#I probably left something out but my last braincell is melting

[kaiticn]

we will name this place (1989)

I am painfully lonely. I always kind of have been, too. And I know that. I felt it early and I feel it now. It's always been heavy, and lately, increasingly so.

It's becoming clearer to me now that I came face-to-face with my loneliness in Orillia. No parents, no boyfriend, no real family or friends. Just me. I turned to dating apps for companionship and settled for the kind of attention I knew I didn't need. I can count more boys that I associated with & abandoned within two years than I can the amount of quality, lasting friendships I made.

At some point I was living by myself; quarantined on my own in a four-bedroom house, in a town where not one person would care if I even left the house at all. That can take a toll on someone who's not faring well.

I smoked a lot of a weed. It's a surprise that I'm still an honours student, considering that my braincells probably shouldn't be intact. I smoked until my anxiety went away and I was content with loneliness; until darkness became comfort and quiet melted into solitude. That was the only way that I could enjoy myself, because in reality, I don't. I can't? Perhaps, even, I'm unwilling to try.

I only liked myself when I was high. I think that's something that has taken me a while to admit, and something that will take even longer for me to speak aloud. When I'm high, I'm free. And fluid. And soft. And emotional. And contemplative. And inspired. And accepting. And open and real and tethered. Being high & alone makes me feel a kind of concreteness of self that I don't feel on a regular basis.

Most days, I feel detached & scattered. And anxious. And fearful. And depressed. And empty. And so outside of myself that I can't always tell from what perspective I am looking at the world. That's not how I want to be, and I've embarked on a path for the last three years to acknowledge & heal & grow away from these feelings and I can't. They are carried from my youth and as an adult, they haunt me during already trying times.

I don't know how to make friends.

--

I write this from an empty study space at York University. It's only a little funny, actually, once I began writing about loneliness that I realized every stranger that once shared the space with me had left.

No one in my life understands this feeling that I have right now. Not a single person. I stay isolated in my room at yet another house full of strangers. We don't talk.

I wake up, I get dressed, and I walk to work on my own. The mornings are quiet. I don't speak.

Work is one of the only places where I am starting to feel like myself. As a supervisor, SS has been good company. However our relationship is conditional to only exist within the boundaries of our shared place of employment.

Sometimes after my shift I'll walk to my classes, also alone. I am five months into school and I cannot say that I have connected with a single peer well enough to call them my friend and feel good about it. I seldom talk to people about anything other than school. And small talk. And "man it's cold out". And "do you know when the test marks are up". And "I have so much reading to do". And "see you later". "See you tomorrow". "I don't think it would make much a difference if I saw you tomorrow or ever again, for either of us".

This kind of thing makes me feel cold. Like a cynic. Like a bitch. I don't like that word. But regardless, it reigns true.

We part ways. I walk through Central Square alone. And Ross alone. And Vari Hall alone. And the outdoor corridor alone. And then The north parking lot alone. And by that point, I pass the final emergency post on the outskirts of campus, always hoping that nothing actually happened to me between there and home, because I'm by myself.

Then I'm in my room again. And I spend the rest of the evening on my own. Lethargic. Tired. Voiceless. If I don't nap, I'm streaming TV. And if I'm not streaming TV then I don't know what I'm doing, but it's never school work. It's usually compulsively cleaning my room. Or folding my clothes. Or organizing my drawers. Or biting my nails or tearing at my skin again. And again. And again. Or sitting on the floor or laying on the bed and not sleeping, but just staring at the wall and drawing upon memories or completely fabricating conversations because I'm tired of replaying my own lived experiences. Then I fall asleep and sometimes I don't have a chance to vocalize "goodnight" to anyone.

I have Maurice. I know this. But he's only ever been surrounded by people his entire life. A surplus of constant engagement. That can be exhausting in itself, I don't doubt it. But I can't convey to him how draining my own lifestyle is. He encourages me to find energy and motivation and initiative and discipline but when I'm on my own for so long, it feels impossible to be the reminder to perform and the performer at the same time.

I've started talking to myself. When I walk I just start naming the things I see until it turns into some kind of diluted narration of my surroundings.

"Stairs"

"Student Centre"

"Jacket"

"White"

"Off-white?"

"White"

"Mask"

"Hat"

"Hat"

"Mask"

"Hat"

"Head covering"

"Head covering"

"All hats are head coverings"

"Some without religious connotations"

And I go on.

I don't know what my goal is in writing this. Right now I feel something tight within my chest, although this feeling lingers. I need an outlet. I feel like screaming. I don't want to scream I just want to talk to someone, and not text them, but talk. I want to use my voice. I want to be with people and laugh hard and yell and sing. I miss singing but I don't have where to do it in private anymore.

Quiet is overwhelming me. I'm going to go sit outside.

[carnistcervine]

Haunting AU

Hey everyone, it’s ya gurl Carnist with another AU that she came up with instead of sleeping.

*The Avatar is an ancient spirit amalgamate that is reborn into a new mortal body every time it's current one dies.

*However, since the attack on the Air Temples 100 years ago, no one has encountered any trace of the legendary being.

*It is with this knowledge that Ozai banishes his gravely injured son, sending him on a quest to find the Avatar.

*So, a freshly burned Zuko is send off with his uncle and a motley crew with a half-trained medic.

*At first Zuko's fever fueled nightmares are centered purely around the agni kai and his father burning his face away.

*However, it's not too long before the dreams evolve. The dark figure that looms over Zuko changes in shape, instead of burning him, it gently cups his chin.

*The figure is not Ozai, no, it looks barely anything like his father, it's hair is much too white, and the beard is too large.

*It is gentle with him, but he finds himself afraid anyway. Zuko eventually finds the strength to push away from the figure and run, but he finds that he's surrounded by familiar, yet unfamiliar figures.

*They loom around him, closing in on him, chanting his name.

*Thankfully when he wakes up, he's safely by his Uncle's side.

*By what is considered a miracle of Agni himself, Zuko recovers from his injury. The only reminder being the scar that now mars his face.

*Once he's well enough to stand, he demands to search the air temples.

*Iroh tries to get him to rest, as the old man knows Zuko will never find the Avatar, and needs this boy to take this time to rest and recover. But Zuko is too stubborn to listen. So Iroh assists the boy in getting around until he's well enough to walk on his own again.

*There is a heaviness in the temples that Zuko cannot ignore.

*He tries to anyway, leaving as soon as he's able to see the Avatar isn't around.

*He pushes himself to get back to firebending as soon as possible.

*Much to his dismay, he's developed pyrophobia. His terror over his own element drives him up a wall. Iroh is patient with him, but Zuko can't stand his lack of progress and nearly re-traumatizes himself trying to force himself to get over it.

*The Iron Slug roams from place to place as Zuko runs his crew(and himself) ragged tracking down every hint of the Avatar.

*He pours over any information on the Avatar or Air Nomads to find any info he use to locate the Avatar.

*He's absolutely obsessed determined.

*It's been three years, his crew have grown resentful of him, and his Uncle just keeps trying his best in the hopes that he can help his nephew.

*One fateful day, he spies a strange light while sailing through the south.

*"It must be the Avatar." He tells himself.

*His Uncle however, believes it to be nothing more than the southern lights and encourages him to get some rest, maybe drink some calming tea.

*Zuko persists and tracks the lights down to a small Water Tribe village.

*The village is nothing more than women and young children.

*Well, there are two slightly notable exceptions, a teenage boy and girl who hold the most vicious, venomous gaze towards Zuko.

*He simply brushes them off as he talks to the village's leader.

*The woman holds a firm glare at him, telling him that his people have already taken the last of the waterbenders, that their village has /nothing/ left.

*Zuko remarks that he's not interested in waterbenders, or warriors, or anything of the like. He's looking for the Avatar or information on the Avatar.

*The woman makes an odd expression, and tells him that the Avatar has been gone for a hundred years.

*Zuko knows that the woman is hiding something and threatens her at flamepoint, when suddenly his target comes out of hiding.

*A small boy, eyes burning with the purest light comes in from seemingly out of nowhere.

*The Avatar offers himself up if Zuko leaves the village alone.

*Zuko accepts these terms.

*He doesn't see the strange, pitying looks the villagers give him as he leaves.

*Zuko tells his men to lock up the Avatar, and they just look at each other, only opting to move when he yells at them to quit dawdling.

*Uncle looks very concerned and asks Zuko if he's feeling alright, Zuko says that his journey is finally over and he can finally go home, he's never been better.

*Iroh looks even more concerned at this, but Zuko brushes him off to go to his room.

*He's not surprised when he finds the Avatar sitting on his bed, head tilted like a curious puppy.

*Zuko's not really surprised that the Avatar has essentially been allowed to roam loose on his ship, his crew are a bunch of useless good-for-nothings and he has to do /everything/.

*The Avatar doesn't even so much as flinch as he approaches him, but the second he's on the stupid arrow head, he's all the way across the room.

*Like he teleported or something.

*Zuko pinches his nose. He should have known that catching and containing a spirit would be hard.

*The Avatar offers a friendly smile and calls himself Aang, he extends an offer of friendship to Zuko, but Zuko turns the spirit down.

*Aang frowns, glumly saying that he won't play along with Zuko's game if he doesn't wanna be friends.

*Zuko angrily yells that none of this is a game, when two new voices catch his attention.

*It's the Water Tribe teens from before.

*They're pretty pissed at him, ranting at him about how terrible he and his country are.

*Zuko yells and argues back until he's as blue in the face as their clothes.

*Eventually, he just yells at them to fuck off, and just like that, they're gone.

-Now for the other side of things-

*Iroh's already tired when Zuko goes on an impassioned rant about the southern lights. Like sure, they're very beautiful, but they've been down this road before.

*The Avatar is GONE. If they go and check out the lights, they won't find anything.

*They end up coming upon a tiny village, a remnant of the once might SWT. Iroh can barely bring himself to look at the place, seeing what his country has done to these innocent people hurts him deeply. But he needs to keep an eye on Zuko and make sure he doesn't get himself hurt.

*Iroh notes that the only people in the village are grown women and small children, and no one else.

*Iroh and the crew are very surprised at how easily Zuko agrees to leave the village.

*That surprise turns to muted horror when Zuko tells his crew to take the Avatar below deck.

*They want to ask Zuko exactly who he's referring to, as no one was taken aboard the ship, but Zuko is quick to get angry and yells at his crew to get on it.

*Not looking to get yelled at some more by the clearly agitated Zuko, the crew disappear below deck. They opt to gossip in the engine room like they usually do when Zuko is behaving strangely.

*Iroh tries to ask his nephew if he's feeling alright. He worries that some of their food might have gone bad or that the boy had caught something.

*Before Iroh can press further, or check for fever, Zuko disappears below deck to go to his room. He specifically requests that no one disturb him.

*Iroh hopes that Zuko is going to finally lie down and get some rest. He clearly needs it.

*The crew have grown used to tuning out Zuko's yelling, so they don't bat an eye at the shouting match coming from his quarters.

-Basically, Zuko is being haunted/possessed. The Avatar is pretty much a person that's possessed by a spirit amalgamate. Zuko is the Avatar.

*Aang is one of Zuko's past lives that's reaching out to him.

*Katara and Sokka are ghosts from the SWT that came to torment Zuko because they’re mad about being dead.

*Aang gets Katara and Sokka to slowly mellow out and chill a bit, and be a bit nicer to Zuko.

*Aang also convinces Zuko to go to all sorts of places in an effort to get him to have fun.

*He convinces him to visit Kyoshi, where Zuko is assaulted by the ghosts of the Kyoshi Warriors.

*When he inevitably gets captured by the locals after getting beaten and tied up by ghosts, Iroh has to come in and rescue his nephew.

*In fact, quite a few scenarios end up like this, where Aang somehow convinces Zuko to do something or go somewhere and Zuko ends up knee deep in ghost shenanigans, meanwhile Iroh's blood pressure could kill a komodorhino.

*Zuko has always been a bit off, but lately his strange behavior has taken a frightening turn. As no one else can see the ghosts(except Iroh, on few occasions) the crew go from near mutinous to deeply worried over Zuko and his mental state.

*Once they learn the truth of his scar, they want to go and kill Ozai themselves.

*A few times the Iroh Slug will dock at a port and a mysterious entity will be spotted. At first it's assumed to be a glow-eyed jiang-shi, only to be later identified as the lost Avatar.

*During these times, Zuko is overtaken by the Avatar Spirit and takes on one of his past live's appearances. Usually Aang's. He'll move in an unnatural manor, like something that isn't used to controlling a human body, or some limp, corpse being.

*It's not until Iroh realizes that he hears other distinct voices coming from Zuko's room, with no evidence of anyone coming in or out, that his nephew is being haunted.

*Slowly but surely, Aang drags Zuko northward so that they can "teach Katara waterbending". *wink wonk*

*It's only after they end up at the North Pole, fighting off waterbenders that Zuko goes into the Avatar state in front of his crew and they realize that /he's/ the Avatar.

*But the NWT also know that Zuko is the Avatar and they're like: 👀 so Zuko's crew is gonna have hell keeping custody of him.

*Especially when the ghosts keep trying to drag him away too.

*Speaking of ghosts, Yue is fairly ghost-like in appearance, with her pale brown skin, supernatural blue eyes, and snow white hair, but very decidedly physical and alive.

*But she is haunted/possessed by the Tui, and can empathize with Zuko on the being harassed by ghosts or possessing spirits.

*I'm still deciding on whether Toph should be a ghost or someone pretending to be a ghost.

*On the one hand: Ghost!Toph who kicks just as much ass and causes even more trouble than normal Toph, and haunted the shit out of the underground earthbending ring before she decided that harassing Zuko would be more fun. On the other: Little blind girl who dresses up as a spooky spirit and beats everyone's ass teaming up with a ex-prince who's possessed by an evergrowing, all powerful spirit amalgamation and constantly haunted by a pair of Water Tribe ghosts.

*It does eventually get back to Hakoda that the spirits of his children are haunting the Avatar and he just:  👁👄👁

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.  

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

[suncakie]

["Ghosts don't bleed"]

w/ Hinata Shoyo Ft. Karasuno Vball club

Day one

Theme. Sharing a Braincell

31 Days of Haikyuu Masterlist. [🏐]

Warnings. Chaos(Its supposed to be scary but i made it entertaining instead), mentions of blood, loss of braincells

Notes. To my friend who thought this was a good topic, i hope your pillow is warm tonight:D (this took me 3 different situations, 4 different fanfics & a month to do so pls enjoy this thing)

the team decided to go to a haunted house together for Halloween.

With you being a plus one.

And so the haunted trip begins!

The fifteen of you decided to split up into three since the fifteen of you can't go to the entertainment house at the same time

and with your luck, you were grouped up with Yachi & Hinata

Hooray~

The problem is, the three of you are easily scared of random sh!t and won't probably last a second in the house.

A bundle of horrific screams and the rush of multiple footsteps echoed through the haunted house the three of you soloed on.

"Who tf would hire a real ghost for a haunted house?! That's just traumatizing!"

A little earlier that day, the three of you were just complimenting on how the interior of the haunted house was so realistic, jumping every now and then whenever something popped out from the walls or floors.

"Hey, Yachi, the candle over there looks like kags a bit don't ya think?" You commented as you tugged on Yachi's sleaves, Hinata's also followed his gaze towards what you were pointing at, out of curiosity.

"It does look like kageyama!" Hinata beamed as he neared the lit-up candle, both you and Yachi following suit.

"The one who made this candle is probably a fan of kageyama, it looks so well carved" Yachi commented as she took out her phone, taking a snap of the candle to show the others later.

"Kageyama is scary, so this belongs here!" Hinata hummed at the thought eyes closed and hands on his chin.

You went closer to the candle, hands making their way to the 'hair' that can be identified as melting wax.

"Do you think we can steal- arghhhh! Hot hot!" You exclaimed as you retracted your hand with a hiss "I forgot it was a candle lol"

Yachi swatted your hand that clutched the burn as she inspected it "are you ok?! Does it hurt??"

"I'm fine Yachi, don't worry!" You reassured as you patted her shoulder.

"L/n! Yachi! There's a ghost!" Hinata screamed in the distance as the both of you forgot about the burning incident.

"What do you mean Hinata? There's no such thing as ghosts" Yachi commented as she stepped in the direction of Hinata's voice.

Suddenly, the candles around you dimmed as the only source of light left was the opened window above, the moonlight shining through it.

You suddenly felt an uneasy chill run up your spine, with your hand unconsciously tugging on Yachi's sleaves as you decreased the distance between the two of you.

"What happened?"

You heard Yachi gulp but decided to ignore it as her shaky voice tried, keyword 'tried' to reassure you "I think it's the wind! It's getting pretty windy since winter is nearing!"

"L/n! Yachi! There you are!" A voice screamed as the both of you jumped from the sudden intrusion.

"Oh my gosh! Hinata! Your gonna give me a heart attack!" You squealed as you squeezed your panicking heart, trying your best to calm it down.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it at all" he bowed, well you think he did because the moonlight is starting to get dimmer as the clouds began to block their way.

"It's fine, just don't do it again please??" You heard Yachi say as you saw something move in the distance.

Tugging both of their sleeves you whispered and pointed in the direction of the weird movement "did any of you see that?"

"Huh? Saw what?"

"A white thing walked past there! I thought the three of us are the only people here?!" Hugging both their arms you muttered out "if that's the demon under my bed, I'm offering the both of you for dinner!"

Hinata grunted and detached his arm from your hold while Yachi squeezed the life out of your arm "Hey that was uncalled for!"

"Please don't sacrifice me! I don't want to be food" Yachi squeaked as she cuddled up in your own arm.

You grumbled "It's a life and death situation, what do you think ill do? 'Please kill me instead, I don't want my friends to die!' I'm not some type of-"

"L/n.." Hinata Tugged on your sleeve, trying to warn you about something.

Swatting his hand away you continued "No! You need to hear this, I am not the main character of a book to just risk my life to-"

"L/n!"

"-just save random people out of nowhere! I'm not spider man or anything!"

"L/N Y/N! LOOK BEHIND YOU!" Hinata screamed and turned you 90 degrees, detaching Yachi that held tightly on your arms.

"What is it now- EEK! GHOST!" cue the heavenly echoed punch that rang through the whole house as you dragged the both of them to somewhere with light.

As you found a place that is heavily lit up with candles and lamps, the three of you took a breather as you spoke up

"Who tf would hire a real ghost for a haunted house?! That's just traumatizing!" You commented as Yachi held up one finger, signaling you to wait a moment before she responded.

"I'm pretty sure that's not a ghost"

Hinata panicked as he shook Yachi by her shoulders "what do you mean?! It was floating! How are you so calm about it?!"

Yachi signaled Hinata to stop shaking her as she inhaled and informed the two of you of an obvious answer "Ghosts don't bleed"

She pointed out as she raised your hand that held a stain of blood while she added to her conclusion "and you can't touch ghosts, i heard a thump after you punched the guy"

You rose a hand to your mouth, inhaling while your teeth clamped together "oop, my bad"

Bonus:

"I am never going to a haunted house again"

"You better keep your word, you could of killed somebody there!" Yachi commented as the three of you finally exited the haunted house.

Throughout the last bits of the trip, Yachi had to restrain both you and Hinata from hurting any more of the co-workers.

Damn, I'm 100% sure those workers will never be participating in a haunted house attraction ever again.

You glanced around, trying to find the others to only see the third years sitting by the bench, ice pack in hand and some tissues for a bruised Daichi.

"Please remind me to never bring those three in a haunted house ever again" Daichi muttered as he sighed, both Suga and Asahi nervously chuckling as a response.

"Omg Daichi! Who hurt you?!" You concernedly screamed as you examined the bruise forming on his left eye.

Daichi nervously chuckled and waved the three of you away, pointing at tsukishima, kageyama, and yamaguchi, who us not that far away, and told the three of you to join them on whatever they were doing.

Yachi waved a concerning goodbye and ran towards the other first years, screaming about not waiting for her.

Kiyoko, just in time came in and commented on Daichi's problem "did Y/n give you that black eye or Hinata did?"

"AwahHH! Shimuzu please make us aware of your presence before speaking up" Asahi requested as he patted some ice on a burn he got from Hinata throwing a candle at him

"It's from L/n, the girl probably went to karate class or something because she also made my nose bleed even if she attacked my eye" Daichi sighed and double-checked if blood is still oozing out from his nose.

"And for the record, Hinata's punches are powerful, I think my spine is broken" Suga sighed and cracked his back with a sigh "We're never hosting a haunted house ever again"

"Advice taken"

...

"Ding!"

"Wait! I forgot how to punch! Can i try again?!"

In the distance, the four saw the first years playing some type of game where you need to punch a bag to see how powerful your punch is to win a prize, stating how you're the one complaining, they looked ahead to see your complaining score.

"140 isn't too bad, you could get a mini keychain plush with it" Suga hummed as he stared at you, with you giving more yen to the worker.

"Ding!"

"WAH! YES! YOUR COMING WITH MAMA" you celebrated as you held on a gigantic baby crow plush waving its wings towards the third year's.

Waving back nervously Daichi muttered out to the trio beside him "I'm glad L/n is not the one who punched my nose"

"She still punched your eye"

"It's not that powerful okay?! If she did so ill not have an eye right now" Daichi scoffed and crossed his arms the trio laughing at his defensive side.

Day 1

@suncakie 31 days of Haikyuu 2020

[aomine-ryo]

Hi! I hope you're having a nice day. I don't know if you still take requests or not but if you are, then can you do a part 2 for the head canons of Midorima, Kiss and Aomine assuming that their so is in third year but with the rest of the GOM, Kuroko, and Kagami?

Sorry it took so long to get to this request!! I hope you enjoy! xx

Headcanons: Kuroko, Kagami, Murasakibara and Akashi with an s/o that they thought was older

Kuroko

He’s a generally very observant person, but you acted so much older that his intuition convinced him that you were a third year at least

He absolutely adored how independent and mature you were as well

So when you two began dating, he didn’t really question your age

Furthermore, he’s a very polite boy so he knew that asking for your age would seem rude

The two of you went to different schools so that’s why it took him some time to figure out that you were a first year like he was

Your school was right next to Seirin so he’d often come pick you up afterwards so you could walk home together

One day, you were in a bit of a frenzy because you realised that you’d left an important notebook in your classroom

So Kuroko offered to hold your things for you while he waited outside

While he was waiting, he spotted your student ID card hanging from your bag

Curious to see a cute picture of you, he pulled it closer to him

Of course, you looked as beautiful as ever to him

But what really caught his eye was the detail about your class

“I’m back,” you panted after having jogged all the way back because you didn’t want to keep him waiting

“Oh Y/N, did you get your book?” he asked you and you nodded, waving it in the air for him to see

He handed you your things back and the two of you began to walk

“I didn’t know you were a first year, Y/N,” he said, his usually expressionless face showing a tint of confusion and surprise

“You didn’t? What did you think I was?” you questioned

“I thought you were a third year,” he said simply

“You did? Do I really look that old to you?” you asked, pretending to sound hurt even though you really didn’t care

“No no, it’s just, you’re just very independent and cool, I thought you’d be older,” he said quickly

“Well I’m flattered. Unless you’re disappointed now? Are you not interested anymore because I’m your age?”

