#had put on longer socks even if it doesn’t help too much with my bug bites

[miss-floral-thief]

I did bring a small mirror to reapply some makeup but prillu should’ve brought my washcloth

[yuulina-vre]

Little heart, much Love

Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter: Two - Running

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Daughter! Reader, Uncle Steve, Uncle Sam

Summary: Bucky goes Running with his freinds and best girl.

Wordcount: 1535 words

“Hey, hello. Wakey, wakey, baby girl.” Bucky steps up to the crib, his hand softly rubbing on Y/N’s little tummy to slowly rouse the small child. He grins at the small grumbles that she makes and the cute little wriggles. “Sweetheart, time to wake up.” He strokes a small circle into her cheek until Y/N opens her eyes lazily. “Hey, there you are.” He watches his little girl rubbing her eyes and lazily grabbing her stuffed toy to her chest. Y/N still feels pretty sleepy. For a moment she stares at Bucky, a little grumpy that he woke her up but then she grins and stretches her arms out for him to pick her up. She really loves daddy. “Did you sleep well, baby girl?” Daddy picks her up, snuggling her into his arms and kissing her head. She nods and grins but soon squeals and screams. Mean daddy is blowing raspberries on her cheeks. In a quick motion, she pushes her friend in daddy’s face. “Oh, Mr. Bunny wants some too? Okay.” Silly daddy now blows raspberries in her bunny’s fur. “No. no daddy.”

“No more?” She shakes her head with a grin, pulling her bunny back against her chest as she yawns, head flopping back on his shoulder. Then suddenly she looks around. Where’s her pacifier? She always has it when daddy wakes her up. “What? What’s wrong?” She whines and wriggles a little, then heavier as Bucky doesn’t catch on immediately. “Hey, hey!” He tightens his grip, looking at his girl to try and find out what exactly is wrong. All the while Y/N whines and struggles until she sees it. Her favorite paci is lying in her crib. She stretches her hand out trying to reach it. Daddy follows her hand and sees her pink pacifier lying between the blankets. “Ah, of course. We can’t forget it, can we now.” He chuckles and bows down to pick it up. Y/N squeals delighted at the change of perspective, clinging tightly to Bucky. The moment he straightens up she’s still giggling and accepting the pacifier, greedily sucking on it. “So, can we get dressed now, sweetheart?” She shakes her head no. She doesn’t want to get dressed. She wants to cuddle with daddy and her bunny and have lots of berries and kisses. “No? But Uncle Steve and Sam are waiting for us.” Daddy smiles a little, stroking his hand through her soft curls. “Okay, we make a deal. We cuddle a few minutes longer but then we get dressed, yeah?” This sounds fair. So she nods. Daddy carries her to the chair by the window. He always reads her stories there or rocks with her when her tummy hurts. So, daddy sits down with her, holding her snugly to his chest, with her favorite blanket draped over her. Y/N loves these moments. Daddy always strokes her back the right way and they look out the window. Sometimes they see funny birds outside. She sighs a little, continuing sucking on her pacifier and fisting daddy’s shirt. “Hey, little cuddle bug.” Daddy speaks up, his voice so soft and his eyes are gentle on her. She looks at him, curious what he wants. “You know daddy loves you very much, right?” He presses a kiss to her forehead, making her smile. Y/N lifts her hand from his shirt and touches his cheek but daddy’s hairs are tickling her and she starts giggling while daddy smiles and meanly rubs ich cheek in her hand even more. “Noo, ahh.” She screeches a little more and soon her bunny finds its way back in Daddy’s face. “Oh I see how it is. Mr. Bunny is your knight and protects his princess, huh? Well, then I have to tickle Mr. Bunny, too. Oh! Oh no. Y/N, princess. Help your daddy! Oh no, Mr. knight is winning over me.” Silly as daddy is he lets the bunny tackle him on his face, sinking down with Y/N on the chair, playing that the bunny is fighting him. “Princess, please. Rescue your poor daddy.” He looks pleading at her but Y/N is too occupied with laughing and clapping until suddenly daddy stands up and swings her around, bunny lying on the chair. “Haha, Mr. knight! You got in my trap! Now I have the princess and will tickle her and give her all the kisses.” Bucky laughs and starts tickling Y/N. She screams and wriggles while he carries her off to his bathroom with mean laughing. “Okay, pretty girl. How about we get you out of this yucky diaper and clean you all up, hm?” Daddy sets her on the changing table and Y/N nods, wriggling a little. The diaper is a little tickling and itchy and she might have peed while laughing. Bucky makes all sorts of fun things while changing his girl, from explaining anything to funny faces and tickling feet. It doesn’t take long until he has her ready and back in her room where he dresses her in a yellow jogger and a light blue Henley. Of course, with a white undershirt underneath it to keep warm. Some socks follow as well. Bucky had prepared some light breakfast which basically is some little toast squares which cheese and butter. As soon as Y/N has finished she finds herself dressed in a warm jacket, a scarf, and a beanie aunt Nat had gifted her. She likes it because it looks funny. Daddy quickly puts on some warm shoes and takes her favorite blanket with him after making sure she has her bunny. He’s already in his running gear and he knows that Sam and Steve are already waiting outside with the new Jogging stroller. “Are we going jogging now, baby girl?” Y/N just stares at him with wide eyes, pacifier bobbing rhythmically. “Then come on.” He holds out his hand and Y/N struggles a little to stand up but grabs his fingers tightly, letting him lead to the entrance. She wobbles here and there but manages without falling so far. They need a little longer than usual since Y/N can’t walk that fast with her little legs. Daddy isn’t carrying her this time but that’s okay. Y/N knows that daddy loves how she gets faster day by day. He always tells her and sometimes even complains that she’s already faster than him. Which is silly because daddy is really fast! “Hey, Buck!” Steve waves to his friend with a big smile on his face, sending a gentle smile and a tiny wave to Y/N. “Hey, Stevie, Sam.” Bucky waves and stops in his tracks, carefully letting go of Y/N’s hand. She looks uncertain to him and quickly fists his pants to keep steady and close. “Hello princess.” Sam crouches down to look Y/N in her eyes. She giggles but hides her face shyly in Bucky’s leg, glancing back up at the dark-skinned man. Uncle Sam chuckles and stands back up. “I see, Y/N and her little friend are coming with us and probably leave us all behind, huh?”

“You would be surprised. She can be quite fast if she wants to be. Especially if she gets some strawberries. Right, baby girl?” Y/N glances up at him with a soft smile and hopeful eyes. “Berry?”

“Later sweetheart.” Bucky smiles and runs his hand gently over her beanie. “Well, let's get started.” He picks her up quickly, swings her until she laughs, and secures her in the stroller. She continues giggling and Bucky swears he’s never getting tired of that sound. His heart fills with warmth each time. He would do anything for her to make her laugh like that. He drapes the blanket over her to keep her warm against the chilly morning air and kisses her nose before then they’re on their way. He chats a little on the way, only leisurely strolling through the streets until they reach their usual running spot. He can see that Y/N is already dozing off again, so he quickly starts jogging slowly which wakes her up. Steve teases Sam for a while running as fast as he can, calling ‘on your left’ each time he passes him as he did a few years ago. Y/Y/N finds it funny. Uncle Sam always groans then and uncle Steve shows his tongue. She giggles and squeals each time, even clapping once or twice. “You want to go fast, baby?” Bucky calls and Y/N looks up at him, nodding excitedly. Whatever fast means she wants it. And just then she is going fast. Daddy really starts running just a little faster and Y/N loves it. She screams delighted, laughing each time Bucky pushes the carriage forward a little faster so he can let go for a few meters before he needs to push it again. And Bucky loves hearing her so happy. He can see Steve and Sam smiling from the corner of his eyes. Though, after a while, he actually passes the stroller to Sam so he can go at his usual pace. Y/N is not all that happy but she squeals each time he passes her. He slows down to press kisses against her cheek or makes funny faces before sprinting off again.

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part VI. (Harry Styles)

part 6 omg!!! ahh, these christmas chapters are my favs, i hope yall will like them asmuch as i do! as always, feedback is much appreciated!

word count: 4.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“So how did you two exactly meet?” your dad asks over the dinner table. You are all sitting around the long pine table, the tremendous amount of food lining in the middle as the plates are going around, getting filled.

“Oh, um, we were set up, actually. It was all Rosa,” you admit with a soft chuckle, sharing a look with Marcus beside you. 

“I just thought they would be a good match, guess I was right,” Rosa grins, clearly satisfied with the work she’s done.

“What do you do for a living, Marcus?” Jeremy chimes in while helping Margaret cut her meat beside him. She is the youngest of the cousins, only five, but she can boss around anyone as if she was Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. 

“Oh, I work in sales. We had a project with Steven’s company, that’s where we met.”

“That sounds interesting,” Joe nods, but at the same time you hear Harry huff on the other end of the table. Looking in his way you see him with his eyes fixed on the plate. He hasn’t said a word since Marcus arrived and his silence is quite worrying if you’re being honest. You haven’t seen him be silent for this long ever, you’re afraid he might be plotting something. 

“It’s so weird that all four of us are here with a significant other this year. I remember when we were all just kids, running around in our backyard,” Etta sighs with a nostalgic smile.

Your eyes wander over to Harry, who is still relentlessly staring down at his plate, as if he wasn’t even there. 

“Yeah, now there are just two single people sitting at the table. Aunt Monica and Harry,” you say and his head finally snaps up, eyes meeting yours, but you can’t read them. 

“You’re single?” Lily asks Harry, leaning forward a little so she can see him since they are sitting on the same side of the table. 

“I, uhh--I am, yeah,” he nods, clearly uncomfortable he is being discussed all of a sudden.

“Would have sworn you have someone waiting for you at home.”

“No, it’s just me,” he shakes his head. “Maybe I could pair up with Aunt Monica so there wouldn’t be any single people,” he jokes, making everyone laugh at the table. Aunt Monica looks up from her plate and winks at Harry.

“I’ll leave my door open for the night,” she cheekily comments and Harry almost chokes on his wine as another round of laugh runs over the table.

“Monica, he is not a lonely soldier,” your mom tells her, but she just shrugs her shoulders grabbing her glass and downing the rest of her wine. Joe is quick to refill it for her, knowing well she was about to ask someone to do that for her. 

“Thanks for the offer though,” Harry nods shyly and you think it’s hilarious how his cheeks have turned red from a nasty comment your aunt made. 

His eyes find you again right when Marcus reaches over and squeezes your thigh gently under the table and you catch Harry’s grimace before you turn to your boyfriend and share a short peck on the lips. 

For your biggest surprise Harry doesn’t try to drop any nasty comments about you during dinner, not even after, when all adults gather in the living room while the kids leave to play video games in their room. Rosa is sitting on Harry’s thigh as he is supporting her back, letting her curiously look around in the room. You’re sitting on a loveseat with Marcus, curled up to his side and he has an arm around your shoulders. Occasionally you catch Harry’s eyes on the two of you, but you try to pay little attention to him and just enjoy the evening.

“I should get going soon,” Marcus tells you, checking the time. It’s past ten and he has to leave early in the morning.

“Why don’t you stay for the night?” Teresa asks when she sees the two of you getting up from the sofa.

“Oh, I didn’t want to bother too long, it’s my first time meeting you all, thought a dinner would be just enough,” Marcus chuckles and you bite into your bottom lip. Does he believe this or did he want to stay, but only tells this everyone because you didn’t invite him to stay the night? You’re not sure if you want to know the real answer...

“Silly, you don’t bother,” you mom huffs. “Isn’t it too late to drive home?”

“I’m fine, but thank you. I didn’t bring my stuff so I would have to leave extra early in the morning to make it in time. But thank you for having me, it was wonderful meeting you all.”

Marcus goes around and says his goodbye to everyone before the two of you head to the front door. 

“Drive safe, text me when you get home, alright?” you tell him as he throws his coat to the passenger seat before turning to face you. 

“Yeah. Have fun with your family and I’ll see you in a few days.” A genuine smile stretches across his face and it immediately triggers your guilt. He could have stayed the night avoiding to drive back to the city so late, but even now, standing out on the driveway you don’t feel like you want him to stay for longer. 

What you keep telling yourself is that it’s all because you haven’t been together that long and it would have been a too big of a step just yet. Seemingly Marcus is fine with your choice, but something is telling you that it bugs him deep inside. 

Leaning down he kisses you softly, a hand sliding to your waist and pulling you closer before you part your ways. Standing on the side you wave at him as he backs out of the driveway and disappears in the darkness of the woods. 

You stay out there for a little longer, the spicy coldness of the night feels numbing in a soothing way. Chewing on your bottom lip you contemplate if you’ve made the right choice by not inviting him to stay. You don’t find an answer for that before you head back inside.

Not much has changed since you left, but you notice that Valerie is back in Rosa’s hands and Harry is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Harry?” you ask sitting on the ground next to your sister, eyes on Valerie as she is adorably babbling at you.

“He said he’s tired, went to bed.”

You look in his room’s way. That sounded like absolute bullshit, but you don’t have a right to question it. Maybe he truly was tired, he probably had to wake up quite early to pick you up and be here in time.

Nodding you reach for Valerie and take the little girl into your arms, making yourself busy with her.

***

Tossing once again in the bed you growl in annoyance. You haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep since you’ve come to bed hours ago. Turning to your side you tap on the screen of your phone and it shows you that it’s already past two in the morning. No position feels comfortable anymore and you’ve flipped your pillow way too many times, there are no cold side anymore. 

On cue, your stomach growls and you let out a sigh staring up at the ceiling. Maybe if you had a late night snack your body would finally relax and let you rest. Kicking the covers off you put on a pair of fuzzy socks and throw a hoodie on before heading out to the kitchen to find something you could feast on. 

You stop in your way surprised when you see that the lights are on in the kitchen and someone is clearly out there, probably with the same intention as you. Walking down the hallway you hear a plate getting placed on the kitchen island and soon enough the person starts eating, the fork meeting the plate.

Harry is sitting at the kitchen island in a plain white t-shirt and checkered pajama pants, a plate of mashed potatoes and meatloaf sitting in front of him. His head snaps up immediately when he hears that someone has joined him and you stop at the door.

“Hey,” you smile softly. “I see I’m not the only one having trouble with sleeping,” you chuckle shuffling your way to the fridge. 

“I don’t sleep too well at new places,” he admits, eyes following your frame as you pass by him before he turns his attention back to his plate. 

Grabbing the milk you are about to close the fridge when your eyes lay on the absurd amount of eggnog. Hesitantly you grab a bottle and take it out as well, thinking that a few sips might help you fall asleep easier. Then you grab the cookies the kids decorated this afternoon and sit on a stool next to Harry.

“Woah, in need of having some fun?” he chuckles seeing the eggnog and you just shrug your shoulders, pouring milk into a regular glass, then some eggnog into a smaller one in hopes you won’t go overboard with it. 

“I’m just… having a hard time falling asleep.”

“Empty bed?”

“What?” you ask taking a bite from a cookie.

“I mean, Marcus left. You must be used to sleeping next to him,” Harry explains and you look back at him with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Well, I do sleep better with someone next to me, but it’s not like I’ve done that a lot with Marcus,” you admit, turning your attention back to the cookies.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, not really in the mood to get into it, because it’s a whole spiral that would bring you down into depths you definitely don’t want to talk about right now. 

“You haven’t slept with Marcus?” he asks, and you notice how it could mean two versions. Either he is only talking about just sleeping or he is nosily trying to find out if you’ve had sex with him.

“That is… none of your business,” you tell him with a soft chuckle. Harry holds his hands up innocently before returning to his plate. 

A few minutes pass by in silence, just your munching and Harry’s chewing breaking it. As you pour a little more eggnog to yourself Harry stands up from the stool upon finishing his food, and after putting his plate to the sink he gets a glass for himself and sits back, holding the glass in your way.

“Want to have some fun too?” you ask, but pour him some eggnog anyway.

“Might help me fall asleep too.”

“Sometimes I feel like mom is right saying that I have a drinking problem,” you snort finishing up your cookie.

“Don’t think that’s true,” Harry tells you with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Well, you have seen me drunk quite a few times, but it’s nice that you think it’s alright.”

“What’s wrong with having a few drinks occasionally? It’s not like you blackout every other day.”

“My mom would want me to never blackout in general, but I don’t seem to know my boundaries with alcohol,” you tell him with a sigh.

“Happens to everyone, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Thanks, but I’m sitting here at two in the morning, drinking eggnog for no specific reason, because it surely won’t help me sleep, so... Maybe there is some truth to it.”

Harry thinks to himself a little before pouring some more to himself and some into your glass as well.

“I literally just said that I should stop,” you say, giving him a puzzled look.

“It’s fine if you have a reason,” he answers with a cheeky smile. “We’re gonna play never have I ever.”

“Oh hell no!” you chuckle looking at him with wide eyes.

“What? Are you afraid I might find out something nasty about you?” he challenges you, clearly trying to push you to play. “I don’t think you can surprise me with anything.”

“Excuse me? That’s pretty hurtful you think I don’t have surprising secrets,” you say putting a hand to your chest. “I think I’m the one who can’t find out anything surprising about you.”

“Hah, we’ll see, Y/N. All you gotta do is play,” he smirks and you already know you’re fucked. Sighing you take your glass and look at him with a murderous look, but the corners of your mouth are curling up. “You can start, just so you see how generous I am.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” you mock him. “Okay. Never have I ever… gotten into a physical fight,” you say and watch Harry raise his glass to his mouth, but at the same time you do the same, already sure he is gonna be shocked.

Just as you expected, he freezes seeing you take a sip from your eggnog.

“Alright, rule is that we gotta explain them, because there’s no way you’re leaving without telling me about who you got into a fight with,” he tells you pointing a finger at you, but then adds: “Fighting with your sister does not count, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t Rosa,” you chuckle. “I had a huge fight with my best friend in third grade and we somehow ended up kicking and punching each other in the middle of the gym in class. We were both sent to the principal’s office.”

“Who would have thought you were a feisty little kid!” Harry chuckles and you just shrug with a proud smile.

“See? I told you I can surprise you. Your turn.”

“Okay. Never have I ever had a threesome,” he easily says and brings his glass up to his mouth as you stay put this time.

“If you think I’m surprised, I’m not. It’s literally written on your forehead that you’re the kind who enjoys that kind of stuff,” you scoff.

“Oh, please. Don’t pretend like you haven’t even thought about having one.”

“I’m not admitting anything outside the game. You have to ask that next if you are that interested,” you smirk, but you’re certain your eyes give you away, because Harry is chuckling and shaking his head. “Never have I ever cheated on someone,” you say and watch Harry’s glass stay on the counter.

“I’m not that bad of a person.”

“Never said you are, I was just curious,” you shrug and nod at him letting him know it’s his turn again.

“Never have I ever had a crush on a teacher of mine.”

You both drink.

“My finance professor, junior year in college,” you inform him.

“English teacher, senior year in high school,” Harry replies and you are already picturing him sitting in the first row just to be close to her during class.

“Did you write poems to her too?”

“You said no questions outside the game!” he retorts laughing and you roll your eyes at him.

“Alright, I have thought about having a threesome before, now your turn, spill the tea!”

“I wrote a song about her,” he admits and you raise your eyebrows at him. “Even planned on showing it to her, but my friends talked me down, luckily.”

“It’s kinda sweet and romantic.”

“Yeah, and very inappropriate,” he adds chuckling. “Alright, enough of Miss Hastings, your turn.”

“Never have I ever stolen something.” You both raise your glass and you smile at him swallowing the alcohol. “Virginities do not count,” you tease him, earning a laugh.

“Still would have drank. I was a little kleptomaniac when I was a kid. Liked to steal small things in the store just to see if I would get caught.”

“And were you ever?”

“One time, yeah. My mom was so mad at me, I got grounded for a week, never stole anything again,” he admits chuckling. “What about you?”

“It wasn’t regular, but I definitely have stolen candies when I didn’t have enough money to pay.”

“What a rebel,” he teases you and you just smack his upper arm jokingly. “Never have I ever snuck out.” Only Harry drinks and you roll your eyes at him.

“Again, not surprising.”

“I just wanted to know if you have ever snuck out, chill,” he smirks. “Guess you were a saint.”

“Never have I ever said the wrong person’s name while having sex.” A devilish smile sits on your lips as you watch him drink while you do the same. You see his eyebrows rise over the glass.

“Nasty,” he huffs. “When did that happen?”

“First year of college. I was casually seeing a guy, but I wasn’t really over my last ex from high school and accidentally called him Ethan.”

“And what was his real name?”

“I don’t even remember,” you admit with a laugh, clearly feeling the alcohol slowly kicking in. Harry’s mouth hangs open before his expressions turn into that iconic ‘not bad’ face.

“Never have I ever had a wet dream about a friend of mine,” Harry asks and you feel your cheeks heating up right away, eyes snapping down at your glass. Unwillingly, but you drink as Harry does the same. “Who was it?”

“I’m not answering this one,” you shake your head. 

“Come on! I promise it’ll stay between us. Was it Steven?” he grins at you, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “I bet it was Steven.”

“Shut up, it wasn’t!” you snap at him rolling your eyes.

“Okay, then who? I won’t sleep tonight if you don’t tell me!” he begs, but you shake your head stubbornly. “Do I know him?” Oh, all too well, you think to yourself. “Is it someone who was there at the bar last time?”

“Can we move past it?” you sigh painfully.

“No, no way. I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me!”

“It was you.”

The words slip out fast and a little quiet, but he hears them clear. His lips part, a truly stunned look pulls on his face and you just wish you didn’t say a word.

“Happy? Now you know,” you snap running a hand through your hair.

“Was I any good in your dream?” he then cheekily asks and you gasp at the nosy, nasty question.

“Now that I won’t answer.”

“I have to know if I did good!” he protests and you laugh.

“It wasn’t even you, well, not your real version, why does it matter?”

“I’m a maximalist, I have to know if my dream self did good,” he pushes further and you can’t believe this is really what you’re talking about.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it was good!” you admit throwing your hands into the air, giving up to keep anything to yourself. He is just too damn annoying and stubborn to ever have anything other than his way.

“If that makes you feel better, I’ve had a few about you as well,” he admits with a straight face and the heat is back in your cheeks immediately.

“A few?”

“I didn’t count, but yeah. And you were awesome, if you’re interested.”

“Thanks, but I was not,” you say with a meaningful look, but he just smirks at you. “You’re such a pig, Styles.”

“Says the girl who was probably moaning my name in her dreams.”

“If you keep talking about this, you’ll be the second person I get into a physical fight with,” you warn him and he chuckles, but takes the hint and finally moves on. 

You easily forget about time as you keep playing for quite long. Question after question, some shocking and surprising things come up, but there are some absolutely ridiculous facts too. You’re definitely over the line of being tipsy, but you’re not at the drunk state yet. 

Harry clearly enjoys asking questions that make you nervous, but you don’t shy away from risky questions either. By the time the bottle empties out you are both laughing on something he said, your eyes are teary and you gasp for air, holding onto the edge of the kitchen island.

“Oh fuck!” you breathe out when your gaze wanders over to the windows and you see that it’s starting to brighten out there. “The Sun is coming up, what time is it?” you slur, having a hard time to get off the stool and keep your balance at the same time. Harry fishes his phone out of his pocket and his eyes widen.

“It’s six in the morning!” he whisper-yells and you almost faint.

“Shit, mom is usually up around six thirty, she can’t find us here like this! Quickly, we have to clean up!”

Harry takes care of the empty eggnog bottle while you wash the dishes and then the two of you head back to your rooms, but you just really don’t want to go to bed alone. Alcohol tends to make you clingy and you need the presence of someone next to you.

“Harry,” you whisper as the two of you stop in the hallway.

“Hm?” he hums, looking back at you with glassy eyes.

“Can I… sleep at yours?” you shyly ask.

Part of you expects a smart comeback, something dirty, but he looks down at you for a long moment as if he is debating what he should say and you start to think he is about to reject you, but then he takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of his room.

“It’s strictly friendly, okay?” you tell him once the two of you are in his room and the door is closed behind you.

“Like the dream you had about me?” he cockily asks grinning at you and you’re quick to smack his hard chest, making him chuckle.

“Shut up! I just really don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Chill, it’s all good,” he chuckles and stepping to the nightstand he plugs his phone in to charge as you crawl up to the huge, comfortable bed.

Tugging a pillow under your head you turn your back against him, only hearing as he lies down next to you, tugging some of the cover off you since there’s only a big one. He shuffles a bit more until you both stop moving, but you still have your eyes open. 

Knowing that he is right there behind you irks your mind and the urge to cuddle to his side is stronger than you will to stay still. You want to feel his body heat, his touch, hear his heartbeat under your face as you curl up to his side. You are dying to listen to his steady breathing from up close and your self-control is slowly but surely dissolves. 

Before your rational side could talk you down, you find yourself turning around and snuggling to his side, a soft chuckle emitting from his lips.

“It’s totally friendly, wipe the satisfied grin off your stupid face,” you mumble as you lay your head to his shoulder, bringing a hand up to his chest. One of his arms curl around your shoulders as he stays silent, letting you snuggle up to him all you want. 

It’s even better than you remembered. Last time the two of you were like this, the morning ruined everything and it had a whole different antecedent than now. You can only hope history doesn’t repeat itself and you don’t have to go through the same embarrassment like last time.

“Y/N?” he whispers and your eyes open at his voice.

“Yeah?” There’s a short pause before he speaks up again.

“Do you really… think that… there was not much Etta was missing?”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling at how self-conscious he just sounded, still thinking about the joke you made in the car on your way here. For a split second you think about lying again, but it’s clearly been bothering him, so much he felt the need to ask after several rounds of eggnog.

“No. I was just joking,” you admit and he lets out a relieved sigh. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think I have a fat ass?” you ask referring back to the time the two of you encountered at the hospital when Valerie was born. You feel him huff as his hand on your shoulder squeezes you gently.

“You have a great ass, Y/N. The best I’ve ever seen.”

“Are you just exaggerating?” you ask, lifting your head up and narrowing your eyes at him in the dark.

“No,” he smiles. “Swear to my sister’s life it’s the truth.”

Knowing well he wouldn’t bring his sister into it if he wasn’t telling the truth, you put back down your head, finally closing your eyes.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling yourself drifting to sleep.

“Good night, Pretty Eyes.”

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[janetbrown711]

“   it’s  okay ,   i’m  here .   i’ll  always  be  here .   ” Wakko yakko dot

Wakko wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. 

He was barely holding on as it was, always trying to keep on a happy face for his sibs, make them believe everything was okay. Dot was a lot easier to trick than Yakko, but even he could be swayed with very little effort. After all, it was very clear that their parents were never going to come back...

It had been almost a year. Wakko still missed them every day. He missed their protection... Yakko was trying, that was true, but even he could get distracted. Sometimes he’d be studying off in the library when Wakko needed food, so he’d have to figure it out on his own because God knows he couldn’t ask his grandmother for anything. Wakko figured it out for the most part, but it was easy to say he missed quite a few meals over the years because of fear of disturbing Her. 

Wakko knew she placed his room by hers for the specific purpose of making his life a living hell without his sibs. After all, she hated him. The only reason she’d want to be near is if she wanted to keep an eye out, or if she wanted to hurt him somehow. Well- she succeeded on that end anyway, though perhaps the better word was torture. 

Sure, sometimes Wakko could manage to sneak past if he crawled on his hands and knees and put socks on his feet and hands, but he was filled with anxiety that simply wouldn’t leave him the whole time. He was terrified of getting his sibs in danger- a trait he knew he shared with both of them. 

They were all putting on a happy face, he supposed. 

He couldn’t say it was all bad... he was getting better at reading. Dot read easy stuff which helped him boost his confidence, while Yakko read more difficult stuff to make sure he was actually learning, which- while Wakko kinda hated it- he couldn’t deny worked. He was getting better- he was actually learning things, which felt nice. 

Though they had had a few close calls here and there...

Wakko wasn’t sure what would happen if they got caught, but he was pretty sure they’d get into serious trouble. For whatever reason, Angelina really hated the fact Wakko was stupid but hated him trying to better himself even more. It was like she wanted a bug under her shoe to squish just for fun... the thought made Wakko shudder. 

So... the year had its good moments, but... a year had really taken it’s tole. The only major good part was that Angelina stopped wearing that stupid veil and pretended to be grieving. Now you knew what she was thinking and saying, which... well... good and bad. 

Good and bad. 

“What’s this word, Wakko?” Yakko asked, pointing to a particularly long one on the page in front of Wakko. He frowned at it. 

“I dunno,” he shrugged. 

“You’re a smart kid, sound it out,” Yakko said. Wakko winced a little and looked at the page. 

