#{ look i know it says drabble but this can also work as a starter }

[shadowyspectre]

Something was wrong. The strange sensation of wrongness began with the location he awoke in. The area was dead. It looked like the surroundings had been scorched thoroughly, black burned into the stone and earth. His hands were covered in ash, something small and sharp against his palms. After a closer inspection, he found it to be bone. Something about that information made him feel sick. He wiped his hands against his torn bottoms.

It appeared that his hands were not the only part of him covered in ash. He did not like the sensation of it against his fur. His hands moved through it, stopping at the matting he encountered.

Slowly, he pulled his hands away, deciding to deal with that later.

His lips twitched down, getting to his feet and leaving the crater. It was quite big, and he couldn't help but hope he hadn't destroyed the entire area. It'd be quite rude of him if he liked that. So it was a good thing he didn't. The mere thought of destroying this place made something clench in his chest. How odd. What was this strange feeling? It gripped at him and made his eyes burn. He rubbed at them, frown deepening.

Despite things coming slightly muddled, he noticed an ache coming from his chest. Careful fingers pressed over it, jerking back at the ache going into a sharp stabbing pain. His fingers came away bloody.

He blinked, and then blinked again.

That was...supposed to be inside him, not outside.

Huh.

He looked down, staring at the damaged armor that was stained red. His fingers lifted again, this time pressing more carefully. They ghosted over a large wound in his chest, right over his breastbone. It seemed deep, but not...too much of a concern. He paused. Why had he thought that? Not a concern? Having a wound in his chest this deep was a concern!

His hand dropped to his side, and he lifted his head to look around. He should....leave. Perhaps go somewhere to find help—

The simian flinched as a wave of dread pulled at him. An urgency was attached to it as well. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember what was so important. He'd been in a fight, where was his opponent? Did he lose? It sure felt like he did, waking up in a cater.

Move. He needed to move. The urge stamped into his legs, making him walk away from his resting place. But the urge grew, and grew, making him full on sprint away. He didn't know why he was running, but something deep down spurred him to run faster. His fur stood on end, the crackle of something in the air.

Move! That instinct screamed. MOVE!!

His chest was on fire, and a blue glow erupted behind him, the sheer brightness of it almost blinded him even if he was not facing the source.

The urge shrieked.

RUN.

And so he did, legs pumping fast as he tore across shattered and burnt earth. But it wasn't enough. The muscles in his legs bunched, and he leapt up, leaving another crater behind from the mere force. Instead of landing on the ground, he was met with something soft. There was no time to identify what it was, only that he was so far from the ground and moving fast. There was a roar behind him, a name? Either way, it was not happy. He fled, the thing he was on taking him far, far away.

Eventually, he noticed that the area he was over currently seemed healthy. Far better than where he was before. Only...he wasn't quite sure how to dispell this thing. It was comfortable, he'd give it that. But he wanted to check things out. A spur of something—something he'd label stupidity—sent him leaping off the soft thing.

He only had a moment to think, wait should I have done that? Before he smacked right into the ground.

Well, that wasn't fun. Now he's made another crater. At least this one wasn't as big as the one he woke up in.

He groaned, pushing himself onto his hands and knees. "Oh," he moaned in pain, "oh that was so not to good idea. Why did I do that?"

His chest hurt worse. Good going...

He frowned. Good going...

What was his name?

[sleeplesssmoll]

May I request some suitcase family headcannons summer addition?

ill start

1. vertin is definitely rocking a button up pineapple shirt and those long a** dad shorts (Because she's our androgynous king 👑) with a straw hat to top it off

2 if they go to the beach instead of a lake in the suitcase there will be girls thinking vertin is a guy and trying to flirt with her

Confession: I don't like the beach so I didn't think about this at first, but now the brain is WORKING! Also, I love your ideas! You have me thinking about an entire scenario. Although, my mind focuses on Vertin the most lol so these probably won't be that interesting. This is more like a drabble than single HCs. The team heads to the beach because of a mission but they turn it into a vacation. Also, instead of a pineapple shirt, Vertin got this as a gift from the kids:

Suits and Ducks

Vertin tried to go to the beach with her suit. Desert Flannel and Blonney argued with her for a while saying how hot it'd be and so on. Vertin reminds them she crossed a desert in a suit and survived a shipwreck in her signature suit. She'll be perfectly fine going to the beach in her suit. It was the kids who actually managed to get her to change. Sotheby and the others gifted a silly shirt with little yellow ducks on it. They knew she wouldn't wear a bathing suit but they wanted her to join them! Since it was a gift from her crew, Vertin treasures it and proudly wears it in public at the beach. Outfit complete with bermuda shorts and a boater hat with a ribbon around it. Desert Flannel and Blonney tease her at first but they prefer this casual outfit instead of the stiff suit. Vertin looks like a dork but she's a cute and happy dork so they're secretly happy too. However, they're not the only ones to think that. Instead of deterring attention, Vertin catches the eye of a few beach goers since the shirt is a conversation starter. You know how it goes after that, our charismatic Timekeeper has a way of pulling people in once she starts talking to them. Also, she's pretty. Even if she's being silly, people seem to like Vertin's face. However, they give up on her once they see her crew, which happens to be full of beautiful people (Sonetto, Blonney, Desert Flannel, Druvis, Bun Bun, etc). The bar is high lol.

Eye of the Storm, Center of Attention

Sonetto was shy about wearing a bathing suit since she isn't used to showing so much skin. Desert and Blonney helped her find a modest one-piece and cover up that she felt comfortable in. She turned quite a few heads at the beach. She doesn't like being the center of attention, but she didn't mind the familiar weight of Storm gray eyes on her back while she splashed around with Regulus and the others. She made eye contact with Vertin on the shore. Vertin immediately tilted her hat over her eyes and turned her attention back to the bucket of seashells she and Eagle collected together. Later, the crew painted these shells together and decorated the gardens in the Wilderness with them.

Inner tubes and Ice Cream

Regulus is the captain of a giant floating inner tube. However, the others swarmed her “ship” and stole it. The pirate captain was thrown into the sea! When she went to complain to Vertin, she couldn't find her best friend. Her first thought was the one time Vertin mentioned she's not a great swimmer. Did the ocean claim her when she wasn't looking!? Then again, she survived being thrown into the sea while wearing a suit of all things–

Vertin spawned behind her with popsicles and ice cream. On one hand, Regulus was relieved but on the other, Vertin went to the store without her! The betrayal. They usually buy goodies together so the pirate can show her all the good snacks! Regulus forgave her when she realized Vertin bought frozen treats for all of them, including her. Vertin didn't want to interrupt her fun so she and Lilya went together instead. Lilya wanted to buy more alcohol anyway.

Regulus enjoyed her “rock n roll rocky road”, moved that Vertin remembered her favorite flavor. However their friendship nearly ended when she watched Vertin BITE into her Creamsicle (orange and cream pop). Vertin doesn’t feel pain or sensitivity so she always eats them like that…

Sonetto attempted to eat her blue-raspberry popsicle the same way after watching Vertin and immediately regretted it.

BBQ

Bunny Bunny’s BBQ smelled so good, other beach goers brought some of their ingredients over and offered to work together, kinda like a potluck where everyone brings something and the food is shared.

Night Fishing

Vertin doesn’t sleep at night because she naps during the day. She decided to try her hand at night fishing on the pier. She slipped out quietly so as not to wake her tuckered out teammates. Sonetto noticed she was gone because she hears everything that goes on in the Suitcase. She freaked out like usual until she found Vertin peacefully fishing on the pier. She sat with Vertin, using the Timekeeper's jacket as a blanket since she was still in her nightgown. Vertin tried to shoo her back inside since was clearly exhausted but she refused to budge. She ended up falling back asleep against Vertin's shoulder. However, Sonetto wondered if she dreamed the whole thing since she woke up in her bed the next morning. She didn't, Vertin carried her back the same way she does for the others. If Vertin is around, she sleeps like a log but if Vertin isn't around, she sleeps more lightly.

Vertin didn't catch much, but Satsuki prepared a Japanese style breakfast with it for her the next day. That breakfast ended up being “sampled” by so many other crew members that Vertin ended up nibbling on leftover BBQ to compensate.

She didn't let anyone touch her tea though. She'll share everything else but Satsuki's tea.

Kraken

Of course, this beach trip wasn't really a holiday. They were supposed to be investigating sightings of a sea monster. They almost forgot about it until Druvis and Lilya mentioned it in passing. Apparently the sea monster interrupted them while they were flying together on Lilya's broom over the water.

They managed to scare it off, but they need to take care of it since it's still a danger to others. The Timekeeper sets out with her crew to fight the beast.

The Kraken Calamari (Pavia's idea) they made hit different. Vertin made sure to save a portion for Madam Z and Tooth Fairy to try.

Home

When it was time to go home, Vertin decided it'd be nice to have a beach section in the Wilderness for the Summer. While she can't control the weather in her Suitcase, she can reshape the land. The others loved this idea. The Wilderness had other plans and it snowed on the first day of adding the beach. Imagine all these arcanists in summer clothes freezing outside (well, except the SPDM soldiers). They came inside and enjoyed hot chocolate instead lol.

Sunburn

They expected Vertin to get sunburn like some of the other arcanists, but she was fine. The Foundation's temperature training teaches them how to protect themselves from the elements with arcanum, which is why she crossed the desert and stuff without issue. Sonetto can do it too (she's really good at it), but she used sunscreen as a precaution.

Ms. Moissan made the children wear it too and used Sonetto as an example.

This means it was the young adults who suffered the most sunburn. Jessica was not happy about it. She didn't get sunburn, but Blonney did so she couldn't hug as much as she wanted.

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

dinner dates ! jjk x reader series pt. 2/4

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

featuring: nanami, toji, yuuta, geto | see: part 1

kento nanami:

(we’ll say you guys live together and are dating/engaged)

ok so nanami mostly just wants to spend time with you so he’d choose somewhere that’s more private

he thought a lot about where to take you because he wanted somewhere you’d like

but he’d never be caught dead asking gojo for advice so 😭 he had to come up with something on his own

i think he’d pick a nice quiant little ramen place 🥰

y’all haven’t been there before but you see it one the way to work and you’re always mentioning it

when he tells you where you’re going, you’re obviously super excited 💜

he’d dress up all nice in a white button up and blue slacks and brown dress shoes and-

i’m sorry i could go on about him forever. anyways

you’re wearing an adorable frilly yellow sundress he bought you a few weeks ago and has been silently praying that you’ll wear (nanami, you horny bastard)

NO BUT Y’ALL LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER WITH Y’ALLS COORDINATING OUTFITS I-

the ramen place is so cute 😌 the chefs and waiters are so sweet and treat you like family it’s adorable

you order miso ramen and nanami orders spicy tonkotsu ramen and it’s delicious! :)

he loves seeing his girl happy and where would you be happier than at a ramen restaurant??

he’s not the type to take pictures of his food but he absolutely sneaks in plenty of pictures of you (both with and without your knowledge😉)

he also orders edamame to share but ends up letting you eat all of it

afterwards, he drives you back to your shared apartment and the two of you shower together and then get ready for bed

once y’all are in bed you cuddle for the rest of the night, just enjoying eachother’s presence 🥺

bonus: he lets you pick the movie you fall asleep to that night; you pick notting hill *cut to nanami crying at 2 am because he stayed up to watch it*

toji fushiguro:

toji may seem like a tough guy on the outside but he’s soft for his girl 🥰

it’s your four year marriage anniversary so he wants his princess to feel special ✨

he decides to take you out to a fancy michelin star resetaurant that you’ve had your eye on for a few months

you’ve quite literally been stalking their instagram account because the food looks that good

the two of you get ready together in your shared apartment (stop because I could write a whole drabble about domestic!toji- I have to stop myself-)

anyways, you’re wearing a dark blue bodycon mini dress with gorgeous silver heels and your wedding band shimmering on your finger ✨

toji doesn’t usually dress up much, but for his girl he will, especially on an important day like today !! he’s wearing a white button up shirt (that you can see his muscles through 👀) and black slacks with a brown belt (!!!) and brown dress shoes

he wears a dark gray wool coat over his clothes because it’s very cold outside (hey, it was his idea to have a winter wedding 🤷🏼♀️)

but you know it’s gonna be super cold outside !! so you  attempt to force him to wear a scarf (mostly because it’s cold, but also- imagine that big huge scary man wearing a cute lil scarf 🥺)

after a good deal of complaining, he finally consents and puts the scarf on 🤭 it’s dark red and it compliments his hair and skin tone so well and-

anyways, he drives y’all to the restaurant for your reservation at 8:30

when you walk in, the waitress greets you and leads you to your table

a different man comes after her to pour champagne into fancy glass cups for you

the two of you converse idly, selecting several items from the menu to try: spicy edamame, pork gyoza, crab rangoon, and tempura shrimp for starters

y’all decide to share several sushi platters along with miso soup and tonkatsu that toji insisted you order because it's your favorite 💜

somehow, the two of you finish all of the food on your combined platters (toji ate some of your leftovers after you decided you were done) but not before also selecting a fair selection of lavish desserts that were served with exquisite decorations on the plates

after your meal, toji surprises you with a diamond studded necklace that matches your wedding band almost perfectly. of course you love it and tell him that he shouldn't have, but he doesn't care about money, he'll do anything to make his girl happy 🥰

on the drive back home, toji tells you how much he loved you before carrying you inside your shared apartment since you fell asleep on the ride home 💜

tucking you into bed, he plants a kiss on your forehead, brushing your hair out of your face and wishing you sweet dreams 💞

yuuta okkotsu:

when i tell you that yuuta is SO WHIPPED for his girl-

he’d quite literally give you the world if you asked 😌

anyways, he told you the two of you were going out to dinner that night and asked you where you wanted to go

you guys looked up restaurants for a while and then you found a cool anime-themed sushi restaurant

you guys decided to keep it casual tonight; you’re wearing a sweatshirt (yuuta’s sweatshirt) and a black skirt and he’s wearing blue jeans and a forest green crochet sweater that you made him last winter (that he absolutely ADORES and CHERISHES btw)

you guys really like it there !!

it’s decorated really cool with anime posters all over the walls

you order a couple platters of sushi to share (his favorite is spicy tuna don’t ask why but I know)

he asks you a bunch of random would-you-rather questions during your date because he thinks it’s so cute to see your thinking face or you all flustered 🥰

of course, he already knows what your response is gonna be because y’all know each other so well 🥺

once y’all have eaten half the restaurant and are super full, he takes you out to walk around the city

you’re in a shopping square that’s full of cute little shops

you drag yuuta into one store in particular because you saw a stunning dress hanging in the shop’s glass window that you desperatly wanted to look at

it was a gorgeous lavender color with silky ribbons for sleaves and pleated fabric that practically made you drool

until you got inside and checked the price tag to reveal that it was $80 😞

you happily continued your date anyways, strolling the rest of the stops and even picking up some yummy street food for dessert 🍡

you get home later that night, tucking into bed with yuuta to watch some tv before you fell asleep (i can 1000% see yuuta being a true crime fanatic so you watch a documentary about unsolved mysteries)

bonus: three days later, you find a certain pleated lavender dress hanging on your door with a note that reads: -from yuuta with love <3

suguru geto:

(this is gonna be set when they’re students at jujutsu tech and geto isn’t a curse user yet because i didn’t feel like writing evil geto today ✨)

so you and geto (both jujutsu sorcerers) have been dating for about a year now! 💗

you two had planned to spend some time together today and just wanted some chill one-on-one time

so when satoru invited the you guys to go out, he was pretty disappointed to find out that you already had plans (you can just hear him muttering about ‘damn lovebirds…’)

y’all decide to order take out and watch anime

you decide on watching blue lock, which is one of geto’s favorites

you just started watching the show recently but you really like it! your favorite character (so far) is isagi

your food getes there eventually; you both ordered pan fried noodles (though you ordered chicken and geto ordered and beef) and a plate of tempura shrimp to share 😈

after you finish eating, geto sits against the wall in his bead and pulls you onto his lap between his legs to stroke your hair while you watch the show

you love spending time like this with him where there’s no pressure from the world or threat of imminent death over your heads

you wished that you could create a world that was perfect just for him 💞

due to the food you just ate and your comfortable position, you fall asleep, geto adjusting your head since it started to lull to the side slightly

he absolutely cherishes you and wants his girl to be comfy and get some good sleep 🥺 he plants little chaste kisses on the top of your head every once in a while, starting to get tired himself

eventually, he turned the tv off and transferred you to a more comfortable position: laying down on your side with your back against his chest. he dozed off, wondering how on earth he had ever deserved someone like you

[katyawriteswhump]

364 days later (Steddie holiday drabble)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31 prompt, New Year's Eve/Resolutions I AM SO SAD IT IS NEARLY OVER!!!!