Kuroko took your hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze, “Don’t be silly. I like you for you, not your age.”

As cheesy as it was, you felt your heart melt

It was weird how he always knew exactly what to say

You didn’t really bring it up after that because the relationship was fairly new and you were still learning more about each other

It didn’t change the fact that you definitely acted older than he was at times

And it often led to it slipping his mind every now and then

Kagami

He has like one working braincell so it’s a miracle that he realised at all

The two of you went to the same school, but you were in different classes so since he didn’t see you around much, he assumed you were older

He’d often see you around the school courtyard during recess and he thought you were quite hot

It took him a bit of time, but he finally mustered the courage to ask you out

The only thing he knew about you was your name because Kuroko told him

So he walked up to you when you were wandering around alone

Despite looking quite confident, he was incredibly nervous on the inside

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?” he asked

“Yeah, I am. Um, aren’t you Kagami, from the basketball team?” you said, knowing full well who he was because you’d gone to a few of the games and found him incredibly attractive

“Yep, Kagami Taiga,” he nodded affirmatively, “I was wondering whether you’d like to hang out with me some time.”

He wasn’t really expecting you to say yes to be honest, as he thought about why a third year would want to go out with a younger boy

“Like a date?” you asked, your straightforwardness only convincing Kagami that you were older even more

“Uh y-yeah,” he said, beginning to get a bit flustered because he was expecting you to just laugh in his face

“Sure, that sounds fun,” you nodded, acting cool on the outside though you were fangirling on the inside

“Wait really?” he said, eyes widening as he realised that you’d actually agreed

You laughed and nodded, before exchanging numbers

The two of you ended up dating for some time after that, all while Kagami still believed that you were older than he was

Sure he’d walk you to and from school, but you usually waited for him outside the gate so he never found out what class you were in

He didn’t even ask because he was just so excited to be dating someone older

Plus he found you so hot that any relatively coherent thought would be thrown out the window whenever you were together

A few weeks into dating you, the two of you had already gotten pretty intimate, and you seemed so experienced with everything you did

It was hard for him to keep his hands off of you

He’d also be really proud about dating you that he’d tell almost everyone he knew

One day, you had a project and you needed to carry a lot of stuff to your classroom

So being the gentleman he is, he offered to carry it for you

You began heading towards your classroom which was a few rooms down the hall from his one, but he just stopped and looked at you with a confused expression

“Y/N, where are you going? Aren’t the third year classrooms in the floor above?” he asked you

“Yeah, but my class is here,” you said, pointing at your first year classroom

“You’re a first year?” he asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor

“Yeah, what did you think? We’re the same age,” you said, still trying to make sense of what he was getting at

“Oh god,” he said, his cheeks turning as red as his hair, “I thought you were a third year,” he mumbled

You began to laugh at the sound of those words, “A third year? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know... you just seemed more mature and sexy,” he said, mumbling that last word as his eyes became fixated on the ground

“Taiga, we’ve literally studied together, how did you not realise we were in the same year?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were just helping me!” he groaned, wanting to die of embarrassment at this point. “Can we please move on?”

You agreed to move on at that moment, but you kept bringing it up for the rest of the day and he just learned to take it

When he brought it up to Kuroko, he just stared at Kagami with disappointment

“Kagami-kun, you dated her for almost a month, how did you not know?”

“Just shut up.”

Murasakibara

He met you at this cafe that he liked to frequent

You worked there part time so you were very familiar with him (how could anyone really forget the 2 metre tall, purple-haired boy that orders an ungodly amount of pastries every time)

He never really thinks about other people, but since he saw you quite often he began to wonder what you were like

He thought that you were very hot— like very hot

So he naturally began to assume that you were older

“There’s no way someone my age could be that hot”

He was quite nervous when he finally decided to ask you out one day because if you said no, he’d probably have to find a new cafe to go to to avoid the awkwardness

And he really liked his cafe

After a few stutters and nervous laughter, you’d agreed to go on a date with him and he was elated

The fact that he thought you were older didn’t really have an effect on how he behaved around you

Sure, he was nervous at first because he wanted to impress you

But as time went on, like most of Murasakibara’s other peers, you ended up having to care for him a lot

Which only drove him to believe that you were older even more

Plus the way your lips moved whenever he kissed you seemed so experienced

However, he did question why someone as mature as you were would entertain his childish antics, but he didn’t think too much of it

And to be honest, he wouldn’t have ever found out that you were the same age as he was until he was zoning in and out of a conversation between you and Himuro

For some reason, Himuro was aware of your actual age so he was just normally talking about the differences between the syllabus in your school and Yosen

“Oh I don’t think we’ve gotten to that chapter yet,” you said when he was complaining about the difficulty of a particular topic

“Huh? Shouldn’t you have finished it two years ago?” Murasakibara chimed in

“What? Why would I have done that?” you asked as a confused expression overtook yours and Himuro’s faces

“Because it’s a first year topic, isn’t it?” Murasakibara said, popping a potato chip into his mouth

“Yeah... and I’m still in first year,” you said slowly, failing to understand why he’d say something like that

He nearly choked on his potato chip

“You’re in first year?” He said, surprise filled in his usually unbothered tone

“Yeah, why do you sound so surprised?” you replied

“I thought you were a third year,” he said, bewildered as he turned to Himuro, “Muro-chin, did you know this?”

“Yeah I did. Haven’t you been dating her for like, three months now?” Himuro questioned as you brought a palm to your face in disbelief

“It’s been four months actually, Atsushi,” you sighed, “why’d you think I was a third year? Do I look that much older?”

“You’re just too hot to be a first year okay,” he groaned, munching on his chips in frustration

“Aw really?” you smiled, looking up at his flushed face

“Yeah,” he murmured

“In that case, I’ll let it slide,” you said sweetly as you placed a kiss on his cheek, making a small smile appear on his lips

However, Himuro didn’t miss the opportunity to bring it up to annoy him every now and then

Akashi

He’s such a smartass that I feel like it’s nearly impossible that he wouldn’t know that you’re not a third year upon meeting you

However, when he met you, there was a brief moment where he thought that you were older

His team was playing a practice match against your school and you were the team manager

The way you carried yourself and the way that you seemed rather mature compared to the people around you, led him to consider the possibility that you were older than he was

Unlike everyone else, he’d probably figure out your actual age upon first meeting you

Once the match was over, he spotted you with your hands full of dirty towels so he decided to help because he’s a gentleman like that

“Hey, let me get some of that for you,” he said, taking half the pile into his arms

You gave him a grateful smile, surprised that he was helping you when no one from your own team offered to help

“Thank you, um, Akashi Seijuro, right?” you said, even though you were sure that it was his name

“Yes, you can call me Sei, if you like.”

Talk about straightforward geez

“Nice to meet you Sei,” you said, feeling slightly odd referring to someone so intimidating with such a casual name, “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he smiled, dumping the towels in the same basket you did. “So, how long have you been managing?”

“Just a few months, I’m still a first year after all,” you replied

He was a bit surprised, because he found you much more attractive than other girls your age

Furthermore, you had this sultry, independent reeled him in and made him think that you were older

He didn’t show any of this surprise on his face though

In fact, he looked like he never even had a doubt in the first place

And to be honest, with his ego, he’d never admit that he was wrong anyways

The two of you continued chatting for a few more minutes until Akashi was called by his coach to leave

Of course, there was no way he was leaving without getting your number and asking you out first

So the two of you eventually ended up dating

And whilst he was aware that you were the same age as he was for the most part, sometimes it would slip his mind

Especially when things got heated between you two, he would sometimes pretend like you were older— because you certainly looked and moved around like you were

[yamalegacy]

um after you're done being flooded with asks maybe write a short oneshot where s/o is studying with fuyumi but it just ends up to be a cuddling and some kissing session?idk i just want some soft todoroki's (this is the same anon who requested the rei todoroki one)

SOFT FUYUMI HELLO YES PLEASE! i love my soft todoroki women! they deserve all the love and appreciation in the world and i will give it to them! thanks for requesting the best todorokis 💛

pairing: todoroki fuyumi x gn!reader

cw: none? it's just soft. physical affection and kisses.

Studying sessions with Fuyumi have always been nice; she's a comforting and surprisingly warm presence in spite of her ice Quirk. She knows how to motivate you and keep you focused on your books and notes, at least most of the time (she's been having a harder time with that since you started dating because you now have no excuse not to get distracted by how pretty she is).

But even in the comfort of your home, with your girlfriend by your side, studying is a tedious task and you hate it with a burning passion. All the word you read are starting to make less and less sense with every passing second.

"This is torture," you mumble under you breath. "I give up!" you add, all too dramatically sighing and dropping your head down on the coffee table.

Fuyumi lets out a surprising little yelp and you feel one of her hands in your hair. "Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself!"

"I don't have braincells left to lose."

She chuckles at your words, and all you can do is sigh as she gently pets your hair. You turn your head so you can look at her, your cheek pressed uncomfortably against the cold surface of the table, though you can't bring yourself to care about that.

Her fingers in your hair are soft and delicate, just like most things about Fuyumi. It's something that you love about her, the softness there is in all things she does.

"How about I go make us some tea while you finish that page and then we can take a break together?"

Here it is again, that softness that seems to characterize her — that softness that makes you melt. You hum and nod lazily, straightening your back so you can focus on your reading again, but the second you look at the book open on the table, you can't help but whine at the sight.

You stare at your girlfriend as she stands up and pout when she glances at you. The small smile tugging at her lips shows that she's trying to hide how amused she is by your miserable state.

"Can I have a kiss first? For motivation?"

Fuyumi leans down, and you close your eyes, but her lips find your forehead rather than your mouth, so you give her a frown when she pulls back.

"That's not what I meant," you protest, pouting.

She laughs and gives the top of your head a pat. "Finish your page and I'll give you a proper kiss."

"Yes, boss!"

It's hard to focus again, especially with the promise of the affection that you crave. Her kisses are the most gentle, sweetest ever, and they always make you feel better, she always makes you feel better. How are you supposed to concentrate on boring words when all you can think about is your girlfriend, her pretty lips against your own?

You sigh, stretch your arms above your head and pinch your cheeks to keep yourself awake, to chase away the distracting thoughts. It's just one page. The last page of that cursed chapter. You can do this!

You can do this, but it takes you a lot longer than it should have. The tea is done and served when you finally finish going over that damn last page. You lean against Fuyumi as soon as your book is closed and your notes put away, sighing at the delicate floral smell of her perfume.

"Enjoy the tea while it's still warm," she says, pressing a kissing into your hair, an arm wrapped around you to keep you close, even as you reach for your mug.

"Have I ever told you that you're the best girlfriend ever?"

"Only almost everyday."

And each time, you meant it.

You take a few sips of your tea before putting your mug back down on the table, and rest your chin on your girlfriend's shoulder.

"Can I have my kiss now?"

When she starts moving, you straighten your back and move your chin away from her shoulder. The moment she is facing you, you're leaning close again and your lips are on hers; you don't try to deepen the kiss, preferring to keep it as soft and gentle as Fuyumi is.

You can feel her smile against your mouth when you wrap an arm around her waist.

"I love you," you whisper, and you kiss her again.

"I love you too."

The little gasp she lets out as you push her down onto the floor is adorable, and you can't help but laugh.

"This is supposed to be a break from studying," she reprimands, though her tone isn't all that convincing.

Your fingers find her side, where you know she is ticklish, slipping under her shirt and she squirms under the touch.

"We are taking a break," you argue, kissing her lips again as a way to shut her up before she can try to protest, "until tomorrow, that is."

She laughs at that, apparently too amused to try and push you away or try to convince you to get back to studying. It's not the first time you do something like that, she probably knows that it'd be useless anyway.

You peck her lips one last time before shifting down her body just enough to rest your head on her chest. Perfectly comfortable. One of her hands finds its way to your head, playing with a few strands of hair.

"So, this is a cuddle session now, not a studying session?"

"Yup! Which is exactly why we study at my place and not at your father's. I want to enjoy my cuddle sessions in peace!"

She chuckles.

"You're terrible, you know that?"

"You love that about me. I mean, I'm a better cuddling partner than studying partner! And I'm a great kisser."

Fuyumi hums, "yes, you are. And I love you the way you are, cuddle monster."

[ddaehyeon]

kalopsia; s. wb + reader + k. ty

pairing: seo woobin + reader + kim taeyoung

genre: angst, fluff, hanahaki au

word count: 10.4k

warnings: blood, hospital visit, light cursing, mentions of sickness, death, anxiety, and alcohol/drinking

summary: in each passing day that you grew fonder of taeyoung, more petals would come out of your lips. your heart, a garden of the most beautiful flowers, only that it was also a reminder of your unrequited love. and with the withering petals, woobin can't bear to simply watch.

-- video teaser; story playlist; masterlist; taglist form 🥀

a/n: my longest fic so far! aaaa this is for a fic exchange with the amazing @arieswonjin​��. ilysm <3 i enjoyed writing this a lot and i hope we can do more exchanges in the future! also, special thanks to @starrycrvty​​ who helped me with the editing process and cheered me up while i was losing a braincell in the development of the scenes. you’re awesome and ily. <3

hope you will enjoy this ride. send me feedback through my ask/reblogs! i’ll appreciate it a lot :>

taglist: @bunnyseongmin​​

[ will edit this again in the future; ]

regardless of how the day was already ending, flowers seemed to not lose their vibrancy. whenever a gust of air blew by, it would dance along with the wind’s melody. you took a breath, the floral scent easing your body which was probably hugged with nothing but fatigue out of the ruthless writing sessions you gave yourself for hours.

a mélange of colors in the sky; the red hue engulfing the orange tint. it was funny how despite that war of colors, in the end, the sky will turn pitch-black with scattered twinkling stars.

sure, spring was one of the most beautiful seasons. but that small amount of fondness for the aforementioned season will never be enough to make you want to experience it for the whole year. life played favorites though— it was spring for you all year round.

you smiled to yourself, trying to shrug off the thought. good thing you weren’t in your room and the sidewalk wasn’t the quietest place to be at during this hour. it offered a space for distractions. most shops were closing, students were to go home from long hours of studying, workers with a weariness that yours couldn’t match walking to hubs for some sort of leisure activities. if you were in some kind of company work, you’d probably be in the same position. going for a drink or two with friends after working hours. but well, you weren’t.

instead of a bustling office requiring formal attire; you were usually in your pajamas, musing about life and writing about it through means of prose and poetry. a young published author who was known for having a great appreciation for flowers. in a few months, another book will be launched under your name. its spine holding all the papers inked by your love, not for flowers or anything else, but for a childhood friend who seemed to not have taken notice of the flower that began growing in your lungs— a rose.

reaching the convenience store, you contemplated which instant food would serve as your dinner tonight. ordered food seemed to have bored out your taste buds, a little change was needed. and to say, probably a more unhealthy choice. maybe a dosirak would do or a kimbap and peel sausage.

as you were to enter, a call of your name put your feet to a halt. you turned to look at the speaker. “oh hey, woobin?”

a weak smile graced his lips, opening the door for you. he spoke after the both of you had entered the store. “tired of ordered meals?”

“kind of,” you replied, a sigh punctuating your words. you walked up to the aisle of dosirak. the sight of it made you swiftly cross it out of your options. you wanted something else. “how about you?”

“craved for ice cream,” answered woobin who, unlike you, had made his mind in settling with a pint of almond ice cream.

grabbing some triangle kimbaps, you looked at him with a raised brow. “wouldn’t that harm your ever so majestic voice?”

if you made money through books, woobin earned his through singing. it ranged from covers to original song compositions. he was quite popular with all the ballad songs he covered that without a lie was a heart-melter. if home and serenity would be defined using a voice, woobin’s would be the perfect definition for it.

“not really.” a chuckle was heard from him as he watched you grab a cup of instant ramyun. “well, wouldn’t that harm your ever so wonderful brain?”

you shook your head but laughed at the remark. woobin had been your friend for quite a long time, probably one of the closest. light and playful banters seemed to have become a part of your usual talks.

walking towards the counter, you settled your items which the worker scanned quickly. the amount flashed by the small screen, and you pulled your wallet out to pay. woobin followed shortly.

“a healthy alternative after ice cream?” you asked, noticing a herbal medicine pouch being placed in his bag.

woobin hunched his shoulders up, and proceeded to go out of the store.

a soft breeze welcomed you as you stepped out. the sidewalk was no longer as busy as it was earlier and the sky was losing its colors bit by bit as if the flickering lights in the queued lampposts were sucking it all.

“so how is it coming out?” woobin asked as he walked beside you. your apartment and his were only a few blocks away. his apartment was inside a street, away from the main road filled with noises coming from horns and speeding cars, while yours was in a complex near the road. you liked watching people from up the balcony, it was like watching a film, only that everything that was happening was real and only the made-up dialogues of the strangers were sheer fiction.

“minor editings left,” you replied. “also, next week the possible art for the cover will be out. want to check it out with me?”

he didn’t reply right after as if he was mentally checking his schedule, weighing if he was free or not. though his answer indicated that the things he had to do had flexible deadlines. “sure, just tell me when.”

“i’ll call you once they message me about it.” a cough ended your sentence, you covered your mouth as you did so. something smooth touching your palm. it was happening… again.

“are you alright?” concern evident on woobin’s face, he went closer to you. his hand on your back, rubbing circles to ease your coughing.

but he was aware it would not be enough to stop it. a rub or any sort of medicine wouldn’t stop it. like how will those be enough to stop a flower from blooming in your lungs?

it was the reason why even though you admired the beauty of spring, you also disliked it.

flowers were in full bloom during spring. the way each petal was colored was pleasing to the eye. however, such beauty should have just stayed where they were supposed to be. on the ground, decorating the world with its vibrant color. it should only be there instead of clinging onto someone's lungs after failing to get their love returned.

hanahaki, a disease that causes someone to cough up flower petals when their love is one-sided.

there were different stages of it. at first, it was only a mere cough. something one would mistake for a regular cough. until petals come along with it on the next stage. followed by a mix of blood, acute chest pain, and shortness of breathing in the last.

two ways to resolve it. either undergo a surgery which will cost a fortune at the risk of wiping out not only your emotions but also the memory of all people you are close with or have your love reciprocated. inability to obtain any of the mentioned cures will result in the most unfortunate event. no more pain from the flower sprouting in your chest. no ache, coming from the bitter taste of being reminded every single night that your love wasn’t reciprocated— death.

“i’m alright.” it took quite a while before your coughing subsided. you were sure petals were already accumulated on your hand. bringing your hand down, you let go of the red petals. luckily, no blood. but you didn’t expect less. this disease had been giving you restless nights lately, worsening and worsening.

a sigh left woobin’s lips as he shook his head. “that’s not the look of someone alright for me.”

the rest of the walk was silent. woobin insisted on walking you home, to which you had no power to decline. even if you told him no, he still ended up doing so.

by the time you reached the front of your unit, night had already won the clash in the sky. the stars glimmering above at their triumph.

“don’t work up until late,” woobin reminded.

you smiled, wishing you could tell him that it wasn’t the writing that made you get less rest every evening. it was the rose that inhabited your lungs. “i will not.”

“here,” said woobin, handing you the bag of the things he bought earlier.

the ice cream was no longer of its same form as it was earlier. its mist soaked the insides of the plastic bag. “and why are you giving it to me?”

“just take it. you know in movies heartbroken people would eat ice cream as they mope around.”

the lighthearted remark made you laugh. woobin had his ways to make you feel better. “and what about the medicine?”

“you’re probably sad, but that won’t mean that you should not take care of yourself.” he was aware of your feelings for someone else. he was aware of the red roses in your chest. he was aware that your feelings weren’t reciprocated.

“makes sense.” you flashed him a smile, scrambling on your bag to take out one of the triangle kimbaps. the item tossed to his direction which he caught smoothly. “take that at least.”

“well, thank you?” he gazed at the food you gave him before returning the smile. “have a good night, y/n. call me if you need anything.”

you hummed as a response, watching woobin make his way to the stairs, descending afterward. another gust of wind passed by and you rushed to go inside. staring at the now melted ice cream, you shook your head. a laugh escaping your lips as you closed the door.

how long has it been? you thought.

collapsing on the bed, you stared at the ceiling. the coughing had already stopped, yet the burning pain in your chest remained.

what was the flower again?

a rose?

maybe the stabbing ache was caused by its thorns that came to hug your lungs. you sighed as if that would altogether pull out the suffocating sensation— of course, it wouldn’t. it would never.

a curt beep on your phone pulled you out of your cloudy thoughts, reaching for it to read the notification. a message from one of your friends which read,

it’s your debut book’s first anniversary today! congrats, y/n.

for a moment, your lips curled into a faint smile, so weak that it didn’t even last for a minute. sending a quick reply to show gratitude over the thought, you allowed yourself to drown over the same thoughts.

that book with inked poetry all meant to deliver a single message— your feelings for taeyoung. the words laced in each rhyme was a cover of the affection you had for him, and the petals you cough each night was his answer.

a childhood friend who you used to be neighbors with. he still lived under the comforts of his parents’ home, while you moved to live alone in an apartment, desperately seeking independence.

or maybe seeking for a way to not see his face every single day and be reminded that his favorite flower, a rose, had been blooming in your lungs.

the brightness taeyoung had never seemed to fade, his smile still carried sunlight of its own. a contagious one that would make anyone have the same smile (but maybe not as bright). his bubbliness was a comfort. whenever around him, the butterflies causing chaos in your stomach would make you forget about the evening ache he was subconsciously bringing.

taeyoung, ever since you were young, loved books and flowers. you preferred other things though, but somehow you found yourself conforming to what he liked. being the person you spent most of your time with, his interest became yours. whenever he would tell you about something he became inclined to, you would check it as quick, forcing yourself to like it. it was a repeated action that was implanted as a habit. in the process of trying to be his ideal person, your own identity was thrown away. a trap filled with nothing but thorns of his favorite flower.

shifting to your side, your eyes landed on the wall just above your working table. photographs of roses were stuck on it, along with verses other people might find painfully beautiful. you knew your words better though. its beauty was a mere delusion. hiding behind the pretty words were ugly cries— your reality.

another cough, a petal escaping from your lips. it danced in the air as it was freed, only to meet the cold floor of your room. with flowers blooming in the chest, you closed your eyes drifting to sleep. the pain no longer mattered as it was the usual sensation.

a soft instrumental had taken over your apartment. the sun was already up, its light filtering through the blinds. your potted plants were probably thankful for its generosity. you took a sip of your coffee, staring at the few words written in the new document reserved for a new manuscript. writing, or at least conceptualizing the main theme, of your next book was your top priority today. however, the continuous notifications coming from your close peers dragged you out of your bubble every single time.

with you celebrating the first anniversary of your debut book (which basically marked the day of your debut as a published writer), receiving messages was plain inevitable. your editor even asked if you’d be up for a drink later this night. an offer you turned down. silence and alone time this evening were everything you craved for.

putting your laptop on rest, you grabbed your own copy of withered roses, your book. it was silly how you decided to have perfectly blooming and lively roses as its cover when it contained the very title, your own withered roses hiding through beautiful verses.

flipping through the pages, you stopped on a certain poetry. undeniably, one of your favorites. it was one of the first poems that you wrote for this collection. grabbing a paper and a pen, you scribbled the words down, the same words still describing your situation perfectly. and maybe that was the reason why your condition was worsening.

you stuck the paper on the wall, just beside a photograph of a blue rose. for a moment, you stared at it, smiling at the words as if those were some kind of lost friends who rekindled with you. you smiled as if those were something that you should be smiling at.

three doorbells and a few knocks. a heavy sigh came out of your lips, tearing your eyes away from the poem. slow steps towards the door, the person on the other seemed rather impatient for the doorbell continuously made a sound. it was enough for another breath to escape the confines of your mouth.

swinging the door open, your eyes widened. the sight penetrating quickly to your senses and the sensation you hated the most overpowering you, your heartbeat loud. really loud. “taeyoung?”

for him to be able to give you the most wonderful feeling of warm cheeks and butterflies and still be able to poison you using his favorite flower lethal to your body, you wondered when it would end.

