#and im super fucking busy up until the move. i work 3 more days

[despite-everything]

i really pared-down my record collection since i'm moving cross-country, but i'm so emotional about it. i'm moving to new york, so i need to be thoughtful about the small space i'll have, but it's fucking hard! that said, it should only be about $100 to ship the boxes as media mail, so thank god for that. but i culled more than 100 albums in the process...

[stupidnaturals]

.

[zipmode]

your wizards are seriously so awesome tell. me. everything

WOW this ask looks so broken on mobile for some reason but YAYYY YIPPEEEEE WUNCLE WORLD ^_^ surprisingly fleshed out for a world where literally the only two characters I've been able to think up names for are the titular Wuncle and Earnest.

Wait im gonna put this infodump under a read more. Just in case. Yeah it's a long one.

ANYWAYS it's from a concept I came up with some time last year I think? (GOING BACK AFTER LOOKING UP WHEN I FIRST TALKED ABOUT THEM. IT WAS THIS YEAR. LOL.) Earnest is this miserable kid in the 'real' world whose parents died in a ~MYSTERIOUS INCIDENT~. One day out of nowhere their deadbeat uncle Joe (who they barely remember, hasn't seen him since the death of their parents) yanks them into the MAGIC world where he reveals that he and Earnest's mom come from a super long line of extremely powerful wizards, that Earnest's mom only moved to Boring World to be with the cringe fail love of her life or whatever 🙄, and that Earnest should basically come live with him in his AWESOME WIZARD TOWER instead of the STUPID REAL WORLD so they can study under him to become the next great wizard in the family or whatever.

Instead of being super hyped for this opportunity like Joe THINKS is gonna happen, Earnest is like. 'Dude what the fuck? I barely know you. I don't care about this. Take me back. I miss my Nintendo DS.'

To this Wuncle Joe responds 'ohhhh ummmm actually creating a portal to boringland is incredibly difficult and can only occur like once every ten years when the planets align jussst right so basically you're stuck here anyways 😁👍but don't worry it's cool I'm cool we're cool.' And thus begins Earnest's involuntary apprenticeship 👍

Other characters Wuncle World include:

Wuncles' Familar: Wuncle Joe made a deal with this demon essentially stating that in exchange for his soul (after he dies ((a powerful wizards soul is a rare and tasty treat for a demon))) she works for him and basically does whatever. Basically his assistant. Very silly very goofy VERY VERY EVIL. but cant really do any SUPER evil stuff unless joe says so. At least until he dies :). She's capable of shape-shifting and typical demon stuff but her default form looks like this (old drawings <3) vvv

DRYAD KID: a little ways away from Wuncle's Tower, which is surrounded by a dense and super magical forest, is a secret town of various naturey creatures. Dryads, Nymphs, Satyrs, Pixies etc etc etc. Earnest learns about it through the Dryad Kid, who at first is like 'OH FUCK yes new kid in the forest', then Earnest is like 'yeah I moved into the wizard tower. With my uncle. The wizard.' And the Dryad kid is like. '.........ohhhhh 😬 that guy.'

Dryad Kid acts as Earnest's primary guide to the magical realms as well as their first glimpse into the fact that Wuncle Joe isn't just some deadbeat fool, but a public nuisance at best and a malicious force in the realm at worst. If Earnest isn't busy doing stupid wizard shit with their uncle, chances are they're hanging out with Dryad Kid.

HONORABLE CHARACTER MENTIONS (even less flushed out guys but still important):

KING AND PRINCE: king of the big main kingdom. Wuncle Joe's old boss. Also not a great guy but it's less obvious at first. His son is the prince who acts as like. A rival to Earnest before they both realize they're kind of in similar boats and become friends.

WIZARD COUNCIL: grand council of wizards that controls. Well you know. Wizard stuff. Fate of the world shit. They fucking hate Wuncle Joe. Hardasses but not necessarily evil.

EARNEST 'S MOM: very very very powerful wizard. Clearly had some crazy beef with Joe before she died but most of the specifics are unknown to Earnest until later in the plot.

Overall plot is like. Earnest gradually discovering that Wuncle Joe is actually the primary antagonist of this world. They have to Outwizard and Outscheme him before he can destroy everything basically.

Thank you for asking about my wizard world Austin in lives in my head rent free <3 this essentially only scratches the surface of its Whole Deal. But this was already super long LOL

[eluvion]

for the fic writer ask game: 3, 16, 23, 74, 76 (for hope is our four-letter word)? i hope that's not too many lol

love your writing! wishing you joy <3

hi!! this took like a million years so apologies on that!! ive been packing for and moving into college the past few days so i was a little busy but!!!! tysm for the ask love!!!! this did end up like mega long so i put my answers under the cut

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

usually, my fics really start as disconnected snippets in my notes app. i usually sort the notes by fandom, and at some point the snippets kind of amalgamate into something more tangible. then it gets shipped off into a google doc where i basically just work at it (on my computer or my phone) until i have a full fic/chapter. i usually write more emotional scenes on my phone, and it's just a Thing to do in between Real Life Things. then!! once im finished writing i read it over a billion times, read through the dialogue out loud to make sure it sounds natural, and then ask my beta (my beloved @izarie) to edit through. and then after THAT i post it!!

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

right now, i have two main ones that are just sort of revolving around my brain. there's my flinch from roy's pov ted lasso fic, because that made fic me so so sooo insane and sometimes i just cant stop thinking abt scenes where jamie is super inside his own head and what roy is Thinking Abt during that time. here's a bit of that:

Roy wonders, not for the first time, how he kicked Jamie out at the beginning of all this. Jamie had that look on his face—even while he was making Jamie-like complaints and giving Roy shit—like he was going to cry. And Roy just threw his clothes back and forced him to call an Uber and watched him slump around himself from the window. Roy knows better than that. He was raised better than that.  So okay. Maybe Roy gets it, in that context. Jamie holds onto shit that hurts him on the off chance that it will hold him close. And as much as he fucking despises it, that puts him and James Tartt in the same category, that place in Jamie’s head where he keeps the people that could help but choose not to. Roy really doesn’t want to know how many people are in that box.

and a succession post-canon roman-centric fic! it will be like. a little bit ooc just by virtue of having a nice(r) ending because that's how succession Is but you know. this is what i call healing. here's a bit of that:

Kendall’s all teeth. “Fuck you. You're not better. You’ve—you’ve fucking imploded everything you’ve ever done.” “Yeah, ‘cause you're the fuckin’ picture of a success story.” Roman sinks deeper into his seat. Leans into the car window. “Real wolf of fucking Wall Street, getting fucked out of Daddy’s company because you couldn’t play act a real CEO.” Kendall’s hands twitch.  Roman smiles. “What are you gonna do? Hit me about it?”

and also like. forever in my brain is the elektra greek tragedy fic in which i have feelings abt my doomed by the narrative failwife <333

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

i think it was ve schwab who gave the metaphor of a creative well, and that for as much Stuff (art, music, podcasts books, ect) you put in, you get more out. i try to keep my media diet fairly diverse (not just kids shows or serialized tv or classic books, but more of a combination of it all. it really forces me to like. have to break barriers in my mind, as well as like!! keeping audience and tone and all that in my mind while i read/watch/listen.

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

it's hard for me to really place any of the hallmarks of my writing that are super super distinct but!! Time Things are my big tell. ive pretty much always been obsessed with time and like these days there isnt a fic im writing without a big Looking Back component to it. salt pillars and vonnegut and orpheus and lot's wife. iykyk <33

76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of hope is our four-letter word?

i actually do have an extras doc!! it has some yosano and dazai hurt/comfort that i tried v hard to fit into the fic but just didnt fit into the narrative i was telling. here's a snippet of that (usual warnings for dazai-typical suicide attempts):

It’s Yosano that finds him, shivering in the crimson water, watching the blood seep out from his arms.  Yosano opens the door, and she’s more calm than she usually is. She’s a good doctor, infinitely better than Mori, and she knows how much her usual bedside manner would send him spiraling. She eases him out of the water quietly, and gives him a towel.  “Dazai,” she says, stitching the cuts lining his arms. “It wouldn’t have killed me,” he says. “It just nicked a vein.”  She wipes the blood and water away and begins wrapping his usual bandages around his arms. There’s something cold and horrible in him, spreading from his stomach to his bones to every inch of his skin. He wants to rip it all apart, until that emptiness is torn bloody from the rest of him, and that thing, that pain made from scalpel edges and sharper smiles, with all its hooks and too-sweet whispers, to be burned from him, even if it means dying. Especially if it means dying.  Yosano scowls. “Not yet. Dazai…” She doesn’t call him by his first name, because the first time she tried that, when he was in high school and just out of court, he had run, hearing what he always heard at the sound of his first name. Yosano is smart; she learns quickly, and she had found him huddled on a roof and smiled crookedly, offering a hand. 

there was also a chuuya and dazai hurt/comfort scene, kind of loosely based off of the scene intimitopia wrote in the light that the fire would bring chapter 5 where dazai has a panic attack (unintentionally) triggered by poe describing a bloody scene. this is before chuuya and dazai are really close, but chuuya sees dazai leave the room and follows him to the bathroom "to give him back his bag". it was also just one of those scenes that didnt have a place in the final cut and kind of opened a plotline that distracted from the main ones. it also felt a bit too plagiarismy to nick the concept straight from someone else's fic, especially someone in the fandom that i really admire.

i also found this snippet in the extras doc, which i think?? i was going to end with but i couldnt find a natural way to put it in:

“It will get better,” Chuuya decides on, and even though it’s the truth, it’s a shitty truth. He knows how much he hated it when he was a teenager, his whole life in a bag as he traveled from house to house to home. He says it anyway, because there really isn’t anything else he can say, and even if it’s hackneyed, it’s something. “It won’t,” Dazai says predictably. “It doesn’t.” “I didn’t say good,” Chuuya says. “Maybe it’ll never be good. It happens. But it’ll get better.” Dazai sounds doubtful. “It’ll get worse, too.” “Yeah,” Chuuya says, and he reaches for Dazai’s hand, “but that’s when you hold onto the better moments.” Dazai’s hand is always cold, like a reptile, a snake that stayed out of its burrow in the winter and turned icy. Chuuya lets his body heat warm Dazai’s hand, lets it twitch back to something resembling life.  “This is a better moment,” Dazai whispers, and Chuuya isn’t sure if he even meant to say it. Chuuya squeezes Dazai’s hand. “It is.”

i never did get to writing it, and by design the fic doesnt include dazai's backstory. it's a combination of him not being in a place where he wants to tell it to anyone, chuuya not wanting to have to be the person to ask, and yosano and ranpo both knowing that it's not their story to tell. the basics are that dazai was carted around as a half-hostage half-protege of mori's through his childhood. mori was a fairly well known serial killer at the time, and, similar to canon, oda is in the crime world but starting to get out of it. he becomes a very bright spot in dazai's life, being the one person that cared about dazai (in a non-fucked up manipulative way). ango was undercover and ranpo was one of the detectives working the case to get dazai out and mori behind bars. they do eventually, but like canon, not without oda dying. yosano, having been under mori's control in a similar way some years ago, helps them find dazai and eventually legally adopts him. they have their growing pains, and dazai basically becomes a shut-in all throughout high school, but that gets him to where he is at the time of the fic.

i doooo have like. specific ages written down for all of these events somewhere (probably in a notebook) but i dont really remember where

[dirt-goth]

One of the mooooost crazy realizations this week is I do im fact still have some very severe issues around food/eating when I am not smoking an insane amount of weed. Just hadn't noticed because I'm pretty sure the only time I've gone more than a day without smoking was an accident back in October and I was too busy to thinl much about it.

I also found it insane that my friend literally said to me "I thought you knew that and just were working around it" like thank you but no I was in fact more or less convinced I had moved past that part of my life🤷‍♂️

It's honestly crazy how hard it's hitting that pretty much no one sees or feels the same about me as I do which is Good because I guess it means I'm a better cooler and cuter person than I think.but ALSO it is like. Literally painful not being able to reconcile the kindness offered to me with how I see myself. And it's kind of clicking that the way I feel about my body + food + being perceived in general are all a big part of this. Super super crazy how unaddressed parts of your mental health puzzle all kind of cave in at once<3

And logically I know that my relationship with my body + food is probably one of the next things I need to really work on amd am fully aware my perception is not fully reality but also like. It just got a whole lot more weird out here. Honestly even after some pretty clear signs the severity of what's happening here didn't click Until I was well into the second day of the trip, had been doing loads of walking, and physically couldn't make myself eat more than 4 garlic knots :) I figured it out and like. Did end up eating sething through the trip and found some weed but also maybe not the best sign that I physically can't eat when I'm sober so uhhh. Guess that is my next Self Growth experiment for now.

Like this is all overall for the better it's clicking now but. What the fuck is wrong with me and how does it stop.

[succuficial]

okay so I made my new blog but I’m not ready to share it until I’ve at LEAST got my muse pages up but fr if you know me you know that I have literally never gotten around to writing a bio for any of my characters lmfao,

I’ve made ten new guys and ten new gals and so I’m gonna drop a few plots I’m wanting for each one and idk hopefully it’s well received and I can get some plotting going 👀

1) Harrison Abbot, he’s a douchey rich boy who’s being geared up for daddy’s law firm, he’s 100% certain that he’s invincible and he can be very manipulative. In terms of plots for him I’d just like some evil girls for him to fall in love with basically, like give me rich bitches who get catty and try to break his ego while he says mean shit back and then they fuck because that’s all they know how to do even though they both know it’s more because why haven’t they slept with anyone else in such a long time?

2) Remy Windsor, is an old money ballet dancer, she’s extremely driven by her career and she doesn’t allow much room for distraction, her parents want to set her up with the perfect respectful man but everything but dance bores her, so I want men who will excite her!! give me men her father works with who take an interest and get obsessed, give me bad boys, give me the perfect man in her parents eyes who actually ends up pretty fucked up, give me stalkers that for some reason excite her that she seeks out

3) Tobias Wilke, he’s a frat bro through and through, him and his best friend Fritz are both college basketball players, they’re both old money, Tobias is super light hearted amused by everything he loves women and alcohol and partying and going to the gym and he’s no thoughts head empty, just give me some boujee rich girls who turn his head and start the chase because he’d buy them a billboard for the chance to fuck and he’d actually be quite romantic with the right person

4) Simone Bellefleur, an escort to the wealthiest of men Simone has amassed a healthy amount of money herself, she’s always jetsetting and living lavishly, she’s very expensive and I want sexy business men who are morally ambiguous or just cocky assholes to purchase her time for like a few months to take her to parties to protect his image, fuck in his penthouse, go on holidays with, and fall in love on accident because I’m cliche but also probably argue a lot and idk just angsty shit pls

5) Fitz Barton, *see Tobias Wilke*, except Fitz is a lot more sinister he uses his money to get what he wants and I can see him blackmailing girls, so for him I want threads like that? But also, give me Fitz and Tobias playing dares with a virgin and convincing(manipulating) her into fucking them

6) Noelle Van Doran is a wealthy socialite, also old money, her whole life is choreographed for her, she’s a virgin, but in a plea for independence, she starts doing cam work, her face is usually covered but I want threads where people find out it’s her, best friends boyfriends, best friends dads/brothers, her dads work friends, be it they walk in on her or they recognise a birth mark? recognise the room she’s in who knows but then it’s your choice if it becomes blackmail or curiosity

7) Tomas Nunez is literally just a dilf, he owns a coffee shop and has an apartment above it, im thinking a mix of fluffy threads, old love interests coming back to town, two divorcees finding love again, but then on the more debauched side give me hot babysitters in their early twenties who catch him watching them and maybe put on a show, give me daughters best friends who’ve always had a crush on him and then one day while tipsy they make a move

8) Val Ferreira is a mean girl, a rich bitch who treats everyone around her as less than superior, she takes advantage of everyone, but the few she considers friends she’s extremely loyal to and would destroy someone for. Give me older sisters husbands, dads best friends, cocky frat bros that she can play hard to get with, let her treat your boys mean!! also her girls, give me Val teaching your girls how to fuck, give me sorority initiations where your girl becomes Vals pet that she lets her male frat bro friends fuck and humiliate

9) Connor Hawthorne ok so he’s evil, he’s old money, he’s a stalker, he’s a killer, give me threads where he can stalk your girls, give me serial killer threads, where nobody believes that he’s the bad guy because he’s wealthy and influential, he’s not a good person and he won’t treat your muses well, even if he falls in love his love is more like obsession, he’s also very possessive

10) Victoria Cook is a high strung lawyer milf and I want affairs I want younger men I want exes coming back into her life just give me all those good milf tropes

11) Hugo Vos is CEO of a big company that works as a front for money laundering his arms trade, give me receptionists, give me escorts, give me a reason for him to have someone killed, give me his associates daughters give me it all basically

12) Cher Cook is the daughter of Victoria, while her moms this head on straight lawyer Cher has always wanted to dance, she does burlesque in this crummy old club that’s practically ran by criminals, give me criminal overlords in the VIP booth summoning her over and bringing her into his world pls and thanks I want knife play and free use and I want her to believe she’s in love and that he’ll make her a star

13) Ezequiel Trevino is a corrupt priest who skims money from the church, using his devotion to god as the perfect cover up for his ties to the criminal underground, his lack of actual devotion to church makes him a master manipulator so give me him convincing girls that god wants them to give him head whilst he uses a rosary like a leash, give me confessional blackmail, give me all the corrupt priest plots

14) Duffy Maye lives with her biker dad in a trailer, she grew up working on the bikes but really she just wants to be a country singer, she has a thing for rough burly men who are much older than her and can throw her about, give me your sleazy older men pls and thanks

15) Ted Buffet owns a ranch and rides horses and wears a cowboy hat and he’s got rough working hands and he’s actually just scrumptious idk what threads I want for him really but what i do know is that he’d be real romantic and sweet but also probably a bit reserved and idk he’s a real gentleman

16) Abigail Fuller is a playboy bunny she loves pink and partying and she’s ditsy as hell and loves to flirt and she loves rich men and I want bimbofication threads I want her to let a man think for her and for her to just sit pretty and happy

17) Sid Russo is my eddie munson prototype basically, I want hellcheer, I want rich girls, I want milfs actually too idk what I want but I know that I want it

18) Bowie Romero is the daughter of a rock and roll legend, she’s wild and consistently parties everyone fawns over her the paparazzi are always around her, she’s mysterious and seductive and hard to get and I want guys and gals to just be in love with her and desperate to fuck lmao, give me meet ugly’s and high sex and drunk bathroom sex and alleyway sex all while trying to avoid paparazzi

19) Colt Warner is pretty much a canon for stuntman mike from death proof, he’s a sleazy ex stuntman who stalks girls but idk give me girls who kinda…like it

20) Cassidy Torrance is the daughter of a crime boss, she gets away with everything and she always has her way, she’s bored and with an overprotective father I want like, bodyguard threads where she convinces them to fuck because she’s a complete nympho manipulator

[bratkook]

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he��d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 

“Mm, no you don’t.” 