When Steve is hurt on New Year’s Eve, he discovers there’s only one person he can truly go home to.

WC: 918 Rating: T CW: off-screen/pre-fic violence including domestic violence. Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff. Established steddie.

Also part of my steve whump fic series (mainly steddie) on ao3

***

“I hadn’t a clue where else to go,” says Steve, an odd tremor in his voice. 

Steve hadn’t knocked, hadn’t announced his arrival. Eddie simply opened the trailer door and found him. God knows how long he’s been standing at the bottom of the steps, cradling one arm in the other. It’s dark, but it’s screamingly obvious something’s wrong. Steve’s hair is kinda ruffled for starters. 

“I mean, yeah, we have a date later,” Steve rambles, “being New Years Eve and all that crap, and… uh…”

Holy shit! Eddie jumps down to him, freaking out big-time. Blood smears one side of Steve’s face, his lip is bruised, and his harsh breaths cloud the icy air. Eddie wants to hug him tight; instead, he briefly clams up, super-terrified. He’s never seen anybody so robust appear so… brittle.

Gently, he cups the uninjured side of Steve’s face, curves an arm around him. “What the hell happened?”

“I did it, man. Finally. My dad… I, um…”

“Your dad did this?”

“He wishes,” Steve says, snarky.

Eddie seriously can’t fathom whether he’s lying: “Who else, man?”

“Got jumped leaving work, and I… I…” Steve’s wretched laugh crumbles into an even more wretched whimper. Eddie catches him, as his knees buckle.

“Okay, big guy, I gotcha.”

He bundles him inside, sits him on the couch. Steve stares spacily, hugs his arm, rocks himself. 

Momentarily, Eddie literally flaps. Then he grabs a chilled beer from the fridge, douses a clean cloth in water. He coaxes Steve into holding the can against his swollen wrist, while Eddie dabs the blood from his face.

“Gonna sting,” warns Eddie. Steve hisses. “Sorry, Stevie.”

“It’s fine. Christ, I’m okay.”

“Not buying that BS today. Not sorry.”

Eddie frowns, concentrating hard. The cut, fortunately, has clotted already. He binds Steve’s wrist with a make-shift bandage. Steve mutters about getting kicked a LOT, when he was curled on the ground, shielding his face. Eddie feels sick, soothingly shushes Steve’s gasps of pain. Possibly as much to comfort himself as Steve. “Look, we should get you to the Med—"

“No way. I’ll fix… Listen, I finally did it,” repeats Steve, as his eyes flutter closed.

“Yeah? Did what exactly, Babe?”

 “Carried out my New Year’s resolution.”

***

Steve barely recalls how he got here.

He’d driven around aimlessly. His wrist hurt so bad that he goddamn cried, too far gone to give a shit. He couldn’t think; he was drowning, sucked deep into thick, suffocating waters. Some crazy inner compass drew him to the one place he could pull for the surface.

He found himself outside Eddie’s trailer. Standing there stupidly, hurting and shivering. Not even yelling to be let in. Now, he’s inside and getting warm with Eddie, who asks again what happened.

Crap, does Steve even know?

He honestly couldn’t ID his attackers. Sorta knew why he was attacked, being guilty of so much these days—hanging with geeks, being a king that lost his crown, not to mention his boyfriend being Eddie ‘spawn-of-satan’ Munson.

Then his Dad.

The look he’d given Steve, when Steve arrived home bruised and bloodied. 

“He didn’t need to say it,” says Steve, head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “It was written all over his smug-ass face. You deserve this.”

He’d yelled his butt off about Steve making trouble. Shoved Steve around a bit, knowing he was in no shape to fight back.

“I told him to stick it. Left with basically nothing. Okay, the car, though that technically belongs to him, and… Shit, where am I gonna go?”

His tardy reality check hits like a baseball bat to the gut. Huddled against Eddie, he’s shaking, breaths hitching, hating himself for it. Eddie wraps his other arm across Steve and holds him. 

Simply holds him.

And yeah, he calms a little.

“Seriously, don’t sweat it,” says Eddie. “You can stay here till you’ve figured stuff out. Forever, if you need.”

Steve glances up, swipes angrily across his damp cheekbone. “Uh, earth to Eddie? Wayne?”

“He’ll cuss under his breath. And love the heck out of you. Already does. What’s one more overgrown brat?”

“C’mon, he’ll—"

“Look, I’m genuinely blown away. It’s New Year’s Eve and you’ve already nailed your resolution.”

Steve buries his face again, and… Woah! He’s laughing. Eddie’s kickass painkillers are working, or… Screw it, life never sucks so bad when he’s with Eddie. 

“Leaving home was last year’s resolution,” he mumbles toward Eddie’s armpit.

“Oh.” Eddie plants a soft kiss on Steve’s hair. 

“Yeeeeah. I’m only, like, 364 days late.”

***

Eddie’s still freaking that he should get Steve better help. However, Steve is a dead weight against him, knee curled in Eddie’s lap, and refuses to budge from the circle of Eddie’s arms.

New Year ticks by, lost in a gentle, lingering kiss. Eddie ghosts his thumb, featherlight, down the uninjured side of Steve’s face. Steve scrunches his good hand tightly in Eddie’s hair, deepening the kiss more passionately than—given Steve’s bruises—Eddie dares.

“Happy New Year, Babe,” whispers Eddie, when they break apart. A sneaky smile plays on Steve’s lips. “What?”

“I hit a winning streak,” says Steve, “I’ve smashed this year’s resolution already.”

“Huh?”

“Do I really have to spell it out, dipshit?”

Fixing deep in Steve’s eyes, Eddie’s grin spreads slowly. Dammit, this was going down as the worst and best New Year ever, and sure as heck the most shamefully sappy:

Oh, I get it. Falling in love.

“Back at ya,” he says, and tumbles forward into another kiss.

[rattkachuk]

for the hurt/comfort starters I've gotta ask for mattdrai with "Please tell me I don't look as bad as I feel" please! <3

"Please tell me I don't look as bad as I feel."

Matthew frowns at Leon’s image on his phone screen. The dejected tone of his voice is more than enough to tell Matthew just how bad he’s feeling, but there’s also a slope to his shoulders and the stress in his eyes that he can’t miss after loving him as long as Matthew has. He knows how much responsibility Leon carries with him, and is very familiar with the helpless feeling of not being able to show up for your team.

“You don’t look great,” Matthew says truthfully.

Leon scoffs and rubs a hand over his face, “Oh, thank you.”

The image goes blurry for a moment while his phone re-establishes it’s connection with the shitty Boston hotel internet. He knows there’s not much he can really say to quell Leon’s worries, and it’s late and they both have a game tomorrow. Important games. He doesn’t know the full extent of what’s up with Leon, and doesn’t dig (he’ll find out later and chastise him for it then, just as Leon did to him last year), but he knows that it’s worrisome enough to make Leon call him in the midst of their playoff run.

“Hey,” Matthew says gently, “I know it sucks and I know that I really can’t ask anything of you that I wouldn’t do myself…”

“But?” Leon bites.

“If it’s really bad, please don’t push yourself,” Matthew pleads, quiet but sure. He can’t say much more than that. Can’t tell Leon that it’s not worth it. Can’t sooth him and say that everything would work out for the Oilers without him, for fear of the falsity of his words being too glaring.

Leon sighs, but is silent beyond that. Matthew gives him the space, doesn’t push, listens only to the faint sounds in the background of Leon’s room, and watches the soft flickering light of his TV. Matthew wonders absently what’s on.

There’s a set to Leon’s jaw, and he’s pointedly not looking at Matthew, but even through the pixelated video call he can see the shake to his body as he breathes in and out, “Matthew, you know-there’s just so much riding on this, right? What am I going to do if this season ends in another failure? I’m running out of fucking time, here.”

A pang of unfounded guilt hits Matthew, knows that Leon is a few years ahead of him and in reality it’s not that much, but in hockey it’s everything. Maybe he’s not as well acquainted with the hourglass of time taunting him just yet, doesn’t have to worry about the sand falling through the middle, faster every time he gets another blow to his body. Doesn’t know the pain of making it within reach of the thing he’s always striving for, only to have it ripped away in a blur before you can even get your legs underneath you. Every. Time. Matthew can see it ruthlessly eating away at Leon year after year, chips away at him and seeps into the corners of his being.

Matthew had been closer than Leon ever had, and he felt confident his team could do it again, could see his chances in the coming years only increasing. Coming from him, it felt wrong to placate Leon and tell him that next year would be better, when he’d already had so many years of loss under his belt.

“Then you’ll figure it out. We'll figure it out, alright?” Matthew swears, wanting Leon to know he never had to face this giant thing all by himself, that he didn’t have to cross any bridge without Matthew’s hand to hold, “I’m always with you, Leon.”

There’s a helpless gasp of air from Leon’s mouth, maybe the tail end of a sob stuck in his lungs, “Yah, yah. I know. Thank you.”

Matthew offers a small albeit sad smile, and they don’t say much else. Matthew doesn’t hang up, though, can't bring himself to sever the one line of connection they have in the moment. Leon doesn’t look in a rush to go, he’s three hours behind and has time yet. Matthew sleeps eventually and lets the video call go, so Leon doesn't have to be alone.

ao3 drabbles <3

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Bad Day - A "Kissing You" Drabble

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Rating: No warnings that I know of, just a bunch of fluff with the briefest of mentions about other enjoyable activities with our boy

Word Count: 800

Prompt #5 : Intertwining fingers

a/n: Okay, so I've been working on something for a while, and this is not that something, but rather a small piece of a different something that I'm really trying to convince myself to share. But for now, here's a small piece of that thing that I want to share for @browneyes-issac. I'm so sorry you had a horrible day at work and my brain wouldn't stop until I wrote this in hopes that it might help, even just a little. This is also my first ever released Frankie fic, and also my first time writing f!reader, and also the first thing I've written and shared on Tumblr in literal YEARS, so go easy on me. And if you like it, tell me to post the other ones that may or may not be sitting in my folders.

Masterlist | Next Drabble

Your day has been nothing short of miserable. 

As if a broken water heater hadn’t been enough, the standstill traffic on your way to work and the blown tire just two blocks from the restaurant gave you pause. And then you’d been foolish enough to believe that maybe, at least, work would be tolerable for once. 

But it hadn’t been, and now you're alone in an empty restaurant with a room full of tables still yet to be cleaned. Your coworkers had been no help, piling onto your load with table after table, nevermind your lack of a break. And then they’d left, all citing important events that they needed to attend while you stood, glancing at your watch as it told you your shift should be ending in ten minutes. Keyword, should.

A flash of headlights from outside brightens the empty room, and with a sigh, you head toward the front door, unlocking the deadbolt as Frankie appears on the other side. He’d agreed to pick you up when you’d called him about your blown tire, and he was, of course, on time. 

You're willing yourself not to lose it entirely when you breathe in his familiar scent, but it only takes a second for his wide smile to fade into genuine concern. “What’s wrong?” 

Saying nothing, you turn and walk back into the dining room, gesturing to the tables still stacked high with dishes. “There’s more in the kitchen,” you sigh, eyes falling to the ground in front of you, trying to hide your frustrated tears. 

Slowly, he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together and raises them to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “I’ll help.”

A laugh escapes you as you finally glance up at him, “You can’t.” 

Frankie’s eyebrows raise quickly, “and why not?” 

“For starters, you don’t work here. And you wouldn’t get paid. And it’s my job. You probably shouldn’t even be in here like this and you really can’t go in the kitchen and…” 

His grip on your hand tightens, causing you to stop your rambling. Without missing a beat, he counters your concerns with a plan. “How about you wash and I collect the dishes and bring them back to you? Then I can wipe down all the tables and rearrange everything out here while you finish up.” 

“Let me help you, Querida,” he continues when he notices you biting your lip, eyes flickering over the piles of work, and you feel him kiss your hand once more. You have to admit that his plan makes a lot of sense, and it would probably allow the two of you to be out of here long before you would if you did everything on your own. 

“Okay,” you agree after a long breath.

Frankie looks pleased, almost excited, and kisses your forehead quickly before rushing off in the direction of the nearest table. He picks up a stack of dishes and follows as you lead him toward the kitchen. Once you’ve shown him where to set things, you head toward the sink to begin the cleaning process. 

He appears every minute or so as he clears the dining room, stopping in between each trip to kiss you. Sometimes on your forehead, sometimes your shoulder or your nose. Whatever part of you he can reasonably reach, and with each passing moment you feel the weight of the day become a little lighter. A smile here and there, a laugh when he kisses you in the crook of your neck before rushing back into the dining room once more.

Methodically, you scrub away at the dirty plates, working as quickly as you can. Frankie is gone for a while, probably cleaning the tables, and soon the pile dwindles down to nothing.

Strong arms wind around your waist as you rinse off the plate in your hands, a warm chest at your back, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Almost done?” 

You nod, pressing into him as you place the last dish on the rack. “Done.” You turn in his arms, and he doesn’t protest when your wet hands wind around his neck to bring him down for a proper kiss. It’s soft and warm, and you hum when you pull away to find Frankie smiling at you. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

“Anytime,” he returns, hugging you a bit tighter. “Now, are you ready to go home? Because I think I have the perfect remedy for your bad day.” 

His contagious smile finally transfers to your own face, “Is that so?”

Frankie nods eagerly, and you know the spark in his eyes well, so without another word you lace your fingers through his and tug him in the direction of the door. 

And later, when you’re laying in his arms, feeling sated and so very loved, your bad day is nothing more than a forgotten memory. 

Masterlist | Next Drabble

[thisapplepielife]

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I was tagged by both @wynnyfryd and @wormdebut, thank you both! (I only used AO3 fics. That's easier for me to sort through than Tumblr.)

01) Steve is comfortable on his back, laying against the trunk of his car, looking up at the night sky, when he sees a shooting star rush across the vastness of space. - {All Across the Universe}

02) Steve slumps behind his computer monitor at his desk, trying to make himself as small as possible. - {Secret Santa}

03) Eddie rests his forearm over his eyes, attempting to block out the way too bright sun and wipe the sweat away from his forehead at the same time. - {Permanent 99}

04) "No, no, no," Steve says, waving his hand in front of him. - {Steddie Holiday Drabbles}

05) Steve shoves the key into the lock of the Wienerlicious front door, and jiggles it just so, trying to get the damned thing to open. - {King Steve}

06) Steve sits alone at a small table near the fountain in the center of the mall a few miles from his house. - {If You Only Believe}

07) "This is ridiculous!" Eddie screams as loud as he can, from the bottom of the ladder. - {Let the Boy Be Merry}

08) Eddie steps out of the car, right between the Methodist church and the Hawkins High School building. - {Yours For the Weekend}

09) Gareth runs up and shoves Goodie into Jeff, and keeps running. - {Wake Up Time}

10) Diana hates doing the dishes. - {Crawling Back to You}

First, I like long sentences. I almost said run-on, but I usually love a good comma. Or three. I know this about myself. Long sentences, but short paragraphs. ("I want a fic with a short paragraph, and a loooonnnng, long sentence." - CAKE, probably.)

