very few times you actually gave a real answer.
Unlike this time.
“How did you get that scar?” It was always the question he started with. Always wanting to know what happened to you during the time he was away, and that scar down your right eye.
“Don’t you ever get tired of asking that question?” you huffed, tucking your elbows beneath your head.
“Don’t you ever get tired of not answering it?” since you’d seen him everyday since you arrived, you were beginning to relearn all the tells you knew he had, but had changed over time. For example, this smallest lilt in his voice when he found something amusing. He waited for your body to stop twitching as you laughed silently, before resuming the treatment of the damp cloth.
“Not really, it’s fun listening to you get more and more frustrated.”
“As charming as ever, Raven.”
You didn’t know how you felt about him using your alias rather than your name. You knew you’d asked him to, or rather, harshly told him to, but he’d used your actual name a few times since then. But you didn’t want to ask, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.
You let the quiet blanket the two of you, debating whether or not to answer. You’d refused him everyday, but as more time passed, the more you remembered just how much you’d loved him.
“There was a rival gang in the neighbourhood next to ours. Always fighting us for territory or supplies. Honestly, I wanted them wiped out, but Prongs insisted that would make us far too many powerful enemies,” Levi had paused as you started the exposition, genuinely surprised you’d actually decided to give him a full answer, rather that the usual “I entered a sword headbutting contest” or something equally as ridiculous.
“We were at each other’s throats for years, never really landing a solid hit on the other’s gang, until the bastard managed to take one of my Shadows, Diablo, alive. I owed those people everything. They took me in when you—” you managed to stop yourself, but not fast enough for Levi to avoid feeling the gut punching guilt he felt whenever you accidentally mentioned him leaving. You really didn’t mean to, you were just used to talking more openly about it.
“Uh, sorry. Yeah, they took me in, so I owed them a lot. Plus, I’d known them for years by now. I trusted them and they trusted me. I wasn’t about to abandon her,” Levi could hear your conviction and resolve in the cadence of your voice, and silently wondered when you’d become so strong. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed to be treating you badly damaged back, until you hissed slightly. Looking down, he realised he’d pressed a little too hard with the cloth against your tender skin.
“Shit, sorry.”
“‘S’fine. Just concentrate, yeah?” despite your condition, you still had it in you to crack cocky jokes. Levi had half the mind to swat the back of your head with his cloth, but he decided to be merciful.
You left it a beat before you continued.
“Anyway, I didn’t have a choice. But it turns out, all the creepy bastard wanted to do was to make sure everyone knew I wasn’t untouchable. Then maybe we’d stop having smaller gangs ally with us. I let him scar my face, and in return he gave us Diablo back, completely unharmed. It was really fucking weird now that I think about it,” Levi pondered this for a moment, before another question popped into his head.
“What happened to him?”
“Who?”
“The creepy guy, idiot.”
“Call me an idiot again, I fucking dare you.”
“What will you do? You can hardly stand.”
“I don’t need to stand to beat your sorry ass.”
Shit, he’d missed this. This playful banter between the two of you. He’d missed it so goddamn much.
“He found one of my blades stuck in his throat pretty soon after,” Levi grunted in approval, a small smile bloomed across his face at the thought.
Good.
Creepy son-of-a-bitch.
The two of you continued in a comfortable silence for a short while, before your slightly mischievous voice cut through it again.
“Okay, my turn,” you sounded far too nonchalant for his liking, Levi narrowing his gaze to the back of your head.
“Your turn?”
“You’ve been asking me questions for the last few days, and I haven’t asked you one once,” if Levi didn’t know better, he’d say you were almost pouting. He was tempted to turn your head to check, but it seemed you still weren’t entirely comfortable with the whole being touched thing.
He hadn’t asked you about that yet.
“Alright, alright. One question.”
“How come you get countless and I only get one?”
“Call it a Captain’s privilege,”
“Pffft, Captain my ass,”
“Just ask your stupid question.”
You laughed at his feigned frustrated tone, knowing he was loving this as much as you were. You allowed yourself to think about how you wanted to phrase this.
“Are they still here with you? Farlan and Isobel?” you had been slightly hesitant to ask this, since he hadn’t mentioned them once. You didn’t know them personally, only seeing them fleetingly when Levi would usher you into his room, or having sparing conversation with them when Viper sold them that ODM. And judging by his pained silence, you now feared his answer.
“Yes and no,” your question had definitely caught him off guard. He didn’t even think you remembered them, so for you to ask after them was a little out of the blue. Hence why he opted to mimic your response from a few days ago.
You had clearly caught on.
“The hell does that mean?”
Levi realised he probably couldn’t tend to your back and tell this story at the same time. He was going to need all his strength to suppress the torrent of emotions he knew he was about to unlock. Sensing his change of tone, you slowly shifted so you were sitting next to him, making sure you didn’t move too quickly or awkwardly so as to not irritate your painful back.
You searched his features in the silence, partially hidden by the bangs you used to love running your hands through. You couldn’t help but wonder whether or not they were as soft as they used to be.
“It was my fault,” he admitted quietly. You hated seeing Levi like this. You’d only seen him like this once before, when Kenny abandoned him. You vowed you would never let him feel like this again as long as you were by his side.
This is what happens when you’re separated.
“What was your fault?” you gently prompted, not wanting to push him, but rather wanting to let him know that you were willing to listen.
“It was our first expedition. I was naive, agreeing to let them come with us, rather than the original plan which was for me to go alone. Raven, the reason I— the reason we left, was because we were recruited for a job, and killing Erwin Smith was part of that. But none of us knew what to expect beyond the walls. We’d trained but, we didn’t know what to expect when facing an actual titan,” you didn’t press further when he took pauses or longer breaths. You were happy he was comfortable enough with you now to even tell you this. “Everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly, and it wasn’t long before it all went to shit. I lost sight of them when the storm hit, losing them in the fog. I was completely powerless to stop an Abnormal. Shit, I didn’t even know it had passed me. I just saw bodies and limbs everywhere and knew I had to turn back. By the time I got there, it was too late. They were both gone,” Levi’s fist clenched into a ball, taking his focus away from the pain in his chest to the one in his palm. He didn’t even realise his eyes were closed until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under your touch, not quite able to believe how far the two of you had come in such a short amount of time.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Levi,” he didn’t really understand what you were apologising for, or why you felt the need. Afterall, it was him who left you.