“it’s withered roses’ first anniversary!” his smile was a band-aid, too fleeting of a cure for you. he lifted a pot of cycnoches orchids, something that was probably from his parent’s flower shop. “here’s a gift for you.”

“thank you.” as he handed you the pot, you gave him enough space to enter your unit. placing it just beside the other plants you had, all coming from their shop, you turned to look at taeyoung. a pout appearing in your countenance. “you should have brought food.”

taeyoung scratched his head at your sudden words, a sheepish smile curving on his lips. “well, we can order.”

at the sight of a slightly flustered taeyoung, a string of laughter became your immediate response. “i was kidding.”

you went back to the couch to sit with taeyoung following you shortly. the music playing in your room had long ago stopped, something you only noticed after taeyoung came. after your awareness came to hug you once again.

his eyes wandered as if it was his first time in your unit. it was definitely not his first visit, to count how many times he’d been there was also impossible. just like how you frequented their flower shop, he was usually in your unit as well. maybe it was due to him being used to your company. childhood friends, former neighbors— inseparable, but in a manner that went nothing beyond romantic feelings. at least to his side.

glancing at him, you followed where his gaze was fixated on. it was focused on the wall that held photographs of roses and the poem you scribbled earlier from your book.

“wasn’t that the eighth poem in your book?” intrigued, he looked at you with a brow raised.

you didn't have to meet his gaze. a smile slowly crept out of your visage. it didn't hold an emotion though, more like a simple forced curve. "it is."

"i love it." it was a genuine remark, but somehow, instead of giving you a warm feeling, it did the opposite. standing up, he reached for the paper, detaching it from the wall. the words slipping out of his tongue as he read it out loud.

heat-haze; sunrays visible at the nighttime daydream under the cloud of deep distance built a sensation of unrequited affection innumerable actions-- satisfied, captured by mere existence. nevertheless, the heart was jinxed in a presence, a love, i cannot withdraw from.

as the final four lines were uttered, he looked at you in the eyes, a hint of gloom clouding his misty orbitals. he had the poem memorized, but it was only the words he had carved in his mind. the feelings sealed with it, unnoticed.

taeyoung was the reason why you began writing. a simple comment of his saying that you would make a good author and your words were all prettily laid out made you want to write.

or perhaps it was not the writing you were chasing for, rather the speaker who told you that he wished to see more of your writing.

for others, writing could be a form of escape. to be under a little spell that would pull someone out of their reality. you wished you were the same. you wished your writing wasn't your reality.

anywhere you go, you were surrounded by your reality. the potted plants you should not be taking care of if it wasn't for his interest in plants and flowers. the book that was published a year ago and the soon to be published one. the colors that accented your unit which he said was such a relaxing palette. the words in your head. the flower in your chest. it was the reality made out of nothing but the person you loved.

“wait.” taeyoung’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. he was peering over petals of red roses that were on your table.

it seemed like you forgot to clean it up earlier. well, you didn’t expect anyone to actually go to your house. such a realization was thought late.

“were you playing with roses?” taeyoung asked, frowning as he looked at it.

you’d consider that a stupid question, but taeyoung didn’t know a thing about your condition so you let it pass. there was no way in hell you’d tell him about it now. not yet. “yes.”

“so how was it?” the excitement and giddiness leaking in his tone as he plopped down next to you on the couch didn’t help. what was he even referring about? your hanahaki disease? what? as if hearing your question, he clarified his query, “does he love you?”

ah, the popular he loves me, he loves me not.

there was no need for that though, the petals you vomit each night was a clear answer. you smiled, leaning back to get seated more comfortably. “he doesn’t.”

the way those two words left your lips surprised you. no hint of hurt, sadness, or anything— it was laced with a calm tone as if retreating, surrendering, accepting. will it really be your fate?

taeyoung sighed, the smile he once had melting away. “don’t worry, it’s just a silly game anyway. the person you love probably loves you too.”

you turned to look at him. a mistake. kind eyes met yours, reassuring you of something you had already known for so long was false. there was no need to hang into that ray of hope when you were aware that it was not the case.

eyes glossy with the tears that never dared to fall, you offered him a tight-lipped smile. “thank you.”

he grinned, which you assumed was out of relief before he looked at your wall once again. “why use roses though? there are other flowers out there.”

“well, isn’t it the first flower you’d think of when you hear the word love?” you replied. “it means a lot more depending on its color, but in simple terms, it just means love and romance.”

“you seem to know a lot about it,” he remarked, not tearing his gaze away from the photograph. “why blue out of all colors?” he asked referring to the photograph you had on your wall.

“it stands for an impossible miracle.” a clear depiction of your situation. no word followed that sentence, and good thing taeyoung didn’t ask any further about why. maybe it was due to his perception that poetry writers had other symbolism hidden behind their verses, even when there was nothing and the message was just in front of their readers.

“roses are wonderful, aren’t they?”

not when they are blooming in your chest. not when its thorn embraces your lungs. not when it suffocates you. your thoughts were loud in your head. but you knew you can’t blame it for inhabiting your body. you can’t even have taeyoung blamed for it either. it was the universe’s fault for laying such a disease in humanity. “they truly are.”

“it’s my favorite,” taeyoung mused.

there was a smile that sat on your lips, a peck of gloom decorating its corners. “i know.”

how could you not when its petals were the ones that kept on coming out of your lips every evening?

a ringing coming from a device shattered the silence in your apartment. but this time, it wasn’t from yours. it was from taeyoung who was now about to leave your unit, his parents had called him to go and do his tasks in the flower shop. seemed like he had forgotten about it, considering that he’d been with you for almost an hour.

“take care and have fun for the rest of the day!” taeyoung ruffled your hair and left. his touch lingering.

your room suddenly felt empty. as if taeyoung had taken all the vibrancy it had after stepping out of it. taeyoung was your paradox— a home that housed nothing but emotions you shouldn’t regard as home, but you did. he was your home.

you coughed, a petal threatening to escape. the windpipe blocked, your chest tightening. a sorrowful smile was your only answer to the ache that was resurfacing. your gaze didn't falter, still locked on the photograph of the blue rose. to no one in particular, few words were whispered, “they are beautiful.”

“remind me again why i’m here with you?” woobin looked at the almost empty store; sleepwears displayed from the first showcase up to the last rack. it was a week after the first anniversary of your book, things had seemed to tranquil much more.

shopping during the working hours on weekdays was certainly one of the best things. the absence of people led to different advantages like having no long queue to the cashier, no people to deal with as you browse the clothes, and overall just serene shopping.

you didn’t mind it when a salesperson would go and ask you about what type or design you were looking for, they were probably getting bored having to stand for a long time and entertain just a few passing potential customers. the mall’s theme song was playing from a distant speaker, almost inaudible and muffled by the sweet piano music playing in the shop itself. keeping it up to the theme of the shop, if there was a bed in there, you’d probably be brought to sleep right after. something you weren’t sure to consider as a good aspect or bad aspect of the clothing store.

“well, you just finished posting another wonderful cover which hit a hundred thousand views in an hour, we must celebrate, right?” you replied as you picked up a pair of pastel plaid pajamas, checking the fabric quality to which you quickly marked as spandex.

woobin reached for the design next to what you picked up, eyeing it with less interest than you had. “but why are we buying pajamas?”

“because i need it.” a chuckle was heard from you after he let go of a sigh at your words. you stepped closer to him, peering over his shoulder to check the design he was checking.

“by the way,” he began, not wanting to ask more as he was aware of your love for comfortable clothes (pajamas being the top of it along with sweaters and hoodies). “i’m applying for a job in this pharmaceutical company located in another town as a medicinal chemist.”

“oh? the one you mentioned before?” you watched him go through another set of sleepwear.

it was a sudden reminder that before being known as the seo woobin who sang various songs in innumerable gigs and had built a name in the music side of youtube, he was the seo woobin who excelled in his major, organic chemistry. for years of him not applying for an actual job as a chemist anywhere and pursuing his dream career, that fact was swept out of your mind.

you met woobin in one of your electives— a chemistry class that you would probably have to retake only if he didn’t help you out. the limited slots in language classes were the ones you put your blame on, but it wasn’t completely that bad. after all, you had ended up making a good friend in the class you despised the most.

“are you going to quit singing?” worry was painted all over your face which earned a soft amused laughter from woobin. you adore his singing a lot, the comfort his mellifluous voice could bring was distinct, something you’d grown ever so fond of.

“you know, i just want to put my degree into proper use.” woobin smiled reassuringly as he tossed you a set of pajamas with the design he guessed was what you were searching for, the one with doodled roses decorating it from bottom to the top. “kind of had the urge to get a secured job.”

the clothing dumped to you went unnoticed as you fired off another question. “what about the album deal? i thought you already had one. what’s going to happen with that?”

“i will still sing.” there was no need to doubt woobin’s calm tone as he said those words. “don’t worry about it. i love singing and i’ll not stop doing it.”

“make sure to.” you walked towards another rack, finally noticing the pajamas woobin had thrown in your way earlier. staring at it for a moment, the initial thoughts about the flower easily came into your head. “this one’s cute. i’ll take it.”

unconvinced, woobin raised a brow at you. “are you sure you found it cute or there’s another reason behind you liking it?”

the other reason he was pertaining to was clear, enough to become a slap rather than a mere reminder. do you really like it or do you simply want the person you like to notice you for having something close to their favorite thing?

feeling lost to your own set of likes seemed like a normal thing. mind plagued with taeyoung’s interests that it mattered more than yours. at this point, you weren’t sure if you were doing it for him to like you back and finally get the fuzzy feeling of being loved back or you were simply desperate to stop the flowers from budding in your chest.

“i like it,” you answered after a long while of spacing out. you even nodded your head as if trying to convince yourself from a statement you weren’t sure whether to label as a lie or a truth.

“if you say so.” an indistinct sigh came across woobin, subtly shaking his head in disbelief. he didn’t go deeper into the topic though, instead uttered some words that made a bright smile grace your lips. “go and choose whichever you want. it’s on me today.”

wearing the new pair of a loose shirt and pajama, you gazed at your reflection. a curve spotted on your lips, satisfied with the new purchase. demeanor dropping as a familiar sensation crawled up to your senses. the calm night was taken aback when your chest began tightening. a petal quickly rising, stuck on your throat afterward as you tried to hold it in. however, it was a failed attempt. the urge strong that you had to run towards the bathroom to release all the petals of the vivid red rose that nurtured in your body, watered with nothing but unreturned affection.

just like any other night, the sickness came to do its visit. its terrible reminder playing in your mind. the blood that mingled with the petals was hard to discern as they were colored in the same hue; it tasted different though.

a ringing in your head as your vision started to blur, not noticing how tears had formed in your eyes as the pain emerged to be stronger than it usually was. the intensifying ache wasn’t the only one that made your tears fall. all your unnoticed efforts, regardless of how big they were, were the ones that brought salty tears. your knees buckled, allowing you to meet the ground unceremoniously. it was getting harder to breathe and the cold bathroom tiles were your only company.

it was a twisted melody. in each cough, petals would escape. it didn’t even take a long time for you to be surrounded by a sea of red petals. what a sickening view, you thought. how do people regard roses as something so beautiful?

a memory.

“dear, taeyoung is outside, waiting for you.” a few knocks on the door accompanied your mother’s call.

it was a hot summer, the sun giving no mercy with its ray as if angry with how it was neglected during the cold seasons. with a few remaining days before the start of a new quarter, you probably had spent most of your time in your room. oftentimes will you go out only at the call of a childhood friend.

“y/n.” as if stepping out of your thoughts, taeyoung had your name wrapped by his cheerful voice. “mom made homemade ice cream. come on, get out of your room already.”

if your own mother wasn’t able to pull you out of your room, taeyoung was. your feet quick to move as you checked on your reflection by the mirror, practicing a smile and some silent dialogues. all to which you weren’t really able to show when you opened the door. a faint blush crept on your cheeks as soon as your gaze landed on the bright smile taeyoung had on his own. butterflies flew free in your stomach, heart pounding.

maybe it was the way taeyoung would talk to you with an unmatched enthusiasm even if your words make no sense. maybe it was because of the vibrancy he had all around him that simply could bring comfort to anyone he was with. maybe it was due to the fact that he had been with you since you were a kid.

or maybe it was just because he was him, kim taeyoung, that your crush began budding as a love. and as soon as it did, his favorite flower, a rose, was caught in your lungs during middle school.

occupied by the sensation, your mind didn’t attend to the continuous doorbells ringing in your apartment. in a few, the door was opened, rushed footsteps along with your name uttered in sheer concern echoed in your unit. with the air knocked out by the relentless flower, from red your vision turned pitch black.

when dusk fell, woobin was already in the hospital with a drink in his hand, which was meant to be given to you. he’d been going back and forth to the hospital and his apartment to bring you food and some other items you needed.

the scene he witnessed last night was still fresh in his mind, the panic lingering. on your cold bathroom floor, you laid unconscious with petals of roses surrounding your figure. he was swift to get help, which ended up with you having to stay for almost a day in the lonely ward. your room making you feel sicker.

“oh, you’re back?” serim, the head nurse and a close friend of woobin, said as he walked towards the other.

woobin nodded, tracing the track he’d been stepping into since this morning. it was as if he could easily go to your room even with eyes closed. serim followed from behind and before he could say a word, woobin had already found your room empty. finally, he offered the nurse attention. “where’s y/n? already discharged?”

“yes, they just went to talk with their doctor for a few more reminders.” serim shook his head disapprovingly. “they should stay longer, but they seem like a very busy person.”

“y/n should just follow their doctor.” a sigh punctuated woobin’s sentence.

“and you should too,” said serim.

woobin began walking his way back to the nurse station reception to wait for you. “my case is different.”

“you’re slowly losing your voice because of your own sickness.” serim’s sigh was way heavier than woobin’s, his orbitals painted with worry. being one of woobin’s closest friends, he knew all about it. “orchids are blooming in your lungs, how are you different?”

a glare was darted to serim’s direction which became woobin’s sole reply since they both saw you approaching them. serim hunched his shoulders up, shaking his head once again before walking away.

“thank you for taking care of me,” you told woobin who handed you the drink he bought outside.

“of course,” woobin said, leading the way out.

there weren't a lot of people in the lobby. only a few were there, either the nurses turning for their night shifts or the relatives of those people staying in the hospital for the night.

“it’s getting worse, isn’t it?” woobin’s words slowed down your pace, your head turned to him as he continued. “shouldn’t you start trying to move on and finding someone who can actually love you back?”

“what do you mean?”

woobin shrugged. “it seems like it’s the only way for you to be properly healed.”

yes, moving on and falling for someone else was a considered cure as well. a change of feelings could remove the flower naturally. but doing so was easier said than done.

a sad smile became evident on your brim. how could you do that? you thought. “i can’t just fall in love with someone like it’s nothing, woobin.”

“give me a chance then.”

woobin’s words were powerful enough to make your feet stop from moving, to catch your breath and make it halt. it can’t be. you looked at him confused, wishing that you misunderstood what he said. you wished that it would be his regular sentences as he tried to make you feel better. you wished what you were thinking was a mere thought, an idea, a false gut feeling. “woobin?”

it was a question that didn’t need any elaboration. the simple call of his name with such perplexed tone was enough as a query. the same gloomy smile on his lips matched what you had earlier, accompanied by his faint chuckles. “yes,” to your horror, he confirmed. he let go of a breath, something that gave him a boost to finally utter the words he’d been meaning to say. “i’m in love with you and all i want is for the flowers in your chest to stop blossoming.”

“that means…”

to experience the same thing you had been experiencing. to give someone the same taste of your suffering. to plant a flower in someone’s chest and water it every day as you were failing to return their provided affection. it was something you didn’t wish to do, an extremely unfavorable idea which reminded you of how the universe had been unfair from the very start.

“yes, and they aren’t beautiful.” a tight-lipped smile became apparent on his countenance as he stared at the glass doors of the hospital. a few more steps and both of you will be out of the place the two of you frequented on different days, but for the same means— a fleeting cure for the ache caused by hanahaki. “the pain we’re both carrying out of unrequited love. it isn’t beautiful, y/n.”

a lump in your throat stopped any possible reply from coming out of your lips. you wanted to apologize, but an apology from taeyoung wasn’t the thing you’d want to hear from him after you confess and you assumed such wouldn’t give comfort to woobin as well. an apology wouldn’t be enough when you were already striping away someone with their lives.

rather untimely, the door opened, revealing taeyoung. he was holding a basket of flowers, probably for some kind of delivery. with hinted concern, he walked towards you and woobin. “what are you doing here?”

“stomach ache.” regardless of your mangled thoughts, it was a surprise that you were able to respond as soon. it was as if such sickness was a practiced lie.

“is that so?” taeyoung looked at woobin to confirm and the older just nodded not wanting to speak more. he turned to you, his worry dropping a few levels, but was still obvious. “let me just bring this flower to a friend and i’ll walk you home. will that be alright?”

you looked at woobin, silently asking if he would be okay with that. it was such a silly act, of course, he would be against it. but what can he do? just like him, the person you had grown fond of hasn't reciprocated your feelings yet. both of you probably wishing the same thing— for the flowers to wither and be gone. for the restless nights to end. to be loved back. the only difference was woobin was so focused on you that he had forgotten about his condition which was worsening at the same rate as yours.

he patted your shoulder. “sure, i need to head somewhere else anyway. get home safely?”

“i will, you too, woobin.” you gave woobin a smile, guilt sitting in your stomach which was continuously twisting.

woobin weakly mirrored the feature before turning his back to you and taeyoung. as he was stepping out of the establishment, he looked at the twinkling stars, hoping this night would be kinder. but he was certain he’d be the one coughing out orchids tonight, probably worse than your roses.

the stars from above watched you and taeyoung walk on the now empty sidewalk. even without the illumination coming from the lampposts, it was all so bright. all in gratitude for the moon which served as a ball of shining light in the clear night sky.

"you've been sick since we were kids, but you never told me what with." taeyoung broke the silence, uncertain if he should go further. “was it really because of stomach ache earlier?”

a chill ran down your spine, making you inwardly shiver. that wasn’t the talk you were so ready to face. and after what happened last night, you can’t simply bring another lie. however, telling taeyoung everything wasn’t something you planned to do as well. afraid that rejection would become the final straw.

taeyoung stopped dead on his tracks, looking at you with nothing but sheer concern. “is there anything bothering you?”

you gave him a smile which was obviously forced. “don’t worry about it.” you urged him to continue to walk and he did, but just as you thought that you were already safe from his questions, he asked another.

“it’s not a stomach ache wasn’t it?” hands on his back, his gaze was fixated on the road. “what was it, y/n?”

maybe it was time to tell taeyoung about it? maybe— “hanahaki.” the words subconsciously slipped out of your tongue.

“what?” surprised by the mention of the disease, his eyes were wide when he whipped his head to your direction. “you mean… your love is unrequited?”

taeyoung was quick to catch the gist of the disease. it was pretty much a popular sickness that had probably made some of his other friends suffer. the only thing he wasn’t quick to get was… who your feelings were for.

“woobin doesn’t like you back?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts which was purely of practicing the possible explanations if he ended up recognizing your feelings for him. and apparently, he didn’t.

it was your turn to shoot him a look. “what?”

“don’t you like woobin?” he averted his gaze and it trailed back to the road. “i mean the two of you seem like really close friends and you’re together most of the time.”

you didn’t know whether you should be relieved or not. but since you were still unprepared to offer any explanation, you just went with the flow. a bitter smile coming to your lips. your head had his name on your sentence, regardless of how you uttered another man’s name. “yes, i like woobin. but it seems like he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“maybe you should… try moving on?”

the way taeyoung suggested the same thing made you laugh, confusing the person beside you. to move on, huh? was that what the universe wanted you to do? to move on? a smile lingered on your visage, as you stepped on the stairs with taeyoung following you behind. it was just funny how he thought you were in love with woobin, when in fact the flower he adored the most was living in your lungs. that he was the person you were in love with, not any other person.

stopping at the front step, the worry that sat on his orbitals didn’t waver. the look asking if you’d be alright tonight— you already knew the answer. “take care, okay? if you need anything, just call me. good night.”

as soon as you closed the door, it began. the coughing that seemingly just waited for you to step into your unit came rushing. a petal waving in the air before meeting the ground. “i need your love, taeyoung. i badly need it.”

the smell of freshly done pancakes wafted up to your bed, a few noises coming from the kitchen followed. it was a gentle alarm that pushed you to wake up and get out of your bed. too groggy, a foot still on the dream you were having, you didn’t think that whoever was in the kitchen could be a thief or anything. well, who in their proper mind would cook food for the owner of the house if they were only to snatch things after?

a few days ago, you had an extreme case of hanahaki, something that led you to stay in the hospital overnight. after that, it had seemed to subside or at least be more gentle during the evening, resulting in more hours of sleep.

“woobin?” you called his name as you watched him turn off the stove, placing the fluffy pancakes onto a plate. there was already a hot chocolate ready for you to drink. you didn’t even question how he got inside. probably jungmo, the landowner, gave him the code to your room. oh, talk about privacy.

his smile was as warm as the morning sunrays. “good morning.” his voice was a little hoarse, normally you wouldn’t really pay attention to that. when he recorded songs too much in a day, he’d end up with such. but now that you knew he was experiencing hanahaki, a question hung in your head. was it because of the coughing? your thoughts dropped at the sound of his voice, still mellow regardless. “i’ve cooked you breakfast.”

“don’t you have work to do?” you asked, remembering how during the past days he’d been telling you about his new work— the slot in that pharmaceutical company as a medicinal chemist. you dragged a chair before occupying it, looking at him as he placed all the things he used in the sink. a curve became visible on your lips as your eyes fell to what he prepared. it was just pancakes, but it was woobin’s pancakes. he was such an amazing cook, you could vouch for that. “thank you by the way.”

“work? ah yeah.” he took the seat adjacent to yours, a cup of coffee in his hands. he grinned at you and you swore, your heart was in ultimate chaos when you heard his next words. “i took on the job of taking care of you for free starting today.”

sunlight filtered through the glass door of the flower shop, highlighting the wide variety of spring flowers. ranunculus, tulips, and calla lilies were all displayed along with other non-seasonal plants. there weren't a lot of customers coming, given that there were flowers available to be picked up in some public gardens. regardless, there were still a few who would come and get flowers arranged for some special occasions. but then again, it was just morning. it was rather too early to judge the possible count of customers later.