In truth, he sometimes debated with himself whether it was better to be stupid or to be smart. He wanted to know things, but at the same time knowledge seemed like a burden more than anything. At least- that’s what he got from observing Yakko. Yakko always had something on his mind, something big, while Wakko hardly ever thought about things other than food or some imaginary story he likes playing on repeat to keep himself busy while his sibs were gone. 

“in... for...ma...ti..own?” He looked at his elder brother. 

“Close. Information. Tion sounds like shun,” Yakko pointed out. 

“Right, that’s information,” he nodded. He knew the words, he was nine after all, but reading just make them look unfamiliar. 

Yakko was then going to make him read the full sentence again, but a familiar shout was heard right outside, and the boys froze as the door swung open. 

“Yakko- calm this child down,” Angelina shoved Dot, who was crying, towards Yakko, when her eyes feel upon them. 

“What on earth is going on here?” She glared at Wakko, and he felt his heart beat faster. 

“W-well I-i was just-” Yakko tried to think of what to say as Dot went to him, but Angelina yanked Dot back, before going to Yakko herself and slapping him across the face and he slammed into a bookshelf, books spilling out onto him.

“What did I tell you?! You are not to educate that bastard creature, lest you and him face serious consequences,” She fumed. 

“No!!! Don’t hurt him!!!” Dot continued to cry. Wakko growled and just about lept out of the chair, but Angelina grabbed him by the ears. 

“This is on you,” She spat, and began to drag Wakko out of the room. 

“No! It’s my fault! I forgot the dress type! Please! Punish me instead!” Dot insisted, stepping out in front of Angelina. 

“Oh Angelina,” The queen shook her head, placing a soft hand against Dot’s face. Dot froze.

“If you get in my way again I assure you his punishment will be increased ten fold.” She whispered harshly. 

“Now be a good girl Angelina, and run along now. You have much to study,” She smiled sweetly. 

“My name is Dot,” She muttered to herself, bearing her teeth.

“Dot, no,” Wakko pleaded with her. Angelina tightened her pull on his ears. 

“It’d be wise for you to listen to him for once,” She smiled more. Dot growled again, but stepped backward, and looked back at Wakko. 

“Angelina. Move,” She ordered. Dot looked at the arm holding Wakko, a very obvious thought popping into her head. Angelina growled. 

“I expected more from you,” She said, before kicking Dot to the ground and moving on, giving Wakko’s ears a massive tug before continuing on. 

Wakko heard Dot get up from behind, trying to keep her distance, but her tears made her noticeable. 

Quickly and painfully, they turned around halls and owners of the castle, before Wakko realized she wasn’t going to be putting him in his room, and he was filled his dread and terror. 

“Wh-where are you taking him?!” Dot shouted at her, once she had the same thought. 

“That is none of your concern, Yakko.” She said coldly. “I’m teaching you three a lesson.”

“Let go of him!” Dot shouted again as Angelina started to go up the enormous stairwell. The queen ignored her, climbing higher and higher. 

“I said let him go!” Dot shouted, pulling on her dress like she had a year ago. Angelina froze, before turning around, dangling Wakko off of the stairs above the at least 20 foot drop below, only holding him by his neck.

“Shout at me again young lady, and I will,” She threatened. Dot gasped, covering her mouth. 

“Wait- please! Don’t hurt him-!” She begged, and Wakko did his best not to be terrified for his life but uh- 20 ft drop. 

“Go back downstairs, Angelina. You’ve done enough today,” She spat in her face. Dot wanted to protest, but the queen lifted Wakko higher and Dot backed down, lowering her head in shame as more tears streamed down. 

“Good girl,” The queen smiled, and patted her head, before turning around and continuing to drag Wakko up, Dot’s sobs echoing as they went all the way to the top. At this point, Wakko was pounding and kicking against her best he could, but she proved herself to have gotten wiser about that, as her long silk gloves prevented scratches or bites to her skin, and her pure gold bracelets also didn’t help. 

Eventually, she reached the top of the familiar tower, and she tossed him in like an animal. She closed and locked the heavy iron door and the sound made Wakko’s head hurt. 

“How long do you plan to leave me here, huh?!” He demanded, running to the door. However, to his horror, she left without a word to him. He listened closely to the door, still hearing Dot’s cries when he heard her yelp in pain. Wakko pounded on the door, but since it was no longer wood, all that ended up doing was hurting his hand. Wakko cringed in the pain, but knew there was nothing he could do. 

He was locked in here... for who knows how long. Could be days, weeks... months...

If she even bothered to keep him alive, which was something she was clearly starting to debate more and more as time passed. Wakko didn’t want to die-

At least... not yet. 

Perhaps it was foolish, but he did still have a shred of hope for his future, though it only got cloudier and cloudier as days passed. He tried to remember the advice and optimism of his dad, but that only brought up the painful feeling of him being gone. The same thing happened when he tried to imagine his mom comforting him too. 

After awhile of him just sitting on the cold and filthy floor in shock and pain, he heard pounding on the door. 

“Wakko? Wakko? Are you in there?” Yakko called from outside. 

“Y-yeah!” he replied, wiping his eyes. 

“We-we’re gonna get you out Wakko. I promise,” he declared. 

“Yakko, you can’t promise that,” Wakko frowned. 

“Yes I can Wakko. We’re going to get you out,” He asserted. 

“She’ll kill you- she’ll kill me if you try,” Wakko pleaded. 

“I know... but... w-we’ll escape. Run away to a far off town where no one will find you two. We’ll be safe,” Yakko said, becoming more and more desperate.

“You’ve said it yourself: a place like that doesn’t exist,” Wakko crossed his arms, leaning against the cold door.  He heard Yakko do the same. 

“We... we could...” Yakko tried to think. 

“Yakko... you should just forget about me. You and Dot would be fine without me, I hold you two down. I should just- stay up here and- and die,” Wakko pulled his knees to his chest. 

“Wakko!” he gasped. “Don’t say that!” he said, much softer. 

“Grandma will never care about me, a-and mum and d-daddoo are gone s-so... it would just be easier for me to stay here... away from you two... just like she wants,” He suppressed tears best he could, but choken on the lump in his throat. 

“Wakko, no.” Wakko heard him turn around to face the door again. 

“No matter what happens, we are not going to give up on you. I’m here- I’m always gonna be here, Wak,” He spoke softly. 

“Mum and Dad said they’d be here too...”

A painful silence hummed through the air. It hurt to even breathe after he spoke. Wakko gave in and cried. 

“Wak... I-i... I don’t know what to say...” Yakko said. 

“Just go away- before you get locked away too,” He sobbed. 

Yakko didn’t respond, staying there for a long, long time. 

Wakko didn’t say anything either. 

“We will rescue you Wak... I promise,” Yakko repeated, before standing up and going. 

Wakko stayed on the floor the rest of the day. 

.o0o.

Angelina hadn’t been sending servants to give him food, only water. 

Wakko had been up there for three days and it was easily the most miserable he had ever been in his life. 

He knew his mother had been sent up there at least once. He could see her carvings in the wall, and scratches on the floor, which he traced over his finger and slowly read. 

“Yakko? Slacky? Wacky?” and “Harold the 9th” were written beside the bed. There was a tally for what he assumed were days next to the broken mirror. Other random words he couldn’t quite read were sprawled all around. 

Yakko came up to talk every now and then, but he never could stay long. Wakko kept meaning to ask him for food, but he knew Angelina was strict on eating hours, so it was unlikely he could sneak into the kitchen to grab anything anymore. It just... wasn’t that simple any more. 

He also promised he was thinking of an escape. Wakko thanked him for the effort, but his hope wasn’t high.

Dot came at one point too. She cried and apologized and explained how it was her fault their grandmother got mad, saying how she hadn’t read the page she was supposed to the night before and didn’t know the types of dresses and she got mad, which made her cry, which made her take her to Yakko, which caused everything else. Wakko told her not to blame herself, but he knew that wasn’t going to resinate. Just another way their grandmother tightened her grip around them. 

But for the most part, he was alone. Utterly and perfectly alone...

He had his little imaginary games in his mind, but even those ran out eventually, mostly due to the cold. Stupid early winters...

One particularly cold night, Wakko said “screw it” and went to the window an looked out at the stars. 

They shined a lot better all the way up here, at least that was nice...

As he looked up, a chill ran through him and he was reminded of just how hungry he was. He cringed in the pain, and looked up at the stars, having run out of tears days ago. 

“I... I wish mum and dad were still here... If they were alive everything would go back to being okay...” he whispered weakly to the brightest star he could see. The stars twinkled back. 

Wakko sighed, lowering his head, continuing to look when he noticed that the star appeared to be growing larger- that wasn’t normal, right? And if it’s not, was it actually happening, or was he just seeing things because he was hungry?

It also appeared to be growing closer- that wasn’t good. Too close and it’d probably destroy the whole castle. Wakko scrambled back from the window and pounded on the door for help, but nobody heard or came. Wakko braced himself as the light got brighter and brighter and eventually filled the dark tower. 

However, nothing crashed or burned or turned him into goop, so Wakko slowly turned around and opened his eyes, and he saw a glowing figure in a really poor looking rope, cheap wand, and wings. 

Well- that was interesting. 

“Uh- who are you?” Wakko asked, really uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger popping into his prison out of nowhere. 

“I’m your desire fulfillment facilitator, Pip,” the desire fulfillment facilitator said dryly. Wakko blinked. 

“Uh- hi, Pip,” he said. 

“Congradulations Wakko, you did it. Out of all of the stars in the night sky, you made your wish up the wishing star,” He said, so monotone Wakko wanted to tears his ears off despite the fact that he was saying good news. 

“The Wishing Star? I’ve never heard of a Wishing Star,” He frowned. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stories?” He asked. Wakko shook his head. 

“Hm... doesn’t matter. You did it anyway. It was your request for a wish that brought me here,” he said. 

“Wait- so- you can bring my parents back?” Wakko realized. He nodded, and Wakko almost passed out. 

“You’ve decided on your wish?” He asked. 

“I just said-”

“Right, right. Welp- here it goes,” Pip snapped his fingers, and ball of green light shot across the sky, and crashed far, far away- behind the mountains in the horizon. Wakko frowned. 

“Hey, what gives? It couldn’t be any closer than that?” He frowned. 

“Oh whoops, too late to fix now,” Pip scratched the back of his neck. Wakko gave him a look. “Looks like you have quite the trek ahead of you.”

“Yeah... I guess so,” Wakko couldn’t be sour for long, now entranced by the bright light. 

“And you better be going if you don’t want competition to build up,” Pip added. 

“What?! How am I supposed to reach it if I’m stuck in this tower! These rules are completely unfair,” Wakko crossed his arms. 

“Don’t worry Wakko, your siblings will be coming to get you soon, you’ll just have to tell them where to go,” Pip explained. 

“Huh?” He tilted his head when he heard footsteps not far away from the door. 

“I must go now- just remember this: the one who touches the fallen star first gets their wish. If you aren’t first, you don’t get it,” He said.

“What’s the point of me wishing on the star then, if it’s just up for grabs? that’s lame,” He crossed his arms. 

“Whoops- I gotta go, bye,” He waved and turned to star dust before disappearing completely, right before he heard a knock at the door. 

So much for that guys help. 

“Wakko?” It was Yakko. 

“Yakko? What’re you doing here?” Wakko asked. 

“We’ve come to break you out,” Dot chimed in, and a very, very, very long rope made of several sheets was pushed through his “meal slot”. 

Wakko didn’t know what to say. 

“Tie one end to the hook by the window and climb down- my advice is to not look down and pretend like it’s just training with Dad. Plus, me and Dot will be waiting for you at the bottom,” Yakko explained. 

“Wait- I have to tell you,” Wakko interrupted. 

“What?” Yakko asked, surprised Wakko wasn’t protesting. 

“I-i made a wish at a star tonight and well- apparently it was the wishing star so now we have to go- like... really actually go so I can make my wish and then everything will be okay and happy just like it used to be,” Wakko said. 

“The... wishing star? I thought that was just some kiddy bedtime story...” Yakko said, mostly to himself. 

“Well- apparently not,” Wakko said, taking one end and tying it to the hook like Yakko said. Yakko sighed. 

“We’ll talk about this once you’re down. Me and Dot are gonna wait at the bottom,” He said. 

“Okay... see you on the other side,” Wakko said, making the mistake at looking at how far away down was, but was surprised the rope actually went all the way down. 

That was a lot of sheets. 

“You got this Wakko!” Dot encouraged, before he heard the two of them go. 

Right. He had this. 

He may not have been very smart, but he was a good climber. He could do this...

At least, he hoped anyway. 

He promised right then and there that if he was going to make it out of this alive, he was definitely going to go to the Wishing Star- it couldn’t be more dangerous than climbing down a 50 foot rope made of tied sheets, 

...Could it?

.o0o. 

Lena despised being in recovery more than anything. She had been rendered practically immobile because of her broken leg, and her weakened muscles took months of physical therapy to rest and recover. 

Every day she thought of her children, and missed them dearly. She knew when all of their birthdays were and was overcome with grief as each passed. 

She was supposed to be there, with them. Celebrating, laughing, protecting.

Instead?

Now she was in William’s hometown, mooching off of their generosity because of her title, feeling utterly and totally useless. 

After months and months of healing and resting and physical therapy she was finally back to semi-functionality. Sure, she could now go for strolls at night with William (it was part of her physical therapy- stupid leg injuries), but she knew she still couldn’t actually do anything- she still couldn’t go back to the castle and put an end to her mother’s reign. They’d be caught- called imposters and possibly be killed. 

Lena couldn’t imagine making her children go through them dying twice. 

“Lena..? What are you thinking about this night?” William asked softly, and Lena remembered where she was. 

“Just... everything,” she sighed. William kissed her hand. 

“We’ll figure it out, I promise,” He said. Lena closed her eyes and tried to believe it. 

“A year William... My mother must’ve done numerous unspeakable things to them by now...” She looked away at the plaza. He squeezed her hand. 

“I was thinking of the same thing...” he said. Lena put her head on his shoulder. 

“I miss Wakko’s jokes... I miss Yakko’s wit... I miss Dot’s smile,” Lena said, smiling a little at the memory. 

“We’ll figure it out soon, i promise,” he kissed her head and closed his eyes as they sat on a bench outside the hospital.

“Soon...” she echoed. 

Soon her ass. 

Soon was a ridiculous unit of time. No matter how much time had passed, everything seemed to be “soon”. The word drove her mad. 

She was going to say something about this, when suddenly a bright green shooting star suddenly soared through the sky, grabbing her attention as it went all the way down before suddenly crashing down behind the Acme Mountains. 

“William- did you see that?” Lena tugged on his arm. 

“See what?” He tilted his head. 

“That star- it crashed just behind Acme Moutains,” She shook him so he opened his eyes and he quickly saw it. 

“That’s- no... that couldn’t be..? Could it?” He squinted at it. 

“I think it is...” Lena said. 

“You think the Wishing Star could actually be real?” He asked. 

“My father taught me about it when I was a little girl, the books are still in the library. My mother never approved of fictional books- it has to be true,” Lena quickly stood up. 

“Careful Lena, you’re still-”

“Oh hush William. Don’t you know what this means?” She asked. “This is our chance- we reach the wishing star we can reunite with the kids- and take down my mother for good.” 

“And everything would be perfect again...” William couldn’t help but smile. He stood and kissed her. 

“C’mon- we haven’t a moment to waste,” Lena said. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Lena, it’s very late. We need to go to sleep,” He said. 

“But- William- it’s right there,” She frowned. 

“Yes, but we’ll have to get a horse or two to share and it’ll be a long and treacherous journey- those mountains aren’t exactly easy to get through,” William warned. Lena sighed. 

“But... it’s right there... Our kids...” She looked at it. 

“I know... but I promise Lena, it’ll still be there in the morning. Wishing Stars aren’t common knowledge, and we’ll have the distance advantage,” William said. “So please... let’s get some rest before we go out, alright?” 

Lena sighed. “I hate when you’re right.”

“You love me,” He teased. 

“I know,” She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. “But.. tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

“To the Wishing Star...” She smiled. 

They were going to see their kids again after all. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

[peachpitfics]

Culinary Chaos

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: Yes

“ Teaching Spencer how to cook and him being all pouty when it doesn't turn out great so the reader comforts him and makes him feel better🥺”

Summary: Spencer meets your Parents and invites them for dinner at his apartment, knowing full well he can’t cook. Even with your help, he still manages to ruin dinner. Luckily, Dad’s got him covered.

Length: 1.3k

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader, Reader’s Mother & Father

Content Warnings: Curse words

A/N: Hiiii, this probably wasn’t what you were asking for, but its sweet and it’s what fell out of my brain today... I hope you enjoy it :) xx

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Instant regret filled Spencer’s body as he realized what he’d done. Dating for 6 months, you had introduced your boyfriend to your parents at a family dinner they had invited him to. With your background, your Father had cooked this beautiful meal, enjoyed by everyone, but especially Spencer. There was nothing he loved more than home cooked food. You guessed it was because of how he grew up...

And that’s where Spencer decided to invite your parents for dinner, at his apartment, on Saturday night.

As soon as you left and got into your car, Spencer lost it. He frantically ran his hands through his hair and jittered his leg around. Anxiety not only filled his stomach, but yours too. “Why did I do that?” His voice shook. “Because you’re a nice person, and you wanted to make a good impression” You nodded. “Uh huh, yeah, well” You could tell that the higher his voice got, the more he was panicking, “I don’t even own pots and pans” The dread washed over him as he realized he wasn’t capable of making anything that wasn’t coffee or toast.

You wanted to laugh but didn’t want to further embarrass him. Spencer was quiet from there until you got to his apartment. You tried to converse with him, but all he could do was be in his head and bounce his leg up and down. Spencer led you into his apartment, his pace quicker than normal. Before you knew it, he was tearing his kitchen apart, while you sat and watched on in utter surprise. Spencer didn’t half ass things, he always gave it 100% and more often than not, he was successful.

“You need to stop panicking” You said sternly, finally having had enough of this chaotic Spencer. “What am I going to do?!” He near on shouted, frustrated with himself. You approached him, taking him into your arms and holding onto him as tightly as possible. After a minute, he finally melted. You could feel his energy shift. You rubbed your hand up the length of his back, “I’m going to help you, if you would just calm down” You giggled.

When you parted, he was softer, slower. That frantic energy had dissipated. You helped him put his kitchen wares back in the cupboards and decided what he was going to make for dinner. You were going to keep it simple, with a roast beef and vegetables. Something you knew your parents liked & something you could cook, so you could teach Spence. When you explained the logistics and wrote a shopping list together, he calmed and was much happier.

 ——————- Saturday Afternoon ———————

 The shopping was done, Spencer was prepared, and you had brought a baking dish from your apartment for the roast. He had started on the vegetables, Spencer’s concentration through the roof. You stood behind him, lovingly wrapping your arms around his middle and drawing in his scent from the back of his shirt. You planted small kisses on his back and ran your hands down his sides. But Spencer ignored you, he kept peeling and chopping vegetables. “You’re staring at those carrots as if they’re going to run away” You whispered up to him. “They might if you keep distracting me” He chuckled. More time passed, more time where you were not the center of his attention and it was bugging you. Now he was preparing the meat. He was doing everything exactly how you told him. When you were finally fed up with being ignored, you decided to take your shower and get dressed for dinner. Your parents would be here in about an hour, and Spencer was already ready. He’d been ready for hours, perpetually worrying he was going to mess something up.

You came back to the kitchen, smoke billowing out of the oven into Spencer’s face. “I’ve been gone 45 minutes, all you had to do was let it sit?!” You exclaimed, watching him hurricane right back into chaos. “Babe, what’s going?” You asked, now frantic yourself. “The fucking meat is on fire” Spencer’s voice was high and scratchy, his stress filled the room much like a smoke. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Spencer donned odd oven mitts and pulled the baking dish from the oven, a medium sized fire spread across the whole of the meat, engulfing it. Spencer dropped the baking dish into the sink, throwing a tea towel over the top of, hoping to smother it out. An enormous crack rang out, the baking dish breaking in half over the heat.

You took it upon yourself to open all the windows and waved one of Spence’s jumper around to sweep the smoke out of the apartment. Once it was clearer to see in the kitchen, you went back to check on Spencer. He sat against the counter where the sink was, elbows on his knees and hands over his face. “This... is a disaster” He mumbled sadly. You took a seat next to him, linking your arm around his and kissed him on his arm. “Ah, it’s not so bad” You smiled, “It’ll be a funny story one day”. “Not today, it’s not funny today” He grumbled, “Your parents are going to be here any minute. My apartment is smoky, the charcoal ball in the sink is ruined and there’s nothing in the apartment for dinner” He almost began to laugh, but you were sure that was to keep from crying. Spencer wasn’t always this way in regard to failing; this particular meal was very important to him. He’d never been in contact with a partner’s parents before, so this was special.

You stood, reached your hand down to him. Pulling Spencer up, you reefed him into a bear hug. “Everything will be okay” You squeezed him tight, his chin resting on your head. You knew what your parents were like, they wouldn’t have ever held this against Spencer. The doorbell rang out, just what you needed. The kitchen was a mess, and the smoke hadn’t cleared, you didn’t want Spencer to be embarrassed. But he pulled up his metaphorical socks and answered the door. He shook your Fathers hand and kissed your Mothers cheek as they entered the apartment. You greeted them, watching their faces as they observed the chaos. “What’s happened here?” Your Father asked softly, walking into the kitchen, and lifting the tea towel in the sink. The black ball of burnt meat lay underneath. “Dear me” Y/F/n smiled. “Yeah... I... can’t cook” Spencer confessed. “It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it?” Your Mother hummed. She herself wasn’t a good cook. “That’s an understatement” The corners of Spencer’s mouth were twisted into a smile. “Can I give you some advice?” Y/F/n asked gently, not wanting to put him off trying again.

“Of course, Sir, please” Spencer approached the kitchen, excited to learn. Your mother and you stood in the entryway, watching on. “I assume this caught fire” Your Dad laughed, waving soft smoke out of his face, “Which means, your oven was too high and the fat caught fire. The oven then becomes a furnace and suddenly, bam! You’ve lost your roast” Y/F/n chuckled. “So, next time I should do it on a lower heat for longer?” Spencer asked gingerly. “Oh Absolutely, that way is better anyway, it cooks nicer. I wouldn’t worry too much about this though, I set fire to a few before I got a good one, didn’t I darling?” Y/F/n turned back to your Mother and laughed. She nodded along, chuckling herself. Spencer’s anxiety over the whole situation, disappeared. It was comforting for him knowing that even good cooks, like y/F/n, had catastrophes like this. “So, shall we order a pizza?” Y/M/n suggested. “Pizza this time, but next time, we do a roast. Together, I’ll show you how to get it perfect” Y/F/n draped his arm around Spencer’s shoulder, leading him to the living room to order that pizza.

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[goodlucktai]

a little room to grow

@natsumeweek 2021 day 5; freedom/possession

read on ao3

(previous part)

x

Hinata takes one look at them and says, “Holy shit. Get in here, Natoris.”

So they must look pretty bad, then. 

Takashi is uncharacteristically quiet, going right to the sofa and gathering Hinata’s cat up in his arms. 

Hinata watches him for a moment, turns and stares directly into Shuuichi’s face, and then heads into the kitchen to snatch up a takeout menu that she keeps permanently stuck to the front of her fridge under a huge Cinnamoroll magnet.

“Sit,” Hinata says with a jerk of her chin towards the table. She tucks her cellphone between her shoulder and her ear and unfolds the paper menu with a business-like snap. “I’m ordering enough junk food for all three of us, and then you’re going to tell me why you look like that.”

Shuuichi sits. 

Hinata lives with her single mother, who works thirds, and her aunt, who doesn’t work but often has somewhere else to be. It’s unlikely either of them are going to make an appearance tonight.

The TV is on in the living room, playing what sounds like Sailor Moon. Takashi is watching it just because it’s already on, but he’s slowly becoming more invested the longer he sits there—Shuichi can tell from the way his hand on the little cat in his lap slows its petting, the way his round brown eyes become fixed on the screen. The sounds of traffic and rain outside are muted, the outside world hardly existing past what little pieces of it make it through the open window in the kitchen. 

It’s peaceful here. It’s almost home, even.

Hinata puts the phone down, sits across from Shuuichi, and crosses her arms on top of the table. Her silence is expectant.

Shuuichi says, “I don’t think I’m going to university.”

His friend inclines her head, an invitation to go on. 

“The university my father wants me to go to is almost an hour away from here,” Shuuichi says, clenching his fists. “And it wouldn’t be possible for Takashi to transfer there, because someone in the school district administration is a cousin of his or something. Word got around about his behavior, and they don’t think he’d be a good addition to their student body.”

“Takashi’s relatives haven’t had anything to do with him since he was five,” Hinata says hotly. “What the hell do they know about his behavior? He’d be the best thing to happen to that school in the last hundred years.”

Shuuichi, who completely agrees with her, says, “You’re biased.”

“I’m right.” She taps her fingers anxiously against the table. “Let me guess, your dad—”

“Doesn’t see the problem. Told me I was going anyway.” Shuuichi barks a tense, humorless laugh, sitting back and pushing a hand through his hair. “Could you imagine? Me, leaving Takashi in that house, with those people? With no one but ghosts to talk to?”

It was inevitable that Hinata would find out about Shuuichi and his brother’s ‘gift,’ given how much time they spend together and all the odd things Takashi says on a daily basis. The most remarkable thing to come of the ultimate reveal was the solid three months she spent relentlessly trying to bribe, coerce and blackmail Shuuichi into using his paper magic to send her notes during school hours, because they were put in different classes in their third year. 

Now, she frowns deeply, and says, “No. That won’t do. So what’s the plan?” 

“I’m working on it,” Shuuichi replies. 

“I would be okay,” Takashi pipes up. Shuuichi looks up to find his little brother standing by the table with wide, grave eyes. He’s tugging anxiously at the cuffs of his sleeves. The worry on his face doesn’t belong there. It doesn’t fit someone his age. “If you had to go.”

Shuuichi pushes his chair back and lifts his arm. Takashi rounds the table and allows himself to be tucked against Shuuichi’s side snugly. 

“Maybe you would, but I wouldn’t,” Shuuichi says. “I’d miss bugging you too much.”

“I mean it,” Takashi says stubbornly. “I don’t want you to get yelled at anymore.”

“I mean it, too,” Shuuichi replies. “Dad can yell all he wants. You’re stuck with me, squirt.”

Saying it out loud settles something anxious that’s been rattling around in his chest. Knowing what he has to do makes it easier to focus on the steps that come next. For now, he tilts to the side so that he can rest enough of his weight on his little brother that he starts to sag underneath it.

“Nii-san! Stop, you’re heavy!”

“What was that?” Shuuichi says loudly, tilting farther, half out of his chair at this point. “I’m heavy? Is that what you said?”

The doorbell rings, and Hinata says, “No no, I’ll get it, don’t let me interrupt your intricate bonding rituals,” which is a cue that they should stop messing around and go help her carry in the frankly staggering amount of takeout bags a weary-looking delivery boy is wielding on the porch. 

“Munchkin, will you get some glasses and the iced tea?” Hinata asks. “Let’s eat in front of the TV like slobs.”

Takashi slides back into the kitchen, skidding a little too far in his socks and knocking the paper towels off the counter, and Shuuichi snorts. It feels like the first time he’s smiled in a year. 

Hinata touches his arm. “Hey,” she says seriously. “I’m going to visit Isamu on Thursday, and I’m staying for about a week. You two should come with. Stop thinking about all this stuff for a bit and give yourself a break.”

“I don’t want to bother you guys—”

“Try not to be an idiot for once in your life,” Hinata says with an exaggerated air of total exhaustion. “You know it wouldn’t be a bother. Besides, Isamu has a little sister Takashi’s age, and she’s into all kinds of weird stuff. They’d probably get along like a house on fire.”

Shuuichi thinks a week in the country sounds pretty good, actually. He’s mulling it over when Takashi comes running; with a stack of colorful plastic glasses in one hand, a pitcher of tea in the other, and a box of Koala March tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Can I have these, nee-san?” he asks brightly. He looks nine years old again instead of ninety, all that worry from earlier finally unseated. 

“Oh, I guess,” Hinata says with deep reluctance, as if she didn’t buy them specifically for Takashi in the first place. She doesn’t even like chocolate. “Dinner first, though! Put those koalas where I can see them!”

She cares about Takashi like it’s effortless. Like it just makes sense to make space for him in her home and keep his favorite snacks in her kitchen. Considering the place they came here from, it disarms Shuuichi completely.

“We’ll go with you,” he says without thinking.

“Of course you will,” Hinata replies immediately. “I was only asking to be polite. Now eat your food.”