“I vowed after that day I wouldn’t have any regrets. Some jackass said that if I did, their deaths wouldn’t mean anything. But I knew I would always have one. I knew I would always regret leaving you behind,” Levi looked to you through his bangs, an expression of guilt etched into his hardened face. You forgave him at that moment. You forgave him for everything.
“I’m here now, aren’t I? And whilst I may not be the same girl you left behind, I still have her memories,” your hand slid from its position on his shoulder to rest over his heart, feeling it flutter within his sturdy ribcage.
Levi faintly wondered if he was dreaming. If you could feel his heart rate increase with every touch.
“That’s why you said yes and no, isn’t it? Because they’re not physically here, but they are here,” Levi could do nothing but nod, his eyes trained on your face like a hawk. He wanted permission. Begged for it through his dark, swirling eyes. Screamed for it in the way his eyes flickered to your lips, your face so close he could smell that scent of freshly baked bread you’d always carried with you, even beneath all the filth. A few centimetres further and you would have what you’d wanted for ten long years. What you both have wanted.
“You sound ridiculous,”
“Your fault,” he could feel the flutter of your breath against his face, wishing nothing more than for you to close the distance.
Levi slowly brought his hand from his lap, his palm rising to cup your cheek.
It didn’t even get close before you flinched, eyes darting to his raised hand.
And just like that, all the tension dissolved. As if you hadn’t been busy getting lost within the storm that were his irises. Levi pulled back, as if he himself had been struck.
“I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking,” he rose from his position next to you, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.
How could he be so damn selfish? It was obvious you couldn’t do anything like that right now. Maybe not ever. And he was getting way ahead of himself. You had already said the girl who loved him was dead, he couldn’t even think how or why he would assume just because your body was present, your mind was as well. Just because he was willing, why would you be willing as well?
Except you were.
So. Fucking. Willing.
And you cursed yourself for these instinctive reactions. Every sudden movement had your mind flashing back to training. Back to Viper’s brutal learning methods. It wasn’t even that much longer after Levi left you were made the Raven. After Viper’s death, it was almost instantaneous. But that didn’t stop those seven months of brutal punishments to leave a permanent scar on your psyche. You wished you could find your voice to reassure him that you’d get over this.
But you couldn’t.
And Levi was once again the first to speak.
“I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow Raven—”
“(Y/N),” you corrected him. After countless times of him calling you by your alias, you didn’t think you could stand it anymore. Levi raised his brow, seemingly a little confused by your interruption. “I’m not The Raven anymore. Technically that title belongs to Prongs now. So it’s just (Y/N),” despite the awkwardness of your recent encounter, you still felt that familiar warmth blossom in your chest at his softened smile, and quietly wonder if anyone else ever saw him smile this much.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N),” you returned his expression, before lying back down on your side. This was your last night in your cell, before you’d be free to join the Scouts. You silently scoffed at the irony of that statement, but nothing could quell your small candle of hope as you listened to Levi’s footsteps get quieter and quieter. Maybe things weren’t so shit up here after all.
꧁ꨄ꧂
“You know, Raven, I’m going to miss our little nighttime meetings,” another harsh blow to your stomach sent you reeling, eyes screwed shut in both pain and defiance. They were trying everything they could to break you tonight. Blood running freely down your abdomen. Fresh bruises now blossoming over the wilted petals of previous nights.
Still you refused to break. Solid walls of spite had erected around your mind, and they wouldn’t be cracked or broken. Not by anything. So you took it. You took your punishment, only opening your mouth to hurl obscene insults or vile curses in their direction. Mocking the way they struck, laughing at their lack of strength. It only resulted in harsher blows, but it was worth seeing the frustration on their faces when you didn’t scream in agony.
“You know who you remind me of like this? I only made the connection a few nights ago. Strung up and beaten like your good-for-nothing father,”
That struck a chord in you. Your eyes flew open, staring at the ground in horror. This is what had happened to him? They had taken him and beaten him? Was he still alive? Was he here somewhere?
The man, who you’d dubbed Dirt, answered all your questions with his next jab.
“A shame he only lasted a few days. You on the other hand… you’re much more fun to play with,” a feral grin sliced through his face as he circled you, drawing back to land three excrutiating blows against your lower back. You grit your teeth, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You didn’t think you had a heart to shatter. You didn’t think any of it remained for it to be broken again.
The MPs had taken two father figures from you.
That grin still adorned Dirt’s face as he went to swing the metal bat again, only to be interrupted by the door behind you opening. Dirt’s eyes narrowed, before whoever it was seemed to please him. God you couldn’t wait for the day where you tore that venomous smile right off his fucking face.
“Captain Ackerman. To what do we owe the pleasure?” you froze. What the hell was he doing here? Why did he always have to arrive during the moments where you really didn’t want him to see you.
But you weren’t expecting to feel a kernel of hope as he spoke.
You weren’t expecting the small smile that etched into your sweat slickened face.
“I was sent to observe. Since she’ll be joining the Survey Corps, I’m here to ensure you don’t break her,” Levi sounded as bored as ever, and you almost huffed a laugh.
Dirt scoffed, in irritation that he wouldn’t get to sever your spine with brute force.
“Very well. However, I must ask you to stand back. She swings like a stallion’s cock sometimes,” If it weren’t directed at you, you would have laughed at the comment. In any other situation, it would have been rather funny.
Just not this one.
Levi had never felt so sick. As soon as he walked in, seeing you strung up like that, helplessly, he had to force down the instinct to rip every one of these torturous bastards to ribbons. He’d never had to have such a tight hold on his emotions in his life, because if that hold slipped…
This would become a blood bath.
“Anyway Raven, where were we?” he asked, though the question was rhetorical. You knew he remembered. He was just trying to provoke a response out of you. But knowing Levi was here gave you a strength you weren’t expecting.
Looking up through your hair, you shot a glare through the thick, matted strands.
“Choke on your own blood, fuckface,” you spat, kicking weakly towards him. It wasn’t the show of defiance you’d wanted, but it seemed to get the message across. You were prepared for whatever consequences there would be for such a demonstration.
The repercussions came immediately. Roughly digging his fingers into your chin, Dirt forced you head up to look at him, his face a picture of mock amusement.
Levi’s jaw clenched.