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

[patd--phan]

Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Dadsbestfriend! Bucky (mid/late 40s) x reader (in early/mid twenties)

Summary: Y/N surprises bucky on a business trip and he promises to be hers.

Warnings: SMUTTY stuff (18+ only pleasee), unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), riding, teasing, significant age gap, reader takes charge, “Doll/sweets/baby/sweetheart”, some cute ass shit at the beginning and end tho

WC: about 3K im sorry I was really H*rny yesterday and I was unable to do anything about it as i was stuck in the car all damn day

Note: So I was really h*rny yesterday and this happened lol I’m sorry. Loosely based on the song wanna be yours-arctic monkeys. Also this will probably be the only smut I ever write bc I don’t wanna become an 18+ blog or make anyone uncomfortable (not that 18+ blogs are bad tho lemme set that straight, most of my fav blogs are)

PS thank you for the love on my first ever fic with Peter Parker x reader, it made me so happy that ppl didn’t think I suck lol ( and i guess i lied saying i would probably never write another one shot lol)

You do NOT have my permission to repost this anywhere, I will come for u if you plagiarize ok bye

It was no secret that Bucky liked to be in charge in the bedroom, and you had absolutely no problem with that. After all, he was older and more experienced; he knew how to make your body sing. But this week you were craving something a little different. Bucky had been away on a business trip all weekend and you really missed him, not just the sex (but I mean…) but just cuddling and talking to him about your day; you were feeling clingy. You decide to text bucky even though you knew he couldn’t answer right away because he was currently in a meeting.

Y/N: I mis youu :( when will you be back tomorrow?

You just wandered around your apartment for the next 20 minutes, casually checking your phone about every 30 seconds just in case bucky was able to sneak in a text. He finally replied after 30 minutes, right as his meeting was ending at 3.

Bucky: Hey doll, I miss you too <3

Bucky: unfortunately one of the investors this morning had to push their meeting to late tomorrow afternoon, so I’m not gonna be home until very late tomorrow night :(

Y/N: dammit :(

Y/N: well good luck at the pitch meeting tomorrow, I love and miss you <3

Bucky: don’t gimme that pout I know your making doll, ill see you tonight on facetime! :)

Y/N: haha u know me so well, and yes you’ll see me tonight ;) (but I still miss u)

Bucky: I know doll I hate it too, see you tonight. Love you <3

Y/n: love you too <3

You didn’t know if you could go until late Monday without seeing bucky. As you laid on the couch smiling sadly about missing your love, an idea popped into your head. He was only two and a half hours away, and he wouldn’t be back at his hotel for another 4 hours at least. Fuck it, you were gonna go drive to his hotel and surprise him. You couldn’t be away so long, you felt super clingy this weekend and you needed to be on top of with him.

You quickly ran around your apartment, packing an overnight bag and you saw the package that arrived earlier on your floor that you completely forgot about because you couldn’t stop thinking of Bucky. You remembered its contents e(a completely evil lingerie set) and threw it in the bag with a smirk on your face.

The drive to Bucky’s hotel felt like forever and you had to remind yourself to stop speeding because you were so excited. When you finally got to his hotel, you had to convince the manager to give you a key to his room, proving that you were the man’s girlfriend with several pictures on your phone which was slightly embarrassing because in almost every picture, at least one of you was half-naked. Worth it. You thought. When you arrived in his room you quickly went into the bathroom to change into a little black dress (with a surprise underneath). Then as you were sitting on his bed waiting for him, you realized it would still be a while before he would get back, so you decided to tidy up his things, packing his clothes and organizing his suitcase. Pleased with your work, you sat back down on the bed and looked at your phone for a while. You finally got pulled out of your Instagram daze when you heard Bucky’s voice in the hallway laughing at something a coworker said. You quickly threw your phone on the dresser, straightened up you dress, and sat at the edge of the bed with a huge smile on your face, giddy to surprise him.

As he turned the doorknob he was still looking behind him talking to the man. When he finally said goodbye and turned his head around, his eyebrows raised up and his jaw dropped, which was quickly replaced with a smile even larger than yours.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, running towards you and throwing his briefcase on the floor.

He picked you up in a tight hug and you squealed, legs immediately wrapping around his waist.

“I told you you’d see me tonight!” you said, still clung to him like a koala.

“W-what?” He replied, still in shock. Letting your legs fall back to the floor.

“I just missed you too much” you shrugged.

If any human could embody “heart eyes” it was Bucky at that moment- he’s such a softie for you. He pulled your face towards him and gave you one of the most loving kisses you’ve ever had in your life. You were expecting it to be passionate and rough, but it was soft, delicate and loving, and your heart melted into a puddle. After your lips parted, you gazed into each other’s eyes before being pulled up in another tight hug. You giggled and wrapped your legs around him again.

“I guess you missed me too huh?” you laughed.

“Oh doll, you have no idea.”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, massaging his neck and he moaned loudly.

“Mm, that feels nice.” He hummed.

“You tired baby?” you asked, he seemed like he needed some TLC (and you were ready to give it to him).

“I am so exhausted.” He replied, making you frown behind his back.

You slowly slid down his body, back onto your feet again, and kept massaging his head. He looked at you lovingly before looking around his hotel room, his eyebrows pulled in confusion.

“Did you clean up in here?”

“Yep, while I was waiting for ya,” you replied, smiling.

His whole face softened.

“Oh, I really don’t deserve you doll.” Making you smile and shake your head.

“Oh yes you do.” You replied making him smile and his heart flutter in his chest.

He pulled you in for another kiss, this one with more fire and longing in it than the last one. His large hands grabbed you ass to pull you closer to him and you moaned into the kiss. You pressed your body against him even tighter and ran your hands through his hair making him moan. You could feel his pants tent start to grow against you and you smirked and moved you lips down to the side of his neck making him groan.

You pull back and look at him, hard and eyes half lidded, it turns you on so much you feel your panties dampening.

“Hey Buck?” you whisper, lips mere inches apart.

“Hmm?” he hums in response.

“I have another surprise for you.” You whisper into his ear before pulling back to look at his face.

“What’s that, doll?” he whispers.

You smirk and step away from him, noticing the confusion on his face before you pull your dress over your head and throw it onto the floor.

Bucky’s jaw drops, making you bite your lip and smirk even more. This was gonna be fun.

“Oh, fuck me,” He groans.

“Oh, I fully intend on it, Buck” you smirk.

He just groans and starts walking towards you.

“Buck?”

“Yeah sweets?”

“Wanna be mine tonight?”

“Fuck, I’ll be yours forever doll.” He says, making you whimper. You pull him against you by his tie, pressing your bodies together.

Your lips crash and tongues swirl together fighting for dominance. Hands moving up and down each other’s bodies like animals. Bucky squeezing your ass so tight you know there’s gonna be marks.

You both pull back enough so you can shimmy off Bucky’s tie and throw it over his head before unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off him. You then sink to your knees and undo his belt quickly before slowly unzipping his pants, kissing the outside of his member though his pants making him exhale a breath sharply.

“Fuck” he breathes out.

You don’t want to tease him too much (yet) so after another kiss, you shove his pants off and lay down on the bed, his body caging you under him.

The passionate makeout session resumes with Bucky still hard in his boxers pressing against your clothed core. You suddenly remember what you wanted and pull back from the kiss.

“Wait, no” you whisper.

Bucky pulls back, confused and nervous he did something to hurt you.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

You take advantage of his confusion and roll him over so you were straddling him with a smirk on your face.

Bucky moans at your actions, core pressing tight against him.

“You said you’d be mine.” You breathe over his lips. Moaning as being in charge is giving you a whole rush of feelings and confidence.

You kiss him, and he lets you dominate the kiss this time, biting his lips and grinding on him. He bucks his hips onto your and you pull back.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Bucky moans at your words as you start to kiss all the way down his body, leaving little hickies down his chest. When you get towards his boxers he thinks your gonna kiss his member or pull down his boxers, but instead you go back up his chest, licking a stripe from his belly button all the way to one of his nipples, up his neck, to his lips.

Bucky moans, loud. You give him one more kiss before deciding to stop teasing him (kinda). You quickly kiss down his chest again and then plant a few kisses on his aching cock through his boxers. He bucks his hips and is whimpering under you. Fuck, that turns you on. Your big strong boyfriend who could probably crush you with one arm, whimpering and practically begging under you. Your panties are fucking soaked and you don’t think you can deny your own pleasure too much longer. You pull down his boxers and his cock is throbbing and dripping precum.

“Shit” you moan at the sight.

You lick the precum off him and he gives a high pitched moan that goes straight to your core.

“Baby please, I- I can’t.”

“Don’t worry baby I got you.” You reply as you take his full member into your mouth, sucking lightly.

Bucky moans and bucks his hips into your mouth. You push them back down and suck a few more times before getting off of him. He looks worried for a second before you slide your panties off and straddle his cock.

“Still wanna be mine?”

“Always” he replies.

You sink down onto him, jaw dropping and eyes closing at the feeling. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him no matter how many times he’s been inside you. You both moan as his whole cock is finally buried inside you.

“Fuck Bucky, you feel so fucking good in me.” You moan, starting to rock your hips.

“God, I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Bucky continues to give low moans as you start to ride him.

“Fuck baby, I love you like this.” He says, making you start to ride him harder, moaning at his words.

His hands come grab your hips to help you ride him faster, harder.

“Baby- shit I’m close already.” He pleads.

“All for me? Shit baby aren’t I the lucky one?” You moan.

Bucky’s grip on your hips tighten and he starts to fuck up into you. He was about to blow.

You moan loudly at the feeling. “Cum in me baby please I need it.”

After a particularly hard thrust into your wet pussy you feel him spilling inside you. He lets out one of those vulgar high pitched moans and grunts that make your brain short circuit and your eyes roll back while your pussy clenches around him. You feel yourself getting close, but you want to give him another orgasm, so you sink down on him fully and slowly ride him, hearing him whimpering and moaning. You feel him get hard in you again (thank you supersoldier serum) and you rock back and forth on him. You reach down to rub your clit, but Bucky sees it and swats your hand away, replacing it with his metal one.

“Oh fuck” you moan at the cool sensation.

You start to bounce up and down on him again, the knot in your abdomen building and heating up. You feel yourself close to being undone as you ride him and his other hand runs up your body and squeezes your nipple through your thin lace bra. You moan and feel yourself clench around him, making him moan.

“Fuck- I’m gonna c-“ you get interrupted by the white hot explosion of your orgasm. Your eyes roll back, jaw hangs open and toes curl as you feel that release knock throughout your whole body, making you shake. You let out those high pitched moans and whines that only Bucky makes you feel.

Feeling you clench around him and watching your completely fucked out face, you feel Bucky’s thick cock twitch inside of you, and you moan as you feel him release in you again. Fuck that makes you feel good. So good you can’t think or move and you start to collapse on top of Bucky, but he slightly catches you and lays you down on his chest, both breathing heavy, with his cock still inside you, cum dripping all down your legs and onto Bucky.

You can’t speak, can’t think, the pleasure totally ruining you. After what feels like forever, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, as does Bucky’s, and you feel his hand rubbing up and down your back, grounding you back to earth from wherever on cloud nine you were.

You hum as you feel yourself finally calm down.

“Holy fuck, doll” you feel him lowly whine in your ear. You can only moan lowly in response.

“Baby that was fucking amazing.”

“Mmhmm.” You hum.

“…but I think I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep clenching around me.” He chuckles.

“oh shit, sorry,” you mumble out. You try to push up off of him but the farthest you got was placing your hands on his shoulders before your body gave up on you.

“Oh my God, I can’t move” you whisper. You’re so fucked out, your body won’t respond to your brain anymore.

Bucky moans at your words and slowly rolls both of you so youre on your side facing him. He reaches down and pulls his soft cock out of your pussy, moaning when he sees a burst of cum leaking from you.

You moan at the feeling of him exiting your body. You look him in the eyes and give him a lazy smile. His eyes sparkle back at you and his hand comes up to rub your cheek.

“Mm” you hum at the feeling.

“That was fucking incredible” he says, making you smile wider.

“I’m not disagreeing” you quip.

He chuckles lightly before saying “you gotta do this more often.”

“What, surprise you on business trips?” you question.

“No” he rolls his eyes and smiles, “Well yes actually, but I was talking about you absolutely taking charge tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirk.

“Fuck yeah doll, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard. You looked so damn sexy in charge.”

You look away from his eyes, shying at his words, but also they were giving you the confidence to look right back into his eyes and say “I agree” with a smirk.

“I love hearing those high pitched moans you make, It turns me on so much” you admit.

“You know, only you can get those noises out of me, doll” he chides. You blush and smile at him.

He chuckles and you bring his face towards yours and kiss him deeply, tongues meeting together. You both hum into the kiss as his hand rubs down the side of your body.

When you break the kiss, both of you needing a breath, he pulls your body towards him, resting your head on his chest. You hum in peace as he rubs your back.

“I love you so much Y/N” he says and you feel your heart absolutely burst in your chest.

“I love you so much too Buck,” you reply, lifting your head to peck him on the lips before placing your head back on his chest.

You lay in silence for a minute before your mind begins to wander again.

“Did you mean it?” you ask.

“Mean what, doll?”

“That you’ll be mine forever?” you ask. “I mean not just in the sexy way but that you’ll be with me forever?” you ramble out.

“God yes sweetheart, you’re the one for me.” He responds and you didn’t think your heart could explode anymore, but it just did.

You squeeze his shoulder with your hand before coming up to kiss him passionately again, almost crying at all of the love going though you.

“I promise I’m all yours forever too, Buck” you smile at him.

“Good,” he smiles back, and you rest back on his chest, eyes getting droopy.

“Night-night sweetheart.” You feel yourself smile in your sleep.

“Goodnight my love.” You reply, further cuddling into his chest. Bucky feels his heart combust in his chest. God, wasn’t he lucky to have you. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he knew that he was going to assure you that you deserve the world every day for the rest of his life. He kissed the top of your head before falling into a deep sleep, content with his favorite person tight in his arms.

[sweetberrysmooch]

HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section

(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)

First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol

Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.

Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3

Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters

Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3

From best to worst:

#1: BadBoyHalo-

Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.

He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?

His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.

While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.

Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.

(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this- 

The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it, 

“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.

“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap. 

“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George. 

And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon. 

“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)

#2: Philza 

Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.

Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.

He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.

He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).

(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?” 

When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail. 

“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.” 

It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)

#3: Quackity-

Quackity:

Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.

He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.

He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon  minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!

As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.

(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea. 

You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens. 

He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)

#4: Schlatt-

Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.

During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.

Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.

He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.

Overall, a good 4th place on the list.

(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head. 

“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Schlatt.” 

