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#somehow i didn't realize this until JUST NOW
itsonlydana · 2 days
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Find a cure for my heart | hobbit
pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑
On the eve of the battle, you and Thranduil spent a night that spurred a flurry of letters while Dale grew as a city and you both grew too, first apart, then closer again. However, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the truth that your health was deteriorating with each passing day.
warnings/tags: sickness, angst, mentions of death (reader is actively dying but only realizes after Thranduil helps) hurt/comfort, happy end
words: 5,6k
an: finally finished this fic after working on it since January. If you are interested in being tagged when I post new fics– comment that under this post or send it to me in my inbox!
+ masterlist + rules
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
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Contrary to general belief, the elves did not return to their forests immediately after the battle.
In the stories told, there would be remarks, on how the Elvenking offered his help to the yet-to-be-crowned King Bard once more, bringing aid with however warriors he had left for disposal to search the endless chaos and ruins of Dale for survivors until many sunsets later.
They would speak about the sorrow of losing friends and family and neighbors to a war that had been won at costs no one could comprehend yet, and they would mention how the great Elvenking guided them through the darkest of nights for he had experienced this all before; the grief, the helplessness and the colossal question of What now, who's to say we haven't lost ourselves as well as those we have to bury?
Many had their own experience with the Elvenking, whether it was a hand pulling them off the ground, a loaf of bread delivered to them after days of fighting, or a warm blanket to huddle under to finally lay their body to rest under the watchful eye of Elves that had sworn to protect them.
You had your own story. A different one.
But it wasn't one with the Elvenking, no; the night before the battle, where the air was filled with the sound of blades being sharpened and children crying for their parents, you had met Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves but most importantly: a set of strong arms that caught you as you stumbled out of Bard's tent.
You needed to run away from the discussions over how to draw the dwarfs out of the mountain.
You'd been a friend to Bard for many long years but standing in that luscious tent, being offered wine as the Wizard, Bard, and the Hobbit pondered over what was about to happen while you weren't sure your mind caught up on what had happened already, there was no room for friendship inside your panic-riddled chest.
Just as you flung open the tent flaps and tried to dash away to get some air, your foot caught on a root, and had it not been for Thranduil's fast reflexes, you surely would've planted your face into the dirt and mud.
Up until now, you had no idea what had transcended between the two of you at the moment where his arms held you up, his softening face looking down at your widened eyes filled with tears and your tongue too tied up and heavy to say anything other than: "Air– please"
Whatever it had been, likely an unspoken wish – by Thranduil or you, or maybe you both; it didn't matter – for someone who would not pass judgment over the urge to disappear from your skin and role and crown for one night, a fallen star flung across the darkened skies at the right time.
It felt as though Thranduil had pulled a sheet over your heads; your world narrowed down to this other soul and how beautiful and divine his body felt on yours as you found a way to survive the night before life as you knew it turned once more and the solid ground beneath your feet shifted and broke.
A few nights, while unforgettable and brooding with feelings neither of you admitted to, did not change that you had to move on somehow.
Although the Elves did not depart for Mirkwood immediately and Thranduil and you were given time in the aftermath to find the other in the cover of the night and under the pretense this was nothing more than mere distraction, a wishing star could only do so much shining before dimming out.
The day you awoke to a sunrise bathing the debris of Dale in a pinkish and warm light, pillars being rebuilt dipped into molten gold, and the cracks glued together, Thranduil's strong arms were wrapped around your middle as if he wanted to hinder you from sneaking away, you knew it was him who would leave you before the day was over.
And so he did.
Sunrise came and went and soon enough all the tents were packed up on horseback and wagons, leaving flattened grass as the only reminder they had been there at all if and there were goodbyes, political between Bard and the Elvenking who parted from the weary man and his children with the promise of support, and between you and Thranduil in the form of a slow nod.
Thranduil sat high on a dark stallion, dressed in silver and long robes that hid fingerprints that spoke of an attempt to cling to transience. His chin lowered, though his eyes were fixed on you.
You knew that nod carried the conversation you had whispered into the morning mist.
And it was all that wasn't said that motivated you to step away first and turn your back on the caravan that took away a King and a Lover.
There was much to do, the looming task of building up Dale needed everyone's full attention, and that included you.
Especially you.
There were houses to plan, accommodations to be made so that no one needed to sleep under the stars.
No one could ever pry the reason why you were keen on getting a roof under everyone out of your hands; a lonely part of you wanted the stars to remember you and Thranduil lying in the grass. And no one else.
The first letter arrived a few weeks after you hadn't had the heart to watch him go and threw yourself into one task after the other, dismissing even the smallest hint of sickness, like the heaviness inside your chest every time you lifted something heavy, or tiredness crashing down onto you in moments to catch your breath, to continue working, that you wouldn't find a moment to admit how much you missed him.
That utterly ridiculous mindset stopped as soon as the messenger Elf rode into the city and hand-delivered you the first of many envelopes with the nearly indecipherable handwriting of Thranduil.
Or the Elvenking.
Because the first letter, despite being addressed to you as well as Bard, who wouldn't have been able to read it in the first place, was a list of things the King would send and a question of what else was needed that he could provide.
"It's fine," you said to Bard through a smile that didn't reach your eyes as you read aloud the letter twice, from the greeting to the last paragraph that was signed 'the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Mirkwood and friend of Dale'.
In the flickering light of the candle dripping wax onto the table between you, the dark circles under Bard's eyes were all the more prominent than when he was running around the city and there was a bottomless pit in your stomach that wouldn't want to add to the many things he was already worrying about.
"It's totally fine," you said to Bard when he asked if you had skipped over a private note from Thranduil or if there truly wasn't one (there wasn't, you had turned the letter over and over in your hands until the edges became soft and wrinkled) and you both knew that to be a lie.
You answered the letter in the same professional manner because even though you wanted to, you couldn't send a letter to a King helping however he could and expecting nothing in return with a smeared "I wish for your heart and our nights and for your voice to tell me we are alright" written under tears in another sleepless night.
The next few letters follow the same pattern, Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion would inquire if there was anything Dale needed and answer Bard's question on leadership and share his knowledge of what was fundamental for a new King, and you would write for Bard on the other side.
The weeks passed and so did the hope of rekindling that fire you had thought to burn in the both of you.