And, lol, I knew I liked to set up my POV right away, so the reader knows whose head they're in, because I appreciate that as a reader, but damn. A name as the first word 8/10 times is hilarious, even to me. I'll try not to be self-conscious about it from now on.

I think it's pretty appropriate that 4 of them start with Steve (Steve is my fav, and my draw into this show), 2 are Eddie, and one each for Gareth & Di. That seems to be a pretty accurate representation of my Stranger Things fic writing splits, haha.

(And for fun, yes, Take the Money and Run and Tuesday's Gone With the Wind both start with names, too: Steve and Eddie, respectively. And I just looked at my two other "medium-ish" unposted fics I'm working on, and yep: Steve and Eddie starters. Again. 🤷)

I also checked, and while I still like to use a name, I see that I'm far more open to starting a drabble with something other than a name than I am a longer piece.

Don't bore us, get to the chorus when I'm strictly limited on words, I guess. 🤣

Tagging anyone else that hasn't done it and wants to do it! ❤️

[imaginarianisms]

Before going into further details, I want to mention that in order to allow the actions below, you just have to leave a like on this post and to please not reblog! By liking this post, I’m going to assume that you have read my rules and got a basic understanding of my portrayal of the muses that are available by reading through my blog pages. I also take it that you are interested in interacting with my muse(s) to develop possible relationships ( positive or negative, platonic or romantic or otherwise ) with them. It’s required that we’ve have to have interacted in order for you to like this post - this is for Ask/RP blogs only, personals, do not like this post.

Go on, punch that ❤︎ button, I won’t bite, I promise! By liking this little beauty, that means you all are okay and are giving me full permission with the following from yours truly:

🌹 Write completely random starters and mention you in them.

🌹  Write headcanons about our characters, depending of course on the bond between them and tagging the other mun.

🌹 Tag other muns with their urls in pictures/videos/audios etc. that somehow represent our friendship or the unique bond between the muses.

🌹 Spam your askbox with any of my muses whenever, with any verse I have in mind. However, you can also suggest any verse or plot idea as well.

🌹 Talk to the other mun OOC or IC.

🌹 Contact the other mun via IM or discord whenever something new related to their character crosses the mun’s mind.

🌹 Send memes, inbox starters, turn asks into threads, request to plot with you.

🌹 Tag and/or @ you in random starters.

🌹 Tag and/or @ you in graphics or text posts which remind me of your muse.

🌹 Talk and/or to you via tags, instant messages or asks, if I don’t have your Discord.

🌹 Answer and/or reply to any of yours asks, text post or open starter anytime.

🌹 Invade your inbox at ungodly hours whether it’s IC or OOC, with an idea.

🌹 Contact you to plot or to set pre-established relationships. My muses need friends, enemies, old mentors, old friends/fling/colleagues, people they work with now, people they stumbles upon… there are many possibilities, no matter the verse! I’ll talk to you but please talk to me, too. I don’t bite!

🌹 Writing spontaneous headcanons, drabbles or anything else about our muses’ bond which could pop up in my head.

🌹 Making you gifts (Pinterest boards, Spotify playlists, drabbles, promo banners etc.) and tagging you in them.

🌹 Send you some love and cookies and wrap you in a blanket!

🌹 Be friends that have fun roleplaying and being dorks together.

🌹 Liking your starter calls.

🌹 Chill about the alien invasions and fangirl and finish each other’s conspiracy theories.

🌹 Showering you with love, chocolate, hugs and cookies!

🌹 Plotting and crying screaming and suffering with me.

Finally, by you liking this, I, in return, give full permission for you do all of these things but also be aware that I know your muse(s) and have read your own rules. Don’t be shy to come by and like this post, throw a meme at me or come and prod my IM space at any time.

Also, by liking this post you are saying that you have;

🌹 Read my rules.

🌹 Skimmed through the verses & about pages.

By liking this post, I am okay with the following:

🌹 IC asks and inbox invasions (also chill about alien invasions and the zombie apocalypse too and a bunch more tbh.)

🌹 Liking my starter calls.

🌹 Random Starters.

🌹 Plotting and suffering.

🌹 Random little gifts be it drabbles, drawings, aesthetics or anything else. ( I will love you forever and shower you with chocolate, affection and love tbh.)

🌹 Tagging me in stuff that made you think about our muses.

🌹 A simple chat over IM or Discord if we're close.

Any of these I am just thrilled to do because that means that you enjoy rping with me as much as I do with all of you wonderful and talented people! Thank you all for reading this, I’m looking forward to interacting with the wonderful writers out there and their magnificent muses! Stay safe, I love you all!  — Sincerely yours, with all of my love, Angie ♥

[boombambaby]

This is actually a question for Mun, if you don't mind!

I'm putting together a roleplay blog myself, and I was wondering if you had any advice? I've never put myself out there in roleplay beyond accumulating small rp communities/friends on Discord, and I'm kinda intimidated by being Perceived on a platform as big as tumblr /lh

Advice on making the blog appealing to other roleplayers and any general rp advice you'd be willing to share would be very appreciated <3

|| Hi there! I don't mind a single bit! Sorry for the delay, I wanted to make sure I made sense and gave you good information :)

First off, it's so awesome that you're looking to start a roleplay blog! I am huge on encouraging people to write and join the hobby, and it's always nice to see new writers getting started and sharing ideas!

As silly as it sounds, my biggest piece of advice is to NOT be intimidated. Don't be afraid to put yourself out there, follow characters in your fandom, share things, post your HC/drabbles/favorite ships/ideas/storyline ideas etc and reach out to other writers or groups for interactions! The more friendly you are, and the more you put your writing out there, the more traction you'll receive as opposed to just lurking around and liking stuff here or there. : ) I'm still new to roleplaying on Tumblr, but the first thing I did when I decided to make a blog here was look at other writers to get a general idea for how my blog should be set up. It's helpful for a writer to see right off the bat who your character is/their fandom/the writers writing style, and rules. Some writers are very cautious about writing with minors and won't interact if you don't have your 'age bracket' right on the front page where they can see it. Your blog doesn't have to be super big or flashy, but I always like seeing a writer with open starters posted, a simple list of rules and hashtag categories so I can easily find something if I look on their page. But the main thing I look for are recent posts with active writing! Someone can have the coolest blog in the world, but if they don't write it's kind of a let down! Even if it's timeline banter-- which I absolutely adore-- it shows you're an active writer, and that's what we're looking for. : ) Other general roleplay advice is this; Don't be afraid to check out other platforms. Tumblr is big, yes but there are other platforms/sites/forums you can write on! If you're on Discord and not opposing to branching out, you can search for your fandom (Disney roleplay for example) on Disboard and it will show you different roleplay groups listed there. When I first started with Kuzco and realized how dead the fandom was, I made an account everywhere. Here, Twitter, Facebook, Roleplayer.me, Aniroleplay etc. And I just started posting. IC statuses, drabbles, headcanons-- whatever came to mind, and started following as MANY people in related fandoms as I could find. You slowly build your friends up as you go, and can branch out and sometimes form connections between characters you never thought would cross paths, which is a lot of fun. I'd also say to keep in mind that it is ALL about the QUALITY not the QUANTITY. If you can write 1500k+ words each reply? That's awesome! But if you can write a beautifully descriptive reply in 500 words, that's just as amazing! Don't pressure yourself to do more than you can just to make someone else happy! Work at your own pace. Last but not least; HAVE FUN WITH IT! There's always something new to learn, but don't be afraid to jump right in and get your feet wet. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help you as well, I'd be more than happy to in whatever way I can!

[librathefangirl]

Love your fics btw 🥺❤️

But 🦈 and 🍬 for the ask game ❤️

Thank you!! 🥺❤️ And thank you for the ask too :)

(Also can I say that I'm impressed that I've gotten 7 emojis for this ask game now, but none have been duplicates)

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

Ooh. For nnt I gotta go with daytime Escanor and Diane. I just... don't really know how to handle those two.

I much more prefer writing wimpy night Escanor than arrogant day Escanor. Although both will show up in an upcoming fic of mine (day 21 of my Febuwhump series, whenever I get to that one). So, we'll see how that works out.

As for Diane, I don't know, I just struggle a lot with her character. Which is probably why I have never actually written from her perspective yet.

🍬 Do you write for multiple fandoms? If yes, what is your favorite fic of yours for each fandom?

I mean, technically yes? If we're looking at both my early fanfic days over on FF.net and my current ones on ao3, I've got 60 fics across 12 fandoms. Although, this year I've only posted fics for nnt. Which I don't mind actually, I haven't been this inspired to write since I started writing fanfic (for Lab Rats) back in 2016.

Only 5 of my written fandoms have more than 1 fic posted, so let's look at them, shall we? Going oldest to newest:

Lab Rats - Betrayal

I guess it would be cheating saying my entire A for Always fic, since it's my advent calendar fic and is thereby a collections of 24 fics? (Actually that advent calendar was fun to write, maybe I should do something like that for nnt this year?). So let's go with chapter 2: Betrayal. This one's actually a bit different from my usual stories. It's more of an introspection and deals with Chase's (canon) experiences of betrayal and the emotional impact these had (that was't explored in canon). Over 6 years later I'm still proud of this one.

Lab Rats: Elite Force - Her Baby Brother

This one's a set of three drabbles, showcasing Bree's relationship with her little brother during different stages of their lives. I like this one because writing drabbles is not always that easy, plus at the same time I managed to make them feel like three parts of the same story with a similar structure. (Not a story for people who don't like main character deaths.)

Glee - The Boy with the Christmas Sweaters

Okay, looking back at my Glee fics was actually kinda hard, because the ship I loved back then I can't stand anymore. But I do like this fic! It's a Samcedes fic based on a Christmas prompt. Just some fluff and humor (a rarity for me).

Stranger Things - Trust and Needles

I have a total of 3 ST fics. All of which less than 700 words. All of which Stoncy. This one's just fluffy ot3 shenanigans combined with Steve whump. It might leave a smile on your face (unless you don't like needles or stitching, then you won't like this fic).

The Seven Deadly Sins / Nanatsu no Taizai - Who'll Hug the Prince of Hell?

This one wasn't easy to choose. They're all so new and all so loved. I think I'll have to go with this one though. For starters, it's my first nnt fic, the start of a new era and all that. It also includes a lot of things I love to write about; Meliodas angst, the relationships between the Sins and Meliodas, Meliodas getting the love he deserves, Merlin knowing his whole story, Meliodas and Ban being Meliodas and Ban, King dealing with his feelings and actions towards Meliodas after the reveal. Also, who doesn't love a story where Meliodas gets hugged repeatedly? (I should make Mel get hugged more often)

Anyway. Here's the list for the ask game, if anyone else wanna send me something :)

[rosetintedgunman]

" i know i can be an asshole, but... you always see the good in me. "

— u can make a new thread if you’re ok with abysmally late replies but i would also treasure a drabble 💕

@crushng (Starter prompt from here)

(Truthfully, with everything going on atm, a drabble probably works better for you)

-

The Roller was buzzing with activity. Groups of people could be found in each of the areas, and Gin was thriving with the attention from various guests.

However, Wilford was nowhere to be seen, and that ultimately paid a price when Gin got a little too snappy at a waitress in the diner who didn't make his preferred milkshake just right. Panic ensued to try and calm the regular down, but no one could do it.

That is, until a glass slammed down on the table in front of Gin.

An uncharacteristically irate Wilford was glaring down at him from behind the diner's counter. He was dressed in a neatly pressed shirt, with a fancy pastel pink bow and a pastel rainbow suspenders. While similar, it was a far cry from the more casual look Wilford wore in the Roller. Even his curls were tamer than usual.

"I hadta cut an interview short when I got a call that someone was havin' a temper tantrum."

Ah. That explained it. Still steaming, Gin opted to play it wise and bite the tip of the straw instead of bringing forth the wrath of Wilford. After all, the man was a paradox in and of himself. There was a lot that was a mystery. If Wilford could effortlessly create a place like the Roller, could form and destroy wormholes at will, without even considering a "pocket dimension" that he appeared to hide things in, this was a match that a black hole was not guaranteed to win.

(Besides, then no one would make the special milkshakes anymore if he was banned from the Roller when Wilford revived himself. :( )

One particularly loud slurp from Gin, followed by a low warning of "Manners" had the regular jolt back into the moment. At some point, Wilford had moved to take the stool beside him. Or maybe a blink had transported him there. Regardless of his method of sitting, Wilford was calmer in himself. The bowtie had been undone and loosely tucked into his shirt pocket, and he was in the middle of ruffling his hair back into place when he noticed glowing eyes on him. The reporter sighed.

"Look. Ya need ta relax a little more." He was speaking slowly, something Gin noticed when Wilford was trying to choose his words carefully. "Everythin' doesn't hafta go th' exact way ya want it to. If a drink isn't made right, who cares? Sometimes ya discover new things from a mix-up in th' menu. But ya need ta apologise ta that young lady." Gin tried to protest, but his drink was gone. Literally.

"Now."

-

One begrudging apology to a (rightfully) terrified waitress later, Gin slumped back onto the bar stool. In a blink, the drink reappeared and he was too sullen to care how or why he was being treated like a child.

Curiously, this time around Wilford kept quiet. It allowed Gin to reflect. This was the first time he had properly gotten in trouble in the Roller. And even then, it was just a light scolding and a punishment of giving an apology. Gin had caused such a ruckus that Wilford had to cut a shift in the studio short to deal with it, and he didn't leave after that.

By the time Gin was down to the final quarter of the milkshake, he sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I can be an asshole but... you always see the good in me."

There was a clink of glass being placed on the counter. Wilford, who had somehow gotten a glass of fizzy orange in the middle of all of this, gave Gin a smile that one could swear had a hint of sadness to it.

"That's 'cause ya feel like ya don't see it in yerself. Ya feel ya don't deserve bein' treated nicely when yer mean ta others or push 'em away fer whatever reason ya try ta justify. Not that I'm tryin' ta be some sorta psycho-doctor-whatchamacallit or anythin'. I don't know shit 'bout that,' Wilford laughed, "But it's somethin' I recognise. 'Spose ya could say I've seen it a lot over th' years."

If there was a moment for Gin to ask a question to finally try and learn more about Wilford himself beyond the persona he presented, it was gone before Gin could register the implication of the words.

"Ya deserve ta have friends, y'know. Not everyone hasta have some sorta 'purpose' or some sorta 'end goal'. Be someone's friend fer th' simple reason of 'just because'. There's nice folks out there. Even if they don't know th' story, they're still pleasant company ta have. An' when ya spend time with people like that, well... Ya start realisin' there's a lot more good in there than ya noticed."

[withahappyrefrain]

It's mansplain, manipulate Monday, and I think this deserves a prequel to how he got her manager's number and how they started dating because just from their chemistry, you can tell she played hard to get.

But this is only if you want to, please don't feel pressured. Your writing is incredible and you are extremely talented.

Hell yeah I want to make a backstory for a smutty drabble. 16+! Mob!Peter and very suggestive.

You Ain't Nothing (but a dog)

Summary: You never meant to get into modeling. You also never meant to get tangled up with Peter Parker. But sometimes life has a funny way of working out.

⍟

You never meant to get into modeling. It wasn't something you dreamed about doing. For starters, you were no Cindy Crawford.

But you were a poor college student who needed money. Joining your friend for a shoot that would cover half of your monthly rent sounded much better than waiting tables.

Apparently the 'in look' had changed. Cindy's face was out, your's was in. So you continued it because being able to pay off your student debt was a pretty sweet deal.