And that’s how they wind up in Hitoyoshi, Kumamoto, of all places. It’s unmistakably beautiful but Shuuichi only gets a brief moment to appreciate the scenery before Hinata is dragging him—and by extension, Takashi—out of the station to the street outside, where a familiar face is waiting. 

She releases Shuuichi in order to fling herself bodily at Isamu, who doesn’t so much as bat an eye. Hinata is much taller than her boyfriend, which Shuuichi thinks is just typical of Hinata, but Isamu doesn’t care. She could be seventeen feet tall and weigh a thousand pounds and he would still find a way to hold her. 

“Hey,” he says over her shoulder, lifting one hand to wave at the Natoris. “Hug train is pulling out of the station, get yours before it’s gone.”

Laughing, Shuuichi says, “I’m good. Takashi?”

“No, thank you,” Takashi says politely.

“Your loss.” Hinata sniffs, and busies herself with picking up the bags she’d flung to the ground. “Is your sister at home?”

“Mhm,” Isamu says, taking one of Takashi’s bags and slinging it over his own shoulder. “She’s shy. I’m amazed she agreed to meet you guys at all. Bribery was involved.”

Takashi shuffles, glancing sideways at Shuuichi. 

“I’ll bet you two-thousand yen that you’re best friends by the end of the day,” Shuuichi says at once, to make the situation a win-win. That always works.

Sure enough, Takashi holds out his hand. “Deal.”

They shake on it solemnly. 

Isamu gives Shuuichi a deeply approving look and says, “I’ll have to remember that one.”

Tooru and Takashi are actually best friends within about an hour and a half. 

Once the Natoris have been settled into a large guest room and wandered around on a cheap tour of the estate, and Hinata has dumped all of her stuff in her boyfriend’s bedroom, Isamu drags Tooru out of hiding to eat a late lunch with them. 

Tooru shuffles into the chair across from Takashi and makes her polite introduction, and then mumbles that she only has a couple of friends so she isn’t sure what they ought to talk about. Takashi blithely replies that he doesn’t have any friends, because he can see yokai and people tend to think that’s strange. Shuuichi and Hinata are both frozen, holding their chopsticks halfway to their mouths as they wait to see which way this is going to go, but Isamu just takes an unhurried sip of tea.

And then Tooru lunges across the table to seize Takashi’s hands, shouting, “You can see yokai? You have to come meet my grandpa!” and all but drags him out of the kitchen, their lunches left untouched. 

“You might never get your brother back,” Isamu says mildly. “That’s okay, there’s enough space here for two little weirdos.”

“So you believe in ghosts now?” Hinata demands. 

“I don’t believe in things I can’t see for myself,” Isamu replies. He waits a beat, rolling a thought around in his head like a marble, and then adds reluctantly, “But if three people I trust can see them, maybe that’s just as good. I already apologized to gramps for thinking he was just a delusional old man.”

“You did not say that to your grandpa,” Shuuichi says, horrified. 

“I didn’t say it, I just said I was sorry for thinking it.” Isamu sits back in his chair, frowning at his plate. “Tooru never needed any proof. She believes him just because she loves him. I think there’s value in that. Figured I’d give it a try.”

When Shuuichi tracks the kids down later, they’ve multiplied. Sasago and Urihime are supervising as Tooru, Takashi, and two little boys of a similar age chase each other around the garden, a half-dozen little yokai running underfoot. 

Takashi spots him and brightens, breaking away from the game to jump up onto the porch and slam into Shuuichi’s side. Shuuichi ruffles his hair, because it’s already a windswept mess, and it makes Takashi wrinkle his nose in annoyance. 

“Taki-ojisan wasn’t feeling well, so he’s taking a nap,” Takashi explains. He’s flushed from the sun and grass-stained. “We had fun, though. All of his yokai friends had lots of things they wanted to say to him so we played telephone. Mostly they were teasing him, which didn’t seem very nice, but it made oji-san laugh a lot.”

“And who are those two?” Shuuichi asks, nodding at the unfamiliar boys. 

“Tooru’s friends from school. They were coming by to see if Tooru wanted to go to the river with them, and she introduced me.” Shyly, Takashi adds, “They’re nice.”

“Hey!” the russet-haired boy calls over. “Are we going swimming or what?” 

“Can we, please?” Tooru asks, folding her hands together.

His brother gazes up at him with eyes that are big and hopeful, a look that has worked for him for years. Shuuichi shakes his head ruefully. 

“As long as you stay with Tooru, and don’t let your phone get soaked,” he says sternly. “And you know to answer when I call, right?” 

“Right,” Takashi says, without attitude, because that’s one of their most important rules. “Can I take Urihime with me? She’ll throw Satoru in the water if I ask her to, Sasago won’t.”

“For that reason alone, you’re taking Sasago,” Shuuichi replies. 

It’s a noisy circus troupe of kids who finally leave, armed with towels and a bag of snacks pilfered from the kitchen and an entourage of rowdy spirits that only one of them can see. 

Shuuichi leans against the gate, watching them go. He’s wary of the unfamiliar yokai, but with his shiki nearby and clearly unbothered, he doesn’t see a reason to break up the strange congregation. Over the years, he’s had to get used to the way Takashi attracts these things. They come to him like moths to a flame. 

Most exorcists hate yokai, but Shuuichi doesn’t. How could he? His little brother is a medium, and some of the only people he can count on to babysit for him are his familiars. Yokai are so much a part of his life that to hate them would be to fill his heart with hatred, and he doesn’t have room in his heart for all that. It’s too full of other things. 

Hinata joins him by the door. 

“You know,” she says carefully, “I was going to bring this up later, but…the university that Isamu and I are going to is only a half-hour away from here. And the schools here are really good.”

Shuuichi stands in the sun, watches his little brother laugh with children his own age, and exhales.

[woozibby]

Delete My Feelings: Part 32: The Date

includes: fluff, wholesome and smiley!yoongi, a bit of sad angst at the end?? idk if it would class as angst though.

wc: 1667

a.n. ahh so the date is finally here!! I’m sorry it took a while to post, but I wanted the date to be just right! I hope you enjoy this written part and please do tell me what you think! This is only slightly edited, so I’m sorry in advance if there are any mistakes.

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You nibbled at the dry skin on your lips as you stood and studied yourself in the mirror. Taking in your outfit, you let out a small sigh and ran a hand through your hair.

“You look great,” Seulgi smiles from behind you.

With your laptop positioned in front of her, you glanced at her through the mirror and smiled slightly as she typed away.

“You sure?”

Closing the laptop lid, Seulgi looks up at you and continues to smile.

“Of course! You’ll knock his socks off!”

Laughing at her expression, you shake your head and turn to her. He would be here soon and it was like the nerves were eating away at your stomach. You couldn’t explain it.

On the one hand, you were excited, but on the other, you were scared. This was something that you’d never really thought about, something that you could have never seen coming.

Seulgi notices the nervous look that washed over your face and gets up from her place on your bed. She takes the few steps towards you and links your fingers with hers.

“It’ll be okay y/n, no matter what happens tonight, you’ll both be okay,” squeezing her fingers lightly, you try your best to smile.

“I know, I just—...” you pause and take a moment to think. “I don’t want us to be awkward.”

“Dude, he loves you to no end,” Seulgi laughs, pulling you in for a hug. “There is nothing on this earth that you could do that would make him love you any less.”

You don’t wait to return the hug as you wrap your arms around her waist and rest your head against her shoulder.

“Just listen to your heart and see what it tells you,” Seulgi says. “If anything, at least you gave it a shot.”

The sound of Yoongi knocking at your door was enough to break the hug. Pulling away from you, Seulgi sends you a comforting smile.

“I’ll be here when you get back and you can tell me all about it,”

Nodding your head once more, you pick up your phone and keys and slip them into your large coat pockets before making your way to the door.

“Hey,” you smile as you open it to see Yoongi standing there, flowers in hand.

“Hi, sorry,” he quickly enters. “I got you these.”

Taking them, you bring them to your nose and take a quick sniff. Your cheeks were already beginning to turn pink— you wanted to blame it on the fact you were wearing your coat inside.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful, I’ll just put them in the kitchen.”

As you do that, Seulgi comes out from your bedroom and smiles at the older boy.

“I want her back by midnight,” she laughs. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Rolling your eyes, you push her away slightly when you come close and click your tongue.

“Shut up, don’t you have Hobi to bug?”

Seulgi’s lips form into a pout and she shakes her head.

“Nope, all on my lonesome tonight, so you better have a good time and bring her back safe you hear me?” she says, turning her attention to Yoongi. “Now you kids go have fun.”

Yoongi laughs and you roll your eyes again for the second time that night.

“Yes mum,” Yoongi opens your front door and before you leave, you turn back to Seulgi with a smile. “Help yourself to anything, I’ll message you when I’m on my way back.”

“Yes yes,” she says pushing you out the door. “Now go, have fun!”

Yoongi hadn’t told you where you were going. He kept saying how it was a surprise and that you’d love it. How you’d love it so much that it would break any doubts you had over surprises in the first place.

You didn’t bother to correct him, or to argue, so you sat in silence as the radio played. Your nerves began to wash away just from his presence alone.

It was nice, he was nice. Everything was nice.

After about half an hour of driving, yoongi pulls into a small dinner. You raise an eyebrow as you look at him when he turns off the car and he just smiles.

“Part one, food” he smiles.

Entering the small establishment, yoongi guides you up to the menus and you take a few moments to go over and decide what you wanted. Once you were done, he made his way to the counter and ordered the food.

“Do you want me to find a seat?” You ask, only for him to shake his head.

“No, I got it to go,” noticing your confused gaze, he just laughs to himself. “You’ll see.”

It didn’t take long for the food to be cooked and served. Maybe because it was so empty, it was the only thing they had to do. So yoongi took the bag and you both made your way back to his car and once you were inside, he passed you over the bag.

“It smells so good,” you say, peaking at the contents inside.

“I know, but just wait, it’ll be worth it”

“Okay, if you say so,” you mumble. You try your best to keep your eyes off your food as it would make you more hungry, but the smell just made it ten times more difficult.

“We’re almost there, I promise” yoongi take his eyes off the road, but as you look over you see a small smile playing at his features.

“Okay, I believe you.”

It was another ten minutes or so before yoongi pulled the car over and placed it in park before turning off the engine. He opened his door, got out and made his way to the boot before opening it and pulling out something. 

“You coming?” He asks, looking up at you through the gap. 

“Where are we?” You ask, exiting the car as you made sure to bring the food with you. 

“Just come on,” he closes the boot and holds out his hand for you to take, which you do and he begins to lead you a few meters away from his car. 

It’s when you stop walking that you notice the blanket clutched in his one hand. He lets go of your hand before he shakes out the blanket and places it on the ground. 

“I thought,” He sits and motions for you to join him, which you do. “We could eat and watch the stars.” 

You were thankful that it was getting darker as it hid your blushing cheeks and to try and combat this, you focused your attention on the food. 

“Should we- should we eat?” 

“Sure,” 

So you both quickly tuck into the food that was slowly beginning to go cold. Even when it was cold it was still nice, you made a mental note to ask yoongi how he found that place and how you should go again. 

Once you’re both done, you place the rubbish in the original bag before you both lie down on the blanket and look up at the stars. It was so quiet, so peaceful. You never knew that yoongi could be like this when it came to dates- this thoughtful and pure. 

It was after a moment or two that you finally rolled over to face him. Resting your head on your arm, you watch him silently as he watched the stars. 

“You good?” He asks, smiling to himself. He kept his head facing straight up, but it wasn’t long before he couldn’t wait any longer and faced you. 

“This is really nice,” You smile. “Who knew you were such a thoughtful guy.” 

Yoongi laughs and the presence of his gummy smile made your heart jump. It was the smile you didn’t see often, but when you did, boy was it special. 

“I guess next time I’ll just have to pull out all the stops.” 

“You mean this isn’t even your best date idea?” you gasp quietly. 

He shrugs to himself and rolls back over to look at the sky. 

“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out huh?” 

As you continue to watch him, your smile doesn’t falter. You sigh a quiet, but content sigh and hum. 

“Yeah, I will.” 

Who knows how long you guys had been lying there. Most of the time you had spent there was spent in silence. However, that silence wasn’t a bad thing. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t boring or bad. It was nice, it was content, it was in its own way magical. It was mystical, it was like a viewing, well it was a viewing of that was out there to be seen in the universe. It was your friendship with yoongi defined into one evening- one moment. 

It was rare, beautiful and something memorable. 

When you began to feel cold and see your breath in the air, yoongi sat up and you both decided on that it was a good time as any to return home. So you got back into his car, the same radio channel played and again it was content. 

You got back to your apartment and yoongi made sure to walk you back up to your door like a gentleman. Before you parted ways, you turned to him with a smile. 

“Thank you for tonight, it was lovely,” he smiles back and nods his head. You could see his cheeks tint a light pink colour and it made you giggle. 

“Thank you also,” he looks you in the eyes. “However, can I do one more thing?” 

“Which is?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your cheeks quickly match his own and you nod your head once, letting him to it was okay, and without missing a beat, he leans in and connects your lips. It was over in a matter of moments and as you pulled away, you knew by the look in his eyes. You knew because you felt it too. 

There was no spark.

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[gravegroves]

Can I ask about 2 and 8 for the wip tag game?

I've already talked about 8 (search #tag game in my tags and you'll find it).

But omg thank you for asking about 2!!

2. Like a Bat Out of Hell, Indiana

Oh man, oh man. This. This right here? This is my baby. My precious. The one I wrote so self indulgently that even if no one else likes it, I LIKE IT. And I'm completely okay with that.

El and Hopper fail at closing the gate at the end of s2, Billy appears at the Byers' house just in time and so begins a mad dash across the country, trying to outrun the end of the fucking world.

Tw: death (no one we care about though)

Excerpt:

The sound of a car roaring into the driveway has Steve's heart crashing up into his throat and they all turn to watch as headlights dance across the living room walls, sharp and blinding, like a goddamn beacon of hope.

And Steve doesn't have time to think about why the deep rumbling of the engine sounds so familiar.

He moves the kids now or they die.

"Get to the car, now!" Steve screams, just as the window at the end of the hall explodes inward.

Max gets to the door first and tears out of the house, sprinting toward the high beam lights with the boys hot on her heels.

"Billy!" She screams and goddamnit she can't mean--

She reaches the car, yanks the passenger side door open and pushes the front seat forward, shoving Dustin, Mike and Lucas into the back before diving in herself, righting the front seat in a practised move just in time for Steve to jump in after her.

And yep. There he is.

Hargrove's expression would be hilarious if they weren't seconds away from being overrun by a horde of carnivorous monster dogs.

"What the fuck do you losers think you're doing?!" Billy roars, eyes bugging slightly when he recognises Steve.

"Harrington?!"

Steve grabs him by the collar and screams into his face: "Just fucking drive!" 

A loud crash has them both snapping their heads to the side just in time to watch as a hundred Demodogs or more come rushing out from behind the Byers' house, heading straight for them.

Without another word, Billy yanks the car into reverse and accelerates before hitting the breaks. Steve's stomach swoops as their momentum lets the wheels slide over the gravel to land perfectly on the road.

He grabs Billy's arm, yanks on it like it might shake some urgency into him.

"Hargrove, go!"

"Seatbelts! Get the seatbelts" Max yells at the others.

That's what she's worried about? Steve thinks, even as he reaches over his shoulder to strap himself in.

Then Billy puts the car into gear and guns it forward and they go from 0 to 70 mph in ten seconds flat, zooming down old, twisting back roads and Steve honestly can't believe that Hargrove's insane, wannabe NASCAR driving is gonna be what saves their asses tonight.

"What the hell are you doing all the way out here with my sister, huh?" Billy yells, taking his eyes off the road to look over at him and Steve might seriously have a fucking heart attack.

"Eyes on the road!" He exclaims, foot searching the footwell for a break pedal that isn't there, "For real, man? You want to do this now?!"

"Or you can get out and fucking walk, amigo," Billy snarls, swerving around another Demodog leaping for the hood of his car, "What the hell is up with these dogs?"

"Billy, stop it! Can you jus-- look out!" Max shrieks, her arm shooting between them to point straight ahead and the kids all begin yelling as the flower-in-bloom-faced ugly fuck grows larger in the windscreen at an alarming speed.

Smooth as butter, Billy avoids the gaping creature in their path, not taking his foot off the accelerator for even a second. Steve's heart beats a drum solo against his adam's apple. His fingers feel fused to the edges of the seat, holding on for dear life.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that?" Billy turns to look behind him and Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw hurts, barely restraining himself from yanking Billy around to face forward again.

"Hargrove, I swear to God--"

"Oh god, look."

Steve turns his head the slightest amount to see Lucas pointing out of the window at the treeline to their right.

Demodogs.

Lots of them.

So many slimy, greyish bodies that the forest floor has all but disappeared and transformed into a churning sea of dark, slick oil.

More worryingly, they're all running in the same direction as the Camaro.

Fuck.

"What the…" Billy falters when he looks out of the window at the treeline, then seems to shake it off, placing his undivided attention back on the road for once.

He speeds up to pass a whole group of the beasts trying to cross to the other side, narrowly misses being cut off entirely by the mass of Demodog bodies. Steve releases a hand from the seat only to clutch at the grab handle on the door. He closes his eyes, swears he can feel his stomach fall out of his ass when the wheels on his side of the car lift into the air for half a beat.  

"Shit, we're gonna die!" Dustin wails, voice wobbly as Billy jerks the wheel again to avoid a creature charging straight for them. If the kids weren't already packed in like sardines they'd be sliding around back there, seatbelt or no. "We're definitely gonna die! This psycho is gonna kill us before the monsters do!"

Billy scowls into the rear-view mirror and grits out "Hey kid, you're welcome to get out and walk."

"You literally tried to run us off the road a week ago--"

"Not the time, Dustin!" Max snaps and shushes him.

"We need to get to the gate!" Mike blurts out, leaning forward to speak directly at Steve. Demanding. "We need to help El!"

Steve doesn't even have the faintest idea of how to begin doing any of that.

"Dude, we can't just go back there, are you crazy--" Lucas pulls him back and they continue to argue in harsh whispers.

"If you losers don't shut the fuck up, I'll crash this goddamn car just so I can take you all with me." Billy barks, knuckles white on the wheel.

"Oh my god, see! What did I tell you?" Dustin exclaims, "He's dangerous, Steve!"

Yeah, well, he's all that we've got, Steve doesn’t say. "Shut up, Dustin."

They turn into the first proper residential street and Billy misses a tree by an inch as he tries to avoid colliding with five demodogs hunched over something on the road.

Oh god, was that a body?

"Harrington, where the fuck am I going?"

Steve closes his eyes, overwhelmed and completely out of his depth. They might have been the B team, but there hadn't actually been a plan B--

"Fuck, fuck! I don't know--"

"Billy," Max pleads, voice shaky with terror, silencing them all, "My mom…" 

Billy sighs explosively before turning down a side street, barely slowing down.

"Shit."

*****

It's not just Max's mom, but Dustin's mom, too. Lucas's family. Mike's family. 

They reach Old Cherry Road first and Billy barely allows the car to come to a full stop, Demodogs further down the street are taking notice of them already, stalking forward, mouths blooming excitedly. Steve eyes them warily until a garbled oh fuck from the back seat draws his attention to the other side of the street and--

It's bad.

The porch light sets the stage for a grizzly scene at the Hargrove residence. A woman lies directly beneath it, like the opening shot to a fucked up play, her head of red hair spilling over the top step.

She's very obviously dead. Steve can see where she must have tripped on the welcome rug -- awkwardly stiff and upturned between her feet -- and he can only hope she got knocked out in the fall and didn't feel a thing that came after. There isn't much left between her head and her knees except for a dark patch of gøre.

The headless body of a man lies slumped against a truck parked in the driveway, one arm stuck through the open car door, half torn off within his jacket. Blood still running down the concrete incline, pooling in the roadside gutter.

"Oh, you Bastard," Billy spits, barely a whisper.

The longer Steve stares, the more horrifying the scene becomes.

He doesn't want Max to see this. Or Billy.

Max doesn't make a sound.

Billy slams his fist against the steering wheel a couple of times, then peels away from the curb before the Demodogs can get too close.

*****

Dustin's house is dark. There's no car in the driveway.

"I told her Mews had been seen in Loch Nora. She must still be out looking..." Dustin trails off quietly. Shellshocked.

It's almost midnight. Steve doubts she's still out looking for a cat. And if she is...

"I wanted to keep her out of the way."

No one says anything.

They drive.

*****

The Sinclair house is dark, too, no lights on except for the motion sensor activated ones over the empty carport.

Billy doesn't bother slowing down. The area is absolutely swarming with creatures already.

"It's so late. Where..." Lucas falters, scanning the houses they pass, like he made a mistake and his home will appear any minute now. "Where did they go?"

"I'm sure they're okay, man," Steve tries, but it feels flat, false, "If they're in a car they could make it out. Your mom too, Dustin."

Billy grimaces, but says nothing.

"What?" Steve demands.

"I was just here looking for Max. They were home." 

He keeps a laser focus on the road now, on avoiding the monsters spilling out onto their path, growling when he's forced to change down a gear before aggressively working his way up in speed once more, jaw clenched tight.

"You probably caught them on their way out." Steve insists.

Billy looks doubtful, but he nods anyway. Neither of them enough of an asshole to take a kid's hopes away like that.

They move on.

*****

"Let me out," Mike says, quietly. Trembling. Hands pushing against the back of Steve's seat like he'll be able to bend it out of the way through sheer force of will.

No one moves.

The front door to the Wheeler home is open, door splintered where the deadbolt held, but the wood didn't. The car is parked in the carport. All the lights are on. 

Karen Wheeler's corpse lies forgotten and half devoured on the front lawn.

In the driveway, a tiny yellow sock lies next to bloody drag marks disappearing into the grass--

Oh god...

"Let me out." 

Steve's lips move, but he can't seem to draw breath enough to produce sound..

Billy seems to shake himself out of a daze, takes a deep breath beside him. "Nah, kid."

And Mike just snaps. 

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" He screams, punching and kicking the seat in front of him.

Steve leans forward out of the seat and puts his head in his hands. 

"Let me out! LET ME OUT!" Mike shrieks, begs.

"No." Billy says again, evenly.

Mike's voice breaks on a wordless scream.

Steve wants to do his own bit of kicking and screaming, but someone needs to keep their fucking head in the game or they're all going to end up dead.

By some twisted turn of fate that someone is turning out to be Billy fucking Hargrove.

Hysterically, he remembers hearing about Billy abandoning Carla Green to walk home alone from the quarry after she'd scratched the Camaro's dashboard with her fake nails by accident.

Mike kicks the back of the seat again. Billy says nothing.

All the kids are crying, now.

Mike's screams eventually taper off into babbling sobs and Dustin does his best to comfort him through his own half-choked cries. Lucas is whispering to a sobbing Max, his own breaths hitching and heaving uncontrollably, on the edge of breaking.

Steve's eyes sting, hidden behind his hands.

He lifts his head up and glances over at Billy, still tracking the side of the road, the edge of the trees. He looks so normal that it almost throws Steve for a loop. He wants to grab Billy by the collar again. Shake him. Scream: what part of this aren't you getting?

"The fuck is going on?" Billy hisses, almost to himself and oh, right.

"Later," Steve promises, hoarsely, digs the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough to see stars.

"You know what they are?"

"Yeah." Steve says after a great deal of swallowing past the lump in his throat.

If Hargrove's voice betrays even a hint of emotion Steve knows he's gonna fucking lose it. Luckily, the guy keeps his shit together so Steve can keep a lid on his.

"You know what kills them?" Billy continues.

"Heat," Dustin says, voice thick, "And, like, bullets."

Billy nods, "Alright, how warm are we talking?"

"They don't like warm weather or daylight, but I don't think it kills them. Weakens them, maybe. Sends them underground."

"Fire will." Steve says, pulling at his hair until it hurts, dragging himself out of foggy despair and into the present where he's needed. He accidentally runs his gaze past Karen's body and tries not to dry-heave.

Mike is still crying behind him and god fuck, they should get out of here. The kid shouldn't be seeing this.

"Where do we go?" Max whispers, like she read his mind. She sounds as lost as Steve feels.

Billy revs the engine and turns to Steve, "Any requests?"

Steve thinks about the huge empty house waiting for him, a gaping nightmare at the edge of the woods. He balks at the thought.

Where the fuck do we go?

"Just get us out of Hawkins."

[littlemissaddict]

I Want You

Summary: Y/n finally finds out the secret that Owen had been keeping from her.

Word count: 1648

A/n: So @bebudaful (I hope you don’t mind the tag) suggested I write a follow up to this post and I know I said I might do it if I got time but this is all I’ve thought about since you suggested it so thank you.

---

The feeling of someone tugging on your earphones pulled your attention away from your work on the screen in front of you. Pulling the earphones out completely and turning in your chair you found Owen watching you with a small pout on his face.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for 15 minutes now” he whines as you lift the earphones up in answer which causes him to roll his eyes. “Well I know that now” he replies, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“So what did you want?” You ask, quickly glancing away from him to check the time as you were working to a deadline that you really couldn’t afford to miss.

“I uh just wanted to know if you had plans for tomorrow night” he asks nervously as if he was asking you out for the first time, instead of after dating for two years and being friends for so much longer. It was strange, much like Owen’s behaviour the past few weeks but you pushed it to the back of your mind for later as you really needed to focus on your work.

“Owen we’re in the middle of a pandemic, I’d be really surprised if anyone had any plans” you teased, shaking your head at him.

Deciding to ignore your snarky comment, Owen decided to focus on the positive that you had no plans as he explained what he had planned.

“I was thinking we could dress up, you know as if we where going on a proper date, order food from that little Italian place you like and just spend the evening together with no distractions”

A smile lit up your face as you thought about the idea, it sounded fun. Sure you had spent the entire time in quarantine together but it had been a long time since you’d had a proper date night. You agreed immediately, not needing any further persuasion from Owen and he thanked you with a kiss before leaving you to carry on with your work, now more motivated than before.

The next day Owen went out in the early afternoon claiming that he had a few things to get before your date tonight so you took the chance to clean around the apartment. You had just finished as you heard Owen walk through the door and he greeted you on his way to the kitchen where he put the bags down on the counters before he turned to you with a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. It was only small but you didn’t mind as it contained your favourite flowers.

“You remembered” you gasped, accepting them happily and leaning up to place a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Of course I did, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I forgot?” he chuckled, beginning to unpack the bags as you found a vase out and filled it with water ready to put the flowers in. As you moved round the counter you caught sight of the bottles he had taken out of the bag as you frowned slightly in confusion.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked and he turned to find you watching him closely.

“What? Can’t I spoil my love on date night?”

“You’re ridiculous, I’m going to shower” you laughed as you placed the vase on the side but you couldn’t stop the feeling of love that blossomed in your chest at his words.

Hanging your towel over the rack you reached over to turn the shower on, adjusting the water temperature until it was just right before you stepped in and let the water wash over your skin, washing away the stress of work. While in the shower your mind wandered back to your conversation with Owen the week before were he refused to tell you why he was acting strangely, you were still yet to find out what it was and you were still curious as to what it was. You had even asked Charlie but he claimed he didn’t know what you were on about so that didn’t get you far but you just hoped it would be soon.

Sighing you switched the shower off as you reached for the towel and wrapped the soft material around your body. On your way to the bedroom you heard Owen on the phone, catching the end of his conversation which you assumed was with Charlie.

“Yeah, I picked it up earlier and I’m going to ask her tonight” 

You could practically hear the smile that was on his face as he talked but at least you knew you weren’t going to have to wait long now to find out what he had planned.

As you were drying your hair, Owen came into the room fresh from a shower already dressed ready for your date. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his blue shirt and black jeans and you bit you’re lip when you caught his eyes in the mirror as a smirk played on his lips.

“I’m going to order the food to be delivered in about an hour, do you think you’ll be ready?” he teased.

“Of course” you scoffed in reply as pressed a kiss to your temple before leaving you to get ready and to order food.

As it happened you were just finishing your make up as a knock on the door signalled that your food arrived. Taking a quick look in the mirror on your way out, you smoothed the front of your dress down before making your way to Owen.

He was in the middle of dishing the food up when he hears your footsteps approaching and he lifted his head. Smiling, he took in your appearance and he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips when he saw the fluffy socks on your feet.

“What? Just because we said we were dressing up doesn’t mean that I can’t be comfortable as well” you pouted.

“I know baby but that’s-uh never mind” he said with a shake of his head as he moved the plates of food from the counter to the small dining table before coming over to you. “You look good” he smiled, resting his hands on your waist and kissing you.

