#perhaps i am this panda ...

[hcnnibal]

Do the Angels like nerf?

Do they play paint ball or laser tag?

Do they take it Waaaay to seriously?

I can imagine them doing laser tag, obliterating their competition, then going to play arcade games after.

If they played arcade games what's their go to game? Racing? Shooting? Dancing maybe 👀👀?

angels on a date/not date at the boardwalk and ruining some kid’s birthday party by annihilating them in laser tag 😭

[ferinehuntress]

[ aylin visage ] — i am resplendent . [ aylin attire ] — one who knows what must be done . [ aylin interactions ] — you will address me with due deference . [ aylin answers ] — the nightsong will sing once again . [ aylin aesthetics ] — your past is not yet lost ; your future is not yet fixed . [ aylin headcanons ] — she has brought her sword to your side . [ aylin character study ] — the one that belongs to the moon . [ aylin attractions ] — i dreamt every night that you would come back to me . [ aylin desires ] — i have a darling to adore . [ aylin skillsets ] — there is a battle yet to be fought . [ aylin scenery ] — perhaps you feel the stirring of the truth already . [ aylin playlist ] — you have my sword . [ aylin games ] — we pick our way toward our fates unleashed . [ aylin body study ] — allow the moon maiden to guide you at last .

[yeetmylifeu]

i wont actually ever admit that i am a trash can unless someone admits they are a trash panda racoon

only then i would reveal my little banana peels, tuna cans and ripped loaves of bread to that one racoon

wHEREVER YOU ARE MY RACOON

I AM WAITING FOR U

RIGHT HERE

[lueurjun]

“ let’s just get married ” | heeseung and jay.

the boys reaction to you suddenly professing that you would in fact, like to get married.

. . . . . . . ꒰ HEESEUNG ꒱ ,,

give him a sec

he’s rebooting

his mind went through an unplanned update

because clearly there’s something wrong with it since he swears he just heard you tell him you wanna get married

“hUh?”

you don’t seem to catch onto his confusion in the slightest

because you’re just sat cheesin

you after breaking your boyf 😃

“like… in a couple of years?”

you shake your head, still grinning as though you just won the lottery

heeseung gulps so loud you can hear it from half way across the world

it’s true. i heard it from here.

to be honest—bros petrified

not that he doesn’t want to marry you

he has visions of it

breaking news! lee heeseung is really that’s so raven confirmed!

but now it’s perhaps a little too early for him

still the look on your face had his heart shitting itself

because you look so excited

and telling you to wait would probably break your heart

which lee heeseung would never do

cos then he’d have to go through me. and i have watched kung fu panda. i know my shit.

so he wraps his arms around your waist and draws you in until your foreheads are touching.

cant see his panicked expression if he connects foreheads

and with a thudding heart, he manages to choke out a reply

“then let’s get married.”

imagine i wrote ‘then marry someone else’. oof the drama would be out of this world

now it’s your turn to be panicked

because the reality of it all comes crashing down on you like a thundering avalanche

and suddenly you’re pushing him away

“i don’t want to.”

hA NOT YOU REJECTING HIM AFTER SENDING HIM THROUGH EMOTIONAL TURMOIL

heeseung just blinks at you

because weren’t you the one who proposed this idea?

what do you mean ‘you don’t want to?’

now he’s hurt

because why don’t you want to marry him?

“is it something i said?”

he’s frowning now, resembling a puppy that just got kicked

“no! no! it was just in the moment-you know? you just looked perfect and i felt perfect with you and i got carried away. that doesn’t mean i don’t want to marry you in the future! i think we should just wait.”

heeseung breathes a sigh of relief and pulls you back into his arms

“i’m so glad you think so because i am not ready for marriage yet—but with that being said, i will stick the biggest diamond on your finger when i am.”

compensation for making you wait—heeseung is in fact a sugar daddy 💸

he holds you tighter, and your gaze shifts to his ring finger, a fleeting moment of daydreaming how handsome he'd look with a wedding ring on

your mind is suddenly alive with visions of what married life with heeseung would be like, a flurry of images quickly cascading through your imagination

and suddenly, a familiar feeling tugs in your heart

cheekily, you grin up at him

“i’ve changed my mind. i wanna get married again.”

lord help him

. . . . . . . ꒰ JAY ꒱ ,,

did somebody say something?

no really…did they? he had earphones in and heard absolutely none of what you said

me every minute of everyday

he’s bobbing his head to his music without a care in the world

thriving in — unmarried — life, unburdened by any adult responsibilities or worries

he’s truly blissful

until you yank those earphones out of his ears and peer down at him with a scornful gaze

you could’ve sworn he had paused his music when you entered the room

“hey baby.”

i have been watching a lot of drew starkey edits and his ‘hey baby’ is imprinted in my mind so it must be applied to jay. i do not make the rules.

his face is lit up with an endearing smile, his eyes full of affection as he looks lovingly at you

which makes you smile and gaze back at him with the same expression

“i said, would you marry me?”

naturally, jay assumes that you’re just thinking about the future

which is totally natural in a relationship

so he doesn’t think anything of it when he shrugs his shoulders

“i’d marry you tomorrow.”

same. i’d marry you better than him tbh

now jay loves you

his love for you is as constant and timeless as the sun's relationship with the sky

but he wasn’t being literal. marriage is a huge step and as much as he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you

he felt he was still too young

you didn’t seem to realize that it was just an expression because you started beaming

and jay, not realizing you had taken this literally and assumed you just liked the idea of marrying him in the future, beamed back at you

“great! we should look into venues—no! why don’t we fly to vegas? how does one elope? jay! we should look into eloping.”

at first, he's simply enthralled by the sound of your voice

but then the words register and suddenly he’s hyperventilating

he’s so real for that

“wha- el-eloping? like-in the future…possibly in like five years? maybe seven—”

“no? now! you said you wanted to get married tomorrow and i’ve been thinking that maybe we should? i mean, i don’t want anyone else and imagine married life jay! it would be perfect!"

married life with you would be perfect

jay would love nothing more than to wake up beside you every morning, a wedding band adorning your finger and sharing the same last name

he’d love to introduce you as his spouse, the idea of it alone gives him butterflies

but marriage is a huge commitment

“i mean it would but right now?”

hearing the panic in exchange for excitement, the bubble surrounding you pops

and suddenly, you’re no longer the embodiment of happiness

but disappointment

forget ksi and tommy fury, im gonna be in the ring with jay if he doesn’t marry the life out of you

his heart shatters at the look on your face and that alone has him reconsidering

he plans to marry you in the future, might as well keep that gorgeous smile on your face and push the date forward

“you don’t wanna marry me?”

he reaches out to you, taking your hands in his and guiding you to sit next to him. the closeness is almost overwhelming, and you can feel the warmth of his body as he pulls you onto his lap

bro i’m blushin rn!! look away. i don’t want you to see me like this

jay wastes no time showering your face with passionate kisses, eliciting an gradually forming smile from you

“no. no-i do wanna marry you, more than anything! but it’s just a little early, we can wait a few more years. time with you flies anyway so it won’t even be that long of a wait technically, we’re just… a bit too young yet.”

he’s right, and you hate admitting it

nah don’t fold bae. get that ring 💍

slumping your shoulders, you nod your head with a sigh

“i guess you’re right. i got a little too carried away. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you…”

jay shakes his head, planting a kiss on both of your cheeks, then your nose and then finally, your lips, though he lets that one linger

that alone manages to lift your mood drastically

“how about, we settle for a promise ring?”

your heart swells with emotion at the sweet sentiment and you find yourself unable to resist leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his once more

after a moment — or several — he finally pulls away and laughs

“i take it you like that idea?”

“i do”

[itoshi-s]

anon requested: rin + "why do you keep marking me up? it's hard to mask and people are staring..." // no lukewarm love v-day event !

wk: 1.5k. cw: mildly suggestive, fem coded reader, mention of bruises/hickeys, fluff. rin wears a panda headband i want to eat him whole

standing in front of your full-width bathroom mirror at 6:43 am, eyes still bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in odd directions, you think you just might actually hate your boyfriend.

you know he doesn't exactly mean to do it - but all sense of rationality is long forgotten when the bright violet, reddish bruises are the first thing you notice in your reflection.

with a sigh, you put your fluffy headband on, keeping every hair out of your face, then start applying makeup. you'll have to be quick with it this time, too - you have hit snooze once or twice, and you certainly don't want to be late, yet still have something else than your face to spend time on camouflaging.

the soft playlist you've put on helps calm some of the annoyance that bubbles in your chest as you hum along under your breath, curling your lashes and applying a final coat of mascara. you put on your lip gloss, smacking your lips as you stare at your reflection, and as the initial bleariness of waking up dies down, you actually feel more amused than irritated upon the sight of hickeys littered down your neck.

rin's a possessive lover. he wants - needs - to feel every inch of your skin under his large, roaming hands. he grabs and kneads the flesh, holds it in a tight grip when he manhandles you however he seems fit. when in the moment, rin doesn't pay any mind whether it leaves marks - in fact, there are times when he wants it more than anything, like when you get home from a party looking just a tad too pretty and the green eyed monster creeps up on him. just want to mark up what's mine, the teal-eyed would mumble, laying on his tummy as he glares at you childishly.

you adore his passionate nature - feel on top of the world and like the most beautiful thing to exist when he gives you that look, overcome with love and desire.

but, for the love of god, you appreciate your sleep and sanity just as much, you think as you dab on the third layer of thick concealer, stacked on top of color corrector that really fucking struggles to balance out the purple hues.

you check the time, realizing you've got to leave the house in half an hour now, and that rin's alarm should go off in a minute or two.

as if on cue, there's a pair of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, then they're pushed open to reveal your boyfriend in all his sleepy glory.

shirtless and rubbing at his eyes, rin yawns as he makes his way over to your side of the bathroom counter. he circles an arm around your waist, broad chest feeling warm against your fluffy robe, and he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder.

"hi," rin mumbles, voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep as his lips move against the bare skin on your neck. he kisses a birthmark there and gives your waist a squeeze, turquoise gaze meeting your reflection in the mirror with an appreciative hum. "y'look nice, baby." a pause, "no eyeliner today?"

you just give a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows twitching to furrow and lips almost curling into a smirk. he's so, so clueless - it's endearing, in a way, you think as you watch him slip away and stand by the second sink.

"mm. don't have time for it today." you say softly, stuffing your powder brush back into your makeup bag and zipping it close.

perhaps your voice sounds a bit too quiet, or the exhaustion is still prominent on your features despite the glowy products you so carefully put on, cause rin's eyes drift back to life and gleam with worry.

he turns the faucet on and fiddles with the temperature, giving your face an once-over in the mirror before turning to the sink again.

"oh." he nods, fingers reaching for the fluffy, panda-eared headband you took off barely a few seconds ago. pulling it on with ease, rin wants to say something more, but dismisses it and goes to wash his face instead.

the water, as nice as it feels on his face, doesn't wash off any of this funny, uneasy feeling. is something wrong? are you mad at him? do you feel bad and shouldn't go to work today? (he will make you call it off if that's the case. there's no way you're going in sick.)

there's many possibilities, and he won't be certain until he asks. dabbing his face off with a towel, rin clears his throat to speak before turning to you - but you beat him to it.

"rin," you begin, voice sounding so resigned it makes his brows knit together. "why do you keep marking me up?"

blinking not once, not twice, but perhaps a few times too many, he does look so clueless, so silly, you have to bite back a laugh. you're supposed to be annoyed with him - but how can you really, when he's just doing all that out of bottomless, unconditional love?

continuing, "it's hard to mask and people are staring..." you trail off, giving yourself a glance in the mirror, head tilting to show more of the poorly concealed marks, as if to prove your point.

you look back at rin, who now doesn't look as puzzled anymore. instead, there's a slight frown settled in his pretty features, long lashes still damp and stuck together, lips pulled into a tight line that almost resembles a pout.

the black, fluffy ears sticking out from messy green hair really sell the look, though.

"what do you mean?" rin argues, and you go to sigh, crossing your arms. "you cover these up?"

your eyes widen, snapping over to the striker's face again. for a second, you think you've misheard him - but in fact, he does look as serious as it gets. your heart jolts with shock, flabbergasted at how truly, utterly shameless he is.

"rin!" you gasp, finger pointing to the side of your neck in exasperation. "of course i do! i can't go around work like that," you insist, tugging the hem of your robe to the side.

the man scowls, eyes trained on the faint pinks and purples. "well i don't see anythin' wrong with it," he deadpans and your shoulders slump in defeat. rin turns to face the mirror again, reaching for his toothbrush.

"everyone else does," you whine, pulling at the tie around your waist and sliding the robe off. you go to hang it up, then reach for the clothes you've neatly folded and laid on the counter last night. "i... like the way they look. and feel." you start bashfully, eyes trained on the ground when you step into your dress pants and swiftly pull them up your legs.

rin smirks at that, just slightly before you can see it and smack it right off his face.

you're quiet for a second, and rin takes the time to trail his eyes down your body as he sticks the toothbrush in his mouth. well, to be fair, there are quite a few bruises littered all over, some darker than others. there's a bite mark-shaped one, too, right on the swell of your breast, which you go to cover with the skin tight long sleeve you put on next.

(he fears your reaction when you go to look into the mirror and see it peeking out the neckline.)

it might irk you, and make people uncomfortable or amused, even - but he loves the way they look on your skin, a sharp contract to the smooth, glowy canvas, momentarily stained with his love that runs oh, so feverishly through every single cell in his body.

isn't it only natural he wants to find an output for it and eventually mark what's his?

"but-" you continue, fixing the gold charm between your breasts, the small, zirconia-studded R glimmering under the bathroom lights. "i'd appreciate it if you... kept it down." you mumble, looking up at rin again and your gaze meets his in the mirror.

rin rolls his eyes dramatically, lips quirking up into a ghost of a smile as he brushes his teeth. perhaps, he can try and opt for more... hidden places. it's not ideal - the need to showcase his claim on you still as strong as ever - but not everyone can pay so little mind to what others think of him like he does. certainly, you can't. not with your line of work, either.

he knows, and that's why it almost feels funny when his heart thumps in his chest with refusal. maybe he is a little immature, in a way - but maybe, it's not such a bad thing at all. not when it's your love that makes him feel like a kid, carefree and playful again.

"fine." rin grumbles, words muffled around the brush as he works it on the back of his teeth, sending you an amused look that has your tummy doing flips. "will hav'ta find other ways to mark my territory, though."