That Thranduil didn't see the need to reach out was a punch to the gut that left little room for anything else but disappointment of putting your effort into pulling on a rope that wasn't attached to something on the other end.
Why waste the dwindling energy of your exhausted body on someone who would live longer than the memory of you?
Every time a new letter arrived by messenger you would find Bard until one late evening you opened the letter by yourself and saw your name written in that beautiful sharp handwriting, not Bard's added in front or behind; only your given name and not your title.
Your hands shook as you stood in the frame of what was to be your house and the ink glued together the cracks of your heart.
'Forgive me for not writing to you sooner and for how sentimental I must sound. It has been weeks since I last saw you and every time I wander through my familiar halls, I find there is no soul around that could understand me how you did, whom I could tell what plagues my mind. The time we spent together has not left my thoughts. Neither has the promise to not grow apart too much and I apologize for not contributing to that. Now, if you would still have me, I would like nothing more than to hear how you are faring. As for me…'
Nothing had the power to stop you from running off that giddy feeling that spread through your chest as Thranduil, finally Thranduil, wrote about the happenings in Mirkwood; not even the cough that sat deep where suppressed laughter spilled into the grass you fell into– the letter clutched into your hands.
Thranduil and you fell into a routine then, one that was no obstruction for the many tasks at hand but made room for each other to hold on to the promise.
You would send out two letters, one on behalf of Bard whom you taught his signature as well as a few more words every fortnight you sat down together, and one addressed to Thranduil, filled with all the thoughts that ran through your mind that you wanted to tell him.
It was by no means as precious as the talks you had now many weeks ago, not when there were days you had to wait for a response instead of seconds.
You appreciated them all the same, every bit of himself that Thranduil wrote into his messages was countered with a confession of your own.
When he said he wished to know where his son had disappeared to or rather if he followed the direction Thranduil had given to him, you admitted to the nightmares that still plagued your mind, the dreams of fire and a monster that still rested in the lake.
You offered piece after piece, chipped bits of your heart into every letter that you sent away, and after a few weeks had passed, and Dale was taking shape with its houses raking their roofs to the sky and its people planting seeds and flowers, rooting themselves into what now was theirs, there was not much left of your heart that was completely yours and not Thranduil's and the letters of his proved that the same could be said about him.
What you did not mention, not with one drop of ink, was that the nightmares were no longer confined to the few hours of sleep you fell into.
There was a dragon, not just in the cold lake where your old home lay in ashes and was drowned in the ruthless darkness, but by the heavy weight on your chest, it felt like there was one inside you as well.
You were coughing as if there was smoke blocking your lungs, blackening out what little air you heaved for when a coughing fit took over your whole body.
It started small, a cough then, a sleepless night there; both accumulated to an uncountable amount and it got only worse as the season changed and the autumn winds lost their last warm touches and the trees bared their wooden arms.
You waved it off as a common cold, nothing that would hinder you from your tasks to becoming a liability the city didn't need in its time of growth.
Then, the coughing got worse, rougher, sometimes taking your voice for a moment until you found some water although that only helped for a small moment, like trying to extinct a burning building with just the water your bare hands could carry.
The worst part was the blood that stained the cloths, the sweats that not only held you awake at night but weakened you at day as well.
"I'm better!" you promised Bard on a night when he had to sit next to your bed, wringing out the cold cloths that lay on your fevered forehead.
His voice was a low whisper when he dabbed away the sweat, pushing your wet hair back with hands that were far too gentle for what you deserved for rotting in bed and not pulling your weight, "You're not, an' that's clear for everyone but you. Did you tell him?"
"Yes," you lied through your teeth, eyelids dropping close from exhaustion but you knew sleep wouldn't come, "he said it would pass, nothing to worry 'bout."
Three days later you were on your legs again, if not a bit shaky and needing more breaks than ever.
You sat in Bard's kitchen, a warm bowl of soup in front of you that tasted like ash and firewood, and ignored the silent pleading in his eyes to tell him what was going on and why you could barely lift the spoon of a soup that you clearly did not enjoy.
Winter wore your body down like rough sandpaper on soft oak, the cold winds and dark hours an enemy far worse than what you had to encounter on the battlefield. This had no logical explanation, nor was there an enemy you could see.
Your own body betrayed you and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it.
You knew that somewhere was a solution to it all, that was the string of hope leading you through the snow outside and the fire in your blood and bones, singing down what little fight was left on the days when the sun pushed away gray clouds and you felt normal and healthy.
The sole reason why you lied in letters filled with otherwise honesty as pure as heaven's snowflakes was that you did not want to be a bother.
Thranduil wrote how much of his time the dwarfs and their trading demands swallowed; he did not need another burden and you would be damned if he came because you had a small cold you couldn't get rid of.
You had promised Thranduil to visit him in spring when the soil was rich enough for the seed to take and the livestock could roam the meadows. If you weren't better by then you would ask him.
Until then work demanded all of you. Even if that was through a white knuckle grip on the last bits of health in aching bones.
Spring brought forth daffodils pushing through the cobblestone streets. Tilda, the youngest Bardling and a wonderful distraction on the days when getting out of bed was the hardest bounced excitedly beside you and pointed at the flowers.
"Like stubborn trumpets proclaiming winter is finally over!" she said as you followed her outside. "Spring is finally here!"
You disregarded the pain echoing through your body, the weight of guilt forcing you to spend the day with the girl.
She had been knocking on your door every morning, angelic eyes asking if you wanted to come and play with the lambs that she had taken too and this morning, you couldn't disappoint her.
"Aren't they just so pretty?" Tilda crouched down, gently cupping one of the blossoms in her small hands.
Lowering your gaze from the burning brightness of the sun you got a short glimpse at the yellow dots decorating your doorstep.
Then, suddenly, black spots appeared on the edge of your vision, taking you by surprise though they have been your companion for the better part of the last few days.
"Tilda–"
You tried to hold on to your doorframe, bruised hands frantically searching for a grip on the warm wood but they slipped and caught only the edge.
The last thought that crossed your mind was that you should bring Thranduil some of those flowers before you blinked and crumbled to the ground.
You woke up to the confusing taste of grass on your heavy tongue and the dizzying realization that you were not spread out on the street but tugged inside your bed.