“Yes.” 

The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently. 

You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look. 

“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)

#5: Dream-

Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.

He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.

Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).

To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.

Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.

One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)

(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy. 

It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm. 

His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)

#6: Technoblade-

Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.

6th place ^^; sorry king.

He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.

Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.

He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.

As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.

(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you. 

You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races. 

“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.” 

Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him. 

“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.” 

He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)

#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.

Fundy- 

Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.

He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.

Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)

Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.

7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.

(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly. 

The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument. 

He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday. 

So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying. 

You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was. 

Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)

Sapnap-

Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.

Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.

He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.

Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.

(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking. 

At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets. 

“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper. 

“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed. 

“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.” 

You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant. 

Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)

#8. George-

Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.

He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.

To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…

(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it. 

It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth. 

Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)

#9: Wilbur

Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.

You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”

Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.

With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.

(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur. 

“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively. 

“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?” 

“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!” 

You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)

// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: 780 Days

Parts One, Two, and Three of the Nayeon prequels.

---

Day 3: 

On your first date Im Nayeon reaches over and swipes the two pieces of delicious-looking salmon sashimi off the wooden tray of sushi the waiter had just placed in front of you.

“I love salmon,” she says.

Her theft complete, she takes two pieces of tamago sushi from her own tray and places them on yours. It was clearly meant to be some sort of payment or compensation for the grand theft sushi that had just been committed in front of your very eyes - a deal you were clearly on the losing end of.

You look up at her, still a little dumbfounded at her brashness during a first date, when most people were often overly concerned with being on their best manners and presenting the best version of themselves that they could. But here she was, swiping the two most delicious - and expensive - pieces of sushi from you, uncaring of your say in the matter.

You are about to open your mouth and start a tirade about how unjust and unfair this transaction was for you, when she gives you a smile - toothy and gummy, not a hint or remorse on her adorable features. 

The prominence of her two front teeth remind you a little bit of those of a rabbit. You smile back despite how surprised you were by her sushi theft.

This probably wasn’t going to last very long.

Day 7:

ImNayeon says: I had a good time last week :)

You say: So did I!

ImNayeon says: I owe you some salmon I guess. Free on Friday?

You sigh out loud as you receive her text. You didn’t have the best of first dates. You didn’t have much in common, she seemed a little more straightforward than you would’ve liked, and you weren’t sure you were over the entire sushi theft thing. 

She was cute, though, and that smile - that damn smile.

You didn’t know it at the time, but as you type your response a smile has crept onto your lips.

You say: Sure - pick you up at 7?

Day 20:

Your first time was awkward. 

You were both young and inexperienced, bumbling around each others’ bodies trying to recreate things you’d seen in porn or trying something that might have worked with a previous partner, not quite realizing just yet that every person’s body is different, and what worked for your prom date on prom night was by no means guaranteed to work for this young woman.

But what you lacked in experience you more than made up for with enthusiasm. It had been months since your last hookup, and from the second you’d entered her dorm room you were metaphorically and physically salivating at the opportunity to sleep with her. Nayeon seemed a little more hesitant, a little more nervous about where things were going, but she was still clearly as into it as you were, if the soft gasps and sighs that left her mouth as you explored her neck were any indication. Your hands, hungry to finally have the opportunity to explore her body for the first time, roam her small, tight frame, squeezing her cute little butt, caressing her back, pressing against her sides.

You both stumble onto the bed - quite literally, as you were both too focused on exploring each others’ mouths to realize how close it actually was. Nayeon falls onto it first, a cute little giggle leaving her mouth as she does so. You loom over her for a moment, enraptured by her smile, those cute bunny teeth of hers, those welcoming lips, her button nose, those perfect, expressive eyes rendered into adorable upside down arcs - her image took your breath away.

You find a smile appearing at the corner of your lips, the way it always seemed to whenever you spent time with this amazing young woman who had been at the center of your thoughts over the past couple of weeks. Sometimes it was something she said or did that made you smile - a funny joke, the way she reacted with half-serious anger when you teased her about her unusually large hands, the clumsy way she blew strands of hair away from her face while she studied. Sometimes she made you smile just by being her - when she was doing nothing in particular, managing to bring a smile to your lips even before you knew your lips were moving.

The sex that was to come was awkward, clumsy, far from being the best sex you’d ever had. But when it is over and you are both lying there with her head on your chest, you take a moment to look down and watch as she begins to doze off, her eyes slowly becoming too heavy for her to keep open, until finally she drifts off and begins to lightly snore.

You add that moment to the growing list of moments when Im Nayeon made you smile.

Day 21: 

“...and counting you, yeah, that’s the number.”

Nayeon takes a moment to respond, and you fear that you might have surprised her with how many girls you’d slept with. Should you have lied? What number was she expecting when she asked you? You tilt your head as best you could to try and get a look at her face as she rests her head in the crook of your neck. She is facing away from the nearby window and the mid-morning sunlight of the day after your first time together sheds little light on her expression.

“Is that… a lot for you?” you ask.

“No, no it’s not,” she replies, “Don’t worry, I’m not a prude or anything. People can sleep with as many people as they want. It’s just sex. This isn’t the 1800s.”

You find it a little difficult to gauge her reaction from her flat response.

“Some of them were just one night stands. Stupid drunken hookups at house parties. They didn’t mean anything-”

“What about me? Do I mean anything?” she asks suddenly. She tilts her head up at you, and you are relieved to see the cheesy smile on her face that told you she had meant the question mostly as a joke.

“Of course you do,” you reply, before giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, “I don’t usually buy my sexual partners dinner.”

Nayeon gives you a punch to the gut, and while she meant it to be playful it still caught you unprepared. 

“What about you?” you ask once sufficiently recovered. “What’s your number?”

Nayeon takes another moment to consider her answer, tapping her bottom lip with her index finger as though reviewing the entirety of her sexual history in her head. The length of time she takes to compose her answer makes you more than a little nervous, but you resolve to accept whatever number she gives you - she was right; it wasn’t the 1800s.

Nayeon’s finger leaves her mouth and she places it back onto your chest, where she begins to idly play with a random patch of skin.

“Counting you?” she asks, softly.

“Yeah.”

“One,” she answers.

Day 113:

Im Nayeon turned out to be a pretty good shot.

Of the ten targets set up at the carnival booth you were currently visiting, she downed eight with her BB gun - good enough for the surprised staff member to give her her choice of oversized stuffed animal.

“You’re a pretty damn good shot,” you say as you leave the booth, a large stuffed rabbit slung over your back. “If you’re some sort of international super spy you should probably tell me now.”

“Nope, not a spy,” she answers as she takes a bite from the large cloud of cotton candy she just bought from a nearby stand. She rips off a small piece and pops it into your mouth before hooking her arm in yours.

“Special Forces?”

“Nah, I don’t take orders very well.”

“Cop?”

“Fuck cops,” she says plainly, an edge in her voice. “No way in hell I’d ever want to be a cop.”

Day 283: 

It didn’t take long for sex to become a regular and frequent occurence with Nayeon.

It almost seemed like your first time together had flipped a switch inside the young woman, as though she were introduced to this new exciting thing that she had to have at every opportunity. 

You were both taking mid-level classes now and while the school workload and extracurricular commitments had ramped up, you both made sure to set time aside for each other. Nayeon was a caring, loving young woman and you were constantly in awe at the fact that you were lucky enough to be in a relationship with her. She was everything you had ever wanted in a girlfriend, and you did your best to make her feel as such. She rarely admitted it with words, but you could tell from the small things - the way she held your hand, the way she always bought you little trinkets and snacks and gifts, the way she looked longingly into your eyes every now and then - that she must have felt the same. 

It surprised you, then, that such a sweet and caring girl could be so aggressive and daring when it came to sex. You’d figured her to be the vanilla, simple type, especially after your first time together - but she quickly became open to experimenting with different positions and kinks. It was most often her that wanted to try new things in the bedroom - or the library, or the bathroom. Recently she’d taken a liking to two new kinks - light bondage, and sex in increasingly daring places on campus.

Nayeon hated the professor of the mid-level criminology class she was currently taking, and so she wanted to exact some measure of revenge on him by having sex on the lectern in the lecture hall a few hours before her class. It was a flimsy excuse, but you weren’t one to turn down such an opportunity.

She even dressed for the occasion - her blue plaid skirt and the tight white button up she wore gave her all the appearance of an innocent schoolgirl, even if the shirt was currently undone and the skirt bunched up around her waist. She even went through the trouble of wearing white knee socks and a blue tie to complete the schoolgirl ensemble, although the tie was currently serving rather admirably as a restraint for her wrists, bound behind her back.

You are almost worried that being pressed face down onto the lectern without her hands to support her was painful for her, but the tightness of her tight, slick pussy wrapped around your cock and her endless stream of only half-suppressed sighs and moans convinced you that there was nothing to be worried about. Your hands wander her helpless body as you take her roughly from behind, sometimes squeezing a cute ass cheek, sometimes pulling her body back by her shoulders as you slam forward with your hips, sometimes grasping a handful of chocolate hair, moistened with sweat, and pulling back, enjoying the gasp of pleasure and pain that leaves her throat with each tug of her hair.

Fucking her over the lecture hall lectern was a risky move, of course, given that absolutely anyone in the university community could have walked in and witnessed you pounding away at her - but Nayeon’s sexual appetite had become more and more ravenous in the past couple of months, and when she decided she wanted it, you were in no position to refuse her.

It had started simple enough, with some relatively vanilla sexual positions in her dorm room or yours. And then it turned into weekends where you did little more than eat, sleep and fuck. Then you began fucking on campus, starting in the library against the bookshelves, and then in washrooms between classes - culminating now in this afternoon’s escapade, your most brazen one yet.

You wonder, for a split second, what the punishment might be should a faculty member walk in and find you two going at it atop the lecture hall’s stage. But as Nayeon’s pussy tightens around you and her moans begin to reach a crescendo, you realize that you would have accepted any such punishment with a happy, satisfied smile on your face.

“I’m gonna fucking cum on your cock,” Nayeon states through gritted teeth, matter-of-factly, as though she were answering a question posed by her professor, and not being fucked atop his lectern. “You’re so… so fucking big inside me.”

The audacity of the situation she had put you in - the thrill of the possibility of being caught, her schoolgirl outfit, the tight, wet heat of her pussy and the level of arousal she was clearly experiencing - it was no surprise how turned on you both were. Your bodies made it obvious.

“And you’re so fucking tight, Nayeon. Are you… gonna think of us fucking on this lectern when you’re in class later?”

“Fuck yes!” Nayeon gasps, “Fuck, fuck yes, I want to picture you fucking me on this lectern while the professor gives his lecture, it’s gonna make me so wet, oh fuck, oh fuck… I want to sit in class with your cum in my pussy, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Fucking cum for me, Nayeon,” you spit. 

“Oh fuck oh god I’m gonna fucking cum oh fuck I’m cumming!--”

You grit your teeth as she does just that, her body tightening and pulsating around you, her limbs shaking as she tries and fails to contain the pleasure radiating out from her core. You consider joining her, and your aching cock almost begs for release as it continues to pound the quivering young woman atop the lectern - but you do your best to hang on a little longer, seeking to savor every moment, relish every thrust into Nayeon’s tight, slick pussy.

And so when the door to the lecture hall opens, you almost don’t realize it.

Nayeon is thankfully more alert than you, and even through her post-orgasm haze she realizes the danger the opening of the door posed to the both of you. Before you realize what she is doing she pushes herself off you and off the lectern, ducking beneath it. On her knees, she quickly turns to face you and before you know it she takes your cock into her mouth.

You are left breathless, suddenly going from having your cock buried in your girlfriend’s pussy to having her under the lectern and having your cock buried in her mouth literally leaves you unable to move, much less process the fact that someone else has entered the lecture hall.

It is a few more seconds before you are cognizant enough to realize that the newcomer is dressed in grey overalls - a janitor. While he is far off at the top of the stairs that lead to the entrance of the large lecture hall, from his stooped posture you could tell he was likely an older gentleman. The fact that the lectern is a solid piece of wood, combined with the janitor’s age and eyesight, likely meant that there was little chance of him realizing Nayeon was there.

“Oh, sorry, professor, I didn’t know you were in here. Just cleaning up the garbage bins,” the janitor says as he shuffles towards the bins at either corner of the hall.

“Oh, no problem at all,” you answer, your voice wavering only slightly as Nayeon continues to take your stiff, aching cock in and out of her mouth, “I’m just… getting some notes ready.”

You make a show of shuffling some random papers and forms that were lying atop the lectern. You are too afraid to look down, knowing that the sight of Nayeon’s large, expressive eyes as she took your cock in and out between her lips, her arms still bound behind her, might be too much for you to handle.

“Nice weather we’re having, eh?” the janitor asks in a pleasant tone as he finally reaches one of the bins at the corner of the hall.

“Wonderful!” you snap, your voice cracking as you answer, “-wonderful. It’s pretty damn hot down there.”

“Down there?” the janitor asks, quizzically. 

“Out there. Sorry. I meant to say ‘out there.’”

“Ah,” he responds, before shuffling, painfully slowly, towards the other bin.

Beneath the lectern Nayeon redoubles her efforts, as though challenging you to cum before the janitor leaves the room. Her lips tighten around your cock, her tongue dancing in random patterns around and under your head, each swipe of it sending fierce shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your grip tightens on the lectern’s edge as you seek some outlet for the pleasure.

You try to focus on the random notes that some previous professor had left on the lectern, trying to avoid looking down at Nayeon as she continues to suck deeply on your cock. At the top of the lecture hall the janitor has almost reached the second bin.

You notice some struggling going on beneath the lectern, and you glance down long enough to see that Nayeon has relieved herself of the tie wrapped around her wrists - you hadn’t deemed it necessary to double knot it, trusting in her lust and newfound desire to be bound up to keep her wrists tied. 

You watch, enraptured, as Nayeon takes you halfway into her mouth, her eyes locked on yours, lips tight around your shaft. Her hands now free, she quickly slips her already unbuttoned white shirt over her creamy shoulders before quickly reaching behind her and undoing her bra, letting it fall from her now topless frame. She lets your cock pop out of her mouth, jerking it slowly with her right hand as she straightens her torso and lets you have a glimpse of her naked chest, a thick stream of saliva dripping from her lips to fall down her chin and onto her small, round breasts.

As she continues to jerk you off with her right hand, eyes still fixed on yours, her left hand drops to her upper chest before capturing one of her own stiff nipples and pinching the hard bud between her index finger and thumb. You gasp audibly as you watch her touch herself. Knowing every ounce of your attention is fixated on her, she slips her hand between her legs and beneath the hem of her skirt. From the sudden pleasured expression on her face you know she has slipped her fingers inside herself.

Eyes glazed over with pleasure, she locks her gaze on yours and takes you into her mouth again.

Nothing else exists in your world. Never mind the janitor - every one of the two hundred seats in front of you could have been filled with students and nothing could have stopped you from watching, helplessly, as Nayeon brings you to orgasm. In reality it probably only took twenty seconds or so of her sucking your cock while she fingered herself - but in your mind it seemed to last forever.

A split second before you reach your peak you bury yourself as deeply inside her mouth, reaching down involuntarily with your right hand to grasp the back of her head and thrusting your cock as deep between her warm, wet lips as you could. Nayeon gags slightly as the head of your cock enters her throat, but she manages to control her gag reflex, and maintains it as your orgasm overtakes your senses and you send thick, hot semen down her throat. Time became abstract - seemed to slow down and then stop completely as you fill Nayeon’s mouth and throat with your cum.

“All done!” comes an announcement from some far away voice - and it takes you a few seconds before you realize it is the janitor, having finally reached and emptied the second garbage bin. “Sorry to bother you again, professor. Have a wonderful class.”

“Th… thanks,” you mumble as the janitor gives you a friendly wave, one you struggle to return with a weak wave of your own quivering arm. Your knees have similarly gone weak, and you are holding onto the lectern with both hands now, struggling to remain upright.

Beneath the lectern Nayeon tries to ensure that she swallows as much of your cum as possible, her throat working quickly to greedily swallow each rope of thick semen that you give her. Despite her best efforts she fails, some of the large volume of cum escaping from the corners of her lips to drip down her chin and onto her naked chest. When she has swallowed as much as she can she swirls her tongue around your hyper-sensitive cock a few times before finally releasing it from her lips. As her mouth leaves your cock it remains joined to her lips by a thick stream of semen, before the rope snaps and drips onto her naked upper chest.

“Fuck, I wanted it in my pussy,” she says as she begins to clean your slick cock with a thirsty tongue, “I guess you’ll have to fuck me here again tomorrow.” 

Day 365: 

“It’s leaking out of me.”

“Jesus, Nayeon, it was your idea. I thought you cleaned up before we left the bathroom.”

“I didn’t know there would be that much. I thought I drained you this morning,” she answers, squirming about in her seat. She straightens her dress as best she could, but there was no hiding the recent wrinkles that came with having said dress pulled up around her waist.