“jungmo’s coughing out petals now,” allen, one of the workers in the flower shop. said.

taeyoung looked at him, pausing his actions of tying a yellow ribbon in the bouquet of tulips. with a brow raised, he asked, “hanahaki?”

putting the freshly done arrangement of peonies, allen tapped on the counter which called the attention of the delivery man. he pointed out the card which contained the address and watched the other go out to deliver the item. dragging a stool to sit on, he stretched his arms. “seems to be. he’s coughing out petals of his crush’s favorite flower, crocus. i don’t think it’s a mere crush now though.”

“oh, so the flower that blooms in a body experiencing hanahaki would be the favorite flower of the person they like?” taeyoung asked as he finished the bouquet he was working on. he retrieved stems of roses and cut them nicely, removing the thorns and excess leaves.

“yes,” allen replied. “you like roses right?”

taeyoung only nodded, a memory alighting in his head. it can’t be—

“that means the person who likes you, but ends up with a one-sided love would end up having roses in their chest,” allen continued, causing taeyoung’s hand to stop from moving. the younger’s eyes fixated on the collection of red roses in his hands.

“it’s my favorite,” taeyoung mused.

there was a smile that sat on your lips, a peck of gloom decorating its corners. “i know.”

the flower growing in your chest was his favorite flower, roses?

it was him all this time?

right at that moment, there was one thing taeyoung would want to address himself as. an idiot. realizations came crashing to him like a powerful wave that held no mercy. it was ice cold, his body freezing at each thought that his mind welcomed.

the petals he found on your desk weren't there because of a silly game of he loves me, he loves me not. it was the petals you coughed out and forgot to clean.

“are you okay?” allen asked, momentarily snapping taeyoung out of his daze.

the twisting on taeyoung stomach was unbearable. his heart racing not with flutters, but rather with anxious thoughts. he was the cause of your pain?

with an almost inaudible voice, taeyoung let out of his horror. “y/n likes me.”

continuous taps on the keyboard, words appearing on the screen only for the flow to stop with punctuation. in sync, the doorbell rang. you no longer wondered who it was. it had always been him.

you stood up and shuffled towards the door, opening it before welcoming the male with a warm curve in your face. “it’s lunch already?”

woobin nodded, handing you a bag of still hot dishes he cooked probably not more than an hour ago. he followed you as you made your way to the dining area. when the male said he’d be taking care of you starting that specific breakfast, he stuck to his words, visiting you almost every day. the only exception was when he had to meet a producer. his own album was in the process of being finalized.

you placed the bag down and woobin walked towards your cupboard. where to find the things was already memorized. it was as if he was living in the very unit.

“so how’s your morning?” he asked as he placed two plates on the table.

“woke up a bit late, but i was able to finish the last set of poetry i’ve been meaning to write!” the spark in your eyes was a lot brighter than the past days. it was easily contagious as woobin found himself having the same amount of glee. “i’ll print the last parts and let you read, wait.”

woobin shook his head, a smile crossing his brim as he watched you go to your workspace to do what you said. as he finished setting up your lunch, he took a seat and waited for you. just like you, woobin was experiencing fewer symptoms. his voice was no longer that raspy and he was able to post new song covers almost every week regardless of his current busy schedule with other recordings.

“here!” with unwavering enthusiasm, you extended your hand for him to reach the printed papers. you sat on the seat across him, gazing at the food which only made your mouth water. eyes already feeding off the sight of the meat dishes.

“this is quite interesting,” woobin remarked. “is this the last one?”

you nodded at his words when he showed you the last page. “i figured that it could be the best way to end it.”

“it sure does.” woobin served you by putting meat on the top of your rice. “eat up.”

just like the past days, you enjoyed lunch with woobin. a few talks here and there, though most of the time the two of you were silent. not the terrible kind of silence, but a good one. something comforting. and maybe that kind of silence was all you needed.

after the meal, the two of you sat on the couch. the television served as background noise as you run down the things you have to do this afternoon.

“you seem to be happier the past days, did you get yourself another contract?” woobin asked once you were done telling him where to drive you today, the flower shop and to your editor’s place.

“i do?” you caught sight of the lone photograph of roses on your wall. the poetry that accompanied it once was now resting on your table. “i haven’t been coughing recently.” your cheerfulness evident when your eyes wrinkled into crescents as you turned your head towards the direction where woobin was sitting. “maybe he’s starting to like me!”

a soft beam hugged woobin’s visage, contented with the result you were having. for your own flower to stop blooming, that was all he wished for. his mind got him best though, speaking without much thought as he eyed the last poem you wrote once again. “or maybe you’re starting to like him less.”

blinking in confusion, woobin handed you back the printed papers you gave him earlier. it was on the last page. the words were probably a clear indication of your feelings.

zest gone. pen dropped. book closed. lock kept. no word survived.

those words weren’t the most gleeful of words, but it carried freedom. something you’d been wishing you could get out of taeyoung’s labyrinth of roses. something you never knew would finally come to you.

“right?” woobin pulled you out of your own thoughts. “i’ve been coughing less as well and i can guarantee that you’re the only one i like.”

“that means…?”

“you’re slowly moving on, y/n.” woobin gave your head a light pat. his beam growing warmer as he looked at you. “you’re moving on.”

before going to the place where you were to meet your editor, you asked woobin to stop by the flower shop. knowing your editor, she’d probably love some dahlias and irises.

upon entering the shop, the same floral scent you had been accustomed to since you were younger embraced you. however, instead of taeyoung greeting you, the expression in his face— wide eyes after a gasp— was a little perplexing. you raised a brow at him, stepping closer to the counter with woobin following you from behind.

“dah—”

“can we have a moment?” taeyoung’s question interrupted your own set of words.

with a head tilted to the side, you didn’t make an effort to hide your confusion. the seemingly forced smile he had, which was quite too awkward for your liking was not a help at all. you turned to look at woobin, asking if it would be alright for him to wait. “will it be okay?”

“sure.” woobin shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant as he could. something he was successful in doing so. “i’ll buy you a drink while i wait. just send me a message if you’re done.”

“thank you, woobin.” and with those words said, you watched woobin leave the establishment. as soon as he did, your stomach sunk. there was no one else in the flower shop, it seemed like the other staff had already left.

taeyoung gestured to you to sit on an empty stool next to the counter, but you declined. instead, you leaned to it, urging him to speak what he wanted to talk about. he wasn’t the kind to be hesitant with such, but now, it was as if his tongue was tied in hundreds of knots and words can’t just be delivered.

“you’re experiencing hanahaki, right?” a stiff start. not only you, but taeyoung could feel how unnatural it sounded. no cheeky grins, no bright tone. it was flat and dripping with nervousness you weren’t aware taeyoung could be under the state of. “how are you?”

“i’m alright.” you chuckled at his words, letting loose of the already tensed atmosphere. as much as you were nervous for what was to come, you didn’t want it to spread on your formerly cheerful mood. “come on, taeyoung. i’m not going to be mad or anything.”

it partially helped taeyoung who had a small smile on his visage. but his eyes were still unable to meet yours as he locked his gaze on something else, the flowers healthily blooming inside the shop. “you were coughing out… roses, right?”

you hummed as a reply. finally taking the offer to sit. “yes, your favorite.”

“that means that you like me?” taeyoung took the seat next to your stool.

surprisingly, instead of worrying about how your little secret got figured out, you had an opposite feeling. you were relieved. there was no anxiety about him giving you the possibly worst rejection, no concern about how he could possibly shatter a thorned heart.

whatever made him realize such a thing, you were thankful. at least you no longer have to go through excessive explanations.

but there was something you would want to clarify.

“i used to like you a lot,” you said, giving an emphasis to the phrase: used to. a relieved sigh left your lips, satisfied with how everything was happening. it wasn’t as bad as you imagined. “you don’t have to worry now though, i’m gradually moving on.”

“still. you had to suffer from that for years,” he trailed. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay taeyoung.” your tight-lipped smile turned into a genuine one. the moment you shifted your gaze to look at taeyoung, you met his eyes. regardless of the pain it brought you, there was in no way you saw yourself blaming taeyoung. you liked him. and that summed it up. “your brightness was a blessing and never did i regret liking you despite the thorns and petals brought by it.”

his slightly soaked eyes were an indication of his former worry, which was slowly being washed away by a good amount of reassurance. “i’m glad.”

“you no longer have to worry about the roses, taeyoung.” stripping down the photographs on your wall for the past days, you replaced them with other photographs. you were sure the delusion was coming to an end. yes, the roses were indeed beautiful. but its thorn wasn’t as astonishing. “it’s withering.”

a stray tear slipped out of your eye and taeyoung didn’t only catch the tear, his arms were wrapped around you in such a warm hug. you were sure no petals would come out of your lips again. the warmth that embraced your body conveyed a closing home.

it’s time to move out and find a home that has no garden.

you no longer despised the spring. the beautiful flowers surrounding the town were no longer catching distasteful looks from you. your lungs free from spring. hand wrapped around woobin’s, the warm rays of the remaining afternoon sunlight filtered through the thick leaves of the trees the two of you would pass by.

another book was published, all containing the last words for your former muse. the title didn’t hide anything, quite an obvious choice: kalopsia.

three times a week you would go out for a book signing while woobin, now your boyfriend, would fetch you every time. he was busy himself with the recording of his album which was to be released by the end of the month. but he never missed going to the venue where your book signing would take place. by now, he probably had about nine signed copies of your book.

“you experienced hanahaki as well, right?” you asked woobin as you passed by a shop that had orchids hanging on the wall. petals of lush yellow, pink and purple decorating it.

woobin chuckled, taken aback by your unexpected question. “i did.”

“how was it?”

“it was weird. i mean coughing out petals so suddenly.” he looked at you, only to see your furrowed brows. something that made him laugh once again. “what do you expect me to answer?”

“that made you realize that you like me?”

“don’t be silly. even before the first petal left my lips, i knew i already liked you.” a contented smile graced his brim. even before that, the way his heart would thump in his chest as if it had run a marathon, the way a dumb smile would hang on his lips once he saw you, the way he would be subconsciously adoring you while you were busy writing, the way he wanted to be beside you, the way he wished to hold you closer— it all happened before a petal of orchid escaped the confines of his mouth.

a faint blush became apparent on your cheeks, giving it such a cute color. “and up until now you still like me…”

“correction, it’s liked. past tense,” woobin said, laughing at how your expression shifted. he took a big step and stopped right in front of you, he turned to face you with his hand still holding yours. “now, i love you.”

the weather wasn’t as hot since the sun was preparing for the twilight, but your cheeks were. it was accompanied by the wild flutters in your stomach. letting go of woobin’s hand (a reflex to hide how flustered his words got you), your ears were enveloped by his sweet, sweet chuckle. you walked past through him in such rushed footsteps, a peal of laughter escaping your lips as you did so. “i can’t believe you had to say that in that way.”

however, you were not even that far from him when woobin caught you. your steps halted when he locked you in a back hug, giving your cheek a light peck which simply made it more flushed. “i love you more than you’d ever know,” he carefully whispered to your ear.

you chuckled at the gestures, his words tickling you. regardless of how playful it seemed to be, you knew woobin was dead serious with it. he detached himself from you, only to hold your hand once more and walk beside you.

glancing at your interlaced fingers, you leaned your head to his shoulder. “i love you too, woobin.”

“i love you so much, y/n,” he replied, gently squeezing your hand.

to be able to look at the flowers without thinking about how they budded in your body, to rest every evening without worrying about the petals disrupting your serene night, to be right next to the person you love and loves you, there was nothing else you could wish for.

the flowers in your chest had long ago stopped blooming. it went the same way with woobin. but little did you know... orchids started blooming on someone else’s body, slowly growing on the chest of the person who once caused you to have roses hugging your lungs.

and just like how you first found those roses beautiful, taeyoung thought those orchids were too.

[immabethehero]

Chase’s Bday Present Pt 1

Runs in holding a latte *wheeze...* I’m here! And I have three presents for Chase because I’m indecisive as hell! So! Here is the first birthday present, a sweet little ditty I wrote!

CW: talk of food, slight body horror and stitches mention (Robbie), and Soft Anti

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Septic house was in disarray. Jameson Jackson frantically polished the stairway and furniture until it sparkled, Marvin the Magnificent washed the dishes while Jackieboy Man dried them, and Antisepticeye cleaned up the living room seats. All the while, Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, loomed over all of them, barking orders while cleaning the floors. Robbie the zombie was the only one not under Schneep’s scrutiny, having wisely taken shelter in the laundry room, folding clothes and ironing while waiting to put the next load in. Sirius and Sam, Marvin’s cat and Henrik’s dog respectively, had taken to hiding upstairs.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Anti said as he vacuumed up the couch and cushioned seats. “It’s just Chase. He’s seen this house before, why bother cleaning it?”

“Chase hasn’t been here in awhile! I want him to receive a warm welcome back!” Henrik explained. “I do hope he enjoyed the cottage with Stacy and the kids though.”

“It’s only been two weeks! Not much has changed since!” Anti groaned.

“Jameson turned you into a turtle,” Marvin pointed out. Jameson snickered at the memory.

“Henrik tried his first bit of magic!” Jackie added. “Managed to turn Jameson into a duck!”

“See? Loads happened while he was gone,” Henrik finished. Anti rolled his eyes and went out to beat the rugs.

“Jameson, can you tune the piano? One of us might want to play something upon his arrival, and we can’t have the piano broken when we do so,” Henrik asked. Jameson nodded and happily left his cloth on the staircase, hands aching to touch the piano.

Henrik put the vacuum away and turned to the flower vase on the living room table. Daffodils. They didn’t seem quite as bright as they did earlier.

“Do you think we should change the flowers in the vase?” Henrik wondered out loud.

“Daffodils are Chase’s favourite flowers!” Anti yelled from outside. “I think we’re okay!”

“They look so dull, though,” Henrik remarked.

“I have an idea!” Marvin cried out. He dried his hands and ran over. “Stargazer lilies are also Chase’s favourite flower! Jameson and I have been growing them in our garden while he was gone. I can pluck a few and replace them!”

“Aren’t they poisonous to cats?” Jackie asked, nervously looking over at Sirius, who had descended to lie on the steps.

“Sirius hates flowers, the smell bothers her. She won’t go near them. But just in case-” Marvin picked up the vase and put them on the dining room table, then summoned a forcefield to keep Sirius away. Just for good measure, he also created two plastic cucumbers and placed them around the plant. Henrik and Jackie snickered. Marvin could hear Sirius scowling at him.

“I’ll get some lilies!” Marvin said, picking the daffodils up and running out. He almost collided with Anti, who was holding at least six rugs. Anti threw the rugs down one by one, then flopped onto the couch, yawning.

“Anti, don’t tell me you’re tired already!” Henrik said, sighing exasperatedly. “There’s still so much to do!”

“Like what?” mumbled Anti, eyes threatening to close.

“Like a treat! I was thinking of making a sweet dessert for Chase!” Henrik announced.

“But we just cleaned the kitchen!” complained Jackie.

“Relax, I’ll clean everything when I’m done,” Henrik reassured. “You go rest, I’ll be hogging the kitchen for a while!”

Jackie nodded and gratefully stumbled over to the couch, hoping to catch some winks before Chase’s return.

“Can I help?” Robbie asked, finally emerging from the laundry room.

{I can help as well!} offered Jameson bouncing back from the piano.

“Thanks guys,” Henrik said. “This is a new recipe we’ll be making: Cheddar Biscuits.”

Robbie and Jameson froze and stared at Henrik quizzically. “What?”

“Cheddar biscuits. Stacy emailed me the recipe,” Henrik explained. “They’re apparently really good.”

“Even the name sounds like a treat!” Jameson sighed. “Let’s make them!”

Henrik, Jameson and Robbie spent the next hour or so in the kitchen. Jameson and Henrik did the bulk of the work, Jameson mixing dry ingredients while Henrik did liquid, while Robbie shredded cheese and melted butter with pieces of garlic in them.

Finally, they clumped the mixture together and spread butter on them, then popped them in the oven and washed up the dishes.

When they were done, at least 24 golden brown scones had been made. The six egos marvelled over the glorious little treats. Even Sam and Sirius couldn’t resist coming over and squeezing through to sniff the food. Anti reached a hand out, only to have it smacked away by Henrik.

“Wait until Chase is home, you greedy monster!” he scolded. Anti grunted in frustration.

The biscuits were placed in a little basket with two napkins on top to keep them fresh, then hidden in the bottom cupboard next to the oven, where Henrik kept his coffee beans. No one with a braincell dared to go near Henrik’s coffee supply, and only few ever survived getting in.

*

“Everything is finished! We can rest now!” Marvin cried in delight.

“Can’t wait for Chase to see!” Jackie said happily. “How long before he returns?”

Henrik checked his watch. “Not until 6 o’clock at the latest!”

The egos collectively groaned in frustration. Only 1:30 pm and now they had to wait!

 “You woke us all up at 6:30 in the fucking morning for this?! We could have slept a little longer you know!” Jackie snapped.

“Yeah, especially after you kept us all up with you Facetiming Chase until midnight last night!” Marvin added.

“If Chase notices the bags under my eyes, it’s because of you!” Jameson griped.

“At least everything is ready now!” Henrik reasoned. “Now all we have to do is wait! And not mess up the house in those few hours! If you want to do something, make sure it involves little movement or anything that could shake the house up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking a nap!” He flounced upstairs, leaving the egos to find any activity to pass the time.

*

Two hours passed. Jameson taught Robbie how to play cribbage. Jackie and Anti attempted to teach Marvin how to play, or rather, cheat at Mario Kart. Henrik switched between pacing the front hallway and playing Solitaire and Bio Inc Redemption on his laptop.

“Henrik, do sit down and relax!” Jameson finally said after Henrik got up for the thirteen time.

“I can’t help it! I miss Chase! I want to talk to him again!” Henrik moaned.

“You spent three hours with him on Facetime last night!” Anti exclaimed.

“There is a very big difference between Facetiming someone and seeing them in person!” Henrik retorted. “Do you know how hard it is to talk to him and not smell his vanilla scent or feel his warm embrace? I miss seeing him at the table with his messy hair and stupid puns. I miss hearing his laugh in person. I miss him so badly.”

“Are we jokes to you?!” Marvin demanded. “We miss him too, Henrik, but we have each other. You literally said you enjoyed sitting next to me on movie nights!”

“I know… maybe I’m just being too clingy,” Henrik sighed, sitting down beside Marvin.

Anti snapped his fingers and Mario Kart showed up on Henrik’s computer screen. “Here. Try playing a few games with us and he’ll come sooner.”

Another hour passed. Jameson read. Henrik screamed in fury as he lost another round of Mario Kart. Anti laughed at him. Marvin gave up and started playing Animal Crossing. Jackie grabbed a snack and watched Youtube. Robbie and Sam were fast asleep on the floor. Jameson laughed softly and conjured a blanket to put over them, then went back to his reading.

Henrik was raging so loudly they almost didn’t hear the doorbell. Jameson was the first to hear it. He whistled to get the others’ attention. Robbie woke up and groggily rubbed his eyes.

“Do you hear that?” Jameson asked, putting his ear up to listen. Another ring. Then a voice cried out, “Hello? Are you going to let me in? Did you already forget me? Have I been kicked out?”

Henrik gasped in delight and almost threw his laptop onto the floor, but Anti was quick to save it as the doctor jumped out his seat and dashed over the front door, swinging it open.

Chase Brody stood in the doorway, still playing with the doorbell. He jumped when he noticed the door open.

“CHASE!!!!” Henrik squealed, throwing himself on the vlogger. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!” Chase giggled as Henrik showered him with kisses and squeezed him tightly. Sam danced around them, barking happily.

“Hello, Henrik. Long time, no see.” Chase waved to the others. “Hey guys!”

“Chase! Welcome home!” Marvin said, running over to hug him. “We missed you too, but probably not as much as Henrik.”

“Yeah… Henrik? Could you let me go, please?” Chase wheezed. Henrik was starting to suffocate him. “I… can’t… breathe…”

“Come inside! We made treats!” Robbie cried, dragging Chase in by the hand.

“Did you now?” Chase sniffed the air. “Ooh, I can smell it!”

“We also ordered some chocolate snacks from Shawn Flynn’s Sweet Menagerie, just to celebrate your return!” Jackie added.

“Sounds awesome!” Chase exclaimed.

{Come, make yourself at home!} Jameson said. Chase was led to the couch, where his feet were propped up and a blanket was thrown over him. Sam jumped up beside him and curled up next to him, lying her head on his lap.

Henrik and Jackie set the table while Jameson and Anti got the food out. Chase would have happily gotten up to join them, but he was too tired to move, and Sam wouldn’t budge.

Marvin chuckled when he saw the sight. “Why don’t we eat in the living room tonight? Turn on Netflix and have a little movie fest?” The egos were quick to agree, and Henrik served Chase’s plate to him ona tray, choosing to sit next to him. Sam moved to the other side of the couch, letting Henrik in.

“Here you go! Dinosaur nuggets with mashed potatoes!” Henrik announced, setting the plate down. “Jameson convinced me to mix garlic butter into the potatoes this time, like you used to do!”

“It smells delicious!” Chase exclaimed in ecstasy. He dipped a nugget in the mashed potatoes and ate it, humming happily.

“So what movie are we watching?” Robbie asked, grabbing the remote.

“You’ve probably seen quite a few new movies at Stacy’s cottage,” Jackie told Chase. “Why don’t you decide?”

Chase shrugged. “Just a few. None of us could ever agree, so it was rare for us to watch a new movie. But we all agreed on this sweet little film.” Chase flipped through Amazon Prime until he found a title called This Beautiful Fantastic.

“It’s about a girl who wants to become a writer and slowly learns how to become a gardener.” Chase pressed play and they watched the film. Chase, Henrik and Sam on the couch, Marvin on the purple reclining chair, Anti on the teal green armchair, and Jameson, Jackie and Robbie on the ground.

Halfway through the movie, Jackie remarked, “That father reminds me a lot of you, Chase. I can see why you liked it.”

“Vern?” Chase asked. “He’s just a dad trying to raise his kids. What makes you think I’m like him?”

“You’re both sweet, and a total dork,” Marvin said. Chase playfully threw a pillow at him. Marvin snickered and exaggeratedly hugged the pillow. “I’m keeping this.”

“You both love cooking,” Jameson added.

“And you’re a devoted family man!” Henrik interjected.

“You are all so kind to me,” Chase said with a sigh. “I don’t deserve you guys.”

“Shut up, of course you do!” Marvin said.

“No I don’t!” Chase playfully retorted.

“Shhh, lies!” Jackie hissed, smiling.

“Stop!” Chase cried, blushing. “Seriously though, I didn’t think I would be getting the royal treatment after only two weeks away. I really didn’t do anything.”

“Funny, that’s what we said whenever we returned from vacations and travels,” Jackie remarked. “That didn’t stop you from throwing us a welcome back party.”

“It didn’t stop you from giving me a cake after my 100th successful surgery,” Henrik said.

“Or taking me to a fancy restaurant on my first full day without popping a stitch or losing a limb,” Robbie added.