Above you, moonlight fell through the opened window in the slanted roof above your head and you immediately closed your eyes again.
This had to be a dream.
Though your dreams had not been like this in a long time.
Peaceful. Comfortably warm. Silent except for the croaking of toads, the buzzing of insects outside, and the laughter and clattering of your neighbors probably enjoying the night more than you.
A groan passed your lips as you tried to sit up; a seemingly impossible task with the heaviness of your bones as well as the mountain of blankets that covered you.
"What do you think you are doing?" a voice you knew all too well sneered.
For a second you thought it to be a hallucination, a projection or your dazed mind still lulled in the fog of unconsciousness.
The bones in your neck cracked as your head snapped to the other side. There was no way you did not imagine the tall figure that should be across the woods in his palace; not in your bedroom.
"What are you doing here?"
"Merely strolling through the neighborhood," Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm, yet a subtle tension marked his stance beside the bed. "Now, enlighten me. Did you conveniently forget to mention this sickness in your letters?"
Ah, straight to the point.
"It's trivial," you waved it off, attempting to assert yourself by sitting up.
Naturally, consciousness promptly slipped away once more.
This time you were not that surprised by the sharp taste of grass on your lips when you came to your senses once more, pushed back into the pillows that had never felt this stuffed. You were still unable to move your leg more than from one side to the other under the blankets and Thranduil was still there, glaring at you through dark furrowed brows and hardened eyes.
You wanted to say something to break the heavy silence but all that passed your lips was a giggle that was more desperate and closer to insane than amusement.
One brow lifted. "Oh, how glad I am you are entertained by this," said Thranduil. He was as rigid in a frightening calm way but all of that was overshadowed by the cloud of confusion that muddled your thoughts.
"Noo," you drew out the word and continued giggling. This had to be insanity. "You jus' look very out of place here – wait. Turn around? I need to make sure you're really here."
He didn't fit into the cramped space of your house, his fine clothing stood out against the poor backdrop of crooked furniture, used towels hanging over stools, and the small layer of dust that covered the areas you hadn't been able to clean in a while; which was most of the bedroom and you didn't dare think about the state of the kitchen.
Where he deserved a throne out of gold you could only offer the chair next to your bed, the one that was crooked and leaned heavily to one side.
That being said, nothing took away the sheer amount of power he radiated.
It easily filled every nook and cranny or tight corner of your humble house, his voice as well as the image of Thranduil, King of the Elves, towering over your bed in long robes and bathed in the light of the night sky, glittering silver like the moon knew the importance of the Elf in front of you.
Thranduil remained stoically still. "I will definitely not do that," he said. "I am here. Where I should have been a while ago."
The accusation would have hit harder if you weren't drugged up on whatever medicine he had apparently fed you while you were out cold.
You shrugged your shoulders as well as you could with your arms bundled under the blankets. "I saw no reason, it was just a cold. Nothing I couldn't manage."
Well, you hadn't managed to handle it, that was the worst realization of the whole lie.
"Clearly," Thranduil said sarcastically and ground his teeth against each other. His arms were behind his stiff back and the way he tilted his head down to you made you feel like a child being admonished for bad behavior. "Do you know how much despair I felt when Bard's letter arrived this morning?" His voice was even but there was a resonance in it – a deep rumble akin to the ominous approach of distant thunderstorms over the sea. "Nearly indecipherable scrambles where he begged me to come; telling me that you have been asleep for two whole days?"
A crack in the form of a small tremor broke through the mask of the all-mighty Elvenking.
"This morning?" you asked, caught up by the first part and ignorant of everything that followed after, and you huffed while running the calculations through your head. "Thranduil, this can not be, the journey is not manageable in one day."
"Is this truly the point you consider most important?" He closed his eyes as a pained expression passed over his face. "You deem it impossible, yet I assure you, nothing could have hindered my arrival here; the boundaries of possibility, for once, were not a barrier but an aid. It reveals your scant regard for your circumstance if your worry fixates on my journey through the land. Not on the sickness that nearly stole you from this world. Two days –" Thranduil took a deep breath, "two whole days where those around you had no idea if you would ever awake again."
"But –"
"No, you can speak when I am finished," he commanded sharply. "You were reckless. Ignorant of your health as if your life was not precious." Thranduil spat the words out cold yet they burned. He was blind to the way you flinched and lowered your burning eyes to the blankets.
You shrunk deeper into the pillows, a hollow ache inside your chest that had felt empty from the pain ever since you awoke the first time.
"But –" you repeated helplessly. This time, he allowed you to continue and you did so in a whisper: "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."
"An inconvenience?" he sneered back at you, the flickering lights of a few burned-down candles casting shadows over the creases of anger edged into alabaster skin.
He took a step toward the bed and you saw a twitch in his lips that had you blanching.
The fury brooding inside him was not new, you had seen it on the battlefield before. In ice-cold cuts of his sword as he flawlessly executed the most brutal movements while his face resembled a mask of the most dangerous kind of rage – stillness.
Now, there remained little of that stillness.
"You were a greater inconvenience by nearly throwing away your precious mortal life, all because of your unfathomable stubbornness!"
"There was lots to do!" you snapped back. Shortly but surely, you were fed up with his anger and the insults he was throwing at you. "This town was suffering far more than me and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," you had to bury your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from shaking. "Dale needed me!"
The pale skin was flushed red around his heaving chest and delicate ears. "And I do not?" Thranduil road and his voice boomed through your little bedroom loud enough for the cicadas outside to fall silent.
Immediately, your eyes watered. You felt trapped under his gaze, engulfed in pure heat hotter than any dragon fire.
You searched for a response inside you but found none.
All there was was chaos – the loud beating of your heart against your chest like iron being beaten and shaped though all that was formed was pain sharp like a sword edge; cutting through the layers of protection you had wrapped around your heart.
Thranduil slightly lifted his nose, staring down at you through thick eyebrows and a clenched jawline. "You were dying," he said and his nostrils quivered. "I can not fathom how you through that would not have been a greater inconvenience.
His expressions made up in sound for the lowered voice he'd used to speak about what you previously refused to acknowledge.
Never before had you seen him this out of control of his emotions, not even on the nights he had bedded you where he still had a hold on himself.