“Either way, it was hot as fuck,” you admit. Having sex in a university library or even in a lecture hall seemed woefully vanilla now that you could both add sex in a high-class, overly expensive restaurant’s bathroom to your list of achievements.

“Definitely,” she answers, a sly smile on her lips and a slight blush on her cute, puffy cheeks. It amazed you, sometimes, how she could switch so quickly between being adorable and sultry and beautiful. Sometimes she was all three, all at the same time.

“Anyway,” she continues, “I got a present for you. It’s our anniversary, if you didn’t notice.”

She bends to pick something out from her purse before sliding the rectangular velvet box across the table. You are a little surprised, suddenly worried that the new pair of running shoes you’d bought for her earlier in the day was now not enough. What the hell were you thinking getting a girl a pair of Nikes for your anniversary? In your defense, she loved to run, she loved Nikes and she had insisted that she make it easy for you by picking out a pair for you that she wanted... but you should’ve known better, should’ve gotten her a bracelet or a necklace or-

“Open it,” she says, softly, a small, sly smile on her otherwise unreadable features. She takes a small bite of her salad, but her eyes remain locked on yours, as though wanting to capture every split second of your reaction.

You are a little apprehensive when you reach for the box and open it, expecting a watch or bracelet or some other expensive piece of jewelry.

Inside is a circular strip of red leather - a choker or collar of some sort. Its buckle gleams in the restaurant’s low light.

“Um, thanks, Nayeon,” you answer, a little puzzled by the present, even if it was clearly of exceptional quality and looked quite expensive. “I don’t own a pet, though.”

“It’s not for animals,” Nayeon answers as she pushes around some of the lettuce on her plate. “It’s for a slave. It’s for me.”

Day 712:

“It’s not a sexy anniversary present this time, so don’t get your hopes up,” Nayeon says as you tear the neatly applied wrapping paper from the box. Sitting next to you on the couch of your apartment, she idly plays with the necklace you had just given her, her fingertips tracing the outline of the silver bunny rabbit at the end of the black leather string. Her lips curve upward in a soft, happy smile. You’d learned from last year and weren’t about to make the same mistake two years in a row.

“I’m sure it’s awesome no matter what it is,” you reply, truthfully. You finally open the box to find a blue hoodie inside it - simple in design, but you could tell by its fabric and its details that it was a high quality one.

“You’re always shivering in those ratty old sweaters and jackets of yours,” she notes. “I can’t have my boyfriend freezing his ass off all the time.”

You smile as you give the hoodie a closer look, admiring its stitching and the detail work. It was such a simple present, but it spoke of how much she thought of you.

“I love it. I’ll never take it off.”

Day 741:

Nayeon is playing idly with your knuckles atop the restaurant table as she describes an interesting case study in her criminology textbook - something about inter-jurisdictional police work, or something like that. Truth be told, you could barely piece together what she was going on about, other than the fact that it involved the rules and regulations put in place when law enforcement agencies and personnel from one country have to work in another.

She seemed engrossed in the topic - and while she was an intelligent young woman who seemed to breeze through all of her classes with flying colors, she had rarely shown this much actual personal interest in any of her other school work.

So while you weren’t quite following or understanding every detail she was relating about the complexities of international law and its relation to cross-jurisdictional law enforcement, you were content simply to watch her speak, gesturing expressively with her free hand while she kept her other atop yours, her thumb idly stroking the knuckle of your index finger. You smile and nod, content simply to watch her talk about something she was so deeply interested in.

The waiter arrives with your order - two wooden trays of assorted sushi. He gives you both a friendly smile as he places the food down on the table; you’d been to the restaurant almost weekly since your first date there more than two years ago. Despite the waiter’s friendly demeanor and the impending prospect of another delicious meal, you feel a ping of sadness in your heart as Nayeon lets go of your hand to make room for the newly arrived food.

Almost as soon as the waiter leaves, you pick up your two pieces of salmon and reach over to drop them onto Nayeon’s tray. In return she leaves you with her pieces of tamago, which you’d come to love over the past couple of years.

You look at each other and share a smile. She begins to dig into her food, but your gaze lingers on her for a moment more, your smile refusing to leave quite yet.

Day 751:

“Huh,” you say out loud as you read through the email.

“Mmm?” Nayeon asks as she pops the last french fry on her plate into her mouth. You are both sitting in the university student union building, having just shared a quick lunch between classes. Sitting next to you, she leans over to get a better look at the screen of your laptop.

“I applied to this job at this company called JYP last week, and they want to interview me.”

“Ooooh. I hear they’re gonna be big soon. Go for it.”

“Not sure if I’d even want the job if I were to get it, though,” you answer. “Their head office is all the way on the other side of the country and I’m not gonna move all that way for a job - even if it does sound a bit like a pretty cool company. And it’s for a pretty low level position.”

“You should still take the interview -  it might be good experience for the future, when you’re doing an interview for a job you’re more serious about. Worst case scenario you make a fool of yourself in front of people you’ll never see again. Best case scenario, you get a job offer from one of the best companies in the industry.”

“Yeah, I hear thousands of people apply for these new-grad positions and they only accept a handful. It’s a career-defining opportunity… but making people move to the other side of the country so they can start at the bottom making coffee for meetings is a big ask.”

“You’re a fresh grad - they’re not gonna give you your own team and have you travel the world making deals right off the bat. There’s no point in thinking about it, either way. Take the interview, and if you get an offer that’s great, if not, well, at least you got some experience out of it.”

“That’s true,” you admit. “Okay, let’s make deal. I’ll take this interview, you apply for that grad school program you’ve been thinking about.”

Nayeon groans - she was majoring in criminology and was thinking about pursuing a career in the field, but hadn’t quite decided on whether grad school was something she wanted to pursue given the amount of work that it would entail.

“Ugh - you know how I feel about that.”

“Nayeon, you love the field. You don’t stop telling me about these new cases you come across in your classes. Your grades are more than good enough. It would be awesome for your career.”

“I suppose. But we’ve been over this. I want to find a good job right after graduation. I have plans for post-school life. We have plans.”

You nod, knowing Nayeon was referring to the idea of the both of you moving in together after graduation. Things were getting pretty serious with her, and you were both looking forward to taking the next step. You’d caught her once or twice looking at listings for apartments around the city in neighborhoods you’d both liked. And more than once her gaze lingered for more than a few seconds at rings in jewelry stores as you passed by them on the street.

“I get that, but you can still work while you’re in grad school. And hey, if we live together, it won’t be so bad. Soon you’ll finish the program and get a job as an international crime fighter and I’ll sit at home being your trophy husband - which is my real dream job, let’s be honest.”

Nayeon giggles, snuggling closer to you on the cafeteria bench. Her cheeks blush pink, and it takes you a second to realize it was probably because you used the word ‘husband.’ While you knew you were both young and the idea of marriage seemed a little premature, you would’ve been lying if you’d said it hadn’t crossed your mind once or twice over the past couple of years. 

“Husband, huh? What makes you think I want to marry you?”

“Well, I’m your dream guy,” you answer as nonchalantly as you could, “of course you’d want to marry me. We’d live in a perfect little apartment downtown next to our favorite sushi restaurant and we’d have three dogs named Charmander, Bulbasaur, and Squirtle. You can go off chasing bad guys in foreign countries while I concentrate on being the very best - like no one ever was.”

“I suppose that does sound like a dream come true,” she says softly, her eyes suddenly thoughtful. She touches the silver rabbit on her necklace, her fingers tracing the well worn patterns on it.

“Right? So we’ve agreed, then. I’ll interview for JYP, you apply for that grad school program.”

“Gah, fine,” Nayeon submits, although you could tell her reaction was more than a little exaggerated. Her cheeks are still flushed, her eyes still wistful, as though she were processing the thousand little thoughts running through her head.

“Good. Let us drink to our agreement.”

You raise your half-empty can of coke, and Nayeon picks up her water bottle.

“To chasing our dreams,” she says, before you tap your drinks together.

Day 783:

It takes Nayeon most of the morning to get out of bed. 

When she finally drags herself to the washroom to look at herself in the mirror, she can barely recognize the mess she sees in its reflection.

Her eyes are red, dry, and itchy after having spent the night before crying herself to sleep. For a moment she thinks of grabbing her phone, of calling you and telling you that you could still be together, that you broke up prematurely, that you were meant to be - that you could maybe give a long distance relationship a try. It was a temptation that came up often in the past three days since your breakup. Every time it came up she fought it off, even if every time she did it cost her in tears and heartache.

She sighs. You were probably already starting your new life on the other side of the country. Far away from your university, far away from the sushi restaurant where she traded egg for salmon, far away from the apartment open houses that she’d hoped you would visit together - far away from the life she thought she’d be living with you.

She feels the tears start to well up again. 

But this time she tries her best to fight them off, wiping at them with a tissue before they have the chance to fall down her cheeks.

She needed something, anything to get her mind off of you. And while the prospect of crawling back into her bed and allowing sleep to dull her heartache was appealing to her, she knew it would solve nothing, wouldn’t do anything to help her recover. She was sad now, and she would be sad when she woke up.

The new textbooks for her graduate program in criminology, sitting in a pile on her desk, catch her attention.

Eyes still red and teary, she breaks the first one open and begins to read.

Day 2,013:

It takes Nayeon most of the morning to get the stench of the decomposing body out of her nostrils. 

“Jesus Christ,” her partner swears as they step out of the main elevator in the building where the murders took place, “I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”

“Neither will I,” she agrees, taking long sniffs of air through her nostrils in a vain attempt to cleanse her sense of smell.

“What’s your call, boss?”

“Jealous wife stabs cheating husband to death in his sleep. There was a hunting rifle and ammo elsewhere in the house that she could have used if she just wanted him dead. They were filthy rich, so I doubt this was life insurance fraud or anything like that. This wasn’t about money. Use of the knife suggests it was personal. Passionate. Repeated stabs, too, not just one clean cut. She wanted to send that asshole a message as she killed him.”

“Their mistake was in getting married,” her partner states, unprompted. He fancied himself a bit of a playboy, although Nayeon knew his self-confident exterior and dismissal of long term relationships masked an internal irrational fear of commitment. She’d always been good at getting the measure of people, even before her job as a detective allowed her to turn it into a career.

“Whatever,” she says, dismissive. “Let’s pull the CCTV from the building, especially the ones from the underground garage. This was a crime committed in the heat of passion. Unplanned. I’m guessing she panicked, took their car and drove off. We should be able to pull a license plate - make sure you get it out and distributed in case she stayed local. They’ve got a ton of money so she’s probably out of the country by now, but we can at least track the car on airport CCTV and deduce what flight she hopped on. Pull their credit card info and start looking for flights. Once you have that I’ll start having a chat with my contacts in those countries.”

“Roger that, boss,” her partner says. “Another case Sherlocked by the great Im Nayeon,” he adds, before heading off to track down the building superintendent.

Nayeon smirks in his direction as she ducks under the yellow police tape that bars the entrance doors to the building, pushing past the gathering crowd of concerned apartment neighbors.

As she approaches her squad car to head back to the precinct, her phone vibrates in her jacket.

“Detective Im,” she answers.

“Im? Im Nayeon? I’m not sure if you remember me, but this is Park Jihyo of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. We met at that convention in Madrid last year.”

“Of course I remember you, Jihyo. How are you? What’s up?”

“I’m doing good, thanks. Listen, something’s come up here in Seoul that I was hoping you could help me with.”

Nayeon puts her phone on speaker, continuing her conversation with Jihyo as she pulls the squad car out of the garage and starts to head back to the precinct. 

After their call Nayeon reaches under her jacket to the black string of the necklace around her neck. Her fingers find and trace the outline of the silver rabbit hanging from it.

The chance to chase an old dream. It was time to see if it would come true.

--

Author’s Note: 

Too much fluff? :P

Yes, this was heavily inspired by 500 Days of Summer lol. I had thought of having the days in mixed order like in the movie but decided to keep it linear so as to not confuse people. 

Let me know what y’all think. :)

[cowboymirio]

They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~ 

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake! 

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up. 

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever 

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest 

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’) 

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet 

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3 

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY?? 

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.  

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys 

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny 

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me 

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them)  flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now. 

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh 

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU Pt. 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

---

tw: general howard stark warning

---

There is a buzzing by his ear.

At first, Tony doesn’t really notice it, waking up in short increments before being pulled back under. But he keeps waking, unsure what keeps tugging him out of his dreams, hand flapping around his face as he tries to stop the incessant ringing.

“Blergh,” he mumbles into his pillow.

Batting his hand around to quell the source of annoyance, he comes to grip his phone, squinting as it lights up inches away from his face and vibrates against his palm. For a second he thinks it’s his alarm, but then he remembers that he didn’t set one. It’s a succession of text notifications cascading down his screen that alerts him out of the slope of slumber with a start.

The only time his phone goes off like this is an emergency. The first thing he registers is that it’s only eight-minutes after seven. He blinks, sight clearing from the sleep wedged in his eye as he reads the flurry of still-incoming texts.

> so thanks for last night > yknow > for the ride > i mean > you know what i mean > anyway > so that folder i gave you had my BIO notes, not econ > im such a doofus > i need them back > don’t bother looking at them lol > can we meet up?

Tony groans, eyelids heavy as anvils. Jesus christ. He didn’t get home until four after dropping this guy off and he’s already up and bothering him? What gives?

Exhausted and annoyed, he tucks his phone under his pillow and sets it on do-not-disturb for extra measure. There ain’t no way he’s getting up at seven on a Saturday for fucking class notes. Prick.

In his opinion, he’s filled his quote of good deeds for the month and he doesn’t need to be up for another few hours. Whatever it is, he thinks, snuggling into his pillow, he’s sure it can wait.

---

The next time he wakes it’s just after nine. There’s a gap in his curtains allowing a sharp shard of sunlight into the room where it directly pierces into his eyelids. 

He groans tiredly into the drool patch on his pillow, willing sleep to come back to him, turning on his other side, gripping the edges of the quilt and tightening it around himself until he is firmly cocooned within it. It’s nice and warm, and sleep is such a rare commodity to him so it’s novel to bask in its dregs. But there isn’t any more sleep to come he’s quick to realize, giving up after a few minutes and blinking up at the ceiling. 

Nine is practically six. It’s criminal to be up this early.

There’s an unusual flurry of texts on his phone, some from Rhodey, but most of them are from Parker, an endless ladder of increasing franticness. 

Tony tosses his phone to the end of his bed carelessly. 

It’s been literally less than twelve hours since he’s had to deal with the shithead. Surely whatever was lodged up his ass couldn’t possibly be as important as Tony ignoring him. 

Swinging his legs off the bed, he stands and stretches his arms up high, fingers curling. The stretch feels good and he takes a quick sniff of his armpits to gauge if he can forego a shower for the third day in a row. 

The stench is wicked. It’s possible that he’s overdue.

He strips off as he heads towards the adjacent bathroom, naked and nursing a semi.

He can’t help but shudder as his back meets the cold tiles, the intuitive shower head following his body with a mechanical whir, miscalculating its aim and spraying him in the face.

Ah. That will need to be recalibrated, he notes. 

But, he can’t say he really minds, tolerating the spray, even as it hits his mouth like a fire hose. He ducks his head to wet his hair, reaching blindly for the touchpad to dial down the pressure. Once the water is to his liking he reaches down to take himself in hand, leisurely stroking himself.

It’s just a perfunctory part of his morning ritual; he doesn’t really have anyone in mind as he brings himself to full hardness, just the fleeting memory of lips around his cock, the next of a well rounded ass, not feeling particularly creative. 

Okay, so maybe he pictures some big, brown eyes and dark hair he can run his fingers through. And maybe he goes off like a rocket. That’s his business.

Anyway, once he’s out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he inspects his appearance in the mirror. The bruises on his face are still pretty gruesome, deep purple and beginning to yellow around the edges. The cut on his lip seems to be well and truly scabby.

Turning to the side, Tony takes observation of his overall torso region; his stomach is not as defined as he’d like it to be - probably due to his affinity for carbs and sweets, if he’s honest. Between a few fingers he can pinch the skin and pull it a little -- and look, he’s a bit soft around the middle, but he lifts, alright. Maybe he isn’t exactly steel cut like the dudebros on the football team who have made being ripped their life mission, but he has musculature under the adipose.

Is he a little self-conscious about it? Sure. Is he worried about it enough to give up garlic bread and cronuts? No. Especially when he spots a new chest hair nestled comfortably between his pecs.

Probably a bit too proud of himself because of a singular piece of hair, Tony gets dressed in a pair of jeans that have seen better days, speckled with singe marks and thinning at the knees and a singlet, slinging on his leather jacket for the finishing touch. 

He almost forgets the bot.

