#i own the second volume but i borrowed the first one from a friend.. it has a really nice premise so even though ive already

[no-nic]

“This is so stupid.” Kakashi is starting to regret letting Obito borrow his worn copy of Icha Icha Paradise (Volume 1, first edition, signed by the author). “‘I love you’,” quotes Obito dramatically. “‘You are my stars and my Moon...’ What does that even mean? Is this the kind of thing you want to hear from me?” Ah, the ending of chapter five. “You know, sometimes when people like each other…” “You are my stars — someone else’s light and warmth, I can only see you at night?” “It’s a literary…” Kakashi figures his explanation could be received better by any random kamui block. There is a monologue going on. He only hopes Obito will not disturb their comfortable reading position. “You are my Moon — I want to put a strong genjutsu on you to fulfill my deepest fantasies?” Okay, that is potentially disturbing, coming from Obito. “To be fair, that isn’t what most people think…” “I thought there would be explicit scenes straight away, not this empty flowery stuff that goes nowhere!” Obito pokes one of the many offending pages. “They keep confessing over and over with slightly different words. It’s boring. How do you read this with a straight face?” Privately Kakashi has some criticisms of his own. This is after all Jiraiya’s second book, first in a new series. He could admit that some chapters stretched on, the romantic tension that is supposed to be building is more like running in circles around a point. Some of the vocabulary is questionable too… But right now Obito seems to be expecting an answer. And Kakashi knows exactly which string to play. This is war. “Does it make you feel good — hating on my favorite book?” he whines. Obito throws Icha Icha Paradise out of reach. He leans into Kakashi and brings his mouth very, very close to Kakashi’s ear. The warm breath tickles. Kakashi does not try to suppress the shiver that comes over him. “Maybe,” Obito murmurs in a suddenly deeper voice — the kind that would bring Kakashi to his knees hearing it from across a battlefield. “Do you know what else could make me feel good?”

prompt: i love you 💓

art with a side of worth surviving for; it can be even turned into a post-war #obito lives au, if i ever have the energy

pretending it's still day 5 of kakaobi week 2025 by @kkobweek

#no one knows au; when your kamui home has everything but good fiction

✨ icha icha paradise (volume 1) ✨

kakashi: your friend pein flattened the village. you know, where my apartment was. all my books were there. and i barely started rebuilding my collection when someone declared war. this is the only book i had on me. deal with it. obito: it was a rhetorical question. i never saw you read anything but icha icha. kakashi: …you saw me? wait, when? how often were you watching me? obito: kakashi: obito: can you now be angry about the fact that my friend pein flattened the author?

kakashi: how much stolen jewelry do you even have here? obito: not much, why? kakashi: these matching rings fit us both perfectly. and the sharingan red stones are spot on obito, who will forever deny sneaking into a certain someone’s room to measure their fingers in their sleep and then commissioning a perfect pair of wedding rings: obito: thanks. it was a lucky find among mountains of treasure. i kept only the best ones and pawned off the rest

[puppppppppy]

I have to ask, is your pfp Mutsumi from Skip to Loafer?

!!!! yeah it is!! i read the first volume last year and fell deeply in love with the characters and story, so its one of my favorites lol. i highly recommend it <3

[persevereforahappyending]

He Hung Up

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “Ooh,” you said excited, jumping up from the couch. You reached out making a grabby hand already. “Give me the phone, I’m great at pissing people off.”

Warnings: Violent Threats

Word Count: 3k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You and your friends trudged up the many many steps to the Carpenter sister’s apartment. You were at a party with your girlfriend and her friends when a drunk frat guy decided to get a little handsy. Luckily for you or more like lucky for him Sam showed up. Sam tasing him was generous because if you had gotten your hands on him for what he was about to do with Tara you would have beaten the shit out of him.

Sam also showing up meant Tara had been caught. Meaning you were now all in trouble for going to the party. Chad and his roommate Ethan took up the rear, while Mindy and her girlfriend Anika, held hands giggling and walking as close together as they could get as if they were in their own little world. You were in front of them while your girlfriend and her sister led the way, arguing, like usual.

You had been holding Tara’s hand, but she really liked gesturing wildly when she got into it with Sam, so she eventually dropped your hand. You tried intervening a few times but after Sam stopped, turning her furious glare onto you, you quickly shut your mouth and dropped your eyes to the ground. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan of you already and as much as you wanted to stick up for your girlfriend, even though you agreed with her sister to an extent, you didn’t want to add any more reasons for Sam to hate you. You knew Tara didn’t care about Sam’s opinions when it came to you, but you still wanted the older Carpenter to like you, at this point you were grasping at anything to win you points.

