#its hard chosing how to react. how to read expressions.

[lesbianfakir]

Thinking about this post and can we talk about how important it is that fakir was okay with Duck not loving him back?

I think it’s fair to say it’s pretty heavily implied that he’s in love with her, and it’s explicitly confirmed in the guidebook.

While Duck’s feelings for him are more nebulous and hard to pin down, from his perspective she’s in love with Mytho. We as the audience know she doesn’t actually feel that way about Mytho but from Fakir’s perspective everything she’s done so far has been for Mytho. She admitted to him in episode 12 that she had feelings for mytho and there has been nothing to dissuade him from this line of thinking. In fact, he finds her crying because mytho chose rue.

There’s this little moment I like. When Duck tells him mytho has chosen rue as his princess his eyes narrow ever so slightly.

[ID: two screenshots of Fakir from episode 25. In the first he is looking at Duck (off camera) with a serious expression. In the second he narrows his eyes slightly. End ID]

He REACTS to this news, even if it’s subtle. And he doesnt look happy about it. Fakir is upset that Mytho rejected Duck. And this seems so antithetical from what we come to expect from a romantic subplot.

So the girl he loves loves someone else… and he’s okay with that. He never tries to pressure or guilt Duck into being with him. Hell he never even mentions his feelings. She likes someone else so what’s the point. But this never dissuades him from his devotion to her. He doesn’t give her an ultimatum or make her choose. He doesn’t even seem get upset that she loves someone else. Even when she goes back to being a duck destroying his last hope of being with her romantically, even then he never wavers. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her. Whether that’s as friends or as partners or as just a simple boy and a duck, he wants to be with her. How she feels for him doesn’t matter so much as getting to share his life with her.

And I find this such a refreshing spin on tired romance tropes. “Just friends” looms large in our media so it’s lovely to see a boy in the so called “friendzone” who’s okay with it. Beyond okay he treasures the time he spends with Duck. His affection for her doesn’t hinge on reciprocation.

It’s so common for characters in fakir’s archetype to grow angry or sad that they’re not “the one,” often lashing out at the girl who doesn’t return their feelings. But instead we have Fakir who’s perfectly content to stay Duck’s friend. After all, being her friend is a gift in itself.

I just love to see a platonic relationship not treated as a lesser stepping stone to a romantic relationship. Sure, Fakir has feelings for Duck. But that in no way undermines the friendship they already have. It’s treated with all the gravity usually reserved for romantic relationships. They’re going to spend their lives together and whether that’s as friends or as lovers—that part isn’t important.

I’m tired of media treating friendships like they’ve suddenly become worthless when one party develops feelings and the other doesn’t return them. With fakiru, the lovely part is that their relationship is built on such a strong foundation it can stand on its own. We the audience are free to interpret it as romantic, platonic, or something in between, but with any reading their close friendship forms the centerpiece.

[lilpunkrock]

Hey, its me again, the angst anon! I just wanted to take advantage of the Halloween vibe to leave this in the imagination: show up in a big bad wolf costume and try to convince Jack to be Little Red Riding Hood. How do you think Jack would react?

Angst Anon!! Hello! I LOVE this prompt/idea SO much. I had a little spare time at work today, so enjoy a little Halloween-themed post-Halloween drabble. :)

Primal

Read Primal’s counterpart, “Devour,” here.

As you waltz into the living room, Jack affixes you with a dead-pan stare. “Ah, mi cariño, what are you wearing?” 

You glance down at the floral-print nightgown covering your furry gray onesie with feigned innocence. When you raise your head to meet his gaze, the wolf ears on your headband turn askew. You raise one gloved hand, adorned with gray fur and fake claws, to straighten them. You shoot him a mischievous grin, offering a glimpse of the plastic fangs in your mouth. “What does it look like I’m wearing? I’m The Wolf.” 

“No, no, no.” Jack’s dark brows furrow tightly as he rises from the couch and walks toward you, waving his hands emphatically. “When we chose these costumes, I thought I was going to be the wolf. I mean, it’s kind of obvious, is it not?”

“I know, I know. But wouldn’t it be nice not to be the wolf for once?” You draw the Party City bag you’ve been hiding out from behind your back, extending it to him. “Besides, this costume is way too good to pass up.” 

Jack takes the bag from you slowly, his olive green eyes reluctantly curious as he rifles through the bag. When he reveals a lace-up bodice and bright red skirt from within it, his cheeks go a shade of crimson that puts Little Red’s hooded cape to shame. You suppress a snicker behind one gloved hand as he hastily shoves the costume back in its bag. Damn, he was too cute when he was flustered. “No, mi cariño. No way. I won’t do it. Come on, trade me.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him, taking a swift step to the side when he tries to swipe the fake paws from your hands. “You really think you can make a better Wolf than me?” 

The look on Jack’s handsome face is incredulous. His wide, expectant eyes and slack jaw scream, ‘Obviously.’ With a tone that is equal parts exasperated and humored, his voice echoes the same, “Obviously.” 

You flash him a dazzling grin. “Let me prove you wrong, then.”

Jack gives no protest save for a sigh as you draw the hooded cape from within the shopping bag around his shoulders. You swiftly tie it at his chest and slip the hood over him. As you card your fingers through the salt-and-pepper hair by his ears and forehead, guiding each lock into place with care, his hesitant expression softens. You step back, admiring your handiwork with a pleased grin. “Alright, let’s practice. I’ll show you how good a Wolf I can be. Go on, say the lines.”

For a moment, you’re really not sure he’ll do it. Jack’s pensive gaze flickers over your face, watching you intently, as if to see if he can wait you out. When you don’t budge, he finally sighs. “Ay, Dios mío. Fine. Ah…abuela, what big…ears you have?” 

You flash him a fanged grin, lifting your clawed hands to wiggle your fake ears at him. “Ah, the better to hear you with, darling,” you say in the deepest, most guttural voice you can muster. 

Though he tries to hold it in, Jack outright snorts at your attempted impression. His laughter reveals a glimpse of the slight crook in his grin–your most beloved possession. You smile in turn. Humor was the way to Jack’s heart, and boy, were you dedicated to delivering. “Well? Keep going,” you growl at him, trying to stay in character. 

Jack draws in a shuddering breath, seeking to swallow his laughter. He pulls his lips into a hard line, composing himself. “Right, right. Lo siento. Ah, abuela, what big eyes you have.” 

Fully committing to the bit, you begin to circle him, watching him with wide, attentive eyes. “Ah, the better to see you with, darling.” 

Jack rotates slowly, trying to keep up with your prowl. “But, abuela, what large hands you have.” 

As he turns, one of his socked feet steps onto the Party City bag on the floor, throwing him off balance. You reach out quickly, planting one clawed hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Oh, the better to hold you with, darling,” you growl, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

Jack quirks a questioning brow at you, a challenge sparking in his olive eyes. “Isn’t it supposed to be ‘hug?'” he jests, poking at your gowned chest. 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You really think it’s a good idea to talk back to the Wolf, mincemeat?” 

Jack gifts you an adorably lop-sided grin, one that sends your heart fluttering right out of your chest and into his hands. Sometimes you really felt more creature than human in his presence. It astounded you how the sweet, honeyed sound of his voice could rid all logical thoughts from your brain; how one look from him could turn your bones to jelly; how a brush of his skin against yours could reduce you to nothing but molten heat and primal need. Sometimes, you felt as if the only thing in this world that could ever be enough to satisfy you would be to open up your soul and swallow him whole. 

Jack breathes a soft chuckle, coaxing you back to yourself. “No, of course not, mi cariño.” He raises his hand to cup your cheek tenderly, a touch you instinctively lean into. With a small, pleased smile, he draws the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. His pace agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You swallow thickly, your throat suddenly dry. “Mi cariño…what a big mouth you have.” 

There is no world beyond his olive eyes, the warmth of his breath on your face, the searing touch of his thumb on your lips. “The better to kiss you with,” you whisper quietly. 

Though it’s Jack who makes the first move, dipping his chin and drawing you closer, you meet him in the middle with equal fervor. Your bones sing at the press of his lips against yours, a song so loud and clear you’re sure he must hear it. As his thumb finds the tender hollow behind your earlobe, liquid light pours into your soul, filling you up, up, up until your skin shines with it. When his tongue glides over the fake wolf’s teeth in your mouth, a deep rumble purrs in his throat. Your lips lift in a smile as you kiss him greedily, stealing the laughter straight from his mouth and locking it up in your heart, a treasure you will forever keep. You may not be able to open your soul up and swallow him whole…but this feeling…Well, this would suffice. 

When you finally part for breath, Jack dips his face into the crook of your neck, burying his nose into your collarbone. As he draws in a deep, savoring breath, you card your fingers through his hair, grazing your fingernails over his scalp. “So, how did I do?” you ask with a soft, pleased smile.

Jack burrows his face deeper into you. You can feel his grinning lips even through the fabric of your costume. “You did well, mi cariño. So very scary.” 

You chuckle quietly, kneading at the spot behind his ear affectionately. “So, you’ll let me wear the costume?” you ask, your voice tentatively hopeful. 

Jack gives one final nuzzle before he draws himself away from you. When his gaze meets yours, his olive eyes are bright and amused. You beam up at him, sure of his answer before he even gives it. “Ay, mi loba pequeña, you have won me over. But next year, I am picking the costumes.” Jack bends to snatch the Party City bag off the floor. When he pulls the bodice and skirt from within it, his eyes flick up to look at you insistently. “And we are going to have to find some tights for this, mi cariño, or we are going to have un problema muy grave.” 

. . .

Translations:

"Mi cariño" — "sweetheart," "my darling"

"Ay, Dios mío" — "My God/my goodness"

"Abuela" — "Grandmother"

"Mi loba pequeña" — "My little wolf"

"Un problema muy grave" — "A very serious problem"

. . .

Taglist: @h0wv3ry @the-ginger-draws @howlingco @ratisshortforratalia @safeikik @russell-ed @emilynightshade89 @mobiusismyfav @thepjofanqueen @couldnt-come-up-with-a-username @girlymusiclover09 @vigilantefucks @starfirette @scarletghost22

[iwanttofuckereh69]

now reading 2ha vol 2

ch 55 - 71

… but the careless thought would fly through his mind and soon be lost, like the drizzle of rain falling into a deep pond.

Mo Ran’s entire existence put into words perfectly

1. now im sad 😭

Ahhh the way Shi Mei’s death is described is gut wrenching. I was so sad reading that. But yeah, at least there are more details to what happened. It seems like Chu Wanning couldn’t do anything to save him that day. Or rather, he had to choose. I feel like if he tried saving Shi Mei, he wouldn’t hold the barrier. So he chose, faithful to his principles. It ties to Chu Xun’s sacrifice that seems to be supposed to show how hard of a decision it must have been both on Chu Xun and Chu Wanning. My guess is Mo Ran either didn’t realize at the time that CWN had to choose one over the other or he couldn’t understand why he would sacrifice his disciple to protect all those people he himself doesn’t care about. 

But damn that description hurt. Mo Ran’s heart was truly aching. And that comparison to a snowflake, equally beautiful and equally unimportant. Ehh

@thegreymoon if this is "moderate and usual amount of suffering" then i dont know if i want to continue!!!!

(jk, i like when it hurts 🙂)

2. Chu Wanning is even more awkward than i was in high school which should be considered an achievement

Tbh I like moments of Mo Ran’s longing for Chu Wanning. And how he reacts when he sees Chu Wanning finally after all this time CWN spend “in seclusion”. Its lovely, but also hes so dumb for not realizing. This whole whatever was going on between them during New Years Eve celebration was just lovely but also so awkward. Chu Wanning deliberately giving him a copper coin dumpling? Absolutely cute. But also so awkward and just 😬 Instead of finding thousands of weird ways to flirt maybe just tell him? Idk its an outrageous idea, but idk give it a try maybe?? And omg that awkward moment when he wanted to invite mo ran to watch fireworks but… yeah. I felt it in my bones. 

3. Breaking news, Mo Ran, despite being 32 yo in 16 yo body mentally somehow ended up being 5

Sometimes it feels to me as if mo ran desired CWN not as a person but as an object. And he is even comparing him to an ugly box that nobody wanted with perfectly fine food inside. An ugly box only he himself dared to open to discover the treasure inside. And he is so childishly jealous when now that box is on display for everyone to look at. Its almost silly. But also yeah, its another time he treats CWN more like a thing he owns. And nobody else should see any worth in that thing, because its only his to consume. There is a fine expression in my native language for a person like that, and funny enough, its also dog related. But I couldn't find any translation that would convey all the nuisance. It’s for a person that won’t let anyone else enjoy a thing even if they themselves have no intention of enjoying that thing either. It reminded me of this quote:

Eventually, like a beast, he had known only one thing: that Chu Wanning was his. Even if he didn’t care for Chu Wanning, he was still his to sunder and to ruin. 

And like… Right now, Mo Ran seems to me like an annoying jealous kid that wants CWN for himself out of pure spite. Because CWN never gave MR attention he thought he was owed or that he deserved. I want to punch him just a bit.

4. Shi Mei is totally Chu Wanning’s wingman

Like he always tries to show Mo Ran that CWN isnt all that bad XD And I won’t believe he didn’t realize after all those completely awkward confessions and random hand holdings that Mo Ran has feelings for him. Like I won’t believe he wouldn’t see right through him especially on that boat. And I think he is smarter than MR and saw that CWN isn’t indifferent to Mo Ran after all. I want to say he would be happy if they’d get together but BASED ON COMMUNITY’S REACTIONS i feel like i will look like a clown lol. But oh well thats my very biased impression of Shi Mei. 

@rosemary-screams

Never back down never what? NEVER GIVE UP!

Also it dawned on me while reading that you’re totally right @02cm, Mo Ran totally is wasting his chances with Shi Mei. I mean it happened before but that boat scene striked me as so annoyingly obvious. Like, he knows Shi Mei dies after he gets back from that “summer camp” in peach blossom springs. Its not gonna be long till that day and he can’t be sure it won’t happen again. And he is waiting around, unable to express his feelings that he was supposed to be so sure of. Is it… perhaps… a live showcase of Mo Ran’s only two brain cells almost connecting? Almost! Not quite there yet, but we’re on the right path. 

5. This book makes me feel disdain towards the characters and then feel bad for them in the matter of chapters njnjgviuvnjuigi im not well

I'm so heartbroken with the story of how Mo Ran was punished when he tried to steal the haitang flower for Chu Wanning because he had a crush on him. And CWN never let him speak and explain himself and punished him instead. I mean it’s kinda understandable but it makes me sad knowing that MR had such pure intentions... Also, that bedtime story about ox… Mo Ran sees himself in that boy? Because it seems like he always took the beatings no matter if he deserved it and nobody was kind enough to actually listen? And it seems like it will happen again now that he's being framed for murder.

6. Me when MR gave Xia Sini butterfly hair clip and made his hair:

THIS HAS NO REASON TO BE SO CUTE. Also i'm actually enjoying that smol Chu Wanning arc despite being weirded out at first. It gave CWN opportunity to be more relaxed around MR and the rest. And just like he can enjoy sweets as much as he wants without having to worry about losing his face, he can also just chill a bit because oh boy, my guy needed it so much

7. Someone really dislikes Mo Ran and is actively plotting his demise (which im not even surprised with). It’s either someone he already managed to wrong after reincarnating or someone of those many, many people he offended in his past life that somehow also got reincarnated into the past. What are the odds?!

Also, if Chu Wanning and Chu Xun are related (rather closely given how they look alike) and Chu Xun died and Chu Lan died and it seemed like there wasn’t anyone left out of their bloodline… how. Also what’s the self sacrifice gene because it clearly runs in this family. 

[vacantgodling]

1, 2, 6, 7, 14, 16 for Amon and Hya pls? Also 1 for as many characters as you want bc that is such a good question

you are my favorite bc you're cool and you always ask me about my boys bless 🙏

1. does your oc have any motifs

i'm gonna start by saying i'm so shit at motifs and symbolism in conscious thought, however off the top of my head:

amon: gloves, his scars, the color black, kneeling

hya: white and gold (and especially his gold canines), RINGS, small rooms and being locked in or out of places

2. describe your character's voice. do they have a voice claim?

amon: due to the scars on his neck fucking up his vocal box since he was young tm, amon's voice has a rasp to it, and its almost breathy? in a way. however, it's in a lower tenor register. when he drops his voice an octave it has a natural husk to it that is supremely hard to ignore, and he doesn't tend to raise his voice often bc it hurts his throat. he has the pleasant customer service voice 100% mastered and tbh his voice annoyed hya A LOT when they first met lmaooo however, as they got to know each other more and amon began to drop his voice around hya when they flirted it awakened some things lmao. bc of his rasp his voice tends to growl when he's angry but it's not common to hear.

hya: oh its deep, full bodied and commanding yet its flat because of the indifference and aloofness that hya usually sports. you can feel it rumble when he raises his voice, will probably send a shiver down your spine. he doesn't tend to inflect in his tone too much, but as he opens up more (in general and to amon especially) his voice tends to become more expressive, but it doesn't really change in pitch too often. if i were to compare it to a food it'd make me think of a dark chocolate red wine reduction; the alcohol is the command and the firmness, the chocolate is the smoothness.

6. what is the thing your oc likes the least about themselves?

amon: his self doubt? amon seems proud to those who don't know him but he actually sees and views himself as very weak and every action he takes just tends to prove himself right; that he doesn't deserve anything good because he himself is not good enough. he doesn't dwell on it too often, but when he thinks about things like his appearance and the scars he hates, the forced pleasant demeanor bc he's too low down in society to be anything but, even his anger seems trivial when so many others aren't as bothered as he is. he just doesn't feel like he's worth anything yet while he's not really proud, he can't really bear to hurt his own ego by thinking about it. so he doesn't.

hya: genuinely he's too proud to admit that there's things he doesn't like about himself. he blames everyone else other than himself for most of the problems he experiences. however, because i live in his head i can tell you he really dislikes how he handles emotions. though, not in the way you're thinking, he wishes that he didn't feel anything at all and gets annoyed with himself for reacting to things in anger or fear or otherwise. he doesn't like other people knowing that they have the power to get a rise out of him, and his impulsiveness when he gets backed into a corner is one of his biggest weaknesses that tagetes has used against him again and again and again. he hates it so much. but why acknowledge that when you can buy new clothes amiright?

7. what is the thing your oc likes the most about themselves?

amon: his ability to read others and his fighting prowess

hya: his appearance lol. like its lowkey very shallow but he really prides himself on it.

14. An embarrassing secret about your OC?

amon: he didn't learn how to read until he was 16. not really 'embarrassing' because he grew up in the slums and most of his companions didn't learn how to read or have a bare bones knowledge of it, however, i think he's just embarrassed that he chose not to learn by choice lmao.

hya: he rarely gets embarrassed by anything tbh esp as an adult. as a child/teenager, i think he's embarrassed by the first time he met his elder siblings (meaning tagetes, iberis and narcissus) and he thought that they could potentially get along and that this could be a better chapter in his life. he was wrong :)

16. how does your OC feel about their parents?

amon: didn't know his bio parents. he was adopted when he was around 10 into a moderately well off family, but he ran away back to the slums when they wanted to change his name lol (idk if you've seen anything about the role swap au, but if amon had stayed with that family his legal name would've been coriandrum farrah)

hya: hated his father (but all the siblings hate clematis gunn we hate that useless sack of shit glad he's dead lol) and he never met his mother so as far as he's concerned he has no parents lol.

[moemoemammon]

im so sorry i dont know how to format this but could i request hcs of mc walking into one of the brothers rooms in the middle of the night and being like “um i had a nightmare.. can i stay with you”🧍if not its okay though!! :]

I Had a Nightmare...

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer always keeps his door locked when he's asleep, so you took a gamble in choosing to come to him for your post-nightmare comfort. Luckily, the eldest is a night owl so he's awake.

He looks up when you enter his bedroom, currently sitting on his bed and reading a book. He's about to scold you when he sees the face you're making.

You don't even have to tell him something's wrong, because he can tell. He sets his book aside and gestures to the empty side of his bed.

Once you climb in, Lucifer shifts slightly, just so your arm is pressed against his own. It's like an invitation for you to lean in if you want, and should you choose to, he'll wrap you in his arms and carefully rub your back.

"A nightmare, hm? It's interesting to think that there are things that can scare you, considering where you are right now. But there's nothing for you to be afraid of. After all, I have no intention of letting anything bad happen to you, so long as I live."

Mammon

Mammon startles awake the moment you enter his room, nearly toppling out of his bed in the process. Grrr, he could've seriously gotten hurt! What're you trying to pull, suddenly barging into his room like th-

Oh. Oh.... He takes one look at your face and all that anger of his fizzles out into nothing. He's a little self conscious being shirtless and all, so he awkwardly tugs on a tshirt that's been tossed to the floor, and makes his way over to you

What happened? Did someone do something?? Ah.. a nightmare, huh? Mammon's big brother instincts are taking over, and he's pulling you into a tight hug, squeezing out all your worries.

And when he's finished, he ruffles your hair and gestures to his bed. A human like you still needs to get their rest, so you should try to sleep some more. But if you really can't, he's not against the idea of the two of you bundling up and watching a movie or something.

"You're like a little kid, ya know? But don't worry, the Great Mammon's gonna chase away those bad dreams o' yours, no problem! ...Hah? Whatdya mean 'that's cheesy'?? I'm being serious here!"