“Look at you,” he says, to the mangled mess of metal on his desk. Scooping the injured, beeping bot Tony stuffs it into his backpack. “Come here, darling. Shh, you’re okay.”

Peering both ways out of the hall to ensure the coast is clear, he quickly descends the stairs, shushing the bot the whole way.

On the ground floor, he pauses when he hears voices coming from his father’s office. It takes a second to recognise the voices, his father and Stane arguing over one another, loudly, then softly. He tries to listen in, catching somewhat audible hisses about the company finance officer.

Careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak he tiptoes to the kitchen to pocket a few muesli bars and a water bottle from the fridge. 

The voices get progressively louder as he sneaks to the front door, silently saluting their maid as he passes. She waves back at him, offering a sympathetic smile as he goes out the door. 

His heart pounds as he reaches his car, parked around the corner street. 

“Alright, baby,” he grins, revving the engine. “Let’s go.”

---

“The fuck?”

It’s hard to be sure, but perhaps Rhodey doesn’t expect Tony’s unannounced arrival at his front door. Not if the furious scowl and bunny slippers on his feet are anything to go by.

Nonetheless, he slips past the front door, welcoming himself into his friends home, despite the exasperated outcry of for fucks sake Tony, it’s Saturday and it’s not even noon, can’t you call ahead? 

No, he can’t call. Well, actually, he reconsiders, heading down the hall to the basement, his friends footsteps echoing behind him, he probably could, but it wouldn’t make anyone less mad at him, so what’s the point?

Besides, judging by the empty driveway and barren living room, Rhodey’s family is already out, he’s not sure what the issue is.

“The issue is I am tired, man,” his friend complains, following him down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Me too, honeybear, freakin’ exhausted,” Tony mutters, skipping down the stairs. “Go back to bed. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“Oh sure, and let you solder your fingers together again. Nah. Not taking the fall for that.”

“I’m not going to solder my fingers together. I’m a pro.”

“Unless you need me to remind you of last summer,” Rhodey takes a seat at the workbench, “I suggest you shut up.”

“You’re rude, you know that?” Tony asks, retrieving the bot from his backpack and setting it upon the bench. “I’ll have you know that I’ve learned since then.”

“And yet you still refuse to wear gloves,” his friend sighs, settling heavily upon the adjacent chair. There’s a comfortable quiet between them while Tony works, carefully settling all the pieces onto the table, moving each with care.

It’s hard to miss the weight of observation on the back of his neck, but he lets his friend drink his fill before he’s ready to speak.

“You fuck up something?” He points to the bot.

Tony shakes his head, pressing the solder into the circuit board. “No. Well, yes. The coding is perfect, as usual, but this idiot isn’t any smarter than a Roomba. He’s meant to be smarter.”

“So?

“He is smarter. I dunno, sometimes he messes up,” Tony mumbles, reaching blindly for the bent-nose pliers before Rhodey places it in his hand. “He’s not bad, just dumb. It’s not his fault.”

“And again, what happened? Did you run him over?”

“No, the old man got sick of me playing with ‘toys’. Dumb-dumb here met the wall in a very dramatic fashion. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.”

There’s a sigh from behind him.

“Does that explain your face?”

Tony glances behind him and smirks. 

“You mean my dashing good looks?”

“Tony.”

“Honestly? I got into a fight with a feral racoon that ran off with some old lady’s purse. It nearly cost me an eye, but I saved the day. She called me a hero, gave me some stale crackers from her purse and then gave me her number.”

“Tony.”

“Fine. I was skateboarding. I was in the middle of executing a super complicated kickflip but lost control when an enlarged gutter rat scurried in front of me. I flew headfirst into the gravel. Very embarrassing. That work?”

“Tony.”

“Look, just leave it will ya? God, you’re like a nagging wife. Pick whichever story makes you feel all nice and fuzzy inside.”

Rhodey is suddenly before him, waving something in his face. “Your phone, jackass. Your better half is calling?”

Huh?

Tony blinks, gently setting down the pliers and the chip he’d removed, taking his phone. It vibrates, Your Better Half flashing across the screen. 

“Parker, ugh.” 

He really should have changed the contact name by now, he thinks, swiping to answer.

“Alcoholics Anonymous,” Tony answers by way of greeting. “How may I direct your call?”

“Ha ha, very funny, asshole. So you are awake. I’ve been trying to contact you all morning.”

“I know. I’m beginning to think you actually might have separation issues,” Tony says. “I just got rid of you like eight hours ago.”

“I’m calling about the folder. Didn’t you read my texts?“

“Oh, I read them,” Tony settles back on the stool and continues to work on the main circuit. “See, I was just ignoring you. Hoping you’d take the hint, but I forget subtlety is lost on you.”

“Look, I need my notes. Can we meet up?”

“Right, for Bio,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“No. I, uh -- I have a test first period. I need to study for it.”

“Uh-huh. Just remember, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. You’ll be fine.”

“I take AP Bio, asswipe, I’m aware of that. Can I just get it back, please?”

“You take AP Bio? Was that an admin error or something?” he asks, holding the chip he’d retrieved earlier up to the light to inspect for any damage. 

It looks to be ok. The damage to the bot overall seems to be mostly cosmetic, couple of scratches, a few dents. Nothing that a few replacement panels wont fix. Whatever he hasn’t already got stored here Rhodey will surely have spare parts, it’ll be fine. God, what would he do if his friend didn’t lovingly tolerate Tony using his space for storage and barging in whenever he lucks. It’s lucky Rhode’s parents are so chill though, unlike his own. He may be a hot-head but he’s practically a saint compared to -

“ - hello? Are you still there? I can hear you breathing.”

Tony blinks. “Right. Your notes. Look, I’m kinda busy. I have a life outside of you and I don’t actually care about your academic integrity, so, you’re gonna have to wait.”

“For how long?”

“I’ll drop them off this evening, like six-ish. Hey, maybe we could do that interview with May if she’ll be around.”

“...I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“C’mon, I already told you I’m not actually hot for your aunt. I’ll be professional.”

Rhodey shoots him a bewildered look.

“That’s not what -- look, whatever. Just don’t be late okay. I have a life outside of you too.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. I’ll try and not get in the way of your weekend plans of crying while you masturbate.”

“I literally hate you.”

“And yet you aren’t denying the crying. Anyway, I have to go now, try to clean yourself up before I get there. See you at six, bubby,” he hangs up, cracking his neck before refocusing on his mangled creation. “Now where were we?”

“What the fuck.”

Tony pauses, pliers in hand. There is a particular expression on Rhodey’s face erring on the side of confused and haunted. 

“What?”

“’Bubby’?”

“Don’t say it like that - it’s like an inside thing. Don’t repeat it to him, alright, he’ll get pissy. And then I’ll get pissy.”

“You know it’s just a project, right? You two aren’t actually married.”

“Thank god. Could you imagine being married to that guy?” Tony shudders. “Scary.”

“Two weeks ago you said he was the bane of your existence. Now you have ‘inside things’ with him? You saw him last night?”

He sighs, shoulders dropping. Yeah, he doesn’t really have a good explanation for any of that. 

The thing about himself, Tony’s found over time and trial, is that he really, really likes to press buttons. He likes to test variables, wants to see what would happen if he did something he wasn’t supposed to, and map out the world as it occurs in motion around him. Curiosity means he likes to test the parameters, to see what can yield, what will bite back.

More often than not that kind of impulsive brand of curiosity has gotten him in some sort of trouble. Turns out not everything and everyone appreciates being tested - and many things like to lash out when pressed.  

Parker, Tony has found, is somebody that doesn’t yield or bite. If Tony was a betting man he’d have placed his money on the boy being more of a yielding type - but what he does is he presses buttons just as much as Tony does, buttons he didn’t even know he had to be pressed. 

And that very much interests Tony.

He just doesn’t know what to do with that information, except to keep pressing.

“I’ll explain later,” Tony promises, mentally crossing his fingers. “In the meantime, can we forget about Parker and focus on my broken baby here?”

Rhodey relents, but Tony knows that look in his eye. He’ll be hearing about it later and at the most inconvenient time. And he’s gonna tell Pepper.

Wonderful.

He really should change Peter’s contact name in his phone.

---

By the time he leaves the Rhodes residence and heads to his next destination, his robot is in somewhat in working order again. It remains fairly immobile though, just until Tony can replace the damaged infrared and touch sensor. It clicks its metal claws sadly towards Tony in the passenger seat as he drives.

It’s a Roy Orbison kind of day, so the music is loud and the guitar is heavy as he makes the drive to Harlem.

And if Tony frees a hand to pat the bot on its’ metal head every so often, that’s his business.

When he reaches the other side of the city he parks in his usual space at a nearby lot and contemplates whether or not he should leave the malfunctioning bot in his car for the sake of being professional. It clicks at his jacket, weakly grasping the material as if on a plea - and damn, Tony knows the thing isn’t actually sentient but what kind of asshole would he be if he left it here for the day.

Heart squeezing with sympathy, Tony delicately places him in the backpack, leaving the zip partially open for ‘air’.

Next, snacks.

While he’s retrieving a pack (or two) of Reeses, he comes across Parker’s folder that he’d stashed there last night. Their conversation from earlier returns to the forefront of his mind.

Look, Parker might not be the knuckle-dragging, monosyllabic dumbass Tony initially suspected that he was, and yeah he was savvy as demonstrated during their trip to the rental market - and yeah, definitely smarter than his social circle would suggest, and is absolutely and a source of constant surprise to Tony - but is he AP Bio - or AP anything material? 

Time to find out.

The first thing that Tony notices is that the notes are definitely not for Bio. They’re for Econ, as initially prescribed. 

The second thing he notices, as he flicks through the papers, skimming over the complicated graphs and annotated research, is that what he’s reading is actually good. 

Well, I’ll be darned, Tony thinks, eyes getting progressively wider as he flicks through the pages. Not bad at all.

Makes him wonder why Parker thought he was missing his Bio notes though.

The answer to that becomes clear when a crumpled envelope falls out of the stack onto Tony’s lap. He picks it up, at first thinking it’s a part of the research, but pauses. It’s open and it’s addressed to May Parker.

“Um,” he says.

It’s from Queens Presbyterian Hospital, which should make him drop it as if it were burning. It doesn’t, though. Either it’s meant to be included in the folder, or it’s not and that’s why Parker has been acting like a crazy-ex all morning.

Hmm. Tony sits there, torn, debating whether or not to look into it, the overdue stamp standing out against the crisp paper like a warning sign. On one hand, he’s running kinda late and, y’know, privacy or whatever -- on the other, his fingers are already itching to know what’s in it.

Mind your own business, he can already hear Rhodey saying, mind your own business, Tony.

Curiosity and a distinct lack of a moral compass wins, as always. Just a quick peek, that should be okay, right? The envelope is already open anyway, so, it’s not like anyone will be able to tell.

God, this is none of my business, he tells himself, even as he’s retrieving the letter from within and starts reading it. 

Oh.

Tony quickly stashes the letter back into the envelope and back into the folder. Yep, definitely none of his business. 

Yeah, he really shouldn’t have done that. Big fucking yikes on his behalf. And yep, there’s the guilt -- or at least he thinks the stomach churning is guilt, it could be the stale muesli bar he ate on the way.

Nonetheless, it hangs over him like a dark cloud as he picks up his backpack and heads out to the garage across the road. What kind of asshole looks into someone’s mail because they can’t help themselves. This dick, that’s who.

Fixing a grin he doesn’t really feel, he heads to the back office. He knocks on the window, ducking his head into the open door.

“Yo,” he waves to the man sitting behind the desk. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Hey kid,” the man looks up, smiling before his face drops. “Tony, your face. What happened?”

“This? It’s nothing --”

“-- is that why you couldn’t come to work yesterday? Not that I mind,” the man stands up. “Are you okay? Was it --”

“-- Was it nothing to worry about? Absolutely,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “Just an unfortunate encounter with a wild, feral squirrel in Central Park. I tell you, they’re deceivingly cute, but they’re pests. Totally out of control.”

“Tony.”

“Jarvis,” he interrupts, gesturing to the cars in the garage behind him. “C’mon. Look, let’s get to work, okay? Save the violins for later.”

And by later he means never.

The man sighs, world-weary, looking at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. At first he’s certain his boss is going to push the issue, but it must be a day for dodging bullets because he relents.

“Alright, kid. I got a ninety-four Ford sedan back there with your name on it. Busted fan belt, overheated engine. Probably needs a new set of spark plugs while you’re at it.”

With a grateful nod, Tony heads back, locating the vehicle in question. It’s rusted to all hell and probably not worth the cost of repair, but he gets stuck into it anyway, keen for a distraction. He sets his bag and bot down near him while Jarvis blasts Alice Cooper’s Poison.

Tony might not have all the answers to life’s problems, but this is something he knows how to fix.

---

He probably distracts himself a little too well, because by the time he’s wrapped up with the Ford it’s already five-thirty and he’s a mess of engine oil and coolant.

It’s only when Jarvis squeezes his shoulder and points to the clock on the far wall does he realise that he’s lost his sense of time. How the fuck is he supposed to clean up and get all the way from Harlem to Queens at this time of night?

“Ah, crap,” Tony mutters, setting down his socket-wrench in his toolbox. “I’m late.”

“Late for what? You got a hot date or something?” Jarvis asks, stepping back to give him some room as he rushes to the staff bathroom. 

“What, no,” He calls back, running the faucet and pumping soap over his hands. “I gotta go see about a guy.” He struggles to hear his boss over the running water but he doesn’t have time to stop and figure it out. 

“From school?”

“Yes, and a prime pain in my ass,” Tony mutters, drying his hands on his jeans, walking back into the garage. “Anyway, see you Monday, chief?”

His boss nods, passing Tony his earnings for the week in cash. Tony should have known to dash and run because he starts hearing the proverbial violins when Jarvis clamps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that is more paternal than Tony is comfortable with. 

“You know you can call me, you have my number. You come up and see me and the missus whenever you want.”

Tony fake snores.

“Jarvis.”

“We have a spare room,” he insists, shrugging sheepishly and stepping back. “It’s yours at any time.”

“I see you enough, okay, don’t push it. I’ll see you Monday,” Tony draws him into a one-armed hug and claps him on the back. “Don’t you worry about me.” 

“Don’t make me worry.”

“No promises,” Tony salutes, slinging his backpack on shoulder and walking backwards out of the garage to the street. “Hug the missus for me.”

Jarvis salutes back. 

With that he sprints across the street when there’s a gap in traffic, bot snapping gently at his hair as he runs.

Sweaty and sore, he is full of energy, a sense of accomplishment coursing through his blood, like an afternoon of work can only provide. He should fire off a text, he thinks, as he starts the ignition and heads out onto the road, yeah. Let Parker know he will be late.

And he does genuinely mean to send a message at the next traffic stop, but then Queen starts playing on the radio and Tony isn’t a fool, okay, he turns that up loud.

Next traffic stop, he promises himself.

---

��I’m beginning to think you can’t read the time,” Parker opens the door with a scowl. “You said six.”

Wincing in the hallway, Tony looks at his phone. Six-fifty-nine. It’s not totally his fault, okay. There was a pile up along the way and traffic was a nightmare of  ridiculous proportions. He swears he’s gonna be the first person to invent a commercially viable flying car just for the sake of personally avoiding road congestion.

“Yeah, so. Here’s the thing: I had things to do, okay, priorities --”

“You and your priorities, I swear to god --”

“Here,” Tony cuts him off, passing him his folder, letter neatly inside where it isn’t going to obviously slip out. “Your folder, dumbass.”

Peter grips it, holding it to his chest as he stares at Tony for a moment, before passing it to the nearest flat surface, a weathered and small table that holds their keys.

“Okay, thanks,” Peter nods, smiling grimly, looking behind his shoulder. “Appreciate it. You can go now.”

“So where are the Econ notes,” Tony blurts, wincing as he plays dumb. “I mean, if you had something prepared.”

Peter blinks, surprised. “Oh, uh. Um, It can wait until Monday, can’t it?”

“The assignment is due Wednesday.”

“Right. Um, just give me a sec --”

“Is that Tony?”

May appears behind Peter, smiling brightly. Tony waves, rocking back on his feet. 

“Hey, Missus Parker.”

“Hey there, handsome,” she hip-checks her nephew, joining him in the doorway and glancing between the two. “You didn’t mention we were having company tonight, Pete.”

“He’s not handsome and he’s not staying --”

“-- I was just dropping something off,” he looks to Peter. “And excuse you, the lady has spoken and I have to agree. I am handsome. Some might even say that I’m debonair.”

“And some might say that you’re deplorable.”

“Hmm, I think you mean adorable.”

That prompts a smile out of Peter. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his chin up, all haughty.

“Tony Stark, you are many things, but adorable isn’t one of them.”

He leans in, pouting playfully. “Oh come on, Parker. I’m a little cute, aren’t I?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“Uh, let me check,” Peter pauses before smiling sardonically. “Verdicts in - jury says you’re one-hundred-percent despicable. Sorry.”

