#this feels very strange and awkward/exposed/embarrassing to say but oh well

[autogeneity]

i'm glad you resonated with my post

I was honestly wanting to send you an ask but I actually don't know how to express what that post specifically meant to me so just !!! and thank you for, like, your brain as a whole I suppose

[anony-man]

This was a fun drabble that I got to work with my good friend @siberat on creating! Beneath the fic is art they drew for a similar request—please be sure to go give their piece some love!

Link to their post: https://www.tumblr.com/siberat/754384393454370816/hear-me-out-one-of-the-medics-velocity-maybe

Chubformers drabble #67!

Characters: Rodimus & Velocity

Word count: 866

It had been a smooth, uneventful day before the comm came in. Velocity didn't expect anything awful, but a request for her assistance—and hers alone—seemed strange coming from their captain. From someone who skillfully evaded weekly check-ins on a good day, to start the morning off with an outright request for assistance seemed... well, it seemed odd.

There were no hints, no information given to just what exactly she was going to be walking into. He was in his quarters, he'd explained, sounding breathless and ashamed. It wasn't an emergency, per se, but-oh, slag, could she just come and help him? Quickly?

Velocity was certainly worried, but she was also rather curious. A spout of unprofessional thoughts and potentials filled her processor, and she found herself picking up the pace, her faceplates flushing with shame. She needed to focus, not delve into her own personal fantasies. She was on the clock, and Rodimus needed her.

She needed to get there fast, both for Rodimus' sake and her own.

The door to his habsuite was closed, and Velocity gave it a tentative knock before entering. There was a faint sound of a struggle inside, the squeak of pedes against the floor and the creaks of straining furniture accompanying what she believed was—

No, she could not let her mind wander there.

With a deep breath in and a quick internal pep talk, Velocity pushed the door open.

"Rodimus?" she called out, slowly creeping around the berth, alert for any signs of danger.

"Rodimus, are you there? I received your message."

There was no sign of him just yet. Velocity huffed, starting to wonder if this was all just some ridiculous prank on his part. He couldn't have known about her sudden rising interest, but at the same time...

"Rodimus," she called again, making it to the washracks without a single sign of his presence. Too irritated to bother knocking by now, she simply swung the door open. "I'm serious, what's going on? If you're hurt, I—oh!"

All too quickly, Velocity's simmering frustration was replaced with a rush of panic and embarrassment. Too startled to speak, Velocity simply stared with wide optics at the sight that greeted her. Of all the things she could have expected to see... she was certainly in over her helm now.

Rodimus' wide smile and bright optics were overshadowed by the pudge covering his face, and with a chubby servo wielding his shower brush, he waved her inside. He was quite incapacitated, it seemed, with legs spread wide to accommodate a massive hanging belly and chunky everything to match.

Velocity hovered in the doorway for a moment, nervously nibbling at her lower lip as she took in the view. Primus, she was probably quite the sight herself. She could practically feel the heat creeping into her cheeks, and it took everything in her not to fumble over what would have originally been a very awkward start to their interaction.

"Um," she began, hiding her flushed face behind a shaky servo. "I... were you... oh, Primus. What can I do to help?"

"Glad you asked," Rodimus said, a breathless chuckle following the obscene slap of a wet servo against his belly rolls. "What do you say we start down here, then work our way up?"

Velocity gasped, watching in awe as he hefted his upper belly up from his lap, exposing the slick, sweaty mesh underneath. Rodimus seemed unbothered, merely happy to have the help he needed, but Velocity was already counting on this being one of the best days in her career.

"Oh," she stammered again, her bottom lip going raw between her teeth.

It took a good bit of effort to delve into her programming and keep her professionalism separated from the charge building up behind sealed panels, but once Velocity had realized she was just standing in the doorway, ogling the way his frame dwarfed the shower stool he'd planted himself down on, she quickly regained her bearings. Rodimus was still her patient, after all, no matter the circumstances.

Never mind her untimely feelings. His untimely loss of self-sufficiency demanded her attention, and she had to suck up her hesitation and do her job.

Easier said than done, of course.

Velocity cleared her throat and held her helm high, stepping forward. After retrieving the shower brush from painfully chunky fingers, she asked, "How much have you gotten done so far? I'm sure it's, ah... uncomfortable, having all that buildup underneath, but we should make sure that everything is tended to before moving forward."

It must have dawned on him then, because Velocity could almost see the gears turning in his helm. Rodimus let his belly drop, the splash of shower suds and lukewarm water making an absolute awful sound.

"Hard to say," he said, "so... what do you say we give it all a good once over, eh? Make sure everything's nice and squeaky clean?"

Primus have mercy on her spark. Velocity nodded past burning cheeks and a strained smile, shaky servos tentatively reaching out to fondle—no, scrub soft, jiggly mesh.

If she made it out of this with her dignity still intact, it would be a fragging miracle.

***

Art by @siberat! Thanks for reading!!

[siberat]

Hear me out: one of the medics velo/city Maybe being a closeted chubby chaser and Well- struggling to keep their optics off of a pretty hefty rodi/mus 👁️👁️

So, you kind of got a 2 for 1. Me and @mr-miss-anonymous worked together for this. I did some art, they did the story, which is under the cut!

It had been a smooth, uneventful day before the comm came in. Velo/city didn't expect anything awful, but a request for her assistance—and hers alone—seemed strange coming from their captain. From someone who skillfully evaded weekly check-ins on a good day, to start the morning off with an outright request for assistance seemed... well, it seemed odd.

There were no hints, no information given to just what exactly she was going to be walking into. He was in his quarters, he'd explained, sounding breathless and ashamed. It wasn't an emergency, per se, but-oh, slag, could she just come and help him? Quickly?

Velo/city was certainly worried, but she was also rather curious. A spout of unprofessional thoughts and potentials filled her processor, and she found herself picking up the pace, her faceplates flushing with shame. She needed to focus, not delve into her own personal fantasies. She was on the clock, and Rodi/mus needed her.

She needed to get there fast, both for Rodi/mus’ sake and her own.

The door to his habsuite was closed, and Velo/city gave it a tentative knock before entering. There was a faint sound of a struggle inside, the squeak of pedes against the floor and the creaks of straining furniture accompanying what she believed was—

No, she could not let her mind wander there.

With a deep breath in and a quick internal pep talk, Velo/city pushed the door open.

"Rodi/mus?" she called out, slowly creeping around the berth, alert for any signs of danger.

"Rodi/mus, are you there? I received your message."

There was no sign of him just yet. Velo/city huffed, starting to wonder if this was all just some ridiculous prank on his part. He couldn't have known about her sudden rising interest, but at the same time...

"Rodi/mus," she called again, making it to the washracks without a single sign of his presence. Too irritated to bother knocking by now, she simply swung the door open. "I'm serious, what's going on? If you're hurt, I-oh!"

All too quickly, Velo/city’s simmering frustration was replaced with a rush of panic and embarrassment. Too startled to speak, Velo/city simply stared with wide optics at the sight that greeted her. Of all the things she could have expected to see... she was certainly in over her helm now.

Rodi/mus' wide smile and bright optics were overshadowed by the pudge covering his face, and with a chubby servo wielding his shower brush, he waved her inside. He was quite incapacitated, it seemed, with legs spread wide to accommodate a massive hanging belly and chunky everything to match.

Velo/city hovered in the doorway for a moment, nervously nibbling at her lower lip as she took in the view. Pri/mus, she was probably quite the sight herself. She could practically feel the heat creeping into her cheeks, and it took everything in her not to fumble over what would have originally been a very awkward start to their interaction.

"Um," she began, hiding her flushed face behind a shaky servo. "I... were you... oh, Pri/mus. What can I do to help?"

"Glad you asked," Rodi/mus said, a breathless chuckle following the obscene slap of a wet servo against his belly rolls. "What do you say we start down here, then work our way up?"

Velo/city gasped, watching in awe as he hefted his upper belly up from his lap, exposing the slick, sweaty mesh underneath Rodi/mus seemed unbothered, merely happy to have the help he needed, but Velo/city was already counting on this being one of the best days in her career.

"Oh," she stammered again, her bottom lip going raw between her teeth.

It took a good bit of effort to delve into her programming and keep her professionalism separated from the charge building up behind sealed panels, but once Velo/city had realized she was just standing in the doorway, ogling the way his frame dwarfed the shower stool he'd planted himself down on, she quickly regained her bearings. Rodi/mus was still her patient, after all, no matter the circumstances.

Never mind her untimely feelings. *His* untimely loss of self-sufficiency demanded her attention, and she had to suck up her hesitation and do her job.

Easier said than done, of course.

Velo/city cleared her throat and held her helm high, stepping forward. After retrieving the shower brush from painfully chunky fingers, she asked, "How much have you gotten done so far? I'm sure it's, ah... uncomfortable, having all that buildup underneath, but we should make sure that everything is tended to before moving forward."

It must have dawned on him then, because Velo/city could almost *see* the gears turning in his helm. Rodi/mus let his belly drop, the splash of shower suds and lukewarm water making an absolute awful sound.

"Hard to say," he said, "so... what do you say we give it all a good once over, eh? Make sure everything's nice and squeaky clean?"

Pri/mus have mercy on her spark. Velo/city nodded past burning cheeks and a strained smile, shaky servos tentatively reaching out to fondle-no, *scrub* soft, jiggly mesh.

If she made it out of this with her dignity still intact, it would be a fragging miracle.

link to writer’s post:

[harfanfare]

Pomegranate Rule || Idia Shroud x Reader

Obligatory pair work with someone you like very much on a school project and have a chance to fall for each other more? - cliché.

The difference with Idia was that he kidnapped his project partner.

Idia leaned out from behind the column, whispering words of encouragement and summoning up the plan of this meeting he compiled at yesterday’s evening. He practised this conversation all night in front of the mirror, but as soon as he gained confidence, he forgot the text and desperately searched for the next line in the script.

There was a faint blush on his pale cheeks. Not from the sun, not from the fatigue, but nervousness. He hadn't left his room for someone in a long time, and what he was about to do required from him new social skills...

…to ask you to be his project partner, that’s it.

Ortho stood right next to Idia, leaning out from behind his older brother's silhouette and shifting his gaze once at the courtyard, once at him.

Idia cuffed his fingers on the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

Ortho's presence helped him a lot to keep on the promise he made to himself: today he will actually talk to you not on the phone, but face-to-face and suggest that you could do Sir Crewel’s project together.

He knew that you didn’t have a pair, since Grim went off where he could bug Adeuce combo, and even if he didn’t, you two would be counted as one student. But, to at least make some progress, you were picking up leaves you suspected to be just right for the experiment.

With each bush, you were getting closer and closer to the column behind which Idia was hiding, and he knew that if he won’t hurry with his proposal, someone will enter the square, dispatch the last pieces of Idia's courage and disperse you, and take you away.

For example someone like Epel and Jack, who have just entered the courtyard using the entrance on the opposite side.

This coincidence seemed to Idia to be as unfortunate as if all the forces of the world wanted to stop him from what he was planning and yet to validate his theory that it was not worth ever leave his room. On the other hand, since he was already here, and it took him a good few dozen attempts to motivate himself, he could not lose this unstarted game.

Idia, in an act of desperation, rushed towards you, hoping that the first-graders would not notice you.

You both keel over into the bushes as Jack and Epel headed towards you.

"Jack Howl, Epel Felmier!" Ortho greeted them, distracting all possible attention from the bushes that had just been approached by two people, both unaware of what was going on. "How is your project going? What topic did you choose?”

"Ortho-kun! What are you doing here?” Epel replied, coming closer to the young Shroud.

As Ortho distracted them with a conversation, Idia had an intimidating thought: what would happen if they saw your two in the bushes? He was madly blushing at the scenarios that created in his head. He put his hand on your lips—he was afraid that you would say anything that would attract unwanted attention—he slipped with you through the empty corridors to the dorm of Ignihyde.

…He forgot to explain what he was doing, and it likely looked like him committing a crime, but nothing will happen if he explains everything in his room, right...?

You were able to ask Idia what was he doing, once he closed the doors. Till then, on every question you asked he hissed “Sheesh! Do you want us to be found?!” and “P-please! Let us get to headquarters where I will… explain the mission…”.

Soon enough, you found yourself in his room; electronics was the main source of light, and the screens glowed bright blue around them. Although you didn't see any exposed windows or lamps lit to illuminate the room, everything was clearly visible.

There was a mess there, a mixture of the cardboard disorder that prevails after moving a house and the chaos of a man whose constantly working on something, desk always cluttered with papers, pens and documents.

You were sure you would stand on some lost Lego block or pin if you put your foot behind the bed where Idia has set you down.

“So, Idia,” you started. “…What exactly I am doing in your room?”

"Uh, well...” he stuttered, trying to remember the speech from yesterday's practices. “I wish I would know what you're doing here... I mean- I know why I brought you here. I wanted to ask you something. Ask, yes.”

"Ask? About what?” you didn't mention that you can ask outside of your own room, and you wasn’t going to correct that.

Idia tried to explain the whole situation. He skipped the preparation process, his speeches and ideas, he didn’t even mention the project, so all he said was hard-to-understand, abstract justification from the current situation.

He said, at least, that he came up with the idea to take you somewhere further away, where there were no people, as first-grades entered the courtyard.

“So I'm here by accident?" you asked after listening to Idia, slightly cocking your head at the side. “I don't understand…”

“It was an accident. A bit,” he wanted to loudly groan at his helplessness but finally bit his tongue. “I didn't want you here. I mean, I wanted to, but I didn't plan on it. I mean- Aah, it’s so hard to explain!”

You waited in silence, only nodding, letting him take his time.

"Sorry, I just... I feel weird talking to you...” Idia admitted, lowering his head.

The definition of Idia’s "weirdness" was different from yours.

When you heard that he was calling you strange, you felt a pang in your heart. Really? After so many months of acquaintance and quite frequent texting on the phone, when finally there was one of those few moments when you could talk face-to-face, he says it's awkward?

The "weirdness" of that feeling in Idia was something he could not explain easily: the joy of talking to you, anxiety that he would say something wrong, an uncertainty that you would change your mind and stop talking to him, excitement because he knew how interesting person you are and the frustration for every accurate, teasing comment…

"Oh, I see," you tried not to sound depressing. "So let me leave.”

"No, wait, that's not what I meant..!”

Oh, no. Idia’ plan went downhill again.

Idia jumped to a drawer and started looking for something in it, digging through notebooks, cables and lost items.

“...Don't worry, Idia, we can end this conversation on the phone... or something.”

“No, no, no, wait, please!” discreetly took out a round metal box before he dashed to you, blocking the only way out, heavy equipment surrounding you that now seemed to be an impassable wall.

"Uh?"

He took the hard candy from the container he took from the shelf, though he did it so subtly, forcing himself to stare at you and keep your gaze from tearing away from him, so you couldn’t notice candy in his hand.

They were pomegranate drops that had been presented to him as a funny joke from a student who knew that a box, just like its contents, was enchanted by Vil's unique magic: whoever tasted them will not be able to move more than twenty meters from the place the fruit drop was eaten.

Haha, because you know, the members of Ignihyde don't go outside and won't even notice they were cursed.

Idia was sure that even Vil did not know that the candies had fallen into his hands.

"Huh? What are you-“

As soon as you opened your mouth, Idia pressed fruit drop up to your lips and covered them with his hand, in case you tried to spit it out. His movements became very mechanical and heavy, probably most of his muscles were strained. Because of that, you also couldn't push him away.

He only stepped out of your way you once swallowed the candy.

And so you were bound by a spell that you discovered the moment Idia let you towards the door. You stopped more than a meter from them, unable to even grasp the doorknob.

You swung your hand a few times as if not believing that none of your movements was moving you forward.

“Idia. I know we should talk, but by cutting me off from the door?”

Surprise with this solution, Idia's embarrassed smile, dripping sweat from the stress he felt, and a sudden dose of delicious sugar made you burst into laughter.

“This. Is. Great.” You accented each word, becoming more and more amused with each one as if you had just heard the best joke of the era. “Is it the fault of those drops?”

Idia, surprised by your reaction, finally relaxed. Your sudden, inexplicable outburst, hearty laugh calmed him down a lot. He even came to the conclusion that he really likes the way you laugh.

Ortho soon entered the room. You two shortened the story and explained that you probably have to stay here for the night.

"Oh, so nii-san finally asked you to do a project with him?"

“Project...?” you repeated. Then you turned your head to Idia and smirked at him. “So that was what it was for?”

He answered you with a shrug as if last day Idia didn’t have any thoughts screaming “Project!” and that followed by “[Name]!”.

However, Ortho said it for him.

Idia, of course, tried to stop him, but Ortho knew how much time his brother spent just planning to talk to you. A wave of shame flooded Idia as you listened to Ortho's words with interest. And maybe with a pinch of delight spilling over your heart—Idia did so much for you! You could feel the flush on your face and a smile spread across your lips every time you heard about Idia's efforts.

Soon after, after the excitement of this conversation had died down and you thanked Idia for his planning efforts, a package of cookies and biscuits was opened. You couldn't go to the cafeteria to eat anything, and even ordinary snacks from school vending machines taste better in pleasant company, right?

“We haven't had many opportunities to talk like that, have we?"

You took a sip of the warm tea Idia had made—it was incredibly bitter but chilled enough not to burn your tongue—and watched the screen where Idia was working.

He pushed himself away from writing some codes with some slowness, but he didn't look at you.

“You're right...”

After a pause, he started speaking again, this time in a whisper, but you heard him very clearly.

"I've always admired you, [Name]-shi..." he said, pressing his knees against his chest. “Talking to so many different people and solving their problems... I often find it tedious and self-righteous to interfere in the affairs of others, however…. Everything you do always ends well. I-I couldn't do that.”

“I should be saying it!” You said after a moment of silence as if you were processing words you completely didn't suspect him of. “You deal with electronics like a professional. Wait, you are the professional! How many programming languages have you already mastered? How many devices have you already created? You have a wonderful talent and... even your brother little is proof of it.”

You both looked at Ortho connected to specialized equipment. "CHARGING" was displayed on the screen, and by minutes the numbers were close to 100%.

Idia didn't smile at your words—instead he seemed incredibly focused. With each passing second, he had a more and more sincere expression of pleasant frustration, which was also reflected in his long hair behind which he tried to hide his face.

He couldn't even answer and just nodded.

"And... I have to confess to something," you began after another minute of pleasant silence, which you felt sorry to interrupt. "If you previously seemed quite average to me, maybe even a little pale-faced, now I know that you are special."

These words were already his limit. He couldn't take his eyes off you, forgot how to breathe, forgot how to blink, and his lungs refused to cooperate.

His heart crashed for good after your next words.

"So... if you please," you got up and smiled at him. “Idia Shroud, will you do me this honour and become my project partner?”

"The curse already faded.”

You could reach the door and go to the farthest corners of the room. You could leave.

The project has been completed. With the light help of Ortho, who also wanted to contribute to the project, by two in the morning, you finished doing experiments, writing out data, conclusions and completing them with graphic documentation.

And then you played games for the next three hours; each game was digital and very engaging—it wasn't for Ortho, you and Idia wouldn't fall asleep even for a minute. Even when you went to bed—and there was a whole five-minute debate about where you were going to sleep—you talked in whispers about everything and nothing until one of you fell asleep.

Even if the attachment to Vil's magic was gone, you couldn't deny that you became attached to a certain blue-haired boy who followed the last lines of your conclusions with his golden eyes.

It was really fun.

He and Ortho probably would have done this project faster, but the collaboration of the three—you, Ortho and Idia—seemed so pleasant that if he could, he would do it once again. Even if that meant another research about hyper-difficult projects Crewel liked to torture his students with.

"I will come again," you said as suddenly as if you were reading his mind. He flinched at those words, and your tone of voice changed to a more biting tone. “You don't have to kidnap me this time.”

"I d-didn't..." he tried to deny but was stuck on the next words. “...Really? Will you really come here?”

“Your charm bound me more than candy, I can promise you,” you gave him one last smile before you closed the door behind you and rushed through the corridor with a strange, blissful feeling, looking forward to your next project.

So did he.

[ibuki-loves-you]

Drv3 boys(or any of your choice) with a s/o that's mikan reincarnated(not literally just personality and action wise very similar)

DRV3 Boys with a S/O that is like Mikan

Warnings: Mikan's personality/actions

Mod Ibuki: This was so fun to write! Sorry if it's a little repetitive

Shuichi:

Oh boy-

Shuichi and you are both shy

But you moreso than him, so he gets really protective

He wants no one making fun of you or using you

One time you thought he was mad at you

You were nonstop apologizing and offering to take your clothes off

His heart shattered

"S/O, I'm not mad I promise! You did absolutely nothing wrong. Don't worry, it's okay."

When you get like this he just holds you and pets your hair

And gives you lots of forehead kisses

If you ever fell in front of him he would try to prevent it by either catching you or warning you

If he doesn't then he just helps you up and covers you if need be

"I-I'm sorryyyy!" "It's okay, baby. Don't apologize, it's okay."

When Kokichi began trying to make you upset, he was livid

"Hey, S/O! You're making me really angry!" "Am I?! I-I'm so sorry! I-I'll take my-" "Shut up, Kokichi. S/O, you did nothing wrong. He's trying to upset you. Ignore him, he isn't worth it." "O-Oh..."

Shuichi just wants you to be safe, and he's willing to do a lot for you to be that

Kaito:

Kaito thinks your shy nature is adorable!

Like Shuichi, he is also very protective

He doesn't want anyone cough Kokichi taking advantage of you

Kaito gets really upset when you apologize consistently

He's been trying to work with you on it

"I-I-I'm so s-sorry!!!" "S/O, babe! It's okay! You did nothing wrong! Don't apologize!"

Kaito doesn't mind that you are clumsy

It just gives him a reason to hold onto you!

But if you do end up taking a fall, he's quick to help

And rip anyone who makes fun of you a new one

Before you two were dating, Miu frequently insulted you

Almost every time she did you freaked out

"Ahhhhh! I-I'm sorry!! I-I'll take m-my clothes off if y-you want!"

Kaito shut that shit down quick

"S/O, no. You don't have to do that."

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd be pretty sad

"S/O, I promise you that I am not mad. I swear on every star in the sky."

Boy loves you so much and just wants you to be the best person you can be

Rantaro:

As soon as Rantaro saw you he immediately wanted to protect you

No one ever really tries to fuck with you because Rantaro will get mad and since it's pretty hard to make him angry everyone got freaked out

Everyone learned that the hard way

First time Kokichi tried fucking with you Rantaro handed his ass to him on a silver platter

"Hey, S/O! Heard you can do animal impressions super well! Mind showing me what a dog looks like?" "O-Okay..."

Rantaro never pulled you to his chest so quick

"So help me, Kokichi. Don't you fucking dare."

No one really heard him swore before so everyone was freaked out

If you took a fall in front of him, his reflexes are quick

If he couldn't catch you, he's insanely fast you help or cover you up

No one is catching a glance at you don't worry

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd immediately go to comfort you

"I-I'm sorry! I-I d-didn't mean to upset y-you!"