[spectr3inl0ve]

please more age gap Bruce Wayne PLEASEOLEASEPLASEPLEASEPLEASE

YES OFC ML!!! HERES CRADLE ROBBER!BRUCE WAYNE TELLING READER HES BATMAN (expanding on this post)

you and alfred are the only people in the manor, it's almost midnight. you know this because alfred let you in, telling you everyone's absent after you ask where they are. making your way up to bruces room, you take note of the stillness, the absence of noise, chaos. you silently open the double doors into the masterbedroom, and sit on the edge of the bed.

bruces presence has becoming more and more scarce in the past two months, and in a couple weeks you would be celebrating six months together. he's been more fatigued as well, and there's been countless unexplainable injuries - and some of them weren't of the smaller kind either. it's gotten to the point where bruce would sometimes wince when you touch him, brushing it off with 'muscle pain' until you lift his shirt to reveal a swelling bruise or a cut or graze. "you know how clumsy I am, baby." he smiles, and he's right, you do know. he's not clumsy. he's hardly ever available at night, and the 'date night' plans turn into a brunch on Saturday instead.

all of this makes you start questioning and overthinking your entire relationship, was he seeing someone on the side? are you not good enough? did you do something wrong? no. you didnt. couldn't have. you're as good as it gets and you know it, he knows it. even the tabloids are noticing how unhappy you're looking, always slightly pouting, perhaps a bit more clingy; always tailing bruce like a lost puppy.

tears form, and you do nothing to stop them. it's been a while since you've had a good cry. and as Steph says, "even a girlboss needs to cry!". and you completely agree. you let out all of your bottled up emotions out, sniffles turning into heavy sobs, but quiet enough to keep alfred from worrying.

through your overthinking and sobbing, you don't hear bruces heavy footsteps, and you don't hear him when he opens the double doors to his room. you do however, hear him when he gently calls your name. blood rushing to you cheeks, you stop your sobbing, wiping your nose. but you don't face him. bruce moves toward you swiftly, sitting down next to you and scooping you up into his arms, placing you onto his lap so you face him. he sees you actively avoiding his eyes, so he places a gentle, but firm hand on you jaw and guides your face to look at him. "what's got you crying, huh, pretty?" the nerve of him..."you." you hiss, furrowing your eyebrows. his face grows solemn, the colour draining. you see this as a sign to rant to him about whay he's done. and you do. you go off on him, yelling, hitting his chest and ugly crying. he just listens, nodding every now and then in acknowledgement. his calmness irks you, "do you have anything to say for yourself, bruce?" you cry into his chest, soaking his black tshirt with tears and mascara. you resurface, resembling a panda with the way your mascara smudged around your eyes. bruce, reading the room, bites back his smile and instead let's out a long sigh.

with his arms around her still, he stands, keeping her steady. "gotta show you something. you might not like it though..." the vagueness of it worries you even more. he retracts his arms from you, taking your hand and leading you to his office. while you stare off into the distance, bruce does fiddles around (I forgot how he enters the batcave thru the office 😭) and then the bookshelf reveals a secret elevator. your jaw drops as he leads you into it, pressing the button to go down. a few moments later, the elevator stops and opens, revealing a high tech...basement? cave? he steps out, you do the same. you notice how cold it is, wrapping your arms around yourself, "...what is this...? I don't understand.". the tears start up again, and this time youre unsure why. bruce comfortingly rubs your back, shushing you gently. "I...I'm...batman." he says quietly.

it takes a moment for you to process what you heard. "so you're not cheating on me...?" you sniff, looking around you. bruce goes red, oh. that's what you thought? he shakes his head, "no, sweetheart. never." he guides you toward the batcomputer, letting you play around a bit as he watches. if bruce is batman...does that mean.. "so...damian is robin? and the others are...?" you look at him with a quizzical look, sniffling. he gives me a small smile, "yeah, baby." "that explains a lot." you hit his chest and chuckle.

hope this was alr, please send asks abt cradle robber!bruce wayne or dick or jason!!!

[icyhottodo]

SALTY COOKIES ˚₊✩‧₊

contains: 1k words, fluff, f2l, gn reader is a sorcerer as well but its mentioned once, kissing, yuji, nobara & gojo are menaces, maybe ooc? i tried T-T

summary: megumi has a certain soft spot for you. but maybe not the salted cookies you gave him.

prompt: "Are you mad at me?" "Why would I be mad at you?"

nini’s notes: i was scavenging through the depths of the internet to find inspiration and found one and RAN with it. this was supposed to be a kbg work but i miss gumi.

megumi gets angry at anyone on a regular basis. one thing your fellow friends noticed is that megumi would never get furious at you specifically.

"you’re lying, nobara," you say in disbelief.

"i swear y/n. it's like megumi never gets mad at you. he yells at us, but when he turns to you, he goes all heart eyes. look!" nobara dramatically exclaims to you before waltzing towards megumi. who was on the other side of the classroom, listening to yuji and gojo talk to each other.

nobara creeps up to megumi until she reaches just behind him and pops up from his back. "boo!"

"what the fuck, nobara- oh. hey y/n." megumi’s outburst was suddenly stopped when he turned around and saw you. (along with nobara hiding behind you as a meat shield. but megumi decided to ignore the short-haired girl and focus on you instead.)

megumi scooted his chair closer to you and leaned on an empty desk. placing his head on top of his hand with a small smile on his face. he greets you hesitantly, "hey y/n."

ever since nobara mentioned the truth about megumi acting around you, you could see how much nicer he acts around you.

"hey, i got you your favorite food." megumi offered, turning his head away from you to act uninterested. his eye catches a sparkly-eyed nobara, yuji, and gojo with their hands made into a ball.

"fushiguro! where's our foooood!?" yuji whines, shaking megumi’s body, with the other two frantically nodding their heads yes.

"you three can get your food." megumi rolls his eyes before walking away from their pestering.

you were finally sure that megumi has a soft spot when your peers decided to play a playful prank on the stoic man. they had baked some chocolate chip cookies, but the twist was that they intentionally substituted the sugar for salt instead. they walked up to you with a platter full of those salty cookies, asking you if you would want to hand those cookies to megumi.

"now, you don’t have to give these to fushiguro if you don’t wanna." yuji smiled anxiously, waiting for your reaction.

with the cookies being shoved into your face, you considered acting along with them or not. while the prank is harmless, you still felt slightly bad about tricking the guy. on the other hand, with this prank, you could tell for sure that megumi acted differently around you, perhaps even liking you. this outweighed your cons. plus if this went wrong, you could say yuji, gojo, and nobara told you to do so.

"alright, i will do it," you said as you smiled and took the platter of cookies. 

you found megumi training with maki in the courtyard. megumi saw you in the corner of his eye, and you gestured for him to come to you for a minute. because of this, megumi became distracted from his sparring, causing him to get whacked with a stick by maki.

"ouch. okay, you win this time; spar with the panda. i’ll take a break." megumi says, already jogging to where he saw you walk behind a huge willow tree. megumi left so fast that maki hasn't even gotten the chance to reply yet.

panda says, "fushiguro liked y/n, huh?"

"salmon."

"here," you said, showing off the plate. "i made some cookies for you to try."

"what's this for?" megumi asks, cautiously taking a cookie from you. you weren’t the one who usually bakes or gives anything out of the blue.

"i was just trying out new hobbies. i want to see if i am any good at it." you lied on the fly, without thinking. maybe you should take acting as a side job instead of being a sorcerer.

with your explanation, megumi takes a bite out of the cookie and immediately grimaces. megumi slowly chews on the piece of cookie before swallowing it down his throat harshly. you can notice his adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he has entirely consumed the sweet.

"i’ll be frank with you. it's salty, did you maybe switch out the sugar for salt by accident?"

after hearing this comment, yuji and nobara jump from who knows where much to megumi’s surprise. gojo sticks his tongue out and says, "it was a joke, bleh. we baked that and told y/n to give it to you."

you could see the cartoon-like cross-popping veins appearing on the corner of megumi’s forehead. megumi was ready to scold them, but before megumi could yell at them, yuji had pushed his other two friends, gojo and nobara, away, taking the plate of cookies from you in the midst of it. leaving the two of you in silence, which made you feel awkward.

is megumi mad at you? maybe you shouldn't have said yes to your friends. you asked shyly, looking at the floor away from the black-haired man. "are you… mad at me?"

a few seconds of silence passed by, making you more anxious by the second. the silence was broken when you heard footsteps came closer to you, megumi’s shoes appeared in your eyesight. you felt a rough hand touch your face, his thumb finger touching below your lips while the rest of his hand was tucked under your chin.

megumi gently pulls your head up to meet his gorgeous blue eyes with an adoring smile on his face. megumi was mere centimeters away from you. "and why would i be mad at you?"

well, that was a surprise. megumi eyes wander down onto your lips, making butterflies erupt wildly in your stomach. his eyes went back to your eyes. "can i… kiss you?"

megumi’s voice was so tender yet still had tones of uncertainty. you smiled, nodding your head at his question. megumi gave you a simple, fleeting peck, but it had you wanting more. you smiled at him when megumi pulled away, but you took him by the collar and passionately kissed him.

"i… i really like you, y/n," megumi said breathlessly.

"i like you too."

[theaviatorthatcouldnotfly]

okay okay since pnf is getting renewed and I've finally calmed down a bit here's my list of demands as compensation for no mml season 3 things I'd love to see in the next two seasons

MEAP ME IN ST LOUIS

!!!!!!bujeet!!!!!!!! more!!!!!!!

i will forever be screeching to see buford accidentally blush for like 0.5 seconds at baljeet before being all "sHuT uP nErD" in this essay i will-

more vanessa pls pls pls

more montnessa too (and please kill off the ferbnessa 😭 ferb having a one-sided puppy dog crush on her is cute it's fine but other than that move far far away from ferbnessa)

STACY AND PERRY PLOTLINE BEING RESOLVED

and just more stacy in general. more stacy man she's the best

CANDEREMY DATES

a few more of the mainly fireside girls episodes because oml those are gems

lots and lots and lots more neurodivergent shenanigans. LIKE LOOOOTS MORE

someone has two dads!!! or two moms!!! or two nb/gq/gnc parents!!!! or a single parent!!!! I AM BEGGING U PLEASE-

mml cameos. I do not make the rules.

mml references sprinkled in here and there

SINCE PNF GOT THEIR OWN CROSSOVER IN MML I THINK IT'S ONLY FAIR THAT MML GETS THEIR OWN OFFICIAL CROSSOVER IN PNF

hng references!!!

ofc phinabella

BREAK OUT ALL THE UNUSED PNF BOPS RN

more love händel more love händel more love händel more love händel-

(very very very long shot but perhaps a redo of aya or at least a little time skip forward for one episode?)

ON THAT NOTE. TIME MACHINE STUFF AND THE KIDDOS MEET THEIR TEENAGE SELVES WHO HELP THEM GET BACK TO THEIR TIMELINE

i just think doofenshmirtz should create a tapshoeinator

candace and vanessa taking tap dancing (@caitlinsnow-yayyy if ykyk)

more ducky momo 😭😭

CANONICALLY TRANS CANONICALLY GAY CANONICALLY BI CANONICALLY ARO CANONICALLY GNC JUST. CANONICALLY QUEER REP

okay but most of all if after this I actually don't get any mml content or queer content at all like zero like none like zilch I will screech. it will become not my 'hot motivated chaotic' villain origin story but instead my 'sobbing in a corner with my honorary peter the panda plushie' villain origin story

[sailoryooons]

yoonkook crack. jungkook has still not exited his twilight phase and wants to be a cullen soooooo bad. yoongi, an actual hundred-year-old vampire, is tired of him.

❀ Pairing: Human!Jungkook x Vampire!Yoongi

❀ Summary: Jungkook loves reading his smutty vampire comic and so what if he fashions himself a little bit after the main character. Yoongi finds it wildly offensive. Every day he has to watch Jungkook play at being ominous and spooky - and okay, maybe it’s a little cute. But it’s mostly offensive, and Yoongi would know. He’s a vampire, after all. 

❀ Word Count: 8,727

❀ Genre: Supernatural, coworkers to lovers, crack, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings:Jungkook is whatever the weeb equivalent is to Vampires - a Veeb, if you will, a little bit of pining, Misc. Vampire Lore I Made Up, Sekhmet vampire theory makes an appearances again, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected anal sex, oral (m. receiving) a lot of fluids and lub and come and spit, ass play (m. receiving), Jungkook cannot pick a position to fuck Yoongi, bottom Yoongi, top Jungkook, like? Random convos about predator/prey dynamic but not really you’ll see what I mean it’s there if u squint, Jungkook basically being a giant vampire nerd and cringe sometimes but it’s cute?

❀ Published: April 5, 2023

❀ A/N: THANK YOU TO M FOR REQUESTING THIS ABSOLUTE FUCKING GONG SHOW OF A FIC. This fic ame about… I actually do not at all remember how we got on this topic but basically we were laughing at the idea of Vampire Nerd JK losing it after finding out Yoongi was a vampire. Jungkook was originally supposed to be Acting More Like A Vampire but I realize it was more of I’m Kind Of Like A Vampire and The Authority On Them. Whatever, I actually like how this turned out and I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT M I LOVE YOU AND WE ARE IN A COMPLETELY NORMAL, MONOGAMOUS, VERY ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP. ALSO WHOOPS I SLIPPED AND MY 1-2K IS OVER 8K I’M EMBARAZZARDDD

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Min Yoongi hates Jeon Jungkook. 

No, that’s not entirely true. What Yoongi hates is Jungkook’s stupid fucking comic books. 

Jungkook slinks into the breakroom, eyes sweeping the mostly empty room until they settle on Yoongi and he smiles. Yoongi’s stomach flips at the small - perhaps imagined - light in Jungkook’s eyes as he pulls his backpack tighter and rushes over to the chair opposite Yoongi.

Slinging his backpack on the table, Jungkook winces when he knocks Yoongi’s thermos over. Yoongi catches it, lightning quick as Jungkook looks at him with wide, surprised eyes. He murmurs an apology and Yoongi waves it off, settling back into his chair as Jungkook sits down and begins shuffling through his backpack like a pack rat. 

Though Yoongi’s eyes are focused on the pages of his book, the letters swim before him as he observes Jungkook from the edge of his vision. He smells sweet, like honeysuckle. Sunshine. Warmth. He makes little sounds of frustration as he struggles to find what he’s looking for. After several huffs, Yoongi looks up, inky eyes looking at Jungkook who stares at his bag angrily. 

“There are Hello Pandas in the cabinet,” Yoongi offers gently. Jungkook looks up, blushing and chewing his lip. Yoongi shrugs as though Jungkook asked a question. “Saw them in there this morning.”

“Cool, thanks, hyung.” 

When Jungkook gets up, back facing Yoongi to go to the office pantry, Yoongi allows himself a small, secret smile. 

This shared routine of reading at lunch is Yoongi’s favorite. Every day they arrive in a pattern. Yoongi first, sitting at the table closest to the fridge and pulling the chair so it’s back is against the wall. He’ll pull out a book and spend the first five minutes reading, the loud noises of office life no longer a distraction after years of practice.

Second, Jungkook will come in. He’ll look around to assess who is in the breakroom, even though he always sits in the seat across from Yoongi. He’ll get his little snacks - usually Hello Panda cookies or a protein smoothie - and sit next to Yoongi and read his Fang Fucker comics, which he hides away with custom book covers.

So no, Yoongi doesn’t hate Jungkook. Not at all, really. But Yoongi does hate the way that he spots little vampire fang pins on Jungkook’s bags. Sees that he’s wrapped a red ribbon around one of the straps, smelling faintly of dried blood. 

Yoongi ignores the pang of hunger in his stomach as Jungkook returns, settling into his chair as Jungkook tears the corner of the package open with his teeth. He does everything with his fucking teeth, and Yoongi has told him dozens of times that Jungkook is going to damage them.

I have sharp teeth, hyung, was always the response, a secret smile on Jungkook’s face.

Now, Jungkook pulls out his book and cracks the spine, the sound whisper-soft against Yoongi’s sharp hearing. Jungkook slouches in his seat, popping a cookie into his mouth as his eyes become hypnotized on the page, book supported by his knees as he brings his feet on the edge of his chair, curled up.

Yoongi’s stomach turns to acid when he sees the comic panels. A crass, horrendous take on vampires, Fang Fuckers follows the story of two lovers separated by the laws of the supernatural. Belle, a human prone to accidents and drawing the attention of anything with a pulse forever pines after Eddie, a vampire always clad in jeans and who is effortlessly cool.

Glancing at Jungkook’s outfit, Yoongi presses his lips in a firm line. Today, Jungkook is dressed in jeans with the ankles rolled, a pair of dirty high-tops on his feet. His t-shirt is tucked loosely into the waist of his jeans, making Yoongi’s eyes linger far too long on Jungkook’s tapered waist. His tattoos are hidden by the sleeves of a jean jacket, worn and soft with time. 