The way he stood before you, dressed in fine robes not fit for riding, the hem of them stained by dirt, his boots muddy, and his face full of anguish, it was as if he could have been kneeling at your feet.
You ignored the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"
"It was indeed, and far beyond that."
The tears made it impossible for you to continue looking at him and your head dropped down as a sob broke through you. "I didn't know," you panicked, "It didn't happen fast so… so I thought it'd pass but – and then it got worse and worse and I was so afraid to speak to anyone about it." The words tumbled into your lap, where, under the blankets, your hands were balled to fists now that the strength to do so had returned to your body, "I – I couldn't," the night air stung as your breaths turned into gasps, "They – Bard was exhausted and –"
Thranduil's face softened ever so slightly, pushing away the furious frown. "You are too pure for this world," he said quietly and – dealing a fatal blow to your ever-fragile heart – slowly went down on one knee next to the bed until you were eye to eye and his cold long fingers could gently caress your wet cheek.
He stopped, most of his fingers covered in the glistening tears he'd freed you from and his thumb rested on the plushness of your lower lip. "The world would have lost its sunshine had you perished," his robes rustled as he drew closer, silver hair falling onto the blankets like stars flying across the skies, "You must promise me to be more careful or darkness shall be my companion from that day on."
How could you do anything else but break into tears once more?
They flooded your face too fast for Thranduil to catch them with his hand and he did what seemed more reasonable yet utterly out of character: he rose to push away some of the blankets and sat down on the mattress.
While his face showed some revelation of his thoughts at the meek bed of hay that surprised him, he said nothing except for a lowered: "Hush now, shh." while his arms found your shaking body and pulled you into his side.
He cradled you until there were no more tears to cry, until your cheeks hurt and your lashes clung together awfully damp, and then some more, his hands on your back, cooling down the firing heat that spread through you and the other in your hair. With tenderness, he massaged his fingertips into the areas where your head throbbed uncomfortably.
You cried for all the nights where you had suffered, drawing closer to a death you hadn't seen coming.
You cried out of relief that this was finally over, that you could breathe and inhale only the rich scents of Thranduil instead of smoke.
You sobbed uncontrollably long into the night, not caring one bit that by the time the wailing grew quiet and exhaustion rendered you weak enough to fall into his chest even more, Thranduils robes needed to be padded dry.
"Thranduil?" you asked and burrowed your nose into a spot of fabric that wasn't salty. "Can you tell me what was happening to me?"
He didn't start directly. Thranduil waited, his heart stuttering for a second that made you marvel that the muscle was affected by you at all despite the many proofs he had laid to your feet.
Were it not for the pounding headache you fostered and tried to push away by shutting away all the lights and leaving your eyes closed, you would have looked at his face to check for those minuscule expressions he only showed to you.
"At first I could not figure it out," Thranduil admitted at last and his previously stilled hand continuing the circular movements against your scalp, gathering hair between his fingers, "and that frightened me more than anything else. There was not a scratch or a wound, nothing that explained why you were hardly–" he flinched and his other hand held your waist tighter, "hardly breathing. Bard was the one who explained how much you fought against this illness all winter, ever since autumn to be precise. He spoke of the meals you denied, the coughing and shaking, the blood-soaked cloths, and how.. how you rarely slept and if you did, he told me he heard your whimpers and sobs whenever he passed your door."
"He noticed it all?"
"He loves you," Thranduil said, "He loves you just as much as his offspring."
You shut your eyes even closer, turning your head more into his chest as another layer of protection against the feeling of pain that flinched over your face like a stone skipping on water, leaving ripples of agony at the memory of the many times Bard had pleaded you to talk to him. "I never wanted him to hurt at my expense."
"He is aware you thought it to be better this way," Thranduil lovingly stroked your hair – and it was love, soft and beautiful like the elf who abandoned his kingdom to race to save you – "To go against his word to you declares him a strong man and leader, Dale will flourish under his guide and your gentle hand will provide your people all they will ever need."
"So what was it?" you asked the question eating away at you, "This sickness?"
Thranduil's fingers twirled a lock of hair as he hummed lowly, "The beast in the lake is at fault," he said, "and its body infesting the in any case dirty water that you used to still your thirst."
You lifted your head at that, staring up at Thranduil whose gaze was already on you. "The dragon?" you repeated perplexed, "I got sick because of that damned dragon?"
Thranduil nodded, "I sent out the order to have its carcass removed this instant, so no one else has to suffer this fate."
You drew your eyebrows together, the hard crease between them immediately found by Thranduil for him to smooth the frown away with his thumb and a soft click of his tongue.
"So I was the only one?" The conclusion was confirmed by another nod that sent you down another spiral of confusing thoughts and loose threats of a riddle that made no sense to you.
"A mystery," Thranduil said as if he could read your thoughts, "There is no explanation as to why you solely were affected and quite intense at that. I was glad to have brought Asëa aranion with me – although you required more than a handful until your heart finally calmed."
In a moment of contemplating silence, you barely managed to stifle a yawn.
Now that your body seemed to be fine again, all your muscles yearned for the sleep that had evaded you for the longest time.
Thranduil's pleasantly warm body around you lulled you into a state of calmness, his body heat and the memories of his touch you replaced with the feeling of his strong chest in your back, and his hands threading hair through his fingers.
He was curled up in your bed, in your home, not some tent under the stars though you could see them if you looked up and through the window.
As you did so, your eyes didn't travel further than Thranduil and the watchful look on his face.
"You're as beautiful as the day you left," you remarked in a whisper like a slip of your tongue but you meant every word.
While your body ached and wore new scars his hands and mouth hadn't explored yet, he could've been away for a day or less.
You lifted a hand to stroke over his left cheek, over the faint scarred muscles that you knew by whispers hid what he deemed hideous.
Thranduil caught your hand before it reached his cheekbones and his lips pressed a light kiss against the calluses, the signs of hours of work.
"Rest, meleth nîn, you need it."
There was no denying that the elvish words had meant something important, that was clear by the way his tongue had wrapped around the words and breathed them out like a kiss but his lowered lashes and downturned lips hindered you from asking what he had said.
This was not the time to question what was probably just for him.
Later, when you were not falling into the depths of sleep cuddled against Thranduil's chest, when you would step outside your house with his looming presence in your back ready to help you with every foot you set on the grounds, there would be stories awaiting you.