"No, baby please. Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing to upset me. I'm not mad, either. I promise. I'll even pinky promise."

Rantaro loves you so so much just let him hold you I'd make his entire life <3

Kokichi:

At first, Kokichi thought it was hilarious

He thought you were just shy

Until you offered to take your clothes off because he started fake-crying

Ever since then he hasn't played intense pranks on you, teased you, etcetera

No one has ever seen him actually care about someone

So it was a shock when he snapped at Miu for making fun of you

"Fuckin' slut! Why don't you offer to take your clothes off for me!?" "I-I'm s-sorry! I-I will if y-you want!"

"Listen you fucking skank. They aren't gonna do that for you because you don't control them. So why don't you carry your sorry ass to your dorm and go play with yourself."

Miu was appalled, just like everyone else

She just cowered away and muttered an apology

Kokichi is well aware that you are clumsy

If you're embarrassed because of a fall, he'll trip too

Or start crying to divert attention

Say you land in a rather awkward position, he will cover you up as soon as he sees and if anyone looks he will throw hands

If you were to think he was mad at you for some reason, he would feel so bad it's not even funny

"S/O... I'm not mad! I couldn't be mad at you. You're too cute to get mad at! You did absolutely nothing wrong, so don't apologize!"

You're Kokichi's soft spot <3

Ryoma:

Never once has he laughed or made fun of you

If anything, he lowkey pitied you

Although Ryoma is small, he can and will fuck someone up for you if it came down to it

One time he nailed Kokichi in the shin with a tennis racket for telling you to act like a cat

"Say it again, I dare you."

Kokichi didn't bother you for a while

If you ever thought he was angry with you, poor boy would have mixed emotions

He would be upset but also angry with himself for making you think that

"Hey... I'm not mad. I don't think I have the ability to be mad at you. I promise, you did nothing to piss me off."

Ryoma can't really catch you if you fall, but he's quick to try and help you up

If you are exposed in some way, he will stand in front of you until you fix yourself

He will protect you for as long as he lives and that's a promise

Gonta:

Gonta was kinda clueless when it came to you

You were shy? Okay!

Even though he didn't really understand, he knew some things were wrong

Like when Miu would insult you and you'd either cry or offer to please her

"Miu! That's not nice! Don't say that to S/O! You don't have to do anything you don't want, S/O!"

Ever since then Gonta got pretty protective

If you ever thought he was mad, he'd probably bawl

"G-Gonta not mad at S/O! Gonta promise! Gonta not mad at all!"

Falling is 50/50 with him

Half of the time he catched you beforehand

The other half you fall and he feels bad

But either way he shields you and helps you up immediately

"Because it's what gentleman do!"

You're like a butterfly to him

Fragile and something that he wants to keep safe

Korekiyo:

Kiyo found you facinating

Your timid nature drew him to you at first

He would merely talk to you and try to be your friend

"Is there a reason why you are so shy, dear?" "O-Oh, I got b-bullied a lot...I-I'm sorry! I should k-keep my sob story to m-myself!" "Please don't apologize. I would like to know as much about you as you'd let me." "O-Oh...o-okay..."

Ever since that first conversation he kept you out of harms way

One day, Miu started insulting you (as usual)

"Ahhhh! I-I'm sorry! I-I can t-take my clothes off i-if you want!" "Hell ye-!" "Say such a thing again and I will be sure to make the next trial yours."

He worked with you a lot after that about offering to take your clothes off in return for forgiveness

"Darling, you have no one to please except yourself. Your body is yours and you should not offer to display it to those you don't want to. Especially if they are unworthy of seeing such a beautiful sight."

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he would be quick to tell you otherwise

"Never, my dear. I am certainly not angry with you. I swear, I don't think I possess the ability to be angered by you."

Kiyo has helped you grow so much, and that's the most beautiful thing in his eyes <3

Kiibo:

When Kiibo first met you, he had a strange feeling

He went to Miu about it and laughed in his face

She told him he was feeling protective

"What a strange feeling...should I act on it?" "Hell yeah!!"

"S/O, I have a feeling called 'protectiveness' towards you." "O-Oh! I-I don't know w-why you'd have such a feeling towards a n-nobody like m-me..." "Don't say such things! Would you like to accompany me to the library?" "I-If it's not a b-bother..."

Miu wouldn't make fun of you, she actually considers you a friend

Kokichi though

Another story

"Hey, S/O! You really pissed me off yesterday!" "Ahhhh!!! I-I'm so sorry!! D-Do you w-want me to take off m-my clothes?" "No, S/O! That isn't necessary! He is lying and is trying to make you upset!"

Miu would deal with Kokichi don't you worry S/O

If you ever thought Kiibo was mad at you, he'd be so confused

"What caused you to think I was angry? Actually, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you know I am not mad in the slightest."

If you ever took a fall in front of him, he would help you up immediately!

But if you fell in a suggestive position, he'd crash

Tenko would rush to help you if that happened

Then she'd curse him out on his degenerate male robot brain

Moral of the story, Kiibo wants to protect you from anything that comes your way! And trust me, he will not fail you!

[infernalrevenge]

Kiss The Girl

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G/T

Summary: Reader doesn't know how to handle how beautiful their girlfriend is. One thought in particular has preoccupied their mind as the two of them spend time together.

Notes: The real summary of this is actually "Reader wants to kiss Donna so bad" because hey don't we all HAHAHA. In this house, we love two pining idiots, even in an established relationship setting. Enjoy!

----------

“Y/N, please tell Donna she looks fine!” Angie whined, only to be cradled even closer to the lady’s chest.

“You look fantastic, darling. As always,” they assured her, smiling widely as they laid both hands on her shoulders.

Y/N managed to convince Donna to wear an eyepatch to cover her Cadou scar around them instead of her usual veil. They knew how insecure she felt about having it exposed, so the both of them figured this might be a good compromise. They always assured her that she was beautiful no matter what, but until she was ready to reveal that part of herself to everyone else, then this should do.

The only thing was, after some time, they didn't realize how overwhelming it would be to get to see Donna's face so often.

They had become very familiar and in-tune with her non-verbal mannerisms -- how she twiddled her thumbs when she started to get bored during family meetings, how her hands clenched to fists then loosened when she got frustrated but didn't want to make a scene of it, the soft hum she would let out when she was satisfied with how a project was going. Getting to see all of that as expressions on her face and more have somehow made her even more endearing.

Did she always scrunch her nose like that when she was threading a needle? And how did it never occur to them that there would be a sparkle in her eye whenever she read something she found fascinating on plants? Oh god, she's so cute when she blushes too, this just isn't fair! Their heart can only take so much.

Then there's Donna's lips -- full in shape, with just a tint of pink to contrast her pale skin. She purses them together when she's deep in thought, she bites down on her lower lip when she's nervous or embarrassed -- and her smile? The soft curve of her lips whenever Angie cracks a joke or Y/N compliments her?

It always knocked the wind out of them.

Even just sitting with her right now, they could barely focus on the novel they were supposed to be reading together and just looked at Donna's serene expression. She was snuggled into their side, her feet up on the couch as the book rested on her lap so both of them can see, and Angie mirrored her position against her side. It was clear that they have established a comfortable space between them -- Donna had never felt so at ease to the point that her posture was this relaxed. She felt safe.

They knew what she had been through and what it took for her to get to where she was. Their chest swelled with affection for her, so happy to know that she trusted them enough to be this at ease in their presence, that she was willing to share her interests and insecurities and everything that made her who she was. At that moment, only one thought rang through their mind as their gaze landed on her lips.

God, I wanna kiss her.

"Y/N?" she called out, snapping them out of their trance. "Are you finished with this page, love?"

Oops.

"I bet they're not even reading," Angie snickered. They could feel the tips of their ears start to heat up in embarrassment.

"I, uh... I was just sort of, um, distracted, I guess."

Despite being together for a while now, Y/N had never actually gotten to kiss Donna. Perhaps it was because the veil used to be an obstacle and they weren't sure if they could cross that threshold just yet while she still wore it frequently. But it was never a problem before when they would plant soft kisses on her forehead and temples through it, and they have gotten away with sneaking a kiss onto her cheek before.

"What's on your mind?” She closed the book though left her index finger between the last page they were on and faced them, looking concerned.

They suddenly grew shy, rubbing on the back of their neck as they averted their gaze down. What a strange role reversal. They didn’t mean to interrupt their reading time by letting their mind wander. Still, they knew they could be honest with her, so they decided to just say it.

“You, actually... You’ve been on my mind.”

It was her turn to be shy now, eyes casting down. Ah, now this scenario felt more familiar.

“Um... what about me?” She was nervous, judging by how she started chewing on her bottom lip. Y/N caught sight of it, and they felt their heart start to beat faster.

They wished they could be the one to bite it.

“I’ve just been thinking about, like, you and how pretty you are and wonderful and sweet and you just trust me so much and I love that and I wanna show that so--”

“You wanna kiss her, don’t ya?” Angie chimed in, jumping and getting all up on Y/N’s face, which was quickly heating up at how plainly the doll saw right through them. She couldn’t make too many expressions but if she could, no doubt she would be smirking.

“I-I, well, I mean, not that I-- it’s not, I mean I do--”

“You’ve been staring at her mouth for almost the entire hour we’ve been here.”

Donna lunged for the doll, letting go of the book in her haste and pulled her away from Y/N.

They blinked, looking up at the lady, “Wait, did you notice too?”

She looked off to the side, shrinking back. “Duh,” Angie supplied. Well if she noticed then surely the lady did as well, seeing as Angie was an extension of her.

“So are you gonna kiss her or what?”

Donna quickly pulled Angie back onto her lap, as if to say that that was enough. She ducked her head behind her, trying to hide her face from their view.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Donna has had similar thoughts, and likewise had no idea what to do about them. She had thought about maybe hinting to it every now and then and just hoped that they pick up on it -- a subtle look here, a touch there. They very much did not.

(Angie already explained that it was a dumb strategy but what else was she supposed to do? Ask outright? What if they said no? What if they become disgusted by the thought of it? What if they're just not into kissing? What if--)

She scooted farther onto the other end of the couch, hoping to get away before she could embarrass heraelf any further, only for Y/N to reach for her -- not quite touching since they didn't want to startle her, but just enough to catch her attention. "Wait."

She stayed still, one hand on the armrest and a foot planted on the floor. She still seemed ready to flee, so Y/N tried to mitigate the awkwardness. What better way to start than with honesty?

"I do, by the way. I mean, I want to. To kiss you." A pregnant pause passed. "If you want to! O-only if you want to, I don't want to impose anything, I just wanted to--"

"Yes."

Another pause.

That actually came from Donna. It wasn't Angie speaking on her behalf to get it over with, it was her voice. It came from her.

"Yes?" They wanted to be sure.

"Yes. I... do too."

"Oh." They felt their mouth quirk up, relief starting to wash over. "Oh. Then..."

They moved closer to where Donna was now, approaching slowly as she started to relax again. She sat back down on the couch, clutching her doll close but keeping her still in her arms. Y/N settled right next to her and never took their eyes off her face. Their proximity to each other was nothing new at this point, they had cuddled more times than they can count, but suddenly their closeness made them feel those same butterflies in their stomach from the first time. It drew the line of want and anticipation.

Oh my god, this was happening.

They reached up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her skin. Their eyes locked with her dark gray ones, moving just a little closer, wanting to give her the opportunity to back away, but she stood (or rather, sat) steady.

"May I?" they whispered.

Donna didn't say anything, only letting her eyes slip closed as soon as she felt their breath ghosting over her lips, granting silent permission. They followed her lead and leaned in, finally closing the distance between them with a soft kiss.

Donna couldn't help the shiver that went down her spine as soon as they made contact, overwhelmed with emotion yet anchored by the feeling of their lips on hers. Everything she had read in those stories and seen on those shows about when two people who love each other finally, finally kiss? The culmination of their feelings and simultaneously the beginning of something new altogether? It was nothing like she imagined -- this felt so much more... magical.

As for Y/N, they never imagined it could be like this. Sure, they had thought about what it might actually feel like, how things might lead up, but those fantasies are now in shambles compared to the real deal. They felt like their senses were alight; the feeling of her warm lips, the scent of flowers on her person, the warmth of her body against theirs -- they were aware of all of it, and wanted nothing more than to commit this moment to memory. When they felt her lips move against theirs, it was a miracle that they hadn't melted into a puddle on the floor.

They felt her smile against their mouth, and at that point they had to pull away because they couldn't stop the laugh bubbling up inside them from escaping. The lady looked up at Y/N, smile widening. "What is it?" she asked softly.

"I'm just... so happy," they replied between giggles, wrapping their arms around her waist to pull her close. "I love you so much, Donna."

It was her turn again to be the bashful one. They only got a glimpse of how quickly her face turned pink before she proceeded to hide it against their shoulder, her hands clinging onto their shirt. “I... love you too, Y/N.”

If they were to name just one great thing that came out of all this, it was that they can’t wait to make her dizzy with kisses whenever they desired and watch her get flustered in real time.

It seemed Donna had the same idea though -- as soon as she lifted her head up again, she immediately lunged forward for a second kiss. She wrapped her arms around their neck and caught their lips in hers. Y/N returned the favor in kind, but the moment didn't last long -- interrupted by a high-pitched yelp. "Ow!"

"Sorry, Angie!" The lady broke off and tried to pick up the doll, only for her to bound back up and move away.

"Ah-ah, no! Keep going! I'll stay out of your hair," she insisted, floating out of the library to who knows where.

Donna looked back up at Y/N, embarrassed, though they didn't let her wallow for long and continued where they left off. They pulled her in for another passionate kiss, guaranteed to leave the both of them breathless and wanting more.

[engie-ivy]

Remus is quite smitten with the new guy he's been dating, but as he clearly can't have nice things, he completely ruins it and now he can only wait for Sirius Black to break up with him. Sirius Black has a different interpretation.

“I called your father an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse!”

Sirius frowns, like he doesn’t understand why Remus would consider that an issue. “My father is an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse.”

Far from the tree

To: Lily Evans

Lily, my time has come. Please remember me fondly.

Dramatic much, Lupin?

No, Lily. My life is genuinely over.

Okay, spill. How so?

Remember that guy I’ve been dating?

Mmm, let me think. The tall, fit one with the long, soft, dark hair, pretty eyes and broad shoulders, whom you’ve told me about approximately ten thousand times a day?

Yeah, I believe that does ring a bell.

Well, you can forget about him again.

He’s on his way over here to dump me as we speak.

What? No! Why?

I met his parents yesterday...

Remmie! That’s a huge step!

I didn’t know things were so serious between you two?

Things were seriously serious with Sirius!

Ah, but I gather from your first message it didn’t go very well?

It didn’t.

Oh, Remmie, you’re probably being too hard on yourself.

It’s always stressful to meet the parents. I’m sure they’ll understand if you were a bit awkward.

I called his father a narrow-minded bonehead whose imbecile opinions belong in the Middle Ages.

...

Yeah. Yeah, okay. That’s... That’s bad.

Remus, why?!

Because apparently I’m an idiot who has a good thing going and just has to find a way to ruin it for himself.

What did he say?

He drove me home and it was so awkward...

I was so embarrassed for causing such a scene at his bloody parents house, I fled inside as fast as I could, without really speaking to him (yes, I admit, I’m a coward).

I texted you right after I got a message from him just now, saying he’s on his way over, because ‘he needs to talk to me’...

Yikes.

Okay. Okay, maybe... If his family really is so narrow-minded, maybe you dogged the bullet?

He seems nothing like them, though. I really can’t believe those people raised him.

Well, you wouldn’t say me and my sister were raised by the same people, so I guess strange things happen.

But Remus,

Know that if he breaks up with you because you don’t get along with his stupid parents, he doesn’t deserve you anyway!

Normally, I’d agree. But I don’t know if that still goes when you call someone’s mother ‘a vicious old hag, whose arrogance is only equal to her stupidity’.

...

Remus!

What the hell happened there?!

Oh my God, he’s here!

These are officially my last moments of dating a way out of my league-guy.

Well, I guess it was nice as long as it lasted. Might as well get it over with.

I’m so sorry, Remus. I know you really liked this one...

Stay strong! I’ll have the chocolate ready!

With a sigh, Remus tosses his phone to the side and stands to get the door. Might as well get it over with, right?

When he opens the door to reveal Sirius, the positive thing is that Sirius doesn’t immediately begin yelling at him. He doesn’t even look all that angry, really. He just gives Remus a small, uncertain smile.

The negative thing is that Sirius looks bloody gorgeous. He’s wearing an elegant coat, with a scarf loosely draped around his long neck and his hair is hanging loose. Before today, this would definitely be considered a positive thing, but not when Remus is just minutes away from getting dumped by this ridiculously handsome man. There should really be a rule against looking this good when you’re breaking up with someone, Remus thinks bitterly as he steps aside to let Sirius in his apartment.

As Sirius unbuttons his coat to reveal a fitted shirt showing off his lean, muscular form, Remus can only conclude that he has really been fooling himself by thinking this could ever last.

He shakes his head to stop himself from ogling his soon to be-ex-boyfriend. “Would you like something to drink?” He asks, trying to sound composed.

“No thank you,” Sirius replies. “I’d rather get this off my chest immediately.”

Remus doesn’t reply and stares at his feet to brace himself for the inevitable blow.

“I suppose you know why I’m here?” Sirius asks, sounding a bit nervous.

Remus wonders vaguely if Sirius is concerned about hurting his feelings, even after his horrible behaviour of yesterday. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I do.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come, but I just had to at least tell you how sorry I am, even if you want nothing to do with me anymore.”

Remus just stares at him, trying to puzzle together what Sirius just said. He’s sorry... about having to break up with Remus? But shouldn’t he lead with the break up? And why would it be up to Remus to want nothing to do with him? Remus is not in a state of mind to deal with this. Can’t Sirius just dump him already?

Sirius is getting more nervous as Remus continues to just stare at him. “So I guess I just... offer you my apologies, and it’s up to you whether you want to accept them.”

“You’re apologizing?” Remus asks.

Sirius nods.

“You are apologizing to me?”

Another nod.

“You to me?”

“Yes, Remus,” Sirius says, sounding distraught. “But don’t worry, I don’t expect anything from you. I know I don’t have the right, after the situation I put you in.”

“I called your father an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse!”

Sirius frowns, like he doesn’t understand why Remus would consider that an issue. “My father is an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse.”

“No! I mean, well... yes, but I’m not supposed to say so, right?”

Sirius shrugs. “They had it coming, didn’t they? I’m not gonna make excuses for them. I was just hoping you might still want to give us a chance?”

“Your parents hate me!” Remus splutters.

Sirius lets out a laugh. “Thank God. If they’d liked you, I seriously had to reconsider our relationship.”

Remus blinks at him.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “Let me explain. My parents,” he speaks slowly now. “Are awful people. Like, really awful people. I shouldn’t have given in when they demanded to meet you, or I should have at least told you what they’re like. I’m so sorry I put you in that situation and exposed you to them without so much as a warning. I can understand if you hate me right now.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Remus asks, as he would’ve much rather been spared the anxiety he has been feeling all day.

Sirius shrugs again. “I suppose I wanted you to form you own opinion? As their son, I’m of course biased to hate them.”

Remus opens his mouth to say that is not how a parent-child relationship is supposed to work, but Sirius keeps talking.

“Look, Remus. You didn’t sign up for dealing with my horrible parents, and I’m sorry I dragged you into it. My family is... messed up, and I can understand if you want nothing to do with that whole mess. I won’t blame you if you just want to stay away from me and my family issues.”

“I...”

I’ll do a whole lot more than deal with crappy parents if it means I get to be with you, Remus wants to say. I won’t judge you based on who your parents are, Remus wants to say. I won’t just abandon you, Remus wants to say.

What he says instead is “I purposely spilled a glass of red wine over your mother’s new couch!”

Sirius looks at him with a fond smile. “Yeah, just when I thought I couldn’t love you more.”

Sirius doesn’t seem to realise what he just said, but Remus’ eyes widen. “You... love me?”

Sirius flushes and starts stammering. “Oh God, I’m sorry! Not that I love you. I mean, look at you. How could I not? But that’s way too soon, isn’t it? And this is the worst timing! I mean, you’re probably super angry with me, and I don’t even know if you still want to see me...”

“I don’t mind!” Remus quickly says. “I mean, I think I rather like that you love me? I think I’m very much starting to feel the same way?”

Sirius looks at him with a hopeful expression. “You do?”

Remus chuckles. “Come here,” he says as he pulls Sirius towards him. “For you, I’d throw my wine over any piece of furniture your mother might own any day.”

Sirius smiles as he leans in to kiss Remus. “In that case, can’t wait till Christmas.”

Remus? How bad is it?

Will regular milk do, or is this a triple chocolate with chocolate chips-type of situation?

Hates his parents, loves me, all good!

[milksbigbookosin]

Helpless (Philza x Reader)

Oh boy here we go, exposing my dilfza side!

Once again I hope you guys enjoy and feel free to send requests in my ask box!

Word Count: 1,673

You absolutely adored spending your time in the town’s library even since you were little along with Wilbur. Ever since you were younger you tended to be far too awkward when it came to starting friendships. Wilbur would come into the lounge for the teens, sitting around the computers with the other kids yelling and joking around. He had seen you being rather sheepish, oftentimes peering over your book to see whatever they were up to only to quickly avert your gaze when he caught you. If anyone asked him, he’d say he walked over to you to say hi just for you to start following him around like a puppy. In reality, he had started to pester you when he caught you looking. He was so stubborn to talk to you and wouldn’t let you be whenever he saw you from there on.

Regardless of how he claimed the two of you met, you were grateful that you did. He was one of your first friends growing up and you wouldn’t trade the world for him. That being said, he drove you nuts along with the kids that had started to follow him around like he was some big brother. Tommy was by far the worst of the two, constantly making little jokes towards you trying to “flirt”. You know, as much as a 12 year old could flirt with a 20-something year old when he was barely over his cootie phase. Thankfully though today it was just the two of you.

A sigh from Wilbur caught your attention, peering over your book to him. He was looking around from his seat, a bored look on his face. God you already knew he was about to be overdramatic...

“Doesn’t this ever get old to you,Y/N?” he asked,eyes looking desperately for something, anything to give him some sort of excitement but he was instead met with nothing but countless shelves of books and the occasional noises from who knows where.

You hummed to yourself, seemingly thinking it over before bluntly saying “Nope! We always go to the library on Saturday Wil, this isn't new.” He turned his gaze to you and pouted, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you went back to your book. “Come oooon,” he leaned across the table, pushing down your book so you were forced to look at him “You’re telling me that you don’t want to go out and do something for once? I’m sure Techno is probably doing something cool, probably going in the Nether or something else fucking bonkers.”

Was he serious right now?