“Come now Raven. Not trying to impress Captain Levi now, are you?” your eyes flickered over to Levi, his expression unreadable, grey hues trained on the two of you. A rumble of laughter echoed around the chamber as Dirt took in your spiteful expression. “Now I’m left wondering, how somebody like you could come from somebody like your pathetic father. How somebody so defiant, so fucking strong,” —he harshly jabbed at your stomach with the hilt of his bat— “Could be the daughter of somebody so weak,”
“Shut the fuck up,” you rasp, hot fury surging through your veins. How fucking dare he? How dare he insult your father this way. He was a good man. An honest man. He did nothing wrong. Nothing to warrant his or your mother’s death.
“Hm. No, I think I’ll keep talking. This might finally break you.”
“I’ll fucking KILL YOU,” the hook keeping your arms above your head creaked as you thrashed, trying to free yourself to wrap your hands around his goddamn throat.
“You should have heard his cries. His pathetic whimpers as we carved into his flesh. They were… amusing.” No. This wouldn’t be your downfall. You refused. This wasn’t it. You would not be broken by this.
“At least tell me what he died for. At least tell me why you took him, you shit-eating pig!” you spat viciously, trying once again to get free. It was infuriating more than anything. You had so many questions, never knowing why your parents had been killed. Why you came back to your house in disarray, crimson staining the floorboards as your mother’s blood drained from the gash in her throat. Your father, nowhere to be found.
Though he managed to keep his expression neutral, Levi thought back to your father. For the short time he knew him, he was a kind man. He did what he could for the people around him, always feeding those who looked starving. He was convinced that was where you got your compassion from. Why the hell would they take him and torture him?
“Why? He didn’t tell you? Interesting. Your father knew the location of The Nest long before you became our problem. You thought it was a coincidence Viper just happened to take you in? Please, this job was enjoyable enough, don’t make me laugh with your naivety as well,”
“You’re lying. My father was a baker. He was a good man. He wasn’t involved in our criminal shit!”
“Have you noticed a pattern in your life, Raven? Have you noticed how we tried everything to prevent you from falling down this path?” your jaw flickered at Dirt’s tone, mocking you as if they had done you a service.
“We thought your father would introduce you to a life of crime, so we got rid of him for you. When you fell into the care of Viper; well, we got rid of him for you as well,” his smile was snake-like as flashes from that night plagued your mind. Pressed up against the wall as your mentor was savagely dealt with. Begging at them. Screaming at them to stop. To let him go. Only for them to raise a rifle to his head, and paint the wall with his blood.
Dirt imitated a gun with his fingers, putting them up to your forehead.
“Bang.”
Slowly, you stopped thrashing, though the hatred in your veins didn’t cool. You simmered silently, raising your eyes once again. No tears. No sorrow. Nothing but feigned indifference flickered in the low light.
Dirt looked at you for a moment, eyebrows creasing in irritation as he stepped back, twirling the bad in his hands before repeatedly cracking it against your empty stomach. Levi only just managed to control his breathing as he watched helplessly, flinching subtly as every blow connected with your too-skinny body. Clearly Dirt was taking out some intense frustration. He’d just managed to compose himself when the bastard’s eyes turned to him. That fucking smile poisoned his features as he extended the handle of the weapon.
“Captain Levi. She killed a few of your men, did she not? Why don’t you see if you can break the whore?” You almost scoffed in amusement. Levi wouldn’t do that. Not to you. Not after everything the two of you had been through.
You’d finally found each other again.
You were so sure.
You were so sure of yourself.
You were so sure of him.
You’d rekindled that trust over the last week.
You’d rekindled something you thought was dead.
You were so sure.
Until he took the handle.
And the white hot knife of betrayal twisted into your gut once again.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
What the hell was he supposed to do?
Shit.
The weight of the bat felt ten times heavier than anything he’s ever held in his life. The weight of what he was about to do.
Fuck.
As excruciating as this was to watch, he knew it was ten times worse for you. He knew every blow, every crack, was undoing hours of hard work soothing your aches and bruises. Each thud against your body sent jolts of electricity through him. Nerve ends alight with adrenaline, heart beating as if he was about to fight every single one of these bastards just to get them away from you.
Still you have not broken. He couldn’t pinpoint the slight warmth in his chest, couldn’t comprehend what it was. Was he impressed? Surprised?
Proud…?
Levi wasn’t sure if the look of soul shattering betrayal in your eyes was worth it as his hands gripped the cool metal, slightly slickened with your blood.
He would explain it to you.
He would.
Once you were back in your cell, he would tell you why he did it.
But for now, his glare only darkened as he stepped forward. He couldn’t stand the expression on your face. Confused bewilderment, as if trying to work out what he was thinking.
Levi begged you to stop. Stop looking at him like that. Stop trying to work him out because not even he knew if this was the right thing to do.
It was almost a relief when your wide eyes clouded with heartbreaking realisation and acceptance.
A hiss escaped your lips at the first crack. Somehow, this felt more painful than anything those pitiful soldiers could do. Your eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched so hard you were afraid it would shatter into a million pieces.
Each blow felt so precise. So measured and controlled. It stung your heart more than anything else. You’d been betrayed. Again. For the second time in a week. Betrayed by the two people you’d ever loved. Scarlett, who’d picked you up when you were sure nobody else could. Who nursed your broken bones and your broken soul.
And by the first man who ever held your heart.
And truthfully, still did.
Was that all this last week had been?
A ploy just to fuck with you. To earn your trust only to immediately shatter you once again? To break your spirit? Granted, nobody knew the nature of your relationship between you and Levi, but that didn’t matter. The man you loved had just stabbed you in the back.
Again.
So much had happened in the last week. So much had been brought to the surface. It would take years to unpack it all, not that you had any intention of doing that. You just wanted it all gone. To bury it with your fathers. To never think about it again.
You were dragged from your thoughts by a shock of agony sparking up your spine, stemming from your lower back. It was Dirt’s favourite place to attack. Whenever he thought you were being too feisty, too aggressive. He would land as many blows to your lower back as he saw fit.
Admittedly, you doubted Levi knew you’d been snapping back spitefully all session before he arrived, but that didn’t quell the raging fire of hatred as your lips parted without your permission.
A broken cry of anguished agony wracked from your chest, chilling the air of the humid chamber.
Levi froze, horror flashing across his usually schooled features.
He’d broken you.
Levi had broken you.
And with it, any bond he’d managed to salvage over the last week. Any bridge he’d started to rebuild now came crashing down around him.