When it became a full time job, you're not quite sure. It was definitely after graduation and you were still unsure if you wanted to get your master's. So you figured, why not model for a few years and save up?

You didn't mind it. You had made some friends along the way, found a decent company to manage you. You were even able to go from magazine photoshoots to billboards.

Never in a million years did you expect that a billboard would be why you crossed paths with Peter Parker.

Much less be how he became your husband.

"Miles, make 'em hold still, will ya?" Peter never understood why they always tried to squirm away.

They should have paid on time if they wanted to avoid this.

Finally satisfied with his punches, he removed the now bloodied brass knuckle from his hand. He noticed some blood had gotten on the sleeve of his shirt.

That would need to be dry cleaned.

"You have until Friday to pay up. Then I won't be as nice." He motioned for Miles to follow him out of the building.

"That was you being nice?" His protege asked.

Peter chuckled, "I let the bastard live, didn't I?"

"I'll bring the car around," Miles knew better than to question Peter's methods.

Peter rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he waited, thinking of who else he needed to pay a 'visit' today.

He didn't know why he decided to look around the parking lot, but he's thankful he did.

Because there you were.

Or well, a picture of you.

You were stunning. From your bright eyes to the slope of your nose to the curve of your smile.

Fuck, he had to see you in person.

Luckily he had connections.

"Where to next boss?" Miles asked as Peter got in the car.

"I need you to help me with some research."

--------------------

You were a pretty private person. The only public social media you had was filled with pictures of sights and food and occasionally animals. Not of your face.

That was smart. You kept a low profile. Peter liked that.

Though, it was frustrating he couldn't see more pictures of you.

Luckily for Peter, your coworkers weren't as private.

"This Watson girl definitely models with her," Miles pulled up a picture showing a redhead with other girls leaning in, posing with smiles and peace signs. Peter immediately spotted you in the photo.

Fuck, you were stunning with no makeup and minimal effort. A true beauty.

Peter stared at the various photos you were tagged in before clearing his throat, "So these are great. But I'm trying to see her in person."

"So I can tell you what we're not going to do, which is slide into her DM's. I know you don't know what that means, but trust me, it is not the vibe we're going for," Miles explained, "But I do believe I've found her manager."

"And you're certain this is her manager because....."

"Her, the Watson, and Brandt girl all follow each other. They also all follow this guy, Mark, who literally says in their profile they manage for a modeling company. And when I pulled up her Venmo, Watson Venmoed her and Brandt for 'Mark's bday gift'."

"This is why I keep you around," Peter grinned, "You got his number?"

Miles pulled out a sticky note that had a ten number digit written, "So you just gonna call the dude and say you want to go out on a date with one of his clients?"

Peter scoffed, "Please. May raised me better than that. Tell Felicia I need her to pick up and deliver a few gifts."

----------------------

"Tell me again how this isn't the same thing as escorting? Because it sounds like escorting."

Your manager, Mark, sighed, "He just wants to get to know you and discuss a potential business deal over dinner."

You motioned to the huge vase of flowers that were delivered to you this afternoon, "Business deal?"

"People get flowers all the time."

You picked up the red Cartier box, opening it to reveal a diamond bracelet that you're pretty certain cost more than your college tuition.

"Business deal, huh?" You repeated.

"If you don't want it, I'll take it," your friend and coworker Gina said without looking up from the magazine she was reading.

Who the hell even was this guy? Peter Parker? What kind of name was that?

You weren't stupid. You knew damn well what a business deal over dinner entailed.

He was hoping to get into your pants by the end of the night.

"Look, you're going to a public place, Bella's, and-"

"He's taking you to Bella's? Don't you need to make reservations three months in advance?" Gina interrupted.

"You just need to have dinner with him. That's all."

"You told him I would go?!"

"I told the woman who works for him and dropped off these gifts," Mark paused, "Because she was very scary and intimidating, I did not want to upset her."

"See Y/N? He employs women, he can't be all that bad," Gina commented.

You were all for intimidating women. Just not when it landed you an unwanted date.

Which is how you found yourself outside of the city's most exclusive and expensive restaurants, about to embark on the weirdest blind date.

The date wasn't supposed to start until seven, but you arrived forty minutes early. You had to be first, you couldn't give this Peter Parker any advantage.

So when the hostess said she could bring you to "Mr. Parker's exclusive room", you just shook your head.

"Just tell him I'm at the bar."

The hostess' eyes widened, "Uh, Mr. Parker instructed us to walk you to his section when you arrived."

Instructed was a nice way of saying ordered. So the guy also loved telling people what to do. Great.

"Funny, because he never asked me if I was fine with that. If he did, he would have learned I don't go into private rooms with men I don't know," you pointed to the bar, "Again, I'll be over there."

The hostess was saying something, but you didn't care to listen.

The date hadn't even started yet and Mr. Parker could already go suck a fuck.

--------------------------

"It's the first date. Make sure you give her the chance to talk, okay?"

Peter furrowed his brow, "Why the fuck wouldn't I let her talk on the first date?"

"Some men love talking about themselves more than getting to know the other person," Felicia commented from the back of the car.

"Whenever you're not sure what to say, just ask her a question! Like what made you get into modeling?" Miles suggested.

"I already know how she got into modeling!"

"That is not public knowledge."

Felicia leaned forward, "you let her know you stalked her after she agrees to be your girlfriend. Your chances of her finding it cute are higher. Until then, play dumb."

Peter Parker was stressed. Which was weird because he never got stressed.

He had killed people before with his bare hands. Why was he now stressed about a date.

As if Miles could sense it, he began, "It's the first date. If you're nervous-"

"I am not nervous!" Peter said sharply, looking into the mirror to check his hair for the sixth time.

Miles fought the urge to roll his eyes, "Fine. It's the first date, it's okay if it's a little awkward. Just be yourself!"

"Minus the violent, illegal, organized crime boss part," Felicia commented, "You should probably save that for maybe the third date."

"You should also probably get out of the car and go into the restaurant," Miles paused, "Considering your date starts in ten minutes."

"I know when my date starts!" Peter hissed before looking out the window, "Did you see her walk in?"

"For the sixth time, no." Felicia commented, rolling her eyes.

"Would arriving ten minutes early make me look too eager?" Peter asked his right hand man and woman, who were fighting the urge to smack their boss upside the head.

"She's a potential love interest, not a potential enemy, Peter."

"True," He gripped the door handle, as if he was about to actually get out.

He turned to them, "It's just I had this idea that I walk into the room and she's sitting down at the table, y'know? And then I say-"

"Peter get the fuck out of the car," Felicia ordered, not even looking up from her nails that she was inspecting.

------------------------------------

You sipped on your Old Fashion, your eyes darting to the front entrance.

This date was supposed to start in five minutes and Mr. Parker was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe whatever deity you prayed to, took mercy on you. Maybe he wouldn't show up.

Wouldn't that be something? Then you could focus on the absolute Adonis who just walked into the restaurant.

Adonis incarnated's brown eyes found yours. You sipped your cocktail, not breaking eye contact.

"Mr. Parker!" The man turned his head to face the hostess.

God. Damn. It.

You took a much bigger sip of your drink, the bourbon burning your throat.

Okay, he was attractive. Stupidly attractive.

You could admit that.

But he was still the guy who didn't even call you to ask you out. He called your manager. And he sent gifts and had his own private room in a restaurant and staff taking his jacket, all for showing off. All to impress you.

All to wield power over you.

You weren't going to allow that.

Which is why you couldn't help but smirk when you heard him ask the hostess "Why the hell is she sitting at the bar?"

You could hear the hostess try to explain what had happened as best as she could without saying you were being a stubborn bitch.

"Whatever, I'll get her myself," You heard him tell her.

This should be fun.

You turned your attention back to the bar, your eyes focused on one of the many expensive bottles of alcohol that were adorning the glass shelves.

The sound of footsteps quickly approached you. You continued drinking your cocktail, staring straight ahead. He was the one who set up the day, he could be the one who said hello first.

"Uh....hi." You turned your head, expecting to see arms crossed and a scowl across his face.

He was looking at the ground. Was his face red?

"Our room is ready."

"Nice to meet you too," You took another sip before turning to him, "My name is Y/N and I don't go into private rooms with men I don't know."

"Oh." He looked around, looking everywhere but you. Did he not do eye contact?

"Had you actually spoken to me beforehand, you would have learned that." You crossed your arms.

He finally looked at you. His brown eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. It was....different. It wasn't the lewd stare you were used to receiving.

He looked....nervous? No, that couldn't be it. No guy would track you down and take you out on a date if they didn't have an overblown ego.

"I uh....I can get us another table," He mumbled. He turned around, ready to walk back to the hostess' table. You could see his hands balling up into fists as he turned back around.

"I'm Peter."

-------------------------------

You stared out the window to admire the skyline of the city.

It was an amazing view. It reminded you of how the city was still beautiful, despite of the not so pretty parts.

"It's beautiful, right?"

Fuck you almost forgot you were on a date with him.

You turned to face him again, the candlelight casting a glow over his stupidly handsome face.

"Yeah, it's a really nice view," You admitted before taking another sip of your wine that cost more than what you make in a week.

"It's gorgeous, though not as-"

"Gorgeous as me?" You finished.

It wasn't the first time you had finished a pickup line of his that night. The guy really had no originality. His lack of response confirmed it.

You stared straight at him now, waiting for him to start his next cheesy pickup line.

And your stare burned through him. The man could barely look you in the eye. He was shifting in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.

It was strange.

His honeyed eyes fell upon your bare wrists, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"You're not wearing the bracelet," He said. Well, more like mumbled.

"Nope," you shrugged. This was it.

Because you read the note that was written in that box. The note whose handwriting was way too nice to actually be his. The note that went on about how even though the bracelet didn't shine as bright as your eyes, he looked forward to seeing it on you.

He would snap. Finally realize you were only a pretty face and call the date off.

"Did you....not like it?" With those big brown eyes, Peter Parker resembled moreso a puppy that just got it's favorite toy taken away than a pissed off man.

"I'm just not much of a jewelry wearer," You explained, your tone much softer than you desired.

He nodded his head.

You shrugged, "Would have known that if-"

"I spoke to you beforehand?" You weren't surprised that he finished your sentence. You were more surprised at the sliver of a smile that was creeping onto his face while he said it.

You nodded your head, "Seems to be the theme of the night."

He was trying. Which was the most baffling part. Normally when guys take you out for dinner, they're not nervous. Or at least don't show it.

But he was obviously nervous and it was borderline endearing. Which was the problem. You weren't supposed to be enjoying any part of the guy.

You looked out to admire the view again. You feared if you didn't, your eyes would wander to his hands again.

"Excuse me, can I borrow that? And that?" You turned to see Peter talking to a waiter, pointing to their notepad and pen.

Without any questions, the waiter gave their materials to him. He turned to a blank page.

"So no private rooms or jewelry," He said out loud as he wrote it down. He looked over to your plate, "and no to Italian food, given you've only eaten half of the best ravioli in the city."

"Wh-what are you doing?" He could not be doing what it looked like he was doing.

"Keeping track of what you like and don't like," Peter said, like it was obvious, "So what type of food do you like?"

"Uh...Thai. And you're doing this why?" This date was not going on how you expected and you were still unsure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He looked up at you, a small, sheepish smile on his face. Fuck, his eyes were beautiful. Beautiful and soft.

"As you can probably tell, I haven't been on a date in years. I think it's also safe to say I didn't exactly put my best foot forward. So I want to blow you away on our second date by actually doing stuff you enjoy," He explained.

Bold of you to assume there will be a second date, is what you wanted to say. But your mouth couldn't form those exact words.

"This is your first date in years?" Was what came out instead. You were surprised. The guy was incredibly attractive, and clearly had money and power from whatever job he did for a living.

He nodded his head and oh, he was definitely blushing and it was cute.

"I thought it was obvious when I forgot to introduce myself," He mumbled. You leaned forward to get a closer look at his handwriting on the notepad.

The handwriting matched the note.

Peter Parker handwrote that note himself.

"You okay?" It took you a moment to realize he was staring right at you. You never had been into brown eyes, but his were so big and looked like browned honey and reminded you of Bambi and-

Fuck you were screwed.

"Yeah! I just..." You bit your bottom lip, "Why don't we get out of here? It's kinda stuffy if I'm being honest."

"Doesn't like stuffy restaurants," He wrote down. His eyes widened, your words finally hitting Peter, "Oh. Uh yes, absolutely. Where to?"

"Not your bedroom. Or mine," You said quickly. There was no way you were letting him in that easy, "Why don't I just drive us around the city?"

"You drove here?"

You grinned, "No, but I know you did."

He cocked his head in confusion, though the corners of his mouth had turned upwards, "and what makes you think I'll let you drive my car, angel?"

"You want that second date or not?"

He chuckled and you could tell he was debating it.

"Fine, but only if our second date can be this Friday," He countered.

You smirked, "Eager, are we?"

Now it was his turn to smirk, "Thought I made that obvious too."

You could have turned him down. You could have said no.

But where was the fun in that?

Besides, he was letting you drive his very expensive car. And as you would soon learn, Peter was very much worth keeping around.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing vii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 4, 627

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

Despite being friends with three (well, now four) people on the football team—you didn’t fancy attending football games at all. It was highly unlike the usual scene you were comfortable with. It was loud, rowdy and people didn’t understand the concept of personal space when they’d shove and push others aside just to get a better glimpse of the players on the field.

Yet, you attended every single one of the football games—and you were a familiar enough face that the coach smiles at you when you hover outside the changing rooms; a simple request from the captain himself.

You’re a little shocked at yourself at the fact that you had no idea who Namjoon was prior to his introduction. He was the captain of the current football team, which apparently, throughout your college’s history—brought the most wins ever. And, he was also well-known that lecturers applauded him for his impeccable work-to-life balance.

Somehow, the divulgence of your own thoughts makes you frown. Because perhaps you were truly anti-social. You weren’t even acquainted with common school affairs in spite of being apart of the student council.

Maybe Jungkook was right.

You don’t dwell too much on your thoughts because you’re unable to, not when the door slams open and bodies of college men pour out with large shouts and their padded shoulders—looking very much prepared for their game.

The anxiety settles into the pit of your stomach when you realise you stick out like a sore thumb. The jeans and white top you were wearing was quite a typical outfit to wear to a game, with the addition of ironically—a baseball jacket. But when you were definitely smaller than the footballers; it was hard not to feel out of place.

Especially when they look you over before continuing out to the field. While you attended games before, you were never asked to meet in the changing rooms. Jimin and Taehyung knew well enough not to ask you, and Jungkook … well. You were always his dirty little secret, weren’t you?

And you see Jungkook first, grinning like a madman when another footballer brings him into a headlock and hollers something you assume is their hype-cheer.

It isn’t supposed to feel like this. Things were meant to have been settled, but the tight feeling in your chest when you look at him only reminds you that some things were hard to erase.

Before you can look away, Jungkook spots you—and he pushes the arms of his teammate off ever so slightly before turning to him and muttering a few words before he’s stalking towards you.

Your eyes widen, definitely not expecting him to pay you any mind.

“You’re here?” He furrows his brows.

You clear your throat, and you realise navigating a conversation with him after what’s transpired is much harder than you expected it to be. The fact that he was so casual about it when he left you with a kiss on your forehead makes you even more conflicted.

“I am.” You mumble. “I told you, remember?”

Jungkook blinks as if he remembers something, and his expression hardens ever so slightly before he’s schooling his features.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “I knew that. Just didn’t know you’d be … here.”

Here was probably referring to standing outside the changing rooms, and you can’t help but flush at the declaration.

“Um, yeah. Namjoon—” Before you can finish your sentence, you see the captain heading towards you with a large grin; looking over Jungkook for a brief moment.

“You’re here!” His words are exactly the same as Jungkook’s, but it evokes a different set of emotions in your chest.