Lately, Jungkook lets his hair grow out. It’s wild and wavy, trimmed somewhere between a mullet and a wolf cut. Just like Eddies, Yoongi notes with an eye twitch. Still, it looks good on Jungkook, the way most things do. 

The hair and the outfits aren’t the only thing that Jungkook imitates. Yoongi tries to focus on his own book instead of thinking about Jungkook’s little habits. The way Jungkook tells people he’s allergic to garlic, or how he has taken to walking as quietly around the office as possible. In a way, it’s a little bit amusing to watch Jungkook try to be mysterious and vague about how he spends his weekend. 

Just yesterday, Yoongi watched Jungkook flinch at the sun as everyone started walking to their cars after work. It had made him roll his eyes, but it is… sort of cute, this little fascination Jungkook has with the undead. The eternal. The absolutely ridiculous and not-at-all-accurate vampires in his little stories. 

But it’s also a little insulting. Especially when Jungkook argues with Taehyung about whether or not a stake would actually work on a vampire, or if vampires can see their reflections in a mirror. Yoongi has heard them whispering, tucked away in Jungkook’s cubicle next to Yoongi’s as they search Reddit threads about the best place to look for vampires. 

Taehyung walks into the breakroom. He’s in flowy tan trousers, a white t-shirt tucked in, and a soft-looking cardigan. He’s got multi-layered necklaces around his neck that clink as he goes to the fridge, asking what Jungkook is reading. 

Jungkook doesn’t look up when he says, “Spiderman.” 

“That’s nice,” Taehyung answers, a smirk evident in his voice. Yoongi knows Spiderman is their code for reading their little vampire porn. “New volume?”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook mumbles around a mouthful of Hello Pandas.

The snap of the cookies in his mouth sets Yoongi on edge. He glares at Jungkook, but the younger boy doesn’t notice, crunching away as he drinks in the colorful pages of his little book. Yoongi's jaw ticks. Jungkook’s brow is pulled together and he chews with a frown, the only sign that Yoongi has that he’s enjoying his snack and reading. 

There is a steady rhythm to the sounds of the breakroom. It’s Yoongi's favorite place at work. He’s always the first in, making coffee that fills the space with a slightly burnt smell. Taehyung comes in next, smiling and clothes swishing, always bright-eyed. Jungkook is usually the last in, quiet and avoidant as he snatches banana milk from the fridge and vanishes to his cubicle. 

The break room isn’t much. The linoleum is peeling, the fridge hums so loud that Yoongi can hear it at his desk, and there’s always a mysterious puddle by the sink. But his coworkers fill the space with their chatter. It’s where he learns about their lives. 

It’s where Yoongi learns that Taehyung loves to listen to jazz, humming Ella Fitzgerald while he uses the microwave. It’s where he learns that Jimin is dating Hoseok from product marketing, the room filled with their secret smiles and innocent hands brushing against one another. It’s where he learns that Jungkook liked to read Fang Fucker. Where he learns that Jungkook, sometimes a little distracted, communicates in soft noises rather than words. 

The break room is filled with the drama of coworkers and whispers. It’s full of humanity and Yoongi is well… not. 

A sudden hiss catches Yoongi’s attention. He smells the blood before he sees it. Taehyung is reaching for a rag at the counter, lemon left on a cutting board with a scarlet-painted knife. Yoongi works his jaw as he watches Taehyung wrap his hand, iron and salt blooming in the air, heavy on Yoongi’s tongue.

Jungkook goes rigid. Yoongi is distracted for a split second, eyes turning from Taehyung tending to his sliced finger as Jungkook launches upward out of his chair and bolts for the door. Yoongi raises his brow, watching it slam shut beside him as Taehyung looks up at the closed door, then swivels to Yoongi.

“Uhhh, can you get me a bandaid?” 

Yoongi nods, glaring at the door as he stands. “Sure.”

If there is one thing Yoongi knows, it’s that he is sick of Jungkook playing the part of a vampire. 

-

The love-hate relationship between work happy hours and Yoongi  is a complexity Yoongi has yet to unravel. He likes watching his coworkers unwind, sipping drinks through their little black straws and admitting they hate Jeffery from the data team. He thinks it’s sweet when he sees Hoseok get Jimin flustered by whispering something in his ear - something Yoongi wishes he didn’t hear over the roar of the bar but does. 

And yet Yoongi doesn’t like the press of people. Doesn’t like the way the sound of their collective voices buzz through him, or the way that he can feel their pulses throbbing behind thin skin, a hypnotic beat only he can hear and feel. It makes him feel crowded and irritable, but he likes watching the bright, burning flame of vitality and life here. 

It makes him feel human again, even if he hasn’t been for a very, very long time. 

Taehyung is pressed against the bar, telling Jungkook at hyperspeed how he met the very tall, very broad man next to him, who watches Taehyung with soft eyes and a dimple carving a hollow in his cheek. Namjoon. His name is Namjoon, Yoongi remembers. 

Yoongi watches over the rim of his glass, sipping his whisky as Jungkook’s finger traces the drops of condensation on his beer bottle, zigzagging around the label, ignoring Taehyung as he rambles on about Virginia Woolf. The movement catches his eye, and Yoongi focuses first on Jungkook's finger, long and slender. Then the tattoos and swirling ink that vanish under his sleeve, then the veins in his hand, pumping O positive through his body.

Though there is a unique note to each blood type, people smell different too. Taehyung smells like sugar, something light and spun like cotton candy. Namjoon smells like lemon and wax, something Yoongi would maybe find in a bookstore. And Jungkook…. Jungkook smells like honeysuckle, growing strong under a warm sun in the middle of spring. 

Yoongi’s mouth waters and he looks away, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and waving the bartender down for another. When he turns back to the conversation, Jungkook is scowling, brows pinched, mouth pouted. “That isn’t all I know about wolves,” he huffs in Taehyung's direction. His hands disappear in his jacket sleeves as he fiddles with the string. “And anyway, what would you know?”

Taehyung gives Jungkook a look. “About the same as you? We read the same comics.”

“Ugh, those aren’t the only source material.”

Yoongi puts together that somehow the topic of Virgina Woolf has led them to wolves and vampires. He fights the urge to roll his eyes, but he squeezes his glass a little tighter. Yoongi looks at Namjoon, hoping that Taehyung’s new boyfriend will help.

Instead, Namjoon sips his gin and tonic and cocks his head. “I’ve seen Tae reading those comics. Do they actually have any relevance to the historical lore of the vampire, or is it made up?”

“Oh a ton of it is deep rooted in historical and scientific studies,” Jungkook answers excitedly. Yoongi groans and Jungkook casts him a dubious look over his shoulder. Yoongi tongues the inside of his cheek and looks away. “The writer did a ton of research.”

Bullshit, Yoongi thinks but doesn’t say it out loud. 

Still, Yoongi listens to Jungkook drone on and on about how the pop culture depictions of vampires originate from the stories and myths of small villages in Romania, furthered by Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Now that makes Yoongi grin into his glass a little, agreeing that almost all of the media surrounding vampires rely heavily on European myths and stories. 

He watches the way Jungkook speaks, momentarily hypnotized. Jungkook isn’t an eloquent speaker, stopping often to blush and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear or find his words, chewing on his bottom lip. When he gains confidence, he speaks faster, using his hands more as he speaks, looking back and forth between Namjoon and Taehyung who are a loyal, captive audience.

Yoongi softens a little.

At heart, Jungkook is someone who is a bit of a fanatic. It’s harmless for now, Yoongi thinks. He’s always carefully listening to Jungkook, no matter how annoying it gets. Making sure that he can protect him, that he can pick up when Jungkook is in any real danger. 

“Historical research suggests that the first coven of Romanian vampires was called the Ouroborus,” Jungkook says. Yoongi goes rigid. Taehyung looks at Yoongi over Jungkook’s shoulder, tilting his head in a question, but the youngest of their group continues on. “That’s where Stoker got Dracula’s name idea from. It comes from the Romanian word dracul which is the devil but really it’s from the Latin draco for dragon. Really silly, because the dragon looks nothing like the serpent, but I think Dracula was a real figure who started the Our-”

“The Ouroborus are not Romanian, nor was that the point of origin.” Yoongi only belatedly realizes he says this out loud as the group turns to him. Jungkook’s flushed lips are parted and his eyes are round. Yoongi hears the way Jungkook’s heart speeds up, and senses his confusion. Yoongi clears his throat and diverts his eyes, shrugging it off. “That symbol means nothing.” 

“The Ouroborus symbol is for eternal life,” Jungkook says slowly, still recovering from the fact that Yoongi has bothered to entertain the conversation. Yoongi already regrets speaking up. The room is noisy and his throat burns. He’s a little hungry, and Jungkook, who turns toward him, smells a little too good. “And the confusion between the snake and the dragon makes perfect sense.”

“The Ouroboros is not eternity. It’s life and death.”

Jungkook frowns and sets his beer on the counter. “Hyung, no it’s not.” 

“Ah, whatever. It’s fine, forget I said anything.”

“No, hyung. You’re wrong.” 

And oh. Yoongi knows that expression that Jungkook is wearing. His jaw is set and sharp, lips pressed in a firm line. Jungkook stares at Yoongi, eyes intense and fist closed on the bar top, pressing into the sticky, lacquered counter. It’s cute when Jungkook looks like this. He’s determined and frustrated, and Yoongi hears the way Jungkook’s pulse begins to rush and sees the way his jaw flexes. 

Jungkook has never turned his argument face on Yoongi. There was nothing to ever argue about. Until now, Yoongi has tolerated Jungkook’s vampire fanaticism in silence. And yet the simple mention of Ouroborus has Yoongi on edge. 

“It represents infinity,” Jungkook insists. “The eternity of life of a vampire, the never ending cycle of immortality.”

“It’s the never ending cycle of death and life.” Yoongi’s tone is hard. He feels the overwhelming need for Jungkook to get this right. To not look into Ouruborus. To understand. “The Ouroborus originates as far back as Ancient Egypt when the god Ra created the goddess Sekhmet to destroy and punish humanity. She and her followers were immortal - the eternal representation of death and destruction. And when they couldn’t stop, Ra banished them to the darkness, never to walk in the sun again. Her followers took on the snake eating its tail to represent how their existence would always bring death and destruction.” 

Jungkook scoffs. “Vampires didn’t originate in Egypt. That’s not right.”

“They didn’t originate from anywhere, Jungkook. They just are. And they’re not all the same creatures, no matter what your little vampire porn book tells you.”

Yoongi regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. Jungkook recoils like he’s been slapped, his expression slipping from frustrated to hurt. 

Sighing, Yoongi reaches for Jungkook. Jungkook shrugs him off and throws cash on the bar before looking at Taehyung and Namjoon who watch in mute horror, bystanders to a car crash they can’t control. “See you guys later.” 

Shoving his way through the crowd, Jungkook vanishes. Yoongi can still smell him, though. Can hear the way Jungkook’s heart is racing, can taste the anxiety and anger rolling off of him. Yoongi wants to smack his own head against the countertop. 

“Well go after him,” Taehyung says, drawing Yoongi’s attention. Taehyung looks him up and down and laughs a little. “You’re hopeless.”

“What do you mean?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You obviously hate Jungkook’s obsession with vampires for whatever reason, but you’ve spent the last three years at work circulating him like a little satellite. You think I don’t notice you stocking the cabinet with Hello Pandas? Or putting that nasty banana milk in the fridge? You hate it and yet you indulge in him. So go apologize for making fun of him and make out or something.” 

“I…” Yoongi trails off and Taehyung smirks. 

“You told Jimin to stop talking about his fascination with tarot two days in because it was annoying you. You’ve let Jungkook talk to you and around you about vampires for three years.” 

Yoongi scratches the back of his ear. He can’t blush, but if he could, he would be stained pink from his ears to his nose under Taehyung’s accusations. “Ah. Sorry to ruin the night.”

“Go,” Taehyung grins. “And at least make out for a little, watching you pretend not to notice one another during your little reading lunches is exhausting.” 

It’s a cool night, silence blanketing the mostly-empty parking lot. The sun has made her final descent and given way to the moon, which slowly climbs into the sky, bracketed by stars. Yoongi sees Jungkook standing near the entrance to the fenced-in parking lot, looking down at his phone as he toes gravel beneath his shoe. Yoongi hears the soft crunch and he sighs.

Jungkook doesn’t hear him coming. He never does, and this time Yoongi doesn’t announce his arrival or make human noises. Instead, he takes a second to drink in Jungkook. Jungkook is bathed in the halo of a streetlamp that buzzes loudly above their heads. It’s still early night, a little bit of color in the sky near the horizon, but Yoongi only has eyes for Jungkook, who sniffs a little and wipes at his face with the back of his sleeve.

An ache fills Yoongi’s chest when he realizes that Jungkook has been crying. Or at least has shed a single tear. He sees Jungkook swallow thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing. He adjusts his backpack, fang and bat pins reflecting in the street lamp.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Jungkook lurches and cries out in alarm, jumping away from Yoongi and whirling around. Yoongi winces when Jungkook stumbles but catches his balance, pulse beating so loudly that Yoongi can’t help but drop his gaze down to where Jungkook’s blood rushes wildly through his jugular, artery pulsing. 

“Yeah, well,” Jungkook huffs, scowling. “You did.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah right.” Jungkook turns away and looks at his phone. Yoongi can see him waiting for an Uber. 

“Jungkook.”

“I get it,” Jungkook snaps. “You think I’m weird. You don’t like my comics, you don’t like that I find this stuff cool, and you don’t like me. Message received.” 

“I never said any of that.” 

Jungkook throws a heated glance his way. “Oh, so you do like my comics?”

“No,” Yoongi admits. “Because they’re wrong.” He sees the hurt flicker across Jungkook’s face and Yoongi wants to scream. “I don’t mean wrong because of the sex shit or whatever. I don’t care about that. They’re wrong about vampires. All of it.” 

“How would you know?” Jungkook asks the question and Yoongi wants to answer so badly. Wants to blurt it out, wants to admit that he has the stupid answers to Jungkook’s questions. “You don’t know anything about vampires. And then you made fun of me and embarrassed me.”

“You shouldn’t be talking about or looking into Ouroborus.”

“What do you know?” 

“I know things.”

“Not about this, you don’t even like vampires.”

“You don’t know what I like.”

“Yeah, because you barely talk to me. We’ve been coworkers for years - sat next to each other for years. I get it, but don’t make fun of the things I like. Don’t talk nonsense just to tease me.”

And oh Yoongi sees it now. Sees the insecurity creep in, sees the boy who thinks that his coworker is taking the thing he loves most and using it as a weapon.

Jungkook seems to fold in on himself, arms hugging around his middle, chin tucking to his neck. He looks so small like this, and Yoongi wants to kick himself. Hasn't Jungkook seen how much Yoongi does like him? Hasn’t he noticed how Yoongi waters the plants on Jungkook’s desk that would have died by now? How he puts his favorite snacks in the break room? How he always makes sure to stay late at the office and walk out together, just to make sure no one hurts Jungkook? 

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” Yoongi says gently. “You scared me.”

“I-” Jungkook cuts himself off and tilts his head. His earrings catch the light. Delicate like the careful slope of his mouth, like the soft skin of his neck. “Scared you?”

“Most of your rambling about vampires is annoying,” Yoongi admits and Jungkook scrunches his nose. “But harmless. Not able to hurt anyone. Sometimes you’re right. Sometimes you’re wrong. But then tonight you started talking about Ouroborus, and I don’t even know where you heard of that, but you shouldn’t be looking into it. Into them.” 