When you got to the apartment you all piled in, you and Anika dropping onto the couch, Ethan shuffling himself into a chair off to the side. Sam quickly locked the several locks on the door before moving into the kitchen with the other three. You could hear the core four as Chad had stupidly nicknamed them all whisper arguing about the night’s events. Quinn slipped out of her room after hearing the commotion you all must have been making and plopped herself down in the other chair.

Your eyes had drifted to the TV that Anika had turned on though she kept the volume muted. You weren’t paying attention until you noticed it wasn’t just a normal boring news report.

“Hey guys,” you shouted getting the others’ attention. “You need to see this.” You reached for the remote, turning up the volume as the others re-entered the room.

Everyone was silent as the story played. Some college students were killed and a Ghostface mask was left at the scene.

“Oh, hey it’s those weird guys from class,” you commented when the news threw up a picture of the two students who were killed. “That one,” you pointed to the picture that had the name Jason under it, “is the creepy one that always stares at you.” You turned to give Tara a I told you so look.

“He didn’t stare at me,” Tara weakly defended.

“He paid more attention to you than to the class.”

“How would you know?” Tara raised a brow. “Unless you weren’t paying attention either.”

“I’m your girlfriend,” you put a hand to your heart. “When I stare at you it’s adorable.”

Tara didn’t say anything more, she just playfully rolled her eyes.

Tara had turned her attention back to the TV, but you couldn’t take your eyes off her. The class you shared with the weird Jason kid was where you first met Tara. She sat next to you and despite it being the first day you were completely unprepared, you had asked her to borrow a pen then ten seconds later asked for a sheet of paper.

After that first class you slowly started trying to talk to her during quiet moments of class or if you were lucky and she got there early enough before class. You could listen to her all day discuss the deeper meaning of her ‘elevated’ horror movies.

You were sitting in the very spot you were now on her couch a few months ago. You had come over to Tara’s place to work on a paper for class, she was hesitant because her sister didn’t like unknown guests, but she said since her sister would be at therapy it would be fine. And you were fine, quietly working on your paper, stealing subtle glances at Tara.

You had been crushing on her hard since you first saw her but didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. With her history you weren’t sure she wanted anything more than friendship. During one of your subtle glances though you caught Tara openly staring at you. You dropped your pen, turning with the intention to ask if everything was okay when she leaned forward, grabbing you by the back of the head and pulling you into a kiss.

You instantly reciprocated the kiss, turning your body to fully face her. You brought up both of your hands, running them through her hair. You could feel her smile into the kiss as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss even more.

You broke away, lightly laughing when you needed air. You shyly looked at Tara, despite the fact that you had just been making you, you saw her wearing the same smile as you.

“Sorry,” she said. “I waited so long, and it didn’t seem like you were ever going to make a move.”

You silently laughed, nodding before pulling her in for another kiss. You repositioned so you were kneeling on the couch, Tara doing the same. She started to slip your jacket off, neither of you breaking the kiss. You were both so caught up you didn’t hear the door open. You didn’t break apart until someone angrily cleared their throat, followed by a loud door slam.

You both jumped apart. You pulled your jacket back on, clearing your throat as if you hadn’t just been caught doing what you were about to do. You glanced towards the door to see Tara’s sister fuming.

“Sam,” Tara said, trying to sound casual. “You’re home early. How was therapy?”

You didn’t move, you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Sam. You had just been making out with Tara and now her sister was home and blocking your only path out. She hadn’t acknowledged her sister in any way, she just continued to glare at you.

“Get out,” is the only thing Sam said.

You quickly shot to your feet, throwing your stuff into your bag, and swinging the strap over one shoulder, not bothering to zip the bag up. You turned to Tara, smiled, and gave a thumbs up, then quickly scurried out of the apartment as Sam stepped out of the way, opening the door for you. You didn’t turn back but you could feel Sam’s burning gaze in the back of your skull. She hadn’t stopped glaring at you to this day.

You were brought back to the present when you heard Tara gasp and saw her eyes widen. You turned back to the TV and saw it.

“Holy shit,” you said, leaning forward to make sure you were seeing correctly. “That’s our film studies professor.”

The news reporter continued, saying how your professor was found stabbed to death in an alley. Then went on to say that the knife used was found in Jason’s apartment with his prints on it.