You smile as sincerely as you can, which is proven difficult when you can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you.

“I am.” And you repeat the same thing you said to Jungkook. It feels odd, but you push the feelings aside. “Good luck, you.”

You offer a small punch to his shoulder, an awkward attempt at supporting him and you almost apologise but Namjoon smiles even wider.

His hand reaches out to your hair, gently patting it as he looks at you fondly. You don’t think anyone’s ever treated you so … tenderly before, not upfront and after one meeting at least. And you’re definitely flustered.

“Thank you. It means a lot that you’re here.” His dimples are on full show when he looks down at you with a kind gaze.

You clear your throat and look away, hoping the dim lights didn’t amplify the blush on your cheeks.

“Of course. We have that exhibition next to look forward to if all else goes South.” You grin cheekily up at him, words still soft.

You hope that your joke doesn’t rub him the wrong way, and it doesn’t because he snorts in response. All while Jungkook is silent.

“That’s a win itself, isn’t it?” He says smoothly, and your eyes widen at his blatant—or at least you think—flirting.

And before you can splutter a response, Jungkook is nudging Namjoon’s arm with his shoulder, the movement slightly rougher with his shoulder pads in place.

“We gotta go, Cap,” Jungkook says stiffly.

Namjoon doesn’t realise the hostility in his tone, but you do. And you frown ever so slightly, but you cover it up when Namjoon looks over at you with an apologetic expression.

“I’ll see you after the game?” He asks, eyes lighting up.

Your lips tilt upwards and you nod your head.

“Yeah.”

Namjoon jogs off first, not before grabbing his protective gear as Jungkook lingers ever so slightly, stuttering in his feet as you have the vision of his back towards you.

You’re about to head towards the bleachers, a spot that Namjoon purposefully reserved for you with help of his coach; but Jungkook turns around and his face is hesitant.

“Will you …” He swallows as you raise an eyebrow at his uncertainty. “Will you cheer for me?”

The question is odd, especially when you know that he’s aware that you were here for Namjoon. Usually, that would imply that you were rooting for him. But, you’ve never been able to say no to Jungkook. Not even when you want him to feel the same hurt you’ve felt.

“What friends are for, right?” You mumble, eyes darting to the ground for a second until you look back up at him again.

What you don’t say is that friends don’t do the things we did, or that there was no manual to teach you how to navigate the throes of your relationship after everything that’s happened. Nor do you tell Jungkook that you’re always cheering him on, but you can’t do it outwardly. Not tonight. Not for a while, too.

Jungkook’s face falls obscurely, but he forces a tight smile before grabbing his protective gear too.

“I’ll look for you,” Jungkook says.

Then he’s off, with a squeeze to your shoulder that leaves your heart feeling a lot heavier.

You ended up sitting next to the school photographer, who you now know as Yena. Prior to this, you’ve heard the student reporter club have a few intense individuals apart of them—word you heard from Yoongi, the President himself—and he was already as intimidating as one could get. But there was Yena, who essentially made people cower in fear when they’d make eye contact with her.

“What are you doing here?” Is the first thing she asks when you slide into your seat. Her tone isn’t condescending, neither was it purposely made to make you feel uncomfortable. Rather, she asked it in a rather bored tone—as if there were better things she could be doing.

“Um.” You squeak.

Yena rolls her eyes, “Relax. I’m not going to bite your head off despite my grotesque appearance. Ever heard of a conversation starter?”

You blink.

“You’re very pretty.” You say softly.

Yena narrows her eyes at you for what seems like forever as you clear your throat. Then, she snorts before patting you on the shoulder.

“I didn’t mean objectively ugly, sweetheart.”

The tilt of her lips make your ears flush and you never found yourself downright intimidated by someone, but there was something about her that made you want to listen to her.

“O-Oh.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re too nice, _____. Has anyone ever told you that?” She emphasises her point with a tilt of her head.

“N-Not really …” You mumble.

She sighs as she kicks her feet on top of the railings in front of her while her eyes follow the line of footballers that pour onto the field, already moving towards a group huddle.

Her camera is already in her hands when she snaps the shot like second nature, before plopping back into her seat.

“Well, you are. People are gonna eat you alive, you know?” She says pointedly.

You fiddle with your fingers before you find the courage to look at her.

“How did you know who I was?” You wonder out loud with furrowed brows.

Yena scoffs before turning to look at you with a blank expression. And it’s the worst part in you that makes you think that you’ve said something wrong.

“You’re kidding, right?” She deadpans. “Girl who made honours three years in a row? First female student council president? Lecturers pet? Curve-setter? The list goes on, really.”

You flush as you turn your head away.

“I didn’t mean …” You mutter.

She waves you off. “You don’t have to sound so guilty about it. You’re smart and you’re capable. Own it.” She shrugs.

You blink up at her with wide eyes, and for the first time; she properly looks at you and your surprised expression.

“Thank you.” You say softly.

When a whistle blows, the game has somehow started and you have half the mind to begin cheering like the rest of the crowd. But the awkward part of you remains rooted in position.

“So.” Yena leans in with a grin on her face. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

It’s … odd. Purely because you’ve never spoken to her before and you’ve briefly heard about her in passing when you communicate with Yoongi on pastoral affairs. And for someone to speak to you so freely and casually, like you’ve been friends for years—feels nice.

And it’s probably also because you didn’t have any girl friends that you could really trust. People on campus were … they were mean and they usually wanted something from you, whether it was to get to one of your friends or get insights on events so they’d get a boost on their reputation.

“Earth to _____?” She drawls.

You snap your head towards her and your ears turn red once again.

“There’s isn’t … any guy.” You confess.

Yena snorts as if she doesn’t believe you.

“Really now?” Her grin approaches a smile when she rests her chin on her palm. “You know not just anyone sits here, right?”

You shrug. “What about you? Who’s the lucky guy?”

She blinks, then leans back before kicking one leg across her other.

“Photographer pros. Or cons. Especially if you consider watching disgusting men sweat and chase after balls is something to be grateful for.” She rolls her eyes.

You laugh when she complains, and it’s likely the first time you’ve relaxed your shoulders around her.

“That does sound kind of gross.”

She nods her head as if to say right, before offering you a cheeky grin.

Then, her eyes zero onto the field, then back to your face—and eventually back to the field before she hops off her seat once again; waving her camera to signal you that she was going to carry out her duties.

You think Yena’s cool. A little intense, and kind of scary—but a nice person nevertheless. Maybe you were a blind optimist that saw the good in everyone, but there was something about her that you really liked. The kind of person you wish you could become.

The cheers get immensely louder, especially when you note that Jungkook’s scored a goal—his beaming expression displayed on the big screen while you hear girls and guys alike cheering his name.

It’s times like this where you’re reminded of how different you were from him. While he received praise and approval from the masses and was born to be loved by them. You were quite the opposite; the cheerer and the supporter but never quite the one receiving it.

His eyes skim the crowd, and you can see from the screen that his brows furrow ever so slightly. But he’s quick to return to his groove, fist-bumping a teammate along the way.

You sigh because even when you weren’t intentionally looking for him it’s like your heart only wants you to see what’s familiar. And funnily enough, the hurt is familiar too.

In the middle of it all, you try your best to smile—and throw in a small whoop on your own, hoping to blend in but be present enough to be heard.

Yena returns only when it’s half-time, her own body covered in sweat while she huffs, slapping a stray strand of hair away from her face.

“God. You’d think they’d slow down after fifteen minutes but nooo. They have to go flex on their fragile masculinities because they think growling and ripping off their shirts is peak alpha male character.” Yena mutters and it’s the first thing you hear from her.

You offer her a sympathetic smile before digging into your bag and pulling out a handkerchief, one that you always carry around.

“Here.” You smile at her toothily.

Yena eyes the fabric sceptically before looking at your face and back to the handkerchief.

“You sure?”

You nod your head, jutting out your hand once more to emphasise your point.

“Ah. I can see why Namjoon nabbed you up.” Yena coos, ruffling your hair as your eyes widen.

“H-How—?”

“How did I know? Well besides the fact that my job is to literally stick with the team and capture moments and make them look pretty—I’m nosey.” Yena shrugs and your face pales. “Oh, and I saw you guys at the changing room too.”

If she saw … that meant—

“Thought you were with the meathead Jeon for a moment.” Yena snorts.

Your eyes dart down to your lap, and Yena picks up on your silence immediately. But unlike the conventional person; despite her curiousity, she respected your privacy more. So she doesn’t, she just offers you a smile and a nudge to your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Yena assures, sighing as the voices of the footballers fill your area as they come up for refreshment. “He’s nice.” You weren’t sure who she was referring to so you just nod.

“Yena—pass me a bottle!” A boy calls, and you half expect her to do so, but instead, she delivers him one better—a middle finger.

“Get it your self you dickwad!” Yena calls back.

Your eyes widen when you turn your head to look at her, completely unbothered when the footballer shoots daggers at her nonchalant figure.

“Men. Think you always owe them something.” She scoffs.

You find yourself unconsciously nodding your head, and once again Yena recognises the gesture but doesn’t mention anything.

Instead, she turns towards you and levels you with a wide grin of her own.

“You’re cool. We should hang out.”

The declaration makes your eyes widen even more and you realise how much you’ve fumbled and made yourself look … stiff the entire time you were attempting to converse with Yena. But she seemed to be unbothered, and the thought makes you excited.

“We should?” You parrot with a squeak.

She nods and you’re still finding it hard to process the fact that she’d brought that up out of the blue.

You weren’t bad company. But you were … you.

“You’re like Ms Bona Fide.” Yena tuts. “People these days are either out to please or to receive.”

You furrow your brows.

“And I’m … not?” You say softly.

“You’re present.” Yena shrugs and throws you an easy-going smile.

God. She was so cool.

Namjoon scores the final goal.

You expect him to call the hangout off because, well, he’d closed the game and he was the captain. It was only normal that he’d want to celebrate.

So when Yena nudges your shoulders while your head is bent and focused on your mobile device, you slowly looked up with furrowed brows to see her cocking her head to the side with a knowing grin on her face.

And you see Namjoon, out of his gear and in a plain t-shirt and sweats while he waves at you.

You can’t help but gape at him.

“I see you’ve surrendered to good company instead of a zoo.” Yena greets Namjoon first with a snort.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and you gauge that they’re at least well-acquainted. Acquainted enough that Namjoon subtly tries to flick her off, but you catch the gesture as soon as it comes.

“Promises are promises.” Namjoon shrugs as if he wasn’t aware that you were still gaping at him. Mouth open like a fish out of the water.

“Well—be nice, captain.” Yena whistles, throwing her camera into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder before she turns to look at you, a gentle nudge with her shoulder to yours as she levels you with an intentional look in her eyes.

“Don’t start any fights, Yena.” Namjoon gently chides, but his tone is joking.

Yena waves him off, then waves at you one last time, leaning down to whisper something into your ear that has you flushing.

“Tell me how it goes when we hang out.”

And she leaves you with a keen sense of excitement on the prospect of a new friend like her to look forward to hanging out with.

Namjoon looks over at you, and gently reaches for the tote bag you’ve slung over your shoulder as he tugs it off you with a soft pull.

“Let me.” His smile is all teeth and dimpled grins when you reluctantly let him take your bag from you.

“Thank you.” You murmur, eyes attempting to look at him but his gaze is so focused on yours that you find it difficult to make eye contact.

“We’ve got an exhibition to go to, don’t we?”

You nod your head enthusiastically as he chuckles, allowing you to lead the way as you find a little prep in your steps. It was nice. Having a friend like Namjoon.

“Captain’s not coming?” Yugyeom groans, ruffling his hair with a towel as the rest of the footballers filter out of the changing room.

Jimin snorts in response. “No. He’s got a date.” The emphasis on the word date is obvious in the immature sense, evoking wide eyes as responses.

“He bailed on us for some pussy?!” Yugyeom cries.

Jungkook has to clench his fists by his side when he hears how his teammate casually referred to you as just some pussy. You weren’t just … that.

“Watch your tone,” Jimin growls, and Jungkook’s thankful that Jimin was more of the confrontational type and didn’t allow shit like this to slide easily. Especially when it came to you. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

Yugyeom’s eyes widened before gawking at the blonde boy.

“You mean Namjoon is going on a date with _____?” The rest of the footballers murmur in response, possibly out of confusion. “How did they—doesn’t she not … date?”

Jimin sighs, already ready with a response on the tip of his tongue but Jeonghan, the keeper interjects.

“Wait, I was under the impression that she and Jeon were a thing?”

At the mention of his name tangled with yours, Jungkook, who has been relatively silent throughout, freezes as his hands stop rummaging through his duffel bag while he tries to ignore the inquisitive stares he’s receiving from his teammates.

“W-What?” Jungkook stutters caught off guard.

Yugyeom narrows his eyes at the boy, while Jimin silently observes with an unreadable expression.

“Now that you mention it …” He trails off, head tilting upwards as if he was deep in thought. “I did always see the two of them alone with each other.”

Jungkook clears his throat as he lets out a nervous chuckle, his hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck.

“We’re friends,” Jungkook says stiffly and he hopes it’s believable, despite his hoarse voice. “Friends hang out.”

Jeonghan snorts. “Or she’s a two-timer.”

This time, Jungkook can’t keep his face neutral.

“Talk about her like that one more time and I’ll make sure you never speak again.” He growls to the other boy, whose eyes widen in response.

“I was kidding—” He raises his hands in defense but Jungkook is shoving the remainder of his belongings into his duffel bag before hauling it over his shoulder and storming out of the room, ears burning in both frustration and anger.

“You don’t joke about this type of shit,” Jungkook mutters under his breath right as he leaves the rest of the members brewing with confused expressions as they look at one another with concerned expressions.

Namjoon, as expected, is a museum enthusiast. That much you could assess when he was excitedly chirping about how much he appreciated all types of art, abstract, modern and contemporary and vintage—you name it and he could likely give you a break down of the nuances behind styles and techniques.

He is also great company. Namjoon is a comfortable line between involved and chivalrous, never pushing farther than what you were able to offer but engaging you in insightful discussions that you found yourself being intrigued by.

While you expected more … forward gestures, Namjoon is respectful and you’re surprised but not really. He was mannered encompassed into human form.

So, when the security guard informs you that the exhibition was over and that the two were the last guests in the hall—the two of you reluctantly had to bring your night to an end.

“That was fun,” Namjoon says once the two of you exit the hall, just two figures in the night who have thousands of words to say about the masterpieces you’ve witnessed.

“Honestly, I was already looking forward to it but seeing the pieces the art students curated in person was just another type of euphoria.” You confess.

Namjoon nods in agreement. “I totally agree. You can just tell that they’ve really dedicated all their free time to the work they’ve displayed.”

“Art is beautiful, isn’t it?” You mumble, eyes looking back to the museum as you grin up at Namjoon who’s already looking at you.

“Yeah.” He breathes, and the way he’s looking at you under the dim moonlight makes you irrevocably flustered. “Beautiful.”

You clear your throat as you shift on your heels, hoping the blush on your cheeks isn’t too apparent. The night was still wondrous, and you feel a type of comfort in Namjoon that you haven’t felt in a very long time. But there’s still a lingering thought in the substandard part of your mind that reminds you of doe-eyes and a bunny smile.

“Thank you for your time, Namjoon.” You say shy, fiddling with your thumbs.

When you find the courage to look at his face, he’s already beaming at you.

“No. Thank you.” He reassures. “I know you’re super busy so for you to find time out of your schedule to hang with a virtual stranger really means a lot to me.”

Your eyes widen, but then your face neutralises as you flush.

“I’m not that busy …” You mumble.

Namjoon chuckles. He doesn’t even snort or offer a sarcastic remark in response. He just acknowledges it with a kind smile and doesn’t comment further.

He’s different from what you’re used to. A challenge. A burst of rebellion that loved to roll remarks off his tongue.