“There are symbols in my comic book,” Jungkook says slowly. His lips are a little pouted, distracting Yoongi from the dangerous subject matter. “And hints. So I looked it up. They’re like, a vampire coven-”

“They’re a cult.” Yoongi is firm. Clenches and unclenches his fist. “Stop looking them up, Jungkook. They love people like you, hypnotized by the mystery and the thrill. Please.” 

“How do you know?” Yoongi knew he would ask. Jungkook shakes his head, earrings clinking together. Down the street, a cat yowls at someone walking by. “I thought you hated my vampire stuff. You always make a face when Tae and I talk about it.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Okay, well I do hate your vampire stuff.”

“Exactly, so why should I take anything you say for fact? I’ve spent hours reading on this stuff-”

“Well I’ve spent two hundred and seven years as a vampire. My anniversary is actually in two weeks.” 

Yoongi’s admission hangs heavily between them. Jungkook stares, open mouth. Yoongi suddenly has the very human urge to shift from foot-to-foot. Or to fidget, which isn’t something that he feels often - nervousness isn’t something that he feels often.

Yet he feels it all the time with Jungkook. Feels like squirming in his chair when Jungkook leans on the breakroom table between them, laying his head on his backpack with Fang Fucker tucked in his lap. Feels annoyed when he sees Eddie turning into bats on the pages, misting across panels to save Belle on the other side. Feels fond and happy when Jungkook gets through a presentation without stumbling, especially after Yoongi could hear him practicing in the bathroom all morning. 

Jungkook makes Yoongi feel so human. Makes him feel things that he doesn’t need at all, but wants.  

“You what?”

The Uber pulls into the parking lot, tires hissing against crackling gravel. Jungkook ignores the car completely, even though Yoongi waves his hand and moves out of the car's way. Headlights flash toward them as Yoongi turns, and Jungkook gasps, leaning backward but not taking a full step. 

Yoongi knows what the younger has just seen. A sliver reflection of eyes, flashing in the sudden flooding of light against them. Predator eyes when exposed to light in the dark. Jungkook is squeezing his phone tight in his hands, knuckles white. His heart is racing and he totally ignores it when the driver rolls down the window and asks if he’s Jungkook. 

“Prove it,” Jungkook says to Yoongi.

“What? You believe me?”

“Maybe. Prove you’re one and that you’re not just turning this into a joke.” He takes a deep breath. “Prove you’re not making fun of me.” 

“I would never-”

“Prove it, Yoongi.”

Yoongi. Not hyung. Yoongi fights a smile at how ferocious Jungkook demands this, hands fisted at his side. Yoongi gestures to the car. “Get in. To wherever you live. I can show you.”

Nodding, Jungkook pops open the door and slides right into the car. Yoongi sighs, looking upward and closing his eyes briefly. Of course Jungkook would get into a car with someone who just told him he was a vampire. Jungkook has no fear of Yoongi, not a single worry in the world. Even as Yoongi slides into the back seat, casting his dark eyes in Jungkook’s direction, there is not a single iota of anxiety in Jungkook’s face or scent.

Just pure, unfettered excitement. 

City lights blur by. Yoongi watches Jungkook, flickering shadows and light as they pass by other cars on the road. Jungkook watches Yoongi right back, his dark eyes studying Yoongi as though he could find some sort of visual indicator that Yoongi is the vampire he says he is. 

This is dangerous. Yoongi knows that he shouldn’t be indulging. But the crestfallen face Jungkook made when he thought Yoongi was making fun of him and the memory of Jungkook sniffling softly makes Yoongi throw caution to the wind. 

Yoongi trusts himself around Jungkook. 

They don’t speak until they’re at Jungkook’s apartment and he’s walking over the threshold, flipping on the light. Yoongi remains on the other side of the door and that urge to fidget is back as Yoongi’s anxiety spikes. He doesn’t move, watching as Jungkook holds the door open, his back facing Yoongi. 

Idiot, Yoongi thinks, Jungkook not realizing that he has turned his back to a predator. 

When Yoongi doesn’t cross, Jungkook looks over his shoulder, head tilted. Puzzled. Yoongi gazes at Jungkook intently, eyes flickering to the floor back up to Jungkook. For a human, Jungkook is perceptive. He tracks Yoongi’s gaze and his mouth forms a soft ‘o’ as he meets Yoongi’s eyes.

“Can you not cross?” Yoongi shakes his head and Jungkook hums, holding the door open wider. “Prove it.”

Yoongi sighs. Lifts his foot and brings it forward, though he already knows what’s going to happen. He meets an invisible barrier, foot stopping in mid air. It feels like kicking a wall, solid and unrelenting. Yoongi puts his foot back down, but Jungkook doesn’t seem satisfied. 

Reaching through the door, Jungkook pulls Yoongi by the hand. Yoongi flinches, startled that Jungkook is touching him so freely as he pulls Yoongi’s hand toward the door frame. Jungkook’s hand passes through just fine, but he meets resistance as Yoongi’s hand hits the invisible wall, palm flat and pressing on it. 

With a noise somewhere between a gasp and giggle, Jungkook tugs Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi rolls his eyes, but lets Jungkook yank at his jacket sleeve. Nothing he does helps, and Yoongi is stuck with his hand pressed up against the barrier and Jungkook’s long fingers wrapped around his forearms, tugging. 

“Wow,” Jungkook whispers. He looks up at Yoongi, stars in his eyes, blush on his face and the most beautiful smile Yoongi has ever seen. “I just have to…?” Yoongi nods, understanding the question. “Come in, hyung.” 

Before Yoongi can step through the door, Jungkook tugs Yoongi’s arm. It doesn’t make Yoongi move much. He’s an aged vampire, strong and fast. But it’s cute when Jungkook lets out a squeal as Yoongi steps over the threshold into Jungkook’s home, the door slamming shut behind him.

Jungkook doesn’t bother turning the lights on, getting up close to Yoongi and tilting his head. He’s much taller than Yoongi, though about as broad. This close, Yoongi can hear the blood rushing through Jungkook’s nervous system, a whisper of sound against his hyper-sensitive ears. He can smell Jungkook, sweet and like spring, nearly taste him on his tongue as Jungkook looks at Yoongi’s mouth.

“Fangs?” he asks, because it’s Jungkook. Of course he isn’t afraid that there is an apex predator in his home, that Yoongi could rip him apart and- “Show me.”

Yoongi doesn’t know why he does it. Or maybe he does. Because since Jungkook walked into work three years ago, Yoongi has done nothing but indulge Jungkook in everything. Let’s him ramble about Fang Fucker. Gives him all of his snacks. Let’s Jungkook take Yoongi’s favorite pens that write nice and smooth when Jungkook loses his own pens. 

As Yoongi opens his mouth and feels the sharp sting of his fangs gliding through his gums, he realizes that he told Jungkook the truth simply because it’s Jungkook. Because he wanted Jungkook to know. Because it makes Jungkook light up like a solar flare, clapping his hands as he grins at the two, sharpened points that help Yoongi puncture his prey and drink deeply from the artery. 

“How do you turn?”

“No.” Jungkook straightens and looks down the wide bridge of his nose at Yoongi, lips downturned. Yoongi’s fangs vanish and he glares. “I’m not telling you that, you’d just try and do it yourself.”

“I’m not suicidal.”

“Who said death was involved? Don’t fish for information, Jungkook.”

The boy at least has the decency to look chagrined. “Fine. I have questions.”

“I’m tired.”

“Do vampires sleep?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, realizing he has opened himself to the world’s longest line of questioning. “In a way, yes. Not the way humans do.” 

“So like a resting trance.” 

“That’s…” Yoongi thinks about when he lays down, settling somewhere between waking dreams and fully functioning. The dreams aren’t like the dreams that he had when he was a human. They’re more like memories, flipping through like a scrapbook as he rests. “Yeah, actually. Pretty accurate.” 

Jungkook’s grin is wicked. “Learned that from Fang Fucker. I guess it’s pretty accurate after all, huh?”

“No.”

“Will you fuck me?”

If Yoongi was a creature that relied on breathing to live, the air would leave his lungs. He doesn’t gasp anymore, but he would now if he could, blinking two dark eyes up at Jungkook who is grinning, and who has something sharp and mischievous in his gaze. 

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Yoongi’s gums ache. “You suddenly find out I’m a vampire and want to fuck me?”

“What? Wait!” Jungkook lurches after Yoongi, who turns on his heel toward the door. He only stops because Jungkook asks. It’s like Jungkook’s word is his command, and Yoongi knows that he could leave. Could vanish from the apartment. And yet he doesn’t. “I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t… no.” 

“Then how did you mean it? You’re telling me you would ask that if I wasn’t a vampire?”

“No, but not because I don’t want to.” Yoongi cocks his head and Jungkook’s face flushes. He hides behind both of his hands and lets out an aggravated sound. “Ugh! I just, I got excited and it was the first thing I could think of and yeah, I do want to fuck you because sex with a vampire like - is it like the comic books? I would love to know.”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi says gently, but it goes unheard.

“But that’s totally not why I want to in general, hyung. Taehyung thinks that you have a crush on me, and it made me so nervous at first because I always thought you were so pretty and quiet and maybe a little bit scary, but now I realize that maybe you’re not scary, you’re just a vampire.”

Yoongi says Jungkook’s name again, but the boy is on a roll, ranting into his hands and hiding his embarrassment from Yoongi as best as he can. Yoongi is no longer irritated, though, as Jungkook continues mumbling and smelling like honeysuckle. 

“And I totally have a crush on you, which is why when I thought you were making fun of me I got so upset and had to get out of there. I didn’t want you to see me cry even though crying is totally okay, but you’re always so unemotional and I thought it would annoy you more. And then you’re all here like ‘I’m a vampire’ and it fried my brain and I don’t know? We’re in my apartment, so sex seems like-”

“Jungkook.” 

Jungkook looks up from where his face is buried in his palms. Eyes wide, innocent. Mouth parted, slick-shined with his spit. Yoongi’s eyes drop to Jungkook’s mouth. Wants to know if he tastes just as sweet as he smells. Wants to know what the shape of his mouth is like, wants to feel the soft and hard lines of Jungkook’s body hiding under the cotton of his shirt. 

Yoongi isn’t like Eddie in Fang Fucker, who kept trying to hide from the desire for Belle. Yoongi isn’t scared of himself. He knows what he’s capable of, he is good at control. He’s been alive long enough to have mastered himself, and he isn’t worried about snapping Jungkook’s neck or taking a bite. 

So Yoongi doesn’t fight some long-winded internal war. Doesn’t feel guilty when he slides toward Jungkook, letting his feet move him vampire-smooth. Jungkook sucks in a little bit of air. Watches how Yoongi settles up close to him, tilting his head up. 

Jungkook’s breath is warm and is as sweet as his blood smells. Jungkook shivers and Yoongi grins. This close, he can ount each and every one of Jungkook’s long, silky soft eyelashes. 

“You,” Yoong murmurs, voice low and soft. “Can fuck me, Jungkook. I will be doing none of the work.”

“Really?”

Yoongi looks down at Jungkook’s mouth again and hums, zeroing in on it. 

Jungkook wastes no time. Yoongi watches Jungkook close his eyes and lean in. He has a brief second to smile, to lean up into it, pushing onto his tiptoes to meet Jungkook’s eager mouth. Jungkook’s lips are soft soft, tasting faintly like cherry chapstick that he must have applied in the parking lot waiting for his car and a little bit like beer.

Yoongi doesn’t mind, humming delightly as Jungkook pulls Yoongi toward him. Yoongi lets him, Jungkook pressing their waists together as his hands loop around Yoongi’s back, holding him there. Jungkook is a messy kisser, but he’s eager and gentle, tongue licking at the seam of Yoongi’s mouth until Yoongi opens up.

Jungkook brushes his tongue gently across Yoongi’s teeth, feeling for the sharpness of fangs. Yoongi huffs in Jungkook’s mouth, pushing him slightly and making Jungkook stumble a few inches. Jungkook is shadowed in the dark of his living room, eyes half-lidded and mouth shining in Yoongi’s spit. 

“I’m not biting you.”

Jungkook grins, his tongue poking through his teeth as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Bet you want to though, huh? Wanna bite me, hyung?”

“I’m not one of your little fictional vampires,” Yoongi assures Jungkook, who pulls at Yoongi’s shirt to bring him closer. Their chests are pressed together, Yoongi looking up as Jungkook bends down to steal another sloppy, open mouth kiss. “I have control and I’m not worried about it.” 

“Control, huh?” Jungkook tugs Yoongi's hand. “I bet you have lots of stamina too.”

Yoongi feels like he’s walking on air when he follows Jungkook to his bedroom. He takes in multiple things at once, able to flick his gaze across the room and see all of the details of Jungkook’s life at the same time that Jungkook tugs on Yoongi’s sleeve, making a soft noise that indicates he wants Yoongi to move faster. 

Jungkook’s room has a boyish charm. His bed is pressed up against the wall, a single lamp over it with a stack of comics on the nightstand. His sheets smell clean, though vaguely of floral soap. There are comic panels pressed in glass and displayed in wooden frames over the bed: Spiderman, Scarlet Witch, Fang Fuckers.

Near the bathroom, there’s a meticulously organized bookcase, teeming with comic books and actual books. Yoongi sees the names flash by as Jungkook nudges Yoongi toward the bed and huffs when he realizes he can’t simply shove Yoongi onto the mattress. The vampire laughs and sits down as Jungkook sheds his jean jacket, letting it hit the floor. 

It pleases Yoongi that Jungkook’s room isn’t messy, though a little disheveled. There seems to be an organized chaos to it, to Jungkook. He likes that, the way that Jungkook is at the nexus of impossible spectrums. LIke now, when Jungkook looks shy and innocent as he drops to his knees in front of Yoongi, looking up at him through dark lashes. 

Jungkook’s hair curls so elegantly across his forehead. Yoongi reaches forward, carding his hands through the silk strands. It’s just as soft as he thought and he smiles, leaning down to catch Jungkook’s mouth again, tongues tangled and the wet smack of their kisses sending heat into Yoongi’s stomach, making his cock stir. 

Of course Jungkook can get Yoongi semi-hard by just kissing. But what really does it, is when Jungkook breaks from the kiss, a string of spit between them for a moment. Yoongi watches it break before his eyes zero in on Jungkook’s tattooed hands going for the button on Yoongi’s jeans.

“Wanna suck you off,” Jungkook admits, fingers working the zipper. Yoongi leans back on his arms, watching Jungkook with rapt attention.

He is so fucking beautiful. The ink on his arms is exquisite, moving in artistic whorls of mostly black art with some pieces of color splashed in. Yoongi thinks that the pair of them are a lot like Jungkook’s tattoos. Yoongi is the stark, unchanging black and Jungkook is the bright, splatter of color and life. 

Yoongi’s hands go to Jungkook’s arms, fingers tracing the color. Jungkook pauses trying to get Yoongi’s pants off, letting Yoongi feel him. Jungkook is so warm, vitality humming in his veins under paper-thin skin. Jungkook ducks forward, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s wrist, Jungkook’s mouth eager to place butterfly-soft kisses on Yoongi’s skin.

It makes Yoongi smile. He can’t remember the last time he was intimate with someone. It doesn’t matter. He lets Jungkook feel his skin. 

“You're warm,” Jungkook notes, turning his attention to tugging on Yoongi’s jeans. Yoongi lifts his hips, helping him pull them down his thighs and knees, fabric scraping. It feels so good, the heat of Jungkook’s hands, the taste of his excitement in the air. “Not cold at all.”