“Just good” you teased with a breathless laugh as you pulled back from the kiss, “you don’t look too bad either” you say, smiling at him.

You both sat down to eat after that, talking about whatever came into your minds and laughing and joking just as you always did. Even though you were having fun there was something at the back of your mind telling you that something bug was coming and you didn’t know how right you were until the plates had been cleared away. 

Owen had poured you both a drink while you were clearing the table and when he joined you again it was as if a switch had been flipped, the boy you had been laughing and joking with minutes ago was now very serious and very nervous which had you worried. You tried to ask if he was okay but he spoke first.

“Y/n, we’ve know each other since we were kids and we’ve been dating for two years but every moment I’ve spent with you has been some of the best moments of my life, from your unwavering support to your ridiculous sense of humour that compliments me so well and I want that for the rest of my life. I want you by by my side so I guess what I’m trying to say is” Owen speaks, his eye locked onto yours as reaches into his pocket bringing out a small black velvet box and kneels down in front of you.

“Y/n L/n, Will you marry me?” he asks, opening the box to reveal a beautiful ring. The plain silver band and small white gem in the centre glistens in the light as you stare down at your boyfr-fiancé with tears in your eyes which causes your vision to blur slightly. Blinking the tears away, you feel yourself nodding as you reply.

“Yes Owen, yes” you say with a smile which Owen mirrors as he slides the ring onto your finger, “It’s beautiful” you say, looking closely at the ring as Owen stands to pull you into a hug.

“I love you” you whisper.

“I love you too baby” he replies, pulling away and leading you to the couch where he pulls you in for another hug as you sit in silence, content in each others embrace.

“So this is what you’ve been hiding from me and why you’ve been acting strangely” you ask and he hums in response, “all the phone calls with Charlie”

“Yeah he was helping me with how I was going to ask but then I decided I couldn’t wait any longer for us to do anything big so that’s why tonight was just us”

“And when you locked yourself in the bedroom to make that phone call?” you asked.

“Yeah I uh I called your parents to ask for their blessing” he admits a small smile on his face “and when you caught me on the laptop last week and asked me why I was acting weird, I was actually looking at rings” he confesses, reaching for your left hand to lace your fingers together as he presses a kiss to the back of it waiting for your response.

“You know I knew you were hiding something but I never expected it to be this” you tell him, your gaze still on your intertwined hands as you admired the ring again. You didn’t know if you’d ever get used to it but you were definitely not changing your mind anytime soon as you planned to spend the rest of your life with the him.

---

Taglist: @90ssunsetcurve

[koushisatori]

Anniversary

First of all: If you happen to stumble across this, please cut me some slack and be gentle with me. English is not my mother tongue, and on top of that, I got rusty by procrastinating everything (literally) for the last half-year (*μ_μ) I am apologizing in advance if something is weirdly written.

This is also my first ever piece of fanfiction, so I have to get used to that to :(( So if you got ideas or anything, I’ll gladly try to fulfill your wishes to simultaneously improve my writing.

Hmm, is there anything else? I hope not, and if there is, I’ll add it !! 

tendou x f!reader

genre: small bit of angst, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.7k

note: /

__________________________________________________________

usually, your relationship with Tendou is smooth sailing, both of you decided to take the step of moving in together relatively early, exceeding the common couples limit by not only doing this barely a year into your relationship but doing so in a different country far from your family and friends

(both of you learning french together to survive a new life in an absolutely foreign country...however, the first months of grocery shopping were disastrous ) 

you both became a couple in your last year at Shiratorizawa, surprising absolutely....well,...no one, honestly

every person just seeing a moment of your interactions with each other would have guessed that you already were dating

Tendou and you were the embodiment of being disgustingly in love - like people see you and feel  s i n g l e wanting to have what you two obviously found with the other

(SemiSemi, to this day, shudders violently thinking about how he caught you two making out in the storage room a week after Tendou finally confessed to you <3) 

anyway

while Tendou followed his dream of becoming a chocolatier, you began to study - enter: stress

after finishing his required training he got a job at a high-class factory (everything his handmade and super expensive?? You’re just so lucky to be his better half and get to taste his creations for free)

they value his skills and invest in him to become better, but that also means that his time for you shrank even more

you understood that, of course, and it's not like you didn’t spend a lot of your times crouching over books either with being close to receiving your first degree

in general, your fights are stressed-induced, and as quickly forgotten as they came up bc...let’s not beat around the bush, both of you are shit at staying mad at the other, especially if it means cutting short the already sparse time you currently have <3

they’re usually about petty stuff, too

recently though it happens more regularly and they ever so slowly started to border on painful

he stays at work for longer to perfect his already otherworldly skills; and your patience is running thin with all the deadlines and exams putting immense pressure on you

both of you are just so unsatisfied and stressed and...so fucking tired

it’s always forgivable though

you don’t mind planned dinner dates turning into movie nights with him falling asleep on you after what feels like seconds

because he’s there, pressing his face into your side or stomach hard enough for you to wonder if he’s trying to suffocate himself, while his long arms are around your waist holding onto you as if his life depends on it

he doesn’t mind being splayed across your lap watching the latest episodes of his series while you type away on your laptop, even though you were supposed to enjoy a nice weekend lazying in front of the tv with him 

a forgotten date hasn’t killed you yet as well, but the amount of times it was currently happening allowed insecurities to have their way with you

both of you always make up for it one way or another (leaving an apology breakfast or even taking it to bed, buying flowers, sharing the sweet kisses you were supposed to enjoy the night before,...) 

but this time, he didn’t just forget to be on time for any date.

he completely missed your anniversary

you spend the whole afternoon cooking his favorite dish for dinner, making yourself all pretty for him, wearing the jewelry he got you for your birthday, it was some kind of tradition by now

just to be stood up, dinner turning cold and your mood sour

no message, no callback

around 11pm he - finally ! - gets in touch with you 

‘‘(Y/N)!! Bunny, did something happen? Did you miss me so much?’’

you could hear the dopey grin he was wearing while teasing you, one you usually loved, one that was contagious

but it didn’t help the pain and disappointment nesting in your heart, right now

he really didn’t remember

was the date so insignificant to him? were you no longer a priority?

you swallow around the lump in your throat, desperately begging your brain to not amplify your insecurities even more

‘’No...it’s...it’s alright, I just wanted to know when you’re home...’’ your attempt to keep the doubts and pain you experienced that second hidden was pointless, because even on the phone, your boyfriend was able to look right through you

‘‘Bunny what’s wrong?’’ he asks worriedly

normally you’d say that it was alright, that you’d speak later or directly say what was bugging you so terribly

this time...you didn’t feel like talking or maybe even fighting, scared that he might confirm your thoughts and leave you

‘’It’s nothing, Tendou,...’’ you hear him wince, you can’t remember the last time you called him that ’’don’t bother with me if it’s not as important to you.’’ 

‘‘Not as...’’ a moment of silence follows, in which he checked the date and, lastly, Tendou understood ‘’Oh. Oh shit, (Y/N),...Bunny, please, wait for me, please, let me explain...’‘

It’s not the answer you wanted (on the other hand, what answer would that be?)

‘‘I waited...and I’m tired,’‘ you add without thinking, hanging up before he even got the chance to answer

while you don’t want things to end...you can’t help but think ‘what if?’ - that thought alone though is enough for the dams to burst

With a soft groan, you blink your burning eyes open, noticing your spine protesting and pop from the uncomfortable position you fell asleep in. A glance at the alarm clock elicited another tired groan, the 4 on display mocking you. 

The burning and overall sluggish feeling controlling your body immediately reminded you of the things that had taken place. That his scent surrounding you arose solely due to his pillow in which you had pressed your face.

While you obviously weren’t on the best of terms right now, a small part of you was still hopeful and reached out across the bed in search for the warmth your red-haired better half usually provided. Unsurprisingly, your hand met a cold bed half.

An annoyed sigh later, you sat up and rubbed over your eyes angrily. You were hurt, which should be understandable, but remembering his overly happy tone even with evident tiredness underlaying it, you guessed that he didn’t stay behind on purpose and that, maybe, something good had happened. So to say, you as well behaved like an idiot.

Suddenly, you remember the last sentence you said. Realizing what it implied, you felt like banging your head against the wall. You wanted to be understood by him. What you didn’t want was to give Satori the time to allow his anxious tendencies to fester while he was alone, foregoing untrue, negative ideas. The fact that he still wasn’t in bed with you, was proof enough which lead to you cursing out loud.

While your last words towards him told something differently, you surely didn’t want to leave him or him to leave you. Both of you could work things out, you always did, and…well, you always hoped that it would stay that way until you had lived a fulfilling life as a couple, with grey hair and wrinkles taking your last breath together wherever life would lead the two of you.

The simple solution was to communicate like the grown adults you are. 

Determined to talk through it the way you should have done earlier and maybe...just maybe get some cuddles afterward, you swung your legs out from under the blankets. After you quickly put on some warm, worn-out socks, you quietly leave the bedroom and tip-toe through the hallway.

You expected the apartment to be silent, to be dark. What you didn’t expect is the soft light coming from your shared kitchen. Or the clinking noises of bowls and pots colliding lightly, lowly muttered, sleepy curses, and even quieter sniffles interrupting the barrage of words from time to time.

Upon hearing those little sounds - no doubt coming from your anxious boyfriend - your heart clenched painfully in your chest. This is your injudicious doing. Straightening your back, you stepped into the kitchen, slightly squinting against the much harsher ceiling lights assaulting your eyes.

The original plan was to offer a heartfelt apology, and follow it up by an honest declaration of love and the proposal to talk about everything. There were a lot of things that needed to be cleared up between you and Tendou. But after entering the kitchen, you came to an abrupt halt.

Your eyes wandered, lingering on cuts, burns, and blisters that blemished your boyfriends' pretty fingers. Slowly, your gaze continued to move up his arms and shoulders, tensed and screaming out his fear of losing you. For a moment, you hesitated, but you eventually lifted your gaze to meet his wide eyes, as red-rimmed and puffy as yours. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Normally, you would find it adorable and stretch your hands out to cup his cheeks (not to pull him down, definitely not) and press a kiss to his lips...but right now? You really just felt like crying, seeing your Satori so heartbroken over something you said carelessly in the heat of the moment.

Suddenly wincing, Tendou quickly pulls back his hand to his chest away from the hot stove. Yet, he did not dare to break eye contact with you. Seemingly afraid that what he currently saw is nothing but a sleep-deprivation induced hallucination. That you would just vanish if he so much dared to even think of blinking.

The stupor rooting you to the spot though vanished in favor of closing the gap between the two of you to help him.

‘‘Tori...’‘ you croaked worriedly, eyes flickering down to his hands and back up to his watery, sad eyes. ‘‘I’m so sorry,’’ you whispered. Any louder and your voice might break. ’’...let me take care of you.’‘ 

You turned off the stove before you gently tugged Tendou behind you to the bathroom. Making him sit on the edge of the small tub, you gathered everything you needed to patch him up with rehearsed movements.

For a while, both of you were silent. 

You carefully worked on disinfecting cuts and putting special creams on the different wounds and burns, while not hurting him any further. Concentrating on ignoring the thick tension of untold apologies, and fear. Doubt weighing heavy on the two of you. 

Meanwhile, Tendou couldn't help but admire your features. Your soft hair - faintly smelling like peaches and anis - falling into your face, hiding away your pretty (Y/E/C) eyes. He loved to get lost in them. Or how your tongue poked out between your lips in concentration and the little scrunch of your nose when you thought that you could have done better. 

Even in this hazy state of mind, he knew for certain that he would try to hold onto you for as long as possible. That he would do anything to make you forgive him.

After you finished gently wrapping band-aids (silly ones with colorful patterns just the way you both love) around his fingers, on his palm, and back of his hand, he quickly moved them to hold onto yours.

‘‘Don’t leave me.’‘ Tendou's voice is just above a whisper, and if you wouldn't have been that close to him as you were, you would have missed it. But you could hear him, and your eyes immediately met his, filling with tears all over again.

‘‘Satori, I’m-’‘

‘‘(Y/N), please...please, don’t leave me. I’m so sorry. Of course, I care. Our relationship, you...nothing’s as important to me as you are. It was the only thing keeping me sane that last week. I don't know why I forgot about it. I truly feel horrible.'' he started. ''Please, believe me. I love you so, so much. I...I can’t imagine a life without you. I don’t want to.’’ Even with his voice quivering, it was crystal clear just how serious his words were to him. 

He needed to get it out in the open. There was no way in hell that he would allow any doubts about your relationship to fester in your mind.

‘’I was held back to talk about the upcoming Christmas preparations that I’m supposed to be leading this year, and then I was called into the boss’ office and I couldn’t check my phone,’‘ the desperation to explain still evident, Tendou resorted to rambling about the happenings of the day.

‘‘I’m sorry for hurting you, but Bunny, I beg you...I know that we haven't had enough time those last weeks, that we didn't have any if we’re honest. I understand that you must feel neglected. I will change that, give me a chance to make you forgive me, please.’‘ 

It wasn’t like you wanted to cry again, but the tears rolling down your cheeks seemed to have a mind on their own. ‘’ ‘Tori...’’ you sniffled, your voice breaking away at the last syllable. ‘’Can I hug you?’’  

The relief on his face spoke volumes, and before you even got the chance to make good on your words, he already stands tall in front of you, enveloping you tightly.

Securely wrapped up in Satoris’ arms, you feel like coming home after months away. Or like taking in the first gasp of fresh air after holding your breath underwater for too long. With Tendou holding onto you like this, you found the strength to answer.

''I'm sorry, too...I love you so much, and...I know you always have a reason, and it was childish to hang up on you and leave you worrying alone instead of talking to you. And...if you neglected me those last weeks, then I did the same. We both were too busy for each other...'' 

After a short pause, you ask: ''B-but we can work it out, right?’’ Slowly, you looked up to him. ‘’I want to spend my life with you, Satori. Don’t listen to dumb me 5 hours earlier. 5-hours-ago-me was so stupid, and petty, and does not reflect my true wishes,’’ you added. ’’No one of our old friends wanted to put up with me the last week because I’m so head over heels in love with you and all I do is tell them ‘’You should have seen what Tori did for me’’ and what I plan to do for you...I can feel them roll their eyes from the other side of the world!’’

Suddenly aware of your very honest words, you pushed your face against his chest to hide your burning cheeks. Embarrassment painting them in a pretty hue of pink. 

Tendou hadn't realized that he had actually held his breath listening to your words until he chuckled a bit breathlessly. The remaining tension possessing both of your bodies faded away after that, allowing you to relish in the feeling of having the other in your arms again.

After a while, you bravely gazed up at him again, even with your cheeks still set ablaze. ''Come to bed?'' And with a sweet smile, one that reached his eyes and made your heart stutter, he nodded. 

Things between the two of you weren't ideal quite yet, Tendou kknew that much. But they would be. Tomorrow would be a new day. You would hopefully agree to celebrate your anniversary a day later. He hoped, that you would agree to spend it with him from the first second you woke up to the very last before you fell asleep. You will hopefully enjoy the news that his promotion was topped with holidays that allowed you to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with your families in Japan.

He also hoped for you to say yes when, surrounded by your friends, he would ask you to marry him under the Cherry Blossoms in spring.

Things weren't quite ideal, but watching your peaceful expression while sleeping on his chest, he knew, all the up and downs were worth powering through. He would embrace every hardship if that meant keeping you by his side forever.

[kookoosbunnynose]

Ch.1 || Ch.2

Pairing: Neighbor!Jungkook/FWB!Jungkook x Artist!Reader

Genre: Slowburn, Smut, Angst, Humor

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Cursing | Slutty Jimin, we love him | mentions of emotional abuse | large jungcock | dom!jungkook | dom/sub themes |a singular use of a sir kink | dirty talk, lots | oral (f recieving) | he so gentle uwu, and then he’s very not gentle lmao

Summary: You’re an art student in need of a partner for your new collaboration piece, who is there to help you but your new neighbor, Jeon Jungkook. You two paint together but leave with much more than a colorful canvas.

A/N: Hello! I know! Dumb bitch finally updated the fic lmao. but i’m really excited about this part and even more excited for the rest of the fic. If you haven’t read chapter 1 yet go read it! 

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

Thankfully, even though you didn’t get to bed by the time you wanted last night, after the whole ‘y/n is a dumbass and got locked out’ debacle, you woke up with enough time to take it slow this morning. Mornings like these were your favorite, no rush. Just you sitting at your vanity getting ready for your day, jamming along to whatever song comes on your shuffle, using various items as a makeshift microphone.

You’re in the heat of Colors by Halsey when there’s a knock at your door, you abruptly cut off your poorly tuned melody, feeling caught. You quickly finish the eyebrow you’re working on as you don’t want the person at the door to see you with the one and a half you’re currently sporting. Good enough.

You rush to your front door, careful not to let your fluffy socks make you slip on the linoleum. When you open the door only to be greeted by your fluffy haired neighbor. He looks good in the morning too? Well that’s just fucking peachy. You’re making this difficult Jeon.

“Good morning.” You smile trying to hide how distraught you are.

“Good morning, sorry to bug you” he smiles sheepishly. “I was just hoping I could steal an egg from you? We’re out.” He asks hopeful.

“Oh, yeah of course. Just a second.” You turn on your heels to grab an egg from the kitchen. When your face is hidden by the fridge door you take a second to take a deep breath before making your way back to him. “Just one?” You ask when you hand it to him.

“Yeah one’s good, thank you y/n.” He gives you a small bow and opens his door. “See you later.”

---

“Hello gorgeous.” Yoongi says as your trio approaches the counter.

“Morning handsome.” Jimin smirks and steps in front of you.

“I was talking to y/n.”

“Her?” He looks over his shoulder at you. “While I’m here? That doesn’t sound right.” He scrunches his nose as if he’s doing mental math.

“I’ll just get your usual started.” He says leaning to the side so he can see your face.

“Thank you.” You laugh at them swipe your card and take the blueberry muffin he slides your way. You step to the side and wait for your boys to order their drinks.

“Remind me why we still come here.” Joon asks the two of you as you make your way to the pick-up end of the counter.

“Because we’ve been doing it since we started uni. We’re old and stuck in our ways, Joonie. There’s no backing out now.” You reply woefully.

“What are we? Boomers? We can go to a different coffee shop.” Namjoon furrows his brows.

“Order for Sweets!” A now familiar boxy smiled boy behind the counter says.

“Oh no we can’t. Not anymore.” Jimin says his attention caught by Tae.

“Look who wants to fuck the neighbors now!” You whisper yell at them before stepping toward the counter.

“Ha! You admit it!- Wait, neighbor?” You hear Jimin behind you.

“Hi Tae! Thank you.”

“Hello y/n!” He smiles and leans in to make his voice hushed. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Yoongi a thing? He covers like half your bill and calls you pet names everyday.” He lists off the, admittedly odd, circumstances of your relationship. 

“Oh, no we’re not. We just flirt back and forth. I think if he had any real intention behind it he would’ve asked me out by now, in my experience he’s pretty straight forward.” You chuckle.

“Ah okay. Would you want him to ask you out?”

“I did in the beginning but it’s been well over a year. As far as he goes, I’m sated with just the flirting.” 

“Ah, I see.” He turns away to grab the next two cups. “Orders for Jimin and Namjoon!” He calls over.

“Why do you ask?”

He pauses for a second. “I was just curious, he’s kinda like that with a couple girls but you seem to be his favorite.”

“Well it’s been a while, seniority I guess.” You shrug and your counterparts join you at the counter. “Oh how rude of me, these are my roommates. This is Taehyung.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, I’ll probably be seeing you guys a lot. I’m across the hall pretty often.” You all chuckle. “I wish I could talk longer but I don’t want to hold up the line, see you!” He smiles. 

The three of you give various forms of a goodbye as you leave to find your usual table. 

“Okay, is no one gonna say it?” Jimin says once you’re seated and safely out of ear shot.

“Say what?” Namjoon asks scrunching his face at his hot coffee.

“What do you mean ‘say what?’” Jimin says blinking slowly at your brother. “What is in those boys’ cheerios?” 

“Fiber?”

“No! You fucking tree!” 

“Y/n really? Now he’s calling me that, too?” You shrug.

---

You take a breath in as you walk into the art studio, the smell of paint and pencil lead tickling your nose. You take your usual seat at a large table and check your phone for your list of assignments. The professor sends you a large list of all the assignments at the beginning of the semester. Giving students the freedom to choose what order they do them in, the only stipulation is that you must have half turned in by midterms and the other half by the end of the semester. A much more doable lesson plan than a lot of your past professors. Being forced to be creative is draining and doesn’t get you far.

You scan down the list of possibilities until you find one that catches your eye. Monochromatic self portrait (any color)? No. Pretend you have synesthesia and illustrate your favorite song? Eh, not today. Collaboration piece? Ugh, I can’t even if I wanted to. I need to find someone to work with. Create 5 random custom colors and paint a landscape using only those colors (5”x5”)? Sounds like I could get that done before I leave. Perfect.

You pop in your earbuds and get to work. Deciding acrylic would be best for a quick painting, you grab a pallet and a sizable glob of each of the primary colors along with black and white. A little red here, a little yellow there, and some white for this one. You continue putting in different combinations until you have five colors you’re happy with not worrying if they’ll make sense for scenery. Fuck it. Who says trees can’t be purple? 

As you dip your brush into your small selection of paints and watch the way the colors glide onto the canvas, it makes a sense of ease wash over you. Breathing life into a piece no matter how simple creates a new little reality in it’s own right. Expands our universe one brush stroke at a time. In the least cringy art kid way possible, of course.

You continue your work, mouthing along to your music as you go. Rust tinted grass and a peachy sky coming together in a way that definitely isn’t realism but ends up having a sunset feel due to the warm hues you chose. Just a few touch ups here and there and you’re done.

You pack up your things and head home with your new little creation to dry completely overnight. It’s already mostly dry but the textured parts still have a way to go. 

---

  “I really need to go grocery shopping. Thank you again, y/n.” Bunny teeth shining as he leaves your apartment with a mug of tea in place of the hot water he showed up with.

Today is day… eight? Of a new routine has developed over the course of the week. Everyday without fail, whether it be morning or evening, an egg or a cup of milk. Jungkook comes over and asks for a small food item, thanks you, and returns home. No big deal, but it’s apparent that those idiots really need to restock their fridge. It’s like having a stray cat that comes around every night after you feed it once. A really big stray cat… with pretty hair, and a cute lip mole, that always smells like fresh laundry and citrus… anyway-

Time to officially start the day and pretend that little mental tangent didn’t just happen. Go team!

You finish doing some light makeup and throw on some ripped mom jeans and a black hoodie. Enough effort to look like you care, but still comfy. You throw your bag over your shoulder, slip your boots on and head out the door.

Finding parking on campus at this time of day is a nightmare and usually takes longer than just walking since you live just off school grounds. So you make your short walk and stop by the cafe by yourself. You usually go alone only once a week; there’s only one day where you’re the only one of your roomies to have a morning class. 

You order, give Tae his morning hello and make your way to class. 

Classes pass with relative ease. You listen and take notes; taking notes more so meaning doodling along the margins of your notebook than anything else. Really putting those scholarships to good use. 

Art history, meeting with the theater department about painting props, studio, home. 

You enter your apartment and are met with Jimin and Namjoon sitting on the couch about to start the obligatory bi-monthy screening of Your Name. 

“Hey! Were you gonna start the movie without me?” You kick off your shoes and take a running leap onto your spot on the couch.

“No! We were waiting for you, we’re not monsters.” Namjoon retorts in defense.

“That’s exactly what someone who wasn’t waiting for me would say.” You narrow your eyes at your little brother at the other end of the couch.

“Would you two stop bickering for two seconds. It’s starting.” Jimin puts a hand over both your mouths from his spot between you.

“Sheesh, grumpy pants.” You grumble when he lowers his arms.

The movie is filled with the same sobs and ‘awe’s that it always is, always ending in tears for at least one of you. Breathtaking animation coupled with a heart wrenching story, no matter how many times you watch it, it never fails to amaze. As much as you would’ve loved more closure at the end of the movie, the ambiguous ending couldn’t be more poetic. 

“Joonie, what would you do if we switched bodies?” You turn to your brother as the credits roll.

“Probably get a discounted coffee.” He deadpans.

“Oh, you’re no fun!”

“More money in my bank account sounds very fun.” 

Your retort cut off by a knock at the door from your neighbor for his daily snack, so you settle for throwing the pillow sitting in your lap in his direction as you stand. Which he tries to swat away only to end up with a faceful of cushion. Ha, get got bitch.

“Do you need an egg?” You say as you open the door.

“Uh- No I’m good? Thank you for asking.” Tae chuckles, you freeze your eyes widening.

“Oh my god, I thought you were Jungkook.” You let out a stiff laugh and shuffle your feet in embarrassment. “Anyway, what brings you all this way?” You joke, attempting to alleviate a bit of the blush on your cheeks.

“I just wanted to see if you’d wanna chill with us tonight? We had a lot of fun last time. Nothing special, but I wanted to see if you were up for it.” He smiles. “You guys are more than welcome to join too if you’d like!” He shouts over your shoulder at the boys sitting on the couch when he notices them sitting there.

“Nah we’re good Jimin and I have a test in the morning, and if I don’t force him to study with me he’ll fail.” Namjoon says from the couch

“I would not!” Jimin turns to him offended.

“Okay, I’ll study alone then.”

“No, please help me.” He deflates.

“See.” Joon smirks. “Thank you for the offer though!” He calls over to Tae.

“No problem, next time?”

“Next time.” He echoes.

“I’ll hold you to it.” He points a slender finger in your brother’s direction. “What about you, y/n? Are you down?” He directs his attention back to you.

“Right now?”

“If that works for you, Kook will be back from work shortly, it’ll just be Hobi and I for a little bit.” 

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” You smile. “Just let me go grab a couple things real quick and then I’m good to go!”

You scurry to your bedroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror, evaluating the damage the day has done to your makeup. Not bad. You give the apples of your cheeks a quick squeeze to bring back a little color, scramble to find your tinted lip balm, and fluff up your hair a little. There we go. Cute. Now to find something to bring with me so this little panicked face check isn’t a complete lie. Phone charger is good.

With your phone charger in hand and a revived complexion you head back out. 

“Thanks for waiting.” Tae gives you a nod and you smile while you give your boys a wave as you walk out the door.

You walk into the boys apartment and are immediately greeted by a wagging Bread who you kneel to give a plethora of loves, giggling when he hops up and tries to kiss your face.

“Hey y/n!”

“Hey Hobi!” You say as you follow Tae over to the couch with Bread right on your heels. 

“Glad you decided to join us. Kook will be here soon, he left work not long ago.” 

“I gave her the run down before we came over.” Tae smiles.

“How have classes and shit been?” You ask them

“Not ideal. I pulled a muscle in my leg.” Hobi rubs his calf. “With a big performance coming up on friday, but the show must go on, you know.” He shrugs.

“Oh shit dude, will you be okay?”

“He does this at least once a semester.” Tae says waving it off, used to his friend pushing through his injuries. 

“Yeah, it sucks for a bit but I’ll have some wiggle room to rest after this test.” He reassures.

“Okay good, just don’t die.” You chuckle.

“I’ll try not to.” He laughs.

“I’ve been doing a few surveys for my psych classes, would you mind if I get some data from you?” Tae looks to you, taking full advantage of the small lull in conversation.

“Tae no.” Hobi’s face falls and he rubs his temples.

“Do you find Chuck E. Cheese fuckable?” He asks, a genuine question mark in his eyes.

You blink. “What the hell kind of psych classes are you taking?”

“Just answer the question, y/n.”

You look at Hobi for some sort of answer, though you’re not even sure what your question is. “You’re gonna have to just answer him, he’s been on about it all day.” 

“Fucking of course not. Why on earth would I want to fuck a rat? And even if I did, why would I want to fuck a robotic rat roughly the size of an entire kindergarden class?” 

“First of all, he’s a mouse.” Tae corrects. “Second of all, THANK YOU!” He throws his arms up and flops against the back of the couch. “One kid in my class started this somehow and the room was surprising split. About forty percent of the people in that room said ‘Charles Entertainment Cheese’ was sexy! It got pretty heated, people were yelling that the opposing side that we ‘just couldn't handle his raw sexual power.’” He says exasperated with overdone air quotes. “So I’ve been asking everyone all day because I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I suppose I can see how that would plague your mind.” You laugh.

“Anyway!” Hobi interjects, clearly tired of the subject. “How are your things going, y/n?” 

You chuckle at his wide eyes. “They’ve been good. I’ve been spending more time in the studio with midterms coming up. But I need to find someone to work with me on a collab piece. I wanna have it in by midterms so I don’t have to worry about it during finals.” you sigh at the thought. 