You don’t want to think of him just yet.

“Regardless. You’re here. And I’m grateful.”

You nod your head lamely, clutching your bag into your chest (after relentlessly whining to Namjoon to allow you to hold it yourself when you felt a little useless).

“I should—I should head back.” You cock your thumb towards the direction of your apartment.

Immediately, Namjoon steps forward and is ready to head the same way you are.

“Let me walk you back.”

“I can’t possibly—”

“I’m not asking this time, ______.” He frowns.

You snap your lips shut. Though you did feel a little bad, it was late and the rational part of you knew that it was best if Namjoon walked you home.

“Okay.” You say softly.

Before you can begin walking, he tugs you by the elbow so gently, but firm enough for you to nearly stumble into his chest.

And he’s so tall, so you’re peering up at him with wide eyes as you gauge his nervous expression.

“I-I’m sorry if this is a little forward but—” Namjoon clears his throat. “W-Well I think—I really think you’re nice. And great. Like—good company, you know? So I’d r-really—I’d enjoy—”

You blink at him as he attempts to find his words.

“Namjoon.” You whisper gently, tugging the hem of his shirt.

At your gesture, his mind blanks but he remembers that you’re still looking up at him with a confused gaze.

“Okay. Fuck.” He whines as a giggle escapes your throat when he peers at you with an exasperated expression. “I’m not usually this much of a mess. You just make me nervous.”

“O-Oh.” You breathe, “I do?”

Namjoon sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I don’t know if it was obvious but I’m kind of into you.” He says softly, rubbing his hand over his neck.

You don’t expect it, not at all. So you can only muster gawking at him at his sudden confession.

“And you don’t need to—you don’t need to say anything about it. We can pretend like I didn’t just confess to you. We can just be friends.” He rambles, eyes wide. “I just wanted to let you know … yeah. So I really hope we can still continue to hang out even though you might think I’m a creep and I really didn’t offer to walk you home because I had intentions. Really just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You continue looking at Namjoon with wide eyes. Because you’ve never been on this end before. The one receiving the confession. You’ve never really given a confession either, and you try to suppress the bitter memories of the confession you tried to give Jungkook that wasn’t verbal but with your presence.

With you giving up certain parts of yourself for him so he could see you.

“Please say something.” Namjoon chuckles nervously.

“I—…” You choke. “I don’t know what to say.”

“We can pretend like I didn’t just say that.” He winces.

You shake your head. “No. No. It’s fine, Namjoon. Really.” You reassure him gently. “I really appreciate it … I just didn’t … expect it.” You finish lamely.

“You’re a very interesting person,” Namjoon tells you, lips twitching in an attempt to lighten the awkward atmosphere.

Interesting? You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone call you interesting before. Not outright, at least.

“I’m really not.” You say sadly.

Namjoon furrows his brows but doesn’t reach out to you further, his hands still remaining limp by his sides.

“Hey.” His voice calls out. “You are. You’re definitely one of the most interesting people I’ve met in my life.”

You blink.

“T-Thank you.”

He waves you off, gesturing towards where you gestured towards earlier.

“Shall we?”

And somehow, Namjoon has a way of making everything feel easy. Like a temporary space for you to feel safe, to feel wanted.

So why doesn’t your heart flutter?

[lilac-5ky]

I just read your latest Takasugi headcanon/drabble/idk what to call it and now I am curious

What IS in his shopping list👁️👄👁️

Like it got to my head and now I NEED TO KNOW

Lmao anyways u can share your headcanons on it if you actually have any specific thoughts. I'd just like to know lol

Somehow, I knew I had it coming 😂But, as always, I'm going to be serious about it and I'll give it some proper thinking!

Let me start by saying that Takasugi doesn't just go shopping whenever he pleases. For starters, he is a terrorist and a wanted man, he can't just walk in Edo Mart and be like yo, what aisle for brussels sprouts? And even if he wasn't can you imagine Takasugi just strolling through the supermarket, comparing prices and reading the additives of each product? 😂 Not gonna lie, I pity the employees, he'd just give them THE STARE. What do you mean you have no yakult? 👀 Don't get me wrong, he'd be a very respectful customer, wouldn't cause any trouble. Unless he ran into Gintoki, then he might as well bury his face in the first shelf he finds. But anyways, anyways, let's not get off topic here!

Takasugi would rarely shop by himself and most of the time, Matako or someone else would personally handle his shopping list. But on the rare occasion he goes shopping, then this is what I would imagine his list to be!

Warning: SOME OF IT MAKES ZERO SENSE OKAY but I'm getting a vibe for it, I promise

his look when they are out of his beloved beverage :)))))))

Sugi's Shopping List

Yakult

it's his priority, he loves it, come on!

Yoghurt

considering how he likes yakult so much, I can see him getting behind yoghurt honestly. Even having a bit of a childish eating habit and picking those flavored small yoghurts that are meant for kids. I don't think he'd openly admit to it that's why it's something he'd purchase when going shopping on his own.

String Cheese

another childish habit I can see him having. string cheese is something he can eat on the run and basically, many of the foods I'm going to include are ones you can eat on the go. basically snacks that don't need to be prepared and can be consumed as they are.

Tofu

even if he might indulge himself in certain western delicacies, at his core, Takasugi is a traditional man. rather than actual cheese, he'd opt for tofu.

Eggs

eggs are just... eggs, you know? so many dishes include them, so yeah.

Tea leaves

but you know, not the cheap Lipton ones. he has high standards after all! rather than coffee, I see him more as a tea kinda guy buuuut

Coffee Beans

he would like to have some coffee around and I feel like he'd be good at brewing it himself, just like his tea. i can see him and bansai sitting together while drinking either, honestly.

Water

he is a human, humans drink water, what can I say? plus, i doubt he can find high quality water lying in space.

Fruits and Vegetables

now this is the harder for me to think, because i can't really tell what kind of fruits or veggies he'd prefer. i feel like he is into healthy food, considering how yakult is basically probiotics and if he could afford to have a proper meal, he'd go for it. i can see him being into berries (NOT STRAWBERRIES BECAUSE GIN which actually arent berries at all but eh), grapes, lychees, persimmons, dates, plums or perhaps the occasional apple too. i'm afraid i can't offer an exact explanation as to why i chose these specific ones but eh, it be like this sometimes. about veggies now, lotus roots, edamame, yams, cabbage, daikon, seaweed (not really a veggie but dk what to consider it here ;-;), mushrooms and beets. i wanna say eggplants too because they are purple and well... heh.

i guess something these things have in common are that they can be either eaten individually, or are widely used in japanese cuisine.

Nuts

YEAH YEAH, I CAN HEAR THE SNICKERS FROM HERE ABOUT THIS ONE. still, nuts are a great source of NUTrients. also for some reason, i can see Takasugi liking something that requires a bit of work? now this will sound weird af but i can totally imagine him spitting the shells (or seeds since i mentioned fruits) at gintoki or people who annoy him (throwback sakamoto spit translate scene). i dont know, maybe it's because he smokes, maybe it's because he uses his fingers a lot WHEN PLAYING THE SHAMISEN, DON'T GET ME WRONG, i can see him liking foods that need some work. that's what i meant. yeah? yeah.

Sweets?

i don't see him as a sweet kinda guy, not gonna lie. but, perhaps he would indulge in an occasional chocolate candy bar. perhaps a darker chocolate? if he got a craving, i'd still think he'd opt for more traditional stuff so, perhaps dorayaki or mochi would catch his eye, if the store had some premade ones.

Miso paste

absolute MUST for breakfast.

Rice

Gum?

this one is debatable. he is a smoker, he has shitty breath, gum is easy to pop in for some freshness i guess. if he needed to have a clean breath, this is the lazy way to do it.

Soy sauce

the answer to the eternal debate of ketchup vs mayo would be soy sauce for him. this is the way of the ancestors, somehow.

Noodles

another no brainer. if you ask me, he is more of a soba kinda guy though.

Meat/Fish

usually he doesn't buy such things himself. he isn't the one to cook his own meals so... plus, meat and fish take a long of time to prepare. i think of him more as a fish kinda guy, not sure why though. if he can get his hands on some fresh fish, he'll go for it.

OH AND, not exactly fish but, Mentaiko!

Onigiri

Takasugi is a bit of a sentimental fool, no denying here. onigiri is a food linked to his childhood and to Katsura. he would eat such things behind everyone's back and if anyone noticed and asked him if he wanted some, he'd deny it, claiming that he hated the taste of him. still, i feel like it's a food he'd buy without second thought, if he happened to find it in the store.

Jelly Beans

another troll-y food choice. they are tasty and can be eaten on the go. i can see him being very picky about the order he eats them in, going as far as to not eat a certain type of flavor at all!

Alcohol

man needs to drown his pain somehow. Sake, Umeshu, Nigori, Shochu, i can see him drinking each of them. usually with Bansai, he is his certified drinking buddy. sometimes Matako and Takechi join too but they get wasted! Matako gets all flustered, attaching herself to him "Shinsuke sam~AaaaaaAAAa", she is just a mess. Takechi's lolicon comments intensify and he might honestly try to annoy Matako who just gets defensive and cries harder while wiping her nose on Takasugi's sleeve... yeah....no, it's better if he just drinks with Bansai on second thought.

Hygiene Products

i feel like Takasugi is very hygienic when he can afford to be. he is someone who obviously puts thought in his appearance and so i can see shampoo and shower gels being up high in his list. funnily enough, i can see him as someone who could potentially get behind bath bombs! they are relaxing, have a certain aesthetic and hey, BUBBLES! but mainly, i feel like he is a soap bar kinda type. he prefers clean scents without bells and whistles. perhaps something that has a bit of a flowery scent? basically relaxing stuff. definitely an ylang ylang or sandalwood kinda guy (damn i'm reading too much into it). also toothbrush, toothpaste, the usual stuff. floss too. gotta wash the tobacco away.

oh and of course, he is clueless about detergents. he doesn't handle that at all, Matako takes care of his laundry somehow. he frowned upon her about it in the start, but she's managed to find a smell he likes so they are good.

Tobacco

wasn't sure if i should add that because not all regular stores have that but yeah, he needs it for his kiseru!

MAN, I spent so much time thinking about this. Not in a million years would I ever think that I'd be writing Takasugi Shinsuke's personal shopping list. But there is always a first, I guess! These are just my opinions/headcanons/guts, call them whatever you want, really. Some of these have a base I guess while others are just hunches.

Hope this wasn't too out of character, hey, I DID MY BEST! I loved this ask though, it was so particular and different from what I usually do or think about.

[taetaespeaches]

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.2K

a/n: Finally we have some fluff again! I mean, the angst is still here, but we’re getting to a resolution. This drabble is inspired by “this is me trying” off of Taylor Swift’s album, folklore, and it takes place after, “You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” This also includes a hint of crack for some comic relief, and because where Jin and Poopsie go, crack follows. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)) 

STEPPING into your apartment, returning home from work, your eyes scanned the small space with distaste. You dreaded coming home to your empty sofa and your empty kitchen and your very empty bed. Even more so, you hated the disappointment you felt in yourself for letting another person get so close to you that they started to feel like home.

Dropping your bag at the front door, you kicked your shoes off carelessly before making your way straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Your showers had been doubling in length, perhaps in hopes that the heat of the water would scald the past couple months right off your skin. Or maybe it was just to feel something other than the hurt.

It was just two months of your life. Why was it having such an impact? It had only been three days since Yoongi walked out, so you hoped it was just the newness of it all that had you feeling so hollow.

Yoongi was just stopping by the dorm for a change of clothes and then he was heading back to the studio. He had spent three days straight in his studio, not even returning to the dorms after leaving your place. Whereas his fans would probably think he was working hard on the second Agust D mixtape, he was mostly just sulking.

He did what was best right? You said you were ruining yourself over him. He was ruining you. So, he left. He didn’t try to work it out, he left. For you. That way, you would have a chance at happiness with someone else. Someone more suitable for you. Someone who could give you what you deserve.

Walking toward his bedroom with his overnight bag in tow, the sound of his roommate’s squeaky laughter echoed through the hallway. Yoongi was suddenly very thankful for the isolation his studio provided, as he remembered Jin saying his girlfriend was visiting family for a few days so he wouldn’t get to see her right away upon returning to Korea from Japan. She must be back now.

“I don’t care if the whole game and franchise is named after Mario, Yoshi is hands down the best character in the Mario realm, and that’s just a fact,” her ranting sounded through the closed door, Jin interrupting her with overdramatic sound effects. Yoongi’s hand was on the doorknob and he had half a mind to ignore his need for a change of clothes and escape back to his studio before anyone noticed he was there.

“There wouldn’t even be a Yoshi if it weren’t for Mario because there would be no Mario franchise,” Jin shouted back, Yoongi’s motions still stalled as he stood on the other side of the door in disbelief. Fucking Mario? Really?

With a sigh, Yoongi opened the door, clearing his throat to alert the two idiots of his presence. Jin’s head popped up off the pillows, greeting Yoongi with an, “oh, hey,” his girlfriend sitting up from her spot next to Jin on the bed.

“Oh, Yoongi, thank god you’re here,” she exclaimed, Yoongi flashing her a surprised expression. “Tell Jin that Yoshi is the best Mario character.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it,” Jin shouted with wide eyes, his girlfriend turning to look at him. “Yoshi can be your favorite character, but you can’t argue he’s the best.”

“Why can’t I?” She complained, Yoongi quickly losing all interest as he escaped to his side of the room, separated from the bickering couple by a large bookcase.

“Because it’s not called Super Yoshi, or Yoshi Kart,” Jin informed her. Yoongi hurried around his belongings, shoving some clothes into his bag so he could get back to this studio without being dragged back into the couple’s pointless disagreement.

“You’re so annoying,” she huffed, Jin laughing at her attitude.

Zipping the bag back up, Yoongi started toward the door, anxious to get out of the dorm, away from everyone.

“Aw, but I got you something in Japan,” Jin told his girlfriend. Her silence piqued Yoongi’s interest, for reasons unknown to Yoongi, enough for him to look back. She was looking at Jin with her eyebrows raised as Jin pulled out a Yoshi figure from his pocket. “It’s Yoshi!” Yoongi watched as the girl held back a smile, trying to keep up her challenging glare. “I may disagree with you, but I support you and your poor judgement,” Jin teased the girl, lowering himself onto his knees on the bed.

“I'm in love with you, so you may be on to something with the poor judgement thing,” the girl teased right back, taking the figure before cooing at it. “It’s so cute, thank you,” she told him, Yoongi quickly exiting the room.

Part of him found the two lovers cute. A much bigger part found them annoying and gross. Shoving their love in everyone’s faces. He felt like a bitter old man as he shuffled out of the dorm angrily. Why was it that Jin could manage a relationship? How was it that Jin could have his shit together, but Yoongi couldn't? And Hoseok for that matter. Hell, even Namjoon was seeing someone. Why couldn't Yoongi do the same? Making his way out of the building, you overtook his mind. You would have called him out on being a bitter old man. “Jesus, Grampa Min, stop being so grumpy,” he could hear you saying with a giggle. You’d probably even press a kiss to his forehead, flashing him a warm smile. All anger and bitterness dissipated from his body, leaving him sad and frustrated with himself, even more so than before.

Another addition to the list of things you were growing to hate about your living space: it was cold. Bundled up in a large sweatshirt, baggy sweatpants, and colorful fluffy socks on your feet, you waited in the kitchen for your water to boil. All you wanted to do was have a cup of tea and plant yourself in front of the TV to waste away while watching the next Netflix series in your queue. Your still wet hair only made you colder, a shiver moving through your body, causing you to let out a groan.

You resisted the urge to check your phone. He surely hadn’t texted, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the pain that struck your heart every time you saw no notifications from him.