Levi

Levi's definitely awake when you enter his room, but he doesn't notice you. His computer monitor has his undivided attention, and his headphone are drowning out the sound of your entry.

So it takes you tapping his shoulder for him to react, and boy does he react. Levi nearly has a heart attack and only calms down when he realizes it's only you. Did you come to play games? You should've texted him and he’d set everything up! But wait... that's not it?

You had a nightmare and of all the places you could go, you came to HIM?? Levi's having a hard time pushing down the grin on his face, but he collects himself for your sake. Now's no time to be feeling giddy when his best friend is in need!

He might not be great at comforting people, but he knows what helps him when he has nightmares. So he wraps you up in a blanket and pulls up a chair for you to use so you can watch him game. This is better than thinking about that other stuff, right?

"I'll turn down the screen brightness, and- UWAH! W-wait! Um... no, it's fine. I don't mind if you lean against me like that. You're tired, so it's probably more comfortable like that. I'll keep still, okay..?"

Satan

Nightmares aren't something Satan experiences often, being born of rage and the only pure demon in the house. He reads enough horror novels that he's practically become immune to anything scary.

But that doesn't mean he never has bad dreams, so when you come into his room to tell him about yours, his expression softens up. You caught him in the middle of reading, but you're more important than any silly book.

Satan gives you that warm look he reserves only for you (and cats), and gestures for you to come closer. He's got the second comfiest bed in the house, the first being Belphie's. Topped with warm quilts and plenty of pillows to support him as he reads, you're wrapped up in warm comfort once you join him.

Especially when he wraps an arm around you, giving you a curious look. He can be a little too curious at times, so he immediately asks what your nightmare was about.

"If you're interested, I have a guidebook for dream interpretations. I could try to find out the root of your worries, or... you could spend the night here instead? I wouldn't mind having you by my side until morning."

Asmo

Asmo is VERY invested in his beauty sleep. Even a slight deviation in his schedule could be disastrous for his complexion! His brothers know better than to disturb him lest they feel like dying, but you? You're the only exception... Lucky, huh? ❤️

When you touch him, he barely stirs. It takes a couple of shakes to get him to wake up, and then he's whining and grumbling until he realizes who's there. How could he be upset when he gets to wake up to your gorgeous face?

But right now.. your expression isn't bright and sunny at all. You look distressed, and he soon learns it because a pesky nightmare has been harassing you all night. He couldn't be happier that you chose HIM of all people for your comfort!

While there are many things he could do to help you forget about your bad dream, he opts for carefully guiding you into his bed, cooing sweet nothings until he's got you in his arms. You're enveloped in the smell of his sweet body lotion while he presses kiss after gentle kiss across your temple and down the bridge of your nose.

"There there, love. To think a nightmare has put you in such a state.. It's unforgivable! I'll get rid of all those worries so you can spend the rest of the night dreaming about my beauty! Or... about you and I. Wouldn't that be the perfect dream?"

Beel

Beel sleeps almost as soundly as Belphie does, and his monstrously loud snoring drowns out most sound, including your quiet knocking on his bedroom door.

But when you come in and tug on his sleeve, Beel's eyes blink open and he lets out a confused grunt, letting his eyes focus on the darkness around him. Where did that mountain of rainbow pizza go?? He wasn't even halfway done, and- Oh. MC.

You had a nightmare?? Beel stands up immediately and wears a look of worry, pulling you into a gentle hug. You look like you need one.

He's not the best when it comes to comforting words, but he can just show you how he feels. That's good too, isn't it? Maybe if he hugs you for long enough, you won't remember your nightmare.

"Do you want to take my bed? I'll sleep on the sofa, so- ah. Together? ...That's fine, too. I'll hold you close, so you don't have to be afraid anymore."

Belphie

The heaviest sleeper in the entire Devildom, it's a literal miracle that you managed to wake him up. Still, he's only half awake, and staring blankly at you while you explain why you're there.

A nightmare, huh? He's had plenty of those. If that's all it is, then just climb into bed with him. Belphie lazily pulls back his blankets and opens his arms for you, gesturing expectantly.

And once you're nice and cozy, he pulls you even closer until the gap between you is closed, and all you can feel is his warmth. He buries his face into your neck, tickling your skin with his breath.

His slow, heavy breathing makes you wonder if he's fallen back to sleep just like that, but he gives your side a reassuring squeeze and lets his eyes open slightly to look into yours.

"Must've been pretty scary if you came all the way here. No matter how many bad dreams you have, I'll be right here when you wake up. It feels better to wake up in my arms, doesn't it?"

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Could you do carol x fem!reader but like so angsty that I can cry myself to sleep even tho I’m on antidepressants and can’t feel anything but plz let there b a happy ending thank u so much love u

I'm not sure if this qualifies as angst but here's a draft I had that I edited a little to fit the request. I hope it does the trick :)

It Wasn't For You

Summary: A mission gone horribly wrong drives a wedge between you and Carol. Is the bond fixable, or are the things you both said unforgivable?

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,998

You weren't sure what that emotion was that was boiling in your blood as you stormed back to your apartment. Was it worry? Were you just upset? You let it sit with you a moment as you unlocked the door. It wasn't either one of those things. It was rage. It was hot, unbridled rage. The cause of it was a certain Avenger who you had thought loved you enough to not do what she'd done. Clearly, she hadn't.

She was right behind you, stepping through the doorway before you could slam it behind you. You growled under your breath as she invited herself into your home, closing the door only once she was in. You didn't even bother turning to face her. You went straight to the bar and poured yourself a drink, not offering her one and not planning to let her touch a single drop of your alcohol. You took a sip of the hard liquor.

"Would you listen to me for one goddamn second?" She huffed out.

"I listened to you for multiple seconds, Carol. It doesn't change any facts."

"I did it for you!"

"I don't give a fuck."

Truly and honestly, you didn't. What she'd done was immoral, infuriating, and wholly unforgivable. She could get down on her knees right there in front of the bar and you wouldn't have batted an eyelash. It wouldn't be enough. In fact, you were convinced that nothing would be enough for you to forgive her. It didn't matter how much you had loved her yesterday or the day before. It didn't how much you loved her today.

"I'd do it again," she assured.

"Then I would do this again," you turned to finally face her, eyes locking with the brown ones that could usually instill a sense of peace in your chest, but today seemed to have no effect. "We're done, Carol. I think it'd be best if you left, please."

You could practically hear her heart dropping into her stomach. There was a part of you that ached to bring her into your arms and soothe that hurt look off her face. You knew better. That piece of you would fade eventually. You'd learn not to love her anymore. In fact, you could probably learn how to hate her. The boiling rage that was flowing through your very veins could assist you with learning that.

"Please-"

"I'm asking you to go," you said, firmer this time. "Please, get out."

If she'd had a tail to tuck between her legs, she absolutely would have. She didn't even bother to protest again. The expression you'd plastered on your face made it clear it wouldn't have done anything anyway. She slowly made toward the door. Her hand touched the doorknob and she cast her gaze back to you once more. You didn't dare let your features soften. You could've sworn there were tears in her eyes as she turned the doorknob and left.

You breathed out as the door closed behind her, finally daring to let tears streak down your cheeks.

*

You stared down the super soldier, neither of you wanting to speak first. He was the team leader though, and basically your boss. You knew even if he was the first one to speak, you were going to be the one spilling everything. You didn't want to, not one bit, but you knew you were going to have to anyway. You wondered if you had the strength to talk about it. You wondered if he had the strength to listen to your recollection of events.

"I just need to know what happened so when they ask-"

"Fuck, Steve! Natasha fucking died and we're sitting here having this stupid conversation," you shouted, rising to your feet, tossing the papers in front of you off the table, and moving to the window. "I have a goddamn funeral to plan!"

"Look, neither of us wants to talk about this, but we have to!"

You sighed, clasping your hands behind your back as you looked out at the compound grounds. There were agents training, running laps around the building. Sam was the one guiding them, seeming to enjoy barking orders at them. You tore your gaze away from a sight that seemed to have lost its beauty now that Natasha wasn't there alongside the Falcon, chuckling with him as they watched the new recruits huff and puff.

"It was me or her and Carol chose me," you finally gave. "I was what would have been fatally outnumbered and Natasha was down. She was in the jet. Carol could have either gone and stopped the jet from crashing, or she could pull me out and neutralize the enemy. She chose the latter. That's what happened. Happy?"

"I need your report."

"I need to plan Natasha's funeral!"

You stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you. You let out the breath that had been stuck in your chest, leaning your head against the wall and shutting your eyes. It hadn't been an easy couple of days. You'd have been surprised if you'd gotten more than three hours of sleep in the last three nights combined. Somehow, though, you still didn't feel tired. You felt a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them.

As if losing Natasha wasn't hard enough, you were also grappling with crippling amounts of anger and guilt. Natasha should have been the one that was saved. She was the obvious choice, and yet here you stood, and Natasha was gone. The anger, though? That was all for Carol. She had promised you that her relationship with you wouldn't have affected her at work, but it had. She'd saved you when she should have saved Natasha and all of those people in the impact zone.

"Can we talk?"

Speak of the devil.

You opened your eyes, using your shoulder blades to push yourself away from the wall. Immediately your entire stance got defensive. You crossed your arms over your chest. You watched as she searched your eyes in hopes of being able to read them like she usually did, but knew it would be to no avail. You didn't want her to know anything about what you were feeling. She didn't deserve to know what you were feeling. All she deserved was to be on the receiving end of your rage.

"No. I told you we're done, Danvers. We don't need to talk anymore."

"I'm not letting you go that easy."

"You don't have a damn choice!" You laughed humourlessly. "You can't stop me. You don't own me, and you definitely don't own my heart."

With that, you stepped around her, walking toward the doors of the compound. You could hear her footsteps trailing behind you. You didn't bother to turn around and glance at her, or even open your mouth to tell her to go away. You just let her follow you as if she were going to get something out of you. She wasn't going to. The last thing you wanted to do was hear some sort of failed explanation as to why she'd decided to save you. You knew why. It was because she couldn't separate home and work. You never should have trusted her to be able to.

You stepped out into the sunlight, cursing the sky for being so bright and sunny when it felt like it should be dark and gloomy. A storm cloud and roaring thunder might appropriately match the way you felt inside. Instead, you were forced to pull your sunglasses down over your eyes as you headed back toward your car, feeling you could use the walk toward it instead of making it come to you- a feature Tony has insisted you needed. As you arrived though, Carol finally reacted.

"Jesus Christ, would you hear me out?" She said, anger in her voice as she grabbed your wrist.

"Let go of me."

"Talk to me."

"I already said no. Let go of me," you demanded.

You ripped your arm out of her grasp, glaring at her as she retracted her arm. You unlocked your car, getting into the front seat. You didn't even glance at Carol as you started the engine, put the car into drive, and pulled out of your spot, leaving her behind.

*

It was early when you woke up the next morning, and immediately your day went different than normal. Your eyebrows furrowed when you stepped out of your bedroom and found an envelope slipped under your apartment door. It was completely unmarked. You knew the danger of anything unmarked. You were an Avenger. You couldn't find it in you to care, though. Without Carol's arms around you, you tossed and turned. Losing Natasha hurt so much more without Carol there to hold you through it. But it was her fault.

You reached down and picked up the envelope. You sliced it open with the knife that was resting on the table beside the front door. What you pulled out was a single piece of lined paper. It had clearly been ripped out of someone's notebook, the torn rings hanging off the left side. You unfolded the paper and immediately recognized Carol's handwriting inside. You crumpled it up and prepared to throw it, but then you hesitated.

She wasn't there. You didn't have to talk to her. You didn't want to talk to her one bit, but you were dying to hear her side of the story. This way, you didn't have to risk breaking and losing yourself to emotion in front of her. You uncrumpled the paper and held it out in front of you. You took a deep breath and let your gaze drift over Carol's familiar handwriting once before you moved your eyes to the top of the page.

Y/N,

I really hope you didn't throw this out. I suppose if you're reading this, you didn't.

I know you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I might not want to talk to me either. Your best friend died and it is entirely and completely my fault. I know that. It is my fault. I could have saved her, and I didn't. I just need you to know why.

I know you think that I broke my promise. I promised you, Steve, and every Avenger, including Natasha, that I would never let our relationship affect our work. It must seem like I failed to do that. I didn't break that promise. I love you. I do. But I wouldn't do that.

I knew that saving Natasha was more likely to be successful than saving you. Saving her would have meant saving those three civilians too. Not saving you, though, meant that they would have gotten away, and it meant they would have killed dozens of our agents on their way out. There were so many of them. They outgunned our men by too much. I didn't do it for you. I did it for them.

It breaks my heart that I couldn't save her. If I could have given my life for hers, I'd have done it in a heartbeat. If choosing her over you had been the right choice, I'd have done it. I promise you that.

I love you, even if you can't love me back.

- C

*

Tears spilled from your eyes as the empty casket was lowered into the ground. When a hand brushed ever so lightly against yours, you stiffened. You glanced for a moment over at the woman beside you. Those brown eyes were locked on you as well, for a moment, before turning back to the burial. You took a deep breath before moving, threading your fingers between hers. You pulled a little closer to her.

Maybe you should have listened to her. That letter you'd received yesterday had been a lot to think about. You'd been so angry with Carol because she'd closed you over Natasha and you'd been selfish enough to think it was because she couldn't separate her feelings for you from work. When you'd found out that wasn't the case, it had taken away all your reason to be angry at her. What happened to Natasha wasn't her fault.

Once the red had faded, you'd realized how stupid you'd been being. Carol had obviously been hurting and you'd been gatekeeping pain because you'd been blaming yours on her. The guilt stewing in her gut was probably millions of times worse than yours. She'd had to make that choice out in the field. It was the right choice, you saw now, but that would never matter. You knew how that felt, and you'd pushed her away and left her to deal with it alone. You wouldn't blame her if she couldn't forgive you for that.

When the funeral ended and people started heading toward the reception, you stayed glued to the spot. You could tell Carol wasn't sure what to do. Her hand had tried to pull away to give you space, but this time it was you that didn't let her leave you. The hand that was in hers tightened enough that she got the message. You had to wonder if she'd stay to hear it. As always, though, she was better than you. Her efforts to move away stopped.

You stayed silent for a moment, standing in that position and wondering what to say. There might not have been words enough to express just how sorry you were. There might not have been anything you could say that would make her forgive you. You deserved that, though. You broke up with her. There was no obligation for her to take you back and you hadn't given her any reason to want to. You were the one who had pushed.

"I'm sorry, Carol," you muttered, knowing full well that wasn't enough. "I'm sorry for everything. I was selfish."

"I get it," she admitted. "It's okay."

She was better than you.

But it wasn't okay. What you'd done to her was far from okay. You'd taken one look at the guilty relief in her eyes after that mission and decided that she'd sacrificed Natasha for you. She was allowed to be relieved. You would have been, if the roles had been reversed. Just because you lost Natasha, didn't mean Carol wasn't allowed to be a little relieved that the love of her life survived. Now, you didn't get to be that.

"Baby... Carol, I just wanted you to know that I read what you wrote and I'm sorry for how I'd reacted. I'm sorry I didn't stop to hear you out before that and I'm sorry I pushed you away when you were obviously hurting."

She dared to pull you a little closer. "You can still call me Baby."

You had to let out a light chuckle at that, despite the tears on your face. You wondered if you were mourning Natasha or your relationship with Carol. Whatever the case, she reached out and brushed the pad of her thumb across your cheek. You couldn't resist leaning a little harder into her hand. She got the message, opening her hand and cupping your cheek, her palm pressing delicately against your skin and her thumb continued to trace your cheekbone.

"You were hurting too," she assured quietly. "You reacted that way because you were grieving. You needed someone to blame."

"It shouldn't have been you."

"I was easy," she said, hands sliding down so they were both in yours. "I could have saved her and I didn't. Whatever reasoning I might have had, that was the truth."

"I'm supposed to love you."

"You don't love me?" She questioned.

"I do! Of course I love you, Carol. But I haven't been great at doing that recently. I should have-"

"You love me and you were grieving your friend. That's it. And I love you too," she said, squeezing your hands. "Can we stop being broken up now?"

She was standing in front of you, a tiny smile on her lips, and forgiving you. She was asking you to take her back, like it wasn't supposed to be you on your knees begging for her forgiveness. You stepped forward, taking your hands out of hers so you could instead put them on her cheeks, and pulled her toward you until your lips had met. She kissed you back immediately, her hands finding your hips. She pulled away from you.

"So yes?" She said, a hint of teasing in her voice. "Because Natasha got us together and breaking up for good over her casket would not be honouring her memory very well."

"No, it wouldn't," you said, leaning your head onto her shoulder. You looked down at the wooden casket. "I miss her so much already, Carol."

"I know. Me too, Honey."

Your heart felt the slightest bit lighter now. You would've given anything for Natasha to be okay. The fact that she was gone still felt like a knife through the chest. At least now, though, you had Carol to hold you at night and kiss the tears off your cheeks. She had you to do the same for her. That was all either of you could do. Now, only time could lessen the pain. Carol put her arms around you and held you closer.

Just as you went to tell her once again that you loved her, her phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket, frowning at the number that was coming from outside the country. She showed it to you and you took the phone from her.

"Hello?"

"Did it work? Do they think I'm dead?" Said the so familiar voice.

You glanced up at Carol, sure the shock on her face matched yours.

"Natasha, what the hell-"

"We've got a new mission. Are you and your lovebird up for it?"

Carol kissed your cheek and then spoke to the woman on the phone. "Absolutely."

[cinnamonrusts]

sparda twins -- reactions

The Sparda twins reactions that you're pregnant with not just one, but two of their children.

DANTE-

You paced the bathroom several times as you gnawed on your thumbnail. Your eyes did not leave the plastic stick that was sitting on the edge of the sink near the toilet. The packaging read that results would be ready in five minutes, but the wait had it feeling like five hours.

Dante had left on a run for some take out and you knew that it was all the way across town, so it left you some free time to figure out your "little" situation. You hadn't told him anything. How could you? The two of you were not in an exactly "family friendly" business. Last thing Dante would need to worry about was a mini Sparda.

You had enough of waiting and snatched the test from the counter. Your eyes narrowed as they fixated on the single horizontal pink line, but widened when it turned into a plus. The blood in your body ran cold and your throat grew dry. It was as if the + sign mocked you and your stomach felt sick. You knew it would happen, Dante called himself the pull out king. Yeah - fucking - right, and this proved him to be very wrong.

The evidence needed to be disposed of, so you wrapped it several times in some toilet paper and shoved it in the trash can. Dante hardly took the trash out and it would be unlikely that he would decide to scour the garbage, so you felt safe. Now all you would have to do is just keep it a secret until you decided how to approach it.

It didn't last long and soon Nico was on the other end of the phone. She let out a happy, "'Eller!" but was greeted by a loud sob along with unintelligible babble. "Woah! Woah! [Y/N], you gotta repeat yourself. I couldn't make out a damn thing! You okay?" the brunette asked, concerned. "I'M PREGNANT!" your sobs now made sense. "Oh, shit," she replied. "Yeah, oh shit is right."

"Did you tell Dante yet?"

You scoffed, "No. I don't think I can," as you spoke on the phone in the kitchen, your eyes fixed on a photo on the fridge of you and your devil hunter boyfriend. The two of you looked so happy and Dante's smile was so bright, the vibes that radiated from the picture kind of gave you some assurance. Maybe Dante would react well to the news and maybe he'd give the same smile of glee at the idea of being a father.

"But you're going to have to at some point. How you goin' to explain a giant belly here in a few months?" Nico was right, there was no way around it. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes tight, "Could you maybe -- I dunno, take me to the doctor?" Nico replied, "I'll be there in a jiff!"

Just as you hung up, Dante walked in with two large bags that smelled of Chinese food. "Food is here and beer is in the fridge!" he waddled into the kitchen and his happy expression turned to one of concern when he noticed you looked upset. "Hey, darlin', you alright?" he set the bags down on the floor and slid to your side, his arms around your waist. His musk along with the heavy smell of greasy Chinese food almost threw you over the edge and caused you to gag. You placed your hand on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. His brows furrowed as he tried to understand what was wrong but the loud horn of Nico's van interrupted. "I'm going out with Nico. I'll be back," you brushed past him, grabbed your coat, and dashed out the door.

You were able to take a breath once you jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Your head rested on the back of the seat and your eyes closed, "Thanks for the ride." Nico placed a hand on your thigh and nodded, "No problem, girlfriend."

Several hours passed and you weren't home yet. Dante's mind raced with different things he could've done to make you so upset. Was it because he hadn't taken the trash out? He would do that soon. Was it because he hadn't shown his appreciation for you relationship lately? He would go tonight to get you some flowers. So, the man did just that. Dante took the overflowed trash out. Then he made sure to hurry, so, that he would be home before you. Dante chose a bouquet of white roses and a goofy card. The card had two hot dogs on the front who held hands with smiles on their faces. It read, "Hot dog! You make me happy!" Dante got a kick out of it and figured you would too. The devil hunter wrote a quick, cheesy blurb in a scribbled mess and signed with his name plus a heart.

He opened the door and was surprised to see you in a chair near the entrance. You seemed to be in a trance and were startled by Dante’s sudden appearance. “I got you these!” he handed his gifts over but his happiness was dropped when you didn’t seem very happy to receive them.

“Dante, I have something I need to tell you.” you found it hard to keep your eyes on his. “Well, here it goes---,” your nose inhaled, then exhaled deeply, “I’m pregnant.”