The Nether, especially with Techno, was far from a fun idea to you. Techno wasn’t as impulsive as Wil or Tommy but that didn’t exactly mean it would be a calm trip. Techno was a little strange to you, always going on and on about chaos and little philosophical rants about politics and such. He was one of Wilbur’s friends from before he met you and if you were honest, he was weird back then too.

“Yeah, just so Tech can get us lost like he did last time in the woods when you guys wanted to find a dog?”

“Hey! We got home didn’t we?”

“Wil it took us till sunset to get home and you almost broke your leg on a log-”

He once again sighed, this time louder and more dramatic than before. It was kind of cute when he went on these little tangents, now going on about you having to learn to ‘live a little’. Yeah right, because living meant taking dumb risks for literally no reason. Part of you wished you had the guts he had, making friends with so many kinds of people and going on crazy adventures but you knew better than to get wrapped up in all of that. Something suddenly caught your eye, something dark poking out from one of the aisles behind Wilbur as he went on talking. There was someone standing in the aisle, the strange object seemingly fluttering when they moved. Your mind was wandering, curious of who lingered out of sight before finally walking out from behind the shelf.

Blonde locks rested on green clothed shoulders, bright eyes glancing over the spines of books. The dark objects you had seen now were much clearer, turning out to be a rather large pair of what seemed to be raven wings. You had seen some rather interesting people around L’Manburg but, wow, they were rather gorgeous.

‘The wings.

The wings were gorgeous’ you thought to yourself.

Goodness what was wrong with you?

“-I’m just saying, I don’t want you to be so damn sheltered that you cease to function if I ever had to leave or anything you know?” He said, looking up at you expecting to see you giving your usual pained smile you gave when it came to serious talks but, strangely enough, you weren’t even paying attention to him. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in confusion before following your gaze behind him. It was silent for a moment as Wil looked at who had your attention, feeling even more confused to see his friend Phil. Why were you looking at Phil like that? Granted, he never introduced you two but it wasn’t like you to just stare like that at people. He turned back to you, waving one of his hands over your eyes.

“You alright there, Y/N?”

You flinched, snapping out of your little trance and looking back to Wilbur. Oh goodness, how long was he done talking? You didn’t mean to space out on him so bad. “Yeah- I'm sorry about that..just got a little” you paused cheeks heating up, trying to think of how to word it without Wilbur possibly prying “spacey.”

Something seemed to click in Wil’s mind as he saw your cheeks darken, looking back to Phil then back to you as he worked it over in his head. Suddenly his lips curled into a mischievous smirk, watching you try to look back down at your book that now rested on the table. You had no idea just how guilty you looked, failing to catch that look on Wil’s face as he suddenly stood up from the table.

“Gimme a sec-”

Before you could question him he scooted his chair in, turning around and walking right up to the winged man. ‘Oh god,’ you thought as Wilbur started talking to him. You couldn’t hear anything they were saying so all you could do was watch helplessly as they chatted away. After what felt like an eternity Wil leaned in closer to him, turning to look at you while he seemed to whisper something to him ‘Oh god what is he doing?!’ You felt like your heart was going to burst when the stranger’s eyes looked right at you, shifting from Wilbur then back to you. You quickly looked down at the book again, unable to look either of them in the eye. You wanted to sink into the floor, why is it the moment you get the slightest bit of a crush you had to be with Wilbur? If only you didn’t stare, if only you just agreed to something different today..Maybe you could just leave honestly. Wilbur would probably tease you for a week over you being a chicken but at the very least you’d still have some breath left in you.

“Hey-”

Your eyes shot up at the new voice, shocked to see the blonde in front of you and even more shocking, Wilbur wasn’t behind him taunting you silently. Nope, instead it was just you and the raven winged stranger. You swallowed nervously, trying your best to give him a friendly little smile that came out making you look far too small and mousey.

“You mind if I sit with ya?” he asked, a knowing smile on his face that made you jittery. Not wanting to seem weird you simply shook your head, grateful as he didn’t pry for a verbal answer and instead took Wilbur’s seat across from you. Goodness that smile was going to be the death of you. He propped his elbow up on the table resting his chin on his palm as he watched you shift in your chair nervously. “So,” he finally said “Wil says apparently you were givin me the eyes”he teased, loving the way your cheeks darkened at that far too much.

“He’s such an ass” you muttered to yourself,nervously playing with the pages of your book as you tried to search for some sort of way to get yourself out of this “I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything.” This was so embarrassing, having to admit that you were being some weirdo and staring at him.

“Honestly I think it’s cute if it means anything” he admitted, once again catching you off guard. You haven’t felt so helpless before. You didn’t feel uncomfortable in a bad way or anything but to have a much taller and very handsome guy right across from you was really something for sure. You knew now that you’d never hear the end of this and in all honesty? Wilbur was going to probably die if she didn’t melt by the end of this. He extended his hand, giving you a patient smile “I’m Phil.”

You gave a slightly more comfortable smile to him, gently taking his hand and giving a shake “Y/N…”

“Well Y/N, I mostly came over here to introduce myself since Wil had to be a little tattletail” he joked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and standing up“Hopefully i’ll actually get to see you around when you’re not all frazzled, yeah?”

You could only manage a nod again, melting as you heard him chuckle at you being so nervous. You think you heard him say bye as he walked off but you were much too focused on how you were going to kill Wilbur later.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Pearl, Ch. 6: Having and Holding

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Too much is happening too fast.

The little room is stuffy, and Mulder just called her honey, and she’s sweating beneath his palm at her back. The ugly filigree carpet beneath her feet rolls like a tide, and Scully briefly wonders if she’s going to pass out. She should have eaten more for breakfast.

The officiant, who introduced herself as Linda, is saying something to her.

“Miss Scully, do you have the license?” she prompts.

“Oh, yes, I do,” Scully replies, handing her the manila envelope she’s been unwittingly creasing in her nervous fist.

“You’ve been practicing your lines,” Mulder jokes, finally taking his hand off the small of her back. Scully misses the contact and is simultaneously relieved.

Linda glances up from her lectern to smile at him. “He’s a funny one,” she says to Scully.

“Mhm,” Scully hums stiffly, wiping her hands on her skirt for the fiftieth time today. She feels the bulge of a ring box in her pocket, and her pulse accelerates.

The officiant adjusts her glasses. “Alright, it looks like everything is in order, so we can begin,” she says, shuffling a few loose papers on the lectern. “If you have anyone joining us for the vows-“

Scully feels a pang of misplaced shame at the question, glancing down at her feet.

Mulder reaches out and takes Scully’s hand. “Just us today,” he says, giving the woman a tender smile that’s just the right amount of bashful. “We’re eloping.”

He’s an artist, Scully thinks absently, watching him work his subtle magic on the officiant. He could almost pass for lovesick.

The woman smiles back, looking touched. “Very romantic,” she enthuses, glancing between them. “Well, then let’s begin, shall we? Please face each other and join hands.”

Scully turns slowly; despite the crisp layers of fabric covering her body, she feels strangely exposed as she moves to face Mulder. She takes a deep breath and reaches out. Mulder takes her hands in his, his palms wide and warm around hers. He gives her arms the gentlest of tugs, requesting her attention.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Look at me.”

She tilts her chin up and looks into his eyes, and a whisper of peace passes her by.

“You ready?” he murmurs.

His hands anchor her, hold her in place, keep her from drifting away. “Yes,” she says through parched lips. It’s not really a lie if she wants it to be true.

Mulder gives her a soft smile, and Scully feels the room shrink around them, sucking the air out of her lungs.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate Fox and Dana, and their commitment to each other,” Linda announces, even though they’re alone in the room. “Usually at this part of the ceremony I’d say a few words, but-“

“No need,” Scully says softly. “It’s just us.”

“Right,” the woman replies. There’s an awkward silence before she clears her throat and continues. “Do you, Fox William, take this woman, Dana Katherine, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health-“ Mulder squeezes Scully’s hands then, and she feels a prickle of tears in her eyes. “-until death do you part?”

Mulder must have noticed Scully’s eyes watering, because his brows furrow in concern.

“Mr. Mulder,” the officiant prompts gently.

“I-I do,” he says, almost an aside. He leans closer to Scully. “Are you alright?” he whispers.

His attention is overwhelming, like the lightest touch stinging an open wound. She nods.

“Can I offer you a handkerchief?” Linda asks.

“No, it’s fine, I have tissues,” Scully replies. She composes herself, glancing at the officiant. “You can continue.”

“Do you, Dana Katherine, take this man, Fox William, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

Mulder’s right thumb circles briefly over her knuckle in a calming gesture, and Scully feels the contact go straight to her heart.

Please let this be real, just once, she prays nonsensically. “I do.”

Mulder gives her a reassuring nod, and she lets out a half breath.

“Please present the rings,” the officiant says. “I assume you have them?”

“In our respective pockets,” Mulder confirms. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a little velvet box, snapping it open.

“Please place the ring on the third finger of Dana’s left hand, and say ‘please accept this ring as a sign of my commitment’.”

Mulder murmurs the vow as he guides the ring onto her finger; gold, with a dainty pearl and little diamonds clustered together in the center.

It’s beautiful and perfect and exactly what she would have wanted if she ever had the chance to choose, and they’re so close to doing this right. So close and yet miles off target.

This may not be a real marriage in many respects; she and Mulder will be living a truth no one can see. But for her, it would be real. Even if he never held her hands again, she has them now; and she can promise everything she has left if she wants to.

This may be her last chance; so she lifts his left hand, slides his band onto his finger, and pretends.

“By the power vested in me by the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant states. “You may now seal your commitment with a kiss.”

Oh.

Scully had somehow gotten through the entire morning without realizing this moment would actually come, and she’s suddenly embarrassed. She glances at Mulder to telegraph to him it’s okay, you don’t have to, you can kiss my cheek or forehead, my lips are so dry-

But her Mulder always commits to an act, consequences be damned. He sways momentarily, as though he can sense her hesitation, then leans down and guides her closer by their clasped hands.

His lips are so soft and warm on hers, the kiss tender and familiar. He kisses her with the ease of a practiced lover, placing his mouth against hers in exactly the right way. She feels her entire body relax, pins in a lock yielding around the perfect key.

He draws back, and she returns to the heaviness of the room and the tension in her spine, clarity cutting into her.

That was no cautious, dry peck of a dutiful friend. That was the kiss of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing, and Scully immediately wants him to do it again.

If only this were real, that there was no tumor slowly pushing into her brain, that she could take this beautiful man and his pillowy lips home to her bed. Her face heats up at the thought, and she looks down at the hand clasped in his.

They’re married, but he’s not hers.

[shorkbrian]

Hooked

I cannot stop thinking about!!! Tendou in the desert. Mainly because I went for a walk and found a bunch of creepy stuff, and Tendou would fit right into the creepy-desert-aesthetic. (also..... he’d be the type to have a meth trailer out in the middle of nowhere lol)

(What to expect - bad writing, a dead body, Tendou being weird. No NSFW)

He’s just absolutely batshit crazy. There’s no explanation for his actions.

Like you go for a walk in the mountains, intent on seeing a beautiful, iconic desert sunset, skies dyed pink, purple, orange and red.

It gets dark faster than you anticipated though, and you’re left trying to stumble back to your car in the pitch black night, temperature quickly dropping.

And of course, you aren’t prepared at all. It’s the desert, it isn’t supposed to get cold. So you’re shivering, freezing, skin going numb, starting to feel a bit sluggish as you wonder how the fuck it’s so fucking cold.

There’s a light off in the distance, maybe your car? Had you left the light on?

Stumbling closer, tripping over rocks and trying to avoid cactus, you try to focus on the light, on the outline. It almost looks too high to be your car.

Then you hit the dirt, foot twisting over a rock, causing you to crash onto your side, landing your hip directly onto a cactus. You screech at the stinging pain that stabs into your hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurts to stand up, and you can’t even assess the damage done, because it’s dark and as soon as you try to feel your hip, sharp spines make you cry out, pulling your hand back.

All that’s left for you to do is cry as you make your way towards the light, hoping, praying it’s your car.

As you limp closer, tears dripping down your face at the pain of the cactus spines, the cold, your now-sore ankle, you quickly discern that the light’s source comes from a house.

Specifically, a trailer.

There’s junk everywhere, piles of it, and you trip over a few stray.... well, you can’t really make out what it is, with how dark it is. But you make it to the door.

And yeah, this is super creepy. You’re out in the middle of nowhere, it’s dark, with no flashlight, no jacket. You’re vulnerable, but you’re so freaking cold, and you think there’s blood on your leg from where you’ve been stabbed with the cactus spines.

You need help.

So you gather up the courage, pray that there’s someone home, that it’s not a serial killer, and knock on the door of the trailer.

There’s a loud thump, high pitched, muffled cursing, then some shuffling. The clicking of locks on the door, and then it swings open, revealing a man holding a shotgun.

Well fuck.

He’s lanky, thin and wirey, wild red hair tangled on top of his head. Large, hooded eyes squint at you sleepily, before the man cocks his head.

“You lost?”

“Uhm, yeah..... hi.” You sniffle out, and the man’s eyes visibly widen as he realizes you’re crying, in nothing but a short sleeve shirt and a pair of pants, standing out in the cold.

The inside of the trailer is warm, and it makes your cheeks, ears, and frozen hands tingle as feeling begins returning to them. How had it gotten so cold in the fucking desert?

The man introduces himself as Tendou Satori, deputy of Shiratorizawa county. He’s not lying to you either, has the badge, the uniform - it even explains the shotgun.

He clicks his tongue when you limp inside, as light falls upon your hip and shows your jeans darkened with blood. Tells you to warm up first, sit in front of the heater vent, then he’ll help you with the cactus.

“What’re you doing way out here? City’s kinda far.”

“I was gonna watch the sunset, take pictures ‘n stuff.” You offered, wrapping the blanket he had provided more firmly around yourself. His gaze makes you uncomfortable, and you’re not sure why. It’s not like he’s going to do anything bad, he’s a police deputy.

His eyes are so flat though, still hooded even though he’s very much awake. Maybe that’s just the way he looks, but it’s a bit creepy.

“Didn’t think it’d get dark as fast as it did? Is that why you were wanderin’ around out there?”

You nodded. “Didn’t know it could get so cold either.”

Tendou chuckles, high pitched, and you wince. He sounds like a creepy funhouse clown when he laughs like that. “Ehehe, lots of people get caught off guard by desert weather. Think it’s hot all the time, can’t even imagine that it gets a bit chilly. You’re lucky I’m posted up here, otherwise you’d be a popsicle by morning!”

He was so nonchalant about the idea of you freezing to death, you didn’t know how to respond.

Luckily, you had warmed up enough to stop shaking, teeth no longer clattering together. Tendou told you to stay put while he got supplies to fix up “Your little owie!”

It was much more than a ‘little’ wound.

The trailer was filled with thick awkwardness as Tendou asked you to peel off your pants so he could get to the spines embedded in your skin. He didn’t seem to understand that you felt a little embarrassed, didn’t even turn his back as you slowly pushed them to your ankles, wincing as they dragged over your bloodied hip.

“Ok-ay! Now, this’ll hurt, so try not to scream a whole bunch, right?”

And then he was digging in with tweezers, delicately extracting cactus spines from your puffy, swollen hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurt, badly, and you started crying again, much to your embarrassment. Tendou didn’t seem to mind, kept his eyes fixed on your bloody leg as he quickly tended to it.

“I’ll be done soon, don’t worry. You’ll have to hydrate a bunch after I’m done though.”

“Why does it hurt so much? Are they poisonous?” You yelped as the man tugged on a particularly painful spine, furrowing his brows in concentration as he pulled it out.

“Oh! It’s cause they’re like little meat hooks.” He looked up at you, smiling, holding his most recent extraction with his tweezers so you could see. “They get pretty attached once they get in you, hehe, but I’ll make you better.”

Forty minutes later had Tendou finishing up, finally deeming you cactus-free after a thorough inspection. He had plucked out the large spines with tweezers, before running his hand over your skin, stilling you when you flinched, explaining that he was feeling for the small needles.

You felt insanely uncomfortable, with his hands and face that close to such an intimate area. 

“All do-ne!” The man sang, straightening his back, giving you a gleaming smile. His lips stretched too far over his teeth. “Now, I’ll get you some pants, and some water. You want to sleep in the bed with me? Or on the couch?”

What?

The panicked confusion must be evident on your face, because Tendou cackled, standing up, towering over you. 

“Can’t go back out there, you wanna die? Gotta stay until mornin’.”

“The couch please.” The choice was easy, and Tendou nodded, before disappearing through a doorway into a dark room, coming back with an armful of blankets. He tossed a pair of pajama pants at you from the pile, but you hesitated in putting them on.

“Um.... Mr.? Can I have something to wipe off the blood?” It was crusted on your leg, dried and dark brown now.

Tendou turned from making up the couch, blinked at you slowly, looked at your leg. “Guess I should do that!” 

You had to wait a bit longer, until he had arranged the couch to his liking, before the strange man fetched a wet washcloth to wipe off your leg with.

It was warm, and he was thorough as he sponged off the blood. The way he licked his lips while doing so made you feel a bit uneasy.

When you were finally clean, you tugged on your new pants quickly, finally feeling a bit more comfortable now that you were no longer exposed.

“Wanna eat before you go to bed? I have-” Tendou bent to shuffle through his fridge. “-Oh! I have applesauce! and crackers! Yum Yum!” Both items were held aloft triumphantly. 

Who kept crackers in the fridge?

You just wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m good, thank you though.”

“Okay, beddy-bye time then I guess.” Why did he talk so childishly? 

You tried to relax as he turned out the lights, bidding you good night as he shuffled back through the doorway, apparently into his bedroom.

Tomorrow you’d find your car, and everything would be fine.

-----

Tendou was sitting on the couch when you woke up, your bare feet in his lap.

“Good morning~!” His voice was so loud, you were wincing at the volume, at the sunlight streaming through the dingy curtains, at your first good look at his trailer - he’d kept it dark last night, only turning on one light.

It was clean, well, as clean as a trailer could be. Nothing suspicious or worrisome.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The man questioned, suddenly leaning far too close, his hand sliding up your calf.

“Oh-uhm-” You stuttered, blushing at the proximity, the foreign touch. “I should go find my car...”

Tendou rolled his eyes, backing off quickly. “Too boring. Also too far. It’ll hurt to walk, you won’t be able to make it.”

You raised an eyebrow, immediately testing out his claim, hissing in pain as soon as you moved your leg.

Apparently, it was swollen and sore.

He was right, walking hurt, and you barely hobbled to the little bathroom without Tendou’s assistance. Maybe he could go find your car and bring it here? It had to be close by, you hadn’t been walking for that long last night...

“So!” Tendou clapped his hands, and you started, almost bumping into him as he stood, leaning over you on the couch. “Tell me about yourself, it’s been so long since I’ve had anyone over. You have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Where’s your family? I’ve always wanted someone to keep me company here.”

“Woah, wait, what?”

Tendou chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re going to stay here with me now! I think we should get to know each other a bit, don’t you?”

Staying with him? Here? What was going on?

“Um, Mr.-”

“Tendou... or Satori, your choice.” The man interjected, before moving to flop down next to you on the couch.

“Tendou-” You continued. “-I can’t stay here. I need to find my car, and drive back to the city, back to my home. My roommate will be worried...”

“Home is here.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, it shocked you silent.

“You had a roommate though? How fun!!” He chirped, and you didn’t miss the emphasis on “had”. “You ever have sex with them?”

Tendou had moved in a second, pressed to your side, his face too close to yours, and you panicked.

“I gotta go. Really, I’m sorry, thank you for helping me out last night but I need to get going-” You were on your feet, ignoring the pain lancing through your leg as you hobbled quickly to the door, throwing it open.

A hand tugged on your shirt, pulling you off balance and forcing you to step backwards. 

“You’re leaving? But I did so much for you, you haven’t even paid me back...”

His grip on your shirt was firm, but you wriggled and writhed until he was forced to let go. “I-I promise I’ll pay you when I get to my car. My wallet’s there, you can have everything in it-”

You pushed forward, through the door, barely dodging Tendou’s grabby hands. This wasn’t right, there was something off about him, you needed to get away.

“I don’t want you to go.” But you weren’t listening to his suddenly deep, serious voice. Instead, you were frantically looking around, trying to figure out which way you had come from last night. 

There was nothing but cactus, rocks, and dirt.

“I was wishing for company the other day, y’know? It gets so lonely here, the sheriff isn’t a good conversationalist.”

The sheriff?

You whirled around, Tendou standing in the door, looking off to the side. You followed his gaze, saw the lawn chair, the upturned bucket next to it, two empty bottles of beer. There were more bottles littering the ground.... there was another lawn chair-

-and the fully-dressed body of a sheriff, half-decayed, sat in it.

You didn’t even think to scream; who would hear you out here? All you did was run, adrenaline roaring through your veins and letting you forget about your wounded leg.

“Wait!” Tendou called after you gleefully, bouncing out of the doorway. “You’re hurting his feelings! Ahehehe!!”

The man was deranged.

And you very quickly realized that there was no where to run.

Nowhere to hide.

-----

You couldn’t see your car, or anything that looked familiar. The only sounds in the air was the panting of your own breath, your feet thudding slowly underneath you as your initial shock wore off, as the adrenaline left you, as the pain returned.

It had only been a few minutes since you took off, speeding away from the unhinged madman. You were left wondering if he was really the deputy - maybe he’d killed the deputy, stolen his uniform.

Then you wondered why there was a dead sheriff in his yard. Had no one come looking for him? Where was the sheriff’s car? What was even going on?

It’s warm, the sun beginning to beat down on you relentlessly, and you curse the desert. Curse it’s unbearable heat during the day, it’s frigid temperatures at night. 

“Pretty girl!!! I found you~!” Tendou’s shrill voice had you jerking your head around, frantically trying to see where the man was. Had he been following you? Where was he, there was nothing he could hide behind!

“You want to go for a ride in my fancy car? Is that it? I’ll take you to dinner, then we’ll kiss under the moon!” The man cackled, and you determined that the voice was coming from your left.

But... there was nothing there?

Tentative, painful steps forward, towards his voice. Where was he? If you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t fight him. You needed to know where the creep was.

A careful step.

A careful step.

A careful st-

A terrified scream tore from your lungs as your foot seemingly plunged into thin air, immediately landing you on your butt as you slide down a steep incline.

It was a ravine.

You tumbled down into it’s depths, getting scraped by rocks and brush. Luckily, you slammed into something solid, metal, and it stopped your tumultuous motion.

Gaining your bearings, you stared hard at the door of the police car you’d just collided with, before a hand popped out of the window, waving at you.

“Beep beep!” Tendou snickered, his flat eyes taking in your disheveled appearance. “Let’s mess around, I’ve heard doing it in a car is fun.”

There’s no one around to hear you scream.

[voltagesmutter]

Obey Me: Beelzebub - A kinky Secret Santa gift exchange.

Fandom: Obey Me Pairing: Beelzebub x MC (F) Prompt: 4th December - A kinky Secret Santa gift exchange. From @voltage-vixen​ christmas list. Warning: Sex-toys, Mammon Idiocy. Notes: For my raffle winner 6 @buzzybeebee​​​ - Thank you again for entering.