Stories of the Elvenking storming into the city on horseback and all alone, the wind seemingly carrying him faster than possible and the fury and worry on his face lowered all citizens to the grounds as he yelled for their King.
They would speak about the way he nearly broke down Bard's door and how he carried your unconscious body in his arms to your house, demanding for the crowd to make themselves rare before he had them all seized and locked into his halls for obstructing his path; and even though he had no authority, Bard was close on his heels and no one dared to object.
You would hear about the day he sat by your side, caring for you and barking out orders for more water, not the one from the lake but from the springs, and how Bard and his children were the only ones allowed to visit – explaining the yellow flowers that took up every single glass your house had to offer.
Thranduil would tell you the meaning of the words he had said that first night he had spent in your bed, fully awake and watching your sleeping form in his lap until the birds woke you up in the morning; and he would say these words on all the nights that followed.
With him in Dale, or you in Mirkwood – never apart from then on.
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kitchenisking · 19 hours
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Day 7
Price of Admission by whiskytangofuckfest (trumpetcrumpet) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,628, sterek)
"Hi," the alpha said now, ambling forward with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a flannel shirt over an undershirt, and Derek realized abruptly that he himself was only wearing his boxer briefs. The cuffs rattled as he jerked in an instinctive attempt to cover himself. He was used to being naked, like any born wolf, but now, with a fully-dressed stranger looking over him with interest, he felt exposed.
Intruders didn't get sent home with a cup of tea and a pat on the head. That would send a signal that the pack was weak, that it couldn't defend its borders. Even if this alpha wasn't mad at Derek personally, he still had to do something to make it clear to other wolves they couldn't just cross into his territory, and Derek was the only intruder they had captured. He would have to bear the message for the whole group. 
Derek gets caught trespassing on Stilinski pack territory. Stiles takes an interest.
Taking Care by PencilTrash - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,413, sterek)
Derek had returned from a conference where the new CEO, Mr Stiles Stilinski, took over his company in a so called meeting where all the white collared, richly clothed shareholders - assholes - voted against Derek. He hadn’t even waited for a final handshake with the new owner. He knew, he’d never be able to fake a smile when his heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. Well, they had Peter to deal with these formalities.
[aka, Derek was already having the worst day when he was hit by his heat, right in the middle of his office]
Be My Strength by Novkat21 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 8,103, sterek)
“I just read about mates. Not much, but enough. Are they really that powerful?”
Deaton hummed and walked over to peer down at the book. “They can be. But it really depends on how well they know each other and their bond. Alphas become far stronger with one and that's why many have their mates go into hiding when a threat is nearby. If they lose their mate, they could lose their minds and become feral.” Stiles swallowed nervously. “Lose as in…?”
Deaton glanced up at him with a raised brow. “They die. Or are rejected.” Stiles felt his heart drop into his stomach and all the blood drain from his face.
Waiting Games by Jerakeen  - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,315, sterek)
Being an only child and heir to the throne, Stiles had always known he may not have the luxury of marrying for love. When he’d realized he was an omega to boot, things had taken an even more uncomfortable turn for him.
Omegas are rare. An omega as the heir apparent is almost unheard of.
Which is why there is no wiggle room when it comes to the tournament.
Sweet Buns by skoosiepants - (Rating: T, Words: 17,935, sterek)
Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.
Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.
Or-
The a/b/o bakery au with feelings
According to Plans by eldee - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 72,744, sterek)
Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn't have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles' plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)
Give him back by christinchen - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 21,452, sterek)
Eli feels lost and has seemingly so where to turn. Until a stranger knocks on his car window and demands to know how he got his car!
Drive by orphan_account - (Rating: T, Words: 3,916, sterek)
"Everyone knew you didn't touch Derek Hale's family, leather jacket, and especially not his car. Not if you wanted to live, that is."
Or, the high school AU where Stiles can't decide if he wants to kiss Derek Hale or steal his Camaro. Spoiler: it might be a little bit of both.
hooked on a feeling by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 2,713, sterek)
Stiles brings Derek home for spring break. Since his dad’s not home, they head up to his room for a quickie. Cue embarrassment when the sheriff knocks on his bedroom door, asking if they're done yet because he'd like to meet Stiles's new boyfriend...
Terrible Twos by alikatastic - (Rating: G, Words: 5,607, sterek)
Derek found himself at Iowa State and loved it. Sure he didn't have his pack or friends, but he was ready for a new beginning. He was perfectly fine being alone until Stiles Stilinski fumbled his way into English 2 class. Derek wanted to get closer and talk to the gangly man, but when he saw him next, a red-headed goddess was hanging off his arm. The scent was different, and he didn't seem to recognize Derek. It seemed like a cruel joke, but something was off. Is everything as it seems, or is there something more going on?
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bettyfrommars · 3 days
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Betty, betty, betty! I’m just back from a low-key stag do for my uncle-to-be with my da (back in the motherland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 for the special occasion), bit tipsy and thinking of biker!steve. Honestly, I’ve been away from home for 7 weeks now and anytime I need a bit of maladaptive comfort before bed, those fics are where I go 🥰 Right now I’m wondering how biker!steve would react to our new/back-in-town!reader getting drunk and needing a little help home x
Mel the way I am kissing you consensually across the miles right now aalkfdajlkljklj I've been needing a biker!steve fix so bad 😭 I wrote this in a frenzy this morning, so I hope it's not garbage, and I hope you like it.
Also, this is Ring of Fire biker!Steve, an alt universe version of I'm on Fire biker Steve. A fic within a fic, if you will. These Steves are similar but not the same.
biker!Steve x fem!Reader
wc: 1k
18+, alcohol consumption, creeps, violence, yearning, mutual crush
You decided to skip on the old faithful Blue Light Tavern that night and leaned into the peer pressure of meeting up with a friend at a newer bar downtown. The drinks were fancy but weak, and the packed crowd didn't seem to mind paying twice as much for less. Heather, a part time cashier at the gas n' sip, had you doing shots with her before you ever had any food in your stomach, and that was a rookie mistake.
During a clumsy game of darts, you spotted Robin, and it made your blood race to think that Steve might not be far behind. She tipped her chin at you from across the room, and you waved the dart in your hand, losing total concentration on the game until Heather nudged you.