“Damn, I guess class is cancelled next week,” you said. You turned to say something else, but Tara was giving you a deadpanned look while Sam was once again glaring at you. You really needed to learn to shut up sometimes.

“We’re leaving, pack your stuff,” Sam announced, breaking her silence for the first time.

“Wait, what?” Tara asked. “We don’t even know if this has anything to do with us. It’s Halloween, there are thousands of people dressed up.” Tara tried to find any excuse to not leave. She turned back to you with a worried look. “Quinn!” she quickly turned to her roommate. “Call your dad, see what he knows.”

Quinn nodded, pulling out her phone. Before Quinn could start the call though another phone rang. Everyone in the room froze. All heads turned to Sam as she fished out her phone from her back pocket.

Tara moved closer to her sister, looking down at the phone. They both just stared at it in Sam’s hand as it continued to ring, no one moving to answer it.

“Ooh,” you said excited, jumping up from the couch. You reached out making a grabby hand already. “Give me the phone, I’m great at pissing people off.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Sam mumbled. You pouted but took the phone. She didn’t hand it to you, but she made no move to stop you.

“Hello?” you asked, a smile playing at your lips.

There was heavy breathing on the other end before, “You’re not Samantha.”

“No, sorry, she can’t come to the phone right now. May I take a message?”

“Put Samantha on the phone. I want to play a game with her.”

“Really?” you scrunched up your nose, looking towards Sam. “Have you met her? She’s not much fun.” Sam glared at you. “However, I’m much more fun. I love playing games, especially with her sister.” You winked at Tara who switched to glaring at you as well. You smiled, trying to keep in your laugh.

“Give Samantha the phone or my knife will find a home in your heart.”

“Sorry, my heart is already taken.” You winked at Tara again. She stopped glaring at you but only to roll her eyes at your antics.

“Don’t worry I’ll make sure to carve it out and deliver it her.”

“Well, I have always said the best presents come from the heart.”

“Stupid girl, do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

“Let’s see, late night phone call, death threats, ominous creepy sounding voice,” you mumbled off. You tilted your head as if you were thinking really hard about who could possibly be on the phone.

“You really have a death wish, don’t you child?”

“Wait wait wait,” you said excitedly. “Wait, am I talking to the one and only Ghostface?” You paused, furrowing your brow as your eyes left the group of friends and drifted up to the ceiling in thought. “Well technically there’s usually two of you and technically you’re like the,” you started silently counting, using your fingers to keep track, “the tenth one? Whatever, anyway, it’s an honor.”

“I will gut you,” Ghostface growled out.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. Can I make a request about my death?” You turned to your friends who were watching you with curious looks, waiting to see what you’d do next. “Just make sure I suffer. I don’t want to go out easy.” You started pacing, your friends now going from curious to concerned. Even Sam seemed concerned, it brought a small smile to your face, maybe this was how you won her over.

“My knife will carve out your insides.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered shyly. “Who told you I was into knife play?”

You turned back to your friends when you heard a cough only to see Chad choking on his water. Mindy was smacking her brother on the back to help him out. He seemed to be trying to keep the water in his mouth through the coughing, but he was clearly failing as the water finally sprayed out of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as Chad doubled over in a coughing fit. Sam and Tara ignored him as they continued to watch you.

“Has anyone ever told you how irritating you are?” Ghostface asked. He was using a voice changer, but you could swear he sounded tired.

“I’m an acquired taste,” you said. You shot your girlfriend a glare as you caught her nodding in agreement. She stopped when she caught your glaring, smiling innocently and mouthing ‘love you’. “Now for my death,” you continued, getting back to the important stuff. “Remember, slow and painful. I’m not just some side character.” You spun around pointing your finger even though you weren’t facing Ghostface. Though when you thought about it, he was probably watching you. “I’m not just some character that’s written off with a quick death. No, I’m the memorable bitch. I might not be the main but I’m the death you remember, you feel me?”

There was a long silence as you waited for his response. Your friends all leaned closer waiting for what would happen next even though they could only hear your side of the conversation. You furrowed your eyebrows when it had been over twenty seconds of silence.

“Hello? Hello?” you asked, pulling the phone away from your ear to look at the screen. “Hmm,” you hummed, tilting your head at the blank screen. “He hung up.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you turned back to your friends. You held out your hand, handing the phone back to Sam as you saw the shocked expressions of your friends. Everyone was staring at you wide eyed and mouths agape.

“So, does this mean I won or that I’m gonna die even more horribly than originally planned?” You asked. You raised your eyebrows waiting for a response as they continued to stare at you.