"I’m sure I could sway the jury.”

“I think you mean you could pay the jury.”

Tony nods, pretending to be serious. “Well, yeah. You know, for consensus.”

Peter licks his lips, shifting closer.

“Consensus is important...”

“...Well, if you two are done,” May says after an extended period of silence, tying her hair back into a ponytail. “We were just about to head out to a Thai place around the corner. Tony, you should join us.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I should go --”

The rest of his words are cut off by a truly monstrous growl of his stomach. He winces, scrunching up his nose sheepishly. He probably should have eaten more than Reeses all afternoon.

“Well, I guess that settles that,” May says, stepping out of the doorway and beckoning Tony in. “Come in. Sorry about the mess.” 

It’s with Peter still staring at him that he reluctantly enters their apartment, brushing past the other boy. It looks the same as it did the other week, mostly tidy and smelling like incense. There’s a sizeable stack of unfolded laundry on the dining table, however, that wasn’t there before. 

Tony’s distracted by a pair of dancing-bulbasaur boxers sticking out of the pile when May leans in close to sniff at his hair. 

“You’ve got something in your hair, honey. Is that paint?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, palm coming back streaked with green. “Oh, uh, radiator fluid,” he explains, holding up his hand. 

“Can I ask what you did to your face?”

“I saved a homeless guy and his beef-sandwich from a pack of rabid, angry dogs. No need to call me a hero.”

May looks at him oddly. “Oh, well, if you say so. Go get yourself washed up and we can head out.”

The burn of Peter’s stare follows him all the way to their bathroom.

---

The meal is less awkward than Tony thought it would be.

Well, for him at least.

Over larb and khao pad they’d gotten through an informal interview with May about her experience as a caregiver with a single income. Not only was it informative for his own future financial independence, but she has been generous enough to speckle in colorful anecdotes of her nephew’s upbringing. Parker’s face has been getting progressively redder all night and it has nothing to do with the spice in his food.

Tony has enjoyed the evening thoroughly.

“ - and of course, we were lucky we hadn’t decided to go cheap on the health insurance. Especially when Pete here broke his wrist at gymnastics when he was eight.”

Tony barely holds back a snort. 

“You did gymnastics, Parker?”

Peter tips his head back to stare at the ceiling and sighs. The flush seems to be creeping down his neck too, Tony observes gleefully. He stuffs a large mouthful of rice in his mouth to mitigate the urge to tease. 

"Yes, he was very good, weren’t you, Pete? So talented, you should see his medals.”

“Stop, please.”

“C’mon, no need to be embarrassed, Pete, you were amazing,” she says. “You’re still a flexible little bug, aren’t you?”

Tony chokes on his rice.

Peter has his eyes squeezed shut and looks like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. 

“May, I’m literally begging you.”

“Uh,” he beats at his chest with his fist, swallowing roughly. “So how long did you do that for?”

“Until I was fourteen.”

“Why’d you quit?”

There’s a very deliberate, weighted pause. May and Peter share a look between them and Tony gets a deeply uncomfortable sense that he’s just stuck his foot in it. Retract, he thinks, already regretting opening his mouth.

“Well,” May clears her throat, her tone light. “After my husband, Pete’s uncle Ben died, we moved away and we had to make some... financial cuts at the time.”

The bite he’s just taken goes to ash in his mouth. God, he really is a big idiot isn’t he. He’d assumed that May never got married to the man in the photos or that they’d just divorced, he didn’t realise that he’d passed - and so recently, too. Welling up with shame, he can’t stop himself from glancing at Peter, who’s staring at the table, lips pursed.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” May waves her hand dismissively, but her smile is strained. “Anyway, what about you, Tony? You’re severely asthmatic, right? That must have been hard, growing up if you wanted to play sports.”

Tony’s eyes widen.

“Yes, um, so hard. Luckily I’m not really an exercise-y kinda guy. I personally prefer to keep a heart rate below eighty beats per minute.”

“Did you have any hobbies growing up?”

“Yeah, driving my parents crazy,” Tony says, glad for the shift from the somber topic. “Escaping from nannies, seeing how quickly I could get them to quit.”

“You like tinkering,” Peter says quietly, looking up. “You mentioned, before. Cars and stuff.”

He shrugs, starting to feel as if he’s under the microscope, especially when Peter looks at him, eyes glittering with thinly-veiled interest. 

“I mean, I don’t know. I like - building stuff, I guess. Machines and robots, y’know, cars. It’s like, whatever.”

“You want to be the next Elon Musk or somethin’?” Peter asks, not unkindly, resting his chin on his hand.

“Nah, I wanna be the first Tony Stark,” he scratches his cheek, suddenly bashful. It’s an uncommon feeling for him. One hard to avoid, however, particularly when there is a boy who Tony doesn’t really hate who’s asking about his life like it might matter. 

He clears his throat. “Anyway, mostly it was just me cataloguing all the ways I could make the vein in my fathers’ head pop. I’m still working on that.”

May looks between them, smiling.

“Sounds like you were a handful.”

“Sure was.”

Still is, apparently, no matter how much he tries to stay out of the way.

The silence that follows is punctuated by the sounds of cutlery scraping across plates, of shrinking ice cubes rattling against glass. It feels pensive at the same time as it does thorny, like Tony opened the door to let someone in but accidentally let out a few ghouls.

And despite knowing he’d stepped on a landmine with the Parkers, he can’t help but wonder what other pieces of the puzzle he’s missing. Why Peter doesn’t live with his parents. Not that Tony is invested in him or anything.

He just doesn’t like mysteries, that’s all.

May excuses herself after to head to the bathroom not long after. It’s during that time that the waiter brings the check, which Tony takes immediately, slipping in some of the cash he’d gotten earlier, despite Peter’s protests. He was gonna do it anyway, even if he didn’t have the letter in the back of his mind.

“Stop paying for me,” Peter says after he passes the check-book back to the waiter. “Your family is rich, I get it. I’ve told you, I don’t need your charity.”

Tony shakes his head. It’s not worth mentioning that the only money he spends doesn’t come from his family.

“It’s not charity. Do you really think I’m that nice, eh? C’mon. Maybe I like lording it over you.”

“Well, at some point I’m going to pay you back.”

“And when that time comes I’m not going to accept your money.”

“You will,” Peter smiles wryly down at his plate. “I have my ways.”

“As do I, sweetums. Now, do me a favour: shut up and finish your larb.”

Peter does, but something about him shifts. It seems more quiet and contemplative, his eyes staying longer on Tony than they normally would. He wants to tell him to take a picture, but for once, Tony thinks it’s probably best if he keeps his mouth shut.

---

Back at the apartment, Peter goes to retrieve his ‘Econ notes’, taking the folder from the table and retreating to his bedroom. In the interim, May offers to let Tony stay over, inviting him for what he’s sure would be a rousing game of Mario Kart. 

He politely declines.

“You sure? Winner gets to choose a movie.”

“I should really get home,” he says. “Thanks though. And thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. Thank you for paying, you didn’t have to do that. Let me pay you back.”

“No need. Think of it as payment for your services and letting us pick your brain tonight.”

She reluctantly accepts with a lot less pride than what her nephew displayed and that makes Tony feel a little sick, because it’s evident that she’s a proud and stubborn woman by nature. Her acceptance, albeit laboured, speaks volumes as to the reasoning behind it.

What takes him by surprise is when she hugs him goodbye and kisses his cheek.

“You’re a good egg, Anthony. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

It’s probably the most maternal touch he’s had since, well. Probably since he last went to stay with Jarvis and his wife. Fidgeting in the hold, he’s not sure if he wants to squirm or to sink into it.

May leaves when Peter comes back in, a familiar stack of notes in his hands that he passes to Tony.

“You gonna kiss me goodbye, too?”

“What?” Peter blinks.

"Uh, never mind,” Tony waves the papers at him. “Thanks for this.”

Peter looks around to make sure they’re alone before leaning in rather promptly. 

“Wow, hold up on the proximity there,” Tony inches back, startled by their sudden closeness. “I was joking about the kiss --”

“You read the letter, didn’t you,” Peter whisper-hisses.

“What? Letter? What letter?” Tony says, voice strangled. “I don’t know of any letter.”

He gets a painful poke in his chest for his lies.

“Don’t play dumb. It wasn’t where I left it.”

“I’m not -- ow, quit poking me.”

“Then stop lying. You’re unbelievable -- don’t you know that opening someone else’s mail is a crime?”

Tony’s shoulders slump as he concedes.

“Look, it was an accident, it just slipped out. And also, it’s not technically a crime, if the envelope was already open.”

“Oh and the letter magically opened itself and forced you to read it.” 

“That could be argued.”

“Why couldn’t you mind your own business?“

Sick of being poked, he shoves the papers between his arm and his ribs to hold them and takes Peter’s fingers in his hands, squeezing the digits when they struggle to break free of his hold.

“I should have, I admit it - I didn’t think, okay, I’m sorry. Is she okay?”

Peter stops struggling, looking over his shoulder again.

“I don’t know,” he leans in again to whisper, “I only found it yesterday, I haven��t spoken to her yet. Look, I know you hate me, but can you please not tell anyone about this?”

“Why would I tell anyone?”

“I don’t know, because you’re the devil, and you get a kick out of seeing me suffer?”

“True, but I’m not going to tell anyone. Promise. That would make me look like an asshole and you like a martyr. Ergo, I shut my cake hole and continue looking better than you.”

“You’re a real prince charming,” the other boy huffs, but seems to take him at face value. “If I find out differently I’m going to come after you. You’re going to need dental work afterwards.”

Tony lets go of their joined hands, balling his fists and raising them to his face, mimicking what the other boy had done last night. 

“You wanna tousle, huh?”

He gets a light shove out the doorway for his attitude.

“Alright, smartass. Get the fuck outta here already.”

“Going, going. Goodnight, princess.”

He mock bows, peering up under his eyelashes, momentarily arrested as he watches Parker roll his eyes and bite his bottom lip in an attempt to smother a smile. 

His heart continues to beat a bit oddly all the way down to the car, where he sits in contemplative silence for a few moments until the sound of metal clicking shifts him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, hey you,” he coos, gently retrieving his bot from his bag and placing it in the passenger seat, instantly feeling bad. “I didn’t think I would take so long. I’m sorry.”

Placing a seatbelt over the bot and buckling him in, Tony begins to narrate his night to him as he pulls off the curb and begins driving.

“I guess that Parker isn’t so bad,” he tells the bot, who swivels its head in response to his voice. “I mean, he can’t dress for shit and has questionable tastes in friends - oh, and cannot hold his liquor - but I dunno, baby-bot. He’s okay. Don’t tell anyone I said that, though -- and oh my god, did I mention he did gymnastics, what a fucking dork...”

The thoughts churn and buoy him until he pulls up to his house nearly an hour later. From the driveway he can see his fathers office light still on.

The sight of it makes his stomach drop, all good cheer gone in an instant. 

“Damn,” Tony whispers to himself, tapping his knuckles against the steering wheel. This time of night on a Saturday can only mean one thing and he is really not in the mood to be in the crosshairs of whatever his father and Stane are up to.

But before he can work himself into a worry his phone vibrates in his pocket.

> hey, look, thanks for not being a total dick tonight about everything > and last night as well, I guess > yknow what i mean < ur welcome < by the way, i’m proud of you  > for what < not finishing off ur aunts beer tonight < takes strength < asking for help is the first step > omfg i take back what i said > ur the worst < and ur a pain in my ass > they have creams for that u know > anyway, g’nite, butthole > p.s. you’re still not adorable Tony smiles down at his phone. < goodnight bambi The bot clicks at him, breaking him out of his train of thought.

“Don’t look at me like that. Let’s go in, but you gotta keep quiet, okay.”

He manages to avoid detection and attention from anyone, despite accidentally stepping on a squeaky floorboard. Maybe it had something to do with the record player and raucous laughter coming from the office.

In any case, Tony’s just happy to make it back to his bedroom. There, he toes off his sneakers and starts getting ready for bed, stashing the leftover cash into a drawer.

It makes him think about Peter’s reluctance for Tony to pay for over the last couple of instances, and how freaking annoying that is. And rude. 

Honestly, the dude should count himself as one of the lucky guys - Tony is not that magnanimous. He doesn’t experience an impulsive, unthinking eagerness to provide for just anybody.

Oh.

Tony stills in the middle of his bedroom.

Oh no.

He knows what this is.

“This is bad.”

---

*

*

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tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny,  @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers @starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar , @starkerforlife6969, @css1992, @parkerrbitch, @fuckmemrstark, @blankblankityblank, @ilovemoreid, @blaquedecember, @killmylonelysoul, @notfor-temporaryuse, @arvaen

[junnibook]

Pt.2 Can I request nsfw alphabet's For 1.hawks 2.iwa-chan 3.daichi 4. SHIGARAKI!!

Shigaraki Tomura nsfw alphabet.

A/n: have fun you dust loving reader 🙏🏼

Q: would you force skin care on him?

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

wait, your alive? like your not a pile of dust on his bed? wow okay.. well firstly his aftercare sucks, just saying, he doesn’t care to stay around and if he does have deep feelings for you it would still suck because he’ll either go do “work” or he’ll play the game. his way of after care is keeping you alive so don’t push it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes your boobs and your face. one he’s like a child and most children cling to their mothers chest plus he likes the size and how they feel. they do have a lot of bite marks. he likes your face because of all the fear and emotions you show him. he cant get enough of that, make those faces for him more often. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he’s a messy boy. okay so one his cum would taste overly salty so if your a swallower get a cup of water because your gonna need it, two its super thick for no reason at all. he likes to leave his cum any and everywhere. he doesn’t came if it’s messy. you turned him on, purposely so that’s your problem.

D = Dick size ( the size of their dick)

he’s above average and isn’t too thick but makes up for it in length. i wouldn’t say he’s a proud boy he honestly doesn’t care if he’s big or not, if someone had somethings to say they could gladly be turned into a pile of ash and he would pee on it it and move on with his ashy day.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

none, the boy doesn’t like people before he met you or whom ever, he was like a needy wild animal he had it the first time, didn’t know how to act. just humping away feeling that good ol pleasure and was blinded by it, yea if you had your first with him than he would 100% be rough with you... masochist.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he quickly finds out that he likes to be deep into you- like fully into you, he likes mating press the most, just be on birth control because he doesn’t like condoms like at all. im sure you don’t want any baby shiggys running around turning children into dust right?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

no way, not a chance. you won’t catch him being goofy at all. he has his DICK out and is showing himself to YOU. be glad that you made this far, don’t test him by trying to be goofy. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

100% not shaved or trimmed. why would he? he’s a busy man plus he doesn’t care like at all.. if you have a problem with it shave it your self other than that don’t say anything abt it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

N O he doesn’t know romance it’s not in his mind set. the most he will do that you can call romantic is go easier and or softer on you. if your looking for emotional sex for comfort or something.. get you a side piece and use them for that one thing

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

yea he does, it’s a stress relief and on his pettiest of days he’ll leave his cum near you. he wouldn’t care if you thought it was gross, he’ll leave his cum by you and move on with his day.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he likes: praise kink, because he likes no he loves when you praise him for making you go dumb over his dick. 

he likes giving you just a little pain.. he likes the literal tears in your eyes. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere he pleases which is mostly in his room. all for one told him off the last time he fucked in public since people got a half a look at his face. but if he wasn’t told not to he’d fuck you in public. “ show the hero’s how you take dick from a villain”�� 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

anything- he’s so easily turned on, but if he’s playing the game and you try and distract him- he takes that as a threat and literally will sit on you so that you can’t move- or if he’s angry and almost won and you made him lose, he’ll grab you by the neck, have his thumb dangerously close to the rest of his fingers on your throat pull you close and look into your eyes. “stop being annoying before i makes you regret it “ 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

sit down loves he isn’t a bottom nor does he want to try it out, he’s top and if you don’t like it - leave {btw you cant leave because he literally won’t let you} he also doesn’t eat you out- he thinks it’s gross-

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

his head is terrible, he hates eating you out AND him fingering you is like Russian roulette, his thumb might accidently meet up with the rest of his fingers and turn your pussy into dust- no more wap for you, you now have the dap {dusty ass puh} also he might let you suck him might not- he has trust issues and he doesn’t trust your teeth. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

like i said- he isn’t the type to go slow, he’s chasing his own pleasure si yes he will go hard and fast nonstop. safe words are needed but will be ignored- just saying so if you don’t like it so rough that your legs give out for a few days than find a new partner because he isn’t for you love. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickies are basically you sucking him up while he plays the game - if you want him that bad than you can wait until he wants to get off the game and fuck you, lucky for you it isn’t a long wait.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he use to be risky until he had his face shown at his attacks and so he can’t be risky and fuck you out in public to often, before he was seen he would fuck you in public places- where they could hear you moan 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can last up to two rounds- sorry maybe three if he’s needy and maybe four if he’s stressed which is all the time.. so it depends on his mood because it changes from time to time as you know.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn’t have time for things likes that and besides but how much he’s giving you- you wouldn’t be able to think about anything yet alone toys. he thinks they are weird and un needed. “are you saying my dick isn’t good enough for you? “ say no if you want, he’ll have you in tears begging for him in minutes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

meh- not to much he doesn’t have time to waste on teasing you, he has plans and wouldn’t want to pause them just to tease you, take the dick and go to sleep. it’ll knock you out for sure so sleep up before he wants more. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he doesn’t moan he insults- like degradation kink is a small kink of his, he likes the way it sounds coming form him and he loves the way you repeat it when he tells you too, because who are you to refuse him. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he is down to share you, he likes the idea of breaking you down while using another guys dick. that would probably be a punishment though, like if you happened tp the extra annoying that day and just kept brothering him. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

his dick is ashy so be careful don’t get rub burn- im joking it’s not ashy probably  the most non ashy  place on his body,

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not as high as you might think- taking down the heros will always come first on his mind- his games are second and you come.. well last- your the last thing on his mind. no offense.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

knocked out no questions asked, your knocked out too for sure, he put you straight tp sleep. so take the sleep while you can.