Torn wrapping paper lay in bundles on the floor, empty glasses of demonus sat upon the table whilst the sound of laughter filled the room. 

“Oh this one is small!” Asmo’s voice squealed as he picked up the little parcel beneath the tree. Written in gold letters was her name, Asmo turning and holding it out to her, ‘It’s for you!”. 

When Lucifer had banned secret santa, Asmo had the ingenious idea of having a secret ‘Adult secret santa’. “It’s not the same as secret santa” he had pouted whenever someone said no, but in the end all of his brothers had come around. Of course Lucifer had found out about it, but was too busy with work to care anymore. 

So far Mammon had received gold condoms, the gift from the girl had made him go redder than the red spider stew they had had for lunch. Satan had been given a ‘New position of the Day’ calendar and Leviathan had been given two stress balls in the shape of boobs with a ‘closest ya'll get to the real things’ note attached.  

“I’m so excited!” She laughed, tearing away the paper, only for her eyes to widen at what was wrapped inside. All eyes focused on her as they questioned what she had. A tubed plastic lipstick. Only it wasn’t for the lips on her face...

“Tsch! What even is it!” Mammon grabbing the lipstick and waving it about in the air.

“Mammon! Stop it!” Her face burning up as she reached for it. Mammon rolled his eyes as he held it close to his face.

“It’s just a lipstick, what's so wrong with it,” He tutted. “Not very adult compared to the tit squeezers I got for Levi,”.

“I knew they were from you!” Levi threw one at his head from the other side of the circle they were sitting in. Mammon growled, ready to retaliate as the young girl tried hopelessly once more to get back the item. 

“Hey! There’s a hole in this, it’s broken! Where’s the colour at,” He swiped the red against his hand, not realising it was plastic. Asmo snickered, snorting as he was unable to hold in his laughter at the situation. 

“Mammon, please just-!” She squealed, reaching out but it was too late. Mammon twisted the base and the sound of buzzing filled the air. She was mortified. Mammon’s face went even redder than hers, looking between the vibrating lipstick in his hand then at her before quickly throwing it at her. The toy vibrated in her lap as she turned it off and shoved in her jacket pocket.

-

The rest of the night ended rather quickly, Beel, Belphegor and Asmo all opening their presents in record time. Mammon not saying a word the rest of the night. It was unclear who had who for the gifts, the group dispersing after the final gifts had been opened. A bag of gummies in the shape of dicks for Beel, a grow your own pair of boobs for Belph and some penis shaped straws for Asmo. 

The young girl has wracked her brain over who had gifted her the toy, determined it was Asmo. Mammon could barely look her in the eye with embarrassment. Although some strange behaviour from Beel did make her question if he knew the culprit. Normally, he would come grab her at midnight to get “second dinner” but really she just went to sit and talk to him whilst he snacked on a second helping of food. The pair growing fond of each other, becoming closer as they conversed over deep-late night talks. But tonight, she heard his footsteps past her room as he wandered to the kitchen alone. 

“Beel?” She called out, walking bear footed to the kitchen, wrapping her jacket tightly around her. The house felt colder in its winter months, shorts and a tank top no longer seeming like redeemable pyjama choices. A grunt followed, Beel hunching into the fridge and grovelling a piece of Demon turkey into his mouth.

“Oh, hey.” He turned, shutting the door as he swallowed the piece of meat in his mouth. 

“You didn’t come get me, is everything okay?” She pouted slightly, taking a few steps in. Beel stepping backwards as she did. Something was up.

“Yeah, it’s all fine.” Beel licking his fingers clean, her eyes following the lean muscle of his tongue wetting his hand.

“You sure? You always grab me for midnight snacks,”.

“I just thought, after earlier you might not want to come.” His cheeks blushing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh.. it’s a shame we didn’t get to find out who had each other.” She pressed, determined to find out who had gifted her the small vibrator.

“Yeah, maybe we can tell each other next year?” He laughed, the girl taking another step towards him, only a few footsteps between them.

“Yeah maybe.” She laughed with him, closing the distance between them, “Ooooor, you can tell me had me.” Beel went red instantly.

“How- how would I know?” He stuttered.

“Well I know I had Mammon, Mammon had Levi, Belph caved and told me he had Satan, Levi had you because he ordered them when I was with him so that leaves Satan, you and Asmo, and I presume you had Asmo, Satan had Belphie and Asmo had me?” Beel’s face grew redder, his face blending into the same shade of his hair.

“I-Uh, I really don’t know.”

“Well can you not just tell me who you had?” She questioned. Beel refused to answer as she stamped her foot in protest and whined his name. He wasn’t giving in so easily and she needed to use her knowledge of him to get him to talk. She opened the fridge and grabbed the first thing she saw.

“Tell me or the pudding gets it!” Holding a plate in her hand with plummed toad pudding on it, ready to tip it into the sink. Beel’s face lit up with horror as he went to step forward, her free hand pushing out against his chest in an attempt to stop him.

“___” He mustered, his lip trembling at the plate, his eyes darting between it and her eyes. 

“One chance Beelzebub.” Her tone was strict. It felt like time had stopped as Beel grumbled. Wasting food to him was a sin of its own kind, even though he towered over the girl, her action held more power than the physical strength of him. She had him trapped, right where she wanted him.

“I!” He reached out but her hand titled, a crumb falling from the plate making him whine. “Okay alright, yes, I had you! It was you,” It was her turn to go red, freezing on the spot as he never thought it would be Beel who had brought her the toy.

“I- overheard you last week talking to Asmo, about how long it has been since ya… figured it could help with the situation,” Beel refusing to look her in the eye, instead focusing on the plate in her hand. He slowly leaned forward, wrapping his hand around hers as he pried the plate away from her and set it down gently on the surface beside them. 

“I see.” Slowly lowering her arm, an awkward silence settling between them. “And… and did you hear anything else in that conversation?” The look he gave her told her his answer, he had indeed heard her telling Asmo how she wanted Beel to eat her like he did a serving of food. Of course she said it jokingly, but she still meant it. “R-right, well I’ll.. I’ll leave you too it.”

As she turned to take her leave, out of sheer embarrassment, a strong grip on her lower arm stopped her. Beel reaching out to her with a small hunger in his eyes, like he could devour her on the spot. “Don’t go.” Pulling her close to him, her hands sprawling out to feel the flex of his muscles beneath his top. “I could.. always.. have another serving of dessert,” His eyes sparkling with the true meaning of his words, pulling the girl into his heated gaze.

-

“What’s this?” Beel had a dangerous smirk on his face when he pushed her jacket off, a small thud hitting the dining room as he fished into the pocket to pull out the lipstick vibrator. “Let’s test out how good it’s reviews really were, shall we?”. 

All the girl could was nod, her hair slightly tousled, eyes heavy with lust, lips slightly bruised from the sheer force of Beel’s lips against hers. She looked positively wrecked and they’d only just begun. 

He leaned down to kiss her once more, this time softer as his fingers played with the edge of her top before lifting it enough to display her perky breasts. A low whine filled the room to have his mouth move down and latch onto a pebbled nipple, tongue swirling and teeth grazing over them. The motion he repeated on her other breast, a gush rushed between her legs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d be touched by another, her arousal making her thighs grow slicker with each passing second. - it also didn’t help that one of the most beautiful creatures to ever set foot in Devildom was toying with her clit over the thin material of her shorts. 

“Beel… please,” Her hands fisted into red hair as he pressed kisses down her exposed stomach, her shorts quickly finding themselves on the floor. Her legs spread to him a view of her wet folds, scent hitting him and making his pupil blow wide open. She was bare and all his for the taking. 

The large wooden table didn’t even creak as she fell backwards, back arched with her head thrown back resting on her elbows. No matter how hard she tried, the moans still left her mouth and echoed through the empty room paired with the light buzzing. Beel cupping the side of her thigh as he stood between them, the other hand bringing the vibrator up and down her slit. He teased her by holding to the places where she was most sensitive, watching her hips buck as a throaty “oh god” left her.

“Do you want to know the best purpose of this?” He smirked lightly, pulling away from her and resting it on her thigh, watching as she whined at the loss of contact. He pressed a chaste kiss to her exposed neck, nibbling soft as she clutched his forearm. Spreading her folds with two fingers in the shape of a ‘v’, he lined the hole of the toy directly over her clit and twisted the base. 

The noise that left her was one that he needed to hear again, the sound of pure pleasure. The hand on her thigh moved to press the lower of her back, keeping her in place as she squirmed, her hips bucking violently off the table. A string of strong curses left her lips, growing higher and higher in octaves until she trembled. 

His name left her in a way that was so sinful, it made him rutt his hips against the table, his cock swelling as it ached to be where the small bullet was. Wood curled as she clawed viciously at the table, body curling inwards as pulsed around nothing. The strength of her orgasm being an intense feeling she had never reached with her fingers alone. Her head slumped forward onto the solid planes of his chest, whimpering highly as he kept the bullet tightly against her.

It was too much, her hips spasming as her thighs trembled. It felt almost electrifying, her back arching to the point she feared it could snap as currents of electric shocks danced along her. Not even able to control the noises that left her, purely erotic as she held on tightly to his shirt for her sanity. Tears rolled down her cheeks in fat blobs, tongue lolling to the side of her mouth whilst drool dripped from the corner as a white heat took over her body. 

Physically shaking, her limbs going numb as she came. The pressure inside bursting into a thousand pleasurable flames, leaving her in a state of pure bliss without the ability to think. Her second releasing soaked the table beneath her, a thick puddle forming as it spread, Beel’s clothed erection resting against it becoming drenched. His fingers coaxed in her essence and the light grey of his bottoms stained, his searing hard on becoming more visible from as the damp clothes outlined his cock. 

A growl left one of them, unsure who, as Beel attacked her lips pushing her down flat against the table. Releasing himself from the confinement of his trousers and hooking her legs over his elbows as he gripped her waist. Pre-release smeared against her as he rubbed through her velvety folds, coating himself before lining up against her. A meek, “Please Beelzebub,” was the confirmation he needed to continue, pushing into her as she stretched around him. 

Beel’s appetite was ravenous and he was still currently starving. The night between them, only just starting.

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[elysianightsss]

When Dusk begins.

Part Three.

Warnings: swearing, none yet but there will be smut in upcoming chapters.

SERIES MASTERLIST.

You watched Ahkmen hug his mother tightly, this wasn’t a normal hug and she could tell. Asking him what was wrong he muttered a nothing and hugged tighter. He hadn’t seen her in thousands of years. Nobody could blame him for the tears in his eyes.

You however were busy eyeing your modern clothes that had been discarded on the floor with panic. Moving carefully not to interrupt the delicate moment, you pushed the clothes behind a pillar. You leant up against the post just as the zipper of your jeans scrapped across the floor. Both the ancient beings looked you. Before you could apologise the Queen spoke.

“Who’s this?” She inquired with a raised eyebrow but a soft look in her eyes. You stumbled over your words.

“I’m...Naat.” You smiled, ignoring Ahk frowning at you curiously.

“Named after the Goddess of justice and order. Do you live up to it?” She asked with amusement.

“I try to.” You cleared your throat nervously, thinking about how you just lied to the Queen of Egypt.

“And how do you know my son?” She stepped close to you, the sound of metal clinking together as she walked.

“She’s my suitor.” Ahk rushed the words out quickly, having no idea where they came from. You internally screamed at what he had just said.

“But what about...”

“I don’t wish to be wed to my sister. I choose her.” He spoke sternly but with a certain softness. His eyes bored into yours making you feel all tingly.

“If that’s what makes you happy and your father agrees.” She raised a hand to caress his cheek. Flashing you both a smile and leaving. You both stood in silence for a few seconds.

“Your suitor!” You whispered yelled at him. His eyes closed as he cringed.

“It was all I could think of.” His pleading eyes were testing you. Making you forget about your frustration.

“Great.” You huffed, pushing your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

“Why did you lie about your name?” He questioned with a inquisitive look.

“Y/N is a modern name. You told me to blend in, that’s what I was doing.” You gestured to the gown he had so graciously shoved into your hands earlier. He seemed to smile at this.

“I didn’t say earlier, you look beautiful. It suits you very well.” He nodded more to himself as his eyes once again scanned over your body.

“You’re going to have to stop doing that.” You muttered turning around to inspect the room. It’s was very spacious and open.

White pillars here and there, with gold engravings. Yellow vases with no flowers rested on what seemed to be gold end tables. The floor was a red marble that made your feet surprisingly warm. A golden bed frame in the shape of a large square was displayed in the middle of the room. The red bedding consisted of a single sheet and no pillows.

You examined the platform that the bed rested on. You walked up the steps that led to the bed. Reaching out to touch the sheets, it felt so soft reminding you of the exhaustion you were beginning to feel after today’s events. Unexpectedly you felt the gentle puff of air repeatedly hitting your exposed shoulder. The tropical scent once again consumed you making you feel a little weaker than before.

“Tired?” He mumbled close to the shell of your ear. You nodded closing your a eyes and taking a deep breath in.

“Exhale.” He reminded you. You did with a breathy chuckle.

“I know how to breath.” A playful tone filled your voice. He hummed in acknowledgment.

“This is my room. This is my bed, you may sleep here if you’re fatigued.” You turned around at his words, not expecting him to be so close. It surprised you making you fall down onto the bed in surprise. He let out a laugh as you sat embarrassed. You poked him in the stomach with a laugh of your own.

“I must admit, I am pretty tired.” You rubbed your face with your hands.

“You sleep, it’s night now anyway. I’m going to find my Father.” He began marching to the door.

“Wait! why?”

“I need to talk to him and subtly ask him if he could know anything about this.” He said.

“You’re going to subtly ask your Father if he knows anything about time travel?” You scoffed.

“Yes. Go to sleep.” You straightened up and his tone. Not missing the little smirk that graced his lips as he left the room.

“Men.” You rolled your eyes.

You closed your eyes for what felt like a few minutes. When you woke Ahkmenrah was staring out into the distance. The desert surely wasn’t that interesting. Your feet carried your over to his beautiful figure.

“What are you looking at?” You ask intrigued. He turned to you with a smile.

“Morning.” You frowned.

“How long did I sleep for?”

“All night. You were still asleep when I came from back from-“

“Asking your father, how did that go?” He chuckled at the way you felt oh so comfortable to cut him off.

“He didn’t divulged any useful information.” He sighed walking over to the bed and sitting down.

“Oh. Have you slept?” He shook his head at the question. You thought for a moment. “Do you sleep?” He looked at your with an amused smile. “I just figured since the whole being awake at night, and yanno not existing for four thousand years.”

“I’ve had a nap now and then. That’s mostly because there’s nothing to do at the museum.” He looked back out at the desert, right over your shoulder.

“Nothing to do? It’s a museum! Explore, learn.” He huffed a tiny laugh, his eyes switching back to yours.

“I’ve explored every inch of that place, learned all there is to learn.” He scanned over your figure for a moment. “You’re new. Unexpected. Something I haven’t acquired the knowledge of, yet.”

Yet.

“There’s not much to acquire.” You shook your head, your lips turned upwards.

“That’s not what I see.” He mumbled.

“Oh my god. I just realised, if we’re here in this...your room, then where is the you from this time?” You raised your eyebrows. His eyes widened with realisation. A knock interrupted your worry.

“Your highness, your Father wishes to see you and your suitor in the throne room.” A voice from outside the door spoke and then it was silent again.

You walked through the palace, arms linked. Ahk kept your close in case of danger or an ‘attack’ as he so graciously put it. Servants, men and women dropped to the floor and bowed when you both walked by. It was a strange feeling to have someone bow to you, but when you reminded yourself that it wasn’t you they were kneeling to, it made things less awkward.

“That’s,” you frowned when you had stopped walking, following Ahkmenrah’s eye line, you spotted his brother, Kahmunrah. And his two sisters, Keket and the youngest Hehet. You realised how strange and hard it must be to see your family after so long. Turning to stand in front of Ahk, you cup his face tilting it so his eyes met yours.

A soft smile graced your lips, your eyes held such sincerity that it made Ahk’s breath hitch when he stared into them; acknowledging the beautiful swirls of colour that always drowned him when gazed at you. He was so enthralled that he almost missed the sound of your sweet voice.

“Everything’s okay.” He couldn’t help but lean in closer, as if in a trance. The dim ambiance and warmth of the blazing fires that lit the hallway. The silky look of your hair when it moved gently in the breeze. The velvety touch of your skin against his. He couldn’t help but fall deep under your spell. Leaning closer.

“Ahkmen!” You both jumped back at the sound of his mothers voice. He quickly re-adjusted himself before linking yours arms once again and striding into the room. Such confidence surrounded him as he walked it made you feel small. Both of you kneeled before the King and Queen of Egypt. A booming voice bellowed throughout the hall.

“My son has chosen his wife! Today we celebrate! Next week they marry!” The room was filled with cheers.

Your stomached did a flip, looking at Ahk who was already staring at you.

This was fucking insane.

[donutloverxo]

Nude

Run through - Steve wants to try new things so he takes a painting class with a nude painting subject. Only the woman he has to paint are you, Peppers assistant and his crush.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve Rogers was many things. He was an artist, an amateur cook (who really does try), a loyal friend, a good citizen, a soldier. Yet when people looked at him, they only ever saw the captain. His friends called him cap. He'd go weeks without hearing his own name. Sometimes he felt the lines were blurred. When did Steve Rogers end and Captain America begin?

He had a big wake up call when he confronted Tony, saying he wasn’t iron man, it was an alter ego. To which Tony said that Steve was basically captain America. And Steve couldn’t argue or disagree, because it was true. He didn’t want to lose himself in his work anymore than he already had. His therapist told him to make healthy boundaries, which is what he’s going to do.

So he ordered some colors and pencils online and got to work on his art, for the first time in a long time. It was exhilarating and freeing. He could lose himself in it, go on for hours without thinking and seeing anything but the colors and his canvas. Which was extremely rare for him. He could rarely ever shut his brain off or run from his traumatic memories.

Everyone could see the visible change in him. How he seemed happier. Clint even joked about it saying

“Cap must be getting some”

To which Steve only snorted. There was no room for anything as complicated as a relationship or sex in his life, not right now.

But wouldn’t it be nice? To have a woman to hold and to paint. To love and care for. He didn’t let himself delve too much into that fantasy. Because even if it was a nice escape once in a while, he knew that while Steve Rogers might make a good partner, Captain America would certainly not. He would never subject any woman to deal with either of them.

With some encouragement from Sam and his old friends he started attending painting classes at his alma mater, the Brooklyn College, every Saturday evening. It helped him make some friends. He didn’t know if he could call them friends. Most of them were too different from him. They seemed like different types of 'tortured artists'

When he heard that there would be a nude subject to paint the next class, he was a little bit hesitant. Such a thing would’ve been scandalous in the 40s. But he was trying to open himself up and that meant pushing his comfort zone, even just a little bit.

When he set up his canvas, oil colors and brushes that Saturday he expected male subject. He didn’t however expect to hear a woman’s voice. He was too focused on his set up to look up, whatever. He didn’t care if it was a man or a woman. There wouldn't be anything erotic about it. This was strictly professional and educational.

He looked up to take a good look at his subject, when he felt as if his soul was knocked out of him. There you stood, his crush, Pepper Potts' assistant, and the woman who turned him down.

“You know back in my day they used to play elevator music” He said to drown out the awkward silence. Even after all this time, he still didn’t know how to talk to women. He had had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You were always so funny and sweet. Asking him and everyone about their day, if they were doing well. Always willing to help others.

When he let it slip that he likes banana bread, you baked him a whole loaf of it, which chocolate chips so ‘so you think of me when you have them. They’re my signature of sorts' you had said proudly. Of course he’d be thinking of you when he ate it. Overthinking actually. Wondering If you like him as he likes you, or if you’re just being your sweet self.

“Oh we still have that!” You chirped “but not in um professional or business buildings like these”

He just nodded. Tapping his foot impatiently. You would get off in just six floors it was now or never. “Hey uh – what are you doing this Friday?” he asked shyly.

“Oh just watching some Gordon Ramsay with my dog probably. I have no life” you laughed at your own self depreciating joke “Why?” you tilted your head.

“I was thinking, maybe we could get dinner? Only if you uh – you wanted to, you're free to say no” he promised. Maybe he should’ve asked you to ‘hang out' or 'for a coffee' like most people these days. But he felt that was no way to treat a lady, especially one like you.

“Oh Steve” he was already disappointed upon hearing your tone “I would’ve loved to. But even though we don’t work together, it wouldn’t look good you know? I mean I don’t care much for 'my image'” You said making air quotes “But I don’t, it’ll be complicated” You looked completely defeated. As if it hurt you to say no more than it hurt him to hear it.

“I completely understand” He nodded “no hard feelings” he gave you a smile as he watched you walk away. It did break his heart a bit, but he’d respect your feelings.

He looked at you taking off your satin robe revealing your bare body to the class of twenty or so artists. His breathe hitched. Your hair flowing down your back and covering a bit of your left breast, your soft stomach and thighs, the patch of soft curls at your core, your nipples hard against the chilly air, and how your stomach rolled a bit as you sat uncomfortably on the stool. You were beautiful. A work of art even. There was absolutely no way he could do you justice. He started drawing an outline on his canvas. You would very well be his best subject.

You looked around a bit, your fingers holding onto the stool for dear life so you could stave off the anxiety and feeling of being so exposed. Then your eyes landed on him. You thought you were dreaming, maybe you didn’t see properly, so you did a double take. Then you were frozen on the spot. There he was, Captain Rogers, the first Avenger, the man you often dreamt about, sitting right in front of you while you were naked as the day you were born.

You had no idea what you should do. This was literally like a nightmare come true. If you flee it would look bad, if you didn’t it might look worse. You decided you’d follow his lead. So you peeked a glance at him from the corner of your eyes and saw him, sketching you? Holy shit Steve Rogers was drawing a nude portrait of you. What has your life become?

You had always been insecure about your body. You knew magazines, porn and movies were meant to feed people lies to get them to buy more things. That didn’t make you feel any less bad about not looking anything like the women in them. You tried to remind yourself that you have many things going for you. Like your supporting family, your loving friends, your cute labrador, your amazing job.

Speaking of your job, exactly why you turned Steve freaking Rogers down! A man that looks like him asking you out and you say no. Your friends flat out laughed in your face at your unfortunate predicament, where the cake is right there but you can't eat it. Now that you thought about it, it was funny.

Your co-workers weren’t kind to you. Even on your best day you didn’t look anything like the women you worked with, who would stab you in the back the first chance the get. You were kind to everyone, but you knew by now not to expect the same treatment back. Which was why you had to say no to the beefy blonde. You didn’t want to be branded as the ‘office slut’.