“You got Ghostface to hang up on you,” Mindy said in disbelief.

You shrugged. “I just have a way with some people.”

“Okay, I think it’s time we called it a night,” Sam said, pushing off from the dining table she had been leaning against.

“Can Y/N stay the night?” Tara asked, coming to stand by you.

You smiled as Tara wrapped her arms around your mid-section. You quickly put an arm around her, you would never turn down a hug and potential cuddles. You looked up at Sam with a smile. Sam shot you a tired glare, but you kept the smile on.

“Tara,” Sam groaned. “One phone call doesn’t mean I like her.”

You lost your smile, pouting at the older Carpenter. You had thought you did pretty good with the phone call. You had actually kind of enjoyed it, minus all the death threats you got.

“But she’s in danger now,” Tara argued. “If we send her back to her dorm alone then Ghostface can attack her and after that phone call he’s going to kill her horribly and painfully.”

“Wait what?” You asked, you head going back and forth between your girlfriend and her sister.

Sam tilted her head, raising her eyebrows slightly. Her head bounced around as she seemed to debate Tara’s words. You swallowed, gripping Tara a little tighter as you pulled her closer to you. You knew Sam wasn’t the biggest fan of you, but you didn’t think when it came down to your life that it was actually up for debate.

“Sam!” Tara snapped when it seemed like Sam had started to lean more towards sending you on your way.

Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. She had a small smile on her face, a smile she tended to only reserve for Tara when she was messing with her. “Alright, fine,” Sam said. “She can stay the night.” Sam lost her smile as she turned her attention back to you. She slowly made her way closer, glaring at you without blinking. “No funny business,” she pointed her finger threateningly at you. “Or I will throw you out.”

You nodded your head rapidly, letting out a small sigh of relief. Sam smiled sweetly as she turned away from you to face the others, but you could still see the lingering threat in her eyes. You shifted, tightening your grip on Tara again. She looked up at you smiling and despite just being threatened by her sister you couldn’t help but smile back. You were excited to be able to cuddle your girlfriend all night without the worries of waking up early to sneak out.

“Do you guys want to stay as well?” Sam asked the rest of the group.

“Nah, we’re good,” Chad said.

Sam nodded and walked them to the door. Chad and Ethan left, followed by Mindy and Anika who were wrapped up in a hug. Sam instantly got to locking the various locks on the door. Quinn pushed off her chair and went to her room with only a wave as a goodnight.

“Wait,” you said, causing Sam and Tara to look at you. “How much danger am I actually in?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I’m going to bed,” is all she said. She walked past you and Tara and made her way to her room. “Goodnight!” she called out, giving a final wave of her hand before you heard the room to her door close.

“But seriously, am I next?” you shrieked, leaning back to look Tara in the eye.

Tara bobbed her head back and forth, opening her mouth to say, “Well-”

“Oh god!”

“Baby don’t worry,” Tara placed a hand on your chest in an attempt to comfort you. “I’ll protect you. For now,” she moved out of your embrace, moving her hand down until she could intertwine it with yours. “Let’s enjoy this rare occasion of you not having to sneak out and go cuddle.”

You succeeded in your goal to piss off Ghostface it seemed. Your life was in even more danger than it was before by just dating Tara, Sam willingly allowing you to stay the night at the apartment confirmed that. Though you were reasonably terrified of your potentially upcoming death you couldn’t focus on that. The girl you were crazy about was standing before you and asking you to cuddle. You wordlessly nodded, allowing her to drag you to her room. You would never deny her after all.

[unicornjoking1111]

Success story from Neville Goddard's book (The Law and the promise) (chapter: there is no fiction)

*this is not my work but a copy paste from Neville's book*

Spoiler alert!!! *this story is really amazing! its about a 19 year old dancing teacher who didn't believe in imagination but took up the challenge to owning a studio (Arthur Murray dance studio franchise) to making it much bigger and meeting Arthur Murray himself*

As my story begins at the age of nineteen I was a mildly successful dancing teacher and continued in this static state for almost five years. At the end of this time I met a young lady who talked me into attending your lectures. My thought, upon hearing you say ‘Imagining creates reality’, was that the entire idea was ridiculous. However, I decided to accept your challenge and disprove your thesis. I bought your book ‘Out of This World’ and read it many times. Still unconvinced, I set myself a rather ambitious goal. My present position was as an instructor with the Arthur Murray Dance Studio and my goal was to own a franchise and be boss of an Arthur Murray studio myself! “This seemed the most unlikely thing in the world as franchises were extremely difficult to secure, but on top of this fact, I was completely without the necessary funds to begin such an operation. Nevertheless. I assumed the feeling of my wish fulfilled as night after night, in my imagination, I went to sleep managing my own studio. Three weeks later a friend called me from Reno, Nevada. He had the Murray Studio there and said it was too much for him to cope with alone. He offered me a partnership and I was delighted; so delighted, in fact, that I hastened to Reno on borrowed money and promptly forgot all about you and your story of Imagination!