[mintmatcha]

9 months, 28 days

Chapter 3 of 10 Months

CW: discussions of death

A/N: this is the end of the beginning! im not sure exactly how long this stories going to be but yolo

The cafe is almost empty, just like always. That’s why they loved this place so much as kids. No one they knew was ever here, sitting in the mothball scented booths- only the occasional elderly couple who didn’t give a fuck that the place hadn’t updated it’s decor since 1995. Clouds rolled in overnight, painting the town a somber grey. Mattsun feels like it should match his mood, but it doesn’t. He’s not sad, he just… is. There’s this weird, turbulent void in his chest where his despair should lie.

Hanamaki’s in the corner when he arrives, nestled into the booth with a mug. He watches the rain trickle down the window, tracing the paths of the drops with his finger tips. It’s very ‘white girl protagonist’ Mattsun decides. Like he’s the star of a Hallmark movie. The void in his chest pulses and he swears, just for a flash, it was warm.

“Hanamaki.” Mattsun slides in across from him.

“Well, lookie here at the big boy in his big boy suit.” Hanamaki taps his nails against the glass, not even looking at his friend. “Did your mom help you pick that out?”

“This is technically a business meeting, so I had to wear something nice.” he explains. “Or else my boss is going to think I’m just screwing around.”

That’s what it feels like. It feels like work. He’s just putting all of this into his little box, so he can file it away in the storage files of his mind. He’ll process it later, when the moment’s right.

Or never.

Makki tents his fingers together, like he’s some sort of super villain. He’s always had this casual, uncaring air about him, but it seems to have developed further into a chaotic mess. “Ah, so you’ve decided to plan my fun-eral.”

The black haired man sighs. “Only if you stop calling it that.”

The waitress wanders up, expecting orders in her typical, unfriendly way. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume it was the same woman from years ago, still equally sick of her job.

Neither of the men look at the menu. Mattsun orders a cheeseburger omelette and a coffee with six sugars, the same horrible thing he’s been getting since high school. ‘The American Experience’, they called it. Makki orders plain toast, notably not the same thing he’s been getting since high school.

“You should eat more,” Mattsun says, “You’re too thin.”

“Who are you? My mom?” he takes a long swip from his mug,

“If I was, I wouldn’t be-” Mattsun stops himself, much to Makki’s delight.

“Oh, please make a dead mom joke. Please.” Makki’s on the edge of his seat, leaning halfway across the table, “My mom would have loved you making a joke about her.”

Mattsun slinks down so far that his knees pump against the booth across from him. “That’s… yeah, you’re right. She would have loved it.”

Mattsun wants to say he misses her, but it doesn't seem fair. To miss Hanamaki Hana would be to miss Hanamaki Takahiro, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to miss Hiro.

Makki looks exactly like his father. He's there in the too thin nose, the gap between his canines and molars, and the clubbed way their fingernails grew.

but his mom's in his idiosyncrasies. She's in the laughter, the winks, the tiny things that make Takahiro himself. Truly a mama's boy, Makki taps his cup against his front teeth the same way she did. It's their thinking face.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mattsun regains control. His notebook and reading materials jut out against his stomach from their spot in his coat.

“Are you really sick?” It surprises both of them. Maybe it was the thought sitting at the top of his head, maybe he meant to say it. All of this just feels too sudden, too random, Mattsun just can’t quiet his doubts.

This is why the time apart was good; Makki made him do stupid things, made his brain stop working.

“I- uh. Yeah.” Makki's face doesn't change, but his shoulders fall. The tension in his body deflates as he goes back to looking out the window. "You're such a dick."

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You really think I’d lie about all of this?” he laughs, but it's flat, "To do what? To crawl back into your life?"

"That's not what-"

"Newsflash, asshole- I've been doing great without you.” the mug slams against the table, “I've been really, truly, wonderfully happy since-"

The other man picks up one of the pieces of toast and examines it, before carefully ripping the crust off. It’s a delicate procedure, carefully peeling off the edge on one, long piece. Makki opens his mouth to continue, then closes it with a low, thoughtful hum as he rolls the crust into a little ball.

"Makki." Mattsun holds up a finger, pausing the conversation for a moment as the waitress approaches. They sit in silence, mumbling only a quiet thank you as she

drops off the plates. She doesn't seem to notice the tension in the air or if she does, she doesn't care. She pours the coffee carefully, counts out the sugar packets like she's rationing them. As soon as she turns, he sighs and curls his hand into a tight fist, holding it in the air for a second before letting it fall. "Continue."

“This was a dumb idea. Forget I even asked you to do this.” he tosses the bread ball into his mouth and chews, “I’m just gonna go.” Standing suddenly, he grabs his coat from the booth beside him.

This would be the third time he let Makki leave and, according to the time left, the last. Life is fickle, an unpredictable lace pattern made by the people in your life coming and going. Mattsun was used to dealing with the final goodbyes and usually found comfort in it. No more chapters to write, all secrets buried and forgotten- truly, nothing left but what you can see in rose colored glasses.

And yet some part of him- the stupid part, the crazy part, the self loathing part- panics at the thought of seeing this end.

"I know you're better without me." Mattsun sighs, "But I want to help you, if you'll still let me."

“Stop.” Mattsun’s heart pounds so hard, dancing across his skin, that he can barely recognize he’s touching Makki, holding his wrist down against the table. “Sit. Eat."

Makki just raises a brow.

Reluctantly, he complies, but not before he tugs his hand out of his friend's grasp, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a sneer. A boundary has been set- no touching.

"I'll let you." he turns his attention back to the mangled food on his plate, "But only because I want to finish my toast."

"We good?" They are not, but Mattsun prays for a lie.

"For now. But watch yourself." It's a win, albeit a half hearted one. Mattsun pulls a tiny notebook from an inner pocket of his coat and flips through the pages until he reaches the last page; it's the farthest out thing he's planning, of course. It’s marked ‘The Hanamaki Service.’

They let the silence sit between them as they pick at what’s in front of them. The terrain of this relationship is uneven, constantly changing. It’s like hiking a mountain in the winter, Mattsun decides, one wrong move, one noise too loud, and the whole thing will come crashing down,

Why does he even care?

Makki’s happy without him, he’s fine without Makki.

He shouldn’t care, and yet he stays.

The black haired man stabs a hunk of egg and watches the half melted cheese try to stretch. “So, to put it all simply: what our home does for you is the basics: Legal procurement, transportation, preparation, and disposition- you don't have to worry about any of it. We also offer a location for interment and service, depending on the type of service you require, of course."

"Location?"

Mattsun takes a bite. "For the service and for you to, um, rest."

"You mean rot."

Maybe eating wasn’t the right choice for this conversation. The texture of egg now feels wrong in his mouth.

"Don't say it like that." The preservatives slow that down, so the rot won't happen for a long time, he brain reminds him. It doesn't help.

"I already have those places picked out though." Mattsun waits for a joke to follow, but he’s surprised when his friend says, "Bury me near my mom and hold the service here."

"Here?" Mattsun asks, “There’s nicer places.”

"Save a dying business with a dead guy. It's irony."

"Okay, well. That's-" he sighs and scribbles into his notebook. This wasn’t going to be a traditional job, was it? "At least the catering is done then."

"Perfect." Makki pushes away his empty plate, "I'm a natural at this. You should hire me.”

"Long term positions only, sorry." It slips out before Mattsun can censor himself, but Makki just snorts into his tea.

It’s frustrating that they click together so well, especially because nothing’s been resolved between them. One minute everything threatens to break, the next they can sit here and joke with each other. The issues sit there, waiting in the corner of the room, cocked and ready to fire. If they just didn’t look, maybe it wouldn’t hurt when it finally attacked.

If they didn’t look, maybe they can pretend nothing happened.

Mattsun reminds himself that he doesn’t care. There's still that blank space inside him.

“Next step would be flowers.”

It’s not. They should discuss embalming versus cremation, but the words stick to his throat. He’s asked so many times before, stared forward as loved ones debated what to do without a care in the world. This time shouldn’t be different.

“I’ll think about it. Can’t say I know too many flowers off the top of my head.” Makki digs his phone from his front pocket and scrolls, looking through everything before tapping out a quick question. There's a twitch of his brow, barely furrow, but it's gone in a flash. Before Mattsun can even ask, Makki's gathered his coat in his hands. “Gotta go.”

“What? We just started-” The whiplash is what hurts. Just as Mattsun feels like he's found his footing, it's gone again, slipping out from under him. This must be some level of hell

"Something came up." he shrugs, "Don't worry about it."

"I won't."

"You're such an asshole." he says, "You're supposed to at least pretend to care."

Yeah, he knows. That's how life works. But he can't just pretend; it's a gateway to actually feeling.

"I'll try." Mattsun offers, "It was nice to see you."

Makki rolls his left shoulder over and over again, like he's trying to work out a kink. "Was it? Was it really?"

"Kind of."

"Thanks," there's a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "We'll do this again."

And like that, with no formal goodbye, he just starts to leave. Mattsun wants to protest, but he’s grateful. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been, how hard he'd been digging his fingers into his thigh. The void in his stomach somehow feels smaller and larger all at once. He kind of wishes it would just swallow him up and this would all be done with.

It's so easy not to care.

“Oh, and Mattsun?” Makki pauses by the door and picks out a familiar black umbrella that was leaning against the doorframe. He twirls in in his fingers like a baton before pressing the button and letting it unfold. It's bad luck to open an umbrella inside. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Mattsun just looks down at the table. His food is barely touched but he doesn't plan to eat anymore. With his heart in his throat for no good reason, he feels nauseous. Despite himself, he wonders if Makki still smells like cedar aftershave and the discount brand laundry detergent.

“That fucker didn’t pay.”

[tmnt-mags]

Michelangelo x Fem!Reader

Soulmates

Mikey has always been one of my favorites and I feel like he always gets the least amount of love from the fandom. The turtles and reader are 18+ cause that's what I do.

Warnings: brief mention of abuse.

Mikey had been in love with the idea of a soulmate since he could remember. A person made by the universe that will love you the best. For a turtle mutant that lived in the sewers it was the ultimate fantasy. However, Master Splinter had told them it was very unlikely that they would have any. They weren't human after all. Still Mikey held on to hope and dreamed for the day that he might meet his one and only. He was straight as far as he could tell so he went out of his way to watch any video he could find about ladies. He would be the perfect boyfriend. He learned about periods and makeup and watched hair tutorials. He even found a wig and after cleaning it up the best he could he would practice braiding on it. Mikey had also watched videos about the female body, more than just porn, he watched women talk about sex and listened as they complained about human dudes. He couldn't exactly practice, but he would try to prepare best as he could. He would make up for being a mutant by knowing more and being better than any human man.

He was doing a cool down after a pretty intense training session with Leo.

“You did good Mikey, but you can't celebrate after every hit. You lose concentration and will get hurt.” Leo said stretching off to the side.

“Yeah bro you got a pretty good hit on me at the end.” he opened his mouth to stretch his now sore jaw. “Hey leo we’ll be 20 soon right?

“Mikey not this again.” Leo stopped and walked over to his younger brother. “We’ve talked about this, there is almost no chance of any of us having a soulmate.”

“You don’t know that Leo. Donnie doesn’t even know! I don't wanna give up hope.” It was the same argument that they had been having for years and years. His brothers had all seemed to give up on the idea, but Mikey wouldn't.

Mikey counted down the days until their birthday. After meeting April they finally found out their real birthdays from her father's notes. They all hatched on the same day, but at different times. Donnie actually turned out to be the oldest than Raph, Leo, and finally Mikey. He had been hoping that he would turn out to be the oldest but it was meant to be he guessed.

Mikey shot up and looked down at his arm excitedly, but didn't see anything. He wasn't worried though, the day was still young! He grabbed a black sharpie and wrote a simple ‘Hi angel’ on his forearm. He checked it throughout the day but still nothing. His brothers didn't even bother writing anything.

Everyday he would write a message or draw a picture hoping that his soulmate would see it. After 2 months he started to get sad. His dad was the first to take notice, and suggested that Mikey meditate. After an hour with no luck in concentrating, Mikey was about to stop when Splinter sat across from him.

“My soulmate hasn't written me back.” He said, “Maybe you guys have been right all along.”

“I would not worry yet my son. It is possible that your soulmate is younger than you, should you have one.” Splinter reached over to pat Mikey’s knee, “I have always been hopeful that you boys would have one, but I do not want you to be disappointed.”

“Don’t worry about me pops! You know me nothing gets me down!” Mikey cheered and jumped up. He ran out of the dojo throwing a thank you over his shoulder.

Splinter did know his youngest. He was happy and enjoyed having fun, but he was also sensitive. He always had been, and out of all of his sons he worried the most about Mikey and what it would do to him if he didn't have a soulmate. He sighed and decided it would be best to meditate as well. It had always been very helpful to him.

But months passed and soon a year did too and he never heard from his soulmate. Some days it was harder to write his morning message, but he still tried. He didn't want his soulmate to wake up on her 20th birthday with no message. As far as he knew his brothers never even tried to write theirs. Mikey knew they were just afraid of the possibility that they really didn't have one. He was too. He really wanted a soulmate.

It had been a busy 2 weeks. They met a girl, who also happened to be the first human they met, they totally kicked Foot Clan ass, uncovered a super villain plot and saved the city. They truly were heroes now and that was really fucking cool. They had made a new friend in a woman named April. She was pretty and nice and didn't seem to mind the fact that they were giant turtles, after the initial shock of course. He didn't even realize he hadn't written anything on his arm during all of this. He sat in bed and stared down at himself. He didn't write anything for 2 weeks and nothing had changed.There was a painful uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he looked at his arm trying to manifest words there somehow. Nothing had changed. The world didn't end because he didn't write anything. He sighed and laid down; he looked over at the black marker he kept by his bed. He started to reach out for it but instead rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

It had been 3 months now since he had written something on his arm. He tried not to think about it, sometimes he felt a tickle there but whenever he checked there was nothing. His mind was just playing with him. The brothers were on patrol tonight and Mikey was trying not to get distracted but it was one of those days he couldn't help but think about his soulmate. Leo and Raph had already got on to him about it tonight. He realized he should have tried harder when his jump to the next roof fell short and he went crashing down to the fire escape below.

“Mikey!” His brother yelled and came rushing down to see if he was alright.

“Im good dudes,” he grunted and he started to get up. “That hurt though.”

“Are you okay?” The boys jumped and turned and sitting on the steps a couple feet from them was a girl. “Ummmm, hi.”

“Hey” was all the boys could say. She nodded and looked at them, and there were a couple of moments where they all just stared at each other.

“So, i'm gonna take a wild guess here and say this isn't normal for New York?” she said and then pursed her lips.

“No it's not.” Raph grunted at her.

“Did you think that it was?” Donnie questioned. She shrugged at them.

“I'm not from here and it seems like wild things always happen in New York.” The girl defended. Mikey stared at her. She was pretty and was wearing shorts and a large t-shirt that was covered in dried paint. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she had bangs that covered her forehead. She was holding a cup in both hands and looking at them. She didn't seem frightened at all.

“Should I be freaking out?” the pretty girl asked.

“No! You don't need to be afraid of us.” Mikey suddenly forgot about any pain or soreness from his fall and stood up the rest of the way and moved in front of his brothers. “I’m Michelangelo, but everyone calls me Mikey.”

“I heard your name.” She giggled at him but then looked him in the eyes. “You are okay right? That seemed like quite the fall.” the turtle smiled widely and did a spin in the tight space.

“Right as rain baby.”

“Oh so you suddenly don't hurt?” Leo said, crossing his arms.