“Awh, I would help with that but I already did that assignment and I’m not sure if they’d let me do it again with someone else?” Tae says with a small frown.

“I’d offer but the only thing I am versed in is drawing stick figures and arguably anatomically incorrect dicks.” Hobi chuckles.

“Thanks you guys.” You smile. “It’s alright though, I might just ask Jimin to get drunk and throw some paint at a canvas with me.”

“Hey! This reminds me, a couple days ago when you got coffee you promised you’d show me some of your work when we hung out next.” Tae looks at you sternly, arms tight across his chest. “The time has come Miss y/n.” 

“Ah, I suppose I did.” You say as you grab your phone to show him your album of a bunch of your work. “Okay, but I’m no Van Gogh. Go easy on me.” You warn before you hand over your device to him; you always get a little nervous when you show people your art for the first time.

“Hey hey! None of that nonsense! If the way you talk about art is any consolation, then I’m sure the passion alone is enough to make it beautiful.” Tae gives you a stern look followed by a reassuring smile.

“Do you want me to cry? Because this is how you make me cry.” You chuckle and relent your collection of work over to him for them to inspect. 

They open the first photo and you’re met with a mixture of a ‘holy shit’ from Hobi and a ‘wow’ from Tae, their reactions make you smile and your face heat up. 

“These are amazing y/n!” Hobi says as Tae swipes through.

“Thank you guys so much, really.” You say blushing and all but clutching your chest.

You watch their faces intently as they go through, Tae stopping every so often to zoom in and inspect a certain brushstroke that catches his eye. They get toward the end of the photoset when you hear a key in the front door. You’re the only one to turn your head to see Jungkook walk into the apartment. He sets his keys down on the table next to the entrance and his feet stutter a little when he sees you on the couch with his friends. 

“Hey Kook! Y/n was just showing us some of her art, dude she’s so talented!” Hobi calls over his shoulder.

“It’s really good, you should come take a look.” Tae adds, and you laugh nervously.

“That’s so awesome, I will.” He says looking at you with a smile. “I just need to talk to Tae, for a quick second.” He says turning his gaze toward him and tilting his head toward the hall. 

“Oh, is it about that thing?” Tae grits his teeth and sucks in sharp breath.

“Yes, exactly, the thing.” He confirms vaguely, looking relieved.

“Is everything okay?” You furrow your brows and look at each of them.

“He just has a rash, no worries.” Tae tells you in a hushed tone as he stands up. All you can do is blink in response. Jungkook lets out an exaggerated laugh as they disappear into the dark hallway and out of sight.

Once they are safely in the other room Jungkook flicks Tae in the forehead. 

“Ow!” Tae gasps.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Jungkook whisper yells at his idiot of a best friend.

“I was covering for you!”

“You could’ve said literally anything else! I don’t even have a rash!”

“She doesn’t know that!”

“Exactly, you fuck!” Jungkook whispers flicking him again. “Why is she here?! You didn’t warn me!”

“This is what I get for trying to help you?” Tae says rubbing his forehead with a pout.

“Hey! I was handling it just fine on my own!”

“Oh yeah, your plan to slowly raid the entire contents of her fridge was going so great!”

“I just thought!... I thought we would eventually talk or... something?” Jungkook says realizing maybe it wasn’t the best plan in the world. “That’s how my parents used to get to know our neighbors, they’d borrow each others sugar and shit.”

“It’d be easier to talk to her if you just hung out with her and I invited her over for you. You’re welcome! And your parents weren’t trying to fuck your neighbors, were they! Different goal calls for different strategy.” 

“Dude gross, I hope not.” Jungkook scrunches his nose. “And I don’t… just wanna fuck her.”

“Aww, does Googie have a bigger crush than we thought he did.” Tae teases pinching his cheek.

“Fuck you. But thanks I guess… just warn me next time, will you?” Jungkook relents.

“You got it.” Tae says patting him on the shoulder. “I’m only kinda sorry though!” He whispers as he slips out the door. Jungkook follows him to join all of you in the living room.

“Sorry about that.” Jungkook smiles at you as he and Tae take their places next to you on the couch. 

“No worries.” You assure.

“Kook you should take a look at her work, I think you’d like it.” Hobi says passing your phone over to him and your face heats up a little. “I was just telling y/n how you were really artsy in high school.” 

“Oh, it was nothing.” Jungkook waves him off as he starts to look through the photos and stopping a little longer on ones that catch his eye. 

“It wasn’t nothing.” Tae interjects. “Actually y/n, you mentioned needing a partner for that collab piece? Since I can’t assist, I’m sure Jungkook could help you out.” Tae gestures to the two of you.

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask him to do that for me.” You shake your head, looking at both their faces.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side for a second. “I wouldn’t mind at all, it would be fun. I might be a little rusty though.” He says with worried eyes.

“Really? you wouldn’t mind?” You light up. “That would help me out a ton. I’ve been stressing over that piece for weeks.”

“I’d be happy to.” He smiles bright. “I’m off on Saturday, we could work on it then. If that works for you, of course.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” You reach out to shake his hand, effectively sealing the deal. “Thank you so much.” you say and squeeze his hand a little.

“So Kook, I’m collecting data for my psych class-” Tae takes this opportunity to stain your moment of gratitude.

“I already told you, I’m not fuckin’ rats!” Jungkook cuts him off.

“He’s not a rat!”

“Which side are you on?!”

---

“Did I call it? Or did I call it?” Jin looks at you with his stupid smug ass face.

“Listen! It’s nothing!” You throw that damp rag you’re wiping down a table with in his direction.

“It’s not nothing! I can smell your pent up sexual frustration for him from here. You guys are gonna be alone for several hours making art together? What is he, Swayze?”

“Men and women can be platonic friends! You’re not thinking very progressively here, old man.”

“Of course, men and women can be platonic friends.” He says gesturing at the air between you. “But you and what’s his fuck, Junglebook, you said? You two, cannot.” 

“Your lack of faith in me is astounding.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a lack of faith in you, more of an educated assumption… And a lack of faith in both of you.” He smirks. Asshole.

“Fuck you.” You deadpan.

“You know you love me y/nie.” He blows you a kiss.

“You’re lucky I do.”

---

You: I can bring the supplies over whenever you’re ready, just lemme know! Thank you for letting me come over there, it would be hard for creative juices flowing with Joon hovering over us all night. Trying to figure out a deep psychological reason for me painting a flower yellow lmao

You: Oh! And wear clothes you don’t mind getting paint on, stains are inevitable :)

And send. 

Okay listen to me you dumb bitch. You can do this. We got this. For fuck sake why are you so nervous? Pull yourself together! Just enough to prove Jin and Jimin wrong. Do it just to rub it in their faces! Fuck. What are you 12? We can hang out alone with him. This is stupid. I’m stupid. It’s fine. Everything is fine! Shut up.

Tight Buns McCute-Dog: You can come over now, I’m just gonna change real quick, the door is unlocked! (: 

After receiving that reply, instead of him just cancelling, you were relieved he was still willing to help you. However it didn’t help the whole sweating from your ass cheeks with nerves, thing. So overall about the same. Great. 

Doing an abstract painting in these mental conditions will result in accidentally painting several phallic shapes. A Freudian Slip of the wrist if you will. 

After a couple deep breaths, effectively shoving half your feelings deep into the crevices of your mind, and changing his contact name, just for good measure. You grab all the supplies you’ll need and walk across the hall. 

You struggle to open your door while balancing your small box of acrylics, easel and canvas in your arms. Deciding to abandon your easel in the hall for a second while you knock on your neighbor’s door a couple times before you turn the knob. 

Bread is already eager and yipping at you for attention while you attempt to bring everything in and set it up to the side of the living room adjacent to the kitchen. 

---

Jungkook opens your texts and mouths a small ‘oh shit’ not wanting to keep you waiting, but quickly regretting his decision to work out right before he saw you. He wanted to look a little extra muscley but didn’t consider that he’d be a sweaty mess after doing so. 

He settles for telling you he’s changing and hopes you take a few minutes to gather your things so he can blow dry his hair a little. 

Your presence in his apartment is made known when he hears his dog barking and scuttling around. He gives his hair a quick tousel, throws on one of his many black hoodies and a little spritz of cologne. 

Jungkook emerges from his bedroom to find you fumbling with your easel. Cute. 

“Do you need help?” he asks through a giggle.

“Nope! Got everything a hundred percent under control over here.” Your sentence punctuated by your canvas falling to the floor. “Shit.”

“Allow me.” he says handing you the canvas.

“Thank you.” you breath and run a hand through your hair. 

“So what’s the plan? I hope you’re not expecting any Sistine Chapel level work from me.” he chuckles.

“A bunch of naked babies and a priest with the ears of an ass? I appreciate that you don’t bring that to the table.” you raise your brows. 

“Point taken.” 

“The plan is no plan. I mean I wanted to go for something abstract because it’s fun and doesn’t require a lot of brain power. Just put the brush where you think it should go.” you mime a couple brush strokes in the air.

“Sounds easy enough, paint from the heart.” he confirms, patting his chest for emphasis. 

“Oh, I did think one of us could be in charge of warm colors and tints, and the other could do cool colors and shades, and see where that takes us.” you look up expectantly, hoping he likes your almost-plan.

“Sounds interesting.” He looks at the empty canvas, eyes scanning for possibilities. “Which do you want?” 

“I’m partial to cool colors, myself.” 

“Then today, I’m partial to warm.” he smirks. “So are we just feeling what we feel in the moment or is there an emotion we’re trying to convey?” He turns to you, eyes expectant. 

You pause for a second, unsure if you should abandon the theme you were pondering for this piece before you knew Jungkook would be your partner in creation. “Is it too cliche if the theme was ‘love’?” You ask him hesitantly. Immediately regretting not just saying ‘nah man, just throw paint at that bitch.’ 

But much to your surprise. 

“Not at all, it’s a ‘cliche’ for a reason.” He states nonchalantly. “Love is powerful. Whether it’s the painful bit or the part that makes you feel untouchable.” 

A certain fondness hits his eyes that tells you he’s speaking from experience but you don’t pry.

“I’m glad you like the idea.” you smile, relief filling you after he doesn’t exhibit any signs of being uncomfortable. 

He claps his large palms together. “Shall we get started, Miss y/n?” His gaze once directed at the blank canvas, now fully on you. 

“Choose your weapon, Mr. Jungkook.” You feign a serious tone, giving him a small handful of various brushes. Keeping a few of your favorites for yourself. 

You push your box paints toward him indicating he can grab what he likes. Normally you’re a bit protective over your art supplies, seeing as not only are they stupid expensive, but you care for your tools a lot. You wouldn’t let your klutzy brother within a ten foot radius of your things when you were growing up and even now your blood boils if he’s anywhere near your expertly sorted colored pencils. But Jungkook is always gentle and seeing the way he meticulously places small globs of white, reds, and yellows onto his palette, you know you’ve made a good choice in trusting him. 

He steps slightly back letting you put the first ceremonial brush stroke of charcoal black diagonally across the upper most half of your canvas. He joins shortly after deciding to start with white in contrast with your black, laying down some bases for shapes and choosing to run his brush through to disturb the various lines you’ve made, dragging the two tones into a fading grey. 

As your mind wanders towards the way his slender tattooed fingers wrap delicately around the paint brush you quickly come to the conclusion that it’s time to play some background music. Absentmindedly sticking the handle of the brush between your teeth to grab your phone and open your music library.

“What kind of music do you like?” You turn to him, the thin strip of wood in your mouth giving you a slight lisp. 

“I’m not picky, play whatever you want.” he says warmly but his brow still furrowed with concentration while he finishes up his base layer. 

As his answer didn’t do much in the way of helping your quest, you opted for the safety of one of those throwback playlists spotify procures for their listeners, the 90’s one to be exact. Everybody loves some good nostalgia, and it may aid in the sincerity of your painting. Past emotions and whatnot. 

The first song that comes on after you hit shuffle is Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana and you hum in content. Jungkook on the other hand is pleasantly taken aback by your song choice. 

“Oh shit yeah! I love Nirvana!” He smiles brightly, taking his crinkling eyes off his work for the first time since you started. 

“Everybody loves Nirvana.” you tease him and roll your eyes at the possibility of him being one of those frat boys that ‘misses Kurt Cobain so much’ but can only name Smells Like Teen Spirit and maybe Aneurysm if you’re lucky. 

Jungkook, sensing your tone, smirks and runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “You think so, huh?” he bemuses, rolling up his sleeve to uncover this inked skin. Across his forearm is a quote reading ‘rather be dead than cool,’ a lyric from their song Stay Away. He watches you with a quirked brow.

“I stand corrected.” you hold your hands up in defense. Trying not to let the way his inked skin hugs his veins increases your heart rate become too apparent on your features. “You do indeed love Nirvana.” your emphasis on the word being placed differently this time.

“Never doubt me again y/n.” He eyes you suspiciously. “I’ll get more tattoos just to spite you.” He narrows his eyes to add validity to his semi-empty threat.

“I will never doubt you again, scouts honor.” you say playfully saluting him. 

“Now start the song over. Your lack of faith in me, made me miss half the song.” he points a finger at your phone.

“I can’t, I don’t have premium.” you let out a heavy sigh.

“What?! That’s dumb. You suffer through those god awful ads?” He screws his face up in disgust. 

“Eh, I don’t mind too much.” You shrug. “I don’t wanna spend the extra money every month.” 

“Okay, I guess that’s fair.” He squints at you as you pick up your brush again. “Why don’t you just use my account? I’ll text you my login.” He says fishing for his phone in his pocket. 

“That’s completely unnecessary.” You laugh, and wave for him to stop. “You’re already helping me out so much with this.” you gesture to the now less blank canvas in front of you.

“I really don’t mind. What’s the worst that could happen? We expand our music libraries? Oh no!” he pretends to gasp and you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’ll sleep better at night knowing I saved a soul from those creepy ass vitamin water commercials.” He chuckles.

“You really don’t have to.” Your eyes softening at his seemingly endless stream of kindness. 

“Already sent you the login, too late.” he says, sucking in a breath as if to say ‘what a shame.’

“Thank you, Jungkook.” you say as you gently grab his forearm and run your thumb over it.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “Back to work now!” he declares, sticking his paint brush, that at some point in your conversation tucked it’s way behind his ear, into his small mountain of yellow. 

You work like this together for a while. Humming along to your music, that is now playing off Jungkook’s phone after he insisted he didn’t wanna hear ‘Colonel Suck-My-Ass’ sing about his chicken deals one more time. The two of you working together seamlessly; the way you blend your colors and make textures complimenting each other nicely. Switching sides of the canvas every so often so it remains balanced. 

After about an hour of being immersed in your work Jungkook turns to you. “Noodle break?” He asks you frowning at his empty tummy.

Your brush stutters on the canvas at his words, your stomach not realizing it’s been hours since you’ve eaten until he mentions food. “That sounds wonderful, actually.” 

“One or two packets?” he asks making his way into the kitchen.

“Just one is good.” you smile, setting your brush into your cup of water. You follow him into the kitchen. “Where do you store your liquid?” you ask standing between the pantry and the fridge, looking lost.

“Fridge.” he answers giving his approval to let you grab the two of you some drinks.

“I see you guys finally went grocery shopping.” you chuckle at the butter and cartons of eggs in his fridge.

“What?- oh right, yeah. Finally dragged Hobi out earlier today.” His smile not quite meeting his eyes while he opens up three packets of ramen, and waits for the water to boil. 

“Can I steal a soda?” 

“Yeah, just not the sprite. Hobi can and will throw a fit.” his tone far more serious than the situation calls for.

“Well damn, okay.” you say and grab a coke for both of you. 

“Thank you.” He smiles and your fingertips brush perhaps a little too long when you hand him his drink. 

He pulls the tab, puts the cold metal to his lips and you watch the way his throat bobs up and down with every swig. When you feel yourself staring your ears heat up, and turn your gaze to the water starting to roll in the pot. 

As Jungkook is finishing up cooking the ramen, the song changes to Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, you let out a small gasp and start to sing along. He smiles at your apparent love for the song and starts to harmonize with you to encourage you to keep going. Which, much to his dismay, did the exact opposite.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you scold. “I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice!” 

“It’s alright, I guess.” He breathes out and rubs the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “You’re not too bad yourself.” He looks at you with those big doe eyes. And you swear you’ll only look at them for a couple more seconds, as not to fall under their spell. A half hearted oath at best. 

But you start to sing again, you tell yourself it’s to make the most of the song while it’s on but really, you just want to hear honeyed voice hit your ears again. And it does, eyes closed tightly and mouth wide to control his sound. You can’t hold a tune to save your life but the way he carries your sounds with his, it doesn’t matter. Your song is beautiful.

After your musical interruption, you take your bowls to the table and slurp away at your noodles. All the while Bread is at your heels begging ever so sweetly, which Jungkook scolds but ultimately ends up throwing him a noodle when his bowl is just about gone. 

You take your bowl to the sink but when you start rinsing Jungkook comes over to push you out of the way so he can take care of it himself. You stand your ground for a minute but lose the silent argument due to his advantage of stature. You mutter a small ‘fuck you’ before you return to the canvas, and he smiles contently to himself.

Jungkook joins you back at your station, stepping back for a moment to assess where the two of you left off and what he’d like to add. He lets his eyes run over the varying sized lines and the way they come together but also fight one another in some spots. Some colors as bright as the sun and others look like the depths of the ocean. All coming together in a way that only really makes sense to the two of you. 

You finished what was left of your drink and picked up your brush, dipping straight into your black paint for the second time since you started like you were on a mission. You drew a fluid line near the center curving over a few existing splotches, near the end of your brush stroke it became jagged and split off into several directions. A pessimist would call it a shatter, an optimist would call it several opportune paths, and a realist would probably just call it a painting. But Jungkook did none of those things.

“Y/n, have you ever been in love?” He asked as if he had only asked what time it was. He started swirling some colors together while he waited for an answer.

You blinked, trying not to show how much that question shocked you. “I suppose…” you breathed, actually struggling to come up with a real answer. “I mean, last time I was in a serious relationship was in highschool.” You trailed off. “I don’t know if I can say I’ve been in love but I’ve loved someone before… I feel like being in love sticks with you in a different way. More of a life experience than a life lesson.” You scrunched up your face a little, hoping he’d be satisfied with your answer even though you yourself weren’t.

He nodded, taking in your words. “I think being in love can be just as much a life lesson as ‘lesser relationships,’ if not more so.” He adds putting air quotes as not to come across the wrong way. “But hopefully you end up with more positive lessons than not.”  

“Yeah, you’re right. Like learning how you love and need to be loved. What you deserve and what you won’t put up with. Learn to let yourself be loved-” You stop your word vomit after that last comment, feeling a bit vulnerable. “Those kinds of things?” you let out a little laugh.

“Exactly.”

“Is it fair to assume that you have?” You question, hesitating slightly.

“That I have what?” 

“Been in love, dummy.” You laugh, strategically placing a light green around the canvas.

He pauses slightly. “Yeah, I have.” The same fondness that found his eyes earlier that day sets in again. Not in a painful or bitter way, you noted. But in the way you’d regard your favorite childhood memory.

“I didn’t rub salt in a wound, did I?” you tensed slightly incase you read him wrong.

“No no, you’re fine!” He reassures. “It was a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, it hurt like a bitch in the moment, but as they say, time heals all wounds.” he shrugs.

“Can I ask what happened?” You prompted, feeling a little braver this time.

“Well you know, same old story with high school sweethearts.” He paused to fix a spot he didn’t like. “She was a year older than me. She left for university. We tried long distance and after a few months we decided it was too hard. Nothing particularly spectacular.” He tells the story, for what you can tell is at least the thousandth time. “What about you and Mr. Not-Quite-In-Love?”

“Nothing, super special either. Unfortunately, the lessons I learned from him were less than positive. After the initial honeymoon phase, he didn’t treat me the best. Looking back I learned to know the level of respect I deserve, but in the moment his lack of just made me desperate to ‘earn’ it. It was a vicious cycle for about a year but things ended and I grew up. And like you said, ‘time heals all wounds.’” Jungkook looked at you with furrowed brows, not sure if he wants to hug you or the seventeen year old girl you used to be who would see herself as anything less than what she was. But he settled for the former.

He wrapped his arms around you, taking you by surprise. But you accept his embrace and smile against his shoulder. “I’m okay now Jungkook.” You giggle. “It was a long time ago and I learned from it.”

He pulls away. “I know, I’m just sorry it took that dickbag for you to know your worth.” he gives you a sheepish smile, and a fire in his eyes dulls when he looks at you.  

“Thank you, you’re very sweet.” you pat his arm before you both turn back to your respective parts of the canvas. 

“Hey, just cause I’m not a complete asshole, doesn’t mean I’m sweet.”

“I’m holding firm at you’re sweet, and you can’t change my mind.” You both laugh and return your full attention back to your work.

Your rhythm returns to where it was before you ate. Both of you humming along to whatever song is playing at the moment, using your paint brushes as microphones if a particularly good song came on. Exchanging a few words here and there. Each admiring the small things the other chooses to add to the work of art. You noticed Jungkook has a habit of biting his lips when he’s concentrating. Cute. 

Now here you finally are after another hour of blending, layering, and tweaking. Both of you put down your brushes down and stepped back slightly to admire what you’ve created. Letting out a sigh at your hard work, taking in the finalized piece. The way the colors run together or bump into one another. The juxtaposition of fluid lines being interrupted by jagged edges. The way the soberness of the colors you put down calm and soothe the firey and vibrant ones he laid down for you.

Ordinarily, when you finish a painting, you never quite feel done. There’s always one more thing you could fix, one more stroke you could add. But not this time. It’s finished. Breathtaking in a simple way. You’ve never felt such a sense of completeness when you set your brush down, and you can’t help but feel you have Jungkook to thank for it. The way his colors and brush work complemented yours was… for lack of a better term, a work of art. 

---

Jungkook puts down his brush, watching you lay down your final touches. Truth be told he’d been watching you out of the corner of his eye the entire time. Checking in on you every so often when you’d put down your tool and furrow your brows in concentration. Smiling when you’d absentmindedly mumble to yourself about what you’re doing. He was in awe of how much of yourself you put down on the canvas, not entirely sure what wordless stories you were telling meant. Though that didn’t stop him from taking the puzzle pieces you laid down and arranging them into a y/n shaped jigsaw in his mind. Perhaps your fondness of calming colors was to tame the wild fire he could see within you. 

And just as quickly as you’d started, you were done, setting your brush down and smiling at what you saw in front of you. 

“Thank you so much, Jungkook.” You breathe still taking in the painting. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Yeah, it is.” He says just above a whisper, never taking his eyes off your beaming profile. 

“Hm?” You turn to him. He looks into your eyes, once filled with fire are now a calm ocean. His gaze shifts to your lips after they form a confused pout at his silence, his body leading his brain when he leans toward you.

It’s now or never.

He leans in further looking into your eyes for any sign of apprehension before he cups your jaw in his paint stained hand. Finally taking the leap all at once when you lean into his touch. 

His lips are even softer than you imagined when they meld against yours. He pulls away slightly to look at you a question mark across his features. You put your hands flush against his hard chest and answer his question by reconnecting your lips with his with fervor and you feel him smile against you. He deepens the kiss, putting his free hand on your hip to pull you closer to his warm body. 

He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, testing the waters further. You mirror his action, noting that his lips taste faintly of strawberries. You slide your hands into his soft hair and curl your fingers into fists against his scalp making him groan into your mouth. 

His hand that held its feather like touch against your face leaves it’s place to join his other around your waist. His hands squeezing harshly at your hips, his fingers digging into the strip of skin your shirt rode up to expose, making you shiver against him despite your rising temperature. 

He pulls away to place sloppy kisses along your jaw, nudging your jaw with his nose gently to gain access to your neck. You suck in a breath when you pull him closer causing his teeth to graze your pulse point as his swollen lips leave rosey marks in their wake. He sucks harshly at the soft spot below your ear causing your nerves to flare and a moan to escape your lips. He groans in satisfaction at the way his actions affect you, running his hot tongue over your skin to soothe the marks he made. 

His hands move higher on your abdomen slipping just under the hem of your shirt, making you tense slightly under his calloused palms, he feels your shift and rubs his thumbs below your ribcage to relax your tensed muscles. His gentle fingers vastly opposing his flushed cheeks when he brings his face up to yours again, his hair already messy and his eyes dazed as he looks at your lips like they’re the first glass of water he’s seen in days. He crashes his lips back into yours hungrily causing you to squeak at his desperation. You disconnect your lips leaving almost no distance between you.

“Bedroom?” you ask lowley against his lips, your vocal chords betraying you making the word come out far more shaky and less sexy than you wanted. His shoulders flex under your hands at his request.

Jungkook slides his hands down your ass to squeeze the flesh in his hands when his finger tips graze the back of your thighs. 

“Up.” he says firmly, offering you free transport to his bed. You hop up, his strong arms hold you and you wrap your legs tightly around his narrow waist. He starts the small walk to his bedroom, and you try to ignore the way his stomach pressed against your clothed clit is providing the smallest amount of friction with each of his steps, instead deciding to direct your attention to him instead. You give a gentle open mouthed kiss to the small mole on the side of his neck, you make a small path sucking where his jaw meets his neck, and he hums deeply making his chest rumble against yours in response.

When you reach his room, the smell of his fabric softener fills your lungs as he presses your back against his now closed door. His hands trail from your ass, trusting you to hold yourself up around him, up your sides, he slides your arms from around his neck and to the wall until your hands are effectively pinned above your head. The air between you is heavy for a moment as his dark eyes take in how you look like this, your eyes starry as your chest rises and falls in anticipation of his next move. 

He kisses you again, slower this time. You whimper into his mouth when his hips grind his hard dick into your clit. His thighs flexing under yours as he grinds up again harder, swallowing as many of your beautiful sounds as you’ll give him. 

He stops his hips and tucks his arms under you again to set you on his bed. 

You reach your shirt to pull it over your head but he stops you.

“Let me.” He says half a statement, half a question. 

You smile and say nothing but grant him permission by raising your arms above your head. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt grazing your skin making goosebumps blossom on your flesh as he pulls it up and over your head. He reaches for the clasp of your bra slowly and gently like you might break, as if he wasn’t just shoving you against his door with his cock. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out harshly when your hardened nipples are finally released to the cool air of his room.

He quickly strips off his hoodie revealing that he’s been painting without a shirt underneath the whole night. Your breath hitches as all the times you’d touched his arm or chest the hours prior, not knowing there was only a thin barrier between your fingers and his skin. You run your eyes over his bare chest and hard stomach, you knew he worked out but hot damn, those baggy clothes he wears does no justice to what’s under them. However he doesn’t give you much time to marvel before he reconnects his lips with yours leaning into you until your back is on his duvet, you spread your legs to make room for him to settle in between. 

His hot skin drags softly against your nipples as he descends down your frame to pepper kisses along the valley of your breasts. He licks his fingers to roll one of your nipples between his wet digits while he attaches his mouth the other, swirling his tongue in intoxicating circles. You sigh at the small relief his mouth is bringing you and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly when his teeth bite down onto your sensitive bud. You feel the bed bow slightly below you as his hips stutter at your action. He quickly tends to the small sting with his tongue. Giving a gentle kiss to your nipple as he pulls away. 

He sits up and hooks his fingers into your pants, but stops before tugging them down. “Is this okay?” He asks sincerely. 

“Very.” You say, your heart clenching at his concern and help him slide your pants to your ankles, eager to have his soft skin on yours again. 

He brings his lips to your neck again and you wrap your legs around his waist rocking your hips up to rub your neglected clit against his rigid cock that he has yet to spring free. The wet spot on your panties rubbing off onto his sweats. You moan into his ear at the small relief you’re able to bring yourself, arching your back further in attempt to get more friction and he chuckles against your skin.

“Patience, sweetheart.” He smirks down at you and your feeble attempt to feel his cock. 

“Don’t wanna be patient. Want you to fuck me.” You say trying your best not to whine, as you reach for the waistband of his pants. 

He runs his tongue along his lip and leans down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, don’t worry beautiful, I will.” He moves your hands and rolls his hips into yours once to punctuate his sentence. “But I wanna taste you first.” He says and quickly sits back on his knees to slip your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him not worrying about where they land. 

He settles his shoulders under the back of your thighs and makes a path of open mouth kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, stopping right before your sex and inhaling deeply as he sucks a bruise into your skin, your face heats up and your hips shake in excitement. 

“You smell fucking delicious, sweetheart.” he looks up at you with soft doe eyes that completely contradict his filthy words. He lingers just a whisper away from where you want him and you roll your hips to meet his lips. He smirks again at your frustration moving his lips to your other knee to make a wet path up your other leg with his mouth, seeing how long he can push you. Stopping midthigh to speak again into your skin. 