Dante’s face was void of emotion before he burst into laughter. You grew angry and your facial expressions matched it. “That’s a good one, babe. Whew!,” he clapped his hands and winced a bit with his hand on his side, “Ow! That laugh made me pull a muscle.”

“I’m serious, Dante. I’m pregnant.” you reiterated. “With --- emotion?” he asked as his eyes shifted side to side.

“What? No! With a baby!”

Once Dante heard it for the third time, he realized it all. He was going to be a father and you were going to be the one who would usher in another lineage of the Sparda bloodline. Dante rushed to your side and took a knee as he kneeled beside you. His palm immediately made its way to your stomach as he pictured the life that was within. “Hey there, little buddy.” You cleared your throat into a closed fist which drew his attention to your face. Your right hand raised slowly and you twiddled your two first fingers in the air with a small smile.

That same grin that shined in the photo on your fridge grew across his lips. Both of his hands grabbed either side of your lower torso and he stared at your stomach. “You mean, there’s two of me in there?!” His expressions were warm and overjoyed, relief crashed over you as this situation turned out better than you thought. 

“I’m gonna really need to get outta debt.”

VERGIL-

Your body spoke to you and told you that something was going on. Every morning you felt ill and you could devour anything in sight until nausea overtook you. Lady asked if there was any possibility that you could be pregnant. A snort left your nostrils, “Impossible. Vergil and I don’t have sex enough for that to happen.” your mate was normally not home, you often slept in an empty bed more than one occupied by his strong body. But anytime he was, the act of intimacy could tear the walls down of his brother’s building. He was a focused and controlled man, he knew what he needed to do to prevent another child in his life. You were okay with that, your job was not one that was prime for being a parent. So, there was no doubt in your mind that this was nothing but a simple stomach bug.

“I don’t know, all your symptoms point to it, [Y/N]. Maybe you should take a test,” she attempted to reason with you and you eventually gave in.

The entire time you played it off as just something you did for Lady so that she would get off your back about it. You sat on the closed toilet lid and held the test loosely in between your fingers. The box read that it would take about ten minutes for a result, so you avoided looking at it until roughly around that. But your heart dropped into your stomach when the test did not read negative, but positive. “Shit --- Lady was right.” your cursed and your head dropped between your knees as your mind raced.

Vergil just found out that he had a son, Nero, and now you would throw him the information that he would have now an infant on the way. It was a conversation that you did not want to have. Vergil was a reserved man who did not show you his emotions often or expressed them publicly. You knew he loved you but it took quite sometime for him to open up to you about the fact. He put back his one track set mind toward power and made you a priority in his life. However, he had issues with being around his brother, son, and the other’s -- so he often went off on his own. You learned that this was something he wanted and you did not want to force yourself to go with him always. 

So, this news would not be easy to break to him when he would return in about a week. With the test clenched in your hand, you opened the door to leave the bathroom to only be greeted by Lady who was leaned against the walls with arms crossed. “So, what’s the prognosis?” she pushed herself from the wall and followed you as you pushed past her. You tossed the test into the air with your fingers and she caught it, “What do you think?” you answered before she was able to see for herself. The female was shocked to see that she was correct but didn’t want to say that she told you so.

You were about to slam your room door shut but her boot stopped it, “What’re you going to tell Vergil?” Your back was turned toward her and you faced the window as you observed the rain that pattered against the window. “Fuck if I know. How do you tell someone like him that he’s going to be a father... again.” Lady was silent, you turned on your heels to face her, “Exactly.”

Lady took your hand in hers and gave you a comforting smile, “Hey, he won’t be home for like what-- another week? Let’s get you to the doctor, we’ll figure something out.” You smiled faintly in return, “You’re a hell of a lady, Lady,” she batted her eyelashes, “Oh, I know.~”

A Week Later --

Lady was in your room with you and the door was closed, the two of you spoke of your plan of how you would drop the bomb on your half demon boyfriend.

“Do you really think Vergil will accept it?” you asked just as the white haired man opened the door, “Accept what?” he asked coolly. Lady closed her mouth and first looked at Vergil, then to you, “I’ll just let you guys have some alone time,” she slinked past the Sparda man and closed the door behind her. His gaze never left you and his strong features were unmoved.

You attempted to embrace him as you wrapped your arms around his neck but he gave you a slight push away before you could place a kiss on his cheek. “Will you tell me what you were talking about?” You bit your lower lip and hesitated to confess to him. Vergil took hold of your chin with his fingertips, “Speak.”

You swallowed hard, his blue eyes did not waver and they were just so beautiful that you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m --- pregnant,” you whispered. It was like time moved to slow motion, Vergil observed each syllable that came from your lips. Pregnant? Pregnant. Pregnant.

 A twitch in Vergil’s furrowed brows caught your attention, it proceeded to twitch several times before he closed his eyes and released his grip on your chin. “How?” You shrugged, “I thought we were careful every time, even with our more adventurous hookups.” He didn’t speak and just listened, “Why?”

“Why?” you repeated, “That’s what happens, Vergil. I can’t really make it anymore clear.” As per usual, you couldn’t read him and his thoughts were a mystery to you.

“So, I’ll be a father once again. At least I’m currently aware of this one.” he sighed.

“Two,” you interjected. It was as if you could see his ears perk up when you mentioned a number higher than he assumed. “Two? Another set of Sparda twins...” he was quiet before you could see a small smile on his lips. Vergil called for you to come to him, which you obeyed.

He wrapped his right arm around your upper half. His left hand rested on your stomach with a loved filled touch. His chin rested on top of your head as he imagined what they looked like and what life would be like in several months.

He thought to himself, maybe -- just maybe -- he truly deserved a happy life, despite all the things he had done. He now felt a stronger urge to want to be around you, the babies, and even Dante more. 

“Do I deserve this happiness, [Y/N]?” 

Your hand rested on his that was still on your stomach, “Of course. You always have.”

[nexyra]

As promised... Here is my RWBY Enneagram chat !

Here are close-ups for the text (can be hard to read on tumblr)

If you're not an avid typologist you might ask... What IS Enneagram ? And it is my duty to at least quickly introduce you to the concept & not just dump this chart on you :D

For an extensive reading of each type, you can check out this link

And for a quick overview : Enneagram is a typology system (like MBTI or Socionics). It can be a pretty helpful tool, because its focus lies on WHY you act the way you do : discussing the coping mechanism that built themselves out of your childhood struggles/traumas (big & small).

Enneagram is about your core fears, motivations, and how you relate to 3 main emotions (fear, anger & shame). There are 9 types, divided in 3 groups for each emotion & distinguishing 3 main ways to react to them.

Head types deal with Fear

Heart types deal with Shame

Gut types deal with Anger

And the three main ways Enneagram describes to deal with these emotions are : Embrace, Dissociate and Deny.

If I use the Gut types as an example :

Type 1 DISSOCIATE and detach themselves from their anger. They're aware that they're frustrated & angry, but resist this emotion because they want to rationalize it, and only share anger when they feel it is deserved. Their frustration eventually leaks out, and 1s become overly critical. By keeping their emotions and expressions on such a tight leash, 1s grow frustrated and appear as controlled & rigid individuals.

Type 9 DENY and avoid their anger. They numb it until they can barely recognize that they're angry at all. They dumb down or run away from pain & confrontation, in search for simple and painless solutions. Anger has never done anything for them, so they don't feel as though it is worth losing so much energy over. Since they tend to avoid conflict, 9s appear complacent and agreeable.

Type 8 EMBRACE and control their anger. They accept it as part of who they are, and don't care to tone it down for the sake of others. Infused with their anger, they become tough & assertive, chasing away vulnerability and those who would try to control them. Anger protects them, and they use it as a tool. Because they refuse to show weakness and see no reason to bend for others, 8s appear agressive and confrontational.

The same gymnastic happens for the Head or Heart types, but with their respective emotions. Technically, as the 3 groups each deal with different emotions; anyone trying to use enneagram to analyze their own behaviour should also be able to find 3 types (one in each group) they're able to relate to ! Together they make up your tritype :)

There is of course a lot more to enneagram that I woud love to delve into (such as the triads, which are another way to look at the types repartition and what aspects they have in common) but this is the gist of it ! If you're interested or have any questions, you can check out more links at the end (and the Amino community I'm in) oooor just ask me questions !! I'll always be happy to help or answer

Tests do exist like for any personnality theory BUT I happen to know & think they suck; because no one knows & understands you as well as yourself. You can check out answer in an online test, but you can't tell him WHY you chose that answer, and the why is what matters most in Enneagram. So... If that's your kind of thing, just slowly gets to know the theory and yourself. There is NEVER any rush.

Good evening to you all ! *bows*

Enneagram - Rule of Three Enneagram - Healthy or not ? Integration & Disintegration Enneagram - The Triads

[anonil88]

Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

[killerskillercaptain]

Peace of mind part 2 / 2

pairing : Levi Ackerman x Reader

word count : 3,206 K

summary : you’re the captain of your own squad, and you have a habit to go spend some time alone in a cabin located near the young recruits quarters. One day, you found Levi there who didn’t mind your company.

themes : deep talks, rain, maybe new beginnings, feelings development (on your side at least), slight interest from Levi’s side if you squint hard enough, life choices, fears, insecurities.

warnings : tw astraphobia (extreme fear of thunder), mentions of death.

You can read part 1 / 2 here

“Oi, why are you leaving? Isn’t this the place you come to for some “peace of mind” ? “Yes, but you’re here now” you replied in a quiet yet steady voice. “And i’m ruining the view for you” ? He asked looking at you nonchalantly. His tone was sarcastic, his eyes pressed you for an answer.

«Looks like it’s going to rain »

When the captain let out these words, it wasn’t long before cold droplets started to spill one after the other, soon the cabin was draped in watery curtains, making you and the captain take a step back to avoid getting soaked.

If you wanted to get back to your quarters, it was already too late for that, as the rain intensified rather quickly, both of you have been a bit too slow to react. But then again, who could have anticipated such a heavy rain in this time of the year.

« Dammit, i think it’s best to wait. We’ll get soaked down to the bone if we walk under this downpour»

You let out a small « yes », both startled and worried by the sudden change in weather. You were rather...uncomfortable being trapped in here with Levi Ackerman even though your mind was running with reprehensible scenarios right now .

Let’s face it, you always had a thing for the man, even if your only interactions with him consisted in you admiring him quietly from afar and frankly, you’d imagined you’d be thrilled by the idea of being stuck alone with the captain, but you were in such a state of unease right now because of the weather that you couldn't really care about that right now, because generally, heavy rain also meant-

Your thoughts were cut abruptly by the mention of your name.

You actually heard your name ?

Levi was facing you, and had just called you by your name. Not in a million years would you have thought he has it registered in his mind. He said it again as to carefully confirm he was not mistaking.

« That’s your name right ? »

«Yes » you let out in a breath, a little confused.

As if he was reading your mind, taking notes of your interrogative expression, he answered your inner pondering.

« I asked your superiors for your name not long ago. You may have heard of the initiative by now, Erwin and i are in the process of creating a special squad that i’ll be leading. Details are still confidential, but i can tell you that i have been granted complete freedom in selecting the members. »

He paused before continuing, focusing on you.

« and you might be in it »

For a moment, you forgot how to breathe and your mind went blank with the new information. You did hear something of the sort, but you did not imagine Levi considering, well, you. You'd imagined you need more than just skills to impress him. You did give your heart and soul to the cause, you chose to be a soldier, you didn't get thrown into it, you also made the conscious effort to be better and more effective on the battlefield. And right now you, were having a hard time believing that your efforts were actually paying off. Levi’s devotion and dedication served as a fuel to your own, and here you were, both of you discussing the possibility of working under his direct orders. You felt your stomach flutter, it was impossible to tell if it was from fear, anticipation or anything else.

You ignored the feeling when Levi broke the silence again.

« I’ve seen your ranking and your score since you enrolled in the Survey Corps. A few years ago your skills weren’t the impressive kind, but with time you managed to outgrow yourself. Forty titans taken down solo and more than thirty taken down in team, now that's impressive, so i went and asked for your name. »

The thought of Levi walking up to your superiors and asking specifically to be given informations about you made you feel a certain type of way you couldn’t quite pinpoint at the moment. He must also have asked Keith Shadis you thought then. That man always held you in high regards, and you were grateful for it. You never caused trouble, you were discret but efficient, you started to convince yourself that you were indeed, worthy of Levi’s interest, additionally, he did like quiet and efficient people.

The cabin was getting extremely cold with each passing minute, and you were still stuck with no sign of the downpour stopping any soon.

You started shivering, you were both in uniforms, with only your military jackets to keep you warm, neither of you brought your cloak.

If he had his cloak with him, would he offer it to you to keep you warm ?

A bright dash of light appeared somewhere far away but close enough to brighten the interior of the cabin.

Lightning ?

Your heart started pounding voraciously in your chest, and you were afraid Levi was about to witness a side of you that you were afraid might change his mind about you. Not noticing your hands that already started trembling, anticipating what’s to come, you swallowed a thick lump, trying to ground yourself on the wooden structure.

Levi seemed to notice the change in your demeanor but brushed it off. You stayed quite the whole time, you didn’t say anything at the news he just handed you.

You tried to pin your attention on the captain and what he just said, you tried to compose an answer to give him, or maybe just keep a thread of conversation going, but when you opened your mouth, a blasting sound echoed all around, followed by menacing vibrations in the air. The start of a thunderstorm, the sound was as if the sky got torn in half and soon enough, a harsh light spilled through and painted the entire scenery white for a second.

Instinctively you pressed your eyes shut at the sound. When you opened them, you were one inch away from Levi, gripping at his clothes for dear life, as if you were afraid to drown in the harsh light.

As if you were afraid to die.

Your fingers digged so hard into Levi's shirt beneath his jacket that you were positive you were leaving marks on his skin. When you realized what you were doing, you quickly backed off, body still shaking and lips starting to quiver.

« I’m so sorry Capt- »

Another thunderous blow tore the sky a second time, and this time you ducked on the ground with your two hands covering your ears, your eyes closed so hard that little watery pearls started forming at their corners.

To you, it seemed like it was going on forever, and then, you heard Levi pronounce those words you hated to hear about yourself.

« You’re afraid of the thunder ? »

Yes, yes you were

As horribly embarrassing, childish and pathetic as it was, you were.

Since you were just a child, the sound of the sky tearing up was something that made you unreasonably vulnerable. But you couldn’t help it, such an irrational fear was beyond your control and you were fortunate that a thunder erupting during a storm wasn't a very common event inside the walls.

In the rare occasions where it did happen, you felt your mind losing its grip on your body.

You didn’t answer Levi, you couldn’t focus on him, you just kept the palm of your hands pressed flat on your ears to try and hear the least possible of what was going on outside. You knew nothing was going to happen to you, you knew your body shouldn’t be trembling in this way, but you couldn’t reach your mind in these moments and ask of it to calm down, and this is what scared you the most.

That’s it. You thought

The only thought that emerged in your mind for a moment was how pathetic of a side you were showing levi at this moment. Just after he confessed he was thinking about you joining forces with him in fighting for humanity, here you were, scared out of your skull, and out of your control by the big scary sound in the sky.

He’s probably gonna review his opinion of you.

He's probably reviewing his opinion of you right now.

He probably thinks your not fit to fight under his orders.

You kill titans by the dozen.

But here you were, scared of the weather

Sitting down, you had brought your knees up against your chest now, ears still covered, you moved your hands a little as the sound seemed to have ceased only to put them back on quickly as the sky screamed and shook again. You had opened your eyes just to close them again in terror. In terror how pathetic.

You didn’t here Levi shift or make a move until you felt the hem of his jacket poking at your forehead. For a second, the sound stopped and you opened your eyes to Levi who took off his military jacket and handed it to you.

« Here, put it over your head, it will muffle the sound »

Out of surprise, and still a bit shocked from your tourment, you mechanically took his jacket and covered your head with it, pressing the fabric over your ears as the sky screamed again. It was working, you felt as if you were underwater, you still heard everything, but it sounded so far that you felt somewhat safe, only then did you realize that Levi did what he did.

He didn’t threw an insult at you telling you to get your act together

Instead, he silently offered some comfort, acknowledging your fear,

Validating your fear.

The hellish concert went on for three minutes. Three long minutes during which the sky threw a tantrum with unrealistic vibrations rippling through the air, as a shrieking wind joined in the outburst.

A lot of things happened during those three minutes, Levi coming to sit next to you on the ground, waiting for the storm to pass, and you getting intoxicated by the scent of the inside of his jacket, Levi’s jacket. This is what Levi smells like. You thought.

You were glad your face was covered as you felt it flush. Sure there was a faint note of sweat, but hey, you were soldiers, and soldiers sweat. But you could also recognize different other scents all converging into something you found extremely pleasing, almost soothing to you; a bit musk and something that resembled a type argan oil, you inhaled in silence, taking it all in shamefully. The feeling of being almost afloat under his jacket, the storm seemingly far away, as if you were cut from reality, only being able to breathe Levi's scent, the thought of him soon consumed you, leaving you feeling light-headed.

It was the closest you had been to Levi, since all these years, working together from afar; since you saw him for the first time when he proved to be everything but someone coming from the underground, both in manners and values, since the time you used to watch him ruffle Isabel Magnolia’s hair and feel that ache in your heart that grew more and more hungry.

When you watched him giving the hardest time to the young recruits

When you watched how loyal he was to Erwin, always present by his side watching over their mentees.

When you watched him from a distance, putting his horses in their stables, and staying a little longer to care about them and give them small gestures of affection

When you watched him sitting alone, by himself sipping his tea, holding his cup in his strange little way.

When you watched him accidentally sleep in the stable, on a bench, on a chair, so many times, while hesitant-and scared- subordinates would shake him shyly to wake him up.

When you watched him, from this cabin.

You liked climbing up this cabin, it was quiet, calm, but mostly, you could watch Levi all day long without him even realizing it.

You liked the cabin because watching Levi from a distance was calming to you.

You liked this cabin because observing Levi put your mind at ease.

When you found him up here, you turned heels as quickly as your heart started thumping on your chest, ready to live right away. You knew, soon enough that it wasn’t mere admiration for a comrade, it was more than that. Observing him from this cabin, you realized you wanted to rest a hand on his shoulder and tell him to go rest, the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to touch him, to feel him. There was so many things you wanted to tell him. Thank you for doing so much, you’re killing yourself go have some rest, thank you for bearing the weight of shielding humanity against its terrors, thank you for devoting your life, please take better care of yourself, we need you, we love.

I love you

Just know you have someone who cares so much for you.

Who wants to be by your side.

So badly.

But never did you approach him enough to have this much of him. Sure, you had your exchange of words and your eyes met on more than one occasion, but it was all wrapped in formalities, it didn’t feel human enough.

This

This feels human,

Him handing you his jacket felt human

You crumbling in front of him in all your pathetic glory was also human.

Now all you could think about or feel was Levi, you chewed on your feelings while trying to imprint in your head the only thing you got from him, this memory.

You suddenly felt a forceful tug, his hand was trying to move the jacket, you released your grip as soon as you realized that he wanted to take it off of you. The thunder had stopped for good, there was no roaring, no blasting echoes anymore. Just the quiet sound of the rain now. You loosened up, stretching your legs in a timid relief, your body trying to adjust to the now foreign calmness.

The captain didn’t say a word, and you stayed quiet as well.

The rain was quietly softening and the air was seemingly less cold, you realized your body had stopped shivering at all.

« I’m so embarrassed you had to see me like this Captain» you confessed broking the silence.

« Don’t be. Every fear has its reasons, even irrational ones »

You really thought humanity’s strongest would be repulsed by such a sight, he required people to be always strong or so you thought, but come to think of it, he always acknowledged human unescapable states like fear, regrets and sorrow., especially when those were almost inevitable on a battlefield. You never seen him dismiss any of those emotions when he witnessed comrades and soldiers experiencing them, even outside off the field.

« Do you...have any fears Levi ? »

You called him by his name, your question had a personal undertone to it that it required you to, or so you thought. And you couldn’t believe you actually had the courage to ask the strongest soldier alive if he feared anything.

« Regrets »

You turned to look at him, he was looking down at his jacket, his white shirt slightly wet from the rain it caught, you felt a little guilty witnessing that. You didn’t have a clue what was on his mind right now, but saying that, Levi was thinking about all the soldiers he lost under his commands, his two only companions he lost because of the choices he made, everything he lost, everything he couldn’t get back and everything he have regretted but decided not to, because he feared that if he’d let those regrets slip into the crevices of his mind, he’d never recover from it.

« I think it has been fairly gossiped about, but i lost my two truest and most loyal companions, i let them choose for themselves even though i wasn’t confident with that decision, it ended up horribly, but it was also my choice. It was my first time outside these walls, and also the last time i saw them alive. I feared regretting all of it, i feared the disappointment with myself was going to swallow me whole, but someone...someone who refused to succumb to their demons taught me once how dangerous it is to surrender to regrets, they can make everything loose its meaning in a blink of an eye. I used to fear sleeping on an empty stomach, i used to fear that stealing and killing would be my only reason to live. Now i fear everyday for my soldiers life, but what i fear the most is the regrets i could have, if you let them overpower you, they can make you believe that everything amounts to nothing.

Putting his palms on the wooden wall behind him, Levi pushed himself up, putting his jacket on, arms sliding slowly into the sleeves you were protecting your ears with just minutes ago.