“The voice of an angel healed me I guess.” Mikey said and gave the girl a wink who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sure it did, lover boy.” Raph said and then smacked the back of Mikey's head who yelped out.

“Not cool bro.” he groaned. “Whats your name angelcakes?” the girl let out a gasp.

“How did you know my name?” she said with surprise. The boys blinked at her dumbly.

“Seriously?” Donnie asked.

“No, my name is (y/n).” She laughed. “What are your names?”

“Oh these are my brothers Donnie, Leo, and Raph!” He motioned at each one and she gave a small wave as he did.

“You’re really not scared?” Donnie asked her quietly.

“A little shocked but not scared.” (Y/n) said happily.

The boys sat and talked to her for a little bit but Leo reminded them that they had a job to do. So with an invitation for them to come back and hang out again they boys parted with their newest friend to continue patrol. When they got back to the lair Mikey felt like he was on cloud nine. She was pretty, nice, and had a great smile. Mikey sat and smiled thinking about (y/n) when his eyes caught sight of a little black marker. He frowned. He wanted to find his soulmate, he really did, but now he didn't want to write anything cause what if it wasn't her. He really wanted it to be her.

“I think I’m in love~” he sighed.

“Sure you are Mike.” Leo grunted. “Go to sleep, it was a long night.”

Mikey sighed and rolled onto his side. He looked at the marker and felt guilty for some reason. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Life was good the boys went over to (y/n)’s apartment about once a week and April would come down to the lair to visit them about the same amount. A couple of months after they met they introduced the girls and they got along really well. Mikey sat April down and told her that he was sorry but his heart now belonged to (y/n). She smiled at him and patted his shoulder and told him that she forgave him and even though it would be hard she would heal. His brothers laughed but he ignored it.

April was working and the boys were at (y/n)’s place. They had eaten pizza and were talking about whatever came to mind.

“Do you guys have soulmates?” (Y/n) asked rather suddenly.

“Well we actually don't know, but we think it's very unlikely that we will.” Donnie replied.

“Oh. I hope you do.” she said. Mikey felt nervous as he asked his question.

“Do you have one?” she looked over at him.

“Not yet, but I hope I do. I’ve written on my arm every day since I turned 20 6 months ago.” she said, pulling her legs up to sit criss cross on the couch.

“We missed your birthday?” Leo asked.

“It was like a month before we met.” she shrugged.

“I can't believe I missed my true-love's birthday!” Mikey exclaimed and threw his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into him.

“You're squishing me!” She pushed away from the orange clad turtle laughing. “Do you guys want soulmates?” the boys quieted, and fidgeted awkwardly.

“I mean yeah but what's the point? Looks at us! We’re freaks.” Raph called out before crossing his arms.

“But soulmates are made for you! The universe wouldn't have given us someone who is scared of us!” Mikey defended. It was a conversation that had been had many times.

“Actually I'm not sure about that.” (y/n) said. Four pairs of eyes turned towards her.

“What do you mean?” Donnie asked.

“Well my parents were soulmates and my dad used to beat my mom senseless until he was arrested and they divorced when I was 8. They were soulmates but he used to hurt her so much.” (y/n) looked down at her hands. “It took her awhile to realize that just because the universe made you soulmates didn’t mean you were meant to be.”

“What happened after that?” Leo almost whispered the question.

“Well she met my step dad who is a great guy. His soulmate isnt the romantic type so they just ended up being close friends, and then he met my mom. They fell in love and he became my step-dad. You don't need to be soulmates to love each other, sometimes soulmates are just platonic, and sometimes soulmates aren’t good for eachother.”

“I’m sorry.” Mikey said softly.

“Don't be! Everyone is happy now. I mean, I don't know about my dad. He's never tried to reach back out. I kinda don't want him to anway.” (y/n) looked back up at the turtles.

“So you must hate the idea of soulmates.” Raph suggested.

“When did I say that? I want a soulmate, I really do. I want that fairy tale happily ever after people always talk about.” She sighed and smiled. “That's why I write my soulmate everyday. I had wished that they would be older than me but I guess they are a bit younger. I just hope that when I'm 42 I don't suddenly get writing from my soulmate who just turned 20.” She laughed.

“That can happen?” she looked over at Donnie and nodded.

“You guys don't know that?” the boys, except for Mikey, nodded.

“We never thought we would have them, so beyond movies I don't think any of us really looked. Didn’t want false hope.” Leo looked at her.

“Well I did cause I’ve always wanted a soulmate!” Mikey interjected.

“Mikey used to write on his arm every single day but hasn't in months.” Raph told her.

“Hey how do you know that?” Mikey looked at him.

“You think we didn't notice? We just never brought it up cause we know how you are.” Leo mumbled. The youngest turtle pouted at this.

“Why did you stop?” (y/n) asked. Mikey sighed and leaned his head back.

“It just kinda felt pointless. I would write something every day and nothing ever happened and then I realized one day that I hadn’t written anything for 2 weeks and still nothing changed. It just kinda felt pointless lately.” Mikey told everyone. There were flashes of sadness or pity from his brothers. They always knew the day would come when Mikey realized that none of them had soulmates. They knew it would come, but they didn't want it too.

“Well thats dumb.” (y/n) said rather bluntly. “What if today is her birthday and she's waiting to see if her soulmate will write anything. There were girls in my highschool that swore that they wouldn't write first and that their soulmate had to be the one to write first.” She said, leaning into Mikey.

“Well I think thats kinda dumb.” Mikey pouted at her. She rolled her eyes and leaned forward grabbing a cup of markers.

“Here write something!” she said, giving him the cup. He grabbed a black marker and opened it.

“Fine. Anything for you angelcakes.” he blew a kiss at her and looked at his arm. He felt a weird tightness when he brought the marker to his skin. He decided to write a simple ‘Hi I’m Mikey. What's your name.’

(Y/n) shivered as he started to write and felt a tickle on her arm. She gasped and pulled up her sleeve. The brothers' eyes widened as they watched Mikey’s hand writing appear on her arm next to the old writing that she had done. Mikey did not notice.

“Mikey! Look!” The oldest turtle said pointing at (y/n). Mikey looked up at Donnie and then at (y/n)’s arm.

“Oh haha very funny. That's not really nice.” He rolled his eyes.

“What Mikey? It's not a joke!” She put her arm right next to his and told him to keep writing. He drew a squiggle and watched as it seemed to magically appear on his friend's arm.

“What? Dude! Thats awesome!” Mikey cried out. This was the best thing in the world! His angelcakes was his soulmate!

“Why haven't you written me back?” She asked slightly outraged. Mikey stopped and stared at her.

“Cause I haven’t gotten any writing.” Mikey said, remembering how she said she wrote to her soulmate everyday. The room fell quiet and Mikey felt the beginnings of a horrible pain in his heart.

“So I’m yours, but you're not…” She trailed off feeling a sudden wave of emotion and felt tears in her eyes.

“Um sorry to interrupt, but I don't think there's any reason to get upset.” Donnie started. He grabbed the marker that matched the writing she already had on her arm. “Try writing something (y/n).” She nodded quietly as a few tears fell. She opened the cap and wrote hello. Mikey felt a tickle and shivered at the phantom writing on his arm, but he looked down and there was nothing there.

“Nothing” Mikey whispered. He felt like the world was crashing down. A moment so happy followed by something so heartbreaking. Raph and Leo looked down and away. Their faces filled with sorrow for their brother, and for the hope they had just felt for themselves.

“Now hold on just a moment.” Donnie rolled his eyes. “(Y/n) why do you write in that color?”

“It's my favorite.” she sniffled.

“Do you always write in green?” He pressed.

“Yeah, like I said it's my favorite and I want my soulmate to know that. I feel like it makes it a little more personal.” (y/n) continued. Donnie leaned forward and grabbed her marker. Everyone watched as he took the marker and held it up to mikey.

“Everyone look.” They all looked and Mikey’s eyes widened.

“It's the same color as me.” he mumbled.

“(Y/n) please try again with black.” She quickly snatched up the black marker and wrote ‘I hope this is Mikey.’

“Donnie you're a genius!” Mikey tackled his brother and then quickly went back to the couch thrusting his arm at (y/n). “Do it again!”

She quickly drew a heart while staring at his arm and watched as the black lines began to appear on Mikey as she drew them. She practically threw herself at mikey wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his face.

“Woah. I think that we should probably leave.” Leo suggested as his two other brothers got up and followed him to the window.

“Thank you Donnie!” (y/n) shouted out. Donnie gave a thumbs up and went out the window and closed it behind him.

“I can’t believe we’ve known each other for 5 months without finding out!” Mikey said nuzzling her face and wiping whatever tears were still there.

“I can't believe I never thought to write in black!” She laughed and kissed his cheek.

“Wait!” He leaned back. “The turtle thing doesn't bother you? Really? Truly?”

“Of course not! I’ve had a big crush on you for like 2 months now! This is the best news ever!” his soulmate cheered. “Also I just kissed you like 10 times.”

Mikey laughed and held her close, kissing her cheek. He had a soulmate! His soulmate was a beautiful, funny, nice girl who liked him!

“I knew there was a reason I’ve always loved green.” She said with a smile and leaned in to kiss mikey’s lips. It was a nice sweet kiss and just what he always thought a first kiss should be, yet so much better. He sighed and relaxed against the couch with (y/n) in his arms.

He had a soulmate and things couldn't be better.

[shhhlikeme]

Hello! I want to start off by saying you’re really pretty and your writing is amazing 🥺👉👈 Could I request a oneshot where the s/o of either Yamaguchi or Suga (which ever you prefer they are both my babies) get into an argument and the s/o ends up flinching out of habit during it, and maybe some cute fluff at the end?

Sugawara Koshi x Reader Angst Fluff !!!!

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A/N: Hello! EYEEE want to start off by saying im blushing thank you angel💖💖💖 of course you can. Request anytime I’m all ears and keyboard taps!

This is super fluffy so I hope you like it!!!!

Yams is my favourite but I haven’t written a Suga story yet and I have a little crush on him so I’ll pick him, yay! (Also, Suga’s voice actor in the dub sounds so attractive to me ugh)

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“Hey baby!” You walked into your boyfriend’s room that his parents let you into. You flicked the lights on.

can we all collectively agree that Suga’s parents are some Queen Elsa & Jack Frost looking mfs?!

Surprised because you didn’t tell him you were stopping by, Sugawara’s eyes lit up when he saw you

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He scrambled off his bed to you, giving you a chaste kiss.

You can’t tell anyone this, but Suga’s parents secretly invited you because they have been worried about their son

From their perspective, Suga came home everyday seemingly drained and depressed

He would mutter a hello to his parents, go straight to his room and lock the door

You didn’t know this, because your boyfriend was completely normal with you and with his friends from school

He was his regular cheeky self that you loved

But you couldn’t deny his parents anything and you wanted to see your baby so you agreed to come over one night after school to kind of “catch him in this act” that his parents described

You scanned your handsome boy’s face and it made you frown

He did looked drained. That’s not normal considering school had been out for maybe an hour and you just saw him during last period looking chipper.

He had lines under his eyes and his shoulders were slumped/lower than usual. Not to mention his eyes betrayed him because they looked like someone who was really going through it, even though you could see that his spirits lifted with your entry

You didn’t say anything, opting to poke his stomach instead and smile up at him

for someone’s whose weak spot is his ticklish tummy, the joy from his laugh didn’t reach his eyes whole heartedly like they normally did

You tested one last time.

“I made you tempura, just the way you like it,” You placed the wrapped dinner plate you bagged on his dresser, gauging his reaction.

Koshi appeared like he was a stage actor when he gave you a big smile and said thanks.

Your heart immediately sank then, because you knew his parents had been telling the truth.

There was something wrong with your Koshi. Very wrong.

Ok. Here goes.

You turned around to lock his room door and took his hand

You gestured for him to crawl back into bed which he seemed genuinely happy about.

You straddled his waist, sitting in a position where he couldn’t hide his face from you nor could he escape when this questioning started

“Uh oh. You only sit on me like this when you want “to talk.”

You nodded. He knew.

Your boyfriend liked talking about his feelings but not when they could potentially bring down the mood of others.... and with this specific circumstance where he was able to hide his sadness from you so well, you had no choice but to jump straight into playing hardball.

“Shishi.” You used the embarrassing pet name you made for him and he slightly blushed.

Marry him, aight?

“Yeah? You okay? I’m listening baby tell me.” He looked at you with his shining eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Suga didn’t miss a beat. He was well rehearsed. “Wait—me? This talk is about me? Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Well why are you laying in your bed with the lights off at 4pm? You’re usually doing your school work at this time. That’s what you text me.”

Suga sighed. “I was just tired today, that’s all.”

“Shishi.....”

“Y/N, baby. trust me I’m fi-“

“Is it about volleyball?”

Koshi sat up quickly, cradling your back to make sure you were safe. He scooted backwards, making it so his back was leaning on his headboard.

“Can I please put you next to me?” He asked.

You mentally noted that he didn’t answer the question.

And that he wanted to get out of this “truth spell” position

So it was about volleyball. You ignored his question back and pushed forward.

“Did something happen? Is Daichi injured again? Or is Ukai quitting—“

Suga locked his jaw, looking away from you. “No no. It’s not that— I’m fine. I’m good.”

You couldn’t tell who he was trying to convince more: you? Or himself?

You pushed a bit further.

“Tomorrow is your Senior game, right? You, Asahi, Daichi and Kiyoko will be awarded for the years you put in, right?”

Suga, looking pained, gently moved you off his lap to sit next to him. He got out of bed and paced the room. You knew you were about to crack him but you weren’t too concerned because he needed to let whatever this was out. It’s bad enough that your baby was having such internal conflict like this. It was depressing him and he was dealing with it all by himself.

You stared at him and moved to sit up on your knees, prepared to deal the final blow.

“Are you sad about not playing, Shishi?”

The volcano that Sugawara had been trying so hard to keep in finally erupted at your words.

“SAD?! Am I sad?!” He practically roared at you loudly.

You flinched because it was the first time you have ever heard your boyfriend raise his voice in anger, let alone at you. You remember that he told you he’d only shown his team that side of him once during a game and they were shook, rightfully so. He was kind of scary like this.

“YES I’m sad! But mostly, I’M PISSED! EVERYONE expects me to walk on stage tomorrow and accept an award I had no part in contributing to?! I have been on this team for 3 years, 2 of those years as a starting setter and those two years accounted for bullshit seasons for Karasuno. The one year I sat my ass on the bench is the year we WIN! The year the crows got their wings back I AM SITTING OUT! No one wants to admit it but what the fuck does that tell you, me, and everyone, huh?! It tells us that I was the problem. I was the broken part: the gear that caused the machine to malfunction. The gear that Kageyama came in and fixed—2 years my junior. I’m pathetic, you know?! How many captains sitbon the fucking bench while I watch my best friends play the sport we all love equally? Then I have to walk around all day pretending I don’t feel this way because I am too busy stopping Kageyama and Hinata from pummelling eachother, telling Tsukishima to stop being so mean, mitigating Yamaguchi and Ashai’s panic attacks, Forbidding Tanaka and Noya’s anger issues and the reward I get for all it isn’t the luxury of playing like Daichi who does similar work. I get no reward. I pretend to be happy the Sugawara that I used to be. I’m not happy. The only time I take off that mask off is when I get home and by that time I’m so exhausted from keeping up the facade that staying in the dark until I have to go to school again and put the mask back on is the only way I can cope. So YES I’m fucking sad, Y/N. Sad is an understatement.”

you stayed silent as you listened to every emotionally charged word, letting him catch his breath

Your heart had been shattered around the 4 second mark of his speech, hearing the mental turmoil your baby had been going through in his voice

He was going through all of that pain...

And in spite of it he would still call you every night and listen to you talk about how annoyed you are at your little sister for stealing your shirt

He didn’t change for you because he didn’t want to stress you out and that made you feel like a failure as a girlfriend

After a few minutes of Sugawara calming down, you opened your arms for him invitingly

“Come here.”

Suga looked at you, obviously fighting back tears. Not being able to bare going through it alone anymore, he mounted the bed again, hugging you then maneuvering your bodies so that he was spooning you.

“I saw you flinch. I’m so sorry for scaring you.” He whispered as he kissed the back of your hair. “I love you. So so much, Y/N.”

You reached back to run a hand soothingly against the side of his face. You felt wet tears there and you repeated the soothing gesture. “I love you more, Shishi.....” You backed up so you were pressed closer to his warm body, reinforcing the fact that you weren’t going anywhere. “And Shishi when you’re ready... I can’t wait to tell you all the reasons why you’re the team’s and my....MVP, alright?”

Sugawara nodded into your hair before tightening his grasp on you.

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A/N: This is probably the post I’ve written that is the most realistic in terms of cannon character sentiment. As an ex competitive volleyball player I believe this is truly how Suga feels :( at least youre there to cheer him up!!