“My partner and I worked hard and were very successful, but after a year I was still not satisfied, I wanted more. I began thinking of ways and means to get another studio. All my efforts failed. One night as I retired, I was restless and decided to read. As I looked through my collection of books I noticed your slender volume, ‘Out of This World’. I thought of the ‘silly nonsense’ I had gone through one year ago before getting my own studio. GETTING MY OWN STUDIO! The words in my mind electrified me! I reread the book that night and later, in my imagination, I heard my superior praise the good job we had done in Reno and suggest we acquire a second studio as he had a second location ready for us if we desired to expand. I re-enacted this imaginal scene nightly without fail. Three weeks from the first night of my imaginal drama, it materialized — almost word for word. My partner accepted the new studio in Bakersfield and I had the Reno Studio alone. Now I was convinced of the truth of your teaching and never again will I forget. “Now I wanted to share this wonderful knowledge — of imaginal power with my staff. I tried to tell them of the marvels they could accomplish, but I was unable to reach many although one fantastic incident resulted from my efforts to tell this story. A young teacher told me he believed my story but said it would have probably happened anyway in time. He insisted the entire theory was nonsense but stated that if I could tell him something of an incredible nature that would actually happen and which he could witness — then he would believe. I accepted his challenge and conceived a truly fantastic test. “The Reno Studio is the most insignificant in the entire Murray system because of the small population count in the city itself. There are over three hundred Murray Studios in the country with much larger populations, therefore providing greater possibilities to draw from. So, my test was this. I told the teacher that within the next three months, at the time of a national dance convention, the little Reno Studio would be the foremost topic of conversation at that convention. He calmly stated this was quite impossible. “That night when I retired, I felt myself standing before a tremendous audience. I was speaking on ‘Creative Imagining’ and felt the nervousness of being before such a vast audience; but I also felt the wonderful sensation of audience acceptance. I heard the roar of applause and as I left the stage, I saw Mr. Murray, himself come forward and shake my hand. I re-enacted this entire drama night after night. It began to take on the ‘tones of reality’ and I knew I had done it again! “My imaginal drama materialized down to the last detail. “My little Reno Studio was the ‘talk’ of the convention and I did appear on that stage just as I had done in my imagination. But even after this unbelievable but actual happening, the young teacher who threw me the challenge remained unconvinced. He said it had all happened too naturally! And he was sure it would have happened anyway!

“I did not mind his attitude because his challenge had given me another opportunity to prove, at least to myself, that Imagining does Create Reality. From that time on, I continued with my ambition to own the ‘largest Arthur Murray Dance Studio in the world’! Night after night, in my imagination, I heard myself accepting a studio franchise for a great city. Within three weeks Mr. Murray called me and offered a studio in a city of one and a half million people! It is now my goal to make my studio the greatest and biggest in the entire system. And, of course, ‘I know it will be done — through my Imagination’!” …E.O.L., Jr.

[koifishscribbles]

Is it a sneak peek of Chapter 11 to make myself feel better about how slow I am writing? Perhaps….

Just in case you haven’t read my 80k stsg slowly burn…

Below is an upcoming Gojo+ first year trio fluff

“You look as good as the day I met you

I forget just why I left you, I was insane

Stay and play that Blink-182 song

That we beat to death in Tucson, OKAY!”

Satoru belts out the last note like it’s his fucking job. It absolutely isn’t, no one would ever pay to him to screech off key Chainsmokers lyrics unless he was facilitating torture. However, in this case he’s taken it on himself to inflict as much harm as he can to the three teenagers in his vehicle, so he lets his voice warble. Louder is always better.

“Please stop!” Yuuji groans, sinking further into the backseat as if he can escape the broken notes if he borrows deep enough into the leather.

“We ain't ever getting olDER!” Is the surrender that grinds against Satoru’s vocal cords as he bounces a finger flamboyantly around the car pointing to each of the kids on what he assumes is the beat.

“This is sooooo messed up,” Yuuji mutters, then sticks a hand on the shoulder of the passenger seat in front of him. “All we did was try and help our sick friend.”