« That’s why i make the choice, every waking day, not to regret any of my actions »

« So you don’t see me as a weak person ? »

« You killed forty human-eating monsters all by yourself, i don’t call that weak. As long as there is no thunder while you’re killing them i think we’re good »

You chuckled a little, your face already a bit brighter.

« It already happened Captain, and i did just fine, seems like it doesn’t affect me when i’m concentrating on something bigger and more frightening »

He was already heading for the door, your eyes following the black and white wings on the back of his jacket, he stopped just before going down the stairs.

« I’ll see you tomorrow at Erwin’s office for some paperwork regarding your new responsibilities »

You watched his figure disappear like it from your view like it always does, even though you were just been announced you’re gonna be working while being even closer to the threat now, you never felt happier. Yes you will be closer to the danger, but you will also be closer to Levi, hoping you could watch over him and maybe just maybe protect him as a token of your love. Be it from your admiration or your strong feelings, you knew your devotion to him had no boundaries. He wasn’t only humanity’s strongest in spilling blood and cutting flesh, he was also humanity's strongest for having a heart equally as great as his strength, but the world had yet to give him credit for that.

Listening to the creaking of the stairs as he went down, you couldn't help but remember when you found him in the cabin, staring at the sky. “And i’m ruining the view for you” ? He asked

You aren’t ruining the view

You are the view »

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (17)

    jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst → smut (dom!jjk themes but only because he can’t control himself lol)

words: 8.2k

    chapter seventeen

Namjoon dropped you off back on campus and was even kind enough – or guilty enough – to offer his help in your search for Jungkook, but you didn’t want to take up any more of his time and, in the case of actually finding Jungkook, you didn’t think you’d make the situation better by having Namjoon with you.

The first thing you did after you exited his car on campus was leave the campus – because you thought that Jungkook may have lingered by the club where Parental Advisory performed tonight; even if his bandmates didn’t seem to think so, since Yoongi insisted they’d lost their lead vocalist – and walking around in the shoes you’d picked today was almost enough to make you regret not asking Namjoon to drive you around, after all.

You hadn’t worn heels but the ballet flats were still not fit for this much walking and, once you circled the club twice and even asked the manager – who was having a smoke outside – if he’d seen Jungkook, you decided that you could understand why Yoongi had been so upset about his bandmate’s disappearance. 

As you returned to campus, you decided that you were also ready to strangle Jungkook once you finally found him.

“Have you heard anything from him?” you asked in your text message to Yoongi and then informed him, “I’m on my way to my dorm now to change into more comfortable shoes but I’ll check some of the buildings where he has classes after that.”

Just as you passed the library – and peeked inside because, although slim, there was the possibility that Jungkook may have been hiding out here (he wasn’t) – your phone buzzed with Yoongi’s reply.

“The guys and I will check them,” he was saying, “are there any other places on campus that have some significance to you and him?”

You did a double-take when you finished reading the text, not liking the wave of awkward and misplaced guilt that returned when you fully grasped what Yoongi was implying – he may not have been accusing you of anything, but he was, clearly, convinced that you were the reason why Jungkook missed the encore of his show and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth.

“I’m not sure,” you started to type back as you walked past the double-doors of your dormitory, startling your seemingly drunk RA who had been dozing off on the couch in the first-floor lounge. You stopped typing to press the elevator button, but then resumed, “I’ll walk around. He couldn’t have gone far.”

“He could have,” came Yoongi’s arbitrary – but, frankly, objective – response and you sighed as you read his words, your reflection looking very gloomy in the mirror of the elevator. “But let’s hope he didn’t. If you find him first, kick him where it hurts most. And then punch him for me, too.”

You couldn’t help snickering at the absurdity of the situation that you were in – you definitely never thought you’d end up bonding with Jungkook’s bandmates over your mutual frustration with him – as you typed back your response.

“If his phone isn’t back on within the next ten minutes,” you were saying in your text, stopping for a second when the elevator ding! announced that you’d reached your floor, “I will be doing a lot more than just—”

You stopped typing as an audible gasp escaped your lips, prompted by the sight at the far end of the hallway, right by the door of your dorm. Your phone nearly left your hands, on its way to crash on the floor. You’d caught it—miraculously—your eyes still locked on the figure, sitting on the floor by your door.

“Jungkook,” you said, meaning it as a question but not being able to articulate it properly due to your shock. The dim lighting of the hallway made it difficult for you to make out if it the silhouette was actually him, or if it was someone who was incredibly similar to him.

“Oh,” the person replied and – clumsily – stood up, relying heavily on the wall to help him support his weight. It was Jungkook alright. But barely. “You’re here.”

“I’m—of course, I’m here. I live here,” you said, not sure how to react. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Various unintelligible sounds left your mouth after he said this – the first syllables of all the words you wanted to say in the moment; all of them rated-R – until you settled on watching him for a minute to get some time to form a coherent thought and to asses the damage.

It didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. It simply looked like he got very drunk and plopped down on the floor next to your dorm room.

“Waiting for—Jungkook, fuck—do you know that your band is literally out there, looking for you?” you demanded after inhaling sharply. “There’s a whole search party for you and you’re—you’re here.”

“I was waiting for you to come back,” Jungkook said. He was a lot more sober now than he was hours ago, but he still wasn’t sober enough to recognize his own guilt. Actually, he was probably never sober enough to feel guilty about anything, but alcohol had little to do with it. “I was going to drive over there to find you—”

“You’re drunk,” you snapped, interrupting him.

“Yeah, and that’s why I didn’t,” he said, pausing for more effect as he waited for you to express your admiration for his self-control but, after it didn’t come, he cleared his throat and, sounding disappointed, explained, “I knew you would give me shit if I drove a car drunk and I promised you that I wouldn’t. So I didn’t. I waited for you here instead.”

“You should have known that drunk-driving is unacceptable because that puts you and everyone around you in danger,” you countered, the moral superiority in your voice clouding the meaning of your words, “and not just because I would give you shit if you did it again.”

He rolled his eyes but chose not to expand on this argument because you didn’t look like you were in the right mood to understand his point of view about “conforming to societal norms”, even if it meant that he was putting himself – and those around him – in danger. Not to mention, he was still too tipsy to hold out a proper conversation.

“How long have you been here?” you asked after he didn’t reply.

You were well-aware that you were having this conversation in the hallway when you could have, theoretically, had it in your room. The door was right there. The key was in your handbag.

But entering – and inviting him inside – wasn’t something you were ready for just yet. The adrenaline from not knowing where Jungkook was and what had happened to him still hadn’t faded. Your breathing still hadn’t calmed down – funnily enough, it would not calm down for the rest of the night, but you didn’t know that yet.

“A while,” he replied just as you remembered you were supposed to let Yoongi know you’d located the missing boy. You got your phone out while Jungkook continued, “I bribed your RA with my six-pack of Heineken. Well, actually, it wasn’t really mine, I just took it from the bar, but—”

You stopped typing the text message to give him a hard look. “You stole six bottles of beer?”

Jungkook blinked, thrown off by the fever in your eyes. “No. I took them.”

“Without paying?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s stealing.”

“I do it all the time,” he waved his hand dismissively – and pushed himself off the wall in the process, only to lean back against it again a moment later, when he realized he was still not steady enough on his feet. He nodded his head at your phone, “ask Yoongi. The manager knows us there. We get drinks on the house.”

“I’m—how do you know I’m texting Yoongi?”

“You said there was a search party for me,” he said, taking you off-guard with his accurate conclusions. You wondered what sort of effect alcohol had on him, “Yoongi is the only one that cares enough to lead it.”

He didn’t mean to make it sound sad – in fact, his facial expression remained the same: somewhat cautious and a little irritated – but you still felt an unpleasant pang of misery in the pit of your stomach.

“He’s—well, I care, too,” you said with a nervous cough that was meant to rid you of all pity you felt towards him because pity didn’t justify what he did. “A lot of people care. You can’t just disappear like that in the middle of your show and—”

“It is Yoongi you’re texting, right?” Jungkook asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “Not someone else?”

He was probably trying to be nonchalant about it but, consciously or not, he ended up making his question unbearably obvious. The “someone else” may have been an abstract concept to outsiders – your peers, lurking by their doors and watching the argument play out through their peepholes – but you both knew whom Jungkook had in mind.

“Yes,” you said. “I was texting Yoongi. We’d agreed to let each other know if we found you.”

“Okay, good,” Jungkook said and proceeded to act like this was all a mere misunderstanding that wasn’t worth a lengthy discussion. “Can we go inside now? It’s weird to talk in the hall.”

“Are you going to tell me why you got drunk before your show?” you asked, your voice on the edge of yelling. “Or why you skipped out on the encore?”

Understanding that answering this was the one condition to enter your room, Jungkook sighed. 

He was hoping you’d come to your own conclusion about this and he could just roll with whatever you thought was the truth – that he was useless, untrustworthy, reckless, and any other thing that people regarded him as – because explaining himself meant talking about his feelings. And he was so good at pretending that he didn’t like to do that.

“Because you weren’t there,” Jungkook answered.

You couldn’t help but groan. You’d gotten so tired of his no-more-than-four-word responses to serious questions, you couldn’t hear any more of them. You hated having to ask specific questions to get him to talk when he knew very well what you wanted to know.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned irritably. “I wasn’t at your previous shows and that didn’t seem to be a problem.”

“Before—”

“Not to mention,” you continued, choosing to let it all out now that he’d shown you he wasn’t going to be completely upfront with you, “you knew where I was. We’d talked about our plans for tonight extensively, and I wasn’t supposed to hear from you until the barbecue ended and you wrapped up your show.”

“Okay, fine,” Jungkook said, his voice rushed. He didn’t want to hear any more of your accusations because he knew he would lose the battle of wits – he would have lost it on an ordinary day, but today, everything he said seemed extremely wrong. “It’s because you were with him.”

“With Namjoon?” you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.

Not liking your defensive stance, Jungkook swallowed and said slowly, “yes.”

You looked away from him then – as if you were gazing into an unseen camera and waiting for someone to yell that you’d been punk’d – your eyes losing focus.

“Are you kidding me?” you asked with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m not,” he replied, his jaw clenched. “My own father sent me the picture.”

“The picture?” you raised your eyebrows, almost laughing. “It was just a picture of the company employees! Namjoon happened to be standing next to me. You can’t seriously be acting like that because of something as minor and irrelevant as this. I thought we’d already talked about this.”

Completely forgetting every past conversation, Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Minor and irrelevant,” he repeated, an undeniable snarl in his voice. “Is that what this is? At this point, you spend as much time with him as you do with me.”

“Why is that a problem?” you challenged. “We’d already agreed you wouldn’t do this! I am allowed to hang out with my friends. You have no reason – or no right, for that matter – to react like that. You know there’s nothing going on.”

“I’m not—”

“And I spend even more time with Inna than I do with Namjoon,” you cut him off, “why was she never an issue?”

“Oh, so, Inna, Namjoon, and I are all the same to you?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the trap he must have set for you with this question. “Yes.”

“Oh, how brilliant,” Jungkook scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and turning his back to you as he spat, “your three closest friends.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

He turned around suddenly, his gaze full of blazing fire. “Do you kiss them the way you kissed me last week?”

His words seemed to punch you right in your lungs and all breath left them as you stood there, trying desperately to inhale and suddenly feeling a lot more drunk than he was, despite not having had a single drop of alcohol tonight.

“I didn’t think we were going to talk about that,” you said lamely, all conflict having left you along with your breath. It wasn’t really a response to his question but it was the best you could do when he was looking at you like that.

“We weren’t,” he said. “But only because I could see how much you didn’t want to. I could tell you were pushing me away—”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he interrupted you before you could properly interrupt him, and continued his tirade, “and I understand your reasons. I left you seven years ago and friends aren’t supposed to do that. They don’t abandon friends.”

Faced with this point-blank truth, you were forced to lower your eyes to the floor as you attempted to lie, “I-I didn’t—”

“I told you of my reasons back then,” Jungkook said, not needing your excuses. He knew what the truth was and he didn’t blame you for feeling insecure. “I wanted to keep you safe from myself. And maybe I have my reasons now, too.”

“What?” your stomach dropped. When you looked up at him again, he was already standing a few steps closer to you. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to walk away from you,” he said, spilling his next words in one single breath, “but I can’t handle just fake-dating you because the thought of someone else dating you for real, makes me want to tear the fucker up to pieces.”

You didn’t say anything, not entirely sure if you understood his speedy delivery correctly or if your heart was banging against your ribs for no reason.

“And maybe that’s why I should leave,” he spoke then, taking another step towards you and taking over your personal space not with just his words, but with his presence, too. “But we’re both adults now. I’m still learning how to properly be one, but I’d already missed one opportunity to be with you and I can’t miss another one. So, even though I should, I can’t fucking leave. I don’t want to.”

Speaking quietly, you asked, “then don’t.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said and you couldn’t find it in yourself to lift your eyes to his and settled on watching his lips instead, which was about ten times worse, “I am—I’m in love with you and I don’t want to be the same as the rest of your friends for you. And I really don’t fucking want to be the same as Namjoon.”

“Namjoon—he drove me here,” you found yourself saying as your mind short-circuited, “to look for you. He’s kind and understanding but neither of us are interested in one another. He… I think he always knew that my heart was elsewhere.”

This time, it was Jungkook who needed a full explanation, not an off-handed excuse. “Where?”

Right here, you would have said but you chose to show him instead as you leaned in closer, removing the remaining bits of distance between you by gently touching his lips with yours.

Jungkook reacted immediately, responding to you and refusing to let you pull away by placing one of his hands on your right elbow and another one on your waist. He wasted a split-second when he pulled back to inhale, but then he made up for it by kissing you again, his lips closing against yours in a tight lip-lock.

You pulled back, however, a smacking noise echoing around the hallway as you did, whispering to him, “are you still drunk?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jungkook replied breathlessly before pressing his lips to yours again.

Kissing him back and feeling how the quick, gentle pecks turned into deep, open-mouthed kisses as his tongue caressed your lower lip before making its way into your mouth, made your mind hazy and you were forced to hold onto him tighter.

He sighed into the kiss; the feeling of you clutching the flaps of his jacket was more than enough to make him lose his mind. 

And then you let go suddenly, pulling away yet again.

“Are you going to do it again?” you asked because you had to hear him say it. “Are you going to leave? Stop talking to me?”

To be honest, Jungkook would have promised you the world in that moment. Hell, he’d have promised you the whole universe when you looked at him like that – with eyes full of need and parted lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“Never,” he told you.

You seemed to read his mind. “You better not be saying that so we could keep kissing.”

He could have laughed at this if he didn’t know how much this meant to you – how much this meant to you-and-him – but he did know, and that’s why he took your hand, pulling it away from the flap of his denim jacket, and placing it squarely on his chest.

“I promise,” he said in tandem with his heartbeat.

Your lips crashed against each other again and the collision could have had painful consequences if your hands wouldn’t have been there to soften it. You held onto one another, pulling each other closer despite already touching everywhere it was possible to touch.

You could still taste the alcohol on his tongue but you could also taste him – mint and strawberries – especially when he used one of his hands to tilt your face in the right angle that allowed his tongue to play with yours. And then, as if he’d just snapped his fingers, you completely forgot about your surroundings and focused on kissing him back.

His touch ignited your skin and, as soon as he lifted the corner of your shirt and barely grazed your bare hip with the tips of his fingers, you already knew he’d started a fire you couldn’t put out.

In a rare moment when your mind cleared – all because Jungkook needed to inhale before he kissed you again – you realized that you were still in the hallway where, technically, anyone could have seen you.

Except that didn’t scare you much.

What scared you was this very realization: you wouldn’t have cared who saw you here, as long as he was still so close.

“My keys,” you whispered. He understood what you were saying – and what you implied by that – but he’d have rather been struck by lightning than voluntarily pulled away from you.

And so, forgetting your sanity for a yet another moment, you cherished in the feeling of his lips on yours, letting him push you against the wall next to your door.

Only when his body was pressed so tightly against yours that you found yourself trapped in the most delightful way possible, did you realize that this wasn’t going to be enough and you needed to leave the hallway before it escalated.

“Jungkook—” you tried again, pulling away this this time. Naturally, he lowered his head to kiss the side of your face instead, going down to your jawline and planting kisses on your neck, all while you desperately tried to find the keys in your handbag, your hands – and your entire body – shaking. “I can’t—ah, please, let me—the door—”

Jungkook would have pulled away from you if you’d asked but you weren’t asking – you didn’t want him to. And he had a hard time focusing on what you were saying anyway, especially when the beginning of his name never left the tip of your tongue.

Finally, your fingers located your keychain and pulled it out from your handbag. But blindly unlocking the door proved to be even more difficult than finding the keys.

Had you been less lost in each other, you could have stopped kissing for one minute to enter your dorm room, but any thought of disconnecting your mouths and bodies seemed ridiculous and impractical. Why would you waste your time by not kissing each other?

You managed to push the key into the lock through sheer luck, and then, hoping to open the door, you took a step forwards, away from the wall and into Jungkook – who didn’t mind being the one who held you, not letting you get too far away from him.

The speed with which you entered your room once the door was opened, would have probably knocked you both off your feet. But God favored those who were in love, and, the thing that you ended up knocking down, was just the bowl for keys that you and Inna kept by the door. You couldn’t have cared less about it – you barely even heard it clatter against the floor.

Following the invisible pull towards your bed, you and Jungkook successfully maneuvered past the door frame separating the bedroom area from the hallway, and – only stumbling once, when he pulled back to take his jacket off – you finally reached the privacy of your room.

“If you want me to stop,” Jungkook mumbled against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours as he held your body against his; your bed was right behind you and you knew you’d have fallen on it with the smallest push from him, “you have to tell me now because—” he kissed you again with the same raw hunger as before, “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave otherwise.”

“No,” you breathed, matching the intensity of his kisses with your own, “don’t stop.”

And that was the permission he needed to nudge you forwards until he landed on top of you on your bed, leaning on his elbows on either side of you. It was so similar to the way you’d made out on Sunday night in his parents’ house, and yet, it was so different, too, because you were past the point of caring about any interruptions now.

If someone knocked on your door right then – if someone walked in – you wouldn’t have even flinched.

Lifting your shirt and exposing more of your skin for his impatient fingers to explore, Jungkook was forced to break the kiss again, so he could fully take the garment off. And then he had to pause again so he could take a quick breather because of how ethereal you looked like this: half-naked and daring him to keep going with your eyes.

“Jungkook,” your soft whisper brought him back to life and helped him realize that this time, he wasn’t dreaming. This time, he had you here with him.

And so, he took his own shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again – clumsily and sloppily – and the new feeling of his bare skin against yours was enough for you to arch your back off the bed, all so you could feel more of him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed before bringing his hands up your sides and kissing down your neck. Encouraged by the sound of your whimpers when he gently brought his teeth over the spot below your collarbone, he sucked on the skin there with more force, leaving faint bruises.

Your hands slid down to his waist – reaching for the buckle of his belt – but they froze when you felt his tongue soothe over the new mark he’d made on your neck. It stung but you felt more pleasure than pain and, for a good minute, that pleasure was all you could focus on.

You felt his fingertips dance around the edge of your bra and heavy breaths left his lips when he brought his face back to yours, stopping just close enough to feel the pull of your lips, but far enough to still be able to look you in the eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, successfully undoing your bra in his first attempt – he wouldn’t have called himself an expert in that particular area; he was just determined to always get what he wanted and he wanted you.

You barely had enough time to hum in response before he lowered his face and reconnected your lips, sliding the straps of your bra down your shoulders in a motion so slow, you nearly threw him off the bed and did it yourself.

Instead, you chose to concentrate on finally undoing his belt, which wasn’t going well due to how badly your hands were shaking. But, once you finally succeeded and got through to the zipper of his jeans, it seemed like Jungkook was no longer so dead-set on taking this slow, either.

“Oh,” a sigh passed your lips when he threw your bra to a side and repositioned himself in-between your legs, his hips grinding into yours in a dangerously satisfying way that only left you wanting more. “Please, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he spoke and his normally melodious voice seemed deeper now.

He placed a kiss to your lips again and then pulled away to slide your jeans down your legs, tossing them aside before bringing his hands over the bare skin of your ankles, then up your calves, over your knees, and down your thighs again.

“Jungkook,” you tried again, “do something, please.”

“Hmm,” he wasn’t entirely aware of his surroundings as he cherished in the feeling of your skin right under his fingertips. He had to touch – to feel – all of you, so every bit of your body, every crevice and every wrinkle, remembered him.

Your breath got caught in your throat when he finally reached the waistband of your panties, and Jungkook was convinced he was going to die when he took them off of you – but he didn’t mind dying in the slightest, not if he got to see you like this first.

“I’m going to make you feel so,” he said, lifting your hips off the bed—just barely—so he could slide your panties down your legs, “so good.”

And he resolved to show you that he meant it, peppering the insides of your thighs with butterfly kisses that were the complete opposite of the tight grip he had on you. 

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he felt the way your body shuddered in anticipation as his kisses neared your core and he could feel his own pants tighten uncomfortably around his now rock-hard length.

Placing a soft, chaste kiss right above your clit, Jungkook heard your deep breath and that encouraged him to keep going, applying more force to his kisses as he went lower. Finally, just as your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets underneath you, he spread your lower lips with his tongue and lightly—so lightly, that you weren’t sure you didn’t just imagine this—licked his way up to your clit.