“We live between life and death,” Yoongi sighs, head tilting back as Jungkook rips off Yoongi’s shoes. Jungkook’s sweet scent mixes with the headiness of his arousal. Every inch of Yoongi’s skin is like an exposed wire, especially when Jungkook places open mouth kisses to Yoongi’s thighs, making him twitch. “We are neither entirely dead nor entirely alive. I adapt to the temperature around me.”

“Fascinating,” Jungkook mumbles as his mouth leaves wet stains, inching toward Yoongi’s briefs. 

Yoongi is throbbing. He feels light-headed and shaky when he lifts his head. Jungkook is eager between his legs, pressing his palms against Yoongi’s thighs to spread him open more, to give himself more room. Yoongi lets himself be pried open, watches with parted lips as Jungkook dips forward, licking at the damp spot on his briefs. 

A curse drips from Yoongi’s mouth and his lids flutter. He’s determined to watch Jungkook, slack-jawed as the shy little Jungkook Yoongi knows is replaced with an eager, hungry thing. Jungkook mouths at Yoongi’s cock over the fabric, making his hips lift from the bed, a moan falling out of his mouth. 

Jungkook looks up, mouth wet and eyes sparkling. “You sound pretty.”

“You look pretty.”

Yoongi smiles when Jungkook’s nose and cheeks turn cherry blossom pink. “Are vampires always so nice?”

“No.” Jungkook skims his hand up Yoongi’s thigh, skating over to grip Yoongi firmly, massaging through what suddenly feels like the world's thinnest fabric. Yoongi hisses between his teeth, eyes shutting as Jungkook teases him. “And you don’t want a mean vampire.”

“I don’t,” Jungkook agrees. “I want,” he continues slowly, pulling at the fabric of Yoongi’s briefs. “A sweet, gentle vampire. Who is very quiet and likes to read his books mysteriously. Who secretly does things around the office for everyone and- fuck you have a thick dick.”

Jungkook stumbles on his cute little monologue, making Yoongi laugh. It comes out closer to a growl, startling Jungkook. Yoongi’s cock bobs against his shirt, precum smearing on the dark fabric. The brown tip is aching for Jungkook’s mouth, inches away and panting.

“That was sweet.” 

Jungkook looks up at him, fingers digging into Yoongi’s thigh where he holds his legs open. “You’re sweet. You’re nice. And you…” Jungkook turns his face away, trying to hide that he is furiously blushing again. Yoongi can see it though, can make out every single detail on Jungkook’s face and it makes him melt. “Whatever, I’m going to suck your dick now.”

Laughter dies  in Yoongi’s throat, replaced by a deep groan that comes rumbling out of him as Jungkook licks the underside of Yoongi’s shaft, tongue flat and eager. Sparks slide up his back as he clutches the sheets. Jungkook mouths up the side of Yoongi’s cock, hand going to grip at the base, tongue laving, hungry, determined. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi whispers. Jungkook giggles, pulling Yoongi’s swollen tip toward his mouth. He licks around the head happily, Jungkook nearly humming in delight. 

Yoongi’s mind is blank. He watches, entranced and hips squirming as Jungkook takes Yoongi’s cock into his mouth proper, hollowing his cheeks and giving an experimental suck. Yoongi’s hips come off of the bed, and Jungkook whines, retracting his mouth with a wet sound as he blinks up at Yoongi. 

“No,” is all he mumbles in Yoongi’s general direction before he’s back on him, taking Yoongi into his mouth and down to the back of his throat. Yoongi doesn’t move his hips, anchored to the spot like Jungkook wants. 

“Holy shit!” Yoongi curses. 

He can tell Jungkook loves this. His throat twitches around Yoongi and his eyes water, looking up at the vampire as he pulls back a little. His tongue scrapes the sensitive underside of Yoongi’s dick and Yoongi thinks he might come just like this. 

Jungkook seems to lose himself in a messy, wet rhythm. He closes his eyes, lashline shining with unshed tears every time the crown of Yoongi’s cock kisses the back of Jungkook’s throat, feels the soft, dewy spot as Jungkook swallows Yoongi deep. 

Curses across many languages spill from Yoongi’s lips. He falls backward on the bed, moaning up toward the ceiling. Jungkook is loud, his ravenous mouth stretched tight around Yoongi, drool escaping the sides of taught lips and dripping down to Yoongi’s balls.

“Your fucking mouth,” Yoongi whispers, voice broken as he trembles under Jungkook’s ministrations. 

Jungkook pulls off Yoongi with a wet-pop. “Wanna fuck you.” He licks up Yoongi’s precum again. “Can I fuck you, hyung?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi has no reservations. Hei can protect Jungkook, from both Yoongi himself and anything else. There is no fear there, only want. Only desire that has been burning for three fucking years that he sat next to Jungkook, the cute boy who poured over his vampire comics.

The whisper of clothes is loud in the room. Jungkook presses himself against Yoongi, crawls on top of him and cages him in. His mouth is filled with the taste of Yoongi’s precum and his own unique taste, but Yoongi devours him, biting into Jungkook’s bottom lip, pulling back and letting Jungkook grind into him.

Jungkook is warm, like the sun is trapped underneath his skin. Yoongi hasn’t felt the warmth of human skin like this in so long. He leans into Jungkook, hands pressed on the smooth, strong planes of Jungkook’s back as the younger grabs lube from his nightstand and pops the cap open with ease. 

Cool, slick fingers prod at Yoongi’s tight rim and he lets out a rumble, drawing innocent eyes toward him. Yoongi grins and nips Jungkook’s mouth, wiggling his hips to chase Jungkook’s hesitant fingers. “Come on,” Yoongi urges, starving for it. Aching to be fucking filled, to have Jungkook closer. “Loosen hyung up.”

Jungkook whimpers, ever eager to follow instruction. He presses a finger in, sinking to the second knuckle and Yoongi sighs, head going slack as he lets Jungkook experiment, sliding his finger in and out gently. It feels good, but Yoongi wants more. Yoongi needs more. Hasn’t had this in years, hasn’t ever had Jungkook. 

“More.” 

It’s all Jungkook needs, growing confident and gently fucking into Yoongi’s tight walls with a set pace. Yoongi is spiraling. Feels like he can’t catch his breath, though he doesn’t need it. He vibrates at a new frequency as Jungkook slides in another digit, the wet squelch mixing with their moans. 

Yoongi pulls Jungkook’s mouth to his, teeth clacking, tongues uncoordinated, noses bumping together as Jungkook stretches Yoongi. It feels good, especially when Jungkook reaches that soft spot in Yoongi, making his stomach lurch and his feet dig into his bed. 

“There?” 

“There,” Yoongi agrees in high-keen. 

Determined, Jungkook gets after it. Busies his mouth with sucking Yoongi’s flesh raw, nipping, licking his way around the expanse of Yoongi’s throat. Jungkook seems to particularly favor the sensitive spot over Yoongi’s jugular and Yoongi laugh-moans when Jungkook’s teeth drag against where Yoongi’s pulse would be. 

“Fuck me,” Yoongi begs. “Just fuck me, I’m good.”

“Okay.” 

They’re a tangle of slick limbs. Yoongi tastes sweat on Jungkook’s skin, his tongue heavy in his mouth as Jungkook jostles him up his bed, pushing his thighs open, splaying him open butterfly-perfect. 

Jungkook’s eyes are soft and curious, looking down at where Yoongi lays marked and messy, pliant for Jungkook, eager hole gaping, cock weeping. Yoongi pulls at Jungkook’s hands. Makes a soft sound. Wants him, begs for him quietly. 

With a soft smirk, Jungkook fists his own cock a few times, pumping his thick, long length. Yoongi’s eyes follow the movement, chewing on his bottom lip, waiting and wanting. He knows is going to feel perfect, wants to feel the push and drag-

Jungkook’s tip catches the rim of Yoongi’s ass and he sighs. Digs his fingers into Jungkook’s skin and pulls. He is careful with his pressure, always regulating what he’s doing, never touching Jungkook hard enough to bruise. The smile on Jungkook’s face as he ducks his head to watch his cock sink into the heat of Yoongi is enough for Yoongi to know that Jungkook knows. Knows Yoongi has this under control. Knows that at any moment, Yoongi could take over. Could ruin Jungkook and leave him dripping and broken.

That’s not what Yoongi wants. He wants this. The pressure of Jungkook filling him up, tight squeeze, light burn, walls hugging and fluttering. He feels Jungkook deep, never ending, ceaseless. And then Jungkook’s tapered hips are pressed against Yoongi’s ass, stilling as Yoongi fights around the stretch.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants, a human habit that had slipped in between the distraction of Jungkook splitting him open. “Come on, Kook.”

Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s the way he whispers the plea or if it’s the nickname, but Jungkook sheds his hesitance. He presses Yoongi’s thighs to the mattress, putting his weight into him. It feels good, to have the heavy feeling of Jungkook on top of him, especially when he starts fucking Yoongi in earnest. 

The world turns to liquid. At least, that’s how it feels as Yoongi turns molten under Jungkook. The younger fucks Yoongi hard, face fixed in a snarl as he grabs at Yoongi’s thighs, fingers slipping on lube-slick skin. Yoongi’s eyes roll backward, letting Jungkook’s thrust lull him somewhere like a dream. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses. “You like being fucked like this, huh? Big dangerous vampire, split open by me, huh?”

“Yes.” It’s a raspy note stuck in Yoongi’s throat, so he nods. Babbles something else. He doesn’t know. 

With a huff of laughter, Jungkook pulls out. Yoongi’s eyes fly open, a protest on his lips, ready to snarl that he felt good, that he felt full. Jungkook cuts him off, flipping Yoongi over, handling him as though Jungkook were the predator here. 

Before Yoongi can think much, Jungkook is prying his ass cheeks apart, spitting right on his already wet hole. Yoongi keens and Jungkook chuckles behind him, sliding back in and fuck it feels so good. 

With a hand grabbing Yoongi’s hips to lift him, Jungkook powers into him, the snap of his hips fast and efficient. The sounds he makes puts Yoongi’s world on a spinning top, going round and round. Jungkook sounds so pretty, whining as he adjusts himself so he’s fucking deeper into Yoongi. 

Warmth blooms inside of Yoongi and he lets out a scream. Jungkook hits his prostate head on and it feels like he’s unraveling, pressing his face into the sheets and arching his back. He scrambles backwards, pushing himself onto Jungkook’s cock, desperate for more more more. 

Just as Yoongi starts to crest toward the peak of his orgasm, Jungkook shifts again. Yoongi growls and Jungkook ignores it entirely, pulling out of Yoongi with a wet mess and turning him around. He lifts Yoongi easily and the vampire loves it. Loves how Jungkook handles him, instructing Yoongi to loop his legs around his waist. Loves when he holds onto Jungkook’s shoulders, shining with sweat as Jungkook fucks up into him, his hands bounding Yoongi in his lap. 

It’s so deep that Yoongi thinks he might die. Perhaps one can kill a vampire after all. It wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, head sinking into Jungkook’s shoulder. The smell of honeysuckle flooding his senses. The feeling of Jungkook fucking him with everything he has. The soft feeling of Jungkook nosing Yoongi’s hair in contrast with the way he slams Yoongi down into his lap.

Overwhelmed, Yoongi comes suddenly. A snarl rips out of him and his fingers tighten a little, but not enough to do more than bruise. Not enough to hurt Jungkook - never hurt Jungkook. He shudders as Jungkook quickens his pace, chases his orgasm, driving Yoongi toward overstimulation. 

Yoongi squirms and squeals, fights Jungkook - but not really. Not in any way that tells Jungkook Yoongi is actually trying to get away, because they both know that he can. Jungkook laughs, pinning Yoongi down and sinking deep into the heart of him where he comes with a long groan, face dropping into Yoongi’s neck.

Yoongi feels the rough wetness of Jungkook’s tongue, licking a stripe up his neck. Despite himself, Yoongi laughs and rolls his eyes, feeling alive and brighter than ever.

“Beast,” he jests, slapping Jungkook’s side.

Jungkook sloppily kisses his way to Yoongi’s mouth, letting himself soften inside, not willing to pull out. Their mouths mingled together, not really kissing, not really not kissing. Just tangled tongues, sometimes just mouths pressed against one another. 

“So you like being handled, huh?” Jungkook asks, eyes fluttering open. Yoongi looks up at them. This close, he can see all the different shades of brown, layer after layer of shades. “Vampire likes being a pillow princess?” 

“And you like being rough and fast,” Yoongi shoots back. “Makes you feel like a predator, huh?” 

Jungkook’s nose goes red. Yoongi likes it when Jungkook’s face reddens. So full of blood and life and lust. “A little.” 

When Jungkook pulls out, it’s an audible, wet mess. Yoongi feels the spill out of him. Doesn’t care. Likes the debauchery of it. Plus, he’s distracted when Jungkook lays down next to him, head on Yoongi’s chest. He isn’t going anywhere, seeking the comfort of Yoongi’s arm as Jungkook’s heart rate begins to die down. 

“So,” Jungkook says airly. “I guess this makes me a fang fucker?”

Yoongi groans. “Not those fucking comic books.” 

“I have so many more things I wanna try, hyung.” Jungkook looks up at him, eyes glittering. “Give me ten minutes. I wanna see how long you can ride me.” 

Yoongi huffs, but there’s mirth in it. 

So Yoongi doesn’t hate Jeon Jungkook at all. Not one little bit. 

[prismaticpichu]

Zack and Sephiroth watch Kung Fu Panda 2 (Zack completely forgot about that one scene with Po’s mom). Sephiroth just assumes it’s going to be a silly kids movie. What’s the reaction

Sephiroth, sitting stagnant on the couch, has a hollow, almost ghostly look consuming his once steely eyes. It feels as if something has been gouged out of him—catching him off-guard, striking him where he’s weak. Like an all too raw piece of his soul has been ruthlessly pried from its fragile structure. The movie has been paused for several seconds now, Zack having noticed the way his friend has seemingly left his body. He sets the remote down and glances worriedly at his friend.

“Seph…? You okay, bud?”

Sephiroth doesn’t respond for several beats. He can only stare at the paused screen, silent, unable to tear his gaze away from the frozen frame before him. Unable to look away from the snapshot of roaring flames, of a village trapped in the famished talons of fire and smoke and burning wood.

Of a mother panda, running away, about to be mercilessly slaughtered by the command of a madman.

“How could… anyone… do this?”

Zack pauses for a moment, saddened by his friend’s saddened voice, and taken aback by how genuinely struck Seph was by Shen’s attack on the panda village. He considers joking, chuckling—perhaps saying something about the history of evil peacocks. But he doesn’t. It doesn’t feel right. Instead, he just scoots closer to his friend.

“I dunno, bud. When bad people, y’know, when they want something… they do bad things.”

There’s another beat, another reign of silence. And the next set of words slash Sephiroth’s throat as they leave it.

“He… the bird…” The syllables are jagged, taut. “He killed his…”

Sephiroth doesn’t need to finish the sentence for Zack to understand it. To understand everything. And like a tidal wave of acid, the realization of what he has inadvertently subjected his friend to comes toxically crashing down on him.

Zack’s gaze darts between the screen and Seph. “Oh my god… buddy… what is wrong with—Gaia, I’m so sorry….!”

He wraps his arm around his wounded friend, kicking himself a thousand times for his insensitivity and blindness. Out of all the movies they could have chosen….

Sephiroth dips his chin, resting it on Zack’s hair, a momentary relief from the horror portrayed on his screen. Never did he expect to be struck so viscerally by one of his friend’s favorite films. Never did he expect to be at a loss for words amid their playful banter and commentary. Never did he expect an innocuous, colorful, loving movie to be a mere veneer for something much darker.