That one well placed crack had ripped away at your resolve, exposing the tired, hurt, beaten girl beneath.
The room seemed to have stilled. All falling into quiet awe at what had just happened. A slow clap split the stagnant air as Dirt walked up from where he was leaning against the wall. Levi was tempted to turn the bat on him, but he found himself unable to move.
“Your reputation precedes you, Captain. Striking her lower back like that after leaving it to simmer? Genius! We should have asked you to join us earlier,” Dirt cackled in delight as he produced a knife from his pocket. Reaching up, he easily sliced through the ropes binding your hands.
Stone rose up to greet your body as you fell uselessly to the ground, legs too weak to hold you.
“Oh dear. Are you dead? Maybe you and your father had more in common that I originally thought,”
“Enough.” Dirt’s jeering was interrupted by the no-bullshit tones of Levi, causing the soldier to whirl around. He’d finally managed to find his voice, once again reining himself in.
“But Captain Levi, Sir, she’s The Raven. Don’t you think she deserves some extra time with us tonight?”
“If you don’t leave now I’ll make sure it’s you who won’t be able to walk. Go,” you couldn’t tell if this was a blessing or a curse. If he was an angel or a demon.
Actually no, scratch that.
He was a demon, and this was a curse.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as you heard busy footsteps around you, assuming the four horsemen were gathering their effects.
“I do hope you make her crawl back to her cell, Captain. We all know your reputation for cleanliness. It would be a shame to dirty your hands touching this filthy whore,” Dirt drawled one more savage insult, before you heard his echoing steps get further and further away. You hoped the day would never come where you had to see his face again.
The silence in the room now was suffocating. You could both feel the emotions radiating off each other now the MPs were gone. He could feel your loathing, and you could feel his disgust. Or what you thought was disgust. What you assumed was disgust.
How could he not be disgusted? He must be. To do what he just did. You didn’t understand why he would come down everyday and help you if he felt such hatred towards you.
No, that’s a lie.
You did understand.
But that truth hurt so much more than anything else tonight.
It had sowed the seed of doubt in your mind. You knew you weren’t a good person. In fact, to most soldiers and nobles you were a devil. But you’d always clung onto the hope that everything you did was to help people. You stole medicine, you slit the throats of rapists, you provided weapons to those who didn’t have enough to fend for themselves.
There was a small part of you that truly believed you were doing good.
That small part had just been crushed, along with several bones.
Gathering what little strength you had, you extended a limp arm in front of you. Fuck it, you weren’t going to sleep here on a floor soiled by your own sweat, blood and saliva.
You would crawl if you had to.
“(Y/N)...” all he wanted to do was hold you. All he’d wanted to do since he’d found you again was hold you. He’d been so close yesterday, but he’d fucked that up.
Now he was sure you’d never willingly let him hold you again. The bat fell from his hand as if he’d realised it was covered in poison, heart clenching at the way you instinctively threw your arms above your head, terrified of some other attack.
You hated how his voice carried so much comfort. Hated how it soothed your raging mind. God you wanted nothing more than to rip his fucking tongue out and make sure he never spoke to you like that again.
A gentle hand landed on your shoulder, forcing you to stop.
“Get… get the fuck… off me… Get the fuck off me,” you couldn’t fight back as he tucked his arms under your legs and upper back, wincing as he lifted you into his grip. “Don’t… Don’t fucking touch me,” there was no strength left in you to push against him as he carried you back, but that didn’t stop you from weakly hitting the arms that held you.
You didn’t understand. One moment he was savagely beating you, and the next he was cradling you against his chest, holding you close as he took you to your cell.
Laying you down, he hoped you understood why he did what he did. It was a fool’s hope, he knew.
He realised you definitely didn’t understand when you started fighting back.
With a sudden surge of strength, you lunged for him. It was a weak attack, and you didn’t really know what you were trying to achieve as you threw yourself towards him with a cry of anguished rage, but you also didn’t care.
“I fucking trusted you,” you spat in between your flailing limbs. It really didn’t take long for Levi to pin your arms either side of your head, hovering over your body.
“(Y/N), stop,” He tightened his grip on your wrists as you struggled against his hold. It would have been a real test of strength for both of you had you not spent the last week having the life beaten out of you. You were weaker than you’d ever been, and he was taking advantage.
“I was right the first time. You don’t get to call me that. You don’t ever get to call me that. You sick, twisted BASTARD. So that was why you lied to me. That was why you didn’t tell me why you were helping me. You fucking coward, is that all you were doing? Convincing me I was safe with you? Tricking me into thinking you still actually cared about me you filthy fucking LIAR,” you barked a mirthless laugh, baring your teeth in a visceral snarl. “I swear to you Levi, I will not fucking stop until my knife is buried your goddamn THROAT!” you struggled again, twisting as much as you could beneath him, trying to free your arms, your hands, anything that could help you take him down.
He deserved this. He knew he did. Levi looked into the burning betrayal in your eyes and knew he deserved this. He would take every verbal blow you threw at him because he knew he deserved it. But he had to explain. He didn’t care. You could hurl whatever you wanted at him, but he wouldn’t leave until he had the chance to explain himself.
Then he would never see you again.
If that’s what you wanted.
“Just calm down, for a minute, please,” you hadn’t heard him beg like that in a very, very long time. Shit, you fucking hated what it did to you. In this position, your wrists held above your head, his arms caging you in, his legs either side of your hips...
The room suddenly felt far too warm.
“What could you possibly have to say to me? I fucking trusted you. You disgusting son-of-a-bitch. I can’t believe I actually thought—“
Levi finally lost his temper.
“What? You thought what? That just because we found each other again we’d play happy families? Grow the fuck up, Raven,” he spat your alias, finally releasing all the fury he’d pent up. He knew this was a mistake. None of this was your fault. He’d been angry with how you’d been treated. Utterly beside himself at Erwin.
And you were taking the fall for it.
“I didn’t lie to you, I didn’t have a fucking choice. If anyone saw me treat you any differently, they would start to question it. They would question why I was showing pity to a criminal. The Raven, no less. And I can’t—”
“Oh I’m sorry, I would hate to ruin your reputation, Captain,” you struck back with just as much venom. Just as much fury.
“Let me finish. I can’t let them get to you anymore than they already have. It was either them or—”
“Because I’m just so import—” you almost cried out as the grip on your wrists tightened, knowing they would leave yet another bruise on your body.