“Oh, shit,” you threw your head back and Jungkook – who’d already proved how much positive reinforcements meant to him – released a guttural breath that vibrated against your core.

The sensation added more to the blissful feeling of his tongue as he finally flattened it against your mound, licking and sucking with a loud and sloppy slurping sound.

You gasped when the previously teasing motions increased in speed and his tongue circled around your entrance, touching and tasting you in clockwise movements, never forgetting to pay special attention to the most sensitive spots on and around your clit.

“You taste so sweet,” Jungkook spoke breathlessly and you struggled to understand him not just because of how good he was making you feel with his mouth, but also because he did not pull away far enough and his words quavered against your core. “Talk to me.”

“I-I’m—that’s good,” you tried to say but your head was spinning, “so good, you—oh! Oh, fuck, Jungkook!”

Almost screaming out in surprise, you felt his fingers against your core, gentle and careful for the first second, but eager and energetic the next as Jungkook explored the wetness around your entrance. Bringing his tongue over your clit, he slid two of his fingers inside, ready to stop and wait for your reaction but that was not needed.

Arching your back off the bed, you sighed deeply and pleaded far louder than you’d intended, “p-please—”

Smirking to himself as you struggled to finish your sentences, he sped up his movements, not giving you a moment to collect your breath as he rubbed the insides of your walls with his fingers and sucked on your clit, the slow movements of his tongue contrasting with how quickly he was moving inside of you.

“Good girl,” he said, his hot breath against your core making your whole body tingle. He felt one of your hands touch his hair, grabbing onto it; softly at first, but gradually pulling harder when the circling motions of his fingers sped up. “Are you close, baby? Tell me.”

You were close – and the pet name only increased the burning pleasure inside of you – but, at that point, you were only capable of moaning weakly, “hmmm, yes. Don’t stop, please, d-don’t—”

Gasping again as Jungkook removed his mouth from you, readjusting himself on the bed so he could move his fingers in and out of you quicker, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to keep your sounds to a minimum.

“Nngh—so close,” you spoke and just then, you felt his thumb rub vicious circles on your clit. The motion was so delicious, you were forced to abandon your attempts to stay quiet, almost shouting when you felt your walls tighten, already so close to your edge.

He could feel you clench around his fingers – a feeling that did no good to the painful hardness in his pants – and applied more force to his movements, maintaining the same speed that allowed him to pay equal attention to your swollen clit and the soft walls inside of you.

“Come for me,” he said, his voice coarse. “I want to watch you come for me, baby, please.”

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you groaned, barely able to catch your breath as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, circling and curling them in a way that was just right, until the knot in your stomach unraveled with a pop so strong, your whole body seemed to lift up from the bed as you whimpered, unable to make any other noise.

Watching you lose control of your body, Jungkook used his free hand to hold you down as he kept the pace up with his fingers while you rode out your high. Barely any sound left your mouth when you reached your peak but your heavy breaths and the rise and fall of your chest as you came still overflooded his senses.

Jungkook didn’t think it was healthy to need someone this much.

When you opened your eyes a moment later, still breathing heavily, he was hovering above you, leaning on one arm as he sucked on his fingers, exhaling shakily when you bit your lip.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you here like this,” he said, “how long I’ve wanted to hear you sound like this.”

Still overwhelmed and momentarily rendered speechless by the strength of your climax, you replied to him by sitting up so you could reach his lips with yours.

Kissing him – and hearing him growl into the kiss as soon as your hips pressed into his, adding pressure against his hard length – you could distinctly taste yourself on his tongue, but Jungkook wasn’t going to give you a lot of time to analyze all the different sensations you were feeling; he flipped you over until he was on his back, and you were straddling his hips.

Being on top of him gave you a lot more control of the situation, but it also made the shaking of your hands all the more obvious. You lifted yourself off him slightly to slide his jeans and boxers down, not bothering with teasing him – even though, that would have been the fair thing to do, considering how slowly he’d undressed you before.

He didn’t regret that one bit – that was plain obvious in the darkness of his lustful eyes that followed your every move – but he did wish you went a little faster because each brush of your hands right by his length made him think he was going to explode.

“There’s a condom,” he said, swallowing, “in the pocket of my jacket.”

You had to look around the room to find the jacket and, when you located it, it still took you a few minutes to get the glittering wrapper out. Biting your lip as you made your way back to Jungkook – sprawled almost helplessly on your bed – you couldn’t help yourself.

“Do you always carry condoms around in the pocket of your—”

“No,” he replied, obviously not very interested in discussing his condom-bearing habits when you were unwrapping the packaging with your teeth after your fingers weren’t enough.

“Ah, so today was a special occasion?” you asked, smiling teasingly because your heart wasn’t really in this conversation, either – you could analyze why he’d brought the condoms with him later.

Unrolling some of the latex in your hands, your fingers finally touched his length as you pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his shaft. Jungkook exhaled with a low grunt, not particularly enjoying himself in a position this vulnerable – he didn’t think the simple act of putting a condom on had ever aroused him this much before – but not being able to do anything about it because this was you.

And if you wanted to take your time with the condom – since you seemed to double-check to make sure if it was really properly on; he thought you were just teasing him, really – then, he was going to let you take your time.

For the first twenty seconds, anyway.

Just as you raised your eyes to meet his, Jungkook sat up and pulled you closer to him, only lying back down on the bed when he made sure his arms were wrapped around your body, which was pressed against his as tightly as he could manage without breaking any of your ribs with his arms.

“If I wait any longer,” he whispered, his mouth so close to yours, you could almost taste him as he spoke, “I’m really going to pass out.”

“Well,” you said, your heart beating wildly behind your ribcage and echoing against his chest, “then don’t wait.”

“Fuck,” was the last word that left his mouth before he connected your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss and sat up a bit to reach his length with his hand and position himself at your entrance. “Tell me if you want me to stop.

“Mmhmm—oh,” your hum of approval was quick to turn into a shaky gasp as his length slid inside of you, stretching you out far more than his fingers had before.

He watched your facial expression the whole time, entering you slowly, inch by inch, so he could stop if he noticed any pain. Mercifully, the only thing he noticed in your eyes was a silent plea to keep going – well, that, and the fact that you did most of the job for him by lowering yourself on him until he was fully inside of you – and Jungkook was sure of it: he was most certainly going to lose it.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warned breathlessly, “you’re s-so tight—you feel so good—I—”

His grip on you had loosened, which allowed you to place one hand on his chest and push him into the bed, until his head landed back on the pillow. As soon as he bottomed out inside of you, he stopped and you closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing for a second, before you looked up at him again and lifted your hips.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook whispered, his hands clutching your hips so tightly, he was probably going to leave imprints there.

Lowering yourself on him again, you sighed deeply, unsure what brought you more pleasure – the sight of his starved gaze and swollen lips as he allowed you to set the pace, or the feeling of his length, caressing your inner walls and reaching places so deep inside of you, you could have used a warning.

“Y-you’re so—mm, good,” you mewled, your hips rising and falling on top of him as you tried to get used to the feeling but failed, your walls clenching around him each time you moved.

“Baby,” Jungkook said and it was almost a whine, “I need you to go faster. Can you do that for me?”

“Hmm,” you weren’t sure what he was saying.

Your senses were malfunctioning as you lost yourself in the feeling, so, instead of going faster, you lowered yourself until you could feel your walls hug his entire length. You stayed still for a moment, but hearing him sigh in desperation, you finally started to move again – grinding your hips against his quicker.

“O-oh,” the sudden change of pace took him off guard as Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him was pure bliss. “That’s good. Y-you’re doing so good.”

You continued to move on top of him, grinding your hips in large and smaller figure-eights, as Jungkook slid his hands up and down your sides, feeling your silky skin and gently kneading your breasts. He brought his fingertips over your sensitive nipples and, noticing how your breath got caught in your throat as soon as he did, he applied more pressure to his touch.

“Jungkook,” you said weakly and then completely lost your voice when he sat up – suddenly reaching even deeper inside of you, even though that probably shouldn’t have even been possible – and brought his tongue to your nipple, carefully toying with it at first, and then sucking harder later.

Your hips were still moving against his but you were losing your stamina, not at all helped by the fact that his smallest touch nearly tipped you over the edge.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you sighed and, somewhere in his own name, he heard the request for him to take over.

Fully immersed in the feeling of having you on top of him, Jungkook had no plans to change the position. He pulled away from your breasts, licking his lips, and then, finding a more fitting position on the bed, he locked both of your arms behind you by wrapped a hand around your waist and lifting his hips off the mattress.

He roughly thrust into you once – and then once more because he couldn’t stop himself – and then paused to gauge your reaction. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed, but your parted lips and the excited movement of your hips as they met his when he moved, was a clear indication that you didn’t mind the faster pace.

“Look at me,” he instructed, not moving until you did. “Good girl.”

Finally, he slammed his hips into yours again, this time not pausing for a single second, even though both of you were completely breathless already. His length drilled into you, rubbing your walls until the fire in your stomach started to spread and you involuntarily closed your eyes again, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“Jungkook—”

“What did I tell you, baby?” he asked, holding your hands behind your back with one of his arms, as he used his other hand to bring your face to his again. You opened your eyes. “That’s it. Are you close?”

“Hmm—I-I’m—” the next words didn’t come out when Jungkook straightened his posture and thrust into you with enough force to send you backwards until you were laying flat on your back again. “Fuck, I’m really close.”

His hips continued the relentless pace but he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep going, especially with the way you squeezed around him each time he re-entered your warmth. You could already feel your orgasm creeping in as you bit your lip and felt your vision go out of focus, the ceiling of your room spinning as the whole place seemed to shake from the force of his hips.

“Don’t look away,” Jungkook spoke, breathing heavily and setting himself up for failure because he nearly collapsed as soon as you returned your eyes to his – all dark and clouded with near-euphoric delight. “I want you to look at me when you come, yeah? Will you do that for me, baby—please?”

“Y-yes—” you managed, barely getting the word out before you felt Jungkook readjust his weight by leaning on one arm and lowering his other one to your core.

He brought his thumb over your clit and, matching the speed of his hips thrusting in and out of you, he began to rub circles on your already over-stimulated center.

“Jungkook!” you weren’t sure if you were screaming, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears as you felt yourself tip over the edge. “Oh, fuck, fuck—right there!”

“Y-yeah? Does that feel good, baby?,” he groaned, “I can’t hold out for much longer, so I’m going to need you to come for me. Hmm?”

“I’m—please, fuck—” your pleas turned into an incomprehensible mess when Jungkook applied more pressure to your clit, flicking it before rubbing it in circles again, and you were completely done for.

Throwing your head back against the mattress and lifting your hips to meet his, you reached your high and Jungkook – cursing and trying his hardest not to lose his balance – bit his lip because he knew he was going to follow right after you.

His hips had slowed, although only a little, as he continued the assault on your senses by thrusting his throbbing member into you and simultaneously rubbing your clit all through your orgasm. 

Your warm walls that hugged his length tightened around him when you came and, groaning loudly, he felt his own climax take over him. He stopped moving with one final thrust into you, loud grunts mixed with your name leaving his lips as he released himself into the condom.

Breathing heavily but still not getting enough oxygen, you both stayed still as you tried to recover.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook exhaled when he regained some control of his body. His eyes met yours and he did not hesitate before adding, “I love you. I’ve loved you for so fucking long.”

You allowed a heavy moment of silence to pass as you watched him. Then, you propped yourself up on your elbows and brought your lips to his. The kiss may have been less enthusiastic than the one in the hallway earlier tonight, but it still didn’t lack any heat.

“I love you,” you replied, the words as pointless as they were necessary, because your feelings for each other had been obvious from the very beginning, but neither of you confronted them. “I’ve loved you for much longer.”

“No,” he disagreed, kissing you again as he pulled out of you and rolled off to the edge of the bed so he could discard of the condom. Turning to look at you one more time before standing up, he said, very matter-of-fact, “I’ve loved you my whole life. Through every happy moment and every fuck-up, and every—”

With your lips stretching into a smile, you warned, “don’t try to one-up me with your pillowtalk.”

He already had his back turned to you as he walked towards the bin in the corner of your room, but you heard him laugh. When he turned around to return to you, there was a wide smile on his bright, red lips, still wet and swollen from kissing you.

“That’s not pillowtalk,” he countered, laying down next to you and draping an arm over your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck with a delighted hum, “that’s just me telling you what I was supposed to tell you on the day I talked to you at my party.”

“I’m glad you told me now,” you replied, lifting one of your hands to touch his disheveled hair and the few stray curls that were stuck to his sweaty forehead, “even if you did cause a scene today.”

The softness of your touch was almost the exact opposite of the hidden razor-sharp meaning behind your words. Jungkook – who’d closed his eyes so he could breathe you in – suddenly lifted himself up on his elbows and gave you an inquiring look.

“I did not cause a scene,” he said, not in a very defensive manner because he did not think he needed to defend himself, “I was peacefully waiting for you to come back home. You caused a scene when you saw me.”

“I—oh, wow,” you scoffed in surprise, “you really are an expert at blame-shifting.”

He would have protested – and he was going to – but laying here next to you, with not a single piece of clothing preventing him from feeling the softness of your skin, he just shrugged. There were far more important things to focus on, he decided as he traced indiscernible patterns on your navel.

“Don’t do that again, though, okay?” you asked him then.

Smiling – because he was proud of his title as the resident Little Shit – Jungkook replied, “which part, exactly?”

The feeling of his fingertips dancing on your stomach was distracting, but you persevered for the greater good.

“Don’t change all of your plans if I spend time with someone else,” you said, swallowing. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

“I won’t.”

His promise was brief but he leaned down to kiss you to seal it, and the feeling of his lips against yours had more impact than just his words alone. Then, pulling away a moment too soon, Jungkook surprised you with a warning look in his eyes.

“But don’t ask me not to kiss you in public,” he said. “Don’t ask me not to hold your hand. Don’t—”

You blinked, not following him. “W-wait, why? I wasn’t going to ask.”

“No, but you already did. At the last party we went to?” he said and then tried to jog your memory by adding, in a vexed tone, “when you were talking to Brock, and I—”

The party – and the long, long conversation that followed – returned to your mind even before the mention of Brock. You were just trying to understand why Jungkook was thinking about all of that now.

“Well, that’s because you were being a possessive dipshit,” you told him as an explanation, not an excuse.

You weren’t apologizing for standing up for yourself when you felt like your dignity was threatened, and he didn’t need you to. What he needed, was for you to understand that:

“I still am a possessive dipshit,” he said with the most unapologetic grin you’d ever seen adorning his features.

“Oh, yeah?” you raised your eyebrows, the mock-surprise completing your sarcastic look, “would not have guessed.”

“Funny,” he leaned down to kiss you again before making it clear, “I can’t stop myself from wanting everyone to know—”

“But they do know,” you said, cutting him off but not sharply, “everyone knows, Jungkook. You’ve made your point.”

“No, people still have doubts about us,” he said, “they’re still not fully convinced that you’re—that we’re together,” he paused, flashing back to the night at the party and remembering the words you’d said to him then, “but they don’t matter. It’s not about them. It’s about us. And I don’t want to imply that I own you or that you’re an object—or anything of the sort. I know you’re a person. You’re a great person. And you belong to yourself. You’re yours. B-but can you be a little bit mine, too?”

“I am,” you said and, even though you may not have always liked it, this was the truth. There was no way around it. So, pressing a soft kiss to his waiting lips, you admitted, “I’ve always been yours as much as I’ve been mine.”

keep reading | masterlist

[alittlebitmaybe]

i’ll stay warm

for @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo​!

Prompt: ice skating

Relationship: Geraskier

Rating: G (with very mild language and a tiny bit of blood)

Warnings: None

Other Tags: Fluff, Companionable Snark, Already Dating But Too Dumb To Notice, First Kiss

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Read more on ao3 or below the cut!

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Geralt says, “Why?”

“Because Priscilla asked me along, and it’s good fun, and you can do all sorts of loop-de-loops and swirlies and spinnies and whozits and, uh, whatzits. I dunno, Pris knows all the tricks, I never got the hang of it. But, Geralt, people have been doing this in Oxenfurt for years. It’s the only way fashionable and exciting persons such as I pass the winter these days, gliding as an angel over the ice, cheeks chapped fetchingly pink, you know, it’s all very attractive, one may say winsome—”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in the small chair and tucks his shoulders in. He takes up too much space in Jaskier’s quarters, and already he rues the day he agreed, in a fit of insanity, to pass the season in the city instead of trekking up to Kaer Morhen as usual. “You’re going to die.”

Jaskier hacks a laugh into his steaming mug and nearly spills tea all down his robed front.

“Nonsense!” he cries, once he has recovered himself. “We go every year once the freeze is hard enough, me and Pris and all my many other dazzling friends, which I absolutely have.”

“And if Priscilla told you it was fashionably good fun to walk yourself off a cliff…”

“I’d do it, obviously,” says Jaskier, not missing a beat. “Haven’t you ever had to cross a frozen river on your travels, Witcher? How’d you go about it then, if not on skates?”

Geralt levels him an incredulous look. “How would I get a horse across a frozen river?” he asks, and Jaskier frowns in thought as he takes another sip.

“I mean, you could just—,” he mimes pushing outward with one palm, “—give ‘er a good shove and see how far she gets.”

“Could give you a good shove. Bet you wouldn’t make it far.”

“I’ll have you know, I have the grace of a, a, er…elk? Are elk graceful?”

Geralt nods and says seriously, “Especially the newborns.”

“There you have it. Graceful as a tiny baby elk with those on my feet, I am.”

“Maybe you should wear them all the time.”

“What good would that…” he starts, and then comes, “Hey. Rude. Remind me why I wanted you here?”

Geralt grins and shrugs. His own mug is on the small table, and he sniffs the steam coming off of it. Floral. He takes a sip. Carefully does not spit it back out. Sets the mug back down farther away.

When he has successfully resisted the urge to spit on the floor to clear out his mouth and looks back up, Jaskier is still holding his own mug gently in the curl of his long fingers, and a lock of rumpled hair has fallen into his eyes. His robe hangs open at his collarbone, down the line of his chest. He wears a strange expression that lies between the exasperation Geralt expected and something startlingly softer.

“So you’ll come with us,” he states.

“Someone has to take your body back to your mother when you break your neck,” Geralt says.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You jest, but Mum would be thrilled to see you. Likes you better than me, I think. Her only son! But you’ll come, eh?”

Geralt ducks his head quickly to hide the smile creeping across his face, grabbing his boots and yanking at the laces before acquiescing, “Yeah, I’ll come.”

“There now,” Jaskier says, appeased, “that wasn’t so hard, was it.” He knocks back the dregs of his tea, then stands and pads to the sink, talking on. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t let you stay cooped up in here all winter. I’ll have to see if I can dig out my spare pair of skates, they’re older—animal bone, not iron—but they might be big enough for your witcher feet, and it really works just as well. Or maybe Pris knows someone…I even heard they’re renting the things out down at the river now. Industrious, isn’t it, the ways people come up with to make some coin?…”

Geralt half-listens as he ties neat knots, lost somewhere in the midst of mulling over what Jaskier has described, trying to give it the benefit of the doubt despite its obvious frivolity. Based on the day’s weather it will be a clear night with a brisk breeze, a bright moon. The wind chill will have them each bundled up in furs, and the tip of Jaskier’s nose will go pink as he rubs his gloved hands together for warmth and glances happily over at Geralt. The river ice will be torchlit and smooth as glass, and they’ll strap on their skates and step out onto it. They’ll have a good hold on each others arms, for balance, but then as they gain their footing they’ll find their fingers threaded together and neither will let go. Geralt will listen to the quickened beat of Jaskier’s heart as they pick up the pace, and eventually Jaskier will break their hold to skate backward and taunt Geralt with a small twirl that ends only a little unsteadily. Geralt will smirk and give chase, chuckling when Jaskier squawks and takes off at speed. It’s no use, of course, even with Geralt’s inexperience; Geralt will anticipate his movements, head him off, catch him by the wrist, by the shoulder, and they will collide chest to chest with a huff, the momentum from the chase sliding them a few more feet across the ice before they come to a halt. Their cold noses will almost be touching, there will be frost on the riverbank, there will be a distant owl hooting its nighttime song. Jaskier will quirk his lips and say, “Gotcha, Witcher,” and Geralt will lean in, feel his hot breath, press their lips together—

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, tapping him on the shoulder. A hand waves in front of his face. Geralt keeps his expression carefully neutral as he comes out of his sudden reverie, though he’s been caught red handed. “Are you meditating? We’ve got to be off to the market. Have you even been listening to me?”

“Never,” says Geralt, and Jaskier scoffs and whacks him gently upside the head.

*

The riverbank smells like dead fish.

Geralt knew this. He doesn’t know what he expected. He doesn’t know where the pine-scented idyllic winter wonderland from his earlier distraction even came from, because it couldn’t be farther from reality.

Besides the fish stink, his boots squish and stick unpleasantly in the muddy ground, and the place is teeming with cityfolk, the crowd so thick that you can’t see the opposite bank even despite the abundant torchlight.

“Are you sure it’s frozen solid enough for this?” Geralt asks sourly.

“Of course,” Jaskier replies.

Geralt’s frown deepens. “Couldn’t we go around the bend where there’s not so many people?”

“And where’s the fun in that?”

“Breathing room.”

“I asked about the fun, Geralt. Ah, there’s my girl!”

Priscilla pushes through a group of loitering teenagers and throws her arms around Jaskier’s neck, only her toes left on the mud. “Jask! I see you got your…friend to join us.”