“ I know…. I know this prolly hurts real bad…” Zack solaces, continuing to hug his pal. “I promised to never…. I’m sorry, Seph…. Gaia I’m sorry… We can stop now, if you want, maybe play a game inste—“

“….Wutai.”

Zack blinks, confused by the sudden shift.

“….Wutai?” he echoes puzzledly.

Sephiroth’s eyes strain, his muscles stiffening. “I… I’ve done this…” he admits bitterly, painfully, like the words scraped against his tongue in serrated, poisonous blades. “In Wutai… I’ve razed villages. Killed countless. I… I probably have slaughtered a child’s…” He struggles to finish that sentence, the brutal scene from the movie still raw in his mind.

“I… I am like Shen.”

Zack’s heart twists, a full jagged knot tethering in his chest as he digests Seph’s words—the pain, the guilt, the self-loathing… He shakes his head, pulling back slightly from the embrace.

“That’s not true,” he says firmly, kindly. “That’s not true, bud.”

Sephiroth opens his eyes, ready to protest. “I… I’ve razed…”

“it was a war, Seph… you know that. I know you do. ShinRa ordered for those villages to be burned. From what I can tell—and learned… you didn’t have a choice.”

Sephiroth closes his eyes again, riding too many turbulent memories and emotions to think of a proper response. Zack returns his head to Seph’s shoulder.

“You would never do what Shen did, bud…” Zack says quietly. “You would never kill out of hate. I know you wouldn’t.”

For a long swath of time, Sephiroth remains locked in the other’s arms, silent, listening to the unwavering sincerity of his best friend’s words. Letting them sink into him, letting them assuage him. Gauze him. Heal him. He sinks deeper into the embrace, clinging to Zack’s heartfelt hope in him. To his trust. To his beliefs.

And there he makes a vow to never prove Zack wrong.

KUNG FU PANDA 2 SAVES NIBELHEIM, Y’ALL!!!!

[craykaycee]

AAaaaaaandd another friend had their birthday! This was a blast to work on (albeit in a rush for the deadline xD)

This is of our two self insert oc's for FNaF where my friend is an animatronic of the toy generation from FNaF2 of a red panda and I am a security guard at the FNaF2 location. The dynamic is a curious animatronic who's smile is perhaps a touch too wide and toothy taking interest in the new security guard who has to deal with its shenanigans xD I also have a writing in the works to compliment this piece :3

[grigori77]

Once again, to celebrate this awesome day, I thought I'd give another shout-out to some more of those wonderful ladies that I alove and admire, both those who hve inspired me for a while now, and those that I just recently discovered ...

IMAN VELLANI. Oh my sweet girl! :3 Exploding onto the scene thanks to the recent acclaimed hit/fan favourite that was the Disney/Marvel Ms. Marvel streaming show, the most adorable geek girl in ALL THE WORLD really got a major, much deserved profile boost (regardless of the problems) thanks to her co-starring return to the role of super-popular young Marvel superhero Kamala Khan in The Marvels. She's a genuine absolute SWEETHEART and she deserves all the success that's surely coming to her.

GIDEON NAV & HARROWHARK NONAGESIMUS. Yup, I have FINALLY gotten round to reading Tamsyn Muir's ridiculously popular sci-fi fntasy novel series The Locked Tomb! It's still early days, I'm only on Gideon the Ninth, but I am ALREADY falling head over heels in love with the story's central duo, the reluctant warrior Gideon, a snarky oversized golden retriever of a woman, and her "hated" charge, Harrow, the scheming, overly-ambitious scion to an ancient clan of intergalactic necromancers, who's a metaphorical vicious little soaked ferret. I love them, they're so adorably dysfunctional ...

AWKWAFINA. For me, one of the funniest people around, this musician, comedian and actress deserves every ounce of success she's earned for herself. I mostly know her for her acting, having been a fan ever since she was in Ocean's 8, since showing up in a raft of great roles in the likes of Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings, Raya & the Last Dragon, Crazy Rich Asians and Swan Song, although she's REALLY hitting her stride now, showing up in REALLY BIG stuff like Renfield, Quiz L\ady and, now, the incoming (and long-awaited) Kung Fu Panda 4.

TATIANA SUAREZ. Perhaps the most incredible sportswoman I have come across in a good long while, this one is a TRUE INSPIRATION REVELATION. A strong up-and-coming contender for UFC World Champion, she's been through SO MUCH in her life to get where she is now, having had her teenage dreams of being an Olympic Gold Medal wrestler dashed after an accident during training led to the discovery of a burgeoning case of thyroid cancer. Fighting off the condition, she then fought her way back after embracing judo and then mixed martial arts, before AGAIN suffering a debilitating neck injury which NEARLY ended her sporting career again, forcing her to take another long-term hiatus to get back into fighting shape ... just as COVID hit. Now she's back again, fighting fit and better than ever, hungry for that next chance and looking like she's definitely gonna get it this time ...

SINEAD O'CONNOR. The last 13 months have been really tough, we've had to say goodbye to some truly wonderful people, but one in particular REALLY HURT. The music industry lost a true GEM with the passing of this genuine GODDESS, the Irish singer-songwriter best known for her INSANELY popular cover of Prince's Nothing Compares 2 U, although those in the know recognise that she was ONE HELL of a force nature in her own right, courting controversy throughout her career for her outspoken religious and political views. She NEVER backed down on what she believed, and earned my undying respect and admiration for it.

FLORENCE PUGH. A completely amazing young actress who's had a trily ASTOUNDING rise to fame in recent years, I've be a fan of Flo's ever since she broke out in a MASSIVE WAY in the twisted psychological drama Lady Macbeth. She's blown us all away since, lighting up the screen in the likes of midsommar, Don't Worry Darling, Oppenheimer and, now, Dune, Part Two, but now, for me she will ALWAYS be Yelena Belova, the true successor to the MCU's Black Widow mantle.

MIZU. One of my favourite female characters of the past year (although I'm sure she would balk at actually bringing up her gender), the titular lead protagonist of Netflix' wild runaway success new animated series Blue Eye Samurai is a genuinely fascinating and intoxivating character, who prompts profound debate about gender roles and personal identity while kicking arse in SPECTACULAR FASHION indeed in feudal Japan.

TEYONAH PARRIS. Definitely one of THE MOST AMAZING African American actresses coming up right now, this young lady is definitely earning her breakout star status. Having come up through sterling turns in the likes of Dear White People, Chi-Raq, If Beale Street Could Talk and Candyman, before finally making good on all that promise with high profile lead turns in THey Cloned Tyrone and her ongoing role as MCU superhero MOnica Rambeau/Photon in Wandavision and The Marvels.

BILLIE EILISH. What do I REALLY need to say about one of the most popular and astoundingly unique musical artists of the moment? Ever since her breakthrough at just THIRTEEN YEARS OLD with her wildly successful first single, Ocean Eyes, which became a massive runaway smash on Youtube, this incredibly talented young singer songwriter has consistently impressed with ever release, entirely deserving her immense success with an amazing debut EP and two subsequently BRILLIANT albums. She keeps going from strength to strength, and at just 22 years old is only just BEGINNING what's sure to be a MONSTER of a career ...

KITTY O'NEIL. A true legend in cinema, even though most of us have NEVER actually seen her face, this little lady was one of the GREATEST stuntwomen and racers of all time, and a MASSIVE inspiration throughout her life as well. Despite going deaf due to illness during childhood, Kitty still went on to become a record-breaking racing driver and professional stunt performer, probably best known for having doubled Linda Cart in Wonder Woman and Lyndsey Wagner in The Bionic Woman. It's a genuine mystery why Hollywood hasn't made a biopic about her yet ...

HOLGA KILGORE. Probably my ABSOLUTE favourite fictional female protagonist of 2023, the badass barbarian lady from Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves was a pure, unapologetic JOY, thanks in no small part to a wonderfully game turn from Michelle Rodriguez. Holga's just an absolute sweetheart, fully capable of decimating a whole room full of big, dangerous men with her bare hands without ever losing her gentle kindness, simple, honest innocence and unswerving loyalty. TRULY the MVP warrior tank any adventuring party wants in their corner ...

SIOUXSIE SIOUX. Truly one of alternative rock's true, all time GOATs, the lead singer of one of goth's greatest and most important bands, Siouxsie & the Banshees, is a singular master of haunting, ethereal vocals and a genuine style ICON who lent her look and manner to a whole GENERATION of scary young women ...

SABINE WREN & SHIN HATI. While my favourite Star Wars offering of 2023, the opening season of the Ahsoka series, was, all round, just SO GREAT for me, there was one particular element that just stuck with me above ANYTHING ELSE - the season-long rivalry between Ahsoka's troubled Mndalorian apprentice Sabine and Dark Jedi student Shin. They raged, continuously tried to kill each other and endlessly traded smouldering looks of hate that bordered on OBSESSION ... all while genuinely SIMMERING with barely restrained sexual tension. They made the whole fandom FERAL, myself includced. #wolfwren indeed ...

BRODY DALLE. And last, but BY NO MEANS LEAST, a little more personal self-indulgience ith one of my greatest rock-fan super crushes, namely the awesome Aussie lead singer/guitarist of supercool punk bands the Distillers and Spinnerette. Still rocking her iconic status to this day, she remains a genuine inspiration ...

[gildasfantasy]

Id really like to credit my friend panda for helping me out on editing my story because they noticed mistakes I made <3 besides I'd like to have new ideas so it you guys want me to do something new like, new ships or share your plot ideas it'd be great !! I do oc/yn X any character from any show and game and fluff+nsfw+angst ect!!

First times in a relationship's can be scary especially if everytime you've had sexual contact, it wasn't filled with love you so desperately craved

Husk and angel had formed a friendship after their bonding near the bar that night, it was clear to everyone that there was more than friendship between the two and after awhile they made their attraction be known and a loving relationship blossomed between them but they promised to never let this relationship out the hotel to reach the ears of Valentino, angels boss. Many months has passed since they made it official and they found themselves at the 8 month mark, husk being the awkward romantic he is, he wanted it to be something immensely special for angel just to show how much he genuinely loved him.. Husk examined the stores down the pathways of the somewhat busy area but no matter how hard he searched all he could find was bondage stores, lingerie stores ect; and he didn't want that, he didn't want angel to think he was just like all the rest of the men he had to deal with and additionally, husk wasn't a big.. sex fiend.. sure he got urges but he had boundaries and the thought of leather wear and overly threatening sex felt disgusting to him, so he despised these types of stores..eventually after a long day of trying to search he sighed, he'd been to every ring, even the lust ring, but still he hasn't found what he felt was right for angel, what was he supposed to get for someone that gorgeous? He was down on his luck til he heard two strangers talking down the sidewalk as if they were married and raised his head to look at the imps. One imp had black hair, 'a girl' he noted absent-mindedly, and the other imp had white hair, 'a guy'." 'excuse me? Sorry, I don't mean to listen in on you folks but am I right to assume you're both..?" "Together? Yea we're married' the white haired imp spoke, his voice kind of scratchy that made husks ears twitch ever so slightly, 'great! I need help, me and my boyfriends 8 month mark is comin' up and I can't find anything romantic.. everywhere I look it's just.. sex novels or over-the-top sexual stores.'

The black haired imp girl spoke excitedly, her southern accent bounced off of her husband's demeanor like a bouncy-ball on a whiteboard "Well hi thereee! You're alright to ask, sugar —"

"I'd suggest checkin' out LooLoo Land stores! Even though its a theme park they have the gosh darnedest cutest things, my mox got me a thang from there!' 'christ' husk thought to himself, already he formed a headache solely because of her loud voice but despite it, he thanked her, she was kind enough to help "thanks" *his deep voice grumbled but his expression was as if he were genuinely trying to force an awkward smile and eventually they changed paths and husk found himself on the way to the infamous looloo land, loud blaring music and the sound of kids screaming and crying made husk furrow his brows and groan but it was worth it to find something angel could love..perhaps after an hour of searching he found it.. a stand filled with stuffed animals and one caught his eye immediately.. a white bear with crossed out red eyes stitched in along with round red cheeks at each side of its smile,

he knew it'd be beyond perfect for his angel and he threw a coin at the stand-man, a determined look plastered on his face. Husk picked up the toy-gun and shot water at the wooden stands. No matter the amount of times he hit them though, the standman rigged the game and after draining his coin pocket dry, Husk had enough and tackled the man. Pulling him close by the collar and holding a sharp claw up to his neck. "Give me the fuckin' bear." He growled, and while he would usually never lose his composure, he was not going to let that bear be dangled in front of him. Feeling the man shudder with a nod, he backed away to let him grab his prize; the bear and his money back in full. He loved it, the texture of the bear and the way it felt on his fur made him know Angel would adore it. A proud look made its way to his face subtly and he walked out of the park happily, believing that to be enough from LooLoo land today. he deserved everything. Angel deserved the universe, in Husk's eyes and as he walked, he found his eyes gravitating towards a jumper on the way back home. It was beautiful; the jumper was white with flowers trailing up the sleeves in pink stitching and a heart cutout on the chest and on the back. It looked as if it was made for Angel, with a lighter wallet and a newfound bag in his claws, along with a bouquet of Devil-Eye flowers (Mammon Special!) he made his way back home. Husk smiled as he walked through those hotel doors and stood in front of sir pentiouses big portrait on the wall and sighed. "Wish me luck, buddy." he muttered as he made his way to the second floor of the hotel and faced the door of Angel's room, staring at the picture of his boyfriend and their friends. It made Husk's heart melt and his fur grow hot at the beauty of Angel. with courage that took a few minutes to tame, he twisted the doorknob and opened it to see his Angel sitting with a book in his top hands. He cleared his throat lowly and watched as Angel perked up and smiled, "Whiska's! Ya made it!" he said In disbelief

lord, Angel adored husk more than afterlife itself

He knew Husk was genuine, but a part of him still doubted he'd show up for their 8th month. He was pleasingly surprised to be wrong as he pecked both sides of Husk's face and massaged his fingers into his cheek fluff and slid them up to scratch behind his ears; causing Husk to purr and melt lovingly into his touch and for his leg to ever so slightly start thumping "ah what's this then husky, this fa' mee?" Angel said teasingly, his tone joking to ready himself to be wrong. Angel couldn't believe it, he nervously took the gifts and smiled at the bouquet 'husk' he spoke 'i don't know what ta' say..' his voice seemed much softer as he sat down in his bed, the silk curtains draped up and the pink lighting above set such a pretty tone to the scene.. he placed the flowers down against his bedside table before taking a look at the jumper, sliding straight into it and it fit so perfectly. Husk could barely believe his eyes, all four arms fit so perfectly and angel suited it so well, it made husk feel hot N heavy, his cheeks slightly pink tinted 'i knew you'd like it ange' " he smiled softly just before angels tears slipped, his hand covering one side of his face to wipe his tears.. husk didn't know how to respond, 'aye what's wrong ange'.. do you not like it? I can take it bac-" "no!- no I love it I just.. didn't.. expect it' he admitted with a smile.. the two of his arms connected to his waist wrapped around himself like a self hug.. his heart was racing and in that moment husk was the only one he cared for, the only one he ever wanted to be with and die with.. he placed a kiss against husks lips, but it was soft, like their lips had barley even touched.. and before he could respond again he made contact with the bear husk had 'won' for him and got ecstatic "huska' it looks like me' awh you big-' he immediately wrapped his arms around husk and buried his cheek into his head, his fingertips stroking his cheek.. Husk laughed and held angels back to pull him closer, like this hug wasn't enough contact for him.. in the moment it's like a piece of a puzzle finally clicked and he took a deep breath, pulling away and holding one of angels hand 'i.. want.. you to know I'm ready' he smiled and this confused angel, 'ready fa' what huskie..' he responded like his heart dropped to his stomach 'to be intimate with you' he whispered, his eyes drifting up to meet angels gaze 'oh.. huska' don't force ya'self for lil ol' me.. I can wai-" "no, I want this.. I want you but I don't know.. what, I'm doing.. I'm scared I'll embarrass myself y'know' he sighed as he traced his fingers through his hair to push it back, a huff leaving his lips and his eyelashes fluttering shut to avoid angels stare 'aright then but.. I.. can help, we all start somewhere yaknow?'