"You know Robin?" Heather asked, buying two more drinks from the passing waitress.
"I've seen her around," you muttered. Steve was nowhere in sight, but that didn't stop you from checking every time the door opened.
Heather's boyfriend showed up unexpectedly and so all of a sudden, there you were---a solid third wheel. While they made out at a table in the corner, you took your wobbly legs over to the only available seat at the end of the bar.
The problem with that stage of intoxication was that you felt really good, like maybe one more would make the experience even better.
Just a beer though, just one light brewski before you headed home on foot.
"Have a shot with me?" The guy next to you said, pushing his shoulder into yours.
You didn't recognize him, but his highlighted hair was a bit too perfect, his teeth way too white; he was a dead ringer for Zack Morris. You'd barely taken a sip of your beverage and already you regretted the decision to stay.
"I'm good, thanks."
He scoffed. "Not even one shot? I saw you drinking with your friend over there, I know you can handle one more."
Sober enough to catch his condescending tone, you glanced back to see that Heather and her boyfriend were no longer at the table. They'd most likely gone somewhere to fornicate, and you'd be fending for yourself for the rest of the night.
The guy bought two shots, anyway, sliding one over to you. You stared at it for a reluctant beat before moving to get off of your stool. Your footing was a bit unsteady, prompting the blonde guy to grab your arm.
"Where do you think you're going?" His booze breath was hot in your face.
"She's with me."
Making you do a double take, Steve stepped between the two of you, staring the guy down. Chewing gum so that the muscles in his jaw bulged, Steve dropped one arm behind him to support your hip and help you keep your balance.
"She doesn't look like she's with anyone," the blonde guy challenged.
Steve realized then that the idiot must've been new in town. Somehow, he'd missed the significance of what wearing a Coffin Kings kutte meant.
Steve could take him out to the alley and put a knife in his gut without a drop of moral conflict.
"Get lost," Steve cocked an eyebrow, never breaking eye contact.
The blonde guy snorted a laugh. "How about you get fucked?"
He jammed a palm into Steve's shoulder, and before another thing could be said, Steve took him by the back of the neck and smashed his face onto the edge of the bar.
You stifled a scream, but the place was so packed, and the music so loud, that no one seemed to notice or care as the blonde slumped to the floor. The people next to him simply shuffled over to take his seat, oblivious.
Steve turned to find you, both of your chests heaving as he leaned in.
"You ready to get out of here?" He whispered it softly, brushing his knuckles down your arm. His eyes were such a throbbing hazel at that moment you swore they were about to explode gold flecks all over you.
A nod was all you could offer at the time, and then his arm was around your waist, helping you out of the crowd. Your head bobbed like it was on a spring, making you realize how tipsy you actually were.
Outside, the cool air in your lungs was a relief, and it suddenly registered that Steve's motorcycle was positioned illegally up on the sidewalk.
Before you could question his parking choice, he mumbled. "I was in a hurry," before snatching the helmet off of the handlebar to pass to you.
"What are you doing here?" you turned to find that your lips were inches from his. Steve held his breath, not wanting to move, but also not ready to find out how deep the taste of you would bury him.
"You're not the only one who likes to have fun," he moved his head back to meet your searching gaze, the flicker of a grin teasing the corner of his mouth.
"No, I mean---" you looked down, swallowing hard. What were you even trying to say?
"Robin told me you were here," he admitted, bucking his chin at the building in question. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be caught dead in a tourist trap like that."
You'd figured as much, but never expected him to fess up to coming there just for you.
"But how did Robin---?" She must've called him from a pay phone or...
"You ask a lot of questions." He took over adjusting the strap under your chin, noting that you were having a hard time with it.
"Where are you taking me?" Your speech was a bit slurred, but at the time you were too buzzed to give a damn.
"What do you mean?" He wanted to take you somewhere and press his aching body against yours; to fall asleep holding your hand.
You hated the way he was making you explain yourself, as your brain scrambled for the right words. "The other day, you said you had something you wanted to show me."
"There are lots of things I want to show you," he kicked his leg over the seat to straddle the beast of a motorcycle and waited for you to follow suit. "But there's plenty of time for that. Let's get you home first."
He held onto your thigh, urging you closer until your heat was flush to his lower back.
"Hold onto me, okay?" He said, revving the engine to life. "Don't let go."
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flaringgoosebumps · 7 months
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No one's talking about Joyce swearing that Hopper is still alive, literally doing everything she can to get to him and pairing up with someone she met under weird circumstances in order to do so being a parallel to Mike in season 1 trying to find Will.
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statementlou · 10 months
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hello :) could you maybe explain a little bit how dan wootton blackmailed louis?