As you mindlessly played with the ends of your damped hair, a knock suddenly sounded on your door, and your heart dropped into your stomach. It had to be him. No one ever visited you at 6:30 pm on a Thursday night. You thought about not answering it, but when the knock sounded again, you convinced yourself you could be wrong. It could be someone else.

Then you caught yourself hoping it wasn't someone else.

Hesitantly, you opened the door, and if you weren’t so angry you would have cried at the sight in front of you.

Yoongi stood in your doorway, dark circles just as prominent as three days ago, eyes puffy and slightly red, one of his hands shoved into his pants pocket, the other hanging by his thigh as he held onto a bouquet of tulips.

Your eyes lingered on the flowers for a moment, not because you really cared about the gesture, but because the appearance of the man who had always been so composed before now looking so completely broken on your doorstep was almost too devastating for your heart to bear.

His eyes scanned your features desperately, though neither of you spoke. It was hard to find the words.

It felt like minutes passed by before Yoongi finally opened his mouth to say something, though he struggled to get the words out. “Kid, I-” he started, tears forming in his eyes.

“I don’t want your flowers if they come with disillusions,” you told him bitterly, holding onto your anger, despite the bubbling feeling of wanting to wrap him up in your arms.

Your eyes followed a tear as it slid off his plush cheek, the cheeks you adored so much, landing on the side of his hand. “If you want me to lay out all my mistakes right now, I will,” he told you sincerely, the comment taking you by surprise. “For starters, I shouldn’t have left. I should have fought with you, I should have stayed to finish that fight,” he said in frustration, partly to himself.

Maybe the words should have confused you, but you understood exactly what he was saying. For you both to express your frustrations with each other and with yourselves, the fight needed to happen. With Yoongi leaving, you didn’t get to the point of discussion following the anger. Instead, he walked away, as if you weren’t worth fighting with, or for.

“Why did it take you three days to come back?” You asked, a strange mixture of anger and sadness and hope swirling around your stomach.

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back,” he admitted sadly, wiping his face with the back of his hand to get rid of the tears, the bouquet messing his fringe as it made contact with his forehead. He avoided eye contact, keeping his stare directed to your fuzzy sock-covered feet.

“Of course, I care,” you told him, taking a step back to allow him space to enter your apartment. His eyes followed the colorful fluffy material as you moved aside. “Now get in here so we can fight.”

You barely noticed the quirk in Yoongi's lip as it curved just slightly into the tiniest of smiles. He entered your apartment tentatively, and his presence already made it feel more like home again. You felt certain in that moment that no matter what room he walked into, it would feel like home.

Turning toward you, still avoiding your eyes but raising his gaze to your waist, he weakly held up the bouquet. "These are tulips," he told you dumbly, finishing the statement off with a sniffle.

You stared at him for a moment but he didn't continue. "I know," you finally said.

Another beat went by as you faced each other, a feeling of awkwardness enveloping the room. “They symbolize-" he started, just as the teapot started screaming in the kitchen.

“Hang on,” you told him, rushing to the kitchen to remove the pot from the stove, turning the burner off. For a moment, you thought about sitting in the kitchen for a moment to gather your thoughts, but with a vulnerable Min Yoongi standing just a few feet away, you found yourself hurrying back to him.  

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked, Yoongi looking to the side of the room.

“Tulips symbolize-”

"Yoongi,” you breathed out. “I don't care about the flowers right now, what are you doing here?" You cut him off, getting straight to the point.

"I want to fix this," he told you sincerely, lifting his gaze to meet yours.

You shrugged. "And how?" He stared at you for a moment, so you decided to continue. "I'm sick of feeling like I'm not wanted."

Yoongi quickly negated the comment, shaking his head. "I always want you."

"Then why do I feel unwanted by you?" Your volume raised as you asked the question, Yoongi appearing to hold his breath for a moment. Letting it out in a shaky breath, he looked back to your feet. "You say you want me but your actions say different, Yoongi. And you can't tell me how I feel, I feel unwanted."

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes. "I'm not trying to tell you how you feel, I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I made you feel that way," his voice broke.

"I don't want to hold this over your head, and I don't want you beating yourself up for it," you told him. "I just want you. But if I can't have you and feel good about myself and us, then I need to you to leave and I need you to stay gone." Speaking the words added cracks to your heart, but it also lifted a weight off your shoulders.

"I deal with a lot of shit," he suddenly said, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Mentally. And that mixed with my work- I'm afraid of putting you through hell just because I'm selfish and want you," he told you with tears in his eyes. That’s what he’s afraid of? Putting his burdens on you? "I get so stuck in my head and I was in Japan and all I could think of was you and,” he sighed, looking into your eyes. “Fuck, Kid, I wanted to call you every moment I was gone. But that's for me, what am I giving you?" He shrugged hopelessly.

"You," you told him, your tears threatening to fall. "You're giving me you."

"And what's that worth?" His question shattered your heart. What's that worth?

"Baby, that's worth everything to me," you told him. "When you’re actually giving yourself to me, I feel more like myself. I feel braver and happier and-" looking back at the bouquet in his hands, you asked, "why tulips?"

He stalled for a moment, surprised by the question. "Right now?" Nodding at him, you bit back a grin. A faint smile appeared on his face, scoffing at himself. "Tulips can mean rebirth and forgiveness and true love, and I'm not saying we're in love,” he quickly backtracked. “I mean not yet, but we could be some day, and," he spoke slow but he was lost in his words, panicking over bringing up love, and the sight of him trying to find his way was enough to make you crack a smile. His speech faded out as he watched your face brighten just the slightest bit, a blush overtaking his plush cheeks. "I don't know what the fuck flowers mean, I don't know what I'm doing."

"That much is obvious," you teased, Yoongi letting out a single breathy chuckle at the comment.

"All I know how to do is care about you, Kid," he shrugged.

Tears forming in your eyes at his confession, you shook your head. "Then care about me."

"I'm trying," he told you, staring into your eyes. For a man who usually avoided eye contact, you were surprised by the sincerity he was trying to convey as he held your gaze. "I really am trying."

"I know," you nodded. And he was.  

"I wanted to protect you from me," he added, his orbs scanning your face. "But fuck, Kid, I can't stay away from you." You watched him thoughtfully as he spoke. "But when I saw the hurt in your face-" he paused to compose his emotions. "When you said you thought I left that morning," he shook his head. "That's when I first realized what I was doing to you."

"But you don't have to do that to me," you reminded him. "You don't have to protect me from you, I've told you I'm prepared to be with you regardless of your lifestyle and your work." Yoongi stared at you as you spoke, and you cocked your head at him. "I'm ok with the time apart and the late-night dates and the days where we can only fit a few texts in.”

“But are you ok with me? And everything that comes with me?” He asked. He was really asking, he needed the assurance.

“Of course, I am,” you told him definitively. “I want all of you. You don’t need to wear this mask around me, you don’t need to shield me from you. And you’re not the only one with demons,” you told him. “I want you and everything that comes with you. I’m just not ok with feeling like I'm always about to lose you."

"Baby," he whispered.

"I can't keep being afraid that every time you walk out the door, you might not come back," you whimpered, a tear falling down your cheek. "I need assurance too, I need to know you're in this with me as much as I am with you." Yoongi nodded quickly.

"If you want me here, I'm here," he assured you, sincerity coating his words.

"I want you here," you told him. Yoongi suddenly tossed the bouquet onto the table before approaching you. His arms wrapped around your body before you could react, your arms slowly folding over him, holding him close to you as he buried his face in your hair. You felt a kiss on the top of your head, your body responding by relaxing against his frame, turning your face to nuzzle it against his neck. "I'm sorry for the shit I said," you mumbled against his cool skin, still slightly cold from the night air.

"Don't apologize," he whispered into your hair.

"I didn't mean the mean shit," you added, Yoongi chuckling at the obvious pout on your lips.

"You were hardly mean, Kid," he told you, pulling away just a bit to look down at you with a soft smile, his eyes glistening in emotion.

“Well, I’ll never mean the mean shit,” you said with a small smile.

"I missed you,” he told you as he wiped the fallen tears off your cheeks.

"I missed you too," you whispered. “We were supposed to fight, you know,” you added teasingly.

“That wasn’t a fight?” He questioned in feigned surprise. “We still can if you want,” he playfully responded, his eyes widened humorously.

“You came in here trying to explain flower symbolization and I just couldn’t get mad at you,” you giggled, Yoongi smiling adorably just before pushing his lips to yours, giving you a sweet kiss. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away again.

"Yoshi or Mario?"

"What?” You questioned in utter confusion. “Min, I'm trying to make out with you," you complained with a look of dissatisfaction, Yoongi smiling fondly at the expression. With a sigh, you said, "Yoshi, obviously, what do you think I am, an idiot?" Yoongi laughed fully at the comment, his shoulders shaking as he flashed you that adorable gummy smile you were so obsessed with. "Why?" you asked through a small laugh, "what about you?"

"Honestly, I could not care less," he smiled, now your turn to laugh.

"I love that about you," you told him through your big grin.

"My roommate, Jin, thinks Mario is better," he told you, you raising your eyebrows in response. "I think you should come by the dorm to put him in his place. Maybe meet all the other guys too?"

You smiled widely as you nodded. "I'd love to," you said softly, Yoongi nodding before leaning in to kiss you again. "I mean, for Yoshi's honor," you whispered right before his lips pressed to yours.

"Of course," he giggled against your mouth. Pulling back just slightly, Yoongi stared at you for a moment, his eyes appreciating your every feature slowly, taking his time, as you did the same with him. Wrapping his arms around the back of your neck, he tugged you closer to him to hold you against his body once again. "Jin's a moron but remind me to thank him one of these days," he whispered against your temple.

"I will," you giggled. "But for what?"

"For having his shit together."

[honey-makki]

Firsts

Characters: Tsukishima Kei X Fem!Reader

Summary: Fate works in mysterious ways to bring people who are destined to be together, to actually be together. 

Warnings: Sex!! blow jobs, face riding, virginity loss 

Genre: fluff, smut

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Well this started as a drabble request but here I am a week later with a 5k fic about it. Soft tsukki inbound. I hope you enjoy @salty4tsukki bc I def enjoyed writing this.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being an only child is not a precursor to being lonely. Memories of family game nights, shared dinners and movies watched filled the air of your house letting you know that you were both never alone and, oh, so loved. 

You knew that having as healthy a home environment was unusual and that it was part of the reason that you are so emotionally intelligent. Many of your peers couldn’t stand their parents and found every excuse to avoid being home. Sure, you and your parents had arguments about curfew or the number of texts you sent every month. The last argument happened every time you brought home a grade that was unsatisfactory, which wasn’t often, but consistent enough that it was a recurring problem. 

“I’m just tired of them expecting me to be perfect! It’s unreasonable for them to expect perfect grades, being on a starter for the soccer team, and involved in other clubs! I’m only one person.” You ranted to Tsukki, sulking around his room before plopping on his bed, arms covering your sighing face.  Tsukki was the only person you came to with family problems because you knew he would understand and not push you. The usually sassy boy always softened these days, knowing that this was the one thing that you couldn’t handle being teased about. Today, he looked at you with soft pity, knowing the amount of work you put towards everything just to be told it’s not enough.

“I could tutor you in English if you want? I know we have our usual pre-exam study sessions, but I really don’t mind making them more regular if you think they would help.” Tsukki might listen to you complain but he still isn’t the best at empathy, rather resorting to problem-solving. He showed his care and compassion to you subtly. Offering his solutions in a way you could make them sound like your own, knowing that provided a semblance of comfort. Allowing you into his room whenever you needed to complain and not questioning your feelings. Always offering you a hoodie or jacket when you were worn out from crying, knowing that the warmth would lull you into a much-needed sleep

You knew he cared about you. Yes, sometimes you over exaggerated your feelings to take advantage of that, but only because you wanted his jacket on your body. The thought that it was his arms rather than just a Tsukki scented cloth surrounding you. Only crying a little harder with the hopes he would offer to have a movie night which always meant cuddles. No, you never faked your feelings to him, not wanting to lie to your best friend and consistent childhood companion, you just embellished them.

Relishing in the fact that for maybe, just ten minutes that Tsukki wasn’t just your best friend, that he grew past friends as he aged, and saw you like more, as his other half. The person he wanted to spend not only his childhood years with but also every single one he still had left. 

You aren’t sure when you fell in love with Tsukishima Kei.

It could have been his moment against Shiratorizawa when you saw him truly experience joy for the first time in the sport he spent so much time. It could have been the time he gave you his rain jacket when it was pouring before you walked home, knowing it wouldn’t do much against the downpour, but the barrier being symbolic. It could definitely have been the time you went over to study and you walked in on him singing to himself while studying, the soft tenor notes gracing your ears. You only really remember how his voice made your heart skip a beat, the flush of his ears when he turned around catching your eyes.

All you know is that you were hopelessly in love with the man who had been with you every step, every stumble of your life. The man who towered over you but never made you feel smaller than he, the man that laughed before checking on you when you tripped, but always ensuring you were truly ok. 

Watching him grow into his height and his body gaining muscles during highschool was both a blessing and a curse. Your eyes were drawn to his figure, shoulders hunched over on his desk, deltoids peeking out of the sleeves in a way that made you want more. Yes, you loved looking at him but sometimes it plagued you. 

Eyes scrunched shut and heavy breathing, all you can think about is what Tsukki might look like under those clothes. It was a curse, lewd thoughts of your best friend being the only way you could get off anymore. That didn’t stop you from plunging two fingers in and out for your dripping cunt edging yourself closer to your release. At the precipice, you pull your fingers out and eagerly circle your clit, the other hand moving from gripping the bedsheets to pulling at and groping your nipples. Tsukki’s name leaves your lips like a fervent prayer as you cum to the thought of him. You never felt worse about yourself than you did at this moment, but somehow you found yourself here regularly. 

You didn’t know that at that exact same moment Tsukki was in his room thinking about you. The way your smaller hands would fit around his dick, the hesitation you might experience but be driven forward by lust. The thought of being the first and maybe the only person to touch you always drives him to his release. 

He might have fooled around with some girls before, a handjob here and there, amidst a make-out session, but he could never find it in himself to go further. He couldn’t, no, didn’t want to be with anyone else, because he knew that the whole time he would be thinking about you under him.

As you had aged, sleepovers became less frequent but were something the two of you still cherished and actively made time for. Tonight is one such night, having just finished your final midterms and gorging yourself on celebratory ramen from your favorite shop. Tsukki’s parents were out of town for the week, but were used to your presence in the house and didn’t mind you being over. 

You being there should have been fine, nothing out of the normal but that's not how fate works. 

Once you arrived at his place you both changed into lounge clothes getting ready to binge the latest season of Game of Thrones. You went to the kitchen to grab you both some water, knowing neither of you will want to get up once you start.

Tsukki must have had the same idea because as you rounded the corner of the kitchen, you were met with a brick wall and a frigid wave running through your body. You realized it wasn't through your body when your nipples began to harden, peaking through your now translucent shirt. While you are still shocked at the chill, Tsukki looks down to see what happened. Instead what he sees is you, accidentally exposed, the white shirt clinging to the curve of your body like a second layer of skin.

He knows that if he doesn’t avert his gaze that he won't be able to suppress a rising tent in his pants. Committing the image to memory quickly, he apologizes for being in the way, “Shit Y/N, I’m sorry. Feel free to go grab one of my shirts to change into. I’ll clean the mess up.” With that, he moves towards the kitchen to grab a towel, brushing against your body in the narrow hallway.

You head up to his room and go to his dresser, you’ve watched him put his laundry away before, knowing exactly where he keeps his biggest and most comfortable shirts. You strip off your shirt, skin pebbling at the breeze from his fan. Blushing at the fact you are taking your clothes off in your crush childhood friend room, you strip off your lounge shorts now noticing they also have been soaked.