“Let. Me. Finish.” Levi narrowed his eyes, returning the glare you were holding on him and not continuing until you yielded, finally looking away and clamping your mouth shut. “It was either them or me. I could let them continue to beat the shit out of you mercilessly, or I could do it myself. I could try and make it better. I couldn’t fucking watch that shit anymore. I couldn’t fucking stand it. Those filthy bastards laying their dirty hands on you. Hurting you. Shit, you were half dead when I walked in. I was scared you were for a moment. Terrified they were just beating a corpse. But you’re so much stronger than I ever gave you credit for. They never fucking broke you. And they never will. Because if they touch you again, if they fucking look at you, I will go the the ends of the goddamn earth and tear them apart, because I care about you,” Levi hadn’t noticed he was panting. He hadn’t noticed the tears slipping down your cheeks. He didn’t think his self hatred could sink any deeper, but now he’d made you cry silent tears.
Loosening his grip on your wrists, he looked at you as though he’d been responsible for your murder.
“So, it was mercy? That’s what’s considered merciful up here?” you couldn’t really believe it. Twice in two days Levi had spoken more to you than you thought he ever did back when you belonged to each other. You didn’t think you’d ever sounded so small. So vulnerable. “Let me ask you this, Levi. Was it merciful on me, or merciful on you? Because you sure as hell didn’t make things better for me,” despite the quieter volume, your voice was still harsh.
But you had to know.
You wanted nothing more than to pull him in and thread your hands through his hair. To feel his body against yours. For his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. But you had to know whether he did this for you, or himself.
You understood now. You really did. And put in the same situation, you didn’t think you’d do any differently.
“Honestly…? Merciful to me. I couldn't bear it. I tried. I tried so fucking hard. But I couldn’t let them hurt you anymore,” his voice was no louder than a choked, guilt ridden whisper.
That’s all you needed to hear. Slipping your wrists free of his hands, you reached up. Cupping the sides of his face, you brought him down to you, since you couldn’t exactly sit up and go to him.
As soon as your lips returned home to his, you couldn’t stop the few tears from escaping your closed eyes.
Levi’s own eyes widened, and he was suddenly convinced he was dead. Was this actually happening? After everything he’s just done, everything he’s just said.
You forgave him?
When your tongue gently skirted his bottom lip, he decided contemplating forgiveness was something for later. Terrified of hurting you further, he rested his weight on his elbows, finally closing his eyes. He’d wanted this for so long. Since he laid eyes on you for the first time in ten years, he’d wanted nothing more than to envelop your mouth with his own.
With your eyes closed, you didn’t mind when his hand came up to gently caress the apple of your cheek. You didn’t mind when you opened your lips for his tongue to hesitantly slip in and explore your mouth, that slick muscle moving against yours. You didn’t mind when his hand travelled down to cup the side of your neck, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss.
Neither of you wanted to break away, having waited far too long for this moment. You reveled in the groan he emitted down your throat as your left hand found its way to his undercut, gently scratching and caressing in desperation. You hadn’t heard that sound in so long and you instantly craved more.
Levi’s eyes rolled back into his skull behind his closed lids, feeling your hands in his hair. God, he didn’t want to fuck you in a cell, but your hands and tongue were making it difficult for him to control himself.
He was the first to pull back, instantly missing the warmth of your mouth.
“I don’t understand,” he breathed, looking down into your eyes. You could see the swirling confusion in those sterling orbs as they flickered in the low light. You could see the arousal in his dark pupils. Feel it against your inner thigh. You wanted to take him right here and now, but not only did you acknowledge the fact you were literally in a prison cell…
You weren’t sure you were ready. Not yet. Not after everything.
“Levi… if you had done that for my sake, I would have shattered both your kneecaps,” you earned yourself a gentle laugh, his thumb coming up to smooth down your eyebrow. “But you didn’t. I know you feel selfish, and I know you hate yourself for it, but I also know that it was either that, or you beat them to death with that goddamn bat. I know you, Levi. You haven’t changed much yourself,” your left hand came back, softly carding through those ebony bangs.
Levi felt like he could fly. Felt as though you’d returned the wings he’d lost when he thought he’d never see you again.
(Y/N), I want to apolo—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
With that, you stretched up to capture his mouth again, instantly feeling like you’d come back home. You didn’t care about the surge of pain coursing through your abdomen and back. That’s what he was to you.
He was home.
You felt his length twitch in his constraints as both your hands found purchase in his hair, gently tugging at the black strands.
“Fuck…” he breathed into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily as you sucked his lower lip between your teeth.
You kept having to consciously remind yourself that you are in fact in a dank, filthy cell. And enveloping him between you increasingly slick folds was wildly inappropriate.
Levi thought it was entirely unfair how you were managing to drag whines and moans from him with nothing but your fingers and teeth. So he decided it was his turn to give something back.
His hand travelled down your body, almost instinctively finding the crease in your thighs. He swallowed his own groan of ecstasy as his knuckles grazed his arousal, opting instead to focus on the way your hips rose to meet the pads of his fingers, gently rubbing your swollen, clothed clit. His circular motions drawing out those small whimpers he’d craved to hear.
“Mmn, L-Levi... ACK, fuck!” your moan of pleasure turned into a small cry of pain as your abs contracted, sending yet another lightning bolt through your system. Levi withdrew his hand immediately, eyes instantly clearing and recognising your signs of discomfort.
“Shit (Y/N), your back,” you felt your heart swell at his concern, though internally cursed yourself.
“‘S’fine,” you insisted, rising up once again to grasp his lips with yours, only to be met with thin air and you ex(?) lover looking down at you.
“No, it’s not. C’mere,” Levi sighed and lifted himself off you, careful not to cause you any further damage. He looked for permission before gently turning you on your side, as if your tongue hadn’t been down his throat less than thirty seconds ago. He cursed his erection, finding himself a little hindered by it as he walked over to the faucet, allowing himself a few moments reprieve before removing the handkerchief from his pocket and running it under the tap.