ugh sorry for taking a while to get to this. The problem is I feel like the only two ways to answer this are by spending a week and a half of full time labor sifting through old posts and evidence to get every detail right and lay out an airtight case, or to halfass something very serious, and so I felt a little stuck. So since I can't seem to find a good halfway point, apologies but here is the half assed version, if you want to get into it more I invite you to do your own deep dive or talk to other people, but here's how I remember things. Louis has almost never on video explicitly said things about Larry not being real and/or anything negative about fans and their theories (mostly the opposite), up until the last couple years when he obviously decided to make a major change he didn't talk about Freddie much at all let alone saying he was his kid, honestly not that much about Eleanor even; except for in two major interviews with Dan Wootton, each of which lined up with a serious traumatic Tomlinson family event that they managed to keep out of the tabloids until the very end (Jay's illness and Fizzy's struggles with substance abuse). After the fact of those events a lot of small things that didn't make sense at the time came together to look very much like Louis traded those interviews (and those answers) for having his family's private matters kept private. Story trading of this kind is a publicly known real thing that happens, and there were various clues that suggested he was being leaned on about those stories to lend legitimacy to the idea that it was something that happened in these cases. Given what we know about Dan Wootton and how he operates even before the recent flood of information and even more now, I think it's more than likely that he has been holding the threat of outing Louis (as he has done to many other public figures) over his head for over a decade, and has used his family's tragic struggles to get Louis to dance like a fucking puppet for him and I will REJOICE at his downfall when it comes whether it is now or 20 years from now... because someday it will, he has made too many enemies to stay above it forever
#I did start to try to deep dive before I realized it was too much#but I was reminded that when Louis was doing txf as a judge while fizzy was struggling#many people thought he had been pressured somehow into it; later when we knew what had been going on people were like#oh maybe he just wanted to be close to home to deal with fizzy stuff or somethng#but also: keeping fizzy stuff quiet would potentially be the info we didn't have at that time that could answer that q too of what they use#given the DW🤝simon jones🤝simon cowell cursed connections#(for the newbies: simon jones aka DWs bestie is Louis' publicist for no apparent reason even now long after he has gotten free of the rest#of the modest/syco/simon cowell shitshow)#anyway another example of story trading in our fandom is zayn's baby sister's teen pregnancy#which was known to the fandom early on but kept super quiet by respectful fans- during this time Z did some unprecedented actual interviews#for no obvious reason#and then iirc pretty much the day she turned 17 a very lowkey article reported on her marrying her bf and mentioning a pregnancy#but as if it was recent not like 7 months along#and even when she gave birth soon after it was all kind of... glossed over and around and not reported until a little later#blah blah blah#I felt like it was weird to talk about this for some reason but when I thought about it#I don't know if it matters. Like maybe talking about him not being a dad and being gay or whatever at all is bad#but assuming we're doing that anyway. why not talk about the struggles around that#and the creeps holding it over his head#dan wootton
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bisexualelphie · 4 months
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julie e os fantasmas (original julie and the phantoms) was so wild. like, what do you mean the boys were crushed to death by a truck? what do you mean julie has committed more than one crime? what do you mean the main triangle consists of a rockstar with a closet dnd player vs a my chemical romance revenge era rejected song? what do you mean the ghost love interest was a menace to society in life and public enemy number 1 in death? what do you mean he was tortured more than once? what do you mean there was a dude trying to enslave ghosts and this plotline only lasted two episodes????
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hawkinsunderground · 1 month
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just got done binging young royals and I get what the hype is about now. Atp I just have such low expectations for any lgbt media bc it's always a sad ending, or doesn't feel authentic, or the acting is off, etc,. But the acting was great, all the characters felt real and 3 dimensional, and the intimacy between wille and simon???? perfection omg and they actually got their happy ending 😭This is one of the few shows where I wasn't sitting there after the finale thinking about all the things I wish they did differently
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etapereine · 2 months
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.
#instead of “everyone in the peloton can tell that tadejonas are pining for each other”#i propose the concept of: tadejonas who are *already together* like full-on established relationship living together part of the time etc#but somehow. no one else in the peloton has figured it out?#and like they didn't MEAN to hide it from people okay it wasn't on purpose#it just started out that way because when they realized they wanted to try it they ALSO realized that sooo much could go wrong#so they were like “we'll keep it pretty quiet until we're sure that whatever this is between us is real and will work out”#and obviously it does work out but when they try to tell people it somehow never seems to go according to plan#like somehow everyone leaves those conversations having completely missed the part where they say they're dating#and instead landed somewhere in the ballpark of “tadejonas are massively crushing on each other we have to help them”#so everyone is CONVINCED that they're pining away for each other and they keep trying to set them up in increasingly wild schemes#and tadejonas are just like. how do we explain to these people who we know and love that we are already in a committed relationship#random ass riders from like. every team tripping over themselves to help out the cause in the NAME OF LOVE and tadejonas are just like 🧍‍♂️#and like they feel kind of bad about it but also its kind of a game now to see how obvious they can be before someone catches on#random rider: jonas i promise tadej is totally into you okay he like. wouldn't shut up about you at XYZ race okay he definitely likes you#jonas (adjusting his scarf to hide the hickeys tadej left and jingling the keys of the house he shares with tadej): if you say so#what if i wrote something
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somfte · 1 year
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tagged by @neosatsuma to post the songs I currently have on repeat! I also don't play much music, at least not this past year, lol, but here's what I've been dabbling in:
Born to Shiver by @lichfucker
Eight by Sleeping at Last
Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy
For Good from the Wicked soundtrack
We Have It All by Pim Stones
tagging @granturn , @jaynovz , @etoilesombre , @johnsilvers if you feel like it
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loveletterworm · 1 year
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for loops are so cool... (very low standards of entertainment)
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viulus · 1 year
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So I guess I'm officially fixating on P5/Goro Akechi again 💀
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flintbian · 2 years
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Me: 0 Gender: 3 just this week
#once again i didnt think i cared until i showed my few work outfits and APPARENTLY I AINT FEMININE ENOUGH AND I WANT TO SCREAM#literally i was excited and feeling very good about it until someone commented and i saw red#once again i had no idea i felt strongly about this at all but then again ive never had people comment negatively before#this year ive been dressing more how i want and experimenting but i was hanging around queer ppl so got positive feedback#then my mother comes in and makes me see red fists clenched stomach in knots hours later#maybe it's not even about how i present (and i dont need to open my damn buttons why do i need to be showing cleavage fuck you)#(yes im wearing more masc clothing but it's still women's fuck off)#maybe it was just the policing that did it but i feel rotten now#it took me SIX BLOODY HOURS to find even two shirts i liked and i was feeling them but no im presenting Wrong some fucking how#i guess for school i was dressed appropriately enough but i dress like my dad ive realized#and this has all been surprisingly frustrating i thought i didn't care but you start policing me and saying im not in x box and i go mad#besides that when ive been experimenting this year again it's only been queer ppl or clare and she loves the looks#and ive been getting piercings and figuring out if there may be a way after all to get tats#but you show a Model Citizen your work outfits and you're Wrong somehow as if it matters#like everything was a problem 'why are you wearing essentially men's styles why does it have a collar why is it buttoned up'#even the material was a factor like bc the shirt is more flowy that made it better as opposed to polo or cotton or whatever material#LIKE WE'RE ASSIGNING GENDER TO FABRICS NOW?!! I DIDNT EVEN LOOK AT THE BLOODY FABRIC THE HELL??#hannah loved the outfits but they understand of course#tomboy is fine apparently as long as you grow out of it but if it stays? wrong and literally fuck off why does it matter??#excuse me i dont even have any cleavage to show why are the buttons so damn important#again didnt think i had strong feelings about myself but apparently i do#how is it my father is more accepting than???#and for years i didnt get to experiment with clothing hell i was trying to find stuff i could wear with nerve pain#i dont think im trans like that's not it i just hate boxes and having to conform to some stupid standard we made up and being policed#bc im apparently not feminine enough or whatever#and what's weird is years ago i wanted to be considered pretty but that's completely gone now as ive been finding myself and style#currently rocking the androg look but some people dont fucking like that and ive been dealing with this for like only two weeks#and it's maddening already#anyways both out of wanting to and spite im going to cut even more of my hair off soon and lean harder into this#p
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diabeticgirl4 · 1 year
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*is overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I need to do, plays music to keep me moving and focused*
*gets distracted by music and immediately forgets everything I have to do*
whoops
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neo-shitty · 3 months
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spring day never latches on to a permanent face. it takes the form of the people i miss whom i have no way of reconnecting with. ever since i read that message in my inbox, it has taken the form of you, kesya.