“You bought me a handsome vest when I got that role I so desperately wanted,” Jameson reminisced.

“You’re a wonderful test subject for all my new spells,” Marvin said.

“You always celebrate us and our successes,” Jackie said. “After all you’ve done for us, I think it’s safe to say you deserve the best from us.”

Chase felt his eyes water up. Face red, he looked down, feeling embarrassed. He rubbed his eyes, smiling. “Thank you. You guys are always so sweet.”

Henrik gently kissed his forehead. “Welcome back, Chase.”

Chase finished wiping his eyes and looked up. “So. What happened when I was gone?”

Henrik grinned. “So, remember when I told you about getting magic lessons from Marvin? Funny story...”

~~~~~

@milo-kno, here’s your punishment >:3 Part one!

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada,@meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans,  @the-pastel-kitsune, @bupine,  @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milo-kno, @pixelpixie-pix, @why-killed-markiplier

[everybodyscupoftea]

let it snow

college isaac x reader

finals week hell capped off with the first snow of the season

(warnings: mentions of not taking care of yourself during finals - lack of sleep, over-caffeinating, etc; cursing; very little editing)

Finals week fall of your third year was ugly. It was a grueling combination of coffee and protein bars with absolutely no sleep. There was a table you’d managed to claim on the third floor of your campus’s library, and the only time you left was for an ill-advised gym trip to wake yourself up.

Isaac didn’t like the silence of the third floor like you did, so he’d been working with some of the kids in his major. You texted him a few times a day, but for the most part, you’d been reworking every single homework assignment you’d been given all semester.

Mid-way through the week, you made a trip to Taco Bell for actual food that wasn’t toast or a protein bar, much to Isaac’s displeasure. He watched you eating it with a weird look, so you finally asked, “What?”

“How much have you eaten this week?”

“Lots of protein bars and breakfast.”

“And instead of letting me cook something good for you tonight, you got fast food?”

“Yep. Braincells are overworked, so I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Stiles was sitting on the opposite end of the table, working on a research paper for his criminal justice course, and snorted, “Dude, she’d rather Taco Bell than your cooking.”

“That’s not true, I definitely said I forgot.” you muttered, trying to defend him.

He shrugged, “That’s not what I heard.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles’s shoulder, “Fuck off, dude.”

“Who’s editing your Shakespeare paper? Me. Show some respect.”

“Stiles makes a point,” you responded, taking the last bite of your quesadilla before breaking off into a large yawn. 

The furrow between Isaac’s brow was back when he looked at you, and you stood up, rolling your shoulders out, ready to go back to the library to work through another set of structures homework.

“Hey, when’s the last time you slept?” Stiles asked, shutting his computer gently.

“Like,” you paused, trying to think, “last night.”

Immediately, Isaac chipped in, “How long?”

“Three hours?”

“And the night before?” Stiles was walking over to you.

“Oh, no sleep that night. Got sucked into some geotech homework and the next thing I knew it was 6 a.m. So I went to the gym to get some endorphins going, had some breakfast, and got another coffee.”

“You should sleep,” Isaac told you.

“Only two more tests, and then I can rest.”

Stiles sighed, “At least take a shower.”

“Actually, that would be great.”

Isaac nodded, and you could tell he was already trying to figure out the best way to get you to stay the night. You were determined to power through for a bit. 

Getting out of the shower, feeling significantly more alive, you put on the clothes Isaac had left for you, and started toweling your hair off. You checked the outside temperature, wincing when you saw how fucking cold it was, and started layering back up.

Isaac was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix, when you walked out. He jumped up, “Where are you going?”

“Library for a few hours and then bed.”

“What time is your first test tomorrow?”

You sighed, trying to think, “Fuck, I need to check. I think 10:30 in the morning.”

“What class?”

With a grimace, you answered, “Structures.”

He looked like he didn’t really want to let you go, but he knew you’d be really upset if he tried to keep you back. Nodding, he smiled softly, “Text me after your test tomorrow.”

“I will.”

Putting a hand on his shoulder for balance, you rose up on your tiptoes to give him a goodbye kiss. When you pulled apart, Isaac reached over and grabbed a beanie from the hook next to the door, gently putting it on your head, tugging it down to cover your ears.

“Don’t want you to get sick,” he flicked your nose.

You clutched your chest dramatically, “My hero.”

He sighed, feigning exasperation, and nudged you out the door, “Go finish the semester.”

-

Structures and geotech, both on the same day, kicked your ass. After the geotech final at 2:00, you stumbled out of the classroom, eyes practically shutting. You weren’t sure that you could make the drive back to your apartment.

Taking one more sip of coffee to power through, and after a few minutes, pulled out your phone. Isaac’s apartment was fairly close to the civil engineering building, so you decided to call to see if you could crash there.

“Isaac,” you started when he answered.

“Hey, bub.”

“Can I stay at your place?”

“Yeah of course,” you heard ruffling in the background and suddenly his voice got louder, “are you close?”

“Walking that way. I don’t think I should drive back to my apartment.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “I was gonna pick something up on my way home, but I forgot.”

“No worries,” he was quick to reassure, “I have plenty of food here for you.”

“God, you’re the best.”

He stuttered a few times, and you could practically feel his blush through the phone, “Hurry up,” was his weak response, and you laughed, hanging up.

The walk was easier after that, though the sky was grey and the wind was picking up. You frowned, pulling your jacket tighter around you, and Isaac’s hat lower on your head. It took about three seconds for him to answer after you knocked, dressed exactly the same as the day before.

He had a plate ready for you, leftover fried rice and chicken, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Before you could start eating, he asked, “How were your tests?”

“Geotech was easier, but structures melted my brain in the morning, so who actually knows. What about your Shakespeare essay?”

“Stiles read it over for me last night and I submitted it online and dropped it off this morning. Been watching Netflix since then.”

You yawned again, stretching out with the hand not holding your plate, and walked over to the couch to sit down. Isaac sat next to you and hit play on whatever movie he’d been watching. Curling up, you dug in.

-

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. You faintly remembered dozing off during the movie, plate still in your lap, before Isaac woke you up and made you go to bed. He woke you up once more when he climbed in next to you.

 The third and final time you woke up, Isaac was gone. It was light outside, grey like snow was coming, and you had no clue what time it was, just that you were hungry again. You heard a burst of loud laughter before someone shushed them, equally loudly.

WIth a laugh, you climbed out of bed, heading to the bathroom connected to his room to brush your teeth and wash your face. Luckily, the clothes you’d left the night before were washed and sitting on his dresser, so you were able to change.

Scott and Stiles were on the couch, playing COD, when you finally walked out. Stiles hit pause and whistled, “Damn, look who managed to resurrect herself.”

“Looks pretty good for a dead bitch,” you joked back.

Isaac was in the kitchen, and you went over to see what he was cooking. He handed you a mug with a smile, “It’s hot chocolate. Figure you’ve had enough caffeine for a whole month this week. There is some coffee in the recipe, I saw it online.”

Taking a sip, you hummed, “This is fantastic.”

He beamed, “I’m glad you like it. I’m making taco soup for tonight, did you want a sandwich?”

“That would be great.”

Hopping up on the counter, you swung your legs back and forth and watched him make you a grilled cheese just the way you like it, tomatoes and everything. Isaac handed it over and ruffled your hair gently, “Eat up.”

“Very nutritious,” you commented before taking a bite.

He laughed, “I’ll make you eat veggies later. I want to go outside first, it snowed.”

“Oh my god, actually?” you gasped.

Leaning against the counter next to you, he nodded, “First of the year.”

“What time is it?” you finally remembered to ask between bites.

“3:00 in the afternoon. I texted your roommate while you were asleep to let her know you were alive.”

“Oh shit, thanks.”

Scott wandered into the kitchen, “So, we going outside soon?”

“We need to get out there before it gets all ugly,” Stiles added from where he was still on the couch.

“Let’s fucking go,” you hopped off the counter, eating your last bite.

The four of you traipsed outside after bundling up. There were a few other people outside walking around, a group of girls taking pictures under a really pretty snow-covered tree, and then your group making noise and kicking at the snow.

“I can’t take you guys anywhere,” you snorted when Stiles slipped and fell on his ass.

“God damn,” he muttered, “that hurt.”

Scott helped him up and immediately shoved a handful of snow down his shirt. Stiles squealed, twisting away from him, cursing loudly. You and Isaac laughed, his arm draped over your shoulder, until Scott turned your way with two more handfuls.

“If you put that down my shirt,” you warned, “I’m calling your mom.”

“You won’t.”

“Fuckin bet, bud.”

He dropped one hand slowly and turned to Isaac, “You’re on your own.”

While Scott chased Isaac across the parking lot, Stiles walked over toward the edge of the sidewalk, you following closely behind, interested to see what he was going to do with the mischievous look on his face.

With his foot, Stiles spelled out penis in the snow.

“Oh that’s mature.”

He glared at you, “Do better, I dare you.”

After a few seconds of thought, you spelled out send nudes and he had to concede defeat. Isaac came back a few seconds later, panting, cheeks red, and looked down, “Cute.”

“Thanks. Should I leave my Snap too?”

He rolled his eyes, “No.”

“You’re probably right. I have no interest in seeing an unsolicited dick pic this close to Christmas.”

“Just this close to Christmas?” Scott asked, “You’re okay with it the rest of the year?”

You paused, “Well no. Don’t make fun of me, my single braincell is still recovering.”

Stiles snorted, “Head empty snow day.”

“My mom will want a picture,” you told them, “set up the timer.”

It took five attempts, but you finally got one you were happy with. Isaac leaned over your shoulder, “Tell your mom I said hey.”

“Will do,” you muttered, looking at it again.

Scott stood on the right, eyes squinted with a wide smile, Isaac a bit behind him, one arm over Scott’s shoulder, one around you. Isaac’s smile was soft, looking straight at you. Stiles stood on your left, your arm wrapped around his shoulder, his hand reaching for yours, cheeky grin on his face while you glared playfully at him.

“Come on,” Stiles yelled, halfway up the stairs back to their apartment, “hot chocolate awaits!”

You hit send and followed after them, ready for another mug.

~

day eleven of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: playing in the snow

[ji-yaaan]

@kendal0ksw Asks: Anyway... I would like to request a sweet honey milk tea of Deuce, Azul, and Malleus (being called Tsunotaro) with a male Yuu kissing their hand. And when asked why he responds that 1. they looked like they needed a little distraction from whatever was troubling them and 2. to show how much they care about them. Hope this is alright...

𝑨 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚

Headcannons with: Malleus, Deuce, & Azul

Note: Someone pls shoot me I don't know how to write 3 repetitive scenarios w/o making it boring asf. So with request that has similar patterns per character, I figured Headcannons would work? I hope it's ok. I tried making imagines but it looked boring... OH! But I added my short Azul scenario as compensation. Blergh enough chitchat I'm thirstea.

[ 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚊 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍... ]

-ˋˏ•𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂•ˎˊ-

After a long day of being avoided being the infamous “Malleus Draconia” this fae gets tired from the attention he draws and the lack of attention he gets.

Dealing with Dorm duties, People constantly fearing him for nothing, people approaching him to pry information *cough Rook cough* and to not even get an invite in dorm leader meetings? This just gives him a bit of a headache.

He will probably flee to his room when things get a little bit out of hand and he needs some of that good relaxation time.

Resting his head on the bed. Eyes slowly close. The atmosphere relaxing as breaths slow down. "Welcome back Tsunotaro!" You cheerfully exclaimed.

What? Nani? What in the world? Was he that distracted to not notice you in the room this whole time? Expect yourself a O.O face from you local fae.

"Hmm? I didnt notice you were there Y/n..." Even if your lovely Malleus is shocked, He will still gently smile at you. Eyes narrowing, an endearing smile appears in his face everytime he looks at you.

Slowly, your hands would make it's way to creep in his hands. Bingo! Hand holding complete!

Ok! Time for mission number 2! After a tight clasp on Malleus' fingers, you brought your face close to the hands you held dear, and gave the fae a small kiss at the back of his hands.

As if the shock earlier wasn't enough, The fae's eyes widens in surprise yet again. Malleus definitely doesn't get your behavior at times..... But it's not like he hates it... In fact, He loves it...( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

A warm giddy smile paint your face. How infectious... A smile that can melt all your troubles away within a hitch of a second. Malleus can't help but smile ear to ear with the endearing gestures he received.

"But why would you even kiss my hand?" The fae questions in laughter. "Well, you looked pretty troubled today and I dont really know how to help... So I thought that a small kiss will do the trick!"

"You know how much I care about you right?" The answer Malleus got was something priceless. His heart felt warm and fuzzy hearing that someone cares for him. There really was never a dull moment with you.

Expect a little tint of flushed pink in the fae's cheeks for a brief moment. But gotta look close! Malleus won't show it, but he's blushy wushy and melting all over!

Tsunotaro is not much of the type to get the receiving end but he's still very thankful you did this for him uwu.

Expect malleus to give you a kiss on your hand in return too! He can't help but want to share the feeling he got when you kissed his! ^~^

-ˋˏ•𝑫𝒆𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒆•ˎˊ-

Finishing the last lesson of Alchemy class, Spade boi is exhausted. Using too much braincells is not his forte, but he still needs to grind to get to the honor roll!

He will probably stay in the classroom for a bit and study some of the history materials and alchemy reviewers for the test tommorow... Oops, our cutie fell asleep while writing down his notes.

You walk your way to the classroom because you forgot something. But surprise surprise, it seems like the something you forgot is actually a person, not a belonging...ಠωಠ

You peeked at deuce sleeping soundly with his head resting on the desk. You laughed at how cute he looked sleeping with his mouth open.

He didn't even spare time to take off his lab coat. He must be exhausted huh?Worried by deuce, staying for a bit won't be a crime right?

While reading, somehow, your eyes wanders off to his hands that fell off the desk while he grunted "five more minutes." Wow, sleeping deuce is probably one of the best deuce out there huh? You laughed to yourself.

Maybe it was because of boredom, maybe even from worry, or maybe its just because you simply wanted to do it. But you started to intertwine your fingers with deuce... WoaH...

Smiling at how comfortable it was to hold his hands. You prop your face to kiss his fingers. Chu~♡

"Uhhhmmm....." Oh... You got caught redhanded... Deuce wakes up to find you holding his hands... furthermore, YOU WERE KISSING IT! How embarrassing...(O////O)

Looking up at Deuce, You see a red tomato flushed boy. His cheeks up to his ears are painted pink from embarassment.

"Ahaha... Good morning... Oh wait... Good afternoon." Deuce will look away from you bashfully... How embarrassing for him... But face it, this is such a treat for you.

"You know... You've been awfully dazed and troubled these days... Please take take a break too... It's bad if you keep sleeping in random places! I care about you a lot and I don't want to see you stressed ok?"

Deuce was left astounded with the heartwarming speech you gave him... He felt butterflies flew in his stomach, like flowers bloomed inside his heart. Truly touching words...

Spade boi will smile gently at you, pink cheeks like powder blush, and eyes that sparkled Joy.

Expect this boi to grab your hands and put them in his pockets, saying "If taking a break is ok... Then this is ok right? Let's stay like this for a little bit longer... Ok?"

He'll look away in the other direction, propping his other hand and resting his head on it. If you look closely... A delicious red blush can be seen in his neck and ears too!

“Even if Riddle were to scold us, i think it will be worth it”♡♡♡♡♡♡

-ˋˏ•𝑨𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐•ˎˊ-

After a tiresome day as Mostro Lounge, the lounge closing a little later than the usual, A certain octopus is really tired and frustrated because the work got pushed back in their schedule.

As he skims through the numerous pages of parchment, octo boi let out a sigh from frustration. He has to deal with a lot of things this night....

But what he didn't expect was that you were there to brighten his night!

Have a short scenario cuz I love u ♡

Boisterous laughter. Joyful screams. Drinks spilt in the floors and tables. The lounge was getting rowdier with each passing second. Fights fuming in the other tables. Song being sung across the bars.

What's up with this chaos? Where was Jade and Floyd?.... Oh right... Azul nagged on floyd earlier this morning. He's now in his infamous bad moods leaving Jade the only responsible person azul can rely on. But Jade got his hands preoccupied with stopping fights at the moment... Dammit... This is going to be one hell of an evening.

After dealing with the chaos of Mostro Lounge's happy hour, strain and fatigue was evident just by a peek at Azul's Face.

"Haaahhhh... Dealing with those morons was a waste of time, I've still got a long night reviewing the deals and homeworks... Hah. Wonderful..." The sound of pen scratching the wood rang across the room as Azul hummed a melody trying to relieve stress...

"A.z.u.l. kun! Hello!" You happily hummed as azul got caught off guard shocked. "Hm! Oh! Y/n? When did you get here? Pardon me, The lounge was quite rowdy earlier and we had to close a little later than the usual... Oh wait a second lem me just take care of this..." Fingers swept through the crisp pages of numerous books. His pen lightly tapping a beat in the wooden desk.

Moments pass as seconds became minutes. The pen scratching noises enveloped the room drowning in silence. Azul was lost in thought as he burn through the hundreds of words written in the thin pieces of parchment.

You pout at the thought of azul ignoring you, but it's not like you can disturb his work either. So in the end, you just watch him skim through hundreds of pages and thousands of words. Eyebrows furrowed, he fixes his eyeglasses again...

Lost in thought, your eyes wanders off to his ungloved hand... The back of his hand looked smooth and it looked soft. Caught in the moment of daze, you didn't even realize your hands crept stealthily working its way to lock fingers with Azul. This caused azul to look at you in disbelief and shock as a tinge of pink paints his pale face.

What? Octoboi is confused. What? Why were you holding his hands? What? You're not letting go of his hands! futhermore, your fingers are INTERTWINED! Azul.exe has stopped working. Azul wasn't made for cute moments like this.

"Y/n... May I ask why you suddenly linked fingers with me?" Azul asked with his fingers tinged pink, face was painted red down to his neck. "Well... You looked really troubled while you were doing your work... So I thought that you can use a short break? You looked pretty stressed so...."

Ahhhh.... Azul really should've read that one romance book he once stumbled upon, how does he deal with this? Damn, he surely wasn't made for this... He stared up your eyes only to look away again bashfully.

Pfttt you gotta admit... Azul really looks cute like this. You slowy brought your lips to azul's hands. Chu~♡ a kiss on the hands! bingo! "There! Have a kiss as a token of my love for you and how much I care for you! Hehe!"

That's it, Azul needs maintenace after this... This is just too cute for his soul. Cheeks tinged red, he fixes his glasses up again. His hands lightly squeeze yours as he began to say "Well, I cannot abandon my work and responsibilities... But maybe it's not a crime if its just for a few minutes... Don't let go of my hand ok?" The night at Mostro Lounge was quite chilly than the usual. But the hours that passed by felt warmer with the hold of a certain octopus.

End.

Note: Running low on braincells, Hope you liked this. And yes, I'm currently in my real time Azul loving hours. Time to buy takoyaki~ jk no I'm doing more requests that is rotting in my inbox. Again, sorry if this was not your cup o' tea (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

[ghostnebula]

Sincere and Dignified

“Eddie's twenty-first birthday + The entire Losers' Club + Las Vegas + Being in love with your best friend = Well, exactly what you'd expect.”

[read it on Ao3]

(or here)

    Eddie’s birthday is in November. Which makes him the youngest member of the Losers’ Club. Which makes him the last Loser to turn twenty-one.

    Which means they go all-out to celebrate, since it’s the first time they can all (legally) celebrate together. And because they’ve kind of forgone “proper” twenty-first birthday festivities for everyone else, so no one would ever feel left out. Finally, no one needs to be left out of it.

    They’ve all been living together for over three years now, they’re all getting close to graduating from college, and they all saved up for this one, because this is pretty much it. The last big, fun, tangible milestone in their young lives. The last “new” thing they’re earning the right to do (legally) after driving and voting. You bet your ass they go ham on Eddie’s birthday plans.

    That’s how they end up in Vegas. Several long weeks of planning, lots of money they scraped together into jars over the last few years ready to be spent, checking and double-checking every class syllabus to make sure no one misses anything important on Friday (they have to be at their hotel in time for check-in or, between Stan and Eddie, someone will pitch a fit). Then they’re all piling into Ben’s station wagon with as little luggage as they could manage to bring for a weekend trip (the station wagon is “spacious”; it is not a fucking miracle vehicle).

    Roughly ten hours later (five hours for driving, two for check-in plus cramming all their crap into the motel room and then attempting to organize it, one for figuring out and agreeing on where to even start with the partying, two more for getting ready) Eddie Kaspbrak has his first legal drink as a proper twenty-one year old, on this night of November third, and there’s no aftertaste of guilt like usual. He’s got Richie pushing shots into his hands, Mike making sure he’s eating some snacks once in a while so he doesn’t get too trashed too fast, Bev directing bartenders to make the most delicious fucking drinks he thinks he’ll ever taste in his life (Porn Stars, or something else inappropriate like that).

    He has Bill, the oldest, practically under oath to stay sober (at least for tonight) so there’s one semi-coherent Loser present to keep the rest of them safe and sane until he can drag them all back to the motel.

    He has a wad of cash in his pocket, a chunk of his savings from the past year, ready to blow on booze and gambling and whatever the fuck he wants, because it’s his birthday, so he’s allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants.

    It’s safe, and more importantly, it’s legal, and most importantly, it’s Vegas. He never thought he’d ever have the balls to set foot in a place like this -- the kind of place his mother would demonize when he was a kid. Drinking, before he left Derry and his mom and the vice grip she had on his life, was completely out of the question, let alone getting hammered in a casino in Sin City, of all fucking places, under the care of the “evil little shits” he calls his best friends.

    He more than lets loose. He lets twenty-one years of virtually non-stop anxiety unwind in one night.

    When he wakes up the next morning, hung over for the first time in his life, it’s almost worth it. Bill’s the only motherfucker awake already, being that he’s the only one who doesn’t have several bottles of vodka et al. to sleep off, and he’s draped across the ratty arm chair in their ratty motel room, channel-surfing with the television volume as low as it can get. The light burns Eddie’s eyes, still, when he lifts his head and -- instead of turning, his head just kind of lolls on his shoulders until he can look at Bill properly.

    He wants to ask him to end his suffering, which he can only assume he has yet to see the worst of. Suddenly he understands why aspirin exists. He wants Bill to pump him full of painkillers until he stops feeling like he’s made of electrified cotton. Instead, he says, articulately, “Guh.”

    Bill turns his attention from Scooby-Doo to where Eddie is half-lying, trapped under the weight of Richie’s arm and half his chest. Richie is snoring away, glasses askew on his face, a cooling puddle of drool soaking Eddie’s shoulder. It’s gross, but he can’t really complain at this point. He’s accustomed to it by now.