She pauses before friend, eyeing him overtly, but Geralt doesn’t notice because one of the teenagers has been shoved, giggling, into him by another of the group. He steadies her, and does not react when she turns to apologize, catches his unnatural gaze, and stifles her laughter. He doesn’t see Jaskier watching him past Priscilla’s ear, the fond crinkling around his eyes when Geralt gently straightens her and returns her to her place in the circle, which subsequently puts a few feet between itself and the newly-noticed witcher.

“It was either this or die of boredom in the dark, wasn’t it, Geralt?” Jaskier says finally as he releases Priscilla.

“I chose the dark,” Geralt lies, and Jaskier sticks out his tongue.

“Well,” Priscilla says, straightening her skirts, “shall we?”

Geralt pulls both sets of skates from his deep cloak pockets and passes the iron pair to Jaskier, who hops around indelicately while securing them over his boots, rather than plop himself on the soft ground—which is, of course, what Geralt does to put on his own. Priscilla and Jaskier waste a few minutes on a tiff over whether it is polite or belittling for Jaskier to insist on helping her with her own skates whether she wants it or not, but eventually they are all ready to go.

Geralt is the first to the ice. He tests the toe of his bone skate against it, judging the friction of it, deciding if it is likely to hold his weight even with the evidence of the dozens of people currently gliding and spinning past him. It seems stable. Stepping out, he finds it surprisingly easy to get a feel for balance, the minute shifts of weight that send him one direction or the other. He swings himself wide and turns around to see Priscilla and Jaskier also stepping out onto the river, Jaskier clutching tightly to Priscilla’s sleeve, face white and eyes trained on his feet.

“It’s okay, darling, you’ve got this. You made such good progress last time, come on now,” Geralt can hear Priscilla murmuring under the loud chatter of nearby skaters.

When Jaskier sees Geralt watching them, he bodily removes Priscilla’s hands from his person and says, “Please, Pris, I’m a capable man.”

She bristles immediately, leaving him to stand on his own. “And I wasn’t a capable woman when I was putting on my skates?”

Jaskier ignores her to begin shuffling awkwardly across the ice, his knees locked straight.

“Jaskier?” Geralt says apprehensively.

“Doing peachy, thanks, it’ll come back to me, just need to recall how to, um—oh no—” Jaskier starts with a strained voice before he promptly stops, because he has begun to slide inexorably forward. Priscilla and Geralt both reach toward him, but they’re too late; Jaskier’s arms wheel wildly, he tilts on wobbly ankles, and he faceplants onto the ice.

“Ow,” squeaks the Jaskier-shaped lump.

*

“I think your nose is broken,” says Geralt. He dabs at the blood on Jaskier’s top lip with the edge of his own cloak. They are safely back on the bank, and Jaskier is, this time, sitting in the mud. “I guess you were right,” he goes on wryly. “You’re exactly as graceful as a baby elk.”

“I knew you were making fun of me,” Jaskier says thickly, due to the nose injury. “I also knew you’d be a natural. Bastard. I could never get the hang of this stupid bullshit.”

Geralt hums and wipes off the last of the blood. At least it’s clotted quickly. Maybe it’s not a break.

“You didn’t need to lie about your abilities. Who are you trying to impress?”

Jaskier snorts, then winces in pain. His fingers twist in his lap. “Oh, that’s funny.”

Now, Geralt is often joking, but he’s fairly certain that that wasn’t one. Did Jaskier also hit his head? He pushes back Jaskier’s fringe to check his forehead for signs of bruising and doesn’t find any. “Um,” he says, “what is?”

Priscilla skates past holding hands with a woman that Geralt thinks she met approximately three minutes ago. She calls, “All right, Jask?” and in reply, Jaskier gives her a bitter thumbs up. She winks and swoops away as quickly as she came.

“Because I was trying to impress you, obviously,” he answers, gazing after her, before he turns his eyes back to Geralt.

Geralt pauses. “Why?”

“Because I’m actually always trying to impress you. And everyone else, constantly, but…mostly you.”

“You don’t do a very good job of it,” he says, and regrets it when he hears how it sounds coming out of his mouth.

Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine, if a little wistful, like Geralt has amused but not surprised him. “I am well aware, thanks.”

He reaches for the words that will take that edge of resignation off Jaskier’s face, feeling like a fumbling fool. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you don’t need to try to impress me.”

“Yes, I know it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help—”

“No,” Geralt interrupts, “I mean you don’t need to try because you do.” He clears his throat. “Impress me.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier, and then nothing more. “That’s. Okay.”

“Yeah,” says Geralt. He has never been so exposed in his life. He thinks that’s probably a bad thing. “How’s your nose? We could try again, if you want.”

Jaskier looks around at the laughing crowds and shrugs. “Came all this way, got all bundled up. Might as well! I’m sticking with you this time, though.”

They find a spot at the farthest reach of the torchlight where the ice is less populated to step out. Geralt goes first, as before, and finds his footing even faster this time. He returns to Jaskier’s side after a moment of testing the reliability of his newfound skills, and presents his forearm as a handhold.  Jaskier does not protest about his capability this time and takes the offering. With a long preparatory exhale, he puts one foot and then the other onto the ice.

“I’ve got you,” Geralt says quietly.

Jaskier replies, “I know you do.”

“Can’t let more harm come to the money maker. I’ve gotten used to staying in inns.”

“Good gods,” says Jaskier, “I’ve broken him.”

They gradually move farther from the bank. “Loosen up,” Geralt tells him. “Don’t lock your knees. It’s like you’re trying to fall over.”

Jaskier grumbles but takes the advice, and eventually he gains the confidence to move a little faster, though not to stop hanging on to Geralt. They stay on the fringes where they are less likely to be run into by a distracted stranger, gliding along at pace, with Jaskier remarking on the who’s-who of Oxenfurt society who are also out tonight. Geralt recognizes some of the more powerful names, but mostly he lets Jaskier chatter on so he doesn’t think too hard about his feet.

Priscilla passes by and greets them a few more times with her new companion, who at one point proclaims, “You two are so cute together!” before Priscilla drags her back into the mob. Geralt glances over and thinks Jaskier might be blushing, but that might also be due to the swelling around his nose.

“Should ice your face,” says Geralt.

“Sure, later. Hey!” He swings around to face Geralt, stopping their progress. “Spin me!” At Geralt’s no doubt dubious expression, he pouts. “Geralt, I demand to be spun. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine,” Geralt sighs.

He takes Jaskier’s hand, and has a flash of his daydream. There’s too many people, and it does still smell like fish, but this isn’t too far off—

He collects himself, holds their joined hands over Jaskier’s head, and gives him a little push to start him spinning, not too quick, but Jaskier takes it upon himself to propel himself a little faster. Jaskier laughs and maintains his balance remarkably well, until he exclaims “Oops—dizzy—!” and topples directly into Geralt, succeeding in knocking them both down, Geralt on his own back, Jaskier flat on his chest.

Geralt, trapped between the frigid ice and Jaskier’s weight, looks up as Jaskier starts to laugh. The steam of his breath hits Geralt’s cheek, and his knitted hat has gone askew, and his nose is turning purple, and Geralt puts his hand around the back of Jaskier’s neck and pulls him down and kisses him.

Jaskier leans away. “What?” he asks, eyes wide, then continues, “oh, who cares,” and leans back down.

*

Later, with an ice pack pressed to Jaskier’s face and two more hot mugs at the kitchen table, Geralt watches Jaskier rummage through his cupboards. He comes back with two packets, one matching the floral tea from earlier and a different one. He hands the latter to Geralt.

“Black tea,” he says, “for you. Noticed you didn’t like my herbal stuff. I don’t either, to be honest, but I already spent the coin on it.”

“Thanks,” Geralt replies, oddly touched.

As Jaskier passes Geralt to take his seat, he leans down and pecks him on the cheek. Smiling faintly beneath the ice pack, he says, “You know, Witcher, I’m glad you’re here and not up in some weird lonely castle,” and Geralt finds that he is, too.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing #81 Review

i swear i actually thought no one was interested so i didn’t write one but a grand total of two (2) people said they wanted to read it, so here it is. honestly, my opinion’s been going a bit downhill, but the art is really cool and there are some decent parts so. holding out i guess? i really hope taylor has an end goal or at least a cohesive plan, otherwise i don’t see this series going anywhere i’ll particularly enjoy

the cover is very straightforward in its imagery, this villain has nightwing in the palm of his hand, easily manipulated, easily controlled no matter the action dick thinks he’ll take. 

what i find interesting is the colour: both previously and heavily in this issue, the colourist has chosen to make pink this villain’s main colour, with different shades of pink as accents. so why the red in the cover? possibly to just make it more eye-grabbing, though one could argue that pink is even more eye-catching than red. maybe to convey a sense of dread or fear that pink won’t fully get across. either way, it’s definitely a decision i’m curious about.

so melinda zucco is in a high enough political position within bludhaven that she is next in line to become the mayor after the previous mayor died and dick just,,,,didn’t have any idea she existed? dick didn’t know anything about her? forget dick’s own brilliant detective skills, forget his doggedness at anything zucco related, you’re telling me bruce never found her and told dick about her? maybe he wouldn’t have now, but back when dick was a young kid, he definitely would have at least made dick aware of her existence, to let dick know and ask if he wanted to interfere with her life or anything.

i have a thought about zucco’s facial expressions. she is very much stone-cold poker face throughout the entire issue. the only time i see her pull a different expression is near the end when dick corners her against a wall with an arm around her throat. 

this is most certainly intentional, what with the varied and intense expressions we see on other characters, dick most prominently. i’m wondering what exactly is the creative team’s reasoning behind this. in these panels, zucco is meeting with the most dangerous, powerful, near-bloodthirsty man in all of bludhaven and becoming the mayor of the city respectfully. in both of these panels, there is barely a hint of emotion in her face: no fear, no determination, no satisfaction. it’s just odd, considering the circumstances she’s in, regardless of any training recieved.

just spitballing here but. like. from what i’ve read so far, dick doesn’t really seem like bludhaven’s guardian angel. more like when peter parker first put on spandex and blindly stepped out into new york.

dick, how exactly can you underestimate someone from one move. so he caught your escrima. anyone with enhanced reflexes can do that. you still don’t know how he can actually fight, and this is shown in the next set of panels. 

i just don’t like the wording here. dick’s “underestimated” him, but beats him up easy in the next page. in addition, i don’t know much about combat, but i would assume it would take more than one move to determine exactly what an opponent’s skill level is, made even more complex when you add physical enhancements and metahumans and aliens into the mixture.

idk my first thought when i saw that he caught the stick was “ah ok he’s enhanced” because obviously he couldn’t have reacted fast enough if he wasn’t (as there are few people trained enough to catch it on human reflexes alone.) then the wording in the next panel, i’ve underestimated him, made me think “oh no ok so he’s not enhanced, he’s just a really good fighter and can give dick a run for his money in a fight.” then, it turns out my first assumption was proven correct in the next panel. it just comes across as misleading to me.

(also sidenote but his curls are cute.)

have i praised the art enough in this series? no, i have not.

i adore the way this is laid out and illustrated. without even having to read the text, the action sequence is visually engaging and intense, and easily followable from one panel to the next. dick’s physical expertise comes through quite efficiently, and i love the special attention shown to draw our attention to dick’s escrima in the bottom right corner.

also that move in the middle row leftmost panel that’s the mcu black widow move to get up off the ground it was the first thing i noticed and it made me laugh; thought it was worth noting

i’m really loving dick’s escrima sticks in this run. they’re just so multipurpose, it’s hilarious and exhilarating. kinda reminds me of bruce’s belt, the way the button in the middle does eevveeerrryyytthhiinngg. 

got a problem? don’t worry! dick’s installed a feature into his escrima that can fix that! (i like thinking dick helped make them it makes me happy and makes my engineer!dick side satisfied)

yawn. your big heart is your one true weakness yadda yadda the fact that you care will be used against you blah blah we get it. jesus can the villains please find a different weakness to exploit, this is getting old.

i need dick’s capacity to empathize and care and love to stop being a weakness that villains sneer about. bonus points if dick saves everyone anyway, either because of or despite his great big heart and the villain is surprised by the goodness of mankind or some shit like that.

i need it to be a strength, right from the get-go. the fact that he cares so incredibly much should be an asset that dick has and will use. he’s a very complex character with years of background, it can’t possibly be that hard to find another weakness of his. 

ooooh this is cool, gosh i absolutely love this.

because what exactly is the reader doing? we are seeing the fear in dick’s face, just as this villain intended. even better, we’re seeing the reflection of it from the villain’s glossy mask, telling us exactly what we’re seeing and exactly what he likes so much about it.

dick’s standing up straight, shoulders drawn back, looking up at this villain’s face with determination and resolve, but his suit is tattered. one eye looks to be swollen. his hair is falling limply around his eyes, as opposed to the curls from earlier. his escrima aren’t even part of the main focus, instead blending into the side of the mask in the outer corners of the mask’s eyes, which tells you exactly how big of a threat they are to this villain.

poor bitewing’s quite alarmed.

also on second thought why would you bring your puppy out like this, when you know you’re gonna end up fighting someone in the suit. a) how many grey three-legged adorable little puppies live in the bludhaven area dick? and how easy will it be to connect the doggo running around with nightwing with the doggo that dick grayson owns? and 2) is this puppers trained? does she have fighting experience? how exactly can you ensure she will survive this highly stressful situation?

dick take better care of your dog 

you know what? i was with tim on this one. why exactly is dick so optimistic and trusting about the people of bludhaven? bludhaven, which has been described as gotham’s smaller, smellier, more corrupt sister city once or twice. it’s not just the corrupt people in power, the entire system needs to change and people need to have faith and hope in order for them to come together, espcially if they’ve been living in conditions like how bludhaven has been described. from how clueless dick is about his own goddamn city, i can tell he hasn’t been here long.

it was a nice moment of hope, i’ll admit. but it was a tad unrealistic for me.

also it was in a weird place in the comic. this sort of confrontation and big get-together of the people to rejuvenate hope in each other feels like it should come near the end of a run, if not the end of an issue. certainly not in the first third of an issue. the pacing’s a bit off to me.

loyal little puppy patiently waiting for her human to wake up. i love her so much.

no it’s not. it’s bitewing.

living for this t-shirt honestly. do comics of dc characters exist in the dc universe? they must if the mug and the shirt are any indication

(now i’m imagining the first batman movie that came out in the dc universe and bruce just. being so offended at who they chose to play him.)

well, yes. but when a group of people are put through hellish conditions over and over again, they soon become desensitized to the pain and terror of their everyday lives in order to both stay sane and keep their life relatively stable, and part of that becomes ignoring or blocking out anything that isn’t directly important to you or your loved ones. having a bleeding heart will most likely get you killed in a city like bludhaven if you don’t have the same skills that vigilantes have.

and of course, people are more than capable of coming together and rallying under their city’s vigilante after seeing the good they’ve done and how they’ve helped the people, but that sort of trust takes time and effort to build. dick also had the whole ric arc and was gone for a while, which has been referenced several times in this particular issue in fact. that’s not going to make bludhaven’s citizens any more likely to trust him.

maybe i’m being a bit harsh but this comic is comic off as a bit too idealistic for the amount of change nightwing can do in a city given the present and past circumstances as well as nightwing’s own abilities. even dick grayson can’t pull off everything.

ok seriously this needs to stop this needs to stop.

right now, dick reminds me of oliver queen in the few episodes of the cw’s arrow i watched. he does the punchy-kicky-fighty and occasionally has smart insights due to the skills he gained from his past that he certainly definitely totally has but only ever exhibits once, while his team does all of the background research and information gathering and actual work.

this is dick’s city. if he has the same intelligence, worth ethic, and stubbornness in this run that he’s been shown to possess all his life, then he knows this city inside out. he’ll have meticulous notes organized in a ridiculously efficient system, he’ll have scouted out zucco long before this started, he’ll have known when anything big happened in the bludhaven political landscape in an instant.

i’m really not liking exactly how much dick’s relying on babs and tim in this series. sure, he loves them and cares for them and likes working cases with them. but he always pulls his own weight, has always been a mentor figure to tim instead of what’s weirdly becoming the other way around, and takes point on the cases in his own damn city.

what kind of weak-ass oracle is this?? redacted fbi files are child’s play. babs used to hack into the fbi for fun. this one particular picture is so out of character i want to laugh.

reading this series has unfortunately made me confront that, despite the tiny fluid acrobat dick that lives in my head 24/7, canon dick is impossibly 5′10 and muscular at that.

mmm. titties.

tim said hydrate or die-drate bitch

love how dick’s doing all this intense brooding and stuff meanwhile bitewing is curled up in a soft comfy post having the time of her life.

you don’t understand i would legitimately kill myself for her.

also the lighting in this one scene is cool. the blue tones come off so well.

they’re just. so multipurpose!! they can become a bo staff. they can cut glass. they can become a grapple hook/line. they can electrify someone. they’re a funky colour. i’m becoming really attached to these things. absolute solid choice in weaponry.

if you’re gonna write up every rookie mistake dick has made during this series to head trauma, then dick shouldn’t be out and about at all, much less in costume.

see this? this is just straight up wrong. dick most definitely should have spotted her, and would have immediately moved to take her down.

scratch that, dick would have done a full check of the building, because he knows not to break into places uninformed, especially if the owner of the apartment was raised by the maroni family. someone as highly trained, experienced, and competent as dick wouldn’t have done this.

and if you chalk it up to head injury, (which is probably true), than his ~love interest~ and his little brother should have done a much better job making sure he stays in his house.

zucco looks so awkward it’s fucking hilarious

are those shadows that mimic a domino mask, to both reflect and hide the fact that his mask is missing? are those bruises around his eyes, to show how, despite what good he’s doing, being nightwing is hurting dick right now? 

(isn’t his domino mask supposed to have an electrifying feature that keeps people from removing them?)

it’s a little odd how the three known villains of this series are all coloured in warm shades, more specifically pink. meanwhile, in earlier issues, dick’s fondest memories were in pink, memories of him and alfred in particular. why has the colour pink changed from signifying something benevolent to something malicious? idk i hope this gets explained later.

this i did like. either it’s just a display of brute force in anger, or dick slipped the ties and pulled them off once untied. both ways, it’s an unintentional display of power, and i think that’s kinda cool.

again. dick is,,,tall? sort of? weirdddd

i’m so glad most readers are unified in the notion that this was the absolute dumbest fucking thing.

i’m hoping this gets disproved or something soon. and i hope dick doesn’t fall for it, because he definitely knows better than to take something as important as this at face value.

what exactly is taylor trying to accomplish here? why is he trying to go back on what we all knew was a happy, loving childhood and throw strife and disharmony and (what i’m assuming will be) infidelity? this will not end well at all.

---

,,,,,this review got way longer than expected lol. and i realize most of it just became me ranting. i guess i didn’t realize how ticked off i was originally. fingers crossed it gets better.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds​ @comics-observer

[alicedopey]

The Wallflower

Gorgeous moodboard made by the talented @naaladareia Thanks babe !

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Hvitserk x Plus-size reader

Genre: Modern AU, Drama, Angst, Romance

Words: 1742

Warnings: Angst, some self-depreciation (barely)

Summary: The only thing you wish for is to dance...

A/N: Here is my contribution to @youbloodymadgenius​ 1k Celebration. I’ll let you find out which famous line I picked up, it would spoil the plot. This might turn into a multipart series, depends if you like this one or not.

Your boss was a flirt. Well, one of them was, to be exact. When every employee of the food company you were working for had learnt that two young Danish men had bought the firm from your very American boss, brows were raised. What would they make of it?

Two years later, it turned out they had drastically changed it and made it one of the most famous brands of Danish food in the United States. Those different brothers seemed to complete each other and formed an effective duet.

Ivar was very professional, blunt, harsh sometimes but his mind was swirling with ideas and he knew how to deal with all the competitors his company could cross path with.

Hvitserk was…quite the opposite. He was the cook so he was very creative and more easy-going, funny, smiling and very friendly. Sometimes, he was even too friendly; you reminded yourself as you heard a fit of giggles coming from your other female colleagues on the other side of the room where Hvitserk was probably telling one of his silly stories or praising the women with endless compliments.

It would be a lie to pretend that he was not very charming but contrary to most of your colleagues, you did not take the praises coming out of his mouth very seriously. It was just in his nature to flirt with every girl he met and that also included an older and heavier woman like you. In your mind, Hvitserk could not date a woman like you but rather a perfect looking woman who would shine next to him. It was perfectly fine. Your curves were not everyone’s cup of tea but you did not mind because they were yours and you loved them – well, more like learned to love them.

“So…what did you decide to do for your reunion this weekend?”

Your brows furrowed at your closest colleague’s question and your eyes looked away from Hvitserk. “What do you mean? I already told you I was going.”

“Not that.” Lisa scoffed. “Did you find someone to go with?”

“I did not look for anybody. I’m going alone.”

“You can’t do that.” She replied in a categorical tone. “This would be highly humiliating.”

Lisa was known for being overdramatic over many things so you were not surprised she was reacting this way.

“I was single at the time, you know.” You tried to reason patiently with her. “So, it won’t be a surprise for them if that still is the case fifteen years later.”

Her eyes widened. “You are kidding, right?” She exclaimed a little bit too loud for your liking. “You have to…okay, you know what? I will help you find someone. In fact, I think my brother is free this weekend. I can ask him, he wouldn’t mind.”