It'd been awhile since husk had been intimate with anyone, the last time he did he was alive and walking earth, but this felt so different because he WANTED to be perfect for angel.. so he smiled and took his boyfriends hands, and kissing him, a passionate, gentle kiss that burned straight through with not just love but lust too, for once angel felt genuinely... Turned on by the thought of sex and he slowly shuffled down, propping himself up on his bottom elbows while his other arms hoisted around husks neck, the dim room only lit by the pink lighting above angels bed had made it feel so much more perfect, husk, being the nervous guy he was didn't know where to touch him so instinctively he moved his hands up to hold angels chest fluff and immediately angel pushed back, panting with only drool stringing their lips together, 'shit, I'm sorry' husk said immediately before angel shook his eyes, eyes wide and breath heavy 'nono, husk it's okay I just want expecting it, it's hard to..' husk frowned and lay flat against angel, his head against his chest fluff 'we don't have to do this ange' trust me I'm not a sex-maniac, I'll wait til you can feel safer with this whole thing' he spoke reassuringly, his hands moving up to hold angels cheeks, swirling his thumb just under his eye 'husk, it's fine, I want this but it's hard to.. know what people are gonna do when all I've ever been through was abuse and unconsenting touchy sex yaknow..' 'yea I know sweetheart' husk lifted himself up a little, angels legs around his waist as he peppered soft kisses down his neck towards his arms 'ill be gentle with you my love.. let me show you what love is, trust me, all I ever want to make you feel is my love'

And with that angel smiled and nodded, his head slowly cocking back as a sign of angel giving himself over to husk, at this point they could hear their own heartbeats as well as each others heartbeat, the sensuality raising the heat through the roof as husk slipped off angels shorts..his hand sliding down his hips and down his v-line til eventually he found himself grasping at angels cock, slowly moving his hand in a up and down motion while undressing himself, angels moans felt like music to his ears, knowing he was capable of actually making angel feel good sent knots of love and lust into his gut and he craved so much more..

but at the same time, watching angels face, his brows furrow and his mouth agape, his pretty waist jolting up and his hips bucking into husks touch as if he wanted more friction, god he looked gorgeous like that and husk let his desires take control. He pulled his hand away and slid his arms under angels back with his palms behind angels head, fingers interlocked into his hair before finding himself entering angels hole, a groan leaving his lips while angel wrapped his arms around husk, their bodies close enough to make the heat somehow hotter, angel seemed to grip onto husks fur and pull like he needed even closer so husk obliged and pushed himself up against angel, his head buried in his chest fluff and loud purrs alongside moans escaped his lips, he was quite the sensitive man, not very aggressive dominant, and angel adored it, The shockwaves of love being pumped into angel overwhelmed him, when it was more loving, it just felt better to angel, he let this pleasure be known via his whimpers, moans, cries, whispered begs for more, not just that but his body reacted so strangely.. his legs twitched and perked up sometimes and his hips arched upwards, the spiders hands gently stretching behind husks ears 'good kitty' angel whispered 'fuck, my god' hmmnph.." be cried out quietly all the while husk slowly thrusted into angel, his dick twitching inside angel causing a reaction from both of them, husker tightened his hug like grip on angel, holding him closely 'i love you, i love you, god.. i love you angie..' he moaned in chants, his hips bucking and his hands squeezing his hair, gently tugging at it as he opened his mouth, drooling a little as he did so.

Angel let his head fall back and succumbed to husks movements and words, his eyes slowly drifting backwards and eventually his moans became so loud that they clogged his throat sometimes, he was choking on his own pleasure.. his legs squeezing around husks waist and his hands unable to comprehend where to hold next. He wanted all of husk so he tried to speak through his moans despite the struggle 'i love ya.. t..oo..gh..whiskas" he whined out just as he felt himself release on his own chest..his hand moving up to cover his mouth and muffle his pretty moans.. and the sight of that to husk sent electricity down his guts, and almost like a wild animal, his last thrusts became power filled and he moved his arms from under angel, he found himself squeezing under angels thighs while also lifting them up a little, and let himself vunerabalise, his semen filling angel quickly. He forgot how good it felt to be intimate like that with someone and it was enough to make them both moan while hugging at eachother tightly.. the relaxation setting in while they gently rode their high out together "Christ" husk huffed through a chuckle, slowly pulling away from angel and sitting up, his eyes focusing on the quite red and lovely spider Infront of him.. he finally faced his fear and he did it, he let himself be that vulnerable with someone, "You ain't gonna leave are ya?' angel said almost nervously, despite his broken speaking and loud breathing, there was a sense of seriousness and scarseness to it 'what? No, no, baby, I'm just gonna get ya something to eat.. I ain't gonna just have sex with ya and not treat ya like a prince after' he reassured while standing up, sliding on a dark red robe he left behind the last time he went to angels, a smile forming from ear to ear that made angel feel easy 'ya really doin' that fa' me?' he spoke back as he pulled up the silk bedsheets, not taking his eyes of husk the entire time.

'of course ange, sweetheart, you deserve it' husk responded while leaning in and laying a kiss on angels forehead

[deathxwalkerxx]

Finding Home

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mental Abuse, Physical Abuse, Anxiety.

Summary: You’ve been abused for most of your life, by the person you trusted the most in this world. Until two women come and take you from there.

A/N: Do I still not have WandaNat gifs? I do not. I know, panda’s, I know. I am terrible at this. Also am terrible at Summary’s all of a sudden. Boo me. 

Chapter 1

Throughout your life you always had been told that you were nothing. Even your family made you feel that way. You worked hard in school because you wanted to get out of the place that you were in. Even managed to change your name. Life was going good for you. You wanted a better life than what you had been offered, wanted to even get yourself some friends that wouldn’t drag you through the mud like your family had done. You met your girlfriend while you were both in college. Everything was going amazingly. She was really sweet to you, even shouted you out for dinner, and helped you when you needed to study. She helped you change your major because she thought you could do something less stressful, and more relaxing. Of course you wanted to follow your dreams, but she made some good points. Plus she was the only one that truly cared for you so why wouldn’t you take her advice? You always wondered what she saw in you.  Wasn’t like you had many people lining up to get to know you and spend time with you, and asking you out. Not to mention everyone that you knew just didn’t think of you at all. 

You could stand in a crowded room and no one would notice that you were there. Sometimes you’d even think your special power was that you could make anyone around you believe that you weren’t there, like being invisible, but no one would be able to bump into you and find out that you were still there. Of course you weren’t cool like superheroes, you didn’t get a superhero ability. You were just some loser that people didn’t care about, that people didn’t want to know. So what made her want to know you? You weren’t sure. But she invited you out to the parties that she was invited to. Now you didn’t like parties, you didn’t see the point in getting drunk that you were regretting it tomorrow. Or making a complete fool of yourself. Perhaps this was why people didn’t like you. You were too closed off, too in control of yourself that people thought you didn’t know how to have fun. You made jokes though, and you were comfortable with just making a fool of yourself for her. Until she told you enough, and then you stopped making jokes around her. You stopped doing a lot of things due to upsetting her. You didn’t know when she became so violent, or even angry but you figured it was you.

You were what upset her, you could tell by the way she just looked at you from across the room and you could see the anger in her face. Yet there were days where she absolutely loved you, where your relationship just felt normal like the good ole days where you both laid on the couch laughing with each other and sharing stories. The rooms were brighter back then, full of light, and warmth. That all changed though, and you can’t pinpoint the moment that it all changed, you can’t pinpoint when she had changed, you just know things were getting rather cold and dark. She’d come home, with alcohol in her system though she wasn’t drunk. She didn’t want you to use that against her. Not that you’d use anything against her. She was the only person that truly loved you, who truly saw you for who you were, and you didn’t want to push her away, you didn’t want her to leave you. 

So you did everything that you could to make her happy. You made sure that the food was prepared for when she got home, and if she got home late, you’d be there to warm it up for her, while also making sure she had a fresh pot of coffee, or a beer depending on what she wanted. You were afraid to speak to her, so you waited to see if she’d start a conversation, but that just ended up with her arguing with you of course. You apologized to her profusely, letting her know that you’d never do it again, you promised that you’d make sure to do better, and you did. You didn’t watch any shows that you wanted to watch. She ruled the place and you allowed it to happen. Hey, it was better than getting a fist to the ribs, that was for sure. Sad thing was, you didn’t even know about the mental abuse she was putting you through. All you could think about was the physical. One day she came home and told you that you should stop working, because she wanted this place to be looked after. It was her place after all, despite the fact all your money went into it. You now had no money to your name, nothing. Everything that you had paid for went into her name. 

It was better that way she told you. Since you were no longer working, if things went south you would lose everything. It was better in her name and you couldn’t find it in you to argue with her. You were getting tired, exhausted. You barely slept, because you were worried that the house wasn’t cleaned enough, so you spent a lot of your time making sure it was so spotless that there wasn’t even a single spec of dust on anything. You couldn’t even count how many times you cooked her food until you were sure that you’d made it to perfection. Of course she did all the shopping, so it was always her favorite food that she brought, it was her favorite dishes that you made. She went out, and you stayed in. Your friends stopped messaging once you stopped answering. You were tired of always shutting them down, telling them you can’t go out, making up some excuse. It made her mad when you’d go out with your friends.

Though it was her decision, she’d tell you to go hang out with them and you’d go, but when you came home she would get pissed. It was like a game, and you failed every time she played it. If you told her you were fine staying home with her, she’d give you the cold shoulder, and you couldn’t fathom what you’d done. Considering you had done as she asked, you went out and enjoyed yourself like she had asked, but she wasn’t happy about it. You didn’t understand, and you were afraid to ask her what was wrong. So you stopped. You stayed at home, cooked her a meal, sometimes she wasn’t home to eat it, sometimes she would be. Then the dinners weren’t good enough for her, her beer wasn’t cold enough, her coffee wasn’t hot enough, you hogged the covers so much that she moved you to the spareroom. You weren’t to come out until she had gone, and you were to be back in that room before she got back.

The hitting got worse, she no longer cared about where she hit you, because you were never going out, you were never leaving this damn place. You were trapped here, unable to leave. It made you wonder if you should just finish yourself off for her, if that would make her happy. Not that it would matter, because you wouldn’t be here. You were only still a young woman while you were going through this, and you had no one else. You thought she cared for you, thought she loved you, but that was a lie. All of this was a lie. Every night when you laid in bed, you screamed inside of your head, begging someone to come save you. Little did you know, one night someone heard you.

Wanda never took this route back to her place. But lately every night when she was trying to drift off to sleep she just got a nagging feeling and every night she would wander out trying to find what was nagging at her, but coming up empty. She would always take a different route hoping that somehow she would find that nagging feeling that kept her up at night. Every time that Wanda thought she was getting close, those thoughts would vanish and she was left standing in the street hoping that she could hear them.  But she couldn’t. So she would go back home, explain to Natasha where she’d been, though the redhead knew where Wanda was, because it was the same night every night, and Natasha wished that she could help her, but she couldn’t read minds. 

Then one night Wanda woke in a panic, screaming that she had woken up Natasha while the ex assassin was asleep. She cradled Wanda pressing a kiss to her head doing her best to calm the witch down. Wanda was quick to get herself dressed, pulling herself out of bed, with Natasha in tow. The ex assassin wasn’t going to leave Wanda to do this by herself. The both of them make their way back to the same spot Wanda had found herself standing in front of. Though now the thoughts were rather loud, and Wanda knew where they were coming from. Her eyes looked to Natasha now, her hand tightening in her wife’s hand. “Nat.” Her voice was quivering as she continued to listen in on these thoughts. “Let’s go.” Natasha says to her now, not even questioning Wanda.

Something had shaken her wife, and Natasha would do anything to make sure that she was feeling better, that whatever was keeping her up at night, would be here for them to solve it. Wanda took to the skies with her wife’s hand in her own, landing on one of the balconies, and as she got there, she was shivering like she was cold, that had Natasha making quick work on pick locking the sliding door open. It was dark when they got into the place, and if Natasha had to admit it a little creepy. It was too quiet, there were no sounds going on around them, the place almost looked like no one lived in it. It was spotless, no dishes in the sink, even the tv had no spots on it. Again it was a little creepy. Though she kept close to Wanda who was wandering down the hall to the furthest room in the place. Natasha paused her steps to look into the room that they had passed, and she could see that someone had been living it in.

It was a mess, a lot more messier than the rooms they had stepped into beforehand. Natasha didn’t think the person that was occupying this room was the one that had been cleaning up the place. You couldn’t see the floor of the room, it was that messy. It had Natasha scrunching up her nose at the sight of it, not understanding how anyone could have a room like this. She was pulled out of her thoughts when She heard Wanda gasping and she made her way toward her. She could see that Wanda had the door cracked open slightly and was peering into the room.

What Wanda could see was you laying in your bed unmoving. Granted you were breathing, and she could hear your thoughts which let her know you were still alive. They quietly wandered into the room, and Wanda could see the casts that were on your arm and leg, she could feel how pain you were in. Natasha could see it by the grimace that was on your face. Wanda was kneeling down in front of you now, fingers brushing damp curls out of your face, and her heart broke when you were whimpering out a soft ‘no’, which had her backing up a little. “We need to get her out of here.” Natasha now says before she was bending down to pick you up and cradle you in her arms. 

Wanda adored Natasha so much that she wasn’t questioning her wife as they moved toward the balcony once more, and took to the night sky. Wanda’s magic kept Natasha close to her as they flew back to the compound, a place that they both had come to love and couldn’t see themselves leaving any time soon. Natasha took you to their room and placed you down on the bed softly, keeping you above the covers of course, so they could examine your wounds. “Who the hell did this?” Natasha questions while Wanda was shaking her head, checking your own for the moment, seeing the purple blush that was appearing on your skin, an indication that you had been hit previously. “She’s going to need some antibiotics, and better casts than this. I think they’re handmade.” Wanda says as she was studying the rags over your arm and leg. 

She knew that these needed to go, and so she was unwrapping them, seeing the bruises under your skin on your arm, seeing the way it was bent the wrong way. “We’re going to have to reset these.” Natasha says as she examines them. “Is that going to hurt her?” Wanda asks, her head turning to look at her wife who was nodding her head, though Wanda could see that she didn’t want to do that. “We might need to get painkillers for her then, to help knock her out.” Wanda says as she gets up to move out of the room and down to the medical bay so she could find the medicine that she would need to give you, before making her way back to her quarters that she shared with her wife. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.

[st-juliet]

Utmost Merit, Part I

Fandom: Henry Cavill as Sherlock in Enola Holmes

Summary: Sherlock presents the Reader with a most unconventional proposal.

Content: For this first chapter, 18+ for suggestive language, sensual tension, and frank discussion of a hypothetical pregnancy.

Notes: I prefer giving a name to the Reader rather than using Y/N, but I hope you will make the appropriate substitutes in your imagination. Your kind comments and reblogs are so, so appreciated…please don’t hesitate to reply or send me a message with your feedback if you enjoy! I’m especially grateful to @a-panda-doll , @donutloverxo , @ghotifishreads , @inlovewithhisblueeyes , and our Lord and Savior @littlefreya​ for giving such kind, expressive feedback on my previous tales!