    “Ah, he lives.”

    “Ugh,” says Eddie.

    “I bet,” says Bill. “So, do you want a recap of the events of last night, or did you keep your promise and remember every life-altering decision you chose to make?”

    Bill’s voice, which he’s hardly putting much effort into keeping down -- owing to the fact that all his effort is being channeled into trying not to laugh, and Eddie can’t even begin to fathom what’s so funny -- is causing the other Losers to stir. His splitting headache doesn’t want him to try to figure out what’s funny. He must have fried a metric shitload of braincells with all those Porn Stars last night, or whatever the fuck sugary booze Bev was pouring down his throat before everything went hazy.

    “Life-altering?” he repeats after a few moments, as Richie’s arm finally stops crushing him. It’s the only word that really stands out to him in the jumbled mess of hangover discomfort his brain is fighting, and it should cause him anxiety but he’s more worried, right now, about drinking some water. Richie sits up beside him, yawning.

    Bill hums. He looks terribly pleased with himself, which can be good or bad depending which side of the story you’re on, and Eddie’s got this sneaking suspicion he’s on the wrong side, here. “Yeah, that life-altering thing I tried to talk you two dipshits out of for longer than the actual ceremony took?”

    “Ceremony?” Eddie asks, trying to feel back through his poor, poor brain to remember anything after slot machines and vibrant chatter and deceptively sweet beverages being passed to him. Richie’s head drops onto his shoulder as his arms wrap around Eddie’s waist. “Guh,” he says into the fabric of Eddie’s rumpled shirt. Habitually, Eddie reaches up to pat him consolingly on the head. Richie’s not one for mornings.

    “Why don’t you take a look at your ring finger, birthday boy?” Bill says, but Eddie’s already frozen, because there was a flash when he raised his hand and he’s not entirely sure he’s believing what he’s seeing, and where the fuck did he even get the ring anyway, let alone a ring as nice as this? “Or, sorry, I should say: Mr. Tozier?”

    Eddie... mostly ignores him, in favour of smacking Richie a few times on the skull to get his attention, hangovers be damned. “Richie,” he hisses, heart going a mile a minute. “The fuck did I do?”

    Richie grumbles some kind of complaint, lifting his head from its safe space on Eddie’s shoulder, and when he follows Eddie’s gaze he lets out a kind of... laugh? More of a squawk, really. His left arm jerks off of Eddie’s waist lightning-quick, and then he’s holding up his own hand beside Eddie’s to show off their matching rings. “Oh my god,” he says, quiet (for Richie). A little bit of tension melts out of him. Then, “I think you mean, ‘the fuck did we do?’”

    “Oh my god,” Eddie squeaks, and Bill loses his battle and dissolves into peals of laughter, remote slipping out of his hands and landing somewhere on the floor. “Bill, you were supposed to be babysitting.”

    It takes a while, but Bill manages to regain his composure long enough to say, “Well forgive me, but you were a man on a mission. I distinctly remember a lot of, ‘we’re practically dating anyway’ and ‘no time like the present’ and ‘Bill, if you don’t step the fuck off I’m gonna shove this ring so far up your nostril you’ll be sneezing gold until you’re ninety.’ What was I gonna do about it?”

    “Oh my god,” Eddie says again, red-faced, mortified, heart still going-going-going. They aren’t dating, though, is the problem, and yeah, he’s always had this stupid little idea in his stupid little head that they might as well be, but he’s never asked, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Wasn’t sure if it was safe. Wasn’t sure if Richie wanted something proper or to just stay very, very close friends until the grave. They weren’t dating, and now they’re married, and ohJesusMaryandJoseph why did he let himself get so drunk last night?

    He doesn’t expect Richie to be resentful or anything, but he’s also an anxious mess by default, and post-drunken-haze Eddie is a different, apparently less chill person than mid-drunken-haze Eddie, because he doesn’t remember having this freakout last night.

    He doesn’t think that Richie will be pissed about it, necessarily, but he’s terrified that Richie’s going to want to... undo this, somehow.

    He expects regret.

    He doesn’t expect Richie to slide his hand against Eddie’s so that their rings clack together, letting out a soft little, “Aw,” as he does so, or to press his scratchy, stubbly face against Eddie’s cheek to plant a kiss there, or to say, just as quiet and soft as ever, “We’re married, Eds.”

    “Is that okay?” Eddie asks, heart in his throat, wondering if he somehow forced Richie into this when he wasn’t in full control of his faculties.

    “More than okay,” Richie says. “Is it okay with you?”

    Eddie nods dumbly, staring at their rings again, wondering what the fuck possessed them to make such a rash, life-altering decision like this, yet understanding all too well that his love for Richie is too big to contain and it has to spill out in little doses like this, or it’ll probably kill him, or make him go crazy. “Yeah,” he says finally, nodding perhaps too fast. “Yeah, Richie, it’s more than okay.”

    He turns in Richie’s arms to kiss him properly, apparently not for the first time, and just the action brings a couple snippets of last night’s escapades abruptly to the surface.

*

    “$25 Weddings,” a pink neon sign outside a squat white chapel proclaims, “Sincere and Dignified.” And below that, in smaller, baby blue lettering: “Can provide: Flowers, Rings, Witnesses, Transportation, Attire...” The list goes on. It’s a wonder Eddie is coherent enough to read it, let alone comprehend it, but he’s rounding on Richie, whose arm he’s hanging off of, with the best fucking idea already leaping from his lips.

*

    “Ffffffuck Kaspbrak,” Eddie slurs as a reluctant Bill helps him slip on a suit jacket, fiddling with the purple clip-on bowtie Richie threw over the divider at him. “Fuck Kaspbrak, right, Rich?”

    “Right,” Richie says enthusiastically -- probably too enthusiastically -- from the other side of the thin wooden divider that separates their “changing rooms.”

    “Fuck that name,” Eddie decides, nodding to himself. Bill takes the bowtie out of his hands with a sigh, and Eddie lifts his chin to let Bill fasten it to his shirt, grumbling all the while about how stupid they both are. “And fuck my mom.”

    “Fuck your mom!” Richie shouts. There’s a beat of relative quiet, then, “Not, like, fuck your mom, obviously. Fuck... you, maybe?” And then Bev’s raucous laughter echoes through the whole room.

    Eddie can’t help laughing with her, even though Bill’s insisting he stay still “so you can at least look semi-presentable for your pictures, c’mon, Eddie, this is a big moment for me, too.”

*

    “How are you the bridezilla, here, Bill?”

    “Could you please just work with me here, I swear to-- agh!” (More laughter from Bev. Stan saying something incomprehensible but loud and boisterous. Mike trying to shush them.) “I’m just trying to make sure this is actually special since you absolute buffoons refuse to just wait and do this right.” Is Bill fucking crying?

*

    Richie’s tongue down Eddie’s throat, over and over and over: in the chapel; in a bar; in front of the bar; just before Bill drags them away from the casino they’re trying to sneak back into and instead towards the station wagon he’s doing his best to herd the Losers to; in the station wagon; in front of the motel.

    Bill prying them apart with minimal assistance from a piss-drunk Ben who insists he’s “helping,” telling them once again that they are not allowed to consummate their fucking marriage in public, and especially not allowed to do it in the motel room all seven of them have to sleep in--

*

    He hears Bev’s little “aww” behind him somewhere as he and Richie break apart, and Stan’s grief about how fucking early it is “for this shit.” Eddie can hear something like a smile in his voice, if not just plain old amusement.

    “We’re married, Rich,” Eddie repeats incredulously, and Bill is saying something about their marriage license in his wallet because neither of them can be trusted, but Eddie couldn’t care less about licenses or whatever, because Richie’s smiling down at him in that way that makes his heart feel too full. And he doesn’t mean to, but a choked noise bubbles up out of him, almost a sob, maybe a laugh. Tears burn in his eyes.

    But that’s alright, because Richie’s crying already, and he wraps himself bodily around Eddie, rolling them over so he’s squishing him into the mattress while he kisses all over his face and his throat until Eddie’s squealing with laughter despite his agonizing hangover. He almost feels too good to care about it now, but he’s definitely getting some water and painkillers into his system the second the weird high he’s feeling subsides.

    “Okay, okay,” says Stan, standing above them suddenly, swatting at Richie’s shoulders. “You’ve had your fun. Noisy assholes. We were too drunk for proper congratulations last night. Move over.”

    All the Losers squeeze themselves onto the queen bed, somehow, and water bottles and aspirin get passed around. At some point Bill gets up to start the coffeemaker and comes back with (good fucking lord) their “wedding photos” in a crisp manila envelope. They’re just as gaudy as he expected. Leave it to Richie to find the ugliest possible outfit for his literal wedding.

    Eddie gets hugs and shoulder-squeezes and cheek-kisses from everyone, over and over, and Bev actually cries for about ten full minutes while she holds him, then at least ten more while she holds Richie, and then Ben cries, and... well, they all end up crying all over each other, but it’s awash with joy. “We’re happy for you,” they keep saying, and Eddie’s happy for them, too. He didn’t expect to accidentally do things this way, but he has to be glad it happened.

    “God,” he says a while later, shaking his head as he sips sugary coffee from the mug he and Richie are sharing (this room is meant for four people, max, not seven, and is equipped accordingly). He’s still examining a picture of Richie attempting to give him a piggy-back ride out of the chapel. Bill is visible in the background, eyes red and puffy, a wad of tissues clenched in his hand while Mike tries to console him. Eddie has been making fun of him for about half an hour now. “My mom would flip if I told her about this.” But the thought doesn���t scare him. He doesn’t get scared of her anymore. Not like he used to. Not when he’s so far away and he feels so safe with these six idiots who bring so much joy to his life.

    Richie’s thumb rubs over the skin of his lower back where his hand has crept up Eddie’s shirt. “Good thing you don’t have to,” he says, and that familiar mantra of “You never have to see her again,” bleeds through, plain as ever.

    Eddie hums. Passes the coffee back to him. “I know. But... I kinda want to. Just to watch her head explode,” he says with a shrug and a grin, earning a chorus of easy laughter from his friends. He stares at the ring on Richie’s finger as Richie throws back the rest of their coffee, something warm and familiar blooming brighter in his chest.

[captainmeowvelwrites]

All You Knead Is Loave (a miraculous one-shot)

Pairing: Marinette x Adrien Genre: Romance Rating: K+ Words: 2805 Summary: With her clumsiness in full swing, Marinette trips and sends Tikki flying across the classroom. Thinking she's a doll, the ever-crafty Lila accuses Marinette of stealing her—but for a certain clued-up classmate, that just won’t do. (Adrienette reveal fic.)

ANs: Bonjour! This prompted one-shot was written for a one year anniversary event on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server! The prompt, courtesy of Squishysib on AO3, was:

Tikki is somehow revealed to the class, but the class thinks she’s a doll. This could be anything from Marinette tripping and she comes flying out of the purse, to Lila stealing her from Marinette’s bag and claims that Mari stole it from her. Either way Adrien sees Tikki and uses the braincell.

Thanks for the prompt, Sibby! Hope you all enjoy. :D

ALL YOU KNEAD IS LOAVE:

First, her pigtails took twenty-two minutes to come to terms with the concept of symmetry.

Then, she barrelled through the bakery, only for Sabine to point out her shirt was back to front.

Now, she found herself in the midst of another maladroit mistake.

Underestimating the height of a step.

The first step to her seat.

A seat that was conspicuously empty because she was late.

But oh, it didn't stop there.

No no no. The day was just getting started.

Because in that moment of supreme clumsiness, Tikki, who'd been snoozing in the aftermath of a late-night akuma, flew from Marinette's pink clutch.

Time slowed, and in a blur of red and black, the kwami sailed through the air.

Down, down, down.

Until she landed on the hardwood floor, near a pair of brown boots. With eras of practice under her figurative belt, Tikki went rigid in a nanosecond.

But like a fox, Lila pounced. "My doll!"

Marinette's eyes bulged as Lila swiped Tikki off the floor.

"This was a gift from Prince Ali on a trip to Achu," she cried, clutching Tikki to her chest. "I thought it fell out of my bag! I was SO heart-broken."

It was then that crafty eyes honed in on her.

"Why did you have it, Marinette?"

Gasps shook the air.

All eyes in the classroom whipped to her.

Marinette marched up to Lila's desk, her shoulders squared. "Because she's MY doll," she growled, "not yours!"

A two-second silence hung thick in the air.

Frantic chatter erupted. Her classmates spoke over each other, a flurry of questions and accusations flooding the room.

"Children! Children!" Miss Bustier cried over the commotion, holding her hands high. "Settle down, everyone. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for this."

"It's okay, everybody," Lila declared, cradling Tikki in her conniving clutches. "The last place I saw Cindy was Place des Vosges. That's right by her parents' bakery." Her lower lip quivered as she spared the still-frozen kwami a dramatic glance. "Maybe Marinette just found her and didn't know who she belonged to." She sent the fuming girl a shaky smile. "Right, Marinette?"

"No!" Marinette sliced a hand through the air. "No, that's NOT right at all! I've had her for over a year and—"

Lila gasped, pressing Tikki to her chest as if expecting Marinette to lunge. "You're not refusing to leave Cindy with her rightful owner, are you?"

"But, Lila, you're not the rightful owner."

Marinette's sights shifted left.

Because someone had shared that truth.

With startling certainty.

But that someone hadn't been her.

A wall of windows framed Adrien's body, spilling light across his golden hair like a literal halo of sunshine. The human embodiment of an angel, watching over her clumsy self. He stared down Lila, his jaw tight and his eyes ablaze. It was an expression she was well-acquainted with, though she'd only ever seen it in another pair of eyes, on another face, from another boy.

"Her name is Tikki and she belongs with Marinette."

Every cell in her body screeched to a halt.

"I know this because she's one half of a pair—"

He wasn't another boy!

"—and I just so happen to own the other doll."

Adrien reached beneath his white overshirt, revealing a black doll with green eyes and a wiry tail. Only, it wasn't a doll at all. It was an unmoving Plagg, right there in Adrien's palm.

In Chat Noir's palm.

Her Kitty.

Her Adrien.

The same person.

Currently sending her his softest smile, eyes creased and imploring and utterly heart-melting.

"Right, Marinette?"

Reality struck with the subtlety of a spaceship. She shook her head with whiplash-inducing suddenness. Or did she already have whiplash?

…

Chat Noir is Adrien!

…

His eyes flickered over her face and slowly, his smile sank. "Marinette?"

Wait.

She'd shaken her head.

That meant she disagreed.

But she didn't.

Because Adrien was right.

Marinette nodded like a bobblehead stuck in an earthquake, fixing her tragic faux pas.

…

Adrien is Chat Noir!

…

He stepped between her and Lila and held out an expectant hand, palm up and waiting. "Thanks, Lila," he chimed, as cool as a whole patch of cucumbers, "for returning Tikki to Marinette."

Lila's lips moved, spelling what were probably more lies. Marinette was too busy fighting the blaring MAYDAY in her brain. Adrien Agreste, her larger-than-life partner. Chat Noir, her angelic classmate and year-long crush.

And if his face showed his thoughts, each one was hidden; he stood between her and Lila, quiet as his hand inched closer to the latter. His fingers beckoned like a silent encouragement. Or a silent hurry up.

A nerve twitched in Lila's temple, and Marinette's mouth fell open as Lila reluctantly placed Tikki—poor Tikki, stuck in a pose that looked awfully uncomfortable—into Adrien's awaiting palm. His fingers curled around her kwami like she was a living thing.

Because she was.

She was and Adrien knew it.

Just like he knew she was Ladybug.

He… knew she was…

"I'm so sorry, Adrien!" Lila threw both hands to her lips. "You too, Marinette. I don't know what came over me. My rare disease must be acting up again!"

Marinette's lips parted.

Some sort of strangled sound escaped them.

She should've just kept quiet.

"It's all right." A smile lined Adrien's voice. The same voice that delivered silly puns, cheesy one-liners and words of affirmation, all behind a black, leather mask. "If you'd like a referral for a great doctor, I can ask Father for some recommendations."

"Wow!" Lila pressed her palms together, flaunting a sickeningly sweet grin. "That's so nice of you, Adrien. I might just take you up on that!"

"No problem." But as he faced Marinette, she was eighty five percent sure she glimpsed the tail end of a grimace. Then, their eyes met, and his wrinkled with a smile, glistening green like dew-dusted fields, like early spring, like Chat Noir's.

Adrien stepped closer and held out his hand, Tikki stiff in his palm.

Marinette stared. She stared at his hand. She stared at Tikki. She stared at the shine of silver around his ring finger.

Marinette "Staring" Dupain-Cheng.

That was her name now—

A cough cut through the air. It sounded suspiciously like Alya.

But something else yanked her back to reality.

A warmth around her hand.

His gloveless fingers curled around hers, placing Tikki in her trembling grasp.

Trembling because he was her partner, her kitty…

And he knew it too.

Adrien guided her hand to her chest. "She's back where she belongs." His touch was tender, so very warm, and dare she think, loving. "With you, Mariboo."

Marinette's eyes blew wide. Her face was an actual sun, her heart a pounding conga drum, and by the way her jaw slackened, words were a foreign concept.

Adrien pressed a palm to her forehead, and she went stiff as a mannequin. "Excuse me, Miss Bustier? I think Marinette's running a fever." No, but give her five seconds and good God, she might be.

"No no no!" She peeled his palm away. "I am totally—"

One wink from her kitty.

"—uhh – in need of a qualified ice pack! I mean nurse!" She offered an affirmative nod. "Yes. A qualified nurse. Who can give me an ice pack. For my forehead. Which is on fire."

Adrien turned back to the teacher. "May I please have your permission to walk her to the nurse's office?"

"You're both excused," said Miss Bustier, beaming from the front of the classroom. "Take care, Marinette."

"I'm sure he will!" Marinette lurched ramrod straight. "I mean, I'm sure I will. Take care. So much care." She showed a double thumbs up. "And so will Chadrien—dah!—Adrien. Of me. He will take so much care of me."

From the corner of her eye, a hand appeared on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Miss Bustier!"

Even through her black blazer, the heat of his hand radiated as he guided her out of the classroom and into the sunny spring air.

It wasn't until they reached a quiet corner of the courtyard that Marinette realised three things:

She'd eyeballed his hand since its arrival on her shoulder.

Two hands now held her shoulders in place of one.

Both hands were trembling.

Marinette gazed at the boy before her. His eyes – the same eyes that glowed green during late-night patrols – pored over every inch of her face.

And finally, they found her own.

Gradually, his lips parted—

"I expect one heaping pile of cheese after THAT whole charade!"

Plagg emerged between them, a crease on his forehead and his tiny arms crossed.

It was then, as Tikki flew from her palm to hover near her shoulder, that Marinette realised she'd spent that whole time laying comatose in her hand. "Plagg," her kwami growled, hands on her hips, "they were about to have a moment!"

"So whaaat?" Plagg flicked a dismissive hand, suspended mid-air as though splayed across a sunlounger. "The cat's outta the bag! They have all the time in the WORLD to have more moments." He flipped upside down. "Besides, being a doll really worked up my appeti—"

Tikki fired him one of the fiercest glares Marinette had ever seen. And not just from her kwami.

Plagg righted himself, ears flattening. "Err – What I meant to say is that YOU must be starving, Sugar Cube." She shoved her nose to the cloudless sky with a little harumph, so he zoomed to her side. "You stayed still for SO long. It was very impurressive!"

Marinette pursed her lips. Apparently, Plagg cat punned too. "I'm so sorry for this whole mess, Tikki." Her kwami's face brightened as she held up a pink macaron. "Tomorrow, I'll be sure to bake you a whole batch of these little guys!"

Meanwhile, Adrien tossed a wedge of camembert in the air. "And I'll be sure to order an entire box of Pont l'Eveque," he promised, as Plagg downed the wedge in one gulp. "Just for you, buddy."

Plagg rubbed his belly and burped. "It's a start, I suppose."

"So," Adrien said, sights settling on her, "now I know you're a baker's daughter." His eyes gleamed. "I'd batter get a batch of puns in the oven, huh?"

Yup. That was her silly kitty, all right.

A giggle escaped her. "As long as your puns aren't stale," she countered, complete with a cheeky grin.

With gentle fingers and a gentler smile, he looped a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only the freshest for you, Mariboo."

Heat flamed up her face as she gawped at him, speechless.

Was he—

Was she—

Were they flirting?

Adrien bolted upright. "S-Sorry!" He rubbed the nape of his neck. "Old habits pie hard, I guess."

Marinette blinked at him.

Once.

Twice.

Finally, she made words happen.

"N-N-No!"

Kind of.

With a clear of her throat, Marinette tried again. "No, it's okay, Adrien." She reached for his hands, hearing his soft gasp as her skin brushed his. "I loave your puns."

His lips quirked up.

"You wouldn't be you without them." She threaded their fingers, free of leather and latex. He was so, so warm. "And thank you, Kitty," she breathed, giving his hands the lightest squeeze, "for all your help back there."

"Of course, M'Lady." Her heart fluttered, first at the title, then at the way he squeezed her hands right back. "You and me against the world, right?"

"Always."

A soft smile painted his lips.

It was so Adrien.

So Chat Noir.

So him—

"Y'know," he whispered, his voice feather light, "I could glaze into your eyes all day."

The sentiment of those words shone true in his own and before she knew it, Marinette was bringing her lips up to his. It was a light kiss. A quick kiss. Too sudden to let herself tremble. Too sudden to let him return it. Even as she pulled back, the warmth of his lips lingered on hers like an irrefutable fact.

She'd just kissed Adrien Agreste.

His mouth popped open, closed, open again.

Apparently, her kiss had turned him into a goldfish.

Oh God.

No no no no no.

Nerves exploded in her chest.

Had she misread his cute comment?

Marinette leapt back. "Sorry! Sorry! I am SO sorry!" She clutched her scalp in both hands and started to pace. "I – I thought— I mean, you were just so sweet and I—"

Adrien sprung forward to grip her elbow. "Date!" He slapped that same hand to his chest, panic flashing in his eyes. "I mean, would you like to date me?" One shake of his head. "No. Uh. Go on a date with me?" He kneaded his temples. "Which might lead to dating. If you'd like. But if not, that's fine too. There's still that boy and you—"

Marinette cut him off with a laugh of relief. “Silly cat.” She re-tangled her fingers with his, peering up at him through full lashes. “You ARE the boy”—oh, the irony—"and you always HAVE been.”

Adrien gaped, once again embracing his inner-fish. “I… I am?”

Chewing her lip, she nodded—slowly but surely.

In the moments that followed, his look of sheer shock transformed into unbridled joy. He leaned in close, their hands weaved together, and oh, she could definitely get used to this. "So, Marinette, what would you say if you and I met up tonight for a little dinner? Rooftop style?"

"I'd say that sounds purrfect."

Just like the sunshine smile that brightened his face in that moment.

She might've booped his adorable nose, had his hands not been so warm, so soft, so perfect in hers. Instead, she traced a thumb up the side of his hand, and her heart thrummed as he did it right back.

"Marinette?" Adrien's gaze flicked from her to his feet and back again. "Now that we're on the same page"—the tips of his ears flushed pink—"I'd loave to kiss you again… if you have dough complaints—"

Marinette moved onto her tiptoes and answered with her lips on his.

And this time, he kissed back. Lightly. Nervously. Perfectly imperfect.

One brush of his lips. Their noses bumped. They shared an awkward laugh and an angle readjustment; then, their lips reunited like two pieces of a puzzle, melding as wonderfully as his hands in hers.

Those same hands left her own, and her lips stilled on his. Until his arms stuttered around her. Inched her closer. Hesitated. She slid her hands through his golden locks, softer than mulberry silk. Her pulse fluttered as he melted against her, the delicious aroma of cologne filling her senses. Sweet. Spicy. Dizzying.

Like a budding artist to white canvas, each brush of their lips came more surely than the last—

A whiny groan had them springing apart. "Humans show affection in the most DISGUSTING of ways," Plagg droned, sticking out his pink tongue.

Marinette assumed the shade and heat of a chili. She jerked to throw her hands over her eyes, but as she glimpsed Adrien's endearing expression, they stopped just shy of her face. He'd revealed the most adorable of pouts and dawww, her poor heart was about ready to burst.