#i read that the night before a big midterm examination and tbh i haven't had the headspace to deal with the weight of the emotions until now#tumblr deactivations always bore more weight bc it's permanent and ig thats why it hurt a lot more i'm heartbroken#i didn't realize until now how much your deactivation has wiped—every ask sent; every reblogged interacted with; your tags; your writing#i've looked up to you for a while haha long before i've bombarded your inbox with lengthy asks abt bsd; i loved your writing first#then your thoughts second and how well articulated you were and eventually your whole being; how you consumed content as a whole#whenever you loved something you loved it in full; every piece of media you enjoyed was passed on with such appreciation#it showed in the way you passionately talked abt things; bsd-86-eren-aot to name a few. i always loved talking to you.#you always reciprocated my energy#i'm sorry for never getting around to answering your last ask i've been so busy with life. and i'm also sorry for finding out too late.#i can't quite sum up all my feelings into these tags. i just miss you a lot and i don't know where these emotions should go#but i hope they find you somehow. i'm not really going anywhere so i hope you'll find me here when the time comes.#who am i going to talk to when bsd s6 (whenever that may be) comes out? 🙁🙁#your presence is dearly missed kesya#i've received asks on your deactivation and have seen posts from your mutuals#for the past year since i've stopped writing here you've been the only thing i came for#i was always so curious to hear what you thought of the recent episodes or chapters. rest assured i'll love media the way you did.#just to carry on the bits and pieces i've absorbed from you somehow haha#i hope this finds you someday and you don't owe us an explanation or anything. pop into my asks if you do or just pm me directly.#i miss you. i'm sorry. i hope you're doing well wherever you are.#lots of love from a tumblr penpal-ish ahaha#love you!!#by-moonflower#kesya#kesya please find this T_T
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jeonsweetpea · 1 month
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Will It Fit?
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Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader
genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers
rating: explicit
description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…
word count: 6.7k
warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 
a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 
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“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 
The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 
“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.
“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.
“Unlock this door.”
You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 
“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.
“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”
Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 
“Sorry…” 
God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 
Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 
You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.
It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.
If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!
You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 
He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”
Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!
“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”
You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 
This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!
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The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.
“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 
You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”
“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”
“... Oh. Cool.”
He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 
“Hey Jungkook.”
“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.
“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”
As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 
“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”
You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”
“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”
Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!
There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 
He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”
You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”
Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”
“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 
It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.
“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”
“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”
“No, wait. I’m sorry.”
You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 
You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.
“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”
He’s so cute when nervous.
“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”
“O-Okay.”
Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
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You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.
“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 
“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 
“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”
As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”
You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 
You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”
The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 
“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”
Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.
Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!
“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”
Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 
Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 
God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.
“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”
You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”
You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”
“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”
“The… thing in your hand—”
“Dildo?”
You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”
“Before you use it?”
“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”
You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”
You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”
“I do not!”
“Then give it back!”
“This thing is huge though. It fits?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 
“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”
“Jungkook!”
“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”
Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.
You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.
“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”
“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 
“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”
“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”
He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”
That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”
“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”
“No.”
“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”
You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”
He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 
“Yeah…”
It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.
“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”
Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  
“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”
“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 
“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 
“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,
“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”
Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”
Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”
He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 
“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 
“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”
You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 
A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”
Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”
“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”
“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.
“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”
Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 
“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”
He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 
“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.
You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.
“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 
“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 
Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.
“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.
He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”
You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”
He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”
Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.
“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”
He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 
“What?” you asked, amused.
“N-Nothing.”
When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.
Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 
“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 
As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 
“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 
“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”
“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 
“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”
You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 
“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”
He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 
“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 
“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”
You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 
“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”
He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can take it. I know it.”
He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”
He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 
He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 
“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 
You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 
“J-Jungkook, I think—“
You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 
Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 
“Did you cum?”
You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”
“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”
Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 
Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 
“Let me take care of you now.”
“But I want to fuck you so bad.”
“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”
His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 
Will it fit…? God, I hope so.
“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???
“I can. I will.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t—“
“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”
He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 
Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 
“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”
You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 
“You’re too good to me…” 
You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”
“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”
You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 
“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”
“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 
“Can you handle it?”
You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”
His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 
“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 
A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.
He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 
You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.
“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 
“Yes, please fuck me.”
“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”
You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 
There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 
“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 
“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”
“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”
He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.
“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”
Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”
He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”
You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”
He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 
“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”
He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”
You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”
Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.
Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.
He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 
“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”
You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.
“I will.”
With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 
“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 
“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.
“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”
Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 
It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 
He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 
“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”
You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 
“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”
His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 
Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 
He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 
“Jungkook?” 
“Yeah?”
“Get off. We gotta pee.”
He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”
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Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!
With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 
“Questions, comments, concerns?”
Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”
“I’m sorry.
“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”
He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”
“W-Well… I mean—“
Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”
“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”
You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”
He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”
Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”
You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 
“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”
“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”
“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”
You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”
“Because you were masturbating to me?” 
He had such a proud smile on his face. 
“Whatever! Panty thief!”
“You left them there.”
“You should’ve told me!”
“I did!”
“After you had your fun! You are so—”
He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 
“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”
“As long as you warm me up.”
“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”
“Because of experience or Reddit?”
There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”
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I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
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Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.
I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.
Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.
Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.
The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.
Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.
I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.
So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.
If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.
Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.
Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.
And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.
And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.
I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.
Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.
Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.
I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.
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