Though the mirror was cracked, he could still see his slightly swollen lips, distorted against the spider webbing fractures. Could still see the mark you’d left on his face. Shit, he wished for those marks to be left elsewhere. His mind wandered back to the way you used to settle between his thighs, teasing him until you got him to crack. He loved the way you could coerce broken pleas from his throat. Adored the black-blue bites you left on the inside of his thighs, before your warmth enveloped him. Your flexible muscle flicking up and down his sensitive length, running over that prominent vein he hadn’t felt you caress in too long. He missed feeling the vibrations of your chuckle when he begged for you to let him cum. When he felt his balls tighten with release, and yet you denied him still.
But most of all he missed tasting you. He missed the way your arousal freely leaked onto his tongue. He missed the way your hips rose to meet his fingers, that breathy gasp when he found your hidden spot. The begs and cries you made when you wanted him to let you cum. When you whined for his dick to replace his fingers. Fuck, he missed the way your thighs locked his head between them as he brought you to climax with nothing but his tongue flicking over you little, sensitive button. Over, and over, and over again.
“Having trouble?” you grinned from your position on the sorry excuse for a mattress. You’d managed to turn yourself over to watch him, disregarding any agony you felt. You wouldn’t miss this for the world. You wouldn’t miss seeing Levi all riled up and unable to focus simply because of the administrations with your mouth.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, turning the faucet off and ringing out the cloth in the sink. You chuckled at his tone and his predicament, loving every second of it. Though you couldn’t miss the small glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Oi, turn back ‘round. ‘Need to get to your back,”
“I bet you do,”
“(Y/N)...” he warned, with no real malice in his tone. If this was any other man, you would have lunged at them for taking that tone with you. But this was Levi. Your Levi. You knew he would never hurt you. Not unless absolutely necessary.
Case and point: hitting you with a bat to avoid a murder charge.
Begrudgingly, you tore your eyes from his face, haphazardly twisting on the mattress to face away from him.
“Hm, good girl,” Levi purred, eyes gleaming at the way your thighs clenched in reaction. But any spark of arousal was swiftly extinguished, when your body twitched away from his as he took his seat behind you.
You clenched your eyes shut, hating yourself for the reaction you couldn’t control. You didn’t blame Viper for your now primal fear. You knew he was just teaching you what you needed to know, but he had no fatherly experience, and possibly caused more harm than good.
“‘M’ sorry, it’s not you, I promise. I just—”
“No. No apologising. It’s not your fault,” you nodded, not trusting your voice not to crack if you spoke up now.
Levi thought hard about how he wanted to do this without causing any more reaction from you. Attempting to keep his mind from wandering too far, he tried to understand what made you comfortable enough to bring him onto your mouth. To gently tug on his lower lip. To thread your hands through his hair and--
“I have an idea… (Y/N), watch what I’m doing,” you did as he asked, turning your neck as much as you could to watch the movements of his hand. You tensed as his palm hovered over your side. But when you didn’t feel anything, you unscrewed one tightly shut eye, peering at him curiously.
“(Y/N), can you raise your body for me, just to reach my hand?” this might actually work. Levi had been wracking his brains for a way for you to feel comfortable again with touch.
Hesitantly, you slowly raised your body to meet his fingers, almost freezing as you felt no reaction. You didn’t tense, you didn’t instantly balk under his touch.
You hadn’t cried in years, and yet throughout the course of this long, long night, you had cried twice, the corners of your lashes growing damp as a tear slipped down the side of your face.
Growing increasingly concerned by your lack of response, Levi was about to move his hand from your side, but was immediately stopped by your own fingers covering his.
“Don’t. Stay. Don’t move away,” his heart burned at your broken plea, his worried expression softening in slight relief.
“I won’t. (Y/N), I’m not going to touch you without your permission. Ever. But, if you’re comfortable with it, we can do this. If you’re happy with this,” Levi gently moved his thumb against the fabric of your shirt, caressing your side. Your choked laugh of happy disbelief caused his small smile to broaden ever so slightly.
“Yes. Yes i’m happy with this,” still having trouble believing this was truly happening, you closed your eyes in bliss, allowing a few more tears to escape.
“Okay, I’m going to move your shirt up, alright?” your heart sung at his sincerity, nodding silently once again as you felt the fabric of your shirt bunch up ever so carefully. You loved how he always made you feel so precious. Nothing was precious in the Underground, but somehow he always made you feel worth diamonds and gold. You’d forgotten what that was like, until the damp cloth once again soothed your aching welts, chasing away the throbs of pain.
Those spears of guilt once again plunged into Levi’s heart as he saw what they had done to you. What he’d done to you. You were always so forgiving when it came to him. You always have been. He could lock himself in his room for days, not speak to you for hours on end and you would always be there to hold him when the pressure finally cracked. Always there to soothe him when he opened up after long weeks of isolation. When those memories of his mother dragged up again. When the day Kenny left forced him to hide away until he couldn’t take it anymore.
You always forgave him.
And could always sense what he was thinking.
He came back to the present when your hand squeezed his, as if you knew where his mind had taken him.
“It’s okay, Levi,” your soft reassurance broke his heart.
“I should be saying that to you,”
“Go on then,” you retorted, not even trying to hide the mischief in your voice
Levi chuckled, moving his hand from under yours to stroke your hair.
“It’s okay, (Y/N),”
“I feel thoroughly reassured,”
“Tch, shut up brat,” god, at this point your heart could have been a choir. Singing once again at the soft amusement gently lacing his tone. But you internally cringed as fingers threaded through your grimy hair, reaching up to move it away.
“Levi, don’t. It’s fucking filthy,”
“So’s your face but I recall sucking on it a few moments ago,”
“Levi!” you couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was never one to make such jokes. But you couldn’t deny you loved it. Loved his low, breathy laugh at your indignant call of his name.
“What? Am I wrong?” you couldn’t see his slightly cheeky smirk behind you. Or the way one brow raised in feigned curiosity.
“Well no, but—”
“Didn’t think so.”
“God you’re insufferable. Anyone would think you’re— OW!” you turned to look back at him in mock anger. He didn’t actually hurt you, and by looking at your swiftly disintegrating expresion, Levi was able to decipher you were just fucking with him. Rolling his eyes, he continued his administration with the cloth, watching fondly as you settled back down.
You only spoke again when that hand in your hair started moving.
“Levi, seriously, it’s gross. Just focus on my back,” when he didn’t reply, you once again twisted back to look at him, unable to decipher the expression on his face.