Which now you were sure you would be. You didn’t know Steve enough to know he’d be willing to keep this a secret. He didn’t seem like someone who would do that to you. But you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

You squirmed and shivered in the chair for a good part of the next two hours. By the end your back was sore and you did everything you could to avoid looking at Steve, only sneaking glances here and there, while he seemed too engrossed in his work.

You had done this a couple of times before, to accept your body for what it is and get comfortable with it. If you weren’t going to love it no one would do it for you. Finally the time was up and the artists were asked to pack up for the day.

You quickly got up from your stool putting the robe back on. You turned your back to Steve, stretching your muscles. You couldn’t wait to lay down on your comfy bed and just get out of here. But you knew you needed to have that inevitable conversation. You probably would never be able to look Steve in the eye after this.

You walked towards him as he was cleaning up his work station. “Fancy seeing you here” You cringed at your embarrassing attempt at a British accent.

“Hey there” He gave you a bashful smile scratching the back of his head “I didn’t expect to see you here”

“Right back at ya” you returned his smile, no longer feeling on edge. It was strange how his presence served to comfort you.

“You do this often” he asked casually. You couldn’t really hear any judgement in his tone, not what you would expect from a hundred year old.

“No not really. It just uh – I’m trying to love myself. Which I already do! Of course” you let out a nervous chuckle “just trying new things and stepping out of my comfort zone”

“That makes two of us” he said as he was done packing his bag, which he was deliberately doing at a slow pace. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Can I... Look at your painting?” You asked nervously. You didn’t know if you wanted to see his interpretation of your naked body, what if it was bad? But what if it was good? What if he was impressed by you...

“Uh it’s not done yet. And frankly I’m not that good”

“I seriously doubt that. I’ve seen the sketches in your office” You caught your slip of tongue. You couldn’t let him know about your borderline unhealthy obsession with him.

“Well, have a look then” he relented showing you his canvas.

You let out a breathe you didn’t even know you were holding at the painting. It was breath-taking. The woman looked like you, but why was she so beautiful and graceful? In the painting she was sitting on a stool, like you, in front of a tree admiring a rose in her hand. She was naked as well. It reminded you of classic Greek paintings where women weren’t perfect, but were celebrated for their imperfections.

“It’s amazing Steve. I – do I look like that?” You stammered not being able to tear your eyes off the painting.

He shook his head at your shock “On the contrary you look much better I’m glad you like it”

“You’re a great artist” you gushed

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen much better” he said humbly.

You would argue with him. But you knew it would be of no use. Looking at the beautiful woman in the painting gave you the surge of confidence you needed “Steve, does the offer for that dinner still stand?” You straightened your back looking up to lock eyes with him.

“Yes” He blurted without even thinking “how about tomorrow evening?” He asked.

“Yes that will be awesome! You can pick me up at seven. I’ll text you the address“ you said making an mental note to do so.

You could hardly wait for your date. You didn’t really care about what your co-workers would think of you. As long as you were happy their opinions didn’t matter.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or send me an ask!

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

This was actually a request. But I can't fir the life of me find the person who requested it. I hope you see it babes❤

[akakeiiji]

Hi it's me again hehehe may i request a sugawara one shot where the reader is a new manager for the team and they have like a massive crush on sugawara and they walked into the gym with him changing his shirt while the others are already training IADKSJSNSSIJSSNS AND THE READER GETS FLUSTERED AND ALL THAT this is too detailed thank u 😗 ilysm

HI SUUNI 💕 I had a lot of fun writing this, it’s so chaotic and cliche but I still love it 

-`,✎ Shirtless Shenanigans — Sugawara Koushi

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Suggestive-ish themes but not really

✂︎・・・masterlist

Suga is always early. All throughout your years of being his classmate, he was never once listed as late in class, sure there were a few close calls but he still managed to keep his record clean for the most part. Perhaps he was aiming to get the perfect attendance award at the end of the year, or maybe he’s just naturally a punctual person.

Despite all this, he was absent today, even Tanaka had arrived already, which is definitely saying something. Suga was usually the one who arrives first during morning practices and opens the gym for the others, but when Daichi and Asahi arrived that day, the gym was, strangely enough, still locked. Luckily, Daichi had the spare key but it was still odd not having him there to greet them.

Asides from that, he wasn’t responding to anyone’s messages, nor did he send any about him being absent that day. You checked your phone again, frowning at the lack of notifications.

The rest of the team just shrugged it off and concluded that he was either playing hooky or had a fever, they continued on with their drills like usual, but your mind kept wandering back to the missing third year.

Perhaps it was the way you kept checking your phone or the way you kept looking over at the gym entrance or the way the corners of your mouth were pulled downwards, because Kiyoko had already deduced what was plaguing your mind.

“Looking for someone?” She said in a teasing tone. A knowing glint in her eyes. You freeze mid-action as you were pulling your phone out again, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Maybe?”

Kiyoko lets out a small chuckle, as you groan frustratedly at being caught, practically pulling your hair. “I just can’t help but worry, you know?”

You continue rambling, waving your hands around as you tell your friend about how ridiculously intense your crush is on the setter, that you don’t even notice the dash of grey zipping past the gym doors.

“—it’s so dumb! I always get distracted when he’s nearby but now I get distracted even when he isn’t even around?!” You let out a defeated wail and rest your head on Kiyoko’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with me?”

Your attention was taken away from your woes when Ennoshita runs over to you and Kiyoko. “Can you guys grab the extra towels in the clubroom? Hinata accidentally spilled his water.” He says, shooting an irksome look at the bickering first years behind him.

Kiyoko goes to stand but you beat her to it. “Nah, I’ll do it, don’t worry.” Maybe getting up to stretch your legs would help you take your mind off of Sugawara, but you decide not to disclose that last bit.

You head out of the rowdy gym and towards the clubroom, only to stop in your tracks when you see the door to the clubroom was left ajar. You scoffed, you made a mental note to lecture the boys later that day and climb up the stairs.

However as you approached the room, a jolt of fear ran down your spine when you heard shuffling from inside. You stood a few feet from the door, eyeing the unfamiliar slippers thrown hastily on the ground in front of it.

You were about to run back and call your cavalry of boys for assistance but when you heard a distant thump and a loud cry of “Ouch!”, you instantly recognized the voice and wave of relief immediately washed over you.

It was only Suga. You clutched your chest as your breathing steadied, thanking the gods that no one had been robbing you guys.

You walk over to the door, chuckling to yourself, and slide it open. “Fashionably late, aren’t—”

Suga immediately whips his head over his shoulder, an aghast look etched on his face. You couldn’t blame him, that would be your reaction as well if someone had just walked in on you changing.

You caught him in a very awkward position. He was standing with his back faced towards you, his light blue pajama pants were pulled down at his ankles, exposing his black boxers. His arms were held up over his head as he was pulling off his grey t-shirt. He was almost completely naked.

You two stand there—frozen, like a deer caught in the headlights—not even able to process the situation. Your wide eyes scan his body before realizing—

Your crush.

Basically naked.

In front of you.

You let out a loud screech and you didn’t know it was even possible but you somehow managed to choke on air.

Suga, despite his embarrassing position, acts on his motherly instincts and goes to rush by your side, forgetting that his pajamas were still on his ankles. He trips over his own pants and before you know it, he crashes onto you, unceremoniously landing with a loud thud.

“Ow!” You groan, your eyes shut tight in the pain of the impact. “Suga, I—”

Your words die in your mouth as you take in the situation. Your eyes widen as you realize that you were laying flat on the ground and that Suga was hovering over you, his arms at either side of your head.

Your brain legitimately short circuits.

Suga looks distressed as he focuses on you, making sure you weren’t hurt or injured, not even paying attention to the fact that you were in such an incriminating position.

“I’m sorry! Are you hurt? Are you—” His eyes widens comically as he begins to process what you already had a few seconds ago. That he was half-naked, laying on top of you in the middle of your clubroom.

He immediately turns a deep shade of crimson and pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling over you, his hands clutched at his red cheeks as he lets out a fervent string of apologies.

You couldn't utter a single word, your ability to speak lost in the overwhelming embarrassment and shock you were feeling. You attempt to get up to run away and throw yourself off a building, but your legs, shaky from the sheer distress you were feeling, gave way.

Just like earlier, you both crash onto the tatami mats again, this time not as loudly and painfully as before.

You open your eyes, this time to find Suga staring up at you a speechless and bashful look on his face.

You swear you could practically feel your soul leaving your body and rising to the afterlife.

You didn’t know how but you turned even redder than before and your heart somehow started thumping in your chest more violently than you could ever remember.

You immediately push yourself up, your hands flat on Suga’s bare chest. “I—I’m sorry—!”

Suga chuckles and pushes himself up with his elbows, you’re about to get up when footsteps suddenly approached the room. You and Suga instinctively freeze, your heads both turning towards the person standing by the wide-open sliding door.

“Hey, you were taking long, what’s the hold u—” Daichi freezes mid-step, the last syllable of his sentence being drawn out as he stares wide-eyed at the scene in front of him.

You realize how bad it looks. Suga was half-naked on the ground—his clothes littered carelessly all over the room—while you were on top of him, straddling his hips, your hands on his chest, both of you visibly red and breathless.

Daichi’s jaw goes lax as his water bottle slips from his hands, the impact of it hitting the ground being the only sound in the room.

“I’ll—I’ll leave you two alone.” He faltered out, pointing back to the gym, he quickly shuts the sliding door and runs away, screaming internally to himself.

You and Suga stare at the shut door for a few seconds, barely believing what had just happened. You two then look at each other before letting out a simultaneous, quiet:

“Oh shit.”

Bonus:

Daichi bursts into the gym, slamming the door open, startling the rest of the team in the process. His breathing was labored and there was an alarmed look in his eyes.

The team can only stare in shock and apprehension as he calms his breathing and rapidly beating heart.

“You guys will never believe what I just saw.”

[curly-bangtan]

Blizzard (M)

Pairing: roommate!Jungkook x reader

Summary: When a blizzard hits your town, you and your shy awkward roommate are forced to spend time together, not being able to leave the house due to the strong snowstorm. To make matters worse, the power gets cut in the middle of his shower. Which also means no heating.

Genre: roommate au, domestic au, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers

Warnings: bit of a slow burner, vanilla!Jungkook, virgin!reader, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), losing virginity, shy soft boy Koo with a crush and a noona kink, your heart could possibly burst from how cute he is

Word Count: 15.5k oops

A/N: (This fic is written in parallel to Heatwave, with an opposing concept in mind. You don’t have to read Heatwave to read this, but it would be interesting and funny to see the differences in the two scenarios that both lead to roommates hooking up.) Also, happy birthday, bunny boy! Sorry this was a day late, I was honestly swarmed. I love you, koo. Writing this very much gave me a bias crisis but it was all worth it. Enjoy! :”)

PS. Think April 2019 Jungkook 

.

‘A severe snowstorm is set to hit us this weekend with temperatures dropping down to -16˚C. It is therefore ill-advised for anyone to leave their houses during this period until the blizzard subsides as the fifth snow-induced traffic accident has been reported this week in our town…’

You have always marvelled at how the weather lady announces such things with such a passionate captivating tone.

‘The calculated probability of a city-wide power cut is currently at 72%, so please be well-equipped to stay indoors for the next two days.’

Oh shit. A power cut?

This is not good at all. Not like you have any plans for this weekend anyway, and you wouldn’t necessarily mind being stuck inside since you are good at entertaining yourself. But to possibly have no warm water, no internet in the duration of these few days?

You are currently snugly rolled up in the warmth of your blanket burrito, a mug of chamomile tea fitted in your hands, the steam of which evaporates under your chin into a slick coat. Friday evenings have never been eventful for you as long as Jimin doesn’t drag you out to some bar with him. As introverted as one can get, you much prefer staying in and watching TV or endlessly browsing the web.

The distinct rattling of keys spins your attention to the front door. Hearing the plunge of the metal into the keyhole is strangely satisfying to your ears. In steps a pink-nosed, frost-dusted Jungkook, all wrapped up in winter apparel thick enough to make him waddle clumsily.

A gust of cold flares inside from the harsh outdoors, stray flakes of snow flying in after him and landing on the rich oak tiles of the foyer. From the couch, you see his silhouette breathe out a visible grey huff. The door behind him falls shut, once again entrapping the warm temperature into the confines of these walls.

You watch your roommate, humming to himself with his black earpods hooked in his ears, as he unties the scarf around his neck. He probably hasn’t noticed your presence yet; he’s always been a little clueless afterall.

Then he looks up and meets your lingering gaze.

You both jump a little, his humming ceases instantly, eyes scrambling, darting away to your surroundings: the quiet television, the arching lamp, the white powdered window panes. Anywhere but at each other.

Clearing your throat, you greet him softly . ‘Hi.’ Your thumb rubs at the lip-shaped tea stain on the rim of your mug.

‘Um, hi. Good evening, noona.’ He dips his head at you, hood drooping lower over his head. You are two years his senior, and despite your supposed familiarity, he insists on formalities.

The weather lady has now been replaced with the anchorman, who is droning on about the car accident this morning. Awkwardness hangs in the air between you, as it always does every time you speak. It’s now your turn to say something, you’re painfully aware. But what do you say?

‘Snow storm.’ It is a statement more than anything. As if he hasn’t noticed… Nice one. You immediately want to hide your face in the mint furry throw you’re wrapped in.

‘Yeah. Snow storm.’ The rubbery sound of the careless removal of his shoes against the floor is louder than his response. ‘Jimin didn’t make it.’

Your blood freezes. ‘Wait what?! Oh my god! What happened to him?’ It takes the blanket sliding off you for you to realise that you’ve stood up abruptly. Your body is immediately flushed with a breeze of cold, devoid of insulation.

The car accident… It can’t be…

Jungkook’s attention flickers to the glaring screen as he paces towards you and realises how he must’ve sounded. ‘Woah, sorry, I worded it badly. I mean, Jimin’s stuck at Taehyung’s because the snow is too thick for him to drive back. And the service on his phone is whack, so he can’t reach you. Taehyung told me. Sorry, I didn’t mean he didn’t make it.’ Nervous chuckle. Scratching the back of his head.

Never has he said this many words to you in one go, this must be a record. That, as well as your own silly misunderstanding of his words, makes you release a humoured breath. ‘Oh right… Haha… I’m stupid.’

‘No. my bad.’

Wow. If you two keep this up, this might just be your longest running conversation in the history of living together.

Because he’s looking at the floor rather than you, you feel the liberation to look directly at his face. His round nose is red from the freezing temperature, his teeth gnawing at his chapped lips. You follow his gaze travel across the dark wooden panels, reaching a halt at your feet.

‘You’ve got a hole in your sock, noona.’ He states.

Indeed you do. Under his wide-eyed glare, you can’t help but curl your toes inwards as if it would hide your pinkie jutting out of the fabric. The way he addresses you, how his lips form a pouted ring when he pronounces the “oo”, makes you particularly self conscious. ‘Oh… Yeah, I know, it’s fine. It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’ These socks have sheltered your feet for three winters only to betray you now, during a bloody blizzard. The icy floor licks at your exposed skin tauntingly.

Silence draws taut between you. Like you’re tied to opposite ends of a string and are both trying desperately to escape, to walk away from each other.

It’s his move now… Why isn’t he saying something? But at the same time, what can he possibly respond to ‘It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’?

‘Right… See you.’ Jungkook nods politely and heads for his room. And you know you probably won’t see him reemerge until tomorrow; it’s practically his batcave in there.

A shudder courses through your body. Though it’s not from the cold but rather the embarrassment of that encounter. Quickly switching off the TV, you hide back in the comforts of your blanket like a Halloween ghost and scurry into your own room to avoid seeing him again.

.

Jeon Jungkook.

Even the thought of his name makes you crease inward involuntarily like it’s some bad memory. Despite having lived under the same roof for more or less six months, neither of you have warmed to the other in the slightest. It’s not that you have anything against him; you’re sure he must be a lovely boy, but…

Well, when you put two shy individuals next to each other, you can’t really expect them to bond over their bashfulness. No, they both tend to retract into their shells.

How you came about living together is three simple syllables: Park Jimin. If it wasn’t for this one common thread you share, your worlds would never have collided.

Ever the caring friend, it goes without saying that Jimin would rent out his vacant room in his three-bedroom house to you without even a second of hesitation after Hoseok ditches the boys to move in with his girlfriend. You’ve met all his friends before. Jimin is a social butterfly afterall, how could he resist forcing all his best mates into a confined space and make them talk to each other, or more commonly known as a party?

Namjoon and you get along just fine, seeing as you both are whores for literature. Seokjin? As long as you compliment his cooking and force a giggle at his jokes, he’ll accept your friendship. Surprisingly, Yoongi took a liking to you; you guess is due to your mild mellow nature which must clear his headaches caused by this chaotic bunch. Unsurprisingly, Hoseok took a liking to you, well, because he’s Hoseok and incapable of negativity. Much to Jimin’s jealousy, you have a soft spot for Taehyung, his mysterious charm and boyish charisma; your friendship was almost instant.

But then Jungkook…

Your introduction was a blur of awkward hellos and unmet eyes. Every time you spoke to each other, it’s a nervous stutter from him or unwarranted silence from you. Worse, if the two of you happened to bump into each other in public, neither of you knew whether or not to say hi and commence a conversation like normal acquainted people, so it always ended up being an uncomfortably long pause before nodding out of courtesy then parting ways. It’s not like you belong to the same friendship group and see each other every week or anything.

Jungkook’s playful childisness shines brightly when surrounded by the boys, witch-cackle laugh and all. However, for some reason unbeknownst to anyone, this goofy side to him is immediately switched off in your presence, as if you’re the rain that extinguishes the flame of his candle. His body stiffens, eyes widen, voice stammers. Which only leads you to mirror his behaviour.

‘He’s just really uncomfortable around girls.’ Jimin has tried to offer the only plausible explanation. ‘Poor kid went to an all boys’ school his whole life, has only ever had one girlfriend who dumped him on their one year anniversary. Your femaleness scares him.’

That would be kind of cute, you guess, if you weren’t also a socially-uncomfortable hermit who requires soft gentle prodding in order to befriend. Because then you become two logs sitting beside each other, neither willing to inch towards the other.

Forgive Jimin’s mistake of thinking that sharing a roof would change this. Because how wrong was he… If anything, it only led to increased timidity around each other.

When you first moved in, Jungkook was eager to help you carry and unpack everything, seeing as he is the most physically apt person in the house. So you thought that it was his first step towards you, and that your dynamic was finally making progress into becoming one that’s more comfortable. He even lingered around your room the first few days with Jimin to help you open all your cardboard boxes.

However, he has since struggled to utter more than five words to you. Which has continued forth until this day. In the morning rush to class, you never encounter him due to your proneness to punctuality and his to tardiness. If you ever do, it’s only ever just a quick good morning, noona without looking up from his cereal. You both enjoy the safety of your own rooms, hence rarely peak your head out unless it’s for food. Jimin is always the one to drag you out by the foot, even if its just to his room or the sofa to watch a film with him. You say drag, but really you just enjoy seeing Jimin all pouty and whiny and sucking up to you in order to earn precious quality time with you; you actually enjoy being around Jimin. It’s worse for Jungkook though because he has his own ensuite bathroom, orders Deliveroo instead of coming out to eat with you two, and only ever joins social gatherings that you’re also involved in if a high enough bribe is offered.

Hence the time you and Jungkook are exposed to each other gradually diminished over time despite being roommates. At first you only suspected, but now you know for a fact, that he is purposely avoiding you like the plague.

It baffles you, if Jimin’s theory is true, how he could possibly be scared of you, regardless of his shyness towards the female specimen. Look at you, you’re this soft-mannered, quiet-spoken creature with a meek presence. You have more reason to be intimidated by his melon-sized biceps and aggressive shouts that echo from his room when he’s gaming at 2am.

So due to this mutually reciprocated mousiness, this awkward friendship-but-not-quite thing, has never been overcome in these months.

This is not a result of lack of trying, at least from your end. You do try to talk to him, exerting enough friendliness to burst your balloon of introversion. And you suppose he does make as much effort as he can as well. He once left you a note telling you to help yourself to the leftover pizza in the fridge. On your birthday, he gave you a card in which he drew cute little cartoon illustrations of you three housemates and wrote a short message.

Happy birthday, Y/N noona!

You are such a kind person, I hope we can speak more.

Jungkook :)

You thought the exclamation mark and smiley face were above and beyond for his standards. It made you smile for the rest of the day.

.

It’s 6:23pm and your growling stomach is exacerbated by the cold that has made itself at home in your bones. You’ve always been an early dinner person while Jimin and Jungkook are the opposite.

You’ve managed to get a hold of Jimin through Taehyung; your FaceTime call with him lasted a total of twelve minutes before the connection got too poor that it hung up on its own. Berating Jimin for leaving you alone with Jungkook, especially in this snow storm where everyone is basically on house arrest, all he did was laugh at your feign annoyance. You know it isn’t Jimin’s fault but you still like to blame him for all the awkward predicaments that are bound to happen.

After this chapter of the book you’re reading, you’ll go out to the kitchen and make some dinner, you decide.

Wait a second... Do you even have enough food in the pantry to last a whole weekend? Particularly since Jungkook can easily demolish three bowls of rice and a whole pound of meat, and still have room for dessert?

Looking out the window, you realise it’s snowing way too hard for you to feel confident to pop to the nearest grocery store without slipping and dying.

Shit! What are you going to eat these few days? Especially since the electricity can cut any minute?

Just then, you hear the echo of the front door shutting. Oh no… Jungkook did not just go out in this weather. He probably noticed the lack of food as well and decided to go for a shop. You know what he’s like, he’s a boy who’s really certain of his capabilities, over certain in fact. He probably does not see the hazard of leaving the house in such heavy snow, especially in the evening. Because nothing stands in the way between Jungkook and Food.

Do you go after him? Hell, if you do, you would probably get lost somewhere and slowly freeze to your inevitable death. You can barely navigate in perfect daylight.

Scrambling for your phone, you begin searching for his number. You’ve embarrassingly only called him once, and that was when you and Jimin got locked out of the house after a pub night.

No one is picking up.

In fact, when you check your screen, you don’t even have signal. The blizzard must be getting so bad that it’s refracting the radio waves. Which means it’s even worse for Jungkook to be out right now.

He’s such an idiot. Why did he think it’s okay to just take a walk to the supermarket right now in the middle of a snow storm? You’re such an idiot. Why were you too lazy to stock up on food during the day?

You pace around your room, phone clutched in your hand in case you miraculously get signal somehow. How on earth would you explain to Jimin that your roommate, his friend, whom he left in your care since you’re his senior, went out in a blizzard to buy food that you were supposed to have gotten this morning, and ended up dead from hypothermia?

Are you overreacting? Surely you’re overreacting. Everything is going to be fine! Deep breaths.

He’s going to come back any minute now and see you losing your mind over nothing. Right? Right.

Jungkook isn’t going to die. You’re being paranoid. Ridiculous. Overly anxious as usual.

But you can’t help yourself from pressing your face against your window to try to peek outside for a sign of him. The glass is ice cold against your skin, and it sends a blood-chilling shock through your veins. You can barely make out any shapes in the sea of greys and whites.