“I wanna take my time with you sweets. Greedy little girls don’t get to cum on my tongue.” His eyes darken when they look up at you, his words sending electricity through your nerves and arousal dripping onto his sheets.

You opt for silently nodding as the only thing you could muster at the moment is a whine that you want to keep at bay. 

“Are you gonna take what I give you, sweetheart?” He says rubbing circles into your hip.

“Yes, Sir.” You breathe trying your best not to roll your hips into his touch and get scolded again. 

“Good girl.” He smiles at your compliance and finally gives you what you want.

He licks a long flat stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue and swirling it around your throbbing clit. Your thighs tighten around his head and he groans against you. 

“Taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He all but moans into your folds. He swears he could get off just like this, with his tongue buried in your cunt and his hips rocking his cock into his mattress. 

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. He obliges you and wraps his lips around your clit sucking harshly, crude slurping noises filling the room but both of you are too lost in the sensation to care. Your hips start rocking against his mouth again, this time your body fully taking a mind of its own, your climax being the only thing you can think about. 

“That’s my good girl, use my tongue to get off.” You moan louder at his words and speed up your movements, balling his hair into fists. As he looks up at you with lidded eyes, he gets lost, lost in your taste, lost in the way your sweaty chest heaves with your heavy breaths, lost in the way his name falls from your lips with your eyes screwed shut.

“I’m s-so fucking close!” your voice comes out in a strained moan cracking at the end of your sentence. 

“Cum for me beautiful, wanna taste your cum.” He says wrapping his lips around your clit again to pull your orgasm from you. He may have called you greedy, but he couldn’t get enough of the way your thighs shook around him. 

“Holy shit! Jungkook!” your orgasm hits you like a wave starting in your stomach and sending fire through your veins. Your hips stutter and Jungkook licks you languidly through your high. All the while your mouth mutters his name in an incoherent mantra. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and climbs over you leaning on his forearms, and captures your lips in his. You taste yourself on them and smile against his mouth.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He says placing soft kisses along your jaw. And you’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks flare at his comment. “Think you can still take my cock?” he says squeezing himself at the base through his pants. 

“God yes.” You say perhaps a little too enthusiastically and he chuckles at you. 

“You really are a greedy one, aren’t you sweetheart?” He says teasingly. “Let me get you ready first.” He says rubbing his thumb in small circles on your clit, your sensitivity makes you jump a little.

He looks down to watch the way your velvet walls swallow his fingers, but he stops his movement, realizing his hands are still covered in paint. 

“Shit.” He mutters almost silently. “I’ll be right back.” He says with a smile pecking your lips before he slips out his door. Closing it behind him just in case, as not to let Hobi unknowingly come home early only to find you spread eagle on his roommates bed. 

What the hell is he doing? Your eyebrows furrow, worried he’s gonna get some sort of convoluted sex toy. Which while you wouldn’t normally object, that’s a tad presumptuous on his part. 

Your mental ramble cut short and worries put to rest when he reenters the room with clean hands. He strips his sweats from his hips and climbs back over you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to get some sort of paint-chemical related rash on your… lady bits.” He says hesitantly breathing out a laugh against your cheek.

“While that’s incredibly considerate of you. That sentence didn’t do much for my ‘lady bits’.” you know what his venom filled tongue is capable of, so his childish use of words makes you giggle. 

He rolls his eyes at you and cups your face, pulling you in for another deep kiss. His hand snakes down between your legs and when his thumb connects with your clit you squeak and break the kiss.

“Your hands are freezing.” you say with more of a pout than you’re willing to admit. You presume he didn’t wanna make you wait too long so he washed his hands in cold water. 

“Why don’t you warm them up for me?” he quirks a brow and smirks. Bringing his hand up to your mouth and sticking his middle and ring finger between your lips. You happily wrap your lips around his digits; licking, sucking, and humming in content around them.

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his boxers as he watches your cheeks hollow slightly around his slender fingers, resisting from pushing them deeper in your mouth and seeing how pretty you look when you gag for him. 

He removes his hand from your mouth, marveling at the string of saliva that follows it. He reaches down to tease your entrance letting your spit and arousal get you ready for his stretch. He slips his fingers into your dripping core and has to hold back from moaning at how well you hug him. 

“Your pussy is so tight, sweetheart.” He breathes. “Your sweet cunt is gonna squeeze me real well won’t it?” He says catching your bottom lip between his teeth. You can’t help but clench around his fingers. “That’s my good girl.” He says, his eyes darkening and he curls into your sweet spot, you moan at how quickly he seems to be learning your body. Like he could figure out exactly what makes you tick if you stayed in his bed for just a while longer.

He removes his fingers making you whimper. He slips his boxers down a little and uses your arousal and his precum to wet his dick. Your mouth waters and you clench around nothing at how beautiful he looks slowly pumping himself with furrowed brows, until now he’s done a good job of not showing how badly his body demands to be touched just as much as yours does. 

He lines himself with your entrance and teases your clit with the tip of his cock, fighting the urge to slam himself into you to the hilt. 

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he says mere millimeters away from slipping into you. 

“I’m on the pill.” you reassure and gasp at how close he is to giving you everything you wanted since he crashed his lips into yours at the easel. Or possibly before that.

That’s all he needed to hear before he pushed his cock past your entrance and into your wet pussy, the stretch he’s giving you making you thank him silently for insisting on warming you up first. 

“Fuck.” You both moan at how well you squeeze around him. He goes slow, inching in to give you time to adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper. He continues his slow pace breathing hot and thick against your neck. 

He sits up to watch how he disappears inside you. “Look how well you take my cock, sweetheart.” He says picking up some speed in his thrusts. You moan at how well he hits every spot in you that’s been left untouched tonight, his dirty words only further building the pressure in your pelvis. 

His thrusts become harder and you reach up you brace yourself on his biceps, his muscles flexing while he supports his weight above you. He angles his hips up slightly hitting your sweet spot perfectly, and you nearly yelp at the sensation, digging your nails into his arms making him hiss.

“Right there? Is that how your little pussy likes it?” He feigns a subtle innocence in his voice. Like he can’t see with his own eyes how well he’s fucking you.

“Yes, fuck! Please don’t stop.” you beg, mostly to get him to do just that, but also because of the sweaty fog his delicious cock has worked into your mind isn’t exactly allowing you to form the most intelligent of sentences.

He sits back on his knees and pushes one of your legs to your chest, his dick hitting deeper than you thought possible making your eyes roll back and your jaw slack. Your moans become uncontrollable and the words you’re attempting to say just come out in broken sounds.

“Such a good slut for me, look at you falling apart on my cock.” his voice almost a growl. “You gonna cum soon, sweetheart?” He says with a voice like silk to mask how close he is himself.

You can’t do more than nod fractically at his words in fear your voice will betray you. He rubs your clit with his thumb to earn your second climax from you.

And you do, your walls tighten around his cock but his pace doesn’t falter. Your legs shake and your eyes roll back. You cover your mouth to muffle a scream. Your orgasm ripping through you so hard you feel like you might burst. 

Jungkook hisses at how hard you’re squeezing him and fucks you through your high. He reaches to his headboard to fuck into you harder, being selfish for the first time tonight, using you to chase his own high.

“Where do you want it?” He says in a stifled whine.

“Cum inside Jungkook. I want you to fill me up.” You say pressing your nails into his chest. The overstimulation you feel in your core is worth every thrust when he finally lets go and fills you with his cum. His cock twitching as he slowly rides out his climax. 

He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily into your neck. Then rolls over to the other side of the bed, to allow both of you some cool air on your skin. 

“I hope I didn’t go too hard at the end there, are you okay?” He looks over at you with worried eyes.

“No. No it’s okay, I liked it.” you smile, your lungs and heart rate working hard to steady themselves.

After he’s caught his breath a little he reaches into his bedside table to get a small rag to wipe up some of his cum leaking out of you, and you suddenly feel very vulnerable at his thoughtful gesture. 

The post sex clarity hitting your mind, not quite in the way you hoped. As you lay there the height of what you two just did sending your mind go into overdrive.

Oh fuck. You run through the events of the night starting to panic a little. He’s my friend, how did this even happen? I wasn’t gonna do this. I wasn’t gonna let this get more complicated than my attraction to him already was. Shit, I’m an idiot. I mean he did kiss me, but… I can’t let this happen again. I don’t want this to end badly and have to move just because I think with my idiot vagina. It makes things too complicated. Okay, I have to end whatever that was now before things get even more complicated. He won’t mind right? He’s a college dude, he’s probably fine with just hittin’ it and quittin’ it. Yeah, everything is good. Friends can fuck once and then be good, it happens all the time. 

You sit up from his bed and run your hands through your hair a couple times in an attempt to tame it and start to pick up your clothes. 

“Are you okay?” He says, watching you as you attempt to find your underwear.

“Yeah, I’m good, just have an early class in the morning and I should probably get going.” you force a smile. 

“Oh, uh okay.” He says not quite convinced. Though you weren’t lying about that, you really did have a class in about seven hours.

“Hey um,” you hesitate, sliding your pants on just choosing to abandon your underwear. “This was just a one time thing, right?” you ask him, hating the way you said that. 

He senses your tone and feels a little twinge in his chest, but he ignores it, putting on a smile instead. “Yeah, definitely. Why do you ask?” 

“Okay, good.” Another twinge. “I just don’t want things to be too complicated, with us being neighbors and all…” You trail off, trying not to cringe at yourself. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He pauses, realizing for the first time that this could have negative consequences. “No worries, it’s forgotten. Just friends.” He reassures pulling his pants on.

“Just friends.” You smile and extend your hand to him. You shake on it. 

You pull your shirt over your head. 

“See you later, neighbor.” You say attempting to bring back the way things were just an hour ago. And you slip out his door.

He doesn’t walk you home like he normally does, and honestly you’re thankful. You just want to be back in your apartment where you can pretend that didn’t just happen. Even if that was one of the best fucks you've ever had, you're certainly not going to think about it. What is there to think about? Nothing happened.

You slip out his door, and into yours, met with Jimin munching in your kitchen, presumably after a party and your feet halt in their tracks. 

“Damn babe, you look positively wrecked.” He says with a knowing smirk.

“Jimin, I am so not in the mood for whatever you’re about to say.” you say exasperated.

“Oh, so I should save the ‘I told you so’? Would you rather get it in the morning?” He asks innocently, though he’s anything but.

“Preferably never.” You quip and slip into your bedroom.

Yeah, never is good, we’re just gonna pretend none of that happened.

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

Taglist: @taezeus​ @spoopysoph​ @gucci-prince-tae​ @jiminiesthiccthighs​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​ @hermiones-enchantment​ @irissilujm​ @flo-music​ @scalbra​ @sugarrimajins​ @embrace-themagic​ @megsmiiiii​ @nerdycookiemonster-1222​ @livorna​ 

[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

i’m so tasty and the price is right (shigadabi)

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: explicit content warning: shameless porn, name-calling, both feminine & masculine terms used for ftm genitals, uhhhh i think thats it, hit me if i’m wrong tomura has an onlyfans and dabi helps him out for the viewers

-

tomura shigaraki, the anxiety-riddled, anger-filled, screaming child prodigy turned drop-out streamer that dabi was currently rooming with, had an onlyfans. dabi had only found this out through coincidence one night when he, for the first time, actually grabbed the mail on his way up. tomura had a bunch of perverted letters sent in from fans, all knowing him by his streamer name ‘decay’. they called him by his given name in the letters, something that shocked dabi and made it even funnier to read through.

his first instinct was to charge into tomura’s room to question him on it. and dabi wasn’t really a thinking man, so that’s what he did. he charged in with the letters in his hand, interrupting tomura’s stream as he scrambled to mute himself. 

“what the fuck do you want, dabi?” his raspy voice stuck in a permanent whine. it was honestly kinda cute sometimes. it was very easy to antagonize the poor boy, so dabi did it as often as he could get away with before tomura started threatening him. and not that dabi was scared of tomura— he could easily beat his ass at this point in time, all made up of scrawny limbs and long-term malnourishment. the only times he ate a real actual meal were when dabi reminded him and/or provided him with food. it put another pang of worry in dabi’s chest that he chose, again, to ignore.

tomura’s eyes scanned dabi, falling onto the papers in his hands with a confused expression.

“what?” tomura repeated, “what’s that shit?”

dabi’s grin was maniacal. 

“nothing, nothing,” dabi moved them behind his back, “only your creepy fan letters. from your fans.” there was a beat of silence before tomura’s face heated up and he stomped over, trying his hardest to grab at the letters dabi held.

“dude, why didn’t you tell me you were a pornstar? that’s like—” his laughing was cut off with a cough as he held the papers above their heads, shaking them to taunt tomura even more. tomura eventually jumped and snatched them out of dabi’s hands, shoving them in his trash can and going to sit back in his chair. he paused his stream as dabi caught his breath.

tomura took a deep (slightly crackly) breath, and started a practiced monologue, “i’m not a pornstar, i just hold… extra liveshows later on for more cash because streaming doesn’t exactly pay the best and for certain legal reasons i can’t really get a good job. so i basically just…” he sighed and winced a bit, “i record myself jacking off?” his sentence ended in more of an uncertain question than a statement, almost as if he was scared. “i don’t do it when you’re home, or at least i try not to, and i don’t bug you with it, so i don’t see why it would matter—” 

his rambling was cut off as tomura looked up to see dabi suddenly being a lot closer than he remembered.

“that’s fuckin’ hot, no apologies needed.” dabi’s voice was lower than usual, setting tomura’s face even further on fire, lighting up red as he covered his face.

“what the hell, freakshow, you can’t just say shit like that—” tomura said, muffled through his hands.

“but i can, and i will. you know i’m a pretty honest man, creep.” dabi chuckled. “now are you gonna let me fuck you up on your little stream or what?” he leaned down to be level with tomura who was still sat in his chair. 

there was only silence from tomura’s end.

“c’mon, won’t another dude be good for business? i promise i’ll take good care of you.” dabi got even closer with these words, trapping tomura in with his hands on the elbow rests, mouthing filthy promises in his ear.

“okay. we can take turns blowin’ each other.” tomura grumbled, pushing at dabi’s shoulders to move him from his position over him. “but i gotta finish off this stream first, i’ll come get you when it’s time. get cleaned up and shit, i won’t suck you off if you’re gross.” tomura didn’t look him in the eyes, putting his headphones back on and officially ending the conversation as he got back to whatever murder game he was playing with an apology for being gone.

dabi stalked off to the bathroom, burying his intense excitement and arousal deep in his gut and turning on the shower. he got pretty much everything, cleaner than he had been in weeks as a gross dude with an illegal gig barely classified as a job. he always did wonder how tomura was able to pay so much of the bills, but he didn’t want to bring it up and sound bitchy. he was half hard just from the thought, tomura always being the grumpy catch he was always afraid to go for, for fear that he would get kicked out of the apartment the morning after or something along those lines.

the stunt he had just pulled was exhilarating. he thought about the flush he had seen on tomura’s face as he stepped out of the shower. he was still at half mast as he brushed his teeth and put on deodorant (stealing tomuras’), towel wrapped around his waist. dabi had always thought himself to be a kind of a catch, positively covered in tattoos and piercings and even some cosmetic staples. his brother said he was addicted to body mods, bu he chose to ignore those words in favor of finding something else to do to or with his body. 

he wondered what he should wear. he didn’t want to struggle with it too much, just going for what he had on before the shower. he shook his hair out like a dog, water slightly darkened from the hair dye (he had just redyed it a couple days ago and he never truly had the care to wash it all the way out).

and when he was done with all that, he went into his room and collapsed on his bed facedown. there he stayed for a few moments as he tried to calm himself down, before just turned to his bong on the side table for some manual chill. he lit up a few times, only enough to make his head swim the tiniest bit, and went to play a few shitty games on his phone.

apparently he had been playing a little longer than he thought, already gone through a cigarette and another couple rips before tomura knocked on his door.

“ready to start up the live stream, get your ass in here if you still want in on it.” he heard through the door, followed by tomura’s footsteps leading off into his bedroom.

dabi, of course, immediately followed, hopping up and throwing his door open, excitedly shimmying his way up to tomura’s doorway. 

man

he was. he was wearing black thigh-highs, held up by a garter that he could barely see the beginnings of over a sweatshirt that was giant on his small, skinny frame. dabi’s sweatshirt.

“did—” dabi was damn near short of breath at the sigh ton display in front of him, “did you get that from my room?” 

“no, i got it from the living room. now let me get the camera on and the stream rolling before you fuck me up.” tomura chuckled softly, something that he didn’t do often. dab’s heart skipped a beat, and he pointedly chose to ignore it.

“you look fuckin’ hot, baby.” he murmured, eyes glued to the sligh bit of thigh on display over the top of the sock and before the sweatshirt.

“baby? what happened to creep?” tomura pressed record, laptop set up next to the camera so that they could see themselves and the chat, not giving dabi a chance to respond. tomura waited a few moments, before addressing the current pileup.

“hey everyone. i have a guest tonight, my roommate and the dude who eats all my damn cereal—” tomura paused and turned back to look at dabi who was still out of camera, “do you want your identity to be anonymous? ‘n’ do you wanna show your face?” 

dabi had a moment of pause, before shrugging. “nah, i don’t really have any shame, you’re not really anything to hide.” dabi once again shamelessly looked tomura up and down, earning an eyeroll and the beginnings of… was that a smile?

tomura turned back to the camera. “this is dabi, my roommate, and the dude who’s gonna eat me out on stream.” tomura said with no pause, and no stutter or hesitation. this was a performance, surely. it was so different from the blushing and hiding man who was avoiding his eyes a couple hours ago. tomura cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, mimicking a stage whisper. “this’ll be the first time with him, so you get our genuine reactions for free.” tomura chucked gently, watching the chat blow up at the premise of some genuine roommate porn.

tomura turned back to dabi, moving to pull him into frame and pushing him to sit on tomura’s bed.

“well, here goes nothing,” tomura murmured to himself, climbing into dabi’s lap and pulling him into a kiss. he immediately heard the dinging of tip notifications off to his side, and he knew his chat was probably going wild. dabi’s hands wandered, up tomura’s thighs that were positioned over his hips, and over the other mans own hips, back down to his thigh-highs. he pulled at them, snapping it against tomura’s thigh, earning a gasp that allotted enough room for dabi to stick his tongue in the others mouth. tomura’s own arms were slung over dabi’s shoulders coming up to run his hands through dabi’s undercut. tomura ground down against dabi’s half-hard cock, trying to work him up further. 

eventually their kiss broke for air and dabi stared into the camera with a knowing grin as he ground his hips upwards. tomura gasped loudly, sensitivity intensified by the hormones he had been taking for a while now. dabi moved to kiss down the white-haired boy’s throat, leaving little nips that had tomura giving breathy whines. he could tell some were played up for the camera, but he didn’t mind at all. he was rock hard in his jeans now, and he could feel the slickness that tomura had built up— soaking through his panties. which, by the way— now that dabi could see them, he was obsessed. they were bright blue and lacey, gorgeous against the pale flush of tomura’s scarred thighs. they hugged his hips nicely and made dabi want to rip them apart. 

tomura gently pushed him away from his neck, rolling his hips against dabi as he leaned back slightly to look at the camera. “chat, who should go first? who do you wanna see cum first?” his words were syrupy and seductive as their hips worked in tandem. someone donated with a fairly large amount, spouting something about wanting to see the pretty boy choke on cock.

and who were they to deny the nice donator?

tomura turned back to dabi, running a hand down the man’s chest, grabbing at the end of his shirt. dabi got the hint and removed his shirt, hearing the chat pop off for a moment.  “your lucky day, freakshow. fuck me up.” tomura whispered and he hopped off dabi’s lap, spreading dabi’s legs manually and making himself comfortable between them.

“feel free to grab the camera to get that angle, yknow?” tomura looked up at him as he laid his cheek on dabi’s thigh, uncomfortable close to the bulge in dabi’s pants.

dabi leaned back on his hands, letting tomura unbutton his pants and shimmy his boxers down enough to pull his cock out. tomura had a moment of shock at the sight of it, long and thick with about 5 pieces of fuckin’ metal stuck into it. 

when his shock wore off, he decided a quip would be appropriate. “y’know i always did wonder if it continued on down—” tomura gestured to all of his various facial and body piercings, finally licking a stripe up his length and taking dabi by surprise, making him gasp. tomura was surprisingly good at this, dabi had thought him a lame little virgin before he found out about the whole onlyfans thing. but no, tomura had apparently had quite a bit of practice, shown off by the rapid rate at which he was able to adjust to the intrusion of dabi’s cock, sinking down and feeling the metal rods on the underside grind one by one against his tongue. it was heaven, and dabi reached one hand into tomura’s hair for support.

this led tomura to pull off, only to say the words, “pull on it,” before sinking his hot mouth back down onto dabi’s dick. and so dabi did what he was told, taking the hair in his hands and pulling, earning a genuine moan from tomura that reverberated its way down his cock. the hottest thing was that tomura was making him feel this good with only his mouth. his hands were currently on dabi’s thighs, moving up to his hips as if to insinuate something. dabi pulled him back by his hair. tomura whined, which was the hottest thing ever and looked up at dabi with a wanting— no, expecting stare. 

“use your words, babydoll.” he muttered to tomura, watching his face heat up, much more like his bashful self before the camera turned on. the audience was eating it up, so used to his unphased confidence and sheer no-fucks-given attitude, that seeing this form of subby shigaraki was like dessert for them.

“use me, dabi,” tomura muttered, eyes focused on the ground as he shuffled on his knees.

“what was that? i couldn’t hear you, speak up.” dabi teased and used his hand that was in tomura’s hair to slip down and hook his finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at dabi.

tomura’s eyes glazed over for a second at the stern look that dabi was giving him, before blinking harshly and shaking his head a bit, as if to clear his mind.

“fuck my throat, dabi. use me.” his voice was clear and without any shyness now, an almost grin spreading across his cheeks. though his inner submission didn’t go unseen, as the look in his eye and the redness of his face and the way he arched his back even now, was more honest than any words he could say. 

“if you say so, baby. tap me if you want off.” dabi moved his hand back to tomura’s hair, gripping it tight and using it to line himself up with tomura’s lips.

“open up. you’re gonna be so good at this, i can just tell.” dabi growled out. tomura followed directions, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out to show up, dabi sliding his cock to the back of the other man’s throat. he stopped for a moment to let tomura adjust, but tomura took that to his advantage, meeting dabi’s eyes and sucking hard.

“jesus fuck, baby—” dabi panted, starting up a smooth rhythm with his hips, both hands now in tomura’s hair to practically use him like a toy. a human fleshlight.

“god, tomura, you whore— how’dya get so good at this? d’ya— d’ya practice?” dabi’s hips sped up as tomura moaned deep in his throat, vibrating against his cock. the words were turning tomura’s poor brain into jello. the chat was going wild, donations at an all time high as they watched their favorite creator get used like a toy. 

dabi felt the tension building up in his gut. a few more moments of this and he would be done for. he reached down with one of the hands to wrap around tomura’s throat, so that he couldn’t even semi-breathe through his nose. he felt tomura gag, throat clamping down on his cock. tomura had yet to tap him, so he continued with his wild ministrations, letting go of tomura and pulling his dick out until just the tip rested on tomura’s tongue as he worked himself off the final edge and came, coating tomura’s lips and tongue.

“don’t swallow yet.” dabi’s tone was winded yet still authoritative. “show your audience baby, you did amazing. show them how good of a slut you are.” dabi grabbed tomura’s chin and manually turned the boy’s head to the camera, watching with hungry eyes as he showed off the spend on his tongue. 

“okay, now swallow.” dabi ordered, watching as tomura did it easily. dabi knew at that instant that he had sent tomura into a momentary headspace of sorts. he wanted to treat the boy after using him so roughly, so he helped him up and out of the sweatshirt, splayed out on the bed, hair spread out around his head like a halo. he looked like a proper angel as the blurriness finally worked its way out of those eyes and the real tomura came back on line.

“jesus christ, dabi.” tomura grumbled. his pale face was on fire. dabi thought that was the hottest thing he had ever experienced. 

dabi was lowering himself onto his knees, pulling tomura’s hips to hang off the bed, spreading them so that he could lay lovebites along his inner thighs. it was almost agonizing with how long he carried it out, working numerous dark purple hickeys onto his thighs, as if to claim, and to show off. he knew that if tomura did a show in the next few days, they would be visible, and that made him hot under the collar.

“god, freakshow, get on with it!” tomura whined, trying to arch up onto something, but failing as a result of dabi’s iron grip on his thighs. 

“ah, ah ah— what do we say when we want something, babydoll?” dabi’s low voice made goosebumps rise up on tomura’s skin, and the poor boy nearly gave in and started begging right there. dabi stopped pressing kisses to tomura’s thighs, sitting back holding tomura’s legs apart, waiting on his reply.

“i need an answer, creep.” the familiar nickname from the man between his legs made it more… intimate. tomura swallowed his pride.

“please— please dabi, please suck me off, i need it—” he was rewarded with dabi ripping his panties off, exposing his nether regions to the open air. tomura whined at the cold, feeling it against his wet cunt. but soon the feeling of cold air was replaced with a soft, excellent warm suction on his dick, one of dabi’s hands reaching up to run two fingers along his slit. 

it made tomura nearly scream, instead moving one of his hands to cover his mouth. dabi instantly let up on the attention, reaching up to move tomura’s hand. “you gotta put on a show tomura, remember that.” dabi chuckled before he went back to work, moving his lips down to run his tongue against tomura’s hole. tomura was arching his back and more or less grinding against dabi’s face as he moaned loudly. dabi knew his way around eating out, so it wouldn’t be long for the other man, who had already been so wound up for so long. dabi went back to sucking on his clit and he moved his two fingers to enter, making an awful noise when they did. tomura’s wetness rolled down dabi’s wrist and before long, tomura’s legs were shaking as dabi brought him to the edge. 

now, dabi was a little shit by nature. so he doubled, even tripled his efforts in speed and pressure, rocketing tomura over the edge and working his fingers in and out at such a speed that had tomura writhing against the sheets in oversensitivity. 

and dabi kept going. he was on a mission, and soon enough, his efforts were rewarded when tomura soaked the sheets and dabi’s arm and lower face. dabi worked him through it, milking him of every drop, before he finally let up. tomura lay there practically braindead for a bit, dabi even going so far as to wave at the camera as he stroked tomura’s thighs, waiting for him to be coherent enough for dabi to leave for a second to get a towel. 

once he had come back to the land of the living, tomura ended the stream with a quick thank you to the donators and visitors, while dabi was up getting a towel, and tomura had caught his breath by the time dabi was back with towels and water. dabi wiped his face, arms and upper torso off, and tomura wiped his junk down, throwing the towel somewhere on the floor. 

“my junk hurts, you asshole. god— why are you so good at that?” were the first words out fo tomura’s mouth, eliciting a loud laugh from dabi as he opened the window and pulled out a cigarette.

“get me one too, freakshow. i need it after that. my dono’s are through the fuckin’ roof though, so thanks for our rent.” he spoke quietly against the sounds of the city as dabi lit his cigarette and tossed one and his lighter to tomura.

dabi only gave him a devilish smirk.

“you gonna let me do that again?”

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

You and Me, We Don’t Make Sense (But No One Does)

Ao3

Summary: Roman loved the idea of romance, and everything that was attached to it. Romance itself, on the other hand... well, it wasn’t really his thing And, despite what anyone else might say, that was alright. Warnings: Kind of aphobia (of the aromantic kind), self-doubt (specifically of one’s romantic orientation) Pairings: QPR Royality Notes: Inspired by this post from @notveryglittery

    Roman loved the idea of romance.

    It was, after all, an extremely alluring concept. Buying great bouquets for those you love? Date nights tailored to your combined interests, spent just with each other? Grand tales of just what romantic love could overcome? Soft and sweet kisses filled with adoration? Roman loved all of it and more.

    Roman, however, didn’t care much for actual romance.

    It was to his benefit he wasn’t even certain what romantic love was, aside from what other people told him. It wasn’t like he necessarily had anything against romantic relationships, they just… never seemed right for him.

    The result of this collision of his love of concept but dislike of execution often resulted in his being almost excessively affectionate with his friends (of which he had many- he disliked romantic relationships, not people), family, and even strangers at times. Though he really should stop interacting with strangers like that. In his experience, a lot of them got the wrong impression.