"Pla-Plagg," Adrien sputtered, and she imagined his tail going straight as a sabre. "That – That was our"—he hesitated, counting on his fingers—"fourth kiss you just interrupted!"

Plagg snorted. "Yeah, and I'm sure there'll be plenty more where THAT came from."

Tikki shot Plagg a scowl.

He whipped behind Adrien, peeking over his shoulder.

With a heart-stuttering smile, Adrien recouped his composure like a stumbling runway model, a blunder she knew for a fact he'd never done. He ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair and God, he sure looked like her kitty now. "Guess Plagg had better get used to the kisses"—he took her hands in his, his eyes twinkling—"because yours are unfurgettable."

"Except for the first two times when they weren't—"

"Plagg!" Adrien's pout returned with a vengeance. His red-tipped ears, twice as much.

Through a giggle, Marinette squeezed his hands. "Magic notwithstanding," she said, and placed a reassuring peck on his cheeks. "And back cat ya, my kitty."

Adrien's eyes went wide as a chasm, that pawsitively adorable blush creeping down his ears to his cheeks. Soon, his face softened, and a dreamy sigh slid from his lips. "I love when mew call me that."

First, her pigtails had taken twenty-two minutes to come to terms with the concept of symmetry.

Then, she'd barrelled through the bakery, only for Sabine to point out her shirt was back to front.

After, she'd tripped on a step and nearly lost her poor kwami to Lila.

But now, here she was, hand-in-hand with her friend, her partner, the love of her life.

And with their first date tonight, the day was just getting started.

[ghostbread892]

Fly with me

Pairing: Geralt x jaskier

Warnings: Near death experience, Love confession, Fluff, Oblivious boys, Roach has the braincell, Hurt/comfort, Soft jaskier, hurt geralt

A/N: I really liked this one and I hope you guys do too-

Summary: Jaskier throws his lute into the mud to distract the monster that about to kill geralt and it ends up needing to get repaired, chaos ensues and unknown feelings come to light

During his time on the path, Geralt never got to experience the little things life created. He only focused on getting coin and never being in the same place twice, he knew that if he stayed in the same place for too long someone would eventually grow tired of him and kick him out like many villages before had done, he had gotten used to the rinse and repeat routine he'd established for decades. He never truly got to experience what it was like to wake up calm, inhaling the scent of freshly bloomed flowers and the natural scent of the air after a long rainstorm like he had been able to do today. He knew this morning would be different, and in time he would realize that his whole day would be different as well.

He woke up to the sounds of singing and lute strings being plucked, his chest filled with relief that his bard hadn't been taken during his slumber. Something which he would've been able to notice but he feared he would be too slow to save him. He paused and went back over his inner dialogue again, 𝙝𝙞𝙨 bard, he'd gotten so used to this tiny human that his brain had claimed him already. This brought a warm feeling to his heart and made an unusual flush take over his normally stoic features.

No no, the bard wasn't his, as much as he would like that, the bard wasn't his to claim and even if he was, who in their right mind would love someone as monstrous as him. That thought brought a sour taste to his mouth, so he pushed it back and started getting their camp packed up, already thinking of where to head next and what monsters he would find in these parts.

~

They reach a village by dusk; Jaskier having been extra talkative and excited the whole day, but Geralt couldn't seem to figure out why which annoyed him to no end due to possibly not knowing or forgetting a special day for his bard. He paused again, the blush returning to his neck as he thought of the bard being his before he clenched his jaw and scoffed, as if a human could ever love a witcher. He continued walking whilst trying to keep his mind off Jaskier, which proved to be more difficult than it should've been. He ended up quietly talking to Roach as they made their way over to the closest inn, completely unaware of how Jaskier had gone quiet and was staring at his witcher with a lovestruck expression.

When they reached the inn he motioned Jaskier to go in to get them a room and food, while he saw to Roach and left her as comfortable as their coin could leave her, and checked for any contracts.

He found one for a fiend in the woods behind the tavern opposite of the inn and took it, he then made his way up to their room using his senses to locate jaskiers specific scent. One that he'd grown to love and that often calmed him when he woke up sweating and panting from a nightmare of the fears that haunted him as a child and that still haunt him even in his decades of life.

Once he got there he put his packs down before sitting down on the small table near the fireplace to eat the food Jaskier had got them, which was a mug of watered down ale that tasted like swamp water and a bowl of rabbit stew that had way too many unseasoned vegetables and hardly any rabbit, but it was enough to fill him up for his hunt so he ate it. Not before giving Jaskier an amused look as he went into a speech about how inns should be more greatful of their guests and give them better food, he chipped in now and then to correct Jaskier about small things just to watch him flush a soft pink, looking alarmed before continuing with his rant.

When he finished his food Jaskier was still rambling so he took a moment to look at his companion; the companion who has cornflower blue eyes that beam whenever Geralt brings him small gifts like lute strings or oils for his collection, who has hands that he fidgets with when he's nervous and shake when he's inspired to write something but too busy too get his book out, who's smile never fails to make Geralts world brighter even after seeing it for a decade, who's words still leave him speechless when he talks about something he likes because goddamn Jaskier knows how to treat each word with such gentleness that it could melt his heart, who sings away his sorrows and helps Geralt remember what happiness and joy feel like whenever he talks, the companion who has stayed by his side through ups and downs, and the companion that Geralt found himself loving more every single day.

He snaps out of his lovestruck haze when he smells the foul stench of fear and worry.

Looking up to see Jaskier reading through the contract with a frown on his face before looking up and sighing "Beloved, are you sure this is safe? I mean I know you're strong enough and trust your judgement but this sounds very dangerous and as much as I like having coin I wouldn't want to ruin my clothes, which were very expensive mind you, by going to drag you out of whatever hole you fell in and thats-"

He stops when Geralt gives him a fond look, "Jask I'll be fine, it's not that hard, I'll be back by daybreak" He rumbles out, seeing how it visibly affects his bard, making him shiver in place and gulp roughly, causing him swallow out of the sudden dryness in his throat.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head before getting up to grab everything he needs for his hunt, not looking over at Jaskiers direction on purpose because he needs to be focused.

He can feel Jaskiers eyes on him the entire time and can basically taste the worry radiating off him like the stench of a kikimora but he doesn't have time to calm him down. Even if Jaskier is the love of his life, his soulmate, his everything, he can't put his focus on anything else other than the monster of he'll be too slow.

Just as he's heading out the door he feels two arms wrap around his stomach and Jaskier press himself as close as their bodies allow him too. Geralt feels his heart stop, just as he feels his lungs collapse from emotion, his brain not capable of processing that for the first time in all the years he's been alive someone is holding him, someone fears that he may never come back and that scares them. He can feel Jaskiers heart accelerate just as he can feel his own.

"Please be careful, dear heart" Jaskier whispers, sounding like a wife saying goodbye to her husband who's about to go save his kingdom in the battlefield. It makes him feel special, wanted, 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙.

He takes a moment to calm both himself and his heart before humming softly in confirmation, "I'll be back by daybreak, I promise, little lark" He quietly grumbles back, not used to having to express his emotions through words.

Jaskier seems satisfied with his answer and let's him go, not before leaving a kiss on Geralts shoulder blade, even if it was covered with armor Geralt felt the kiss in his soul and it gave him more of a reason to come back to his little lark.

He walks out of their room and towards the stables, setting up roach for the long night of monster hunting ahead of them. He let's out a small smile and gently pats her nose to which she huffs and pushes against his hand, making him chuckle softly, "let's go girl" and with that they take off, not knowing that this night might end with something neither him or Roach had planned.

~

He doesn't know how it happened.

One moment he was landing the killing strike and the next he was on the ground, a gash made from its horns going right along his chest to his ribs.

He knows he's too weak too get up and without his potions, which were shattered mid battle he has nothing to do but wait.

He starts thinking about everything he's every done. Kind of ironic since they say your life flashes before your eyes as you take your last breath. To him it sure feels like it.

He thinks back to when his mother left him on the road for Vesimir to find and train as a Witcher. How much he had to endure during the trails just to end up alone in the end.

Alone? That's not right; he has Jaskier now. Jaskier who's probably worried sick back in their room, who even when Geralt has looked more beast than man has smiled at him, not showing any fear even when Geralt spat nasty words at him to get him to leave, who even after Geralt hurt him, came back because he wanted to, because he wanted Geralt to be the person he spends his life with.

Geralt had never felt more joy than being with Jaskier when they would travel together, his bard chattering like always while Geralt listened, listened because he cared and loved everything about Jaskier.

From the way his eyes crinkle with happiness when he sees something pretty, to when he taps his fingers to a beat when composing his next song.

He knows Jaskier will move on, his bard is one of the strongest and most courageous person he has ever had the luck of meeting.

His little lark will find someone else who can always be there for him, not having to worry about dying every minute, and that Geralt thinks, is how it should be. He let's a small tear slip as he's falling unconscious, not worried in the slightest because he knows that his lark will learn to fly again, even without him.

~

When he woke up again there was someone screaming and a monster weakly roaring.

It turns out that the fiend was still alive and that Jaskier was trying to distract it, that dumb bard was trying to distract a fucking flesh eating monster without a sword to protect himself.

Geralt doesn't know what fueled him but the next thing he knows is that Jaskier throws his lute far away, catching the fiends attention long enough for Geralt to get close enough to slice it's head clean off.

After he collapses, Jaskier being faster and catching the Witcher in his arms. He can feel jaskier shaking and something wet splashing on his face.

"Jask- Jaskier?" He rasped out after jaskier forced one of his potions down his throat, him already feeling the effects of the potion healing him.

Jaskier shushes him, snifling softly while rocking them both back and forth, "You stupid, stupid Witcher, I told you to be careful" He whispered while holding Geralt to his chest, in an awkward position too.

Then Geralt realizes something; his lark is listening to his heart. This hits Geralt harder than it should but it does, his lark was so afraid of losing him that he wanted to lay his head on top of Geralts heart. As if listening to the beat made everything better.

This realization made something warm spread throughout Geralts chest. He lifted his arm and hugged his bard back as much as he could, softly stroking through his hair.

"It's okay little lark, I'm here, you can let it out" He whispered, knowing that Jaskier was holding back his tears and even if he couldn't bear the thought of his lark crying, he had to let him get the grief off his chest before they could walk back to their room.

As if on cue, Jaskier started to sob, gripping tightly onto Geralts chest plates as if he thought that if he let go, Geralt would disappear.

After a while, they got up and headed back to the inn with the proof of the monster being dead, Jaskiers destroyed lute, and whatever they could salvage from the fiend.

After they got to their room and had a bath is when Geralt realized what happened to Jaskiers lute. He softly put his hand on top of Jaskiers, which was stroking his now dirty lute.

"You shouldn't have risked your life like that for me, jask" He whispered softly, looking down at the dirty lute and wincing, because be knew this was his fault. Jaskier on the other hand seemed offended by that comment, "No no, you do not get to play that card with me Witcher, you almost died out there and I wasn't just going to sit around and watch you die like that" He said in defiance, his face twisting into a frown that only made him cuter in Geralts eyes.

"You love that lute like a child, little lark" He spoke quietly as if afraid to get Jaskier mad at him. At his words, Jaskier softened,

"So that's what this is about huh?" He asked in a softer tone, "Geralt, while it is true that I love this lute a lot, it is replaceable and there are so many just like this one all over the world." He turned to look at Geralt, letting the lute lean on the bed frame as he took Geralts hands in his. Which left Geralt breathless at the softness, he never experienced something so intimate and his brain almost went into shut down mode before he managed to calm himself down.

Jaskier gazed into Geralts eyes, letting him see all the love and adoration he felt for his dear Witcher, "The reason I love this lute so much, is because you gave it to me, darling" He smiled, his thumb rubbing Geralts hands soothingly as he felt his lungs collapse from how hard those words punched him.

"What? " He breathed out, unable to form a clear sentence in his daze.

"Granted, you didn't directly give it to me, but it's a reminder of the first adventure we went on together" He paused and squared his shoulders leaning in to press his forehead against Geralts, and softly, sweetly, and so gently that Geralt thought he might collapse he said, "A reminder of when I started to fall in love with you, my white wolf"

And with that sentence everything became clear, after four decades of traveling together, everything made sense. He knew now that he wasn't alone on this boat of love, softly drifting with the current through calm waters, watching as the sun sets and the flowers bloom.

He leaned in, closing the gap between them, sharing the sweetest kiss he'd ever been given and that when he knew that even if they had their ups and downs, close calls, and awkward moments; they would both rely on each other and learn to fly together, because in the end, his little lark still had a lot to learn about life, and he would be there to teach him every step of the way.

Taglist: @binkysteebnpewter @andyl394 @fuzzy-cloud-head-queen @nightunite @punof-agun @sc4rletw1tch @timelords-13 @likubuju @bonkyboinkybucky @bombshellbella @subtlewriter @ashleefo @mori-senpai @klinenovakwinchester

[tobiomlk]

those tsukki fluff hcs? i am LIVING. could i get general dating hcs for tobio? 👉👈 good luck with your blog - 🐸

— kageyama as your boyfriend

LISTEN kageyama has a condition where brain is filled by (2) things: volleyball and food. relationships? that doesn’t exists. you’re gonna need either a miracle or a saint’s patience to get anywhere with this nerd, whichever works best for you.

i hope you’re well aware that your luck is on a negative count from the get-go, since 1) his knowlodge about romance is next to none and 2) he’s dense as fuck. even if he’s the one to develop feelings first, he wouldn’t act on those any sooner because he doesn’t even gets what’s going on. he just goes ( ??? ) whenever you smile at him and there’s this funny feeling around his ribcage and he’s 100% sure it’s hunger. so, unless you have the guts to fess up first… get ready to simp over this boy for the longest time.

that or until his teammates ( namely, suga ) do a divine intervention ‘cause damn, he’s so grossly in love, and if kageyama was already in the dark we fucking lost him, because what does it means to be in love??? that’s not a position or a game tactic as far as he’s concerned.

he even goes as far as to seek the textbook definition on dictionaries and spiel to himself like a damned mantra in the hopes he’ll get it but guess what? he doesn’t. if anything, he just further confused with the poor intent of describing such abstract concept with big words.

the whole process of realization is so agonizing and infuriatingly slow, it has gotten to the point where all da fucking team is up to date with the tragedy and they’re even making bets as to how it’s going to end ( tanaka and noya are putting all their money to kageyama not ever knowing about his feelings, ennoshita and the third-graders still have a bit of hope for their son. the first-graders are just enjoying the shitshow. )

but when it finally hits him… that there’s no better place than the one by your side and he couldn’t possibly have it otherwise… then it’s over for both of you.

once tobio is set his way, there’s no stopping him. hell, he might as well blurt it out as soon as he sees you, for all he cares. “it seems like i’ve fallen in love with you”.

but now you returning his feelings??? the most unrealistic and unlikiest scenario. his monkey brain definitively didn’t think out this far and now he’s in shambles. you’ve to spent half of an hour explaining to him that, all of it apparently means that you can be “a couple or something” and you can literally see his braincells combusting through his eyes.

are you going to clown him for his confession for the rest of his life? yes. do you hold the moment close to your heart regardless? Yes You Do.

needless to say, kageyama as a partner is awfully awkward. the boy’s barely familiar with platonic relationships, dating it’s like walking blindfolded onto unknown territory. he’s going to need you to teach him the ropes !!! ( not that you’re complaining, of course you’re not complaining )

being as unapproachable and volleyball-crazy as he’s known to be, i think many people depict kageyama as someone who doesn’t fully invests himself onto his social relations, especially the non-platonic field; because yes, to kageyama, volleyball comes first and foremost, but he’s just as devoted and earnest when it comes to his teammates and friends, and more importantly, you. once there’s something that means a lot to kageyama, he’ll give everything he has to offer, and you aren’t the exception to the rule.

while volleyball still takes most of his time and that won’t change under no circumstances, you can tell he does his best to spend the scarce time he has to spare with you. juggling between his passion and his loved one is not an easy task, but kageyama knew what he was applying himself for and there’s no way he’ll be half-assing, no sir!

at the very least, he always makes sure to walk you home. even if that means he’ll have to return afterwards to the gym, because he always trains ‘til very late and there’s no way he’s gonna keep you waiting that long for him ( you keep telling him it’s fine, that you don’t mind waiting, but he doesn’t relents “no. im taking you home first, then practice. and that’s final. now come here, dumbass.” )

he also calls you every single night before heading to sleep! he can’t stay long on the phone because he needs to go to bed early for morning practice, but just being able to hear your voice… to know about you and your day… is more than enough for him.

honestly it never fails to melt your heart when he begins talking in this raspy, low voice and you can tell he’s sleepy by the way he mumbles his words so you tell him that it’s ok for him to go to sleep now but he just shakes his head in spite of the fact you can’t see him and goes like “i still have a couple of minutes left. i want to hear your voice.” like honestly GET FUCKED !!!!!! HE’S SO LOVELY I’M-

kageyama understands if you have different interests and things you’re passionated about ( in fact, he’ll even try it out just so he can something to share with you! ), but, truly, nothing would make this blueberry as happier than you showing the tiniest bit of interest into volleyball. sometimes, the topic creeps onto your talk and unavoidably, tobio switchs to full nerd mode and starts geeking out about the matches and stuff and he’s just so giddy about it but then he freezes, and realizes he might be info-dumping you about something you probably don’t even care about, so he kinda cuts himself before going on… but the look of sheer happiness he offers you when you encourage him to go on? how his big, doe-eyes lit up once you ask him to explain you more carefully? can you possibly fathom how joyous it makes him to know he can get the best of his favorite things together?

to be honest, you’d expect him to be less considerate and act more fit of the self-centered, entitled king role he has been granted— not saying that he doesn’t slips and has his bossy moments of no filter, because he does, but the thing is: he’s surprisingly open to your opinions, too. over time, he’s been taught that communication is of utmost importance and the only way to understand others and have them understand you, and he’s firmly sure that applies to every aspect of his life. he wants you to know that, just as he speaks his mind, you’re free to do the same.

it’s ok if you argue, it’s ok if your points of view don’t match, because that means you’re talking to each other, and that’s way better than letting things sink without actual closure. kageyama learnt that the rough way. his speech might not be the most articulated or refinated, but he tries his best to get his points accross without unecessarily hurting your feelings. communication is so crucial to him, please, keep it in mind.

with that being said, kageyama’s prone to be unromantic and even insensitive at times with how he voices his opinions, because he’s no concept of sugar-coating and won’t hesitate to tell you if you suck at something, or flawlessly ignore your efforts to put on a lovey-dovey mood. but if you talk him about it and express that you’d like him to have some more tact, he’ll take the note! “tact? ok, ok. i’ll.  try to be as tactful as possible from now on and… read the mood? but i make no promises” ( spoiler alert: he keeps telling you that you suck but now he lets you have a sip of his milk and pets your head to soften the blow. )

and speaking of physical affection… god, kageyama is an utter stranger to pda. i mean, the boy is just a prude, unripe blueberry. he doesn’t know how it works, he’s not used to it, and the last thing he wants is to go and do something that’ll put you on a tough spot. your comfort is one of his main priorities, so you have to let him know what’s ok and whatnot, then he’ll start getting the hang of it. once he does, you’ll find out that kageyama is, as a matter of fact, one of the most touch-starved persons you’ll come accross with.

he just can’t seem to get his hands off of you, in the most literal and non-sensual way possible. be it small gestures like your hands brushing together, shoulders bumping, or your heads resting against each others’, kageyama just craves the feeling of your skin against his. despite how bad he denies it, he’s pretty clingy.

you’ve picked on how much he apparently enjoys holding hands, and petting your head, for that matter. you don’t know why, but his hand would always makes its way atop your head. it has even gotten to the point in where he does it out of habit, and when you ask him what’s wrong he just replies “nothing? why do you ask?”

i think kageyama has two stages while he’s on a relationship. the earlier ones, where he cannot lock eyes with you for more than give seconds before going all blushy and stiff, and the advanced ones, in where physical contact has practically become a must and one of his primary functions as a human being to operate naturally.

kageyama’s hugs are so freaking awkward at first… there’s no guides about this. does he just envelops you with his arms ??? and then stay still like that ??? what if he hurts you by holding you too tight ??? oh my god he’s even holding his breath while he’s at it SOMEONE FREE HIM-

and don’t even get me started on the kisses. LISTEN YOU DEFINITIVELY CLASH YOUR TEETH DURING YOU FIRST KISS AND YOU ABSOLUTELY CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND ON THIS ONE !!!!! knowing him, he needs weeks of mental preparation and advice from his god-send suga-senpai before going for it, and when the moment comes… he goes too hard for literally no reason and right after you’re both on the floor whimpering ‘cause that shit HURTED.

“ow, ow… tobio WHAT the HELL” “oh, PISS OFF”

well, at least he has an excuse for rehearsing!!! don’t worry, he’s a fast-learner ;))))

cuddling is just about the same you guys spend all day squirming in order to find a comfortable position and it’s just a mess™ of limbs and giggles.

“wait… maybe if i put my arm around here…” “wait, tobio, you’re tickling me-” “??? don’t laugh !!! STOP LAUGHING THIS IS NOT FUNNY”

but once you finally manage to settle down, god, it’s so pure… kageyama loves to have you in his beefy, setter arms as much as he loves being hold by you. the crook of your neck? a heavingly place for him to rest his head and which belongs to him and him only !!!

look kageyama is so weak for physical affection i’m not even kidding. all you need to calm him down is to rub his back soothingly and he’ll even forget why he was so mad about to begin with. the amount of power you hold over this boy… it genuinely surprises people to see how tame he’s when it comes to you. everyone can agree that if kageyama has a weakness, that’s you.

tobio is not the one to get particularly cheesy or romantic, everyone knows at least that much. however, he has this thing in where he genuinely voices out how great he considers you to be without batting an eyelash which of course makes you super flustered because “why are you getting so cheeky for?” “??? it’s the truth though” SHUT UP IM SOBBING.