If you can’t even see out the window, how is he walking outside right now?

Screw it, you’re going to find him.

You’re a tornado getting dressed, whipping on your massive faux-fur lined puffer coat over two layers of fleece. A pair of gloves, double layer of socks, snow boots. Useless phone and hand warmers shoved in your pockets, you storm out of the house.

The cold that greets you burns up your nostrils and painfully invade your lungs. Snow is flying directly at your face, and you’re barely sheltered by your hood as you feel the icy flakes stab at your skin and melt away. Step by wary step, you steadily walk off your porch, careful not to slip. Your heart leaps out of your chest when your feet sink down at least 10 inches of snow, your squeal is muffled by the scarf you’re using as a ski mask.

It’s now been at least 10 minutes since he’s left. Jungkook is a fast walker, but in the snow, perhaps you could catch up with him.

The flickering lamp posts light up the night, but they may as well not be working because all you can see is white. Barely able to keep your eyes open, and batting away the heavy wind that’s threatening to blow you over, you trek in the direction of the local supermarket.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you realise that you don’t recognise the way anymore. Everything is a blur of snow. The cars, houses, street signs. All snow. Google maps is failing you; you’ve given up removing your gloves each time, your fingers instantly freezing at the exposure, to zoom in or rotate the navigation which keeps hopping from location to location.

You’re utterly and undeniably - lost.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you just plop down on your ass in defeat.

Where the hell are you? Where the hell is Jungkook?

Fear and frustration bubbles in your chest. It must have been half an hour now since you left the house. Surely he should be back, and surely he would’ve intercepted you on the way. That could either mean one of two possibilities: he got lost, slash, injured, slash, died on his way, or you have somehow strayed from the route to the store and he’s now frantically searching for you.

The lump in your throat festers into a ball of panic and despair. Looking around you, there’s absolutely no one. Just eerily-still buildings and snow-hidden cars. The only sound is the howl of the winter gust and your own uneven breathing.

You’re scared, and cold, and alone.

Why the hell did you think you could find him in this snow storm? You watch your warm visible exhale disperse in the icy air, the stinging of desperate tears piercing the back of your eyes. What are you supposed to do now?

And then it hits you. Perhaps you could trace your steps back since your feet have imprinted a trail in the snow. Looking behind you, you see that the downpour of snow has already began filling the footprints nearest to you. You’re praying that they haven’t already entirely covered your earlier steps closer to the house.

Gathering yourself together, you exert a lot of effort to stand up from the ground. Your butt is now wet, and a damp chill is seeping into your underwear. Determined, you follow your footsteps, which are growing fainter, back home.

You’re hoping you recognise the way now, that you’re not just convincing yourself that the street looks familiar.

Then an awful realisation hits you.

Both your hands are stuffed into your pockets, holding those hand-warming packets and your phone. But not your keys. You forgot your keys.

‘Fuck!’ Cursing is rare for you, but anyone would probably deem this situation as a very reasonable one to swear at.

Hot gushes of tears begin flooding down your face, painting streaks of cold that freeze over in a matter of seconds. How could you be this dumb? The snow is getting heavier right now. Checking the time on your phone, it’s 7 o’clock. The streetlights are dimming due to the weather, and the pitch dark night is starting to settle in around you.

You sink to a crouch.

This is it then, you guess. You’ve met your inexorable demise, rooted from your own stupidity. And Jungkook.

You can’t believe you’re going to die trying to find Jungkook in a goddamn snow storm.

The quiet sobs and sniffles that escape you are muted by the hood around your ears. A shiver overtakes your body as your muscles tremble as a last attempt to keep you alive. Your whole face is numb, teeth clattering, eyes clamped shut to stop the tears from freezing on your cheeks.

‘Noona?’

The voice is muffled but you recognise it instantly. Your eyes fly open to see a pair of shoes halted in front of you. You look up.

And there Jungkook is, eyes wide in shock, quivering lips parted in concern, carrying four plastic bags full of food and supplies. The streetlight situated directly behind him shines a halo around his head, painting a heavenly image of him. You’ve never been more glad to see anyone in your life.

Unable to contain yourself, you fling your ice-stiffened arms around his waist and bury your face in his coat-clad torso. Your knees give in and hit the ground. New tears spring from your eyes, but this time it’s tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of gratitude. A surge of his warmth washes over you, and all of a sudden, the cold cannot touch you.

‘W-What happened? Are you- Are you okay?’ Jungkook is rooted to the ground, he wants to wrap an arm around your small head or help you up but his hands are full with the groceries.

Gripping his sleeves, you tug yourself up to face him. You probably look like a mess, red eyes, nose and cheeks. But you don’t care. Jungkook is alive, you’re alive, and you’ve found each other. ‘Yeah, I’m fine, Jungkook. Everything is fine.’

‘You’re crying, noona.’ His ears are neatly tucked under his black knitted beanie.

‘Not anymore, I’m good now.’ Ferociously wiping the liquids profusely leaking out of your orifices, you give him the biggest grin your frozen cheek muscles would allow. ‘Let’s go home. Do you need help with the bags?’

‘No, don’t worry about them.’

Standing an inch apart, you walk side by side following his lead, assuming he knows the way. The material of your coats scrape at each other when either of you leans a bit too far towards the other.

‘What are you doing out here though?’ He asks quietly.

What are you doing out here? How do you give him an explanation that does not depict you as an idiot? Because once again, you’ve been stupid and dramatic and stressed over absolutely nothing. It’s twice in the same day now that you thought one of your roommates have died. When both of them turned out to be alive and well.

‘Um… Well, I thought it was dangerous for you to go outside alone in this weather, especially since it’s getting dark... I tried calling you but had no signal so, uh, I decided to... uh, come out to find you…’ Embarrassment begins to creep it’s way to your senses, it claws digging into your skin.

You peak at him in your peripheral vision to see him stiffen, eyes eerily focused on the snowy path in front. What is he thinking? Is he going to laugh at you? Think you’re dumb? Find you weird and obsessive?

‘Oh… Um.’ Clearing his throat, he glances at you and you quickly look away. Flustered. ‘You didn’t have to, I’m fine. I know this neighbourhood like the back of my hand, noona.’

‘Yeah, but you took so long. I got worried…’ You whisper the last bit.

An awkward pause is birthed. Your fists tighten around the hand warmers in your pockets.

‘I- I’m sorry for worrying you, noona.’ You hear his own fists tighten around the handle of bags as well, the plastic crinkling. ‘The supermarket around the corner was shut so I had to find another one that wasn’t. I made it just in time, though, right before this one closed as well. Then I also had to find a store that sells those so-’ He stops abruptly when he realises that he’s rambling.

‘Sells what?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Jungkook mumbles.

Another silence. The night has fallen, looking around, if it isn’t for the scarce light casted by the lamp posts, everything would be pitch dark. You’re so glad you’re not alone. Worse come to worse, you would’ve had to knock on these random houses and beg them to take you in for the night.

‘Wait,’ he says, ‘That doesn’t explain why you were crying.’

Well, crap. What are you supposed to say?

‘Uhh… Well, I got lost and my phone wasn’t working, so… I just kinda panicked.’ If your face wasn’t red from the cold and embarrassment from before, it definitely is now. You feel the blood pumping to your head, enough to make you sway a little.

‘Oh shit. I’m sorry, that was all my fault. I- I should’ve told you I was popping out in the first place. Ugh, noona, I’m sorry.’ You’ve never seen him display much emotion towards you, but currently, seeing him so alive with exasperation… It’s kind of endearing.

Screw earlier, this is the longest conversation the two of you have had, ever.

‘No, Jungkook, stop apologising. It wasn’t your fault at all!’

To be fair, you couldn’t have wandered that far if Jungkook found you on his way back from whatever shop he went to; you must’ve been close at least.

And so you two arrive safely to your house. Carefully wobbling up the porch slippery with slush, you stop in front of the door.

He looks at you expectantly. ‘Keys, noona?’ Of course, his hands are full.

Here you are, thinking you could’ve gotten away with not telling him you had moronically left your keys at home. ‘Um, I forgot to bring them with me.’ You utter, then add. ‘I was in a hurry.’

For a second, Jungkook looks like he’s about to tell you off for endangering yourself with such stupidity. But he just lets out a half-laugh half-sigh and bites down on his lip. ‘Mine are in my left, no, right back jean pocket.’

Right. He is asking you to get his keys from his back pocket.

His back pocket.

You freeze.

You’ve never so much as touched Jungkook, if you don’t count brushing shoulders. Hugging him back there was purely out of hysteria, which you retracted from the second you registered your action. Now, you’re going to grope his ass. This day just keeps getting you more familiar with him, doesn’t it?

Gulping, you suck up your cowardice and slide your hand into his back pocket, intentionally not looking at him while doing so. The firmness of his buttcheek fits snugly in your palm while your index finger hooks around his keyring. And what the hell, you strangely get the urge to squeeze it.

You yank your hand out of there before it can betray you and act on that impulse. Glimpsing up, you see that his cheeks are also crimson as he stares up at the ceiling a little too attentively.

.

After changing into some warm dry clothes and setting your snow-dampened ones on the radiator, you go out to the kitchen to see Jungkook cooking some ramen, which doesn’t come as a surprise as he practically lives off them. He’s dressed in sweatpants and a black hoodie; after cupping his ass through his back pocket, you can’t help but notice how round his rear is, especially in those bottoms.

God, what is wrong with you? You cannot seriously be checking Jungkook’s ass out.

This time his hood his down, and you appreciate how fluffy his hair is starting to grow. You can’t help but wonder what it sme-

Woah.

Why are you thinking so much about Jungkook?

Truth be told, that scare he gave you just now opened your eye as to how much you actually care about him. Despite never really saying much to each other, you guess you’ve grown a sort of fondness for him that you didn’t realise you have. It’s only natural; you have known each other for close to a year now, and half of which was spent under the same roof. Of course you would worry for his well being, you tell yourself.

The kitchen fan must be blocking his hearing because he doesn’t sense your approach, he’s singing softly to himself. He’s got a lovely voice, both your roommates do. But whereas Jimin sings loudly and proudly, Jungkook only does so in the shower or when he doesn’t think anybody is listening.

When he notices you finally, you’re peering over his shoulder. He jumps. You jump. The chopsticks he’s using to stir the noodles fly out of his hands, clattering on the counter.

‘Oh jeez, you scared me.’ He picks up the chopsticks.

‘Sorry.’ You squeak and take a step back when you realise your proximity.

‘Haha…’ He chuckles nervously, embarrassed. ‘Noona, you like jajangmyeon, right?’

Do you like jajangmyeon? You live and breathe jajangmyeon. You can’t go a week without jajangmyeon. You’ve had it for breakfast, lunch and dinner before all in one day. Those noodles in that sauce… Mmm…

‘Yeah, they’re my favourite.’ Is all you say though, you figure he probably doesn’t care for a whole speech about your love for them. Surely he knows at this point, there isn’t a single day in this house where the ramen cupboard is devoid of jajangmyeon.

‘Great, I’m making you some.’

Oh. Jungkook is cooking for you. A warmth creeps into your cheeks, and you’re not sure why.

‘You don’t have to, Jungkook. Just cook for yourself, I’ll make myself dinner after you.’ But then your stomach chooses now to bellow aloud like a bullfrog traitorously. You look at him, abashed.

A smile is playing at his lips, though he’s trying not to show it.

‘Go sit down, noona. It’ll be ready in a second.’ His eyes are fixed on the bubbling water, chopsticks hauling up the softening noodles to check their texture. Though you’ve never tasted his cooking, you don’t doubt ramen mastery, so you nod compliantly.

The bags of shopping are half unpacked on the dining table, so you decide to finish sorting them out. He’s bought gimbap, bread, cheese, some salad, mostly food that doesn’t require cooking; you can tell he has thought ahead for the potential blackout.

Then something else in the bag catches your eye.

‘Dinner’s ready.’ Jungkook carries two bowls of brown noodles, garnished with sausage and cucumber, just the way you like it.

He sets the bowls opposite each other on the end of the table that’s not packed with groceries. This feels extremely weird and domestic. Although you live together, you don’t remember the last time you’ve had a meal together on this table, just the two of you without Jimin. Yet now, you’re about to eat jajangmyeon that he cooked for you, right across each other. Extremely weird.

‘Thank you so much for cooking, Jungkook.’ You bow your head at him politely and take a seat opposite him.

‘You’re welcome, noona.’ He also mirrors your action. You can kind of understand why it must be so annoying to Jimin how you’re so formal to each other, it must sound so forced and awkward.

Which is what this meal is going to be. Forced and Awkward.

Jungkook waits for you to take the first bite before digging, which you have to do so without rolling your eyes back and moaning out loud in satisfaction. Jajangmyeon tastes so flipping good! Your one and only true love.

You’re too focused on slurping down the noodles that you don’t notice him smiling fondly at the rare sight of you so blatantly excited.

The meal goes by quietly, neither of you are talkers to begin with, much less while eating. Whether it’s because it’s your favourite dish, or because it’s a freezing cold winter day, or even maybe because it’s Jungkook’s own cooking, the food tastes especially scrumptious.

‘This is delicious.’ Your eyes are practically glowing at him; he shys away from the praise by sipping on his can of coke. Who drinks coke in this weather? A smile stretches your lips at the oddity of this boy’s taste.

Jungkook mumbles a thanks, avoiding your eye as usual. But the jajangmyeon has put you in a good mood, you’re feeling rather chatty actually. ‘Also, Jungkook, I saw you bought-’ You dig into one of the grocery bags and pull out what you spotted earlier.

‘Oh yeah.’ Jungkook stares at the two-pack of fluffy socks in your hand, wearing a slightly mortified expression. ‘Um… I thought... you could do with some new ones.’

Surprised, your whole body tenses. You had thought he bought them for himself after seeing you wear yours so comfortably. All thought flaps away from your mind like a flock of frightened birds, leaving an empty field. He- Why- What do you-

‘Oh.’ Clearing your throat, you murmur. ‘Wow, thank you so much.’ Unable to look at him for any longer, your eyes fall onto your noodles. Your hand holding the socks drop onto the table at the weight of his kindness. Then a realisation creeps up on you. ‘Wait… They don’t sell these socks in supermarkets…’

Glancing up, you find him fiddling with his fingers nervously. ‘Uh. I went to another shop that does.’

Knots upon knots begin to tie in your stomach. So that’s why he took so long out there, not only did he have to find another supermarket that was open, he also searched for a store that sells fuzzy socks. For you.

Why do you feel so warm everywhere?

When you fall into a silent trance of your own thinking, Jungkook gets worried. ‘Noona, do you not like them? Did I get the wrong ones?’

‘No, no, no!’ You frantically dispute, forcing yourself to look at him. ‘These are perfect! I’m just surprised… and touched. That’s all. Jungkook, you really didn’t have to.’ The fabric of the socks feel heavenly to touch, your thumb sinks into the clouds of its softness. Truly, this has taken you by surprise and you don’t know how to react.

‘It’s okay…’ Redness blooms across his cheeks like drops of watercolour.

First he cooks you your favourite meal, then he buys you fuzzy socks? Is this the same Jungkook you’ve been living with all these months?

‘No, here…’ You rip open the card of the packet and snap the plastic wire that holds the four socks together. ‘Take a pair, I only need one anyway.’

At you waving the socks in front of him, he leans back in refusal, shaking his head and muttering a string of no no no’s. You’re not at all a strong-willed person by any means, but you’re not backing down on this, not when he’s been so lovely to you all night. When he realises that you won’t take no for an answer, he sighs, scratching the back of his ears. ‘Okay, okay. You can have the mint ones.’

One pair is mint and the other is pink. You blink. He wants the pink ones?

When he realises what must be going through your head, he quickly says, ‘Mint is your favourite colour right?’

Mint is your favourite colour. Though how does he know? All your possessions are in a variety of pastels: baby blue, cotton candy pink, mint green and lilac purple. He couldn’t have possibly guessed…?

‘Yes, it is… But I seriously don’t mind if you want the mint ones, I’m not gonna make you take the pink ones.’

‘No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.’ Jungkook snatches the pink fluffy socks from you before you can argue and stuff them onto his lap.

Your heart does a little thing that you can’t describe.

The two of you finish your dinner in silence, mirroring each other with one hand gripping the socks ever so tightly and the other hand picking up the noodles with your chopsticks. Awkwardly, Jungkook take a glimpse at you. A tiny smear of sauce stains the corner of your mouth.

Does he tell you? It would make it awkward though, wouldn’t it? But then again, it would be worse for you to find out yourself when you look in the mirror and think that he didn’t tell you you have sauce on your face.

‘Sauce.’ He accidentally says before he could finish formulating what he’s going to say to you. Shit. What’s wrong with him? Why did he say it like that? In response to your confused expression, he gestures dumbly at the corner of his own mouth.

Instantly a blush flames across the apples of your cheeks. You are about to wipe it away with your sleeve when you realise a second too late that you’re wearing a white sweater.

Your hand dangles a centimetre from your face, wrist caught in Jungkook’s fingers as he notices the mistake in your action before you. His whole body is leaned over the table in order to reach you. Wide eyes locked on each other, neither of you dare to move at his sudden outburst of motion towards you.

‘Um.’ He peeps. ‘Careful, I’ll do it, noona.’

Before you can register, he lets go of your arm allowing it to fall onto your lap. When his index knuckle brushes against the end of your mouth, a wave of shock zaps down your spine. Your heart lurches down an abyss at how soft his skin feels on your sensitive lips. Then his touch is gone, leaving a warmth tingling in his wake.

As he looks around for something to wipe his finger on, pupils round like a puppy, your eyes refuse to leave him. Thank you sits at the tip of your tongue but your throat is too clogged to utter a sound. The clockworks are trying to turn in your brain but all you can focus on is Jungkook.

How is he this nice, kind, gentle boy? And how have you completely missed this about him? In fact, why have you been so demure with him when he’s… an angel?

Watching his tongue poke at the inside of his cheek, a much scarier thought dawns on you.

Do you have a crush on Jungkook?

.

White screen glaring at you, the words of your unfinished essay frowns at your lack of attention in disapproval. You can’t write about Jane Austen’s exploration of feminism when Jungkook has overtaken your capacity to concentrate on anything other than him.

The radiator by your desk acts as your foot rest, blazing the pleasant heat up your legs. Ever few seconds, your eyes would wander to those mint green fuzzy socks you’re wearing, so brand new that its fluff caresses your toes like a flower bed. Just the thought that he went out of his way to replace your old hole-ridden pair…

Stop.

Jane Austen. Focus.

But the phantom touch of his finger sweeping across the plump of your bottom lip is etched on your skin, the picture of his doe eyes staring at your mouth refusing to leave your memory.

What has happened to you? How have you just swung from two extremes: from hardly able to speak a word to him without stuttering, to daydreaming about his kindness towards you?

The cold is making you delirious. It has to be this godforsaken cold, because why else would you all of a sudden be so flustered from the thought of Jungkook?

You take a long hard sip of your coffee, and mark it as a new leaf. From now on, no more thinking about anyone else other than Jane Austen. Pushing up your sleeves, you straighten your slouching back and face the monster of you assignment head on.

Not 5 minutes later, your desk lamp begins to flicker. You throw it a quick glance as your fingers type on your keyboard. Weird, you just changed the bulb a few weeks ago. Nevermind it.

Then all of a sudden, all the lights in your room go out. Frowning, you get up and try the switch several times to no avail. Peaking outside your room, all that greets you is a cold darkness. So you turn on the flashlight on your phone and try other light switches of the house. Nothing. Even the heat begins to seep away from the heaters as they dim to a cool. Oh no, right now?

Using your phone as a torch, you pad towards Jungkook’s room and open his door before you can remember to knock. Perhaps your anxiety has overridden your common sense and courtesy. Unfamiliar with the orientation of his room, you trail your side against the wall to guide you.

‘Jungkook? I think the power’s ou-’

Your phone shines onto a tall silhouette, illuminating a view that makes you shriek and stumble back.

There he is, standing with a white towel around his waist, beads of water splattered across his naked body and dripping rapidly out his wet slicked back hair. The swell of his biceps catch your attention first, lined with prominent veins running all the way down to his large hands placed on his hips. Which leads your gaze to the illustrious v of his hips that arch down to-

Without meaning to, your eyes travel down to this bulge. His hefty unmissable bulge. The towel protrudes out like a tiny hill, and you want to scream at it.

If you had a drink in your mouth right now, you would surely spit it out all over him and choke to your death. But you don’t, so all that comes out of you is a strangled cat noise. Looking away from that sinful area as quickly as you can, you arrive at his face - shocked, alarmed and confused. Your cheeks burning in the flames of hell, you spin away hastily to sprint out of his room in horror.

Except you run into the wall.

The impact hits your forehead and thankfully not your nose. Phone flung onto the ground with the light facing up, you fall onto you knees clutching at the eruption of pain. But nothing hurts more than your pride and image.

‘Noona!’ One hand securing the towel covering his manhood and preserving his dignity, he scrambles over to help you despite himself.

You flinch away at his hand on your shoulder because he is now right beside you. And it’s as if you’ve zoomed in too far on a picture because his nakedness is suddenly magnified 100x. You want to Ctrl Z yourself out of his room and back into your own desk. Because what. the. hell.

What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?

Transfixed on the ridges of this abdomen, you cannot focus on anything other than the way his muscles groove up and down so smoothly to form a six pack. Shadows casted by the flashlight sculpting more definition onto his marble chest. Goosebumps are raised on his blemishless skin, which you almost want to stroke away with your warmth.

‘I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.’ You chant cataleptically in a daze. It’s more for your own reassurance than his. His bare upper body needs to let you breathe.

‘Are you sure?’ His concern is apparent in his expression, eyes examining your entire face for your injury.

‘Yes, yes.’ Desperately wanting to shoo him away, you wince at the pulsing ache burgeoning in your forehead.

‘I’m sorry.’ You both say in unison, though neither of you understand why the other is apologising.

Though he seems abashed about being shirtless, his humiliation comes nowhere near your level. Why isn’t he scrambling to put a shirt on?

To be fair Jungkook does seem awfully self conscious, you’ve caught him looking down at himself for about the fifteenth time now as he helps you up to your feet.

‘I’ll let you get dressed, sorry.’ Is all you say after snatching your phone off the ground, not even bothering to check for a cracked screen, before making your timely escape. This time more successful than the last.

Clutching your throbbing head, you race to your room and catapult onto your bed. The picture of a wet, shirtless Jungkook with only a towel to shield you from his crotch is now ingrained in your mind. You think shutting your eyes will help but you still see his divine abs behind your lids.

Holy shit.

What perhaps scares you more is how attracted you are to him. Since when did you find your roommate hot? This is shy, quiet Jungkook who plays overwatch until 4am. How dare he have a Greek God’s body to confuse you like this?

You need to stop thinking about his naked body right now.