    For an example, Roman had to look little farther than less than an hour ago. He had been buying flowers for his partner, Patton (they were cupioromantic, which had made them and Roman even more of a perfect match than they naturally were- though unfamiliar with romance itself, they were both very well-versed in the language of it) when he noticed two women giggling and clearly talking about him from a little ways across the shop. From what he could tell of their conversation, the giggling was nervous as they tried to convince the other to go talk to him.

    Roman was, in all honesty, flattered. He considered himself to be exceptionally pretty (a point wholeheartedly supported by Patton), and moments like these reminded him that he was not the only person with that opinion. He smiled smugly as he finished making his selection, waiting to see if the women would figure themselves out or not.

    It wasn’t until he had finished making his purchase that one of them did approach him. She tapped his shoulder lightly, and Roman smiled, putting on his handsomest grin before he turned towards her.

    “May I help you?” He asked her politely. At Roman’s attention, her cheeks coloured slightly, and Roman couldn’t help but feel proud that, yes, he still had it.

    She awkwardly gestured towards the bouquet of red gaillardias and blue freesias. “For someone special?”

    “They are.” Roman admitted easily. “Though if I gave them to you, I would still be telling the truth.”

    The woman giggled a bit, flushing even more. “You sure are a charmer.”

    “It helps that you are so charming yourself, ma’dam.”

    She smiled at that, looking down in a poor attempt to hide her ever-rising blush. “Hey, listen… I was wondering… if you’d like to maybe… go out sometime…?”

    Roman kept his own smile up, tone still light as he answered, “Apologies, for as delightful as that sounds, I do not date. I’m certain any man would be lucky to have you, however.”

    Normally, that was where it ended- the woman (or man or enby) would be a bit abashed at being turned down, but they’d still be smiling, and hopefully feeling very confident in themselves after Roman complimented them, saying thank you and wishing him a good day as they headed off. Roman would go on with his day as well, feeling happy himself at getting the chance to make someone’s day at least a little better.

    But this woman seemed as if she was looking to be an exception. “You don’t date?” She asked, sounding confused. “Are you… are you married?”

    “I am not.” Roman said (though he did hope one day his answer to that question would be ‘yes’).

    “Then… why don’t you date?”

    Roman forced himself to keep his smile up. Conversation rarely veered in this direction, but when it did, it was… uncomfortable. So few people actually knew what he meant when he said he was bellusromantic, and explaining it always seemed to take longer than it should. “Not my thing.” He settled on, knowing it sounded lame but not in the mood to truly get into it. “Now, if you do excuse me, I have somewhere to be. Have a good day.”

    He made his way to the door as quickly as he could without looking suspicious- uncomfortable questions aside, he didn’t want the woman to think he was fleeing her or something similar- ignoring the fact that he was almost certain the woman was watching him as he left. He was halfway across the shop when he heard the woman’s friend come over to her, their conversation quiet but just loud enough that Roman could hear it-

    “So, did you get his number?”

    “No… he said he… doesn’t date.”

    “That’s… weird.”

    “He was weird. He was being so romantic, too… it doesn’t make sense.”

    Luckily, for Roman’s sake, he had reached the door by then, and was out into the world, the women’s voices and conversation out of his hearing. The words he had caught, however, stuck in his mind, bouncing around in his head as he headed for his car.

    He wasn’t weird or nonsensical! Liking romance but not wanting to be romantic with anyone was normal, and real, and perfectly sensical, and he knew that because that’s who he was, and how he had felt for as long as he could remember, and there was a name and a flag for it and everything! Some random lady’s opinion didn't change that!

    So why did Roman have to spend five minutes just sitting in his car before he drove home, holding the wheel and lightly hitting his head against it as her words echoed in his head?

    ~~

    “Patton, sweetest, darling, dearest, I’m home!” Roman called out as he closed the door behind him, trying to infuse his voice with all the enthusiasm he had had before the interaction in the flower shop.

    Almost immediately, Patton was there, with bright colours from the entire rainbow and then some smeared across their hands, arms, and face, their apron even more colourful. They were smiling just as brightly, and despite his preoccupations, Roman’s heart would always lift at that smile.

    “You’re home!” Patton said excitedly, eagerly rushing up to Roman but stopping just an inch from him. They smiled sheepishly, raising their painted hands. “Guess I shouldn’t touch you, huh?”

    Roman smiled. “My clothes- and cheeks- are washable.”

    Patton let out a happy squeak, immediately squishing Roman’s cheeks between their hands and kissing him. “I missed you.” Patton said in between a second kiss. “Missed your sweetness and prettiness and handsomeness and loveliness and-”

    “Shhh, love bug, or I’m going to die before you get to see my surprise.” Roman whined, leaning his forehead against Patton’s, trying to keep them from kissing him again and completely stealing his voice.

    “There is no greater surprise than that of waking up every morning to find you once more beside me.” Patton said, hands slipping away from Roman’s cheeks to loop around his back instead, holding him close. “I am certain a vision such as yourself should have vanished by now.”

    Roman’s cheeks quickly turned a shade of red bright enough to rival the dash of red Patton had smeared on their cheeks. “For an angel, dearheart, you are being very impish.”

    “That’s. Because. I. Love. You!” Patton said, covering Roman’s face in kisses to punctuate every word. They giggled when Roman made a strangled noise at the affection, clearly satisfied at having broken their partner.

    “Take your surprise before I melt into a puddle.” Roman managed to say after a moment, pulling back slightly from Patton and moving the hand he had hidden behind his back in front of him to reveal the bouquet to Patton.

    Patton’s eyes lit up at the sight of the flowers, shining so radiantly Roman was surprised the glare didn’t catch on their glasses. They gratefully accepted the flowers, smelling them before looking up at Roman once more, still smiling. “They’re so pretty!” They commented excitedly.

    “Just like you, sweetheart.” Roman said easily, relaxedly, watching as Patton’s cheeks blushed red immediately.

    “Now look at who’s making who melt.” Patton accused, holding the flowers up in a useless attempt to hide their blush.

    “I am simply telling you the truth.” Roman defended, grinning as he pulled the flowers down and returned the favor of covering Patton’s face in kisses (though he was careful to not kiss the still drying paint).

    Patton giggled, allowing themself to be drowned in Roman’s affections for a moment before they pulled back. “I need to put these in water.” They said hastily, quickly rushing off towards the kitchen to avoid Roman grabbing their wrist and stopping them for more kisses.

    He still followed them however, coming to a stop in the kitchen doorway and leaning against it as he watched Patton bustle about, pulling out a nice vase and filling it with water before working to free the flowers of their plastic sheath. He sighed as he crossed his arms, happy to watch Patton work. Their golden hair had been pulled into a ponytail, to avoid getting paint in it, but it was still stained with blues and pinks. They slid about the kitchen in mismatched kitten socks as they cheerily completed their task.

    It was all simple things that he noticed, Roman supposed, noticing how Patton’s hair was put up or how they moved or the fact that the back of their right arm had clearly been purposefully smeared with a gradient of colours from purple to pink that blended into lines of grey-purple-white-pink beside it. But he liked the simple things. He loved noticing them. He loved noticing everything about Patton.

    The vase full, Patton moved it to their table, Roman switching from the kitchen doorway to the one that separated kitchen and dining room, once more leaning on it as he watched Patton place the vase and drop the flowers in. Immediately after dropping them, Patton pulled two back out- one gaillardia and one freesia. Roman smiled as they immediately went to work at tucking them behind their ears.

    Roman had seen that coming- he always picked brightly coloured flowers for a reason. Patton loved the colours, would slowly pick through the entire bouquet, decorating their hair with one of each flower until there were no more and Roman was out to buy more. It was his favorite part about buying flowers for Patton- the sweetness and closeness of the traditionally romantic gesture was just an extra benefit-

    He was weird. He was being so romantic, too… it doesn’t make sense.

    Roman closed his eyes, grimacing at the memory as he pressed his head against the doorway. He really hoped that mental link wouldn’t last long. Because it was stupid, really, completely stupid, stupid stupid stupid.

    He looked at Patton again. Patton. His partner. His beautiful lovely gorgeous amazing partner, who he loved with more than all of his heart, who he loved to kiss and hold and shower in affection, who he had a perfectly sensical relationship with regardless of the fact that it was filled with romantic actions but no actual romance because romantic attraction was for suckers anyways-

    “Honey?”

    Roman blinked, surprised to suddenly find that Patton was in front of him, frowning softly and watching Roman with concern. He plastered on a smile. “Yes, sweet pea?”

    Patton tilted their head to the side, raising one hand to cup Roman’s cheek. “You’re distracted. Something’s wrong.” Patton commented. “What’s wrong, darling?”

    Roman’s smile softened at Patton’s worry, and he placed his hands on Patton’s shoulders reassuringly. “I’m alright, sunshine. Nothing’s wrong.”

    “You’re lying.” Patton said, frown deepening. “Something happened while you were out. Did someone say something to you?”

    Roman chuckled drily. “You’re too good at guessing games.”

    “What did they say?” Patton pressed, ignoring the weak joke.

    “Nothing important.”

    “It’s bothering you. It’s important.”

    “Just something stupid- an offhanded comment, nothing more, it’s really not anything to worry about, love-”

    Patton’s second hand came up to cup Roman’s other cheek, shutting him up and forcing his attention on Patton. “Tell me.” Patton begged. “Please, baby, tell me.”

    Roman tried to resist for a moment, really not wanting to burden Patton with anything, but his partner was very convincing, especially when they were using not only puppy eyes but worried puppy eyes on him, and soon enough he gave in with a sigh and, “Just a side comment at the flower shop- was just paying a woman some compliments when I had to tell her I don’t date- she called it- me- weird, said it didn’t make sense… it’s not like I haven’t heard it before, I just-”

    “I’m going to fight her.”

    “Dearest-”

    “I’m going to fight her so hard she won’t even-” Patton glared at the ground, their face looking adorably angry, before they looked back at Roman, expression now a mix of anger (directed elsewhere) and sympathy (directed just at Roman). “I’m so sorry, honey, you shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

    “It’s nothing, really, Patton, I can deal with it-”

    “But you shouldn’t have to!” Patton exclaimed vehemently. “You were just trying to be nice and she was being rude and wrong. You’re not weird, you’re beautiful and kind and sweet and fun and absolutely lovely.”

    Roman smiled softly. “Thank you-”

    “And of course we don’t make sense!” Patton continued, on a roll and unwilling to stop. “No couples make sense! People say they do, but they don’t! Romance is weird! Relationships are weird! People are weird! None of us make sense! At all! It’s stupid to expect us to! It’s stupid that you had to deal with today, and that you’ll probably have to deal with it later!”

    Patton pushed themself even closer to Roman, pressing their forehead against his as they stared into his eyes. “What we have is beautiful and rich and wonderful and unique, and I love it and I love you and I wouldn’t ever trade it for something as boring as something that ‘makes sense.’”

    Roman’s smile grew at that, completely genuine, and he pressed his eyes closed for a moment to chase away the few tears that were trying to escape. “I love you.”

    Patton smiled as they tilted their head, moving so they could pull Roman into a sweet kiss. Roman’s arms moved so that he could embrace Patton while they kissed, and Patton willingly obliged him by stepping forward so that they were almost completely pressed up against him.

    Eventually, Patton pulled away, still smiley. “You’ve got paint all over your face, you know.” They said, already starting to giggle. “Makes you look adorable.”

    “You’re adorable too.” Roman returned. “But you don’t need the paint for that.”

    Patton laughed at that, a light and soft and pretty sound that made Roman want to kiss them forever. He knew he couldn’t get away with forever, to his greatest disappointment, but he did manage to get in another full minute of just covering Patton’s face in little kisses, fast little pecks that only made Patton laugh and blush more, both which were factors that only increased Roman’s need to kiss them.

    Finally, however, Patton pushed Roman away, still grinning even as they lightly scolded, “That’s enough out of you. We’re not going to get anything done if I let you keep kissing me forever.”

    “Oh, who cares about doing things?” Roman asked teasingly, trying to steal another kiss only to have Patton dodge him. “I’d be happy to kiss you til I couldn’t.”

    “I know you would.” Patton said, moving their hands to hold Roman’s arms as they leaned even further backwards. “Which is why I really have to be the one to stop this or we’ll be here until you fall over and I’m left to nurse you back to health.”

    “That sounds wonderful to me.”

    Patton shook their head. “You’re reckless in the pursuit of love.” They said.

    “No, I’m not.” Roman argued. “I am reckless in the pursuit of you. You just happen to be my love, and my heart, and my sunshine, and my whole entire world-”

    “This is what I mean by unique!” Patton said happily. “Sometimes love is the universe falling for the sun.”

    Roman blushed. “Oh, that’s not fair.”

    “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” Patton told him. “I can try and make it up to you, though.”

    “Hmm? How so?”

    “With food and entertainment and cuddles and if you’re very lucky I might even give you kissing rights back.”

    “I like the sound of that.” Roman admitted. “What are we watching?”

    Patton hummed. “Up to you. We could watch Moana, or some Masterchef Junior if you’re looking for something quicker.”

    “I like the sound of both.” Roman admitted, smiling at Patton. “Can I have both?”

    Patton smiled back. “Yes, but only because you’re so charming.”

    “I’ll take it.” Roman said. “What’re we eating?”

    “I was going to make pasta-”

    “Too long.” Roman cut him off with a whine. “Wanna get to cuddling.”

    Patton chuckled. “Snacks, then?”

    Roman nodded. “Yes, but only if we get them together so I don’t have to let go of you.”

    “You’re clingy.” Patton joked, but they still held onto Roman’s hand as they made their way back into the kitchen, quickly pulling a bag of chips out of the pantry and some sodas out of the fridge. “This good?”

    “If it means we can be wrapped around each other like we’ll never let go on the couch sooner, than yes.”

    Patton just laughed again and allowed Roman to tug them both over to the couch. He flopped onto it first, beckoning for Patton to follow, whining when Patton put Moana into the Blu-Ray first and set down the snacks before coming to sit down as well.

    Of course, they weren’t sitting long, Roman wrapping around them and pulling them over so that they could properly cuddle stretched out over the couch. He kicked at the blanket spread over the back of the couch, pulling it over so that it landed mostly over them. He nestled his head into the crook of Patton’s neck as Patton turned the movie on, dropping the remote and leaving it to play as they leaned back, getting closer to Roman.

    Soon enough, Patton turned their head to look at Roman’s face, smiling when they found Roman already looking at them, himself smiling softly and fondly.

    “Hey, Patton?” Roman asked, quietly.

    “Yes?”

    “You know I love you more than I have ever loved anything or anyone, right? No romo though.”

    Patton chuckled lightly, managing to bend their head just enough to press a kiss to the side of Roman’s mouth. “I know. And it’s okay. I love you just as much… and then some.”

    “Cheater.”

    “Oh, hush. I’m your cheater, and you know you love me.”

    Roman grinned. “Yes I do. And you know what?”

    He bent his head so he could return a similar kiss on the edge of Patton’s lips. “Loving you? It’s the most sensible thing in the world.”

[skiller0dani]

Heather | Zagene

M A S T E R L I S T YouTube Masterlist

angst  requests info

I’ve always been really selective of what I write about. But I’m done doing that lol. I’m going to write about what I want to write about, and if people don’t like it then they can go to another blog. 

And today I feel like writing something kinda sad about one of my favorite YouTube ships. Zagene, or Zach and Eugene from The Try Guys. There’s something so pure about how opposite they are. Also I love that Eugene “hates” hugs but like always is hugging Zach?? And just being cuddly towards him??? but sure, Eugene “doesn’t like” hugs. 

also I got inspired obvi by the song “Heather” so Zach’s imaginary girlfriend is named Heather. I couldn’t use Maggie, I love her and Zach together too much. 

Eugene didn’t hate her, he just wanted to. 

Honestly she was sweet, she was kind, and funny, and it was all his damned fault. He had helped Zach polish his Tinder profile after days of Zach’s endless begging. Eugene didn’t even know how deep his feelings ran until after Zach and Heather got together. He was the master at hiding his emotions, even from himself it would seem. Heather was quirky, wore penguin socks to work, once shaved her head just for fun, she was so perfect for him. They were both tiny, odd, and were much kinder than this world deserved. 

Eugene did not hate Heather, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

He wanted to hate her. He wanted to hate her when he saw her press her lips to Zach’s. He wanted to hate her when Zach shed his jacket to lay softly over her shoulders when the wind picked up. Eugene wanted to hate her, but mostly because of the way Zach lit up whenever she was around. He wanted to be the one making Zach come alive, he wanted to be the most important person in Zach’s life. Eugene is completely aware how incredibly selfish that is but he can’t help himself, he wants Zach all to himself. He wanted to hate Heather, but he didn’t. How could he hate someone who was always so unfailingly kind to him? If anything, Eugene hates himself for letting it go this far. He should have dealt with this stupid crush on Zach the first second he noticed it, but he didn’t. He let it fester and grow until it felt like a wound infected with flowers. Something that should be horrible, but isn’t. That almost makes it more horrible. 

Zach walked into the office that cursed day with the brightest smile upon his face. He waltzed right over to his standing desk and ignored the questioning gaze Eugene was giving him, he looked happier than he usually did. Eugene couldn’t help but ask. 

“What the hell are you smiling about?” He scowled, but Zach didn’t seem to notice. 

“Well good morning to you too sunshine.” Zach teased, the corners of his eyes still wrinkled with that faint smile. It bugged Eugene immensely. What on Earth had Zach in such a good mood today? He turned back to his desk, trying to ignore the smaller man sitting to his left, but it nagged at him for most of the day, like an annoying itch under his skin. Eugene tried to concentrate on his work, but every time Zach’s phone screen lit up, it caught his attention. Who was Zach talking to so much? Then came the question that sent everything in Eugene’s mind spiraling downwards. 

“Hey Zach, how was your date?” It was Keith who asked, and Eugene’s throat went try in an instant. Date? Eugene looked at Zach in subtle interest, watching Zach’s face crack into that beautiful smile once more. “Great, I’m seeing her again after work.” Ned and Keith congratulated him, and asked who would be the new Mayor of ‘Singleville’. Eugene couldn’t focus on anything other than the news that Zach has found somebody. Zach, his Zach, has found somebody? Who the hell even is she? She’s probably awful, it won’t last long. Guilt flashed through Eugene at the selfish thoughts plaguing his mind, but his heart yearned for Zach painfully. 

Eugene managed to ignore Zach and the new girlfriend for the remainder of the day, that is until she was meeting him right after work. As in meeting him at the office, and unfortunately meeting the other Try Guys as well. Eugene included. 

The first thing he noticed was that annoyingly, she was absolutely beautiful. Her eyes gleamed when she looked at Zach, her hand searching for him in some way, eventually grasping at his hand. “Hi, uh I’m Heather.” She greeted nervously upon looking at Eugene. She seemed put together when she spoke to Keith and Ned, but Eugene was far more intimidating to approach then the other two. Plus the deep set glare Eugene had on his face didn’t make him feel any more approachable. Zach shot him a pleading look, a ‘please don’t scare her away’ look. 

Eugene promptly ignored him. He was trying to scare her away. 

“Eugene.” He said coldly, his handshake brief as he towered above her. She really was tiny, even Zach towered over her. She couldn’t have been taller than 5,0″. Zach pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before shooting Eugene another look after excusing himself to gather his things. Poor Heather stood trembling in Eugene’s presence, and found herself inching closer to Keith and Ned. But Eugene was someone really important to Zach, so she wanted to know him. Even if Eugene didn’t want to know her. “S-So how long have you known Zach?” 

Eugene was hoping she wasn’t talking to him, but when he looked over at her their eyes met. 

“Longer than you.” Eugene snapped. He couldn’t help himself, it felt like they were competing for Zach’s attention. Eugene was going to win. 

“Oh don’t mind him, he doesn’t really like strangers.” Ned laughed nervously, Eugene was closed off to people he didn’t know so that was no surprise, but he was being extra bristly today and nobody knew why. Well, nobody except for maybe Keith- who’d had a hunch about where Eugene’s heart was located and Eugene’s less than welcoming attitude towards Zach’s girlfriend was all the confirmation he needed. Heather steeled her frazzled nerves and faced Eugene again. 

“Zach speaks very highly of you, he says you’re an extremely talented film director.” She says and Eugene feels disarmed for a moment. Zach has told her about him? What else has Zach said? 

“He embellishes my skills. I’ve had a lot of work on the projects I’ve directed.” 

“He also said you were stoic.” She smiled when she saw a crack in Eugene’s armor. She may not know how intense Eugene’s feelings for Zach are but she can certainly see that Zach is a soft spot for Eugene. She figures it’s in a brotherly way- and she finds that endearing. She’s wrong, but Eugene won’t tell her that. Heather opens her mouth to say something else but when Zach emerges with a large backpack slung over his shoulder- Eugene’s eyebrows pinch together in concern. 

“Let me-” 

“Eugene you don’t have to.” 

“Your back is going to hurt.” Eugene insists as he takes Zach’s bag and car keys, his eyes only briefly glancing towards Heather. Zach watches with heated cheeks as Eugene hauls his bag out to the car, “why didn’t you tell me Eugene has such a soft spot for you?” Heather asks with a small smile. 

Confusion is the first thing that crosses Zach’s mind. 

“He doesn’t?” Zach questions with a laugh but Heather merely raises a brow at him. 

“Oh he so does, he wanted nothing to do with me until I started talking about you.” She said and another blush roared across Zach’s pale cheeks. He drapes an arm over her shoulder with a nervous shrug. But when he sees Eugene sitting on the porch steps outside, he pulls away from Heather. 

Eugene hears the door creak open, and he already knows who it is by the scent of Zach’s cologne. He never wears cologne. He probably wore it for Heather. “You okay ‘Gene?” That was a nickname Eugene detested at first, but now he doesn’t mind it. Only when Zach says it- he snaps at anyone else who says it. 

“Mhm.” Eugene offers a glance over his shoulder, but Zach doesn’t move. Eugene feels his heart splintering with every worried look Zach gives him, he could never tell Zach why he was so upset. Sorry I’ve been in love with you for the last 3 years, so that’s why I hate your girlfriend, except I don’t really hate her because she’s actually not that bad! 

Zach sits next to Eugene and bumps their shoulders together. “You’re retreating back into yourself again.” It’s safer that way. Eugene wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead he merely offers nothing more than a shrug, he needs to stop being selfish and just let Zach be happy even if it’s not with him. Eugene feels nauseated in Zach’s presence, he feels like Zach is cheating on him. He knows how ridiculous that sounds, but thinking of him with Heather, makes Eugene positively sick to his stomach. The anger rising inside Eugene is going to erupt from him any second now, why wont Zach just leave him alone? 

“Eugene whatever it is-” 

“It’s you Zach! Why the hell do you talk about me so damn much? There’s no reason your fucking girlfriend should know so much about me already.” Eugene snaps angrily, his face twisting as he glares over at Zach. The normal smile on Zach’s face has melted away, “I’m sorry- I didn’t know-” 

“No you did know you just didn’t care. You’re selfish Zach and you don’t think about anyone except for yourself. Now get your stupid girlfriend and leave me the hell alone.” Eugene nearly yells, the pain in his heart overwhelming him. He doesn’t dare glance at Zach, even when he hears a sniffle come from him, not even when Zach stands and hastily turns back inside, not when the door slams shut behind him. Zach was crying. Eugene made him cry. Eugene drops his head to his hands, feeling tears pushing into his own eyes. 

Nothing felt the same after Eugene’s angry outburst, and the last thing Eugene wanted to do was change the dynamic of his and Zach’s friendship. But everything felt different now. He didn’t know if he should talk to Zach about it or...apologize? Zach didn’t seem very keen on talking to Eugene anyway. Heather swung by the office more often, and despite what happened with Zach she still smiled at Eugene. She still brought him coffee when she brought everyone else coffee, she still told him ‘good afternoon’. She was still so damn nice. 

Damn her. 

It was late, and Zach was trying to get some work done, he found himself in the office but his back was starting to scream in pain. The stiffness in his neck had spread far down the length of his spine, and he winced in pain as he stood and stretched. Zach couldn’t stop thinking about what Eugene said, how angry he was. Zach wanted to know what was wrong, and he knew 100% it wasn’t because he told Heather about Eugene. It still hurt to hear the hurtful things Eugene said, but something else is bothering him and he was lashing out. 

“Oh hey babe.” Zach greeted after hearing his Vampire Weekend ringtone. Heather was silent, in all honesty Zach wasn’t sure how interested he even was in her. Sure she was beautiful, funny, kind, and the sex was okay but the entire relationship lacked that spark. It lacked that butterflies in your stomach moment, when Zach kissed Heather he felt no fireworks going off, no weak in the knees. It just felt like a kiss, and he knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. He has no idea why he asked her out in the first place. 

“Can we talk?” This question should make him nervous, but it doesn’t. 

Zach leans against the wall, the pain in his spine becoming unbearable by the second. “Sure.” He winces, Heather doesn’t mention it if she hears him. 

“I like you Zach, but I can tell you don’t like me. Because of Eugene.” Zach’s eyebrows furrow, because of Eugene? 

“What do you mean?” He asks in confusion, and it honestly breaks her heart that Zach doesn’t deny the fact that he doesn’t like her. 

“I have no idea how you haven’t noticed your obvious crush on Eugene.” The second the words leave her lips, Zach’s entire world seems to stop. Zach doesn’t have a crush on Eugene, does he? 

“Look it really isn’t a big deal to me, but I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” Heather says and she doesn’t sound angry, or even hurt but Zach knows she probably is. “Uh yeah okay.” Is all he can think to say, does he have a crush on Eugene? 

Zach feels like he should be more bothered by the fact that Heather just broke up with him but as soon as he hangs up the call, his back pain goes sky high. Zach collapses against the couch, his legs going numb from the pain. Zach reaches for his phone but groans, he can’t call Heather for help obviously and Keith and Ned are on double date night with their wives. 

That leaves only Eugene. 

As soon as Eugene hears the pain in Zach’s voice, and the gentle plea he’s out his apartment door. When he reaches the office, Zach is still on the floor, propped against the couch as he writhes in pain. Neither of them say anything as Eugene kneels down to take Zach’s hands, and neither of them address the spark that shoots through them at the feel of skin on skin. Neither of them talk about the fight, neither of them talk about the fact that Zach leaned into Eugene’s chest more naturally then he would have liked. Eugene scoops Zach into his arms, and he ignores how nice it feels to be the one Zach called for help, to be the one Zach wanted to take care of him. 

No neither of them talk about the obvious feelings stirring in both of their chests.

They don’t talk about it, but they should.  

[quercussp]

Long-horned beetles and dusty archives

Rating: T

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Dan was climbing up the marble steps of the museum full of dread and resentment. It was Sunday morning, and all his classmates were probably still asleep, or nursing their hangovers from the party before. But Dan couldn’t do that, no. Because Dan skipped too many classes in his General Biology course, he now would have to make it up with extra credit. By working at some sort of museum with some grad student that needed help sorting bugs. Yuck.

Spoiler: the grad student is Phil.

Authors note: A belated birthday present for @insectbah. You are my people and I treasure it immensely.

A gigantic thank you to @redactednp​ and @alittledizzy​ for encouragement and fantastic beta work.

Warnings: there are mentions of insects in this fic. Also very light swearing.

[read on ao3]

Dan was climbing up the marble steps of the museum full of dread and resentment. It was Sunday morning, and all his classmates were probably still asleep, or nursing their hangovers from the party before. But Dan couldn’t do that, no. Because Dan skipped too many classes in his General Biology course, he now would have to make it up with extra credit. By working at some sort of museum with some grad student that needed help sorting bugs. Yuck. The reason Dan took this class in the first place was because people told him that the professor was chill and most people got A’s. They forgot to mention that in order to get an A you actually had to work. It’s not like Dan was interested in any of this shit. Carbon cycling, ATPs, exoskeletons… all that sounded like pure gibberish and had absolutely no use for him in his future career.

Not that he knew what that future career was going to be. Or if there was even going to be one. Or if he was just gonna go back to working at the department store, spending his evenings playing video games by himself and being miserable, eating stale pizza and wasting away his life without any happiness whatsoever. Ok, Dan was a tad dramatic sometimes, he could admit that. But for now he was trying to get through college that his father insisted he go to, barely scraping by with grades to keep up his scholarship and just randomly taking classes in everything, in the hopes that something will rock his world and make him feel like a human and not a blob. So far bio101 was not turning out to be that.

Dan took a pause in front of the tall wooden doors of the side entrance of the museum with a small sign saying “Employees only”. Here goes nothing.

He pulled the door open and walked into the entrance hall. A bored looking security guard looked up from his phone as Dan approached the security desk.

“Can I help you?” the guard asked eyeing Dan suspiciously.

“Yes, I’m here to see…” Dan checked the note on his phone “... Philip Lester? From the entomology department?”