“No, thank you.” You had already met the man. He was nice and handsome but not very discreet, just like his sister. “Besides, I don’t like the blind date thing.”

Lisa leaned forwards and whispered, “Pay someone then…” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Right. Paying for a man to play your date, way to boost your ego. You knew Lisa meant well but the more she kept suggesting things, the more humiliated you felt. “No.”

She looked at you as if you were too stubborn for your own good. “You know, having a date means you would be able to dance…”

You sighed. She clearly knew which weak spot to strike on. “Lisa…”

“Good morning, ladies!”

The two of you startled at Hvitserk’s voice. “What’s the topic today?”

“Convincing Y/N to bring a date to her high school reunion.” Lisa answered without thinking. She instantly mouthed an “I’m sorry” as Hvitserk looked at you questioningly.

Thankfully, he did not have the time to make any comment as Ivar entered the room. Every employee ran back to work and even Hvitserk left hurriedly to join his brother, which brought a smile to your lips.

                                               ¤    ¤

The rest of the week went in a blur. After her little mishap, Lisa did not insist on the date issue and Hvitserk did not mention anything either. He probably did not care or even remember it for that matter. So, that Friday night, you got dressed with a nice dark blue dress, high heels, called for an Uber and arrived at your high school, ready to have a good time.

The moment you entered the enormous gymnasium of your old high school when the party was taking place, you were brought back to the past. Some of your friends instantly greeted you and you were all so happy to see each other again and share some memories that none of you really lost too much time thinking about your current marital status or your professional situation.

There was a huge buffet to enjoy, the music was a nice reflecting of the past parties you had attended. Everyone enjoyed themselves on the dance floor, especially you.

Dancing was a real joy and a great opportunity to express yourself. When you were dancing, you forgot everything and everyone around you to just focus on the music and how it made you feel free and finally yourself.

Then, slow-dancing time came. This was the moment when you had to get out of the picture and go back to your usual spot, against a pillar or a wall.

Being curvy had its flaws when you were a teenager. You could not say you had suffered from bullying because you had a strong personality and was not afraid to fight back when you needed to. No. The worse part was during the parties. No boy would invite you to dance, even amongst your friends. It looked like friendship had its limits. You thought things could change with time since teenage years were always considered as the hardest ones when you did not fit in completely. You were clearly wrong. You were an adult now and no men wanted to dance with the fat girl. Nothing had changed and nothing would.

You watched the couples on the dance floor with a sting in your chest. It was probably time for you to go home instead of brooding like you usually did.

“Care to dance?” Your eyes turned away from the dancing couples to meet those of the owner’s voice. Your jaw opened slightly when you saw Hvitserk Ragnarsson standing in front of you dressed in a dark suit, his middle length hair tied in a loose bun.

“Come on.” He extended his hand. “Nobody puts baby in a corner.”

You smiled and put your hand in his. Hvitserk led you to the dance floor. He pulled your curvaceous body against his hard one, his hand on the small of your back and the two of you gently swayed to the music. This was completely new to you, it felt so nice. Tears were welling up in your eyes so you closed them for a few seconds. When you opened them back, the green eyes of your boss were looking at you with gentleness and concern.

You smiled. “Why are you here, Mister Ragnarsson?”

“Hvitserk.” He replied. “Why don’t we enjoy the night, first? I promise I will answer all of your questions afterwards.”

You nodded. Hvitserk winked at you.

                                              ¤   ¤

The two of you did enjoy your night. After sharing a few dances, Hvitserk met your friends. He introduced himself as your boyfriend which led you to choke on your drink. Nonetheless, you did not correct him, secretly enjoying the fact that some of your friends were watching you with some obvious jealousy. It was a nice change for once.

At the end of the night, Hvitserk offered to drive you home and you accepted. The ride was silent, awfully silent but you did not wish to break this silence. You felt almost afraid to ask him why he was here because you did not want to discover this was out of pity.

Almost too soon, he parked in front of your little house and turned off the engine. You knew there was no other chance to escape explanation time.

“You did not have to do it, you know.” You finally said, your eyed fixed on the windshield. “As I said to Lisa, I don’t mind going alone. I certainly do not need…”

“Pity?”

This made you look at him. “Exactly.”

“I don’t do the pity thing, I only do what I want to do. And I can assure you I wanted to be with you tonight…I just wish you would have asked me.”

You felt a little bit comforted at his words but choose not to read too much into them. “Thank you, then. I had a great night.”

“I did too. Would do it again whenever you want to.”

Once again, you chose to ignore any deeper meaning behind his words and simply smiled at him. He smiled back.

“So…can I get a good night kiss?”

You burst out laughing at this. Now, that was more like Hvitserk. You chuckled, leaned in and kissed his cheek. His facial hair tickled your lips. Then you realized what you had just done, meaning pecking your boss on the cheek and abruptly straightened up. Heat was creeping up your neck and ears. Hvitserk was looking at you with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

“I did not know you had watched Dirty Dancing.” You blurted out to embarrass him. He chuckled though.

“I never did. I heard it from one of the ladies at the office. Guess I spend too much time in marketing.”

He winked and you felt yourself blushing again although this time, you smiled at him.

“Good night, Hvitserk.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

You got out of the car, walked to your front door, opened it then closed it behind you without even looking back at him once. You did not wish to show him he had charmed you even more, particularly because you were convinced he was not interested in you at all.

But Hvitserk’s eyes never left your body, enjoying its every curve until you had disappeared behind your closed door. Then he started his car and left, a satisfied smile lingering on his lips.

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia​ @tephi101​ @gearhead66​ @therealcalicali​ @ivarswickedqueen​ @akamaiden​ @peaceisadirtyword​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @mblaqgi​ @captstefanbrandt​

[buckyownsmylife]

My Mistakes - Henry Cavill Smut

The one where Henry Cavill was your married professor and he appears on your door one night after his life falls apart.

Warnings: smut, no actual cheating in Henry’s end (althought that’s open for consideration), professor-student relationship (the student’s supposed to be in the process of achieving a PhD), dirty talk (hello, it’s me), sir kink, praise kink, actually quite a lot of fluff because these two are idiots in love

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Henry? What are you doing here?”

Behind him, the rain poured in what would probably be the last summer storm of the year. Once in a while, loud thunder echoed around my empty house, making me jump every single time. Lord knows how much I hated lightning and thunder. 

His curls stuck to his head, some strands in front of his beautiful eyes that held so much emotion I couldn’t identify, but reacted to it nonetheless, goosebumps traveling across my body and my heart speeding up at the sight of my advisor in front of me, in my apartment, on a Saturday night. Granted, he had been here before, but those days of carefree conversations and shared nights where we’d bond over work to grade had disappeared the minute he said ‘I do’ and hid once more behind the shell I had worked so hard to break when we first met. Sure, I missed him. But I also understood the situation, especially now that he had a kid. He was someone else, he had new roles to fill and he was still getting used to his new responsibilities. I was just glad he still confided in me once in a while, allowing me to catch glances of the Henry that I used to know, the one I considered a friend. 

Still, it was probably for the best. I knew I wouldn’t have been able to continue our relationship as it was without suffering considerably, knowing I could never have him, now that he was married. When it was only dating I could deal with it, deluding myself into believing we could actually have something more, that he felt the same way I did when our hands eventually touched while sharing a bottle of wine. 

And there was that night. God, it seemed like a million years ago. We had managed to bring one of his colleagues to do a guest lecture to our class and the whole research group was in a frenzy, the relaxation after so many months of hard work and organization finally starting to hit us. They had all come here, to my house, even the invited professor and his students, and we drank together and laughed for hours. I couldn’t bring myself to care about the fact that I had an exam first thing in the morning, I was having too much fun. 

And not because of our honorable guest, my friends, or the new people I had the opportunity of meeting, oh no. It was all because of Henry. That night, it seemed like all his walls had completely disappeared, leaving a funny, breezy, touchy man behind. I had seen glimpses of this personality before, the one I assumed was his true personality, the one that he never showed to anyone, not even his wife or his mother. It only appeared when we were alone and he was drunk and something incredibly sentimental had happened, like when we had achieved the publication of one of our papers.

The last two boxes were checked, only this time we weren’t alone. But we might as well have been. He clung to me the whole night, even offering me scotch from his own glass before pulling me to him by my waist and wrapping his arms around me, warming me up from the cold breeze of the early morning on my roof. Daniel softly played something on my old guitar and in that moment I knew I would never love anyone just as much as I loved the broken, lonely, needy man holding me.

But then in the morning, he was back to his usual aloof self. And I was left wondering if I had imagined the whole thing, until suddenly he’d look at me in a certain way and I was right back to that moment, in his arms.

Yep. I had it bad for the guy. Good thing ever since he had become a father, we barely saw each other anymore. Whatever little meetings we had, shared cups of coffee and laughter, had vanished the moment his wife found out she was pregnant. It was cute, even, how dedicated he was to little Frank. But that also meant that whatever complaints about marriage and her, that he used to confide in me during those first months after they tied the knot, had simply vanished. They were suddenly the perfect little family.

And I was happy for him. Of course I was. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. After all, what right did I have over him, when we had never even shared a kiss?

Which is what left the whole situation of him appearing in my house in the middle of the night, during a storm, even more bizarre.

“What are you doing here?” I finally let out, rushing him inside. “Come in, you must be freezing.” He didn’t budge. Still staring intently at me, his eyes, that I used to be able to read so well, now indecipherable. 

“He’s not mine,” he whispered, so quietly I barely heard him over the sounds of the storm around him.

“What? Henry, you’re not making any sense right now. Come in, please, you’re worrying me.” Still, he didn’t budge. His tongue came out to wet his lips and I found myself briefly mesmerized by that sight, wondering not for the first time how it would be like to kiss him.

“Frank,” he spoke, breaking me out of my little fantasy at the name of his child. “He’s not mine… He’s not my kid.”

My heart stopped briefly. I knew my eyes had grown twice their usual size, trying to process that information that was so randomly introduced to me in such a weird situation. 

“What? Wait, are you sure? But…” My breath was coming out in quick, shallow huffs, the weight of what he had just shared threatening to asphyxiate me. “How are you feeling, Henry? Wait, that’s a dumb question… Just… Come in, please, let me help you. Let’s talk.” I reached for him, aching to feel him, needing to check his physical integrity for myself. That kid was all he had thought about for the last four months. I knew this discovery had to be killing him.

He shook his head, one of his hands moving his hair out of the way. For a moment, I thought he was refusing my touch and so I let my arms fall next to my body as I pondered just what the hell he was doing here in the first place. 

“You don’t understand. He’s not mine.” He rubbed his eyes and I felt a wave of anger wash over me. Of course I understood what he had said, I wasn’t stupid. The only thing I didn’t understand was what the hell he was doing at my door at two in the morning with this kind of news. “I have no connection to her anymore. To them,” he finally declared and I blinked twice, confused by what precisely he meant by that. “I’m free,” he proceeded, his eyes never leaving mine, still clouded with emotions I remained unable to understand.

“You were never tied to her, or even to him, Henry. You chose that life. You walked into that marriage with your own two feet,” I reminded him, my voice a bit colder than I intended. 

“True,” he admitted, nodding quickly. “But the minute I said ‘I do’ I realized my mistake. What I had left behind, and thought I would never be able to have anymore. And feeling that way… It was worse than any physical imprisonment, Y/N. ”

I had grown impatient by then, my fingers tapping a random pattern at the wooden door I still held onto.

“And what was that, Henry? What did you leave behind?” I inquired, sighing.

A beat. Outside, the storm roared, announcing its intention to stay for as long as it could. Inside, the tension was so high I started to wonder if lightning was about to fall between us, separating us for good.

“You,” he finally confessed and before I could fully comprehend what he had just spluttered, he had latched himself into me, his lips finding mine and his arms pulling me to his wet body. 

A gasp of surprise must have left me before I responded to the kiss, but the sound had been lost in the rain the minute it left my lips and his joined mine. They were cold, as expected, but softer than I had imagined, and oh, how had I imagined this moment. He kissed me sweetly, patiently, like he was savoring his favorite wine that we had shared once. His fingers trembled against my waist as he held me close and I absentmindedly worried about the possibility of him catching pneumonia when he, at last, broke our kiss to catch a breath, still leaving his forehead close to mine, his eyes closed and I suddenly realized he was nervous.

I shivered, not entirely due to the fact that he was freezing from the weather he had subjected himself to and had left me drenched too. “Henry,” I mumbled, trying to get him to look at me. 

“Shhhh…” He pulled me even closer, our foreheads still touching, his eyes never opening. “Just… Let me have this moment, please,” he all but begged, and I felt my heart breaking into a thousand little pieces. He was hurt, understandably so and he had come here looking for a way to make his wife feel the way she had made him feel. 

Another type of cold filled me as I took a step back from him, forcing Henry to release me. I caught a glimpse of his expression, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me just before I turned my back to him, hugging myself and trying to control my thoughts before I started crying. 

“You should leave.” I hated how my voice broke, how weak I felt as I murmured what my mind knew I should say, despite the way my body felt.

I heard the door close behind me after a few seconds and allowed myself to release the breath I was holding as I waited for his reaction, the tears breaking free by then. The first sob had just escaped my chest when I felt arms wrapping around me, a freezing body hugging me from behind.

He waited patiently as I cried, his face hidden in the crook of my neck, his breath tickling me and warming me up as I sobbed. I cried for what felt like hours, the anger of what he was putting me through subsiding and leaving me lamenting for this man who had lost his entire family in a few seconds. 

“You can’t do this to me, Henry,” I wearily breathed out when the tears finally stopped rolling down my cheeks, still not turning around to look at him, who still hugged me. 

“I know,” he confirmed, as he finally raised his head from my neck to rest it on the top of my head. I pursed my lips, wanting to leave him yet again but lacking the strength to do so a second time. “Believe me, I know, darling.”

He finally let me go, walking around me to catch my face in his hands. “You deserve better. So much better than this. So much better than me. You deserve someone who will admit their feelings the minute they lay their eyes on you because you’re intoxicating from the first sight, Y/N.” 

I couldn’t uncross my arms, afraid that if I let at least this last barrier between us go I’d crumble in front of him and let him devour whatever was left of me. 

“You deserve someone who won’t cower in a loveless relationship because they are too afraid to pursue the love of their lives, because they’re scared they’ll disappoint you. I already did. I know.” He sighed, his thumb caressing my cheek with the lightest of touches. 

“You especially deserve someone who doesn’t hide all the time, despite wanting to break free every time you smile or glance my way.” His eyes searched mine, trying to make me see the sincerity in them, but I refused to acknowledge it. This time, I was the one who refused to let him in. 

I broke the connection between our gazes, looking down. I heard his sigh, feeling its echoes on the walls of my heart. 

“I know I lost my opportunity with you,” he whispered, his voice laced with so much pain I had to bite back a whine. “But as soon as I heard the news, as soon as I figured it out… I didn’t even feel angry or sad. I know I should have felt miserable. In a way, I lost a son tonight. But all I could think about was that night I told you I’d be stuck in my office all night grading papers, when in fact I just didn’t want to go home and deal with Olivia, and you appeared with pizza and my favorite bottle of wine, despite the fact that I know that you had Smith’s exam the next day. You stayed with me all night, making idle talk that distracted me to the point I forgot I was engaged and that I had someone waiting for me back home. All I could think about was how that is how it should be. That’s how I should feel every night when I come home. But I only felt it with you. And now that I was given this second chance, this opportunity to go back to a life without the responsibility of being a father, forever connected to a woman I don’t love, I could finally have what I wanted. You.”

My eyes had closed sometime during his remembrance, lost in the flashback too. I had fallen asleep sometime during the early hours of the morning and he took off his jacket to cover me, as I lay on the sofa of his office. The same couch I had found him asleep so many times, as well. I still hugged myself, at last starting to believe he might feel the same way as I did. 

I felt a cold kiss against my forehead, one of his hands gripping my nape tightly to him before letting go. “But I should have known I lost my opportunity. You will find happiness in a relationship sometime soon, with someone good, someone who deserves you and I will be here, wishing you all the best because you deserve it.” I heard his footsteps walking away from me. I wanted to turn around, to open my eyes, to pull him to me and talk about this, talk about how I was feeling about this whole situation, but I felt stuck. And then I heard it.

“Because I love you,” he heaved and suddenly I was not frozen anymore. I was connected to him again, our lips furiously dancing together as I clung to him for dear life. He moaned against my mouth and I felt as if the flames of hell had come to consume me in that precise moment.

His hands slowly traveled down my back until they found my ass. He pulled me to him and I jumped, wrapping my legs around him as I caught onto his signal. My own hands were occupied, one pulling on his hair as I tried to win control over our kiss while the other supported me around his shoulders.

He wobbled a bit, blindly walking backward until his back hit the wall. He turned around then, supporting me against it as he once again disconnected our lips to catch his breath, pressing his forehead to mine once more. “Are you sure about this?” I couldn’t help but to slur, my fingers holding the edge of his button-up shirt tightly. “I can’t be just a revenge plot against your wife, Henry. I honestly don’t think I can take it,” I confessed, inciting the tiniest of smiles on the corner of his lips.

“Darling, you couldn't be more wrong,” he whispered against my lips, quickly kissing them before continuing. “I am the one who wouldn’t be able to live without you for a single minute more. I can’t remember how I lived before you, Y/N. I don’t want to remember it. I’d rather die than cause you pain and make you leave me. I know how lucky I am for getting this second chance.”

I accepted his words, not being able to deal with the separation of our lips another second. We were eager now, trying to make up for all the time we had to keep our desires in check. His hands held my jaw as he possessed my mouth and I clung to his shirt tightly as I tried to deal with the desire burning my lower belly. 

“I have never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” I admitted, licking my lips as he chuckled, caressing my cheek as he laid warm open-mouthed kisses against the skin of my neck.

“I have never wanted to fuck anyone this badly,” he confessed, biting in a particular spot in my neck that made my legs feel like jelly. “But tonight I think I will make love to you first.”

His eyes searched mine then, looking for any sign of indecisiveness, but there was none. I knew I wanted him since he first smiled at me, three years before. I kissed his thumb that played with my cheeks, nodding my acceptance to his proposal.

“I love you too,” I finally professed and he rewarded me with the sweetest of smiles.

Henry’s P.O.V.

I captured her lips again, not quite believing this turn of events. I finally had her. She was finally mine. 

We kissed feverishly, our hands never stopping too long in one single place. It was like she felt it too, this need to feel every piece of skin, of guaranteeing the other person was really there, was actually real. Before long, I felt her trembling hands make their way inside my shirt and I sighed, barely believing this was real. She pulled on the fabric and I all but ripped the buttons off of my work shirt before throwing it somewhere behind me and returning my focus on the exploration of the gorgeous woman that was now looking at me with those wide eyes I loved so much.

“Don’t give me that look,” I warned her, only receiving the cheekiest of smiles as a response and a growl rose from under my chest. I pulled her to meet my lips again, this time taking us away from the wall and into the old leather couch just behind us. I laid her carefully on the warm material, pushing away a few rebellious strands of hair that insisted on shielding her eyes from mine.

For a few seconds, we simply stared at one another, our eyes silently communicating what our mouths didn’t seem to be able to speak in the moment. She looked so beautiful, even more than I already thought she did, with her lips red from my assault and a dark bruise already forming in her silky skin from my bite. 

I had to take a few deep breaths to control myself, already feeling my pants tighten as the reality of what was to happen hit me. Y/N licked her lips, her eyes showing every bit the same desire I felt run through my veins. “Like what you see?” she teased me, earning a breathy laugh that let on how nervous I actually felt. 

“You have no idea,” I admitted, leaning down to kiss her forehead sweetly before laying kisses across her face, over her lids, on each side of her cheeks, on the tip of her nose before deciding to nibble on her jaw. She shivered, her hands coming up to my curls once again, holding me to her. 

I inhaled the sweet perfume that often overtook my senses whenever she was near me. It was like an aphrodisiac to me, it never failed to get me hard. Many times I had to abruptly leave her talking by herself to tend to my member in my bathroom, imagining my hands were hers.

“You make me crazy,” I confessed, my voice hoarse as I continued my path across her skin, now licking her neck, trying not to lose my mind over the tremulous moans she let escape every time I discovered a particular spot that seemed to get to her. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” Teasingly, I bit right over one of her collarbones, immediately regretting my taunt as her hands found the bulge in my pants and rubbed it. 

“I could say the same thing,” she retaliated, tongue stuck between her teeth as she watched with focused interest as I threw my head back and groaned. 

“Damnit, woman, I’m trying to make this last,” I tried to lecture her, failing spectacularly as she managed to pop my button and reach inside my boxers to find me, bare and hot, pulsing for her. 

“Not interested,” she raised her back off the couch, forcing me to sit back on my heels, as she took control of the situation. “I’ve waited too long for this. If you want to make love to me, as you say, do it quickly, I need you now.” 

It was impossible not to react to her. This sweet, bubbly woman, suddenly dominant and sure of herself and what she wanted. Fuck, if that didn’t make her even sexier to my eyes. 

Still, I managed to control myself, slowly caressing her thighs with my trembling fingers until I reached the edge of her nightgown, raising it up as I continued my path across her body. Her heavy breasts came into view, her nipples hard and begging for attention. I was quick to connect my lips to one, caressing the other with one of my hands.