Instead you check outside your window to see that the streetlights are off as well; it must be a blackout across the whole town, if not city. Without heating, the cold air begins to harshly sting your exposed skin. Panic starts to fester in your chest. How long can you last with no electricity whatsoever? You don’t even have phone signal, or something to charge your phone with except the one portable charger that may or may not be dead right now.

Though your door is wide open, Jungkook knocks on it politely outside your room. Which is what you should’ve done with him, you mentally scold yourself. Though he is now dressed in an oversized hoodie, your image of him is forever changed after seeing him fresh out the shower, hair still dripping. You blink hard in attempt to rid that thought.

‘Hi…’ He whispers. He’s holding two burning candles against his chest, their flames lighting up the underside of his sharp jaw.

‘Hi, come in.’

You can sense his hesitancy, the unease in the air between you, when he enters your room gingerly, feet clad in those pink fuzzy socks.

‘Sorry-’ You both say at the same time again, then release a breath of laughter. Mirth twinkles in his eyes, though his shyness does not stray from him.

‘I’m sorry for barging into your room like that.’ It’s an effort not to glance down at his adorable socks. ‘That was completely my fault, so don’t apologise.’

He swallows. ‘It’s okay, noona.’

His eyes hold yours for a solid moment before dispersing. A familiar blush is starting to paint your cheeks, you feel the heat from your chest blare up to your entire face. Unable to help imagining those solid muscles underneath his clothes, you tug at the hem of your sweater.

‘So,’ Jungkook places one of the candles on your desk. ‘This is for you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Instead of using the flashlight of your phone, use the candle or one of the torches I’ve put on the table outside to save your battery. I’ve checked the main fuse, it isn’t switching back on. Good thing is that we still have running water and plumbing, just no heating or any electricity.’ He glances at your own socks. ‘We need to use the water sparingly though or the reservoir will run out. From the shops, I’ve bought some food that we can eat without cooking like gimbap or sandwiches. There’s also a stash of hand warmers in the drawer of the TV stand if you’re cold.’

That’s a lot of words to come out of Jungkook’s mouth in one go, all spoken to you. What he’s saying is sinking in and relief washes over you, yet you can’t help but focus your attention on the way his lips move as he speaks. The dark red gleaming with lip balm, curving over each syllable so prettily.

‘That’s great, thank you.’ You finally snap out of it. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ That last sentence slips out of you before you could stop it.

Pupils widening a fraction, Jungkook’s lips part in reaction. Why did you tell him that? Maybe you should just lock yourself in your room after continuously embarrassing yourself tonight. But then he pulls into a smile that melts away the ice that’s numbing your limbs and burning your lungs. The front of his teeth slightly jutting out sweetly.

Again, a fondness tickles your chest.

‘Me too.’ The tingle spreads into a pulse that crushes your throat. Is that why they call it a crush?

You simply cannot suppress your own growing grin.

Jungkook begins to walk away, but then stops at your door and turns back. There’s a reluctance, an uncertainty to his slow movement as he faces you.

‘If… If you get too cold without the radiator… you can…’ His voice barely a husk. ‘You can come over to mine.’

Then he’s gone. The aura lit up by his candle gradually diminishes away from you as he walks down the hallway to his room.

Frozen in place, you’re not even sure if your heart is beating anymore. Those final words ring in your ear like wind chimes.

You can come over to mine.

Does he mean what you think he means? Is he offering to keep you warm during the night?

You watch the candle he’d placed on your desk, its flame mirroring the small fire kindling in your core for the boy who went out during a blizzard to buy you fuzzy socks so your feet don’t get cold.

On the other side of the wall, Jungkook is on the verge of combustion at his bold proposition to you, red burning the tips of his ears. Though the memory of the look of pure euphoria on your face when you took your first bite of jajangmyeon burns his heart hotter yet.

.

The cold is brutal and shows no mercy. Despite your tossing and turning and effort to warm yourself up, sleep does not grace you. Part of the blame goes to Jungkook, you have not been able to cease thinking about him and everything he has done tonight. It makes you reflect on all your past moments together, whether he has always been like this and you were only too closed off to pay heed.

Sitting up from your bed, you decide you won’t be able to fall asleep without extra warmth. You need hand warmers stuffed down your pyjamas.

So, muscles stiff from the cold, you clamber out the little warm burrow of your covers and head for the living room, forsaking any light since your vision has adapted to the dark. On your way there, you walk past Jungkook’s room. Without knowing why, your legs betray you and stop outside his door.

You can come over to mine.

The low rasp of his voice still echoes in your head, stirring your unwarranted feelings for him into a warm pot of honey.

Had he really meant it? Did he honestly invite you to his share his bed? Surely not - this is Jeon Jungkook you’re thinking of, he doesn’t even speak to you most days, can’t not cower away from your glare. And he also knows what you’re like, how it took you two whole months to even warm to all of Jimin’s friends, how you only recently stopped using honorifics with those older than you.

And surely he must be at least mildly aware of the lack of boys and romance in your life, living just down the hall from you. Jimin is the closest male friend you have, and even so, you aren’t completely comfortable with sleeping beside him.

But then… All that has transpired about Jungkook’s character tonight, how sweet and kind and thoughtful he is which completely falls outside your predictions of the boy…

You realise you want to know more, want to explore the depths and mysteries that is your strange roommate. This intangible force that has been building up in the mere hours you’ve spent together this cold winter’s night draws you to him.

So screw those hand warmers, they last way too short anyway. Who needs those fidgety packets when there’s a whole Jeon Jungkook next door?

Gathering all the courage you can muster, you knock on his door.

The wood sends tendrils of cold into your knuckles. There’s a pause at first which leaves you thinking that he’s asleep, and to be fair, this late at night he has every reason to be. You’re about to turn away and head forth down the hall when you hear sheets moving, followed by his muffled come in.

Timidly, you step into his room, mind still fresh with the memory of what had happened last time you entered here unannounced, mere hours ago. Let’s not think about that right now, shall we?

Jungkook is sat up in his bed, black hood engulfing half his head. A single scented candle lit on his bedside table beside him illuminates the whole room into a golden ochre hue, it smells of freshly washed sheets.

‘Hi…’ You peep out, stopping in front of his bed.

‘Everything ok, noona?’ His eyes are fixed on your face in wonder, but when you meet them, they dart to your socks.

‘Um, yes.’ How do you put this? How do you formulate those words? ‘I just… It’s absolutely freezing with the radiators not working. Maybe- D-’ You exhale shakily. He’s gaze slowly crawls back up to your face as he realises where you’re going with this. ‘You know how you suggested that we should… sleep tog- on the same bed… to keep each other warm…? Well...’

Jungkook blinks at you. For a heartbeat, all you want to do is curl up into a ball and roll out of here. You couldn’t even finish what you were saying because your jaw has simply refused to move, refused to let you carry on embarrass yourself.

Then, although he was already on one side of the bed, he scooches over to the left. He doesn’t look at you when he replies, ‘Of course.’

Your heart is pumping fast, almost making you choke on your constricting throat. Warily you clamber onto his bed, but stop when only your knee is on the mattress. The bed frame creaks. Jungkook is regarding you with an unreadable expression, nibbling on his bottom lip. ‘Wait, if this is weird, just tell me to go.’

‘N-No. It’s fine.’ Pulling the covers over his chest, he crosses his arms shyly. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, though you could be mistaken due to the odd lighting. ‘I was struggling to fall asleep from the cold as well.’ He adds when you don’t seem convinced.

Both of you are making this a bigger deal than it actually is, you are fully aware. It honestly pains you how awkward you two are with each other; if this were Jimin, he’d be dragging you onto his bed by the waist, letting you flounder about in his arms like a cat trying to escape before smothering you with his affection. But this is Jungkook. Quiet, shy, awkward Jungkook. Jungkook who hasn’t spoken more than ten words a day to you before the events of tonight even though you live together. Jungkook who you’re slowly learning more and more about during this blizzard.

Plus, he was the one who offered to share his bed earlier in the first place. This is fine, just fine. Act normal.

Overly conscious of how he’s watching your every movement carefully, you slowly burrow into the comfort of his bed. Immediately you’re enveloped in his residual body heat under the duvet. Now you realise that he moved over to the other side of the bed, the cold side, so you can relish in the warmth that he’s been collecting under these covers.

Why is Jungkook so… considerate?

Again, the same fuzzy feeling as before tugs at your heartstrings. Suddenly you want to reach out to him, but instead, you tug at your sleeves.

You’re both staring at the blank ceiling as if it is some fascinating art piece, with enough space between you to fit a Jimin. The candle has casted long grey shadows across the room, occasionally flickering haphazardly.

Everything that is currently whizzing through your head is driving you insane. This is actually happening. You are sharing a bed with Jungkook, the guy who you can’t even look in the eye when speaking to, your roommate who has only ever tried to avoid you. This day is a jack-in-the-box of Jungkook-themed surprises. What’s going to be next?

‘Feeling warmer, noona?’ He breaks the silence first, and you can’t help but glance over at him. His side profile is mostly masked by his hood, yet you can still see his jaw clenching. You can only imagine how uneasy he is currently feeling.

‘Yes.’ It’s barely a whisper you manage, so you clear your throat. ‘Much better Jungkook, thank you.’

Another silence. Though this is an improvement from before, you still feel a chill in your bones; the cold is a resilient pest that aches your muscles and numbs your face.

‘Should I blow out the candle then?’ You ask.

‘Oh right, yeah.’

You huff at the small flame but it refuses to go out, and you kind of don’t want it to as it provides a strong beacon of heat as its smoke licks at your face. You huff again. Still, it only wavers. You’re so cold that you don’t even have the strength to take out a candle. Peaking over at Jungkook, his eyes are locked on you patiently.

‘I’ll do it.’ He leans across the bed over you, you feel his warmth radiate into your proximity as his should hovers over your face. His scent, a clean soft musk, swims up your nose; you never noticed how pleasant he smells. The veins on his neck are protruding as he strains to reach over. When he extinguishes the candle with a single harsh blow, embarrassment rains on you.

Darkness enshrouds you two. As he returns to his position, you notice that he’s closer to you than before, now only less than a foot away. The sound of his breathing provides a steady rhythm that soothes your wild thoughts.

Though your social skills are subpar by nature, Jungkook has a way of magnifying your awkwardness. Should you say something? Good night? Thank him again?

Then you realise, he’s shivering. Of course, his hair must still be wet from his unfinished shower that was cut short by the blackout. God, he must be freezing.

‘You’re cold.’ You state, though you mean it more as a question.

‘I’m fine.’ Hums his response, yet his inhale is shaky.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you know what you’re going to do next is completely out of character and will require more guts than you actually possess. Your hand gropes at the space between you until you find his hand. It’s ice cold. Jungkook jumps at the contact and you hear him turn his head towards you. You hope his sight hasn’t adjusted to the dark yet so he can’t see how abashed you are.

‘You’re not fine.’ His fingers are stiff when you interlock yours between his. Everything is screaming inside you. What are you doing? What the heck? If Jimin were here to see this his jaw would drop all the way down to hell.

Unable to suppress the urge either, you also turn to look at him. In the dark, you can barely make out the outline of his face, the shape of his glossy eyes reflecting the moonlight seeping in through the window. Slowly, his fingers curl up around your hand. Your heart flips.

Blood roaring in your ears, you inch towards him like a frightened deer until your sides are pressed against each other. Your faces must be a hand’s width apart, but the darkness fuels you with a brazenness that allows you to not cringe away. His whole body tenses in response.

‘Better?’ Voice so soft he strains to hear you.

Jungkook nods, eyes never leaving yours. ‘Better.’ His response rumbles into your ear and percolate into your mind, and only now are you aware of how close he is.

An amalgamation of unidentifiable emotions stir inside you. You feel your own warmth trickle towards him as his does with you, and slowly his presence plucks away the cold you are plagued with.

‘Good night, Jungkook.’

‘Good night, Y/N noona.’

Though it’s only briefest of movements, you feel his thumb stroke over yours once, twice, as your eyelids fall shut.

The next morning, you wake up first with your head fitted cosily on his heavily breathing chest, his arm draped across your shoulder, shielding you from the chilly morning air.

.

The power still isn’t back on.

It’s now nearing 24 hours since the blackout first hit.

You’ve wasted the day wandering about the house, unsure of what to do with yourself. Though you tell yourself it’s the withdrawal symptoms from the internet, it’s mostly due to the fact that you slept next to Jungkook last night.

The earlier half of the day was spent subtly avoiding him because what the hell are you supposed to say to him? Do you just carry on your usual selves around each other or are you, like, friends now? You caught yourself watching him sleep this morning, serene breaths in and out through his nose. There’s a tiny mole under his lips that you’ve never noticed before. You had poked it with your pinky before you could stop yourself. And thankfully he’s a heavy sleeper, he didn’t even stir.

With more effort than you thought would require, you pried yourself out of his arms, a cold breeze instantly welcoming you in an embrace as you left his bed.

Those scenes keep replaying in your head: him finding you out in the blizzard, watching him cook you jajangmyeon, discovering that he when out of his way to buy you new sock, then walking in on him almost stark naked from the shower, and finally, falling asleep enveloped in his warm and scent.

You’re definitely crushing on him.

You’ve stopped denying it when you saw him meander wearily out his room at noon, bed head ruffled, eyes still droopy from sleep. Wordlessly, you had passed him the ham and cheese sandwich you prepared for yourself and you don’t even know why because you were absolutely starving.

The downpour of snow only stopped for a good 10 minutes this afternoon, a tiny window in which you poked your head out for some fresh air. Jungkook had tried to shovel away some snow to clear the porch, but quickly ran back inside when he saw your worried face plastered to the window watching him.

There isn’t much either of you can do with no electricity, no internet, no television, trapped indoors. So you occupy your day curled up on the couch, nose buried in a novel, completely immersed in that beautifully crafted fictional world.

Until Jungkook walks out in a white t-shirt and shorts.

Your eyebrow raises, peeking at him from behind the pages.

‘I’m gonna work out here, if you don’t mind. There isn’t enough space in my room.’ He scratches the back of his head.

‘Sure.’ You exhale, knowing your demise is looming over your head like a storm cloud. A lot of self control is exercised in order to not ogle at his calves.

Training your eyes at the novel in front of you with great determination, you turn the page. The first minute is easy enough, you just have to angle your book to block your view of him. But then his breathing grows heavier, panting every rep. At that, you can’t help but glimpse past the corner of your page.

Oh Lord. He’s doing push ups.

Though his biceps are mostly covered by his sleeves, the muscles of his forearms tensing at every contraction catch you eye. You marvel at the way his tendons flex out, and the way his serpentine of veins snake down his hands.

Jeez.

Then he lets out an unholy grunt, setting your whole skin on aflame. Scarlet stains your cheeks, you’re sure of it. But the sinful sounds do not stop. Sweat his now seeping through his shirt, rendering the material transparent down his back. And his ass…

You snap your focus back to your novel.

Just in time as well because he stops onto his knees, head falling back as he sits on his ankles, panting. His neck is shimmering with his perspiration, droplets trickling down like a brook.

Jungkook glances over at you to see you reading intently, jaw clenched from what he guesses is due to the excitement of the plot.

But then you stand up so abruptly that it startles him. You can’t sit here and spy on his workout any longer, you physically cannot take it. Not to mention, it makes you feel so awful, like you’re perving on the poor clueless boy who only wants to break a sweat.

The both of you just stare at each other, flustered for different reasons. His breathing slows.

‘I’m gonna-’ You don’t know where you’re going with the sentence. Gulp. ‘Uh, see you later.’

Scampering away into your room, you don’t wait for his response. Why are you panting heavier than he is when he’s the one exercising? Your book is pressed tightly against your pounding chest as you lean your back on your door. Your legs give way and you slowly slide down onto the cool floor.

There’s one thing you know for sure.

Jeon Jungkook is not good for your heart.

.

It’s almost midnight and Jungkook is standing outside your door. Fist clenched, inches away from rapping on the wood, but completely frozen in action.

Just do it, idiot. He scolds himself.

After an ice cold post-workout shower, this time early enough so he doesn’t have to sleep with wet hair, you both had gimbap for dinner. It was an excruciatingly silent meal which he blames himself for, though he can’t help the way his tongue gets tied every time he wishes to speak to you.

And now, bed time, he is at a dilemma of whether or not to ask to sleep with you again. It may come across as too forward coming from a guy, he doesn’t want to scare you. But he also knows that he will be missing the warmth of your body beside him if he goes to bed alone.

Jungkook sighs and lets his hanging hand fall to his side.

If you wanted to, you would have gone to his room anyway. Might as well save the awkward rejection and just take this as a no.

However, your door suddenly swings open. He’s confronted with a pyjama-wearing, baby-faced you, flinching back a step at the surprising sight of him.

‘Op- I was just....’ His sentence falls flat. He was just what?

‘I was just coming to find you.’ You mutter, eyes softening if he isn’t mistaken. A flood of relief rushes at him, so you were planning on coming to him tonight.

Wordlessly, you pad after him to his room. Everything is dark but you see his figure clearly in front of you. It gives you a false sense of confidence which leads you to trip over his charger wire you so clumsily missed.

You don’t know how he reacts so quickly to your yelp of distress, but he turns around in time to catch your outstretched arms by the elbows. ‘Watch out.’ Feet fumbling over each other, he stumbles back onto his bed as you fall onto him. The weight of your bodies sink down onto the mattress.

Hard muscle cushions your fall. Chests pressed against each other, you don’t realise your hands have instinctively circled around his shoulders for balance. Your nose is touching his fabric of his collar, his musk instantly overriding your senses. When you look up, his eyes are a crystal clear pool somehow reflecting the constellations of the night sky in this darkness. His breath caresses your forehead. Your gaze drops to his mouth, pink and parted.

You want to kiss him, you realise. So badly. Every fibre of your being is currently yearning to meet his lips, longing to know whether he tastes better than he smells.

But then your limbs are moving for you, propping yourself up and off him. Your own mouth forms and quiet ‘sorry’ as you shuffle under the sheets. It’s as if you’re watching your own actions through your eyes, controlled by your logic rather than desire. You couldn’t let yourself kiss him.

Jungkook silently squirms into his bed beside you, unwilling to look your direction as much as you’re averse to his.

So this is how it’s going to be again. Two sleeping logs next to each other.

There’s an ache of regret in your heart for being so timid. Annoyance at yourself drips down your throat, fist clenching at the sheets. You should’ve kissed him right then and there, consequences be damned. When will you get another chance? But perhaps it was fate. You have no idea how he would’ve reacted; the pessimist in you thinks he would’ve been disgusted. Yes, it was fate. It was right not to have kissed him.

Wait, no. A boldness suddenly pours down on you. Shyness and introversion has gotten you nowhere before, and it will not help your situation now.

‘Jungkook.’ Your voice comes out crisp and clear.

‘Hm, Noona?’

‘I’m still cold.’ Turning to face him, you see innocent confusion settle in his expression. The sound of your thumping pulse has reached your ears, your heart is a speeding motor flying off to find him. ‘Come closer.’

The shadow of his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. His focus does not stray from you as he slides across the bed hesitantly.

‘Closer.’

He edges further towards you. You can now just about make out the shape of the scar that flecks his left cheek.

‘Closer.’

This time, his exhale tickles your neck. Warm bodies touching, confusion and perturbation cloud his glassy orbs as he scans your face for an answer to the plethora of questions swimming in his head.

‘Thank you.’ You breathe, though it feels like no air is entering you. You can’t believe what you’re doing. This close to him, you’re entire being bathes in his presence, his aura; a familiar tingling ails your soul as your eyes flicker to his lips.

Every single muscle in Jungkook is frozen in shock, unsure of what is going on and why the sudden change in your demeanour towards him. And when you turn onto your side away from him and inch by inch back your body onto his front, his heart

stops

beating.

Nose buried in your floral-scented hair, vacillating thoughts tell him to put his arm around your waist and hold you close to him. You sense his unsureness in the way his hand rests on your side and pauses for too long before pulling you into his chest.

His frame engulf yours, the curve of your back lining perfectly with his. You feel safe, protected. His furnace touch on your waist burns through the thick fabric of your jumper and seeps into your core. The effect he has on you is nothing you’ve ever experienced before, and neither have you ever been in this position with anyone. Although it isn’t much, merely just cuddling, this feels so remarkably intimate and intense, like you’ve finally stepped through a threshold built into the emotional wall that towers between you and him.

You’re not entirely sure if you’re breathing.

Despite being the one to instigate this, you’re awfully apprehensive, not daring to even twitch incase it rattles him and sets him scrambling away. The two of you are like a pair of squirrels, slowly approaching to sniff each other, curious yet easily frightened.

His hot breath rushes down your spine like smoke. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking. Is he as nervous as you? Do you feel comfortable to him as he does to you? Or is he already falling asleep?

You should close your eyes and try to. Though who are you kidding? You’d never manage to catch a wink when you’re an accidental turn of a face away from kissing him, at least not right away anyway, not until you calm yourself down with a mental meditation exercise or something.

The urge to check if he’s indeed asleep is yanking at you, but you use all your willpower to resist, not wanting to risk rousing him when he’s as skittish as you.

But then you feel it.

Him.

It’s subtle at first, just a gentle pressure at your bottom.

Innocent and untainted as you are, you don’t even realise what it is at first, so you shift your hips unconsciously.

Then it’s stiffness grows, and grows, until it’s a baton poking at your rear.

Something in your core ignites, your chest constricts, and a wildfire of lust you’ve never felt before smoulders from your scalp to your toes before finally rooting itself in your sex. Ten hells, Jungkook’s boner is touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner and it’s touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner because of you and it’s touching your ass.

Your brain is devoid of all senses except a formidable hunger for him. Suddenly, though he’s almost surrounding you completely, the only thing you can feel is his hard member prodding you.

Is he asleep or not, you need to know.

Then a strange force possesses your lower half, and like a puppet on a string, your ass sinks back further onto him until his length is tunnelled between your cheeks.

The softest moan escapes him, almost a gasp even.

You think he’s going to say something, move away or stand up and leave. Instead he pulls himself away and slowly thrusts forward again. His clothed length slides smoothly up your crack, brushing ever so slightly over your slit. It sends a wave of arousal convulsing up your core, so powerful you almost choke.

Continuing to encourage him, your hips move in tandem with his, rubbing your ass all over his pulsing erection, occasionally letting it slide between your thighs against your clit. A pleasured mewl escapes, though you’re not sure who from. You’ve never felt anything like this, the ruin that overtakes your core at the friction. This is a divine sensation, luxury of the gods.

Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist as his pace increases, his breathing slowly shifting into wavering panting. Finally you succumb to the urge to twist around to look at him. Your heart erupts at the pure devastation contorting his face. His brows angled in pleasure, teeth clamped down on his lip to suppress those unholy noises, lids hanging heavy at the weight of his thirst for you. When his eyes lock on yours, something unleashes in him and devours you wholly.

Fire and ice. His lips feel like both fire and ice. Fire because your entire mind is burning at his smoothness, fuelled by your unkempt want for him to take over you. Ice because everything that isn’t him feels numb and insignificant, and your feelings for this man holding you is the purest flake of snow.