you know how slow and oblivious your boy is, so the last thing you expect is him being able to read you as easily? it takes its sweet time, but within the years, kageyama steadily learns to understand you and how do you operate. your habits, your body language, what makes you happy or upset, he knows all of it. he can tell when something’s off just from a glance, yet he’s so nonchalant about it— like it’s obvious to know what’s on your mind. now, does he know how to act knowing this? not really, but give him props, he tries his best!

with all that has happened to him, it should come as no surprise the fact kageyama can get pretty insecure in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t trusts or you ( god, the boy could trust you with his life ), but you can’t blame him for letting his insecurities get the best of him. he’s just so, so afraid… that one day you’ll notice how unlikeable he truly is and you end up leaving him, like most of the people have done to him in his life…

tobio desesperately needs the reasurrance, the words of affirmation, to bask on the feeling of knowing he’s so deeply loved, and that he’s no such thing as an unlovable person. i hope you let him know that, just as he lets you know how grateful he’s for having you in his life.

all in all, kageyama can be a blunt, awkward and more than a bit dense partner, but he’s striving to become a better version of himself day by day, so, he secretely wishes you’ll put up with him a little longer.

[anylessreal]

Hey! I’ve been spending quarantine re reading you watched me sink and I remembered you had this little ask about how hl are in the future and I just basically died with fluff again skdjsjs so I was wondering if you hs anything else in mind for them, or if you could write something short about hl and walter the dog? thank you so much anyway, ywms is one of my favourite fica ever 💗

Hiiii! I took a break from my WIP and wrote you something! It’s complete fluff but I hope you like it! 💖😚 Here’s the post about their future if anyone wants it!

—

“And that’s how I grew up thinking cereal was a vegetable,” Harry concludes with a snort as they turn onto the end of their street.

Louis just shakes his head in disbelief before his tongue darts out to swipe a line along the edge of his ice cream cone.

“I can’t believe I married you,” he says, and not in a good way. “Walter, why didn’t you warn me your dad only had two braincells before I put a ring on him?”

“Hey,” Harry frowns as Walter glances towards Louis from where he’s ambling along on the pavement between them, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “I thought you knew I only had two.”

“I mean, I always suspected,” Louis starts, throwing Harry his own serious look that ends up dissolving into quiet, teasing giggles. If Harry didn’t have their dog’s lead wrapped around one hand and his own ice cream cone gripped in his other, he’d give Louis a pinch in the bum.

“You’re the one who asked me,” Harry points out. “If you really suspected, you didn’t have to go through with the whole proposal and the wedding and the marrying me ordeal.”

“It was a pity proposal,” Louis tells him. “I knew no one on this earth could love you the way I could, so I went ahead and did it myself.”

“No one on this earth?” Harry asks. “So, like, if I teleported back to my home planet…?”

“You’d have a line of little green alien suitors waiting at your door,” Louis nods. “Yes.”

“And instead, I’m stuck with you,” Harry sighs wistfully as they reach the driveway leading up to the quaint house they’d bought together almost two years ago, just a few months after their wedding. Knowing it’s the end of their walk, Walter automatically starts slowing down, his mission accomplished, his adventure over. Harry drops his lead, lets him drag it the rest of the way up their driveway, past their cars, past his motorcycle, while he and Louis bring up the rear.

“Tired, buddy?” Louis calls out to their dog as Walter takes a patient seat in front of the gate to their back garden. “Old age creeping up on you?”

“Don’t say that,” Harry chides, giving Louis’ arm a light bump with the back of his hand. “He’s seven. He’s middle-aged.”

“He looks like a little old wizard though.”

“Leave his beard alone,” Harry shakes his head. “You said we should let it grow out and stop trimming it, and now you’re teasing him for it.”

Louis ignores him. “Oh, Walter the Wise, will you show me the way to Mordor?” he asks, pitching his voice so it draws Walter’s attention, their dog’s head cocking to the side, his scraggly ears perking up. “What’s that you say? We shall not pass?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Harry tells their dog as they reach the gate. He bends to give Walter a good scratch behind the ears and unclip his walking harness as Louis undoes the gate latch. “He’s just jealous I give you all the cuddles.”

“No, you give me plenty of cuddles,” Louis notes. “I just think he looks like he’s studied a thousand ancient tomes and could probably open a portal to the underworld if he wanted to.”

“You’re so weird,” Harry huffs with a shake of his head. “Come on, Walty. Inside.”

Their dog trots into their back garden, his furry butt wiggling from side to side as he disappears around the back of the house. Louis shuts the gate behind them, wraps his arm around Harry’s waist, and draws him against his side as he sinks his teeth into his ice cream cone with an audible crunch.

“Thank you for doing that right in my ear,” Harry deadpans. “So sweet of you.”

“You’re welcome,” Louis mumbles around a mouthful. “Thanks for the ice cream, baby.”

“My pleasure.”

“Why does it look like you’ve barely eaten any?” Louis asks, noticing how full Harry’s cone still is. “Are you even trying?”

“I’m savoring it,” Harry shrugs before he swirls his tongue rather suggestively around the melting top scoop.

“You don’t have to eat it like that,” Louis sighs.

Harry goes down on the top of it, lips sealing around the ice cream, sliding down to the rim of the cone and pulling back up with a slurping noise. He licks the very top, bats his eyelashes innocently. “Like what?”

Louis just taps the end of the cone and mushes the ice cream into Harry’s upper lip and nose. Some of it definitely goes up a nostril. Harry can’t stand him.

“Come here,” he says as Louis scampers away from him, wicked grin on his face. He licks what he can off his lip, not quite able to reach his nose.

“You’ve got a little something,” Louis says as he walks backwards to the back door, pointing to his own nose to indicate what’s left. “Just up there.”

“Where?” Harry asks following him onto their cracked brick patio.

“Like, right here,” Louis says, almost tripping over one of their garden chairs. He grabs it and sets it between them to hold Harry up. “I can go inside and get you a mirror if you’d like?”

“Or you could help me yourself,” Harry says, stepping over the chair.

“Fucking long legs,” Louis sighs with a shake of his head. “That’s okay. You stay here. I’ll take Walter inside and make sure he–”

“Lou,” Harry cuts him off, the corner of his mouth stretching into a crooked smirk. “I have the key.”

“Shit.”

“Come here,” Harry tries to coax him forward as he corners Louis on the two steps leading up to their back door. Walter’s already sitting on the platform, trying to figure out what’s taking his dads so long to let him inside.

Louis’ back hits the railing.

“Do not even think about it,” he warns, holding out his free hand and setting it against Harry’s abdomen. “Harry fucking Tomlinson-Styles.”

“What?” Harry grins, crowding into his husband’s space.

“Don’t you dare.”

But Harry drops Walter’s lead at their feet, cups the back of Louis’ head, and gives him a big, wet, sticky smooch, making sure to press his nose right into the side of his cheek.

“Mmm,” he hums obnoxiously as Louis pushes him back. “Mint chocolate chip.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’ve got something on your cheek.”

“I know,” Louis nods, and then he goes and takes Harry’s face and wipes his cheek right against his own before setting their lips together again, arm curling around the back of his neck.

He really does taste like mint chocolate chip. Harry presses him back against the corner of the railing that meets their house, Louis’ shoulder hitting the outer wall. He’s pretty sure they have some spider webs back there, but he’s not about to break the kiss to let Louis know.

“This is really sticky,” Louis murmurs against his lips, the wrinkling of his nose felt against the side of Harry’s. He still licks over Harry’s bottom lip though, still slots their mouths together, still hitches his leg up try and draw Harry closer like he’s not about to let him go.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” is all Harry remarks before slides his free hand from Louis’ hip all the way around his lower back, Louis curving into him.

And then the dog barks.

“Oops,” mutters Louis, sheepishly releasing Harry from his hold to peer around him at their dog still waiting to go inside. “Sorry, bud.”

“Always such a cockblock,” Harry sighs, reaching into his pocket for his set of keys. “One of these days, I’ll teach you how to unlock a door all on your own.”

“Good luck,” Louis snorts. He chomps down on the last bit of his ice cream cone, nodding towards Harry’s as he chews. “’S melting.”

“I know,” Harry says, giving it a quick lick as he jams the key into the lock. He twists it, pushes the door in, and watches as Walter hurries inside to lap from his water dish, his feet slipping all over the tiled floor. When he looks back at Louis, he catches sight of the giant smear of ice cream drying along the side of his face.

“What?” Louis asks, watching Harry’s grin turn into a soft chuckle as Harry averts his gaze and stares down at his feet.

“Nothing,” he says with a small shake of his head. “Just admiring your beauty, is all.”

Louis rolls his eyes, knees him right in the arse as he slips past him to get to the open door. “If you think I don’t fucking know there’s still ice cream on my face, you’re truly an idiot.”

“I love you,” is all Harry says, as if that should be enough to appease him.

It is. His face softens, his shoulders relax. He even waits inside for Harry.

“You too,” he says like it pains him to admit it before he begrudgingly steals another kiss from him. “You and all two of your braincells.”

[bangtaninink]

closer by ravyn lenae, taehyung, sugar daddy au 🥵

Here’s the song!

You stare down at your phone, too distracted by your most recent text from Taehyung to focus on the rest of the lecture. Thursday is the day after tomorrow, and you have absolutely no idea what you need to be doing to get ready for it.

“Don’t forget, next week is the due date for your midterm papers, everyone,” Professor Kang announces, organising his notes. “Tomorrow will be your last chance to grovel for an extension.”

The laughter in the theatre brings you back to reality, coming to just as Professor Kang dismisses the class.

“What’d he say?” you ask Jinah next to you, packing up your stuff.

“He just reminded us that our paper’s due next week. Weren’t you listening?” Jinah replies, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nope.”

“Typical.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “It’s a wonder how you’re one of the best students when you hardly ever pay attention. Meanwhile, I’m here, going to every damn lecture, and still struggling to pass everything. I’m stealing your notes later.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“You going to work now?”

“Yeah,” you reply, sighing. “Eunseok better not be there again, or I swear to God, I’m quitting.”

“I’ll be praying for you,” Jinah says, laughing. “Alright. I gotta go. See you at home.”

                                                      〰️

“Your change comes to 10,000 Won,” you say, handing money back to the customer. “Who was ne–”

Taehyung smiles at you as he steps up to the counter, hands tucked comfortably into the pockets of his slacks.

“Hello…” He leans forward slightly, making a show of looking down at your name badge. “_____.” You press your lips together, holding back laughter.

“Hi,” you say. “What can I get for you?”

“Mmm, I’ll have a mocha frappuccino, with extra whipped cream.” Taehyung looks over his shoulder at the man standing behind him, looking off to the side, earpiece curling around the shell of his right ear. “You want anything, Jeongguk?”

“Oh. Uh. Sure,” Jeongguk says. “I’ll have an Americano, iced, with an extra shot, thank you, _____.”

“A mocha frappuccino and an Americano,” you repeat. “Would you like anything else today… sir?”

You feel smug, watching Taehyung’s eyebrow twitch, almost laughing at the expression on Jeongguk’s face as he overhears.

“That’ll be all, thank you,” Taehyung replies, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a thin leather wallet. He looks down at the display in front of the register, pulling out a single, crisp fifty-thousand Won note. “Keep the change, angel.”

He sends you a wink before he walks over to a table with Jeongguk following right behind, eyes undoubtedly turning his way as people stare, wondering why the sole heir of Bangtan Enterprises is getting his coffee at a cafe that is no where near Gangnam.

Lazy steps signal Yoongi stepping out of the back room to join you at the counter, default straight face slowly turning into slight annoyance.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

“Kim Taehyung is here, boss man,” Hoseok says, singsongy. 

“What? Why?”

“Who knows? Who cares? He’s at our cafe.”

“What’d he order?”

“Uhh…” Hoseok looks over your shoulder, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder. “A mocha frappuccino with extra whipped cream, and an iced Americano with an extra shot of coffee. Three guesses which drink is for who?”

“Whichever one of you is making his drinks, make sure it’s good. We don’t need to be roasted and dragged through the mud during his next press conference,” Yoongi says, already shuffling back to return to the back office.

“Hey, Yoongi?” you ask; he hums in response. “He paid with a fifty-thousand Won bill and told me to keep the change. Just so you know.”

“Wh– that’s like forty-thousand Won,” Hoseok says, gawking at the money in your hand.

“He’s not gonna take it back, I don’t think.”

“Um.” Yoongi looks down at the money, scratching his head as he is, for once, taken aback. “What… are we supposed to try and give it back?”

“I mean,” you say. “We can try, but I don’t think he’ll take it.”

“Yeah, and besides: what’s forty-thousand Won to one of the richest guys in the country?” Hoseok says, grinning.

“Just–” Yoongi sighs, glancing down once more at the money, then back up to you and Hoseok. “Make his drinks. Don’t keep him waiting.”

You shrug, saying, “you’re the boss.”

“And bring them out to him, _____.”

“Wh–”

“What, you’re gonna make the Kim Taehyung collect his drinks? Like… like some sort of pleb?” Hoseok says, eyes wide. “You’re insane. I told you college was rotting your brain, girl.”

You snort and walk to the other end of the counter, getting to work on making Taehyung’s drinks.

You’re in the middle of extracting shots of coffee when the door to the cafe opens, and a loud group of people walk in, with very little care for the rest of the patrons around.

Of course one of them has to be Eunseok.

Hoseok busily takes the group’s orders while you finish up on Taehyung’s drinks, dreading the moment you have to take them to his table when you notice Eunseok and the rest of his friends sit themselves down on tables between the counter and Taehyung, leaving you with no choice but to walk past them.

“All done?” Hoseok asks, coming over to you to get to work on the next batch of orders.

“Yeah,” you say. “Hey, Seok. How would you like to be the one to deliver Kim Taehyung’s drinks to him personally?”

“Nope,” Yoongi interrupts; you and Hoseok flinch.

“What th– I thought you went to the back!”

“I figured I should probably stay here and make sure you guys don’t mess up a billionaire’s coffee. Anyway. You take the drinks out, _____.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the prettiest face in this cafe right now. We need to make a good impression.”

“Uh, one: I’m offended, but two: I agree,” Hoseok says. “Knowing me, I’m gonna choke and trip on air. It’s probably for the best that you do it.”

You sigh quietly, but reach for a tray to carry the drinks over on.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Yoongi says, hand on your arm to stop you. You watch, confused when he walks over to the cake display case, taking a slice of the strawberry shortcake and the chocolate cake, placing it down onto the tray too.

“Uh, I don’t think he’ll–” you start.

“_____. He could drive this cafe to the ground with one bad word. Our jobs depend on this.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go. Jeez.”

You snort and shake your head, laughing as you walk away from the counter. The laughter dies down, however, when you remember what – or rather, who – you’ll need to pass to get to Taehyung, and you steel yourself, avoiding eye contact.

Despite your best efforts, you don’t make it through without a hiccup.

Fortunately for you, you catch the way Eunseok sticks his foot out in an attempt to trip you with a full tray. You still trip, but by some grace of God, you manage to not spill anything. You don’t realise you’d been holding in a breath until you’re standing upright again, feeling your heart pounding as Eunseok and his friends laugh loudly.

As usual, Taehyung doesn’t miss a thing.

“Jeez. Watch where you’re going, you klutz,” Eunseok cries as you continue to walk over to Taehyung’s table. “You could’ve spilled drinks all over Kim Taehyung.” His laughter stops immediately as he realises what he’d just said. “K-Kim Taehyung?”

“You alright?” Taehyung asks quietly, eyebrows furrowed as you set down his and Jeongguk’s drinks.

“Hmm? Yeah, no I’m good. It’s just Eunseok,” you reply, shrugging and feigning nonchalance.

“Just Eunseok,” Jeongguk replies. “That sounds sus. Want me to beat him up?”

“No, Jeongguk. It’s fine.” You chuckle softly. “Don’t ruin your suit. I actually really like this one.”

“See? I was right. All black is the way to go, sir. Even _____ agrees.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to let go of what happened, and you notice this, quick to step and block his view as he tries to glance over at Eunseok’s table.

“Don’t,” you say. “You’re gonna do something crazy. I can see it in your eyes. Just leave it. He’s just an idiot who’s been tackled in rugby too many times. He’s got three braincells left – tops.” Jeongguk snorts, almost choking on a sip of coffee. “Just enjoy your coffee and free cake.”

“Dibs on the chocolate one,” Jeongguk says, already pulling the plate closer to himself.

Taehyung is quiet, before exhaling through his nose with restrained frustration and looking up at you.

“Alright,” he says. “If you say so. Thank you, petal.”

“Call out if you need anything else.”

                                                      〰️

“Who the fuck is that?” Yoongi asks quietly, clearly having seen everything, judging by the scowl on his face.

“Just some idiot that’s been trying to make my life a living hell since freshman year. No biggie,” you say, shrugging and putting the tray down on the counter.

“‘No bigg–’? _____, he just tried to trip you!”

“Yeah, so?”

“So?” Hoseok cries, slamming down a plastic cup on the bench. “_____.”

“Guys. Just leave him. There are bigger problems in the world than an idiot with a 2.1 GPA.”

Yoongi sighs.

“Fine. How was Mr. Kim?” he asks.

“He was alright. He didn’t bite my head off, if that’s what you were expecting. I didn’t melt into a puddle in the awesome of his presence either.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t,” Hoseok says with a nod, impressed.

“He’s a human being, Seok. Not an alien,” you reply, laughing.

“Eh. Could’ve fooled me.”

                                                     〰️

“Hi. Excuse me.”

Eunseok turns with a confused sound, scowl etched on his features, until he realises the person who has called for his attention is Taehyung. He starts to cough, coffee trickling down his throat the wrong way.

“H-hi. Hello. Yes. Kim Taehyung, sir,” he says, clearing his throat. The girl beside him nudges his side as a violent reminder, and Eunseok stands, bowing his head.

“What’s your name?” Taehyung asks, taking a loud sip of his drink.

“L-Lee Eunseok!”

“Eunseok, huh? Are you a student at the university near here too?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“What’s your major?”

“Ah, I’m… kind of between majors right now. Just tryin’ to find the right one for me, ya know?” (Jeongguk snorts, turning to look out the window to not make his distaste obvious.) “But I’m the soccer of the captain team! I-I mean… captain of the soccer team.”

“I-I’m on the soccer team too, sir!” one of Eunseok’s friends pitches in, leaning forward for Taehyung to see.

“I see,” Taehyung says, rolling his cup around in his hand. “And the girl who served me my coffee?”

“Who, _____?” Eunseok scoffs. “She’s just some nerd who spends all her time getting on lecturers’ ‘good sides’ and volunteers at some stupid animal shelter. Hardly worth your time or attention, sir.”

“Is that right?”

“She’s, like, top of the class or somethin’,” one of the girls at the table says, rolling her eyes. “And she’s on scholarship or whatever. What a snooze.”

“I take it you guys aren’t fans of hers,” Taehyung says, eyebrow arched.

“Well, yeah. She ratted out Eunseok oppa for cheating on his mid term paper and final exam in sophomore year. But, like… he only cheated because if he didn’t pass his classes, he wasn’t gonna be let onto the team anymore. He barely made it on that year.”

Taehyung sees Jeongguk press his fist to his lips, disguising more laughter as a restrained cough. Taehyung agrees wholeheartedly with his bodyguard, but remains calm.

“Hey, uh, Mister Kim Taehyung, sir,” Eunseok says. “What brings you out here anyway?”

“Hmm? Oh. Just… passing through. I don’t get to visit this side of Seoul very often, and I had some time to kill,” Taehyung replies with a small shrug. “Anyway. We should get going, I think. I should get back to work.”

“No, yeah, of course! Right!” Taehyung thinks Eunseok’s head could fall off with how much he’s nodding. “I-It was really nice to meet you, sir.”

Jeongguk is the first to stand, adjusting his suit jacket before stepping aside to let Taehyung walk ahead of him. 

Taehyung gives the table a nod and a smile, before approaching to counter.

Hoseok, manning the counter, freezes, eyes wide.

“Hello. Hoseok, was it? I’d like to ask, if I can: were you the one who made our coffee today?” Taehyung asks.

“Uh… it was mostly _____, but I’ll take some credit if you’d like,” Hoseok replies, laughing.

“Seok, don’t forget to refill the paper cups as w–” Yoongi stops, mid sentence, noticing Taehyung at the counter.

“Hi there. You are…?” Taehyung says, head tilting slightly.

“U-um… Min Yoongi. I’m the manager here. Sir.”

“Ah, the manager! Well then, thank you for the hospitality. I’m sure I speak on my and Jeongguk’s behalf when I say that the coffee was great. I’ll be sure to recommend this cafe to my friends if they ever happen to pass by this part of town.”

“Oh my g– wow. Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

“Of course. Is… _____ still here? Hoseok here mentioned that she was the one who made our coffees. I’d like to extend my compliments if I could,” Taehyung says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter.

“Yes, no, of course! Give me a second.” Taehyung watches as Yoongi pokes his head into the back room, yelling out your name. “Hi. Yeah. She’s just here.”

“What?” you ask, clipboard in hand, stepping out to approach the counter and resting against it. “Oh, hey. Were you after something else?”

“No, we’re on our way out, and Jeongguk and I just want to say thank you for the coffee. It was lovely, _____.”

“Oh, no problem. Stop by anytime you’d like. We’ll be here.”

“Agreed,” Hoseok says, nodding.

“Noted.”

Taehyung straightens up, hands still flat on the counter, and you look down to watch his fingers tap against the laminated wood. When you glance up, he has a pensive look on his face, but he doesn’t give you a second to question it before he’s leaning forward, gingerly cradling your chin on his finger and thumb as he kisses you.

You hear gasps, camera shutters going off on phones, people coughing as they choke on sips of coffee and bites of cake, and Hoseok dropping plastic cups behind you.

When he pulls away, he’s smiling, and you roll your eyes and laugh.

“What happened to ‘lowkey’, huh?” you ask, arching a brow.

Taehyung shrugs as he leans back, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks, saying, “changed my mind.” You lock eyes with Jeongguk over Taehyung’s shoulder; he laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Also. You didn’t reply to my text.”

“Wh– I was in a lecture!”

“Ugh. Studying.”

“I’m sorry. Who was the one who cancelled a dinner date because I, quote, ‘needed to finish the term paper, even if it’s not contributing to your final grade’?”

“Oof. She got you there,” Jeongguk says.

“You’re not helping,” Taehyung says, sighing. “Are you okay for Thursday though?”

“Hmm.” You turn around to look at Yoongi, whose eyes resemble marbles. “Am I rostered on for Thursday, Yoongs? Yoongs? Yoongi.”

“Huh? What? What’s up?”

“Am I working on Thursday?” you ask.

“You… uh… um… I… n-no?”

You turn back to Taehyung, shrugging and saying, “guess I’m free for Thursday.”

“Perfect,” Taehyung replies with a grin. “Should I come back and pick you up after your shift today? I’m free after seven.”

“Nah. I’m alright. I have to study tonight.”

“Right. Of course. Well, we should let you guys get back to work then. Call me when you get home so I know your alive, angel.”

“Will do. Have fun with work,” you say. “Bye, Jeongguk!”

“See you later, _____,” Jeongguk says, smiling as he waves.

“Thank you again, Yoongi, Hoseok,” Taehyung says, nodding his head with a smile. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys again soon. Let’s go, Guk.”

“After you.”

Jeongguk steps aside again to let Taehyung walk first, and Taehyung turns on his heels to start walking, only to stop mid-stride. You watch him turn to face the rest of the tables in the cafe with a smile.

“Eunseok.” Your eyes grow wide. Fuck. “Hope everything goes well with your studying, champ. Try not to cheat in the future though. That’s not very cool. Enjoy the rest of your evening, everyone!”

Jeongguk doesn’t even try to hold back his laughter as he holds the door open for Taehyung.