She moaned then, her hands coming up to pull on my hair once more as she ground down against me and I groaned at the sensation of her wet panties against my member. I had half a mind to pull my jeans all the way down, take her to bed, do this sweetly and romantically like I had planned I would do if I had the opportunity to lay with her at least once, but she was making this too difficult for me. Her tiny whimpers escaped her lips freely as I changed nipples, slightly biting on one, making her throw her head back and whine.

“Stop teasing me so much,” she begged, rubbing herself against me once more, making the decision for me, as I couldn’t stand to feel her heat and not be inside of her any longer.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I heard him growl before I realized I had finally broken him. In a second, he had thrown himself at me, forcing me to lie down on the couch as I shivered against the cold air as his hands made quick work of my nightgown. When the sounds of his belt coming off at last rang in my ears, I couldn’t help the moan escaping my lips at the realization that this was finally happening.

“I wanted to do this nice and slow, take my time with you, worship your body in the way it deserves to be cherished, but did you allow that?” His voice was so raspy it kept reigniting the goosebumps across my skin, and as his fingers finally pressed my soaking wet panties against that spot that had been throbbing for attention, I felt like I could come right then and there. “Of course not,” he answered himself, his focus directed to where his fingers were now exploring. “Everything has to be done in your time, isn't it, miss Y/L/N?” 

Growing tired of the cotton barrier between us, he finally pulled it aside to softly collect the evidence of what he was doing to me, but didn’t make any movement towards actually relieving me of my needs. “Answer me, darling,” he whispered in my ear as softly as possible, but I knew that tone and it hid danger.

“Y-yes, sir,” I babbled without thinking and by that point, I would do anything to have him inside of me.

“Good girl.” That was all the warning I received before his member pushed its way inside of me, but as it provoked a whole new wave to pour out of me, it wasn’t as difficult as it would have been otherwise. Still, it took me some time to relax and allow his full length to penetrate me, as it was considerably large and thick.

I gasped as the head of his cock bumped my cervix. “There you go, sweetheart.” He smiled down at me, giving a quick peck to my temple. “I knew you’d be able to take it.”

I moaned at his words, incredibly excited about the fact that he apparently knew I had a praise kink. Maybe I wasn’t as cautious as I thought I was being when he complimented my work? There was no way I would dwell on this any longer, however, as he finally started to slowly thrust in and out of me, his little grunts and pants making me all the more horny.

“You’re so tight, baby girl,” he groaned, throwing his head back for a second, his eyes closed, giving me the perfect opportunity to admire his jaw and neck. “I don’t know how I managed to fit inside of you, but let me tell you…” his head had returned to my ear, before finding a nook on my neck and hiding there. “Now that I’m here, I’m never gonna leave,” he whispered against my skin, picking up his thrusts just as I started to need a little more from him.

“Good,” I managed to moan out, to which he chuckled. He continued to fuck me against my couch, permanently ruining my pussy and the fabric underneath us, as our juices slowly dripped onto it. It didn’t take long for him to bring me close to the edge, and I was trembling in his arms after a few seconds of feeling the head of his cock bumping against my sweet spot.

“Feeling needy, baby girl? Do you want to cum?” I struggled to nod, but it seemed to suffice him. “Then come for me, darling. I’m right behind you. Cum for me.” His thumb found my bundle of nerves and just like that, I was falling down the pits of desire. Throwing my head back, I pulled his chest to me, my nails certainly leaving marks across his back for him to remember me later on.

I absentmindedly noticed the sounds I was making, but as my walls throbbed around his cock, I was too far gone to care. Henry kissed the side of my face as I came until I was capable of focusing my gaze on him once more. As I did, I found him looking at him with a particular glint in his eyes, a look so soft that made my heart feel twice the normal size.

“Is it possible to love too much?” He asked, and I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came. Instead, he simply adjusted to be able to speed up into me, now fucking me into my couch in a way that made it sure I would never be able to sit in it without thinking about him again. I heard his groans of pleasure as he reached his own high, and I felt him spill into me as he did so.

We stayed connected as he calmed down. As we both calmed down, because my heart was still beating as fast as if I had been running a marathon. After a while, he kissed my shoulder and sat up, his cock leaving me. “You’re perfect,” he whispered into the night.

I followed his movements, also sitting up on the couch, enjoying how he immediately pulled me into his lap, like he couldn’t bear the thought of our skins not touching. The rain had almost stopped, I realized. No more lightning or thunder had echoed throughout the house for a long while.

“Do you really love me?” I found myself whispering into the quiet of the night. For a few seconds, he said nothing, but then he was pushing me away from his chest just enough so that he could stare back at me. 

“You ask me like you have given me any other option.” My giggles echoed throughout the house.

“I love you too.” And for once, everything felt right.

[seventeensarmy]

(4) Stuck With You (Hybrid AU)

Pairing: OT7xReader, Jungkook x Reader, soon Jimin x Reader x Jungkook; rest will come in the course of the story

Warnings: mentions of smut, domestic living and fluff, also don’t know how you wanna call Jimins behaviour, also not eating and like bad self image (bc reader and Jimin don’t eat and wanna lose weight)

Words: 3.560

Summary: You decide to show Jimin your dance studio, while Jungkook leaves the two of you to go to a job inerview for the famous underground photographer ‘Vante’.

A/N: I’m sorry for not uploading in a while, but school was like, “let’s give her three exams per week, one week pause and then start again for as long as we stay open”. I’ll try to write more, but I can’t promise anything :/

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Chapter four

"You didn't tell me that y/n makes such a mean Carbonara, Jungkook-ah.”

Masterlist  

Taglist: @imezz​ @anxietylovesme​ @holaaaf​ @ot7purple​ @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @greezenini​ @givebuckysomelove​ @leejongsukly433        @sweeneyblue1​ @kookiebbyxx​

One year ago (Reader 20/ JK 20/ JM 22) You groaned as the light hit your face and turned around. "Baby. Wake up" you heard Jungkook mumbling next you, but then proceeded to pull you closer. You didn't know anyone who took longer to get up in the morning than your boyfriend. You were now facing Jungkooks bare chest, your fingers were tracing his muscles and you looked up to him only to see him already looking at you. "Seeing something you like?" he asked, looking amused as your cheeks started to heat up, "Yes" you whisper with a small grin. A hand came around your waist and pulled you even closer and before you could actually react Jungkook was already leaning over you, one hand next to your head to hold him up. You looked up to him with big eyes. "You wanna be my good girl? Letting me have you before making breakfast? So I can have my breakfast first?" He started to nibble on your throat, leaving big bruises that you knew were going to be so hard to cover up. "Yes, please" you whimper throwing your head back to give Jungkook more space, your hand gripping his hair. You moaned when you felt his hands cupping your breast, pinching you nipple. "Good girl" Jungkook praised. You didn't know, that Jungkooks main goal was to let Jimin know, that you were his. He had noticed how Jimin had that big dominant aura, it had intimidated him, but Jungkook couldn't let the new guy see, that his dominance had effects on him, when he wasn't even trying to. If it had already bothered him so much, how would you react? You, who is so easily manipulated? After you and Jungkook started your day, you quickly feel into your usual routine. Jungkook went for a quick morning jog while you started preparing the breakfast he insisted you'd have together. You stood at the stove preparing three dishes, because you vaguely remember Jungkook bringing someone home? The realisation that you are now alone with a stranger at home, hit you as you heard light footsteps approaching. "You are a dancer, aren't you?" came a soft voice from the doorway. You looked over and saw a blond man leaning against the frame, his tail softly swishing from side to side. You didn't know enough about cats to point out his mood, so you chose to just keep it cool. "How did you know?" you asked a bit surprised. The cat chuckled and pointed at your feet, "You're making breakfast in fourth position." You looked down at your feet and saw that you were indeed standing in a typical ballet position; you looked up to the man a bit embarrassed. The cat stepped a bit closer and him holding his eye contact with you was making you nervous. You looked down again, breaking the contact and missing the smirk that creeped on his face. "Do you dance as well? I've been living with Jungkook for years and he never mentioned it?" The cat scoffed, "I've been dancing since I was little. My previous owner owned his own studio here in town." You smiled at his words, Happy, that you were finally talking to a dancer again, its been too long. "Then if you want, you can come train with me later, after breakfast. Jungkook wants to together, so we gotta wait. Are you eating? Oh I don't know if I introduced myself yesterday, I'm Y/N" The hybrid slowly nodded at the information you were giving him. "I'm Jimin", he said in a smooth voice, "Are you eating before practice? I won't be eating lunch though." You grinned at the revelation that Jimin also wasn't eating lunch. "Yeah, Jungkook wants me to eat before I start the day, but I'm not eating lunch either. I'm mostly practicing at that time" You were stirring the porridge you were making and Jimin hummed in acknowledgement. "You're on a dancer diet too?" he asked and it was as if you understood each other without saying something. A little voice in both of your heads told you, that the 'diet' the two of you were on, wasn't good or healthy, but you felt connected through the knowledge of doing the same thing. You nodded, "And he doesn't like it?” Jimin asked again and you nodded again, remembering the arguments you would have about your eating habits. Jimin smiled, his eyes scrunched together, "That's okay, he just doesn't understand, but don't worry, I do." You started to fill the food in bowls, giving yourself and Jimin smaller portions than Jungkook and Jimin started to set the table. The timing was perfect; Jungkook came through the door just as you put the last bowl down. He spotted you and Jimin and smiled at the both of you. "Morning Jimin-ah", he grinned and Jimin scowled, you all had sat down and started eating. "I'm older than you, you brat" Jungkook grinned cheekily, "Morning Hyung" and you chocked in your first spoon of porridge. "You're older than Jungkook?" Jungkook grinned and sat himself down teasing you, "Were you hoping you'd be a Noona, Baby?" Jimin raised his eyebrows, "You are younger than your hybrid?" It wasn't common for people to adopt hybrids that were older than one, because humans liked that age gave them a superior feeling. You pouted, "Age has nothing to do with behaviour. I'm still the owner." Jungkook snorted, "Yeah, only on paper though" Jimin choked on a laugh, while you just grabbed your empty bowl, head red. Before you left you smacked the back of Jungkooks head making him turn around with a face that said 'try that again and see where it brings you'. You stood in the kitchen scrubbing the bowls clean when Jungkook entered, holding his and Jimins bowl in his hand. "You didn't have to say that", you whisper shouted and him, hitting him with a wet rag. "Try that again. I dare you. Also, he already knew that you are mine. You smell like me, especially after this morning" you could hear the smugness in his voice and felt the blood rushing to your cheeks. "You are unbelievable" you groaned, making him snicker. "You know what? You can do the dishes then. I'm gonna go change" "Aw don’t be like that, little dancer", was the last thing you heard before closing the door to your shared bedroom. You quickly changed into your sports Wear and also grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt from Jungkook to give to Jimin, who was sitting at the kitchen counter watching Jungkook do the dishes. "Here, I thought maybe you'd like to dance in something a bit more comfortable" you said, giving the cat the clothes. Jimin quickly thanked you and disappeared in the guest room he was staying in. "So you gonna practice together then?” Jungkook asked, putting away the rest of the dishes into the cabinets. "Yes, it’s been so long since I practiced with someone who also danced for a long time" and you really were excited. Since your parents death you hadn't been taking any more dance lessons from your private teacher. You always wanted to be taught again, but there was so much going on in your life, you didn't feel like dance lessons should be taking over so much time. Instead you practiced what you already knew, sometimes you learned from YouTube videos, but it was hard trying to learn new stuff, when you boyfriend isn't a fan of you overworking yourself. You tried to explain to him, that new moves were hard to learn and that you were used to staying up late to perfect them, but he wasn't having it. Jungkook felt bad about limiting your practice time, but he knew it wasn't healthy to stay in the dance studio for the whole day, practicing the same move on repeat. He tried to tell you, that maybe you should take it slower, leaving new things would take time, but overworking yourself wouldn't to you any good, especially since you still had school work to do. "That’s great, I'm sure you'll be making good progress then" Jungkook said with a bright smile, relieved that someone who knew what they were doing was with you. Jimin would probably say something if he saw, that you were going too hard. Jimin appeared gently, but Jungkook was sure he would be strict and make sure you would take care of yourself. "I actually have something I'd need to do today, meaning I wouldn't be at home till late", Jungkook started making you look up to him confused. "Huh? Where are you going?" "Do you remember that 'Vante' flyer we saw a while back? Remember that I called there and they said they would get back to me? Well they did, just while you were changing, they would like to meet today" A huge smile broke out on your face, and you jumped into Jungkooks arms, who caught you with ease "That’s amazing Kookie. I'm sure they will hire you." A while back, while you went on a walk with Jungkook, you came by a flyer, offering a job as an assistant to 'Vante'. The offer was only for hybrids and when Jungkook read who he could be potentially working for he couldn't stop himself from calling. Vante was apparently a huge underground photographer, who is famous for his pictures capturing social unjust against hybrids or other minorities. You didn't know there was someone who expressed their feelings for the hybrid situation through art and Jungkook explained to you, that he also just heard of him, after hearing other hybrids talk about him. Vante was apparently a big deal in the hybrid community, but no one has ever seen him. This is why it was an even bigger shock that he was looking so openly for an assistant. Most humans don't know about Vante or what goes on in the hybrid community in general and Jungkook explained to you, that you didn't have to feel bad for not knowing him. Since you and Jungkook only really spent time with each other and only leave the house when you have to, you didn't really have any other friends. This was also the reason why Jungkook was so out the loop with everything concerning the hybrid community, he's been with you since you were children and never really met with other hybrids. You often felt bad and told him he should go to the park and try to meet people and that you'd be fine, but he never wanted to. He claimed that you were all the company he needed and while you didn't necessarily believed that, you couldn't bring him to change his mind. But he too was the only company you needed. Still, now that you found out he had the chance to go meet people you were happy for him, especially because you knew, that Jungkook would love to have something to do and not sit around the house the whole day. "You guys gonna be fine without me here?" Jungkook asked, looking at you and then at Jimin who had just stepped out of his room. Both of you rolled your eyes and you were glad wasn't looking at you. "Don't worry Jungkook-ah, we'll survive" said Jimin with a cheeky smile. It wasn't that Jungkook wasn't concerned about leaving you with a stranger in your own home, he was. But something about Jimin made him feel at ease. Yes, Jungkook kinda felt threatened in his position as 'alpha' of the pack, especially because he, a rabbit, let a cat come into his territory. But Jimin didn't appear like he wanted to take you away or destroy the dynamic, it was more like, he wanted to belong. And Jungkook understood that, he too wanted to belong, and it wasn't like you didn't have the space for one more person. It was just the power dynamic that was still undecided between the both of them, but then again, Jimin hadn't even been staying with you for a whole day. Power dynamics still had to wait; maybe Jimin didn't even plan on staying, though Jungkook didn't believe that. Also you and Jimin seemed to get along well, so he trusted his gut on this one. "I should be back around 10pm from what I understood" Jungkook called out to you and Jimin. You quickly rushed to him hugging him tight. You played with the silver chain around his neck that had all the information about him. If hybrids had to go out with a collar, it could at least look good. "Be safe, and text me when you arrive and leave and stuff. I'll prepare dinner for you and if you don't like it you can just come back home yeah? Don't feel like you have to get a job. We don't need the -" Your rambling got interrupted by a set of lips on yours. Jungkook looked at you with soft eyes, a bit amused how much you worried about him, but he knew you meant well. "I'll be just fine, Baby, don't worry okay?” he asked as gently cupped your cheek. "I'll text you, I even have my tracking on, so don't worry. But I have to leave now or I'll be late. Don't forget to eat. Jimin, watch her. See you guys, love you", Jungkook listed to calm you, looking at Jimin while telling him to watch you and then at you, telling you he loved you. You quickly tell him the same before the door falls shut. "He said it like I'm some kid to watch", you playfully pouted, looking at the cat that had watched that whole interaction with an amused smile. "We'll see at the end of the day how much of a pain you are", Jimin said with a laugh. The both of you were in your studio warming up and you enjoyed the fact that Jimin seemed to know what he was doing. Training with Jungkook was always playful, because you explained to him what each stretch was doing and he would whine about his thighs burning, but Jimin wasn't like that. He could match pace and take the stretch as deep as you could. A bit clueless as to how to start you decided both if you would just dance for the other, so you'd know what you could work on together. You explained that you were trained in classical ballet, always had strict teachers and never really learned it another way. Jimin listened and remarked that he'd love to learn a bit more about classical ballet, you then told him, that you started to teach yourself a more contemporary style, but haven't been taught it, which is why you'd probably needed some help there. The hybrids eyes smiled as bright as his mouth when he told you, that he had learned contemporary since he was a child, so he wouldn't have a problem teaching you. You beamed at him, happy that you found a way to dance that made both of you happy. "I'm warning you, I've never taught anyone before", you said while getting ready to start teaching Jimin. The cat looked at you, "What, the bunny doesn't like dancing?" You shake your head, "Jungkook likes dancing, but not the kind I'm able to teach him. He said if he'd dance it had to be modern and I don’t know, he called it street style" Jimin snorted, "Well, I didn't take him as a classical dancer anyway. Should we start?" Teaching Jimin was easier than expected, he easily caught onto what you were trying to say, when you didn't know how to say it. Both of you lost track of time, lost in your own world that was dance. You quickly got reminded of time when your phone started ringing, Jungkook. Taking a few deep breathes you answered, you looked at yourself in the mirror, your top clinging onto you, drenched in sweat, and you haven't trained this hard in quite some time. Your gaze wandered to Jimin who looked as sweaty as you, his hair sticking to his forehead, so he ran a hand through it, exposing his forehead. "Hey Kookie. How is it going?" you asked as you answered, you looked at the time, it was 4pm, Jungkook wouldn't be home in while and you and Jimin have already been dancing for five hours. "I'm on break right now. They are showing me what kind of pictures I would have to take and stuff. It’s really interesting, they also told me I could make videos of I'm more comfortable with that, it just has to have a message", you could feel Jungkooks excitement through the phone and a huge smile took over your features. Your bunny was still so cute when he got excited, even Jimin, who heard the whole conversation, no doubt, was smiling to himself at Jungkooks rambling. "I'm happy you're having fun. What are you doing after your break?", you asked and absently started stretching, bending over while still holding your phone. "Oh they're gonna teach me Photoshop and video editing and how to upload pictures, so they aren't traceable by the police." That line worried you a bit; you looked up and locked eyes with Jimin behind you, who was already looking at you, through the mirror. He was also frowning at Jungkooks words. You knew that that Vante guy was publishing critical pictures to raise awareness, but was it so bad, that the police would get involved? "Don't worry; it's just so they won't know who published it. The police could think that you are part of a radical group and stuff. It's easier to stay anonymous", Jungkook explained, probably feeling your worry and confusion. "Anyways, did you guys eat already? You probably ate an hour ago or so. I can hear your heavy breathing are you still training?" The blood in your veined ran cold. You hadn't eaten, you weren't even planning to before Jungkook called, and you haven't made a break. Jimin seemed to see your panic and quickly jumped in. "Hey let me talk to that punk that didn't use the proper honorifics today." He then grabbed your phone and put it on speaker. You could hear Jungkooks giggles coming through. "Oh I'm sorry Hyung" came Jungkooks reply and Jimin took over before Jungkook could say more. "You didn't tell me that y/n makes such a mean Carbonara, Jungkook-ah. We almost didn't left anything for you", the lies came out so easily, that you would've believed Jimin if you hadn't known better. "Oh really?” Jungkook asked and you could tell he was pleased, thinking you listened and actually ate. There was a sharp pain in your heart and you felt incredibly guilty for lying, because even though you weren't the one speaking, you also weren't interrupting Jimin. "Yes, but don't worry, we left something for you", Jimin send you a cheeky wink, easing your worry a bit. "Alright I'm glad.." there were some background noises, before Jungkooks voice came back. "I just got called to come back, so I'll gotta leave. Maybe I'll meet Vante. Though I probably won't. Maybe if I really start working for him, you know he never shows his face. Anyways. Bye love you. Have fun you guys. Bye Hyung." And with that the line went dead. Jimin mustered you. "Shouldn't I have lied?” he asked, afraid he overstepped. Jimin was here for one day, but he was already so at ease with you, he maybe interpreted too much into your shared love for dance. "No it's not that..  I just hate lying to him." Jimin watched you, "Okay. But.. Did you want to eat?” he asked and you shook your head, eating while practicing didn't help,  especially if you wanted to lose weight while you were at it. "See that's okay. Do you want to eat now?” his voice was soft and lulled you in bubble were you felt comfortable. He was asking if you wanted to eat, not telling you that you should. You shook your head again, even though the thought of Jungkook let you feel guilty, you still didn't want to eat. Jimin smiled, "That's okay and completely normal. I also don't want to eat. How about we eat something later this evening?" "Yeah, that sounds good", you said quietly, Jimins voice was so soft and gently, you didn't want to burst that comfort bubble. Also he told you that it was okay, and he also didn't eat, so how bad was it really? "Then let's eat later. Jungkook doesn't need to know. Let's practice till 8pm, then we can shower and I'll help you make some mean Cabonara. How does that sound?” Jimin smiled at you and you smiled back. "Sounds good." "Okay, and then let me start teaching you, but watch out. I'm a strict teacher." Jimin warned, but that only gave you more motivation. "That's good, I won't learn if you aren't", you answered, not knowing how someone couldn't be strict while teaching. And Jimin was true to his word, pointing out every mistake and making you repeat the move till you perfected it. But you wouldn't want it any other way.

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