Your first kiss, and it’s already the best kiss you’ll ever have, you’re sure. Because the way his lips meld onto your, the desperation in the way he leans so far into you, the heat of his arousal forging it’s mark between your legs. Nothing in this world can top that.

‘Noona.’ He sighs into you. It drives you absolutely insane.

Fingers grappling in his wavy locks, you reposition yourself completely to face him. His length twitches against you as your leg swings behind him to pull him closer. He is holding your neck with a heartbreaking delicacy, thumb stroking your jaw like it’s the most fragile of chinas.

‘Jung-’ You whimper. ‘Koo…’

Tasting of mint, his tongue gently laps at yours when you open for him. You’re drowning in his essence, lungs filling with his air, though you welcome your sweet painless death like it’s a heavenly gift.

Knowing his docile nature, you move his hand underneath your top, giving him permission to roam freely on your skin. He snakes around your back and circles around your front before finally meeting your sore breasts. As he kneads them tenderly, you feel a warmth ooze out of you into a puddle of concupiscence in your pants.

Oh God.

Your own hands wander beneath his hoodie, raking up the bumps of his god-sculpted abdomen and taking hold of his muscular chest. His wet kisses are a drug, and you’re completely and utterly under its control.

‘Jungkook, I want you.’ You moan.

When his eyes fly open, you’re met with pools of desire, seething into you like jets of lust. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d experience him like this, covetous for you and withering under your touch.

‘Noona… Fuck.’ He trembles as your hand travels down his navel, daring to slide under the band of his sweatpants. ‘I want you so bad, noona.’

The whimper that leaves his mouth when you palm him through his boxers sends a flood of yearning down to your core.

Holy shit.

He feels…

Massive.

Heavy with girth, only about half of his length fits in your palm. You have to stretch your fingers in order to fully encompass him. He is fully at your disposal, groaning, grip tightening on you.

As he huffs into the edge of your jaw, his own hand comes down to find your pussy pulsing for his touch. When his touches your clothed slit, a compulsion forces your hips to buckle forwards. And when he begins to rub circles right on that tender spot, waves upon waves of ecstasy hit you.

Whining like an animal, your head falls back at the newfound pleasure he’s showing you. With you neck presented so openly to him like a platter of dessert, he plants dulcet kisses onto you, his gentleness kindling your fire for him. Despite your attempt to wind your focus back to him, your grip on his erection slackens at his vibrations on your cunt.

‘Can I?’ Jungkook whispers into your ear, softness tickling your lobe. You don’t waste a second before nodding eagerly.

Then his fingers slide underneath your panties. Sensitivity explodes at the contact between the pad of his thumb and your clit. A string of moans release from you. His fingers stroke tactfully up your slick, lubricated by your wetness for him. And when he slides his digit into you, the thread that holds your soul to sanity snaps.

‘Oh my god.’ He pushes through the sleek pressure of your walls. ‘Jungkook.’ The whimper of his name rolling off your tongue sends a rush of blood down to his aching cock.

‘Noona, is that okay?’ The genuity in his voice squeezes your heart.

‘Yes, it feels so, argh, good.’

He latches his lips onto your neck and sucks clouds of lavender to your smooth seamless sky. His finger is slowly pumping in and out. It is a foreign feeling, so strange and unfamiliar, yet all the more exciting. The rise of his knuckles hit your wall at eye-rolling angles. Your hips roll in his rhythm to help him reach newer depths. The pleasure is unforgiving, relentless.

Another feeling gnaws at your chest, a longing to please him.

‘I want to make you feel good, Jungkook.’ You mumble, shy.

He looks up at you, finger gradually ceasing its movement. The pure passion alit in his eyes drives you thrumming for him.

‘O-Okay.’

‘You… You have to teach me though.’ Redness flushes your cheeks.

‘Okay.’ He says again, and you wonder if you’ve broken him at the way he’s frozen.

Sheepishly tugging down his pants, you inch yourself down and settle between his legs, the duvet rested upon your shoulders. He bobs free from the restraint of his apparel.

Your eyes bulge at his cock that is, despite the darkness, standing tall and proud, beaming at you. How is that monster going to fit inside you?

A strong vein runs down the course of his length. Angry red tip swollen and trickling with a clear liquid. You look up to find him staring helplessly down at you, gulping. A nervous fear is eating away at your throat; you’ve never done this before, how are you supposed to know how right now?

‘Teach me.’ Your fingers come around the base of his shaft and he gasps audibly.

‘Uh-’ Another gulp. ‘Lick the tip.’

You lick the tip. Drawing your tongue over his engorged head, tasting his salty precum that continues to leak out of him profusely. He curses.

‘Like that?’ Your mouth doesn’t leave him as you say.

‘Mhmm.’ He runs his hand through his dark locks in exasperation. ‘Suck on it gently.’

You suck on it gently. Lips wrapped around his tip like a vacuum while you breath him in. Your cheeks hollow. You look up at him for approval. One eye is clamped shut, the other is barely held open to witness the most seraphic scene.

‘Fuck, noona, like this.’

You try to take in more, letting his wide cock slide into your mouth, careful not to scrape your teeth against his hilt. When he hits the back of your throat, you gag and splutter around him. Embarrassment shoots at you, yet when you glance up, he doesn’t seem to care.

Instead, he brushes your hair behind your ear and coos, ‘Careful, noona.’ He’s so sweet, so dear, you feel a crack in your heart.

So you try again, this time slower, swallowing as much of him as you can. Your hand swirl around his shaft while his massages the back of your scalp. You roll your tongue around his head every time you come up, flickering at his slit. Soon, your pace increases along with your confidence. Jungkook is a mess under you, thighs quivering, toes curling. Humming in satisfaction, your vibrations resonate into his dick and he yelps.

‘Noona, stop before I cum.’ The way he pleads sends your cunt throbbing. You pull his member out of your mouth almost obscenely, inhaling sharply for air.

He gently places you on your back, finger tracing your drenched lips in endearment. ‘Was that ok?’

‘That was perfect, noona. Are you sure that was your first time?’ Doe eyes wide in awe of you. You giggle and nod, glowing in timid pride. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

At that, the reality of this situation hits you. This is happening, this is actually happening. You’re going to have sex for the first time. With Jungkook.

Are you sure you want to do this?

You are sure you want to do this. If not with him, then no one else.

‘Yes.’ You state firmly, eyes never once wavering from his.

His gaze on you is so soft, yet so intense, you want to melt under him. ‘Okay. I- I need to go find a condom in Jimin’s room.’

Fuzzy with your feelings for him, you watch him scramble off in the dark to the other room. Loud clangs echo down the hall, you can’t help but smile at the thought of him digging through Jimin’s pig sty, frantically searching with his rock hard cock.

Jungkook returns moments later to the sight of you completely naked on his bed. Gaping like a little boy, he almost falls onto you as he climbs onto the bed while he tears off his own top. For a minute, you two just stare at each other’s bodies, allowing the beauty to sink in and etch itself forever in your souls.

‘Noona, you’re so beautiful. Do you know that?’ He leans over to kiss all over your face.

A warm prickle sieges your heart. No one has ever called you beautiful before. Emotion floods you like an ocean, and you’re suddenly met with a familiar sting behind your eyes.

He hovers over your lips, nose rubbing on yours so lovingly you want to cry. You’re at a loss for words, so you just nod, not daring to peep a sound lest a tear escapes from you.

His hands are shaking as he rolls on the condom. Prudently, he kisses up your inner thighs before spreading them open with care. Finally, he pecks the top of your flower fondly.

Then slowly he rests his elbow beside your head and situate himself between your legs. Both your breaths are wobbly, you search his face for security and find it. His irises reflect his galaxy - you. And your fear ebbs away.

Stroking his tip along your wetness, he kisses the shell of your ear. ‘Are you really really sure?’

‘Yes, Jungkook.’ Your fingers entangle in his hair assuringly.

‘Tell me to stop if it hurts a lot. Promise, noona?’ His concern is heart wrenching.

‘Promise.’ You whisper, other hand locking with his.

Only then does he begin to ease into you. At first you don’t feel much, just his tip diving into you. Then the rest of his length pushes in, plunging through a tremendous pressure built into your walls. Pain blooms inside you as he enters deeper and deeper, it’s an ache that you anticipated but never imagined. You both cry out, though for different reasons.

‘Are you okay?’ You can tell he’s struggling to stay still, shoulders tensing at the temptation to thrust again.

‘Mhmm.’ You manage to gripe. Because despite the blinding pain, you are okay.

‘I’m gonna go as slow as I can.’ He ensures you, fingers tightening around yours.

When he plunges into you again, you expect the hurt to lessen, but it doesn’t. It overwhelms your whole body, yanking inside you. Though, every time he kisses your lips so tenderly, your forget the soreness he’s impaling into you for a fresh second. Opening your eyes, you see him panting at your tightness, trying with every muscle in his body not to go wild at you.

‘Fuck, noona.’ He exhales, forehead rested on yours.

Seeing him so berserk with pleasure calms your running anxiety. His thrusts inevitably quickens, and you just about begin to see pass the pain. Behind the ache, there’s a gratifying sting clenching your walls. The slap of his hips against your thighs ring loud.

‘Still okay?’ Jungkook asks again, worry painting his face at your silence.

‘Yes, you can go faster.’ You answer despite the ever-present soreness. When he drives hard into you, stars and tears blurring your vision.

Something in him snaps as you feel him twitch inside you. His movements grow sloppy and feral, just like the grunts that he heaves. Chasing his climax, you can tell how close he is to his sweet release.

‘Oh- Noona, I’m so cl-ose.’ He’s whimpering into your neck.

‘Jungkook, baby. Come for me.’

At your name for him, he goes crazy, ramming into you with a strength and stamina that you couldn’t expect less of from him. ‘Noona…’ He begs. The pressure inside you is easing, pain dulling, though you know you won’t feel any pleasure this time round.

Then, in one last powerful push, he ejects into you with a loud cry. You pull his lips to yours immediately to soothe his euphoria. This look of pure pleasure on his face rips you to shred as he refuses to let go of your hand. His hips jerk into yours to ride out is high as his whole body deflates onto you.

Although it’s a freezing night, goosebump plaguing both your skins, neither of you feel cold. Instead, you are enshrouded by the warmth of your passion and desire, all you feel is each other.

You, wrapped tightly around him, and him, spasming inside you.

Heavy with exhaustion, he nuzzles up to kiss you. Long, slow and hard. You have never truly appreciated his beauty until this point, under the subtle snow-clouded moon, eyes boring into you with a never-dimming glow of adoration.

Jungkook removes himself from you, hastily disposing the condom to not miss a moment by your side. Dressing you first so you don’t catch a breeze of cold, his touch feels so much warmer, gentler.

Snuggled up under the covers, he holds you so close to him that you hear his beating heart. For a timeless passage, you stare into each other wordlessly, fingers tracing delicately over every patch of skin.

‘Y/N...’ He muses out loud. ‘Y/N… You don’t know how perfect you are…’

Again, he has rendered you speechless.

Caressing your cheek in his palm, he continues. ‘I wish you could see yourself through my eyes because then you would understand why I’m so completely in love with you.’

At his words, your throat constrict. ‘What?’ You choke out.

‘I’m in love with you, noona.’ His lips are trembling, chest pounding against you. Disquietude emanates from how he’s peering at you.

‘Oh.’

‘I don’t know how you never knew, I mean- I guess it’s pretty obvious from the way I act around you. Even Yoongi-hyung spotted it right away…’ He begins to ramble, focus hopping to the collar of your jumper that he’s toying with. ‘I just… I don’t know. There’s something so special about you that I can’t find in anyone else. I thought it was just a crush but... but then you moved in with us and… And my feelings for you just drove me insane. That’s why I kept trying to avoid you. I know I wouldn’t be able to hide it if I actually spent time with you, I’m kinda stupid when it comes to girls if you can’t tell already.

‘But the truth is,’ he takes a deep breath and sighs, ‘I am truly, deeply, madly in love with you, Y/N noona. Everything about you. The way you devour jajangmyeon as easily as breathing. The way you never go a day in winter without wearing these fuzzy socks. The way you only drink lattes and chamomile tea. The way you would rather spend your friday nights curled up with a book. The way you pretend to find Jimin annoying but secretly love the attention he gives you. The way you rushed out to find me in the snow and forgot the bring your keys. And the way you can’t talk to me without stuttering just like how I can’t look you in the eye when we have a conversation.

‘I know this is a lot to spring onto you, and I don’t expect you to love me back at all. But just know that I’m here for you whenever you need. I’m your furnace in a snowstorm, hand warmer in a blizzard. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same for me, I’ll still be here.’

Jungkook finishes with a final huff.

You stare at him, dumbfounded by his confession. Emotion floods your veins at the revelation, and you can all but break down into sobs. Jaw gaping, you regard him from his arms, trying to piece together your scattered thoughts.

‘Noona, say someth-’

You kiss him, urgently and desperately. Like you’ve been drowning in a sea of lostness, aimlessly floating about to try to find your way, and he’s your first gulp of air. Mist of perplexity is finally starting to clear away, and you see the path ahead of you with crystal lucidity.

It’s Jungkook. Jungkook, who knows your favourite colour when even your own mother doesn’t. Jungkook, who waddled out into the freezing snow to buy you new socks. Jungkook, who so gently and delicately made love to you tonight. Jungkook, who has loved you unconditionally and will continue doing so regardless of your feelings towards him.

‘I think… I think I’m falling truly, deeply, madly in love with you too, Jungkook.’

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End

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extras: christmas special

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@shookpreme @hazelelizabeth99 @teenage-hippie @bunbundesu @tangledsparkles @gingerpeachtae idk who wanted to be tagged lol 😬

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02/09/2019

© Copyright 2019

[thecaptainhelm]

Every Tap of My Heart

Here’s a  valentine’s gift for @savagenutella46, whose a lovely person! Here’s my gift of writer love for a fellow maribat enthusiast, hope you have a wonderful day fit for a wonderful person. xoxo uwu [insert heart heart winky face heart eyes rose]

Thanks to the moderator @eat0crow for setting this up so nicely, ily all!

In a small office, one of the many in the college of liberal arts building, two people sat across from one another in an awkward manner. One, a rather tall, tan, and robust young man with a relaxed and loose posture, and the other, a much smaller brown, older gentleman, salt and peppered hair and frown lines around his mouth.

“Mr. Wetherby,” the young man said in greeting.

“Jonathan.” Mr. Wetherby deadpanned in return. There was a slight pause between the two before the older gentleman spoke again.

“Well, how are you progressing with your midterm project Jonathan? You were well ahead of your peers the last I observed. I trust you have maintained this pace?”

Jon grinned at this, rather than being intimidated by the scholarly demeanor of his professor. Many of his classmates were intimidated by Mr. Wetherby if not for his surprisingly deep voice, then for the juxtaposition of his gentle appearance and his strict teaching. He had only ever felt amused.

“Yes sir, everything is going well. I’ve already checked the business’s schedule and set a meeting with the owner to have a short interview. Everything is totally in order.”

Mr. Wetherby stoically gazed at Jon’s silly grin as they conversed and didn’t say anymore. He simply nodded, typed a few phrases in the computer and turned the screen to Jon. 

“Very good. With this the meeting is complete and you’ve received full marks for the student-teacher progress report. Have a nice day, Jonathan.”

“Right sir, thank you sir, you too sir,” Jon smiled, bright and goofy, unmoving from his seat.

Mr. Wetherby gained a slight tick near his temple.

“Mr. Kent.” The young man blinked, tilting his head with a look comparable to a puppy dog.

“Yes, Mr. Wetherby?”

“You may leave now,” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Have. A good. Day.”

“Right sir, of course sir!” Jon bounced up and carelessly packed his things away. “Have a good day sir!” He energetically left the room and before the remaining occupant could so much as sigh, Jon popped back in, dark hair flopping into his eyes.

“Oh yeah, are we still on for patrol or are you going to call in--”

“Beat it, Corncob!”

“Hahaha!” Jon cackled and dashed away to complete his assignment. Anyone who saw him would do a double take. It seemed as though he was gliding on air, though he wasn’t moving particularly fast. People shrugged and moved about their day, too busy to really care.

Jon Kent was just strange like that.

Sometime later in the evening, the tall and somewhat awkwardly bulky Jon Kent nervously shuffled his way through Metropolis, carefully moving around busy pedestrians and apologizing in a fluster when he didn’t move carefully enough. He knocked into one final person and sheepishly grinned at the irate grunt before arriving at his target location. La Bonne Fée.

The building was sizable, enough space for a backroom, restrooms, a cozy kitchen facility, counter, and booths for people to sit and relax, with enough space left over to not feel compact. The furnishings were all warm, comfortable and the decorations had a slight vintage feel from a  bygone era of classy etiquette and manners. Through the door he could clearly hear the music of an old school juke-box, playing a Jagged Stone album.

Jon had come to such a café to ask the owner for an interview for the school financial magazine’s new column dedicated to new and upcoming businesses.

Some would ask if Jon lost his touch, others if he was touched in the head. Why would he interview a brand new café, one not even a part of a chain, when they were practically all over the city selling the same thing as their competitors.

Jon swallowed hard, and knocked on the softwood door. He picked up a jumping pulse and saw though the window a head of dark hair quickly poke out from behind the counter. His palms had become sweaty and his own heart jumped in his chest when soft footsteps quickly paced to the door and was pulled open with a silent, breathless smile.

“Jon, hey!” Marinette Dupain-Cheng looked up at him with bright grey eyes, almost silver under the city lights and his heart really kicked into high gear then, only slightly less embarrassing when he heard her heart doing the same.

“Glad you could make it,” She nervously fixed the hem of her sweater and pulled her apron on straight.

“Me too,” He smiled at her and was fine getting lost on her eyes before she cleared her throat and held the door wider.

“Would you like to, um if you would--?”

“Oh right, yeah, yeah, yes please, um,” Jon gulped and grinned strangely. He walked in with small quick steps through the door, taking extra care to not bump into her and send the smaller woman three inches through the flooring. God, he wouldn’t ever live that down if that actually happened.

“Well, I’ll grab some refreshments while you set everything up. Be back in a bit,” Marinette grinned as she led him to a booth near the front, out of view of the windows and moved to the counter with a stiff gait. He sat, pulling out his notebook, his voice recorder, pencils and two copies of the agreed upon interview questions. He fiddled with the materials, trying to distract himself from Marinette’s sounds, her heartbeat, her slight hitches in breath as she moved, the sound her petite fingers made when rubbing against the foam cups, all to no avail.

Yes, that’s a suspicious amount of attention to a single, pretty young woman in the city, but he couldn’t help it. He pressed down on the indentation of his index finger, reveling in the simultaneous sensations of hearing and feeling her heartbeat in person.

He couldn’t help it because she was his soulmate.

Jon’s soulmate mark was one he had from birth, thought to be a deformity but what was actually a touch based soul mark. Pressing it would allow him to feel the pulse and heartbeat of his soulmate, so long as they were alive in this life. The doctors had actually thought there might be a twin or a second heart while he was in the womb, but an x-ray via Superman showed that he was a  lone healthy baby. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a small, triracial young woman, with delicate features, a barely noticeable spread of freckles across a small nose and round grey eyes that turned into happy crescents when she beamed wide and unrestrained. This was all he knew about her, from their brief interactions while they set up the interview, all skin deep and superficial knowledge that he wanted to get past. 

This was his soulmate and he knew he shouldn’t rush, but there were so many things that she would have to know about him, things he shouldn’t and couldn’t hide from her, at least not forever, but how was he going to bring up being a superhero? No, wait, how was he going to bring up being half extraterrestrial?! She’d freak!

He tried to relax. He only found out the Marinette was his soulmate when he asked if she would let him interview her and couldn’t help but compare her heart rate to the one on his finger, further panicking when he saw her press her fingertips together in glee and saw the imprint of his finger upon her own. From there he saw that her index finger would snugly fit the imprint on his and he knew it, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his soulmate, that special person the universe found matched perfectly to him in every way that counted. He’d studied and pressed and listened to this heartbeat, wanting to press his head against her back to study and listen in the flesh for years, all before he knew who she was and that she was his and he was hers.

He pressed on it as she walked back to their booth, watching and smiling as she relaxed somewhat, lightly stroking her thumb along her finger as she set the tray of cookies and coffea, the cafe’s specialty fusion drink.

“Sorry for the wait,” She neatly placed the cookies between them after setting down their drinks. He watched the quick and graceful way she tucked the tray into her seat beside her before sending him a dazzling grin that briefly scrambled his brain.

He gaped before managing to stutter out a lame “no trouble” and Marinette merely grinned, cheeks pink. He could dually understand her heart at this time and couldn’t help becoming more flustered. His dumb brain was making him think Marinette had a crush on him, when she was probably just nervous and excited for the interview.

Yeah, that’s all there is to it, nothing more to it at all, he told himself while watching her cheeks darken. 

It wasn’t anything more.

“Well, here’s to a good interview?” Marinette nervously giggled as she raised her cup and Jon did the same without a second thought, only realizing his mistake when she saw his soulmark and paled, honing in like a bat out of hell. He tensed trying to think of an excuse or a lie or something to say but he was stuck. Hope clogged his throat and desire pressed down his tongue.

“You have a soulmark?” She asked after a lengthy pause.

“Y-yes, I do.” His voice cracked from bad nerves and excitement.

“I do too. Touch based.” Her eyes pierced through his soul and pinned him on the spot. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.

“Cool. Super cool! I have one too, touch based like yours, yep! Cool!” Jon bobbed his head fervently, searching her gaze and found that she seemed to have the same idea as him. Her hand stretched to the middle of the table and waited for him to meet her in the middle. When he reached, slow and steady, it exposed the subtle quaking of his hand, revealing his inner feelings. He was comforted by the fact that her hand was shaking across from him too. It was a relief she felt the same.

Finally, the fingers touched, a small pale finger tapping two knuckles against the back of his. His shoulders tensed, Marinette mirroring him beat for beat as shoulder collapsed in devastation.

If Jon had thought that feeling Marinette’s heartbeat secondhand was an amazing feeling, then all the wonders of the accumulated sensation were nothing compared to this one touch. The pure physical sensation of another being pulsed through him, the echoing din that had been with him unnoticed all this time becoming known as he melted into himself, feeling it destroy him gently and lovingly.

“Wow,” Marinette breathed shakily. “Wow, I’ve, I never thought,”--an incredulous laugh-- “That was…”

She trailed off taking in his enraptured expression.

“Yeah, me too.” He grinned in wonder. His eyes bored into her own, falling deeper into her spell.

They stared at each other before Marinette finally broke the silence.

“Bonsoir.” She extended her other hand, unwilling to break contact.

“Hi.” He firmly grasped it, giving a strong shake. “Jonathan Kent, miss. Pleased to meet you.”

Marinette smiled beatifically. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The pleasure is all mine, Jon.”

The End