As you pull his practice jersey on you notice it reaches your midthigh, which causes a brief internal conflict. Should I grab a pair of his shorts even though I know they’ll be too big? This shirt is longer than my shorts were anyways, but it’s not the most decent thing. The deciding factor in opting for no shorts was nothing to do with you, rather with the man waiting patiently downstairs. It had everything to do with the glint of intrigue in Tsukki’s eye you spotted earlier, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, and the burning touch he left on your body as he passed you in the hallway. 

Tsukki was not even thinking about what you would look like in his clothes as he had more urgent problems. His cock was achingly hard in his sweatpants, the gray not doing him any favors of hiding how he felt about seeing your body. He was doing everything he could think of to suppress both the thoughts of you and blood rushing downstairs. 

After quickly cleaning up the spill, he got situated on the couch with a blanket hoping it would help hide his current problem as he got it under control. Tsukki spent the remaining time of your absence struggling to distract himself, reciting poetry meditating, anything to not think about it, think about you, think about the curve of your che- fuck he was failing.

His eyes shot open at your weight landing next to him on the couch. Subtly looking over your form, that he now has burned into the back of his eyelids, seeing you drowning in his clothes, his volleyball clothes. Wait, is she just wearing my shirt? His gaze lingering on the soft expanse of your thighs, knowing that he should be able to see the hem of your shorts with the way you are sitting. The thought of you in your underwear almost makes him moan, his already hard dick twitching with precum budding at the tip.

You shoot him a smile, apologizing for taking so long and say you're ready to watch if he is. After some time has passed, the air is nipping at on your still slightly wet skin, you scoot closer to Tsukki and get under the blanket with him. The slight abrasion from his sweats on your skin sent electricity tingling throughout your body and unknowingly did the same to him. 

Reaching forward to grab a glass of water after a particularly gruesome scene, your phone tumbled out of your lap. Not really thinking you lean forward and grab it, slightly raising your ass into the air to reach the last few inches. You plop back down with a grunt and throw your arms open, hoping Tsukki would know that this is your way of saying you needed to take a break from the show for a bit.

Neither of you expected the moan that escaped his lips as you brushed across his now very obvious erection. Neither of you knew what to do after either, he flushed red with embarrassment and hid his face, you with your arm still where it landed on his thigh, unable to move. “Y/N, can you please move?.” he barely chokes out. The obvious restraint in his voice was a sound you had only previously daydreamed of. 

Driven by lust, or excitement, maybe even fear that another opportunity would arise, you do move, but not in the way he had intended. You get up off the couch and he's sure that you are getting ready to leave, disgusted with him, but instead, you settle in on your knees between his thighs. Doey-eyes looking up through your lashes with hesitant excitement. “Ok, I’ve moved, what next?”

Is the one thing he dreamed about is really happening? The actuality of it seems almost incredulous. “Y/N, stop joking, I’m sorry about this. They just kinda, happen sometimes.” He can’t meet your eye because he’s sure he would cum just from the sight of you between his legs. 

“If you don't want me here Kei, I’ll move, but I’m serious.” As you say his first name, another moan comes from his throat, spurring you to action. Biting your lip, you move the blanket and hesitantly grasp his erection. 

Tsukki is hazy with confusion but simultaneously everything is crystal clear with pleasure, unable to focus on anything due to the duality inside his head. Even if he wanted to tell you to stop, to stop and think, he wouldn’t be able to choke out the words.

He notices you aren’t really moving which is driving him mad until he looks down and sees just how pure you look. “Kei, I don’t-- I don’t really know what to do. Just tell me what you like and I’ll do my best.”

“Princess, are you sure you still want to do this?” as he pulls you up to eye level, cupping your cheeks. Seeing your nod and nervous smile, he leans forward to kiss you. 

The chill that had previously permeated your body is replaced with warmth, the feeling of his soft lips moving in time with yours, his gentle but assertive grip on your back acting as heat sources. It’s a comfortable warmth, an invitation into him.

You plan on taking that invitation as he deepens the kiss, one hand in the hair at his nape, the other returning to palm him through his sweats. As he stops your kiss, holding in a groan you take that opportunity to return to your original position in front of him. Waiting patiently, looking up at him for instruction with an absolutely pornographic gaze. 

Tsukki thought the image of your chest was the best thing he would ever see, but this takes the cake. Your hands playing with the waistband, with slight hesitation before pulling both his bowers and sweats down with his assistance. 

You knew what a dick looked like, but that doesn’t mean you are any less intimidated when one is just a few inches from your face. Long and curved, a prominent vein running up to the head that is flushed red and slick with precum. His hand rests on your head with the other on his thigh. Seeing his excitement on his face gives you enough encouragement to kitten lick his tip two times. “Fuck Y/N, please don’t tease me,” his voice wavering between a moan and a whine, you’ve never heard him sound so dependent, so needy before. 

Knowing that you are the one doing this to him gives you the confidence to start taking his dick in your mouth. You pause at the head, moving your tongue around, unsure what feels good until his grip on your head tightens as you rub against the bottom, just before the shaft. “Fuck pretty girl, please move your head down, please I wan--” A groan cuts him off as you follow his command. Slowly starting to bob along a portion of his length, with increasing speed.

“Spit on your hand and stroke the rest, god your mouth is heavenly” after pulling off to follow his command, you finally notice the familiar Tsukki-induced burning in your stomach, but amplified by a hundred when you see his cock twitch as you spit into your hand. He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you positioned your hand under your mouth, whispering uncharacteristically gentle words of praise.

Soft moans fall out of his mouth as you swirl your tongue around his head on every upward movement. Your hand mimicking the speed of your lips, trying to give him as much pleasure as you can. One particular comment of his shoots straight to your core, “Y/N, I never imagined you would make me feel this good.” The implication of him thinking about this, the same way you have, makes you moan around his dick, which in turn elicits a sharp intake from Tsukki.

His grip has been tightening on your head slowly, but all of a sudden he pulls you off. “Don’t wanna cum in your mouth without asking, just hand me a tissue.”

You never imagined Tsukki making the type of sound he did when you artlessly stuttered out “W-Well you have my permission.” 

Returning your tongue to his tip, which is now angrily red and coated in both spit and precum, it only takes a few seconds before he bucks into your mouth as he orgasms. His cock reaches further than you expected resulting in you choking as he hits the back of your throat, unintentionally intensifying his orgasm.

He pulls you off of him, grimacing at the cold air hitting his spent dick, bending forward to look you in the eye.. “Pretty girl, I’m so sorry for that last bit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you ok?”

The pressure of his thumb wiping off a few spare tears makes you wonder what his touch would feel like on the rest of your body. As your mind delves into lewd thoughts, you shift your thighs looking for some pleasure, and give him an absentminded “It was fine, unexpected but I wanna make you feel good.”

He carefully sits you in his lap and pulls you into a deep kiss, slow but hungry. He moves down your jaw to your neck before whispering “Well, I guess it’s my turn to return the favor huh.” You bite back your moan, but as he harshly sucks a spot at the base of your neck it slips out. “You don’t have to hide your noises, princess, let me know how good everything feels.”

He runs his hands up and down your sides underneath his shirt before they find your chest. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined these.” You tug your shirt off and do the same to him. Both of you are just marveling at the beauty in front of you with lust. 

He makes the first move, gently bringing your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, as his left-hand switches randomly between rubbing along your side and massaging your left boob. The warmth of his tongue flicking against your pebbled bud is miles better than your own fingers, endless breathy moans falling out of your mouth as you find purchase for your hands in his hair. 

You must be unconsciously rutting against him because he stops his ministrations and stills your hips with a harsh grip. “Feeling needy now? Let me take care of you.” Tsukki rolls you off of him and you expect him to get on his knees in front of you, making you clench your knees both out of excitement and embarrassment. 

So when he lays down on the floor in front of you and shoots you a smug smirk, “Come take a seat,” your jaw drops in shock. 

“No, Tsukki, you don't have- What if I don’t taste good, please don’t worry about it-I don't want to suffoc-”  excuses and concerns pour out of your mouth but your body betrays you at the thought of him licking your sex.

“Y/N. Get over here. I want to do this and I’ll ensure you enjoy it.” His tone was commanding enough that you moved from the couch to straddling his head without a thought, losing your panties along the way. Your mind is murky with lust and anticipation, thoughts of how many times you’ve imagined his tongue on your clit being the only thing breaking through the fog. 

His tongue pierces through the haze as he runs the flat of it along your entire soaked core. Your body wants to pull away from the pressure but buck into the pleasure at the same time but Tsukki makes the decision for you, wrapping his arms around your thighs so you are snug against his face. 

He repeats the action, trying to coax a moan out of you, adding a little more force each time. It isn’t until the bridge of his nose brushes your clit that you finally let out the noises you’ve held in. “Kei- hi- fuck- higher,” breathy moans coat your words in lust.

 “Your wish is my command, princess.” His smug tone would have been annoying except for the fact that he was pressing hesitant licks against your clit eventually circling it with the tip of his tongue. You have no control over the whines you are making, only broken up by saying “yes Kei, yes, fuck” and other words of praise

Knowing how it felt when you moaned around his dick, he tries humming with his lips surrounding your clit and if he wasn’t already hard, he sure is now after the way you lewdly moaned his name and fiercely tugged his hair. 

The view of your tits heaving along with your breaths drive him to be a little more aggressive with his tongue, mercilessly switching between toying with your folds to harshly drawing shapes into your clit. 

Your cunt is drowning Tsukki in slick, coating his face and chin and he’s never been happier. Sucking your folds and using his tongue to taste all of you. He can't believe that anything has ever tasted better than you do right now.  

He can tell by the legs squeezing his head, and the shake of your entire body you are close to your orgasm. Wanting to try something new, he slides his tongue into your hole, causing you to grip his blonde locks so hard, you probably pulled some out. 

The wanton moans reverberating through the room are the only encouragement he needs to keep pressing his tongue against your tight walls. Your cunt so desperately wants to be filled its almost sucking his tongue in, but you know that alone won’t be enough to make you cum.

“ ‘m close, fuck. Please my clit, Kei please” The loss of his pressure in your cunt is overridden by the shockwaves of his lips around your clit, paired with him tracing letters and a deep moan from his throat. That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. His moan continues as you ride out your high, hips jerking forward at the intensity.

As he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap, “Obviously I didn’t need instructions on how to make you feel good. I’ve thought about this for years.” You aren’t clear-headed enough to slap him like you usually would. All you can think about is the painful tension already building again in your core and his painfully hard dick pressed into your thigh.

You pull him into a kiss that conveys your unspoken words. Full of need and lust and wanting to make up for all of the time you lost. Your lips meet his harshly, like if you stop that it might disappear, afraid to pull back for air.

As he moves to your neck you instinctively rut your hips against him, looking for some form of release. Growling into your ear, “Oh, so one wasn't good enough for you? You want another orgasm?” 

“Well, It’s obvious you want another one,” matching his smugness with another roll that causes him to groan.

Before you can recognize it, he's flipped you over on your back and is hovering over you, eyes committing every inch of you to memory, drinking in the sight of your body, pebbled nipples, slick coating your thighs, love marks he's left thus far. It’s almost enough to make him go feral. 

Almost. 

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop. I really don’t mind.” The concern in his voice is clearly fighting against the lust, just barely winning over his more carnal desires. His answer comes in the form of your hand grabbing his dick and giving it a few soft, needy strokes.

“Please Tsukki, I need you in me. I’ve thought about this for so long, no way am I stopping” 

“Alright pretty girl,” and with that he returns to your deep kiss, your lips feeling like a home he never knew he left. He brings his hand down to your core, ghosting his fingers on your lips before teasing one finger in slowly. 

You hiss at the pleasure, hands finding stability rooted in his shoulders. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth to help distract you while he rocks it in and out of your pussy. Quickly, he could tell that you were ready for a second and slipped it in, being met with you clawing at his shoulders while letting out a wanton moan.

Tsukki moves to place wet kisses along your neck and down to your chest, sucking every once in a while and then following it with a swipe of his tongue. You miss the pressure on your mouth, but you can feel another orgasm building, and it's getting harder to breathe. 

You genuinely do stop breathing when he takes one nipple in his mouth and uses his free hand to start rubbing circles into your clit. Well, if this is the way I die, I don’t really have any complaints. The coil in your stomach is about to snap and the only warning you can get out is slapping his shoulders.

The wave almost knocks you out, back arching off the floor while also trying to get more from the man between your legs. Inserting a third finger stretched you so good, he watches you try to fuck yourself on his hand through the orgasm, greedily wanting more. 

“You ready, pretty girl? Ready to take my cock?”

“Shit yes, Kei, please fuck me. I’ve dreamed about cumming on your dick, please please--” you are reduced to babbling pleas when he runs his dick along your slit coating himself in your slick. The jolt of pleasure every time his head hits your already over-stimulated bud edges on pain but you don’t want him to stop. 

You see stars and hear symphonies when he thrusts into you. A duet of his staccato grunts and your euphonic moans, accompanied by the fortissimo sounds of your pussy as he slides in. After taking a rest for you to adjust to his girth, his pace starts off slow but gradually increasing as you beg him for more. 

“Fuck, please, fill me up, god I never thought your cock would feel so good, Fuck” 

Your babbling praise is reduced to a high pitched whine when he starts slamming into you harder than before. The heavy slaps of his hips into yours replacing your moans in the melody. You barely process his words as the tip of his cock slams into your cervix with no remorse, over and over and over again. 

“Did I just hear you say you didn’t think my cock would feel good? Do you want to go back to cumming on your fingers to the thought of me or do you want me to continue stretching your tiny little pussy out?” 

Tsukki never minced his words, but the sheer lewdness of them causes heat to rise in your face. “N-no Kei. Please help, shit, me. Wanna cum on your dick so b- so bad.” His answer is to push one of your legs back towards your shoulder, the new position and the curve of his cock has him hitting that spot inside you always struggled to reach. 

Every muscle in your body is tensed up, burning from the desire to cum. Shockwaves of pleasure radiating from your pussy reach the tips of your toes and through every hair on your head. 

Your walls are clenching around him, wanting him deeper, even though there isn’t really any room left for him. Your body is driven by lust and disregards any pain you should be feeling, rather interpreting it as a different octave of pleasure. 

You find your fingers on your chest, groping and tweaking your nipples, knowing that you get even more sensitive when you are ready to orgasm. “Kei, please cum in me, I wanna cum but I wanna, no I need to do it with you,” it sounds more like a moan or a plea than a request, but Tsukki was already struggling to hold back his own orgasm.

He took your lead, moving his mouth down to your chest and rolling your other nipple against his tongue. Simultaneously, he snakes a hand down to your vagina, to the spot you begged him to touch earlier and rubs meticulous circles on your puffy and neglected clit..

Your back arches off the floor at the first touch of your clit, and your cunt clenched around his dick, making it even harder for Tsukki to thrust in and out. Your orgasm is stronger than its ever been, you’re certain you blacked out for a minute, only coming to when you hear a hearty moan from Tsukki and another wave of warmth in your sex, this time coming from him.

His forehead pressed against your chest as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, hand still curling your clit, attempting to extend the euphoria you both feel for as long as he can. Your hands find their way into his hair and you gently tug and scratch his scalp, making him look up at you. 

Your face may be covered in tears, and spit but he’s never looked at you with more adoration. You continue to pull him up to your face, placing sweet kisses all over his face as you both ride out the last waves of your high, his dick still inside of you. Wincing as he pulls out to lay down on the floor, he ends up pulling you into an embrace.

You look over to his content face, illuminated by the television,  eyes closed with a ghost of a smile dancing over his lips before he murmurs, “I never knew Game of Thrones sex scenes were quite so realistic, but I’m not complaining.” 

“God, Tsukki you’re so annoying,” you say trying to shove him off of you with a laugh, but he just holds you tighter. 

“I like it better when you call me Kei.”

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