“I am very much obliged to you for seeing me, Miss Marlow.”

“Of course; you are very welcome, Mr. Holmes. My brother is in his study with the solicitor and shows no signs of resurfacing—perhaps I might offer you tea while you wait?”

“It in fact is you whom I wished to see. Privately, if you will permit the liberty.”

You had never before entertained Sherlock Holmes at your family’s London home, let alone privately; until today you had only seen him socially, when he could be seen at all, hovering about the fringes of a well-heeled client’s ball or examining the flowers with more interest than the guests at a garden party. The few times you had spoken, generally in the presence of your respective elder brothers, he had proved amiable, in a reserved, thoughtful sort of way, with the occasional glint of good humor shining through. But he was not one of your regular circle of friends, and you could only assume it must be some sensitive matter that brought him here—one of his cases involved someone you knew, perhaps—and you obligingly escorted him to the drawing room, hoping the matter was only delicate, rather than dire.

“I am at your service,” you say him, pouring a cup for each of you. “Sugar?”

“Just cream, thank you.”

“Of course. What brings you here, sir?”

“I would like to ask you to be my wife.”

Well.

This is most interesting indeed.

“You are a man wholly devoted to your vocation, Mr. Holmes,” you respond carefully, managing your expression into one a little less surprised than you feel in order to match his calm demeanor. “And one often referred to as ‘a confirmed bachelor’. May I ask why now, in particular, you find yourself desirous of a wife?”

“I do not, particularly,” he answers honestly, and though his words are somewhat severe, his tone is very gentle. “I am not a romantic in search of love, nor do I feel it necessary to conform to a particular mold or custom society may define as necessary or desirable for a man of my station. But—I hope you will forgive me my candor, Miss Marlow—I have lately realized that I very much wish to have a child. Or children. Whatever your—forgive me; I am too bold. Whatever my wife’s preference might prove. It is not so much a legacy I look for as…an opportunity. There are few honors in the world greater than to raise a child…and as I seek to bring a greater share of justice and peace into this world…well, this might be one means by which I might do so, if I can nurture a child to hold those same values as sacred.

He pauses for breath at the end of this eloquent speech, looking almost surprised to have revealed such a personal sentiment. But your immediate smile seems to comfort him, and you can tell he is hoping for a response, which you are all too happy to offer:

“I have always thought that, if one can raise a little human being in love and respect, and teach them how to give their best to others, it is a tremendous service one can render unto the world. You are to be commended, sir, for not seeing it simply as your right, but as your responsibility.”

“Quite so. I am happy to find we are in such perfect accordance,” he responds, a look of hopeful expectance now gracing his features.

“May I ask you another question, sir?”

“You may ask me as many as you wish.”

“Thank you. I think it not out of turn to say you do not want for feminine attention, sir, so…why me?”

“An excellent question. I have chosen you as my ideal match based upon three merits: you walk several miles around London every morning, you have many friends, and your younger brother is an excellent pianist.”

“You make a refreshing case for yourself, Mr. Holmes!” you laugh, charmed by his bluntness, and wildly curious to know more. His reasoning was novel indeed, and this was not the first time you had received an offer of marriage, though it was the first time someone had approached you directly. Previous attempts to hazard for your hand had first faced, and been turned away by, your elder brother, and for good reason. “Most would list the substantial inheritance left me by my parents in all three places of merit.”

“The money is of no consequence to me, I assure you,” he scoffs with a dismissive gesture, as if he were grievously offended by the very notion. “If you wish for a copy of my bank slip to demonstrate that my finances are entirely in order, and more than ample enough to provide for yourself and our family in the comfort you are deservedly accustomed to, allow me to—“

“Oh, no, no—I believe you!” you assure him, unable to resist a smile at his earnest indignation. “What about these particular qualities of mine have seized you into so violent a passion?”

He starts to answer out of polite instinct, then catches himself and looks at you askance.

“Are you making fun of me, Miss Marlow?”

“Only a little. Please, forgive me. I am more gratified by your honesty and plainness than any feigned fit of infatuation…as well as quite curious.”

“Another quality to recommend you.” He nods approvingly. “As to the initial three, your walks are a testament to your health and heartiness; I have every hope that we would be blessed with a strong, healthy child, borne without undue peril to either of you. The second merit—your many friends—I confess say appeals to me selfishly. I am not a sociable, or oftentimes even an agreeable, man, and do not always converse comfortably or on subjects of interest to anyone save myself. I would hate to disappoint a woman who hoped to be kept entertained by someone more charming, but what I cannot offer in way of easy companionship you have the full measure of already in your friends.”

“I do, indeed. What you call selfish, I call self-knowledge, and what is more considerate to someone with whom you choose to share a life.”

“A wise observation. And perhaps we should not find one another’s company completely intolerable, on occasion.” This with a smile of his own. “But finally, as to your accomplished brother, I am myself a musician given to practice at all hours, but especially very late at night. Something similar must be required of anyone at your brother’s level of proficiency and artistry, therefore I’ll wager you could sleep through my own nocturnal etudes without aggravation.”

“You are entirely correct; I haven’t heard him practice in years! But we may have to negotiate the midnight cadenzas once the baby arrives—oh…”

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, a nearly imperceptible smile quirking up the corner of his mouth.

“I beg your pardon,” you correct yourself frantically, looking away as a furious blush burns across your cheeks. “Now I am too bold.”

You make the mistake of glancing back at him, and find his eyes intently fixed upon you, meeting your gaze with a composed, but clearly intrigued contemplation. For a wild, unfathomable instant, you are seized with a traitorous thought: all the polite conversation in the world cannot summon a child into existence. This man is not asking you only to raise a child with him, but to make one. With all the intimacy that requires.

You have never quite looked at him this way before, but now there is no denying it: Sherlock Holmes is a breathtakingly handsome man. And the very scent of him, masculine and heady, is suddenly as necessary to you as the very air you breathe. What would it be like, you wonder against your sense of propriety, against your sensible nature—what would it be like to lay in his arms, to feel his skin against your as he fills you with his—

“Miss Marlow, what has set your mind awhirl?”

You cannot possibly tell him.

“I…I hope that you have found me in practice to be as meritorious as in theory,” you manage.

“Absolutely,” he affirms. “You confirm my hypotheses one after the other. And, if I may presume, you appear as satisfied with the answers you have received as I am.”

“Very much so, thank you.”

“To conclude, Miss Marlow, while I cannot never promise to be an adoring swain, I intend to be more than a distant provider. My parents’ marriage and their raising of the three of us was unconventional to say the least, but from it I would take the best, and try to fill in the considerable gaps, as a staunch ally to you and dedicated father to our child. If such an arrangement is not to your taste, I would understand perfectly and I will depart with nothing but the utmost respect for you. But if you wish to consider my proposition, please take all the time you wish, and let me know of your decision at your leisure.”

“I will certainly consider it, most thoughtfully.” Yes. Thoughtfully. You have quite recovered your wits. Haven’t you? “And I will say at once that I am very grateful that you have sought me out at such a delicate and critical moment; I have tremendous respect for you, too, sir, and count myself most fortunate that you chose to approach me.”

“Thank you for your time, Miss Marlow.”

“Please, forgo the honorific,” you suggest, offering your hand.

“Then you must call me Sherlock.”

He takes your extended hand eagerly between his. It is not quite a handshake, but nor does he endeavor a kiss…the gesture is neither strictly businesslike nor romantic, much like his proposal. Very apt, you think, and you gently squeeze his fingers before you can stop yourself. Clearly, the sensual tension that sparked moments before has not died away. Not at all. His hands are so large, but somehow graceful, too. A musician’s hands. Tactile. Expressive. A little roughened from playing the strings, just perfect to incite such raptures in your body as would welcome his seed...

“Sherlock,” you breathe.

“Rosamund,” he returns, and with a somewhat knowing smile, he takes care to slide his fingers lightly across your skin as he lightly lets go. It is absolutely the most stirring thing you have ever experienced and now you must somehow let him walk away as if it had never happened.

“Good day.”

“Good day.”

It does not take you very long at all, in the end to consider your answer, and a brief conversation with your brothers later, your find yourself seated at your desk to write:

Dear Sherlock,

I am most delighted and honored to accept your proposal. My brothers support us fully, and we may name the day and proceed with all legal and logistical matters whenever convenient. Perhaps you night dine with us at our home tomorrow to discuss?

Yours, sincerely,

Rosamund Marlow

Thank you for reading! Here’s Part II!

[i-just-like-goats]

Gojo x Fem Reader

Summary: part 2 to the "where Gojo's soulmate is an assassin sent to kill him"

Warnings: none that I can think of

WC: 1.4k

Main Masterlist

"So. How are you finding Jujutsu Tech?"

"And my day's automatically ruined," 

You put down your pen as Gojo dragged a chair to sit next to you. 

"If you must know, the students are, on the whole, well behaved. Kugisaki and Itadori lack focus at times but Fushiguro gives them a look and they're back on track. Despite my first impressions of Panda and Maki, they are both dedicated to Jujutsu sorcery. Inumaki hasn’t given me a strong impression yet, but he's diligent," 

"I asked for how you felt about teaching, not a report on how the students are getting on. I know the students but I don't know you," 

"It should stay that way," 

"So cold. I'm shivering," 

Gojo watched as you gathered up the paper strewn around your desk. 

"Notes on the students? You're thorough aren't you?" 

You made no reply and walked straight to the door. Gojo tugged on the red string attached to your smallest finger, prompting you to turn to him exasperatedly. 

"You know, you could make this whole thing a lot easier and more enjoyable if you loosen up a little and actually form relationships with the people around you. But, knowing you, you'll ignore my advice and carry on the way you always have," 

It was a harsh truth, but you knew it to be true. As much as Gojo got on your nerves, he did have a point. But they'd all end up dying anyway, including you. So trivial matters like friendships mattered not to you. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," 

With a sigh, Gojo rubbed his temples. There really was no convincing you. He'd tried his hardest. He greeted you with a smile every morning, he invited you out to eat with him, he gave you tips, he offered to train with you, but it was all for nought. Nothing he did could change your cold attitude. 

Perhaps it was time for him to give up. 

The next morning, you started your day as usual. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Except for the lack of Gojo's upbeat voice ringing in your ears. Good. He finally got the hint. Now you could enjoy the peace and quiet. 

"Ms Y/N," 

"Yes?" 

"It's been an hour and you've still not come to our lesson," 

"Maki, I don't take your morning lessons. Gojo does," 

"Well he said that you knew you'd be taking over for all lessons today," 

She made it a point to look at Gojo's desk. You stood up and walked over to his desk to see a note informing you that he'd gone on a mission and wouldn't be back for a week. 

"I suppose he did. Let's go. I'll help you with close range combat," 

It never failed to surprise you whenever you fought Maki. A grade 4 sorcerer with her skill? It must be some sort of sick joke. The first time you fought her, you were sure that Gojo was pulling your leg, but her grade 4 status was genuine. 

She adapted well to your attacks and her agility far surpassed yours. You tapped her head with your stick. 

"Much better than yesterday. You're a quick learner, but you've still got a tad too many openings whenever you counter my attacks. Just keep that in mind," 

"Understood," 

"Inumaki there isn't much I can do to help you with your cursed technique, so spar with Maki for now while I think of something as I work with Panda," 

They both gave you a thumbs up and walked off to another section of the grounds to spar. Panda waved at you as he walked over. You nodded in acknowledgement and he smiled back. His smile was cute. You couldn't believe your eyes when Gojo first introduced you to a talking Panda, but you’ve grown to respect him.

"You ready?" 

"Sure am!"

Soon enough your time to teach the first years drew nearer, so you dismissed the second year's, promising Inumaki that you'd work with him tomorrow.

"Hi Ms Y/N!"

Itadori, as usual, greeted you with his usual smile. You found your eyes softening for just a moment. It was nice to be smiled at. You slowly rubbed your pinkie finger, it seemed strangely colder than usual.

"Hello Itadori. Fushiguro. Kugisaki,"

Itadori didn't seem to deflate at all despite your much less enthusiastic reply, much like someone you knew. He still was happily ready to learn from you. As a vessel for the King of Curses, his cheery nature always puzzled you. How could such an upbeat boy have the King of Curses residing in him? These students were special. 

"Thank you for teaching us today!"

"You're welcome Itadori,"

Kugisaki and Fushiguro thanked you much more quietly. They openly stared at your hand.

“What’s wrong with my hand? You've all been staring awfully hard at it”

“You’ve been fiddling with your pinkie finger this whole time,” Kugisaki replied.

Widening your eyes, you hastily separated your hands and dismissed the first years.

7 days passed by quickly, but each day you fiddled more and more with your pinkie. It just kept getting colder.

“Ms Y/N you seem to have developed a habit of playing with your pinkie,” Maki remarked.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,”

You glanced at the first and second years seated in front of you, writing down notes about weak points that you wrote on the board, but quickly settled back into staring out of the window.

“Gojo’s coming back today, so maybe you should stop looking so worried,” Panda said.

“I’m not worried about that blindfolded idiot,”

Everyone in the room excluding you exchanged knowing looks.

“Why do you hate Gojo so much?” Itadori piped up.

“I don’t hate him. I just find him to be insufferable,”

“Is that why you longingly stare into space with a sad face? Do you miss him?”

The whole class gaped at Itadori’s question. It was one thing to subtly hint at the obvious tension between their teachers, but it was out of the question to ever allude to it directly to you.

“It’s ok Ms Y/N, I miss him too!”

You sighed, and simply nodded absentmindedly. Disagreeing with Itadori was a hard thing to do, even for you.

“Don’t you all look glum. I know Y/N’s not as fun as me, but geez you guys look miserable,”

“Gojo!” They all chorused.

In unison, they all stood up to greet him. You smiled softly, and stood up slowly to make your exit and allow them some time with Gojo. A small tug on your pinkie had you stopping momentarily, allowing Gojo to flash a smile at you. Sighing, you shook your head and left the classroom to sit in the staff room. 

It felt warm again.

“Missed me?”

You scowled at Gojo.

“I’m surprised the kids let you go,”

“The kids. They encouraged me to find you,”

Gojo took a step closer to you, making you aware of the fact that you were playing with your pinkie again.

“I missed your scowl, but I wish you would smile some more,”

You parted your lips ready to retort something back, but Gojo had already left. And the cold feeling returned.

"No good morning greeting?"

"Why? Do you miss it?"

"As if,"

Gojo shrugged and you continued to write up your lesson plan. You heard hushed voices whispering outside the classroom door.

"I can hear you, you know. Get to class, Gojo's going to be taking your morning class soon,"

A few feet padded past the door as your students scurried to get to their lesson.

“Hey that tickles you know,”

“What?”

With his signature smile, Gojo gestured to your pinkie then to his own.

“You twiddling with the string gives me a ticklish feeling. Are you perhaps warming up to me?”

“In your dreams,”

And like always, you immediately stopped playing with the string. You felt a tug on your pinkie. It felt cold again. Why was the cold feeling returning?

“I’ll see you later,”

As usual, you made no reply and continued sifting through your papers. 

After what felt like hours of being hunched at your desk, you decided to take a walk to clear your mind. The warm feeling in your pinkie returned, but only slightly. What was going on with the temperature changes? Was it a sign of Gojo’s life dwindling away? No. That couldn’t be it.

He’s the strongest sorcerer in the world.

“Ms Y/N!”

A/N: I hate cliff hangers too, but the fic was getting longer than expected, sorry lol. Part 3 is coming dw :D