“Stay here,”
“Like I’m in any condition to move, asshole,”
“Tch, don’t be difficult. I’ll be back in a minute,” with a final caress of your head, Levi chucked the cloth back into the sink before standing to his feet. You were a bit of a sorry sight, lying on your side, shirt ridden up to reveal your bruised, still bloodied back. He’d managed to gently scrub off most of the crimson staining your skin, but he wanted to provide you with just a little more comfort, if he could.
You didn’t even try to escape when he left the door open. Too tired to move. Your limbs felt like lead everytime you attempted to shift, exhaustion clinging to your bones like shackles. You didn’t know how long you waited, but you felt yourself start to drift in and out of consciousness, unable to help yourself marvel at how easy it would be to slip into a deep sleep. Your mind was far too heavy to sift through the lake of emotions you’d found yourself submerged in. Just as you were about to succumb to the call of rest, your faultless alert system brought you back to consciousness, adrenaline injected into your veins as you shot upright at the sound of footsteps.
“Calm down, it’s just me,” your brittle nerves settled at the sound of his calming voice, heart leaping when you saw what he carried in his arms.
Levi had brought everything he thought he would need. A small metal basin containing a small flannel, a wash-cloth, a small cup, the shower soap and hair conditioner from his own quarters and a large towel to spare the mattress of the water. Kicking the cell door almost closed with his foot, Levi crossed to the sink once again, setting out the contents on the cracked porcelain before filling the basin.
He left the faucet running, turning back to you with the town folded on his arm.
“Gonna need you to move if we want to set this down,” you raised a suggestive eyebrow, mouth pulling into a small smirk. Levi rolled his eyes. “Not like that, brat. Unless you want to sleep on a damp mattress. It’s up to you, really,” the amused spark in his eye betrayed his neutral, blank face as you gently shimmied down the bed, making a space for him to set the towel down.
You watched as he removed his jacket, mouth watering ever so slightly as his shirt clung to his back, unable to tear your eyes away from the movement of his muscles. They had certainly developed well.
“Oi, stop ogling,” he smirked to you over his shoulder, earning a sly grin from you in response.
“Can’t help it,” you chimed, eyes flicking to his forearms as he rolled up his sleeves. Fuck, if only you weren’t in a jail cell. Or utterly filthy. Or just not ready for that yet.
If only you didn’t have a thousand things stopping you from pushing him against the wall and engulfing his cock in down your throat.
But for now, you just had to settle with undressing and fucking him with your eyes. Something that clearly didn’t go unnoticed, if the way he writhed slightly under your pinning gaze was anything to go by.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Levi tried to steer his thoughts away from his length stiffening once again. Fuck, the way you were staring at him, he was starting to feel hot beneath his shirt, despite the naturally cool temperature of the room. Your heated chuckle only fueled the flames.
“Aw, why? Are you hard?” you teased, raking your eyes up and down his figure, lingering on the small tent in his crotch. You shifted slightly, almost groaning as the mattress below you rubbed against your swollen folds.
“Tch, obviously. And I’m not going to deal with it in this filthy prison cell, so don’t make it worse brat,” Levi marvelled at your laugh. A proper, head thrown back laugh. He couldn’t stop the fond smile spreading across his face at the sight.
“Alright alright, I’ll stop eye-fuckinig you,” you managed to say, after regaining some sort of composure.
“You’re filthy,”
“Isn’t that why you’re about to bathe me?” you tilted your head slightly, watching him lift the basin from the sink after turning off the faucet. He didn’t deem your comment worthy of a response, opting instead to look back at you with a blank, deadpan expression. Tucking everything else under his arm, Levi returned back to your side. He thought for a moment about how he wanted to do this before, wedging the water basin between his legs.
“Lie back, place your head on my lap. Gonna’ wash your hair,” he instructed, busying himself with getting the small, brown bottle of hair soap. But he paused upon sensing your hesitation. Looking back to you, he searched your face, before slowly bringing his hand up.
You shied away, closing your eyes instinctively, almost bracing yourself for the contact that never came.
“Hey, not gonna touch you without permission, remember?” you opened your eyes to see his hand hovering next to your cheek. He was waiting for your next move, and you could see the slight hopeful spark in his eye.
So slowly, you tilted your head enough to gently nuzzle into his palm, your own hand coming up to keep him against your face.
Levi smoothed the skin under your eye with his thumb, trying his damndest not to let any tears well up in his eyes.
Unbeknownst to him, you were attempting to do the same. Not wanting him to see you cry for the third goddamn time tonight. But it became impossible when he said something you didn’t know you needed to hear.
“I missed you so much, firefly,” your breath hitched in your throat at the old nickname. He’d only ever use it in the softest moments in the Underground. Stroking your hair whilst lying in his bed. Staying up and keeping you company when you’d shoot awake from a nightmare. He was never one for nicknames, so one day when he, out of the blue, called you his firefly;
you’d almost cried.
Your eyes widened, hand gently squeezing his own to ground yourself. You let out something halfway between a laugh and a sob.
“I missed you too. So, so much,” you hardly had to move forward before your face was nestled in the crook of his neck, his arms slowly tucking you against his body. “I missed you so much,” you whispered again.
Levi didn’t think he’d ever been this happy, at least not for a long, long time. Ecstatic you felt comfortable enough to let him hold you. Though he was usually so good at keeping his feelings to himself, so much had happened over the last week, he felt the walls to his emotional dam cracking ever so slightly, a few tears lining his closed eyes. He could feel the collar of his shirt dampen as you shed silent tears, his thumb rubbing small circles against your back.
Levi held you like this for what felt like hours. Content to just be in each other’s arms once again. In reality, it had only been a few minutes before he gently shifted you so the back of your head rested against his lap.
“Never known you to be such a cry-baby,” he lightly teased, gathering what he could of your hair and soaking it within the basin still wedged between his knees.
“I’m not. I haven’t cried in years. Literally. Probably since Viper’s—” you stopped yourself, not expecting the casual statement to hurt quite as much as it did. “Viper’s death,” you finished quietly, eyes avoiding any direct contact with his own.
Levi took note of your tone change, reaching for the hair soap. He was only vaguely aware of the relationship between you and the old Nest leader. Finding out through those vile MPs.
“Want to talk about it?” The tone of his question matched yours as he lathered the gel into your now cleaner locks to make sure the grime and grease was properly dealt with.
“Honestly? Not yet. Maybe not ever. I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. Not even Prongs, or Wolf, and they were his Shadows before mine,” you fell silent for a moment, before looking back to him. “How did you do it? How did you just… leave everything behind?”