The guard searched around his desk. “I don’t have any notes from anyone, was he supposed to meet you here? Can’t let you in without an employee signing you in.”

Dan felt the familiar shiver of anxiety of not being in the right place stir up in his chest. “I don’t know, sir,” he replied. His professor just said to show up at 8 am. Nothing else.

“Can you call him?” the guard asked.

“I don’t have his number. I guess I’ll just wait here.”

“Ok,” the security guard replied, going back to his phone.

Well this was perfect Dan thought to himself. It was 8:05, he woke up at an ungodly hour to be here, and now he couldn’t even get into the building. Just perfect, everything was perfect.

He sat down on a bench next to the entrance and absentmindedly scrolled through his twitter feed. Why did he even decide to take this stupid class? And why did he have to miss three seminars in one semester? He could have been in his tiny bed under his blanket right now, sleeping.

Dan was almost ready to give up and just go home, when he heard loud steps approaching and a disheveled looking guy ran out of one of the doors and towards the security guard.

If Dan wasn’t irritated from being up so early and being forced to wait for 20 minutes, he would probably have noticed that the guy was very cute. As in very very cute. He was tall, almost as tall as Dan, had a messy quiff of dark hair, glasses and a smile that just made the whole room light up. He was also wearing a sweater with little bees embroidered across it and Dan could see that the socks that were peeking out from under his skinny jeans were mismatched. Ok, maybe Dan noticed all this despite being sleep deprived and grumpy. Maybe it was very hard to miss.

“I’m so so sorry I’m late! You’re Dan, right? I’m Phil. Sorry, Dan, you must have been waiting for so long! I totally lost track of time!”

The guy was out of breath and looking so apologetic that Dan’s annoyance melted away entirely.

“No it’s fine. Yeah, I’m Dan. Nice to meet you” Dan stood up and awkwardly offered his hand to shake Phil’s, only to realize that it was super sweaty and retracting it to wipe on his jeans just as Phil extended his. “Shit, sorry,” he said as he attempted to shake Phil’s hand again. Phil’s hand was nice. It was sweaty and warm, but also very very soft and smooth. His fingers were long and thin and bony and Dan was definitely not intensely looking at his fingers at all, that would be totally weird.

If Phil thought that Dan looking too intently at his hands was weird, or that their handshake lasted significantly longer than was socially accepted, he didn’t show it.

“Thank you for coming Dan, I’ll take you up to my office, we’re going to have so much fun! I’ve wanted to have someone help me out forever!” Phil swiped his ID card at the gate (his ID card was covered in animal stickers and Dan felt his heart skip a beat).

Phil took Dan up the stairs and through long semilit corridors of the museum. Dan never realized what museums looked like beyond the showrooms. For some reason, he just assumed that working in a museum meant like wiping glass off of showcases or something. He didn’t even think of the fact of just how many rooms there were beyond what the visitors got to see.

While they walked through the corridors Phil kept rambling.

“Jeremy, I mean Professor Knight, said that you want to help out with indexing of my latest collection. I mean… I guess I don’t know if you actually want to. But if you don’t like it I can find something else for you to do. I don’t want you to be miserable of course! It’s actually fun! And if you have to leave early, don’t worry! I understand, I mean I won’t tell Jer.. Professor Knight.”

Dan stayed quiet. Phil’s eyes were really nice. They were such a magical blue color…

“This is me!” Phil came to a halt at a door covered in posters from top to bottom. Most of them were different bugs, but there were also a couple of old magazine pages and a drawing of an octopus waving a pride flag. Dan’s heart did another skippity skip and he felt his neck getting really warm.

Phil took out a gigantic keyring full of keys and started going through it. He finally pulled out a small silver key and unlocked the door, gesturing at Dan to come in.

They walked in and Phil turned on the light. The office was tiny and overflowing with things. There were shelves lining all the walls, full of books and papers and random boxes. Some of them were covered by what looked like scientific posters with graphs and weird figures. The whole office smelled like dust and old books and also some other particular smell Dan couldn’t place.

“You can leave your stuff here if you want,” Phil said, gesturing to a desk that was almost entirely covered by papers. “Let me just gather some stuff and we can go to the collection room”. Even though Dan had known Phil for like 5 minutes, he felt that he could tell that this was Phil’s desk immediately. The whole side of the desk was covered in layers and layers of stickers. There was a slightly sad looking cactus standing on the desk with a LED light over it. The cactus was decorated with a paper chain of little beetles. A gigantic unicorn glass was on the corner of the desk, overflowing with pencils and pens, and with a rainbow flag sticking out of it. There was also a giant mug with what looked to be a starbucks logo on it, except it had a bug drawn on it and the periphery said “Entomology Coffee Co.”

Dan threw his bag on the chair on the desk and took a step back, putting his hands in his pockets.

After a little bit of rummaging through the mess on his desk, Phil let out an “aha!” and turned to Dan, holding a pile of notebooks, a laptop and some papers. “Let's go!” Phil said, opening the office door and turning off the light.

They continued walking through the maze of the museum corridors.

“So Dan, you’re a 3rd year, right? What’s your major?” Phil asked.

Dan immediately froze up on the inside. It was a totally normal question to ask, it wasn’t Phil’s fault that Dan was a total fuck up and didn’t know what he was doing.

“I… I actually haven’t declared one yet,” Dan answered quietly, blushing a little bit.

“Oh! That’s fine, I also didn’t know what major to declare! It’s ok, you have time!”

“Do I though?” Dan asked before he could stop himself. “Aren’t I supposed to know what I’m doing with my life?”

“Oh Dan, no one knows what they’re doing with their life!” Phil answered smiling kindly. “Getting a degree in something doesn’t suddenly make you know who you are.”

They made another sharp turn and started climbing some stairs.

“But you know what you want to do, right? You’re in grad school, you like these bugs and everything.” Dan replied.

Phil slowed down for a moment and looked at Dan. “I guess in some ways? But knowing that I like looking at insects doesn’t really help me know what I want to do in life. We’re all as confused as you are. We just fake it better.” Phil gave Dan a cheeky wink and continued walking. “The most important thing is to figure out what makes you happy, and then find a way to do that as much as possible. And there’s no time limit on that. For now, my insects make me happy, so I’m doing that. But who knows what’s ahead? Don’t pressure yourself, Dan.”

Phil was smiling so warmly at Dan, it was a bit shocking. Dan couldn’t remember the last time he felt so warmed by someone’s smile. He mumbled “Thank you,” quietly and looked away. He could feel a tear forming in his eye and the last thing he wanted was for Phil to see it.

There was a whirlpool of feelings in Dan’s chest. A load he didn’t know he was carrying suddenly felt lighter. Everyone around him kept telling him that he needs to make a choice. Do things. Declare a major. Find a job. Decide what team he batted for. Just everything. And here was a person, an older person, telling him that it was ok. Dan did not know how badly he needed to hear that.

They reached a large hall filled with gigantic wooden shelves with drawers.

“Welcome to the entomology collections Dan!” Phil exclaimed, as though he was showing Dan the most precious treasures in the world. Somehow Dan felt like he was warming up to bugs. If Phil was so happy about them, they couldn’t be bad, could they?

Phil placed all his stuff on a large desk next to a window and went to pull out a couple drawers from the shelves.

"Okay, so here's the specimens I collected over the summer. I need your help to put them into the museum database and make tags for them." Phil started explaining the process as he opened up a dirty looking notebook. "So here's my field notes. Sorry about the handwriting, just ask me if you can't read something."

Phil’s handwriting was indeed very bad. Very very bad.

“So for each of these jars…” Phil took out a jar from the drawer, and Dan felt an instant pang of disgust and nausea in his gut. There were bugs in the jars. Urgh. Insects. With their little legs. “... we need to make a card to put in the collection, and then insert all the data from the notes into this spreadsheet. You ok, Dan?”

Dan could feel that his body was tense and there were drops of sweat dripping down his back. “I just don’t really like bugs,” he said quietly, willing his stomach to calm down.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say! Oh no!” Phil looked so concerned that Dan would laugh if he didn’t feel so uncomfortable with all the little dead bugs in the jars. “You should have told your professor, he’s not a monster! I’m so sorry Dan!”

“It’s ok Phil, I’ll get over it. Don’t want to be a bother,” Dan said timidly, looking away.

“It’s not a bother! Dan, you can’t control things like this! How about we do this, you type in the field notes into the spreadsheet, and I’ll label the jars. Yes, and you can sit on this end of the table and I’ll turn away so you don’t see the jars. Is that ok?”

Phil’s concern was so genuine that Dan didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt silly for making someone worry about him, but oddly comforted by the fact that Phil wanted him to be happy and that he cared. He missed that feeling. Someone listening.

“That’s fine Phil, thank you. Sorry I’m such a wimp.”

“You’re not a wimp, Dan.” Phil looked sternly at him. “I’m scared of horses. Does that make me a wimp?”

“Horses? Why are you scared of horses?” Dan replied smiling.

“They look like they have something on their mind. And I always feel like they’re judging me.”

Dan burst out laughing. Phil’s lips stretched into a smile as well. “Seriously, their eyes are just full of mystery.”

“You’re not a wimp, Phil, you’re a weirdo,” Dan laughed. For a moment he felt like he crossed a line, calling someone you just met, someone who is in charge right now, a weirdo was probably not polite. But Phil just chuckled and looked flattered.

“Normal is boring anyway,” Phil replied.

They spent a minute looking at each other, smiling, and Dan could feel a blush creeping onto his neck and cheeks.

“Ok, let’s get to work!” Phil said, and began showing Dan how to fill out the database.

***

Turns out, working for extra credit in the museum collections was not nearly as boring or tedious as Dan thought. Or maybe it was that being with Phil wasn’t boring. They sat at the table going though notes and papers, sometimes chatting, sometimes just sitting in silence. Talking with Phil was nothing like talking to anyone else. He was effortlessly funny, genuine and most of all, incredibly kind. Dan had friends. Or at least he thought of them as friends. But he knew Phil for two hours and he already trusted to tell him things he would never tell his friends.

“My dad really wanted me to become a lawyer. But you need top grades for that and I failed the exam twice. The second time I just didn’t show up. I’m such a loser.”

“You’re not a loser, Dan. It sounds like you really hated those classes. If it’s not for you, it’s not for you. It doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”

“But I don’t know what I like. Everyone keeps saying that university is supposed to be this amazing time, but I feel I’m doing it wrong. Everyone else is off having fun, making friends, and I’m just… alone and miserable.” Dan looked up from his screen to look at Phil’s expression. It was as kind as always.

“University can be tough. Everyone is different, you know? And sometimes it takes some time to find your people. Don’t worry about that. I’m sure you’ll find them.”

“I just can’t fail at this too. I’ve already failed at everything else. At least according to my dad.”

Dan felt silent and Phil just listened, showing no judgement or question. He looked at Dan and Dan just wanted to drown in his eyes. They looked safe. Dan had never felt more safe in his life.

Their conversation slowly shifted to music, and Dan discovered that Phil’s music tastes were incredibly similar to his. “No way your favorite band is Muse, so is mine!” Dan was exclaiming, “I went to see them like 3 times!”

“So did I! I remember the concert in 2010 they gave in London, blew my mind!” Phil said.

“No way! At Wimbledon? I was there!” Dan replied. “You’re joking!”

“No, I was there! Wait, I’ll show you a pic!” Phil started scrolling through his phone and finally pulled up a photo of him and another guy with his arms around his shoulder.

“Phil… is that an emo fringe?!” Dan shreaked. “Oh my god, were you an emo? Wait, and your hair was black too? Oh, Phil…”

“Hey, emos are valid” Phil said smiling. “And my fringe looked great, not everyone has effortlessly beautiful curls on their big heads!”

Dan chose to store the memory of Phil saying that his curls were beautiful somewhere deep in his mind so he could later reflect on that in detail. Instead he took out his phone and searched through his photos.

“Phil, I was an emo wannabe as well, haha, and I would have killed for your fringe back in 2010. I spent most of my life straightening my hair every day!” He pulled up a photo of his younger self and inwardly cringed at himself. But if Phil would find it amusing to look at, Dan could take it.

“Oh Danny! You look so precious! Oh my, you’re such a baby!” Phil was looking at the kid in the photo with so much softness. “I wish I would have met you at that concert, we would have definitely hit it off with our emo hair and love for muse!”

“Yeah..” Dan said, trailing off.

They continued working, until Phil’s stomach gave a loud rumble.

“Sorry!” Phil said, blushing. He looked at his phone to check the time. “Oh, it’s lunch time! Want to go eat something? The cafe is closed today, but I have some sandwiches and there’s a vending machine on the second floor.”

Dan, who was getting quite hungry himself, eagerly stood up and followed Phil out of the collection room. They ended up walking through the mammals exhibit to get to the vending machine, and Dan felt a sense of foreboding, walking through a completely empty museum, his steps loudly echoing off of the walls.

They ate their chips and drank some soda while sitting on the steps of the Ancient Egypt room, with Phil telling Dan funny stories about odd encounters he had had. When Phil was describing his visit from the Holy Mother, Dan was almost crying from laughter. “You just attract weirdos, don't you!”

After they had some lunch, Phil took Dan through some of the empty exhibits to show him the coolest stuff. And because Dan didn’t like insects, Phil instead showed him the dinosaurs, which apparently he also knew everything about.

Eventually, they ended up back at their desk, going back to work. Talking to Phil was as easy as breathing, and Dan felt like he knew this guy for years. That’s why he just couldn’t help but wonder.

Dan spent a solid 10 minutes debating if it would be appropriate to ask Phil what he was thinking.

Deciding to go for it, he tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible “You have a pride flag on your desk?”

Phil silently pulled another jar out of the drawer. Dan suddenly felt terrified that he crossed the line, went too personal. But Phil calmly started filling out the next card and replied: “Yeah, I’m gay.”

Dan was stunned. Not by the fact that Phil was gay. He knew gay people, he wasn’t shocked by that. Just by how easily Phil said that. Just like that. I’m gay . As though it’s not a big deal. As though it’s not the biggest deal of all the deals. As though he wasn’t scared of saying it.

Dan’s hands were shaking and he was struggling to breathe properly. He was just looking at Phil, being Phil. With his rainbow flags, and his nerdy sweater and silly stickers.

Phil looked at Dan for a minute, as though about to ask something, but ended up staying silent and just going back to his work.

They were silent for some time, working in quiet. Dan thought it would be awkward, but it wasn’t. Even though Dan was shaking inside, he felt warm. He felt as though Phil just shared this piece of information with Dan but didn’t want anything in return. He was just giving Dan the opportunity to change the topic, or to talk about anything else if he wanted.

Dan’s curiosity won over his fear. “And like, does everyone know?”

Phil smiled in return. “I mean, it’s hard to miss, right? I’m out, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh”.

After a long pause, Dan suddenly blurted out: “I think I’m gay too.” His entire body went into panic mode. He was trembling all over and felt he couldn’t look at Phil anymore, so he closed his eyes.

He felt a warm smooth hand on his arm.

“Thanks for telling me, Dan,” Phil said. He gave Dan’s arm a gentle squeeze and let go. Dan immediately felt colder without the touch.

And that was it. After about a minute of silence Dan opened his eyes. The world was still here. No one other than him seemed to have felt that giant shift in the universe. Phil was quietly working on his index cards, humming some kind of melody, as though he didn’t just witness Dan’s complete meltdown.

A wave of relief washed through Dan. The panic in his chest was replaced with elation. He just said that out loud. He just came out. To one person maybe, but he did.

“Why do you even like insects?” Dan decided to break the silence.

Phil laughed. “Everyone asks me that. But insects are just so amazing Dan!” Phil’s eyes were sparkling. “You know that there are more species of insects than there are of all other land animals combined? They are truly the most diverse group of organisms in the world. And they can live almost anywhere! Truly, it’s amazing. Anywhere you look there are insects, and they’re all so different and fascinating and we just don’t know so much about them, how would anyone not want to learn more about them? Like, for example, the group that I study are called long-horned beetles, and there’s like 26 thousand different species, but we still don’t know really how they evolved or how they are related. Can you believe that? And we’re still discovering new species all the time…”

Dan felt his focus shift from what Phil was talking about to how he was talking about it. His whole face was lit up, his eyes full of passion, he was gesturing and Dan was entranced. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Where was this person his entire life? He didn’t even know people like this existed. Was this the feeling of finding “your people” that Phil talked about?

“... Dan are you even listening?” Dan felt himself shaken out of his trance. “Sorry! I tend to ramble about things, I’ll stop talking about beetle phylogenies now!”

Phil was smiling his apologetic and kind smile and Dan wanted to hug him.

“No! Phil it’s fine, you’re not rambling. I just don’t understand most of it. And I hate bugs. But I really like listening to you!”

Phil looked a little red in the face and elbowed Dan in the side playfully. “Well if you hate bugs we can’t be friends, I talk about insects a lot.”

“Oh no, I guess I have to become an entomologist now,” Dan joked. Because he would. He would do anything to be Phil’s friend.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Mr. I’mTerrifiedofMoths,” Phil replied. “We can always talk about Muse instead.”

They both smiled. It was getting and the table they were working at was being lit by the setting sun.

“I guess it’s time to go home” Phil said finally. The cold feeling was settling back into Dan’s chest. They gathered their kit and put away the specimens, making their way back to Phil’s office. After collecting their stuff, Phil led Dan out back to the side entrance and past the security guard. They walked down the steps of the museum in silence.

Say something. Just say something, Dan. Dan’s heart was thumping loudly. He gathered all the courage he had.

“Phil, do you want to go get a coffee?”

Phil turned around and his face was lit up by his warm bright smile. “Sure! There’s a Starbucks right around the corner, I am craving a Caramel Macchiato right now!”

“Pfff Phil, I didn’t know you were into multi million corporations that profit off of you being a basic bitch,” Dan replied.

“Well then I’ll go drink my delicious warm treat and you can stand outside and watch me,” Phil said and stuck his tongue out at Dan.

“I’ll watch your mum,” Dan snorted, bumping their shoulders together teasingly. Just the thought of having to be away from Phil was making him sad. As they kept walking Dan was wondering how he possibly could continue being in Phil’s presence. The mean part of Dan’s brain was telling him that no way this older, funny, beautiful, adorable guy would hang out with a loser like Dan. But the hopeful, eager part of him wanted to believe that Phil felt the connection between them as much as Dan. Or at least that he would, if they had some more time together.

“Can I come help you with your work sometime?” Dan asked hesitantly.

“Nah, that’s fine. I know insects aren’t your thing,” Dan felt his spirits sink. “Why don’t you instead come play Mario Kart with me at my place? We can hang out and there will be no bugs in sight, not counting my pet cockroaches, but you’ll learn to love them, they’re very cute.”

Dan felt happiness swell in him again. “Be careful what you wish for, Lester, I’m the Mario Kart king! Be prepared to have your ass handed to you!”

“Feeling cocky, Howell?” Phil replied with a raised eyebrow. Then he took out his phone and handed it to Dan. “Punch your number in. I’ll send you my number and my address. Come over any time after class, I’m usually home by 5.”

Dan quickly typed in the digits of his phone number. “Aren’t you scared I’ll come over and never leave? You barely know me,” he said jokingly, giving the phone back.

“Why would I be scared of that?” Answered Phil. “It would give us more time to hang out. So it sounds like a win to me.” He smiled a bit shyly, and looked down at his phone.

Dan’s phone pinged.

this is phil the insect guy ^.^ let’s be friends <3

Dan heart felt too big for his chest.

ok bug boy :P but keep your cockroaches away from me

Dan quickly texted back and put his phone away.

“I’ll make you come around to insects, Dan, don’t you worry. I’ll wear you down. You’ll learn to love them.” Phil was smiling at him.

“Never!” Dan declared dramatically. “I will never get what you like about them!”

“You know, you have much more in common with them then you think,” Phil said.

Dan gasped with mock offense. “Are you saying I’m a cockroach?!”

Phil chuckled. “Nah, you wish.” He continued with a quieter voice. “But you also have a hard exoskeleton on the outside, but are soft and endlessly fascinating on the inside. And I could also study you forever.” Their eyes met for a moment and they both blushed and looked down.

They continued to walk side to side, their arms softly brushing against each other. Walking through the city Dan felt as though he was seeing it for the first time. It was quite beautiful. The street lights were on and and lights twinkled in the trees in the trees. The air smelled of spring and happiness.

[nyrator]

some more ny life updates, feat. MBTI stuff, dreams, financial decisions, ACNH checklists, and Radiohead opinions

incredibly depressed lately to be honest, but trying not to be too depressed for this post- basically a place to vent without being super negative because it be public and stuff, helps calm me down, maybe

helping other people with depression is too hard for me, I think. Feels bad to distance myself, but I think avoiding rumination is all I can do when it gets to that point

decided to re-take one of those personality things recently because why not, friends were doing it. I don’t hold much weight to them personally but at least I seem to be consistently this result every few years

for reference, an earlier test:

https://www.16personalities.com/istp-personality

reading through the weaknesses and romantic parts, it almost eerie how it describes me. It’s wrong on the sex part, but feels right just about everywhere else. They even quote me on saying this at the end part. The nice thing is, apparently Kresna’s personality result is my ideal match, which is fitting.

I tend to think my personality is a very flawed one, unfortunately, at least when it comes to social relationships. I don’t like being flattered or praised, nor do I tend to show appreciation to those that deserve it, I feel. Feeling people are slighted by my lack of attention or affection for them more and more.

Energy in general is such a hard thing to grasp. Lately I just can’t seem to do or focus on anything, nor do I have any strong desires to do anything. Feels hard to draw or make anything, and I’m wondering how I’ll finish up that Artfight thing. All I want to do is lay in bed and sleep, maybe just change my sleep schedule and only be awake when no one else is, and just keep to myself

been laying in bed a lot lately, and I’ve noticed a trend in actually having dreams when I’m taking a nap- or at least, that weird “trying to take a nap but keeping eyes half-open basically because I don’t actually want to fall asleep” zone

both dreams I had this week involved different things that I forget, but the core part was basically my family assaulting me, pinning me to the wall, and speaking my darkest secrets into my ear.

First one was my late sister being a prick and possibly uncovering my secret and me trying to get rid of her, while her boyfriend grabs me by the throat and lifts me off the ground into the wall as she mocks me. Second one that I just had earlier tonight, I don’t even remember the context, but basically had my mother disgusted by me, forcefully pinning my arm behind my back and slamming me face first into a wall, telling me she’s aware and disgusted by all my secrets.

Earlier this month, I also had one of my first dreams in months, but it was one of my reoccurring humiliation dreams. Except this time, there was blood. It was a very uncomfortable dream.

I wonder if these dreams mean anything about my psyche or whatever lately.

but yeah, have a lot of money lately, yet still feels sickening to spend money on myself still. I feel like I’ve spent too much on myself lately, and it feels bleh. I like spending money on Kresna, but he doesn’t let me do it often, but it’s always appreciated when he does.

ended up setting up an eye exam in three weeks- decided to order my own frames this time, but shopping for frames is hard. Ended up buying these two (since I always seem to have to buy two pairs for some probably insurance-related reason), but frames are extremely hard to shop for, at least for me, and that lavender look I like is extremely hard to come by

I wonder if I show my appreciation for lavender too much- I think I want to go for thicker frames like the top one, though the bottom ones are like my old frames (same company), and have that metallic lavender look that I love. If I ever had a dream car, it’d be in that color, honestly.

speaking of cars, my neighbor is trying to sell us her old 1997 Saturn for $250, but I’m not sure if I want it, to be honest- One, it’s so old, two, it’s a stick, which I only have basic knowledge on how to drive, and three, I don’t like driving. I think my mother told her yes, which is unfortunate, but we’ll see how it goes.

some other financial decisions lately- bedding, bottles, and slippers (not shown- the more convenient backless purple slippers I now regularly wear, as well as more personal items)

throw pillows are good for holding while sleeping and for preventing my arms from waking up entirely numb sometimes

been thinking about buying more clothes and furniture, but now that I probably won’t be getting the extra $1000 with my unemployment, it’s even harder to justify buying anything. I’d like a new desk, at least- something able to display things would be nice. My boss told me I’ll be going back to work soon hopefully, so that would be nice, especially since this virus is a good excuse to not bring back my coworker and to give me full-time hours, but even then, spending money is hard. Been thinking about a new mousepad since I’ve had this old one for longer than I can remember (probably a college gift), but even something simple like that is tough.

in other random news, slowly trying to make progress in ACNH still- and by that I mean I’ve finally started keeping a checklist for items (had Bugs/Fish already, but now have DIYs and man there’s so many DIYs I’m missing, also Dresses - Umbrella tabs of clothing, basically everything but Tops and Bottoms so far, and mannn, there’s a lot of stuff, but I basically have almost every accessory/sock/shoe in purple/pink at least, now just grinding my way through the rest of the colors I skipped. Also caught a Golden Stag today, only three beetles left (Giraffe, Hercules, and Elephant, I believe)

should probably start saving my extra bugs/fish for making models for Justin Beaver and Hot Topic, I realize- collecting those models really doesn’t interest me much, but at the same time, I have a weird obsession with trying to 100% Animal Crossing games (at a reasonable speed, of course- figure I’d wait until next year to worry about those two)

haven’t tried dreaming yet and honestly my island is still a mess that I’m still hesitant because I still have no idea what to fill it with or how to organize it

one last thing I did buy is the rest of the Radiohead albums though- I now own all their albums, except disc 2 of In Rainbows, though. Should probably listen to that on Youtube, not sure where to find a physical release of it. Decided to rank them, because I like ranking things apparently, even though overall it doesn’t mean much since my tastes shift constantly, and every album is good to listen to in my opinion (honestly more of a way of solidifying a future “best of” playlist)

Personal feelings of ranking at the moment:

Hail to the Thief (every song is top tier, I just want to shout them all out, but in particular I think “A Punchup at a Wedding“, “Myxomatosis“, “2+2=5″, and “Sit down. Stand up” are my favorites)

In Rainbows (my old favorite before HttT blew it away, though I think ”Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” is still my favorite Radiohead song, also shout outs to “Videotape” and “Jigsaw Falling Into Place”)

Kid A (I was lukewarm to the album at first, but it has a lot of tunes that stand out to me, “Idioteque” is also one of my favorite Radiohead songs, also shout outs to "Everything in Its Right Place" and "How to Disappear Completely")

OK Computer (this is where placings start getting fuzzy, “Paranoid Android” was their first song I ever listened to and loved back in high school, thanks to Ergo Proxy, great song, though I think I’ve oversaturated myself to this album by having it play as my driving music when I still had a car. Shout outs to “Exit Music (For A Film)” and “Let Down”. “Karma Police” is also up there but feels a bit less than those I suppose)

A Moon Shaped Pool (I’d place this higher when I’m looking for a more somber/reflective album to listen to, otherwise about tied with OK Computer. My favorite on the album, “Daydreaming”, is what reintroduced me to Radiohead and got me obsessed with them- this album was my first album, though it’s definitely softer compared to their usual stuff. Also driving music so a bit oversaturated, and it feels harder to shout out specific songs, but shout outs “Ful Stop”, “Glass Eyes”, and heck, basically most of the later songs on the album)

Amnesiac (Some good songs, but just not to the levels of the others. “Knives Out” is a great song though, and I tend to like the first half of the album more than the last half, last half is pretty weak to me honestly- though I got it fairly recently, so may require more listenings)

Pablo Honey (the latest album I got, so it’s still fresh in my head and thus nothing is permanent with it compared to the others, but mannn, people undersold this album, it feels solid front to back. I honestly want to put it higher, I think. Hard to identify individual songs, but shout outs to “Blow Out” in particular, “I Can’t” as well- but again, every song is great, so might say it’s close to A Moon Shaped Pool levels in rankings)

The Bends (one of their first albums I got, also a car album, but definitely didn’t click with me like the others. I have warmed up to it more than I originally did at least- I mainly got the album because heck yeah “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” is a great track, also shout outs to “The Black Star”, that’s like, one of my random “mouth out the chorus in the car” songs. I also tend to have “High and Dry” in my head a lot for some reason, but yeah, good car music, but not much else going for it I think)

The King of Limbs (the second-latest album I own and also the least listened to album I own, but it feels very... non-standout-ish. Like it’s almost too simple-sounding, or repetitive, or something, definitely the weakest album in my personal opinion. Can’t even think of a song to shout out, so I guess “Lotus Flower”, honestly, but again, I need to listen to the album more. Good background noise but just nothing that jumps out at me)

but yeah radiohead is definitely my favorite music group, I’d say, and also realize almost every album has a bonus disc, so hm, more music to find it seems (admittedly I’m not a fan of live music in general, which seems to fill up a lot of these bonus discs)