Levi sighed at the innocence of your question. The raw guilt he knew you were feeling. Knowing you were up here, safe, warm, comfortable, whilst so many people down there were still suffering. Still dying from easily preventable illnesses.
“I didn’t. Not really. I still find myself thinking back to those poor sods down there. But I couldn’t think about it for too long, because I would find myself thinking back to you,” his hand stroked the top of your now damp forehead, smoothing down the wet locks of your hair.
The basin sloshed slightly as you nodded, disheartened by the fact that this feeling of suffocating guilt would probably never leave you. Levi saw this in your face. He saw the exact same swirl of emotions he felt when he knew he would never return.
But you’d left behind so much more than he did. You had a trusted group. A family who would only know what happened to you through the words of that young girl.
“They’ll be safe, (Y/N). He may be an asshole sometimes, but I trust Erwin. He wouldn’t break his word,” running his hands through your soaked hair, Levi gently teased the knots out with his fingers, easily gliding through the now freed strands.
His reassurance calmed your worries. Levi hardly trusted anyone, you only ever knew him to trust Isobel, Farlan and yourself. This Erwin guy must have really made an impression.
Reaching back to the small flannel he’d brought down with him, he began drying your hair, setting the basin to one side. You didn’t think you’d ever felt this pampered. This well looked after. You thought you could certainly get used to it. Returning your thoughts to the conversation, you exhaled a sigh.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just… My job was to take care of them. My job was to stop something like this from happening. Our entire operation was compromised because my shitty partner couldn’t get over some grudge she had against a boy she’d never met,” you poked his chest as he rolled his eyes, looking down at you with a brow raised.
“So it’s my fault?”
“I didn’t say that,”
“You implied it,”
“Oh don’t be so sensitive,”
“I wasn’t the one who cheated,”
You almost sat bolt upright at that, if it weren’t for him anticipating the movement. What did he mean ‘cheat’? You didn’t cheat. You would never cheat. Loyalty ran through your veins like blood, and if you weren’t so incredulous you would have spotted the smallest hint of mischief in his steely eyes.
“Wh— Cheat? I didn’t cheat. What makes you think that?” your genuine concern broke his heart, and he almost felt bad for teasing you like this.
Almost.
Taking your face in both his hands, Levi failed to suppress the fugitive smirk on his face.
“We technically never broke up, brat,” you breathed a sigh of relief, before turning back to scowl at him, tempted to lightly smack the back of his head.
“Don’t fucking scare me like that, asshole,” your scowl held no heat, too relieved that he was just being pedantic rather than actually implying you would ever be disloyal. But your glare melted away at the rumble of a chuckle emitting from his chest. You rolled your eyes, trying your best to feign annoyance and failing miserably.  
Removing the small towel from your now damp hair, Levi deemed it dry enough for you to sleep on without catching a cold.
“There. Think you can do the rest yourself? I don’t wanna… make you uncomfortable or anything,” it was your turn for your heart to break, his consideration for your comfort and wellbeing always seemed to be his top priority. You took his hand in yours, gently stroking your thumb over his knuckles.
“You’ve done more than enough,” earnest gratitude swam in your eyes and it was all Levi could do not to stoop down and kiss you.
Instead, he stayed put for a little while longer, stealing all the seconds he could. He’d realised, with you joining the Survey Corps, you two wouldn’t be able to do this anymore. The company you’d both enjoyed for the past week would be ripped away by expeditions, training and paperwork.
So he greedily took as much time as the two of you could spare, before you would inevitably have to part ways.
“I have to go, (Y/N),” Levi whispered, although every part of him was longing to stay, especially when your face slowly fell in realisation.
“I know,” you tried to mask your melancholy with a gentle smile, but your voice betrayed you, breaking slightly as you spoke. Neither of you wanted to be the one to move. Neither of you wanted to be the first to burst the protective bubble of familiarity you both knew you wouldn’t feel again for a long, long time.
But to save him from doing it himself, you were the one to shift, allowing him to rise from the bed.
“I’ll uh, leave all this here and collect it early in the morning,” Levi shifted slightly awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his hair. You nodded, adjusting yourself carefully. Your midsection didn’t hurt as much, more of an echoing throb, but you were still cautious nonetheless.
“Right, yeah. Probably a good idea, before anyone sees,” you shrugged, avoiding having to look at his face. You knew it would break both of you if you’d asked whether there was any chance of him staying.
Just for a little while longer.
“I’ll see you soon… Raven,” you felt your soul crack as he replaced your name with your alias. You knew it was right. You knew it was for the best. But that wouldn’t stop every fiber of your being shattering.
Levi hated how you said nothing as he turned to leave. He pretended not to notice your heartbreak as he deliberately called you Raven. He suppressed the urge to pick you up and take you with him. To carry you to his bed and cage you in his arms as you both fell asleep in each other’s embrace.
He didn’t know your prolonged silence was because you were gathering your courage. Silently arguing with yourself over what was right and what was wrong until you stopped him by calling his name.
“Levi…” There was no turning back now. You took a breath, finally raising your eyes to meet his now on the other side of the bars. “I—” love you.
You immediately stopped yourself, finding those three words caught in your throat. You couldn’t say them. Shit, you couldn’t say them.
You were a coward.
“Thank you,”
Levi stayed searching your face. He knew. He knew that wasn’t what you wanted to say. Because that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He let loose a breath he didn’t know he was holding, giving you one last look of badly masked longing, before turning away.
“Training starts tomorrow,” though the words themselves were cold, his tone was laced with mourning as his footsteps echoed out of earshot, leaving you completely and utterly alone.
Levi had managed all but three steps into the hallway before his name was called by an irritatingly familiar voice.
“Ah, Levi. Good. My office. Now, if you’re not busy,” Erwin had a way of saying ‘if you’re not busy’ that sounded like he was really saying ‘there is absolutely no debate in this, you could be bleeding out and missing an arm and I would still expect you in my office within the next five minutes’. Levi knew he didn’t exactly have a choice.
“Sure. Let me make some tea and I’ll be right there,” he knew he’d made a mistake. The look in Erwin’s cerulean eyes told him that the tall blonde had figured something out. Something dangerous that could compromise his relationship with you.
Actually, he’d probably figured out he had a relationship with you.
Shit…
He was in so much trouble.
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