“If he points that finger in my direction again and I’m gonna bite him,” Nobara huffs under her breath.

“Gross—“

“First off,” Satoru drones over the next shitty pop song. “I am a fantastic singer— You’re welcome for the free concert by the way— Second off, Choso found you in a dinner. Megumi wasn’t sick—“

Megumi butts in, talking over him. “But I wasn’t eating anything!”

“Doesn’t matter! They skipped school. You ran off, no one knew where any of you were.” His hand flops around like a dying fishing as continues to point at his students. “We adults can’t trust you to get yourself to school anymore, so you’re stuck with me and in-car concerts dedicated directly to you.”

“This has gotta be against the Genoa Convention or something.”

The music drones hollowly over the engine before Satoru prompts “Yuuji?” Megumi stirs in the seat next to him to twist around.

“Yeah?” From the rearview mirror, Satoru sees that Yuuji’s eyes are cast out the window, unbothered and unaware that everyone is now staring at him.

“Geneva.”

“What about it?” He ask.

“Moron!” Announces Nobara.

“You mean Geneva, Yuuji,” Megumi states, peeping through the gap between the headrest and the seat. “It’s The Geneva Convention. Genoa is a Salami.”

“What’s it matter?” Yuuji frown, kicking his book bag at his feet, “it’s all just European bullshit.”

“I’m snitching!” Satoru sing-songs. “I’m telling Namani you’re talking crap on his culture.”

“Nanami’s Danish.” Megumi scoffs. “Genoa is Italian and Geneva is—“

No one notice the song fade out, but it takes Satoru one note for him to howl out: “OH MY GOD!” over Megumi as he turns the volume dial up higher breaking into the open vocalizations of Gwen Stefani’s “Sweet Escape.”

He doesn’t hear the complaints of the kids over the sound of the music and the gentle buzz in his pocket that thrums into his veins. Suguru had appeared in his doorway at the end of yesterday’s school day, as he was trying to drag up some anger to chew Megumi out for running off when he was supposed to be at home resting. The man didn’t even need to open his mouth. Satoru saw the way he rocked on his heals with his thumbs hooked in his pockets to keep his hands from fidgeting. Suguru wanted something, and Satoru was ready to give it to him instantly offering up any evening for a dinner together.

Suguru had actually only needed another copy of the worksheet. He spilt coffee on the other one. But the blush that smeared across his cheeks told Satoru that he didn’t make the wrong choice.

“And I could be your favorite girl

Forever, perfectly together

And tell me, boy, now wouldn't that be sweet?”

[thefaeryscribe]

I'm covering a whole series this time rather than a single book. That's because this time I want to talk about Hakumei & Mikochi, a manga series about two tiny friends and their day-to-day lives. Cozy books have been gaining in popularity lately, and to me, there's nothing more cozy than picking up a volume of Hakumei & Mikochi.

It was first published in Japanese in 2013, with an English edition following in 2018 (and I'm so glad it did!) Since then, a volume a year has been published pretty steadily. Volume 12 just released in Japanese in January 2024, while Volume 11 just released in English the same month.

I don't read a lot of manga. Every now and then a story might catch my eye and I'll give it a try, but I still prefer novels overall. The first volume of this series was one such time where I liked the premise and decided to give it a chance.

By the time I finished the first volume, I knew I needed to get the second one, and the third...

Now, about the series itself. It is exactly what it presents itself to be: a cozy, slice-of-life series about the two title characters (and some of their friends). Each chapter can be read as its own short story, though sometimes a single story may run for two chapters. (I'll add the caveat that the stories are in chronological order, so you won't want to skip around as previous stories are sometimes referenced.)

For those unfamiliar with slice-of-life stories, a chapter can follow a character on a typical work day, or helping out a friend with a task, or taking a trip into the city.

Some major defining story elements: Hakumei and Mikochi are part of a race of tiny people—think "Thumbelina" or The Borrowers. There are also several animal characters. The series has a lot of funny moments, some touching moments, and even a few moments that moved me to tears on this latest read-through.

At this point, it is a tradition for me to begin my yearly re-read some time in January, leading up to the release of the newest volume. I consider this series among my favorite books, and always look forward to spending a weekend or two immersed in Hakumei and Mikochi's world.

One final note: for those unfamiliar with manga, the series follows the traditional Japanese format, meaning you read the books from right to left.

Links:

Bookshop.org: Volume 1

Amazon: Volume 2

Amazon: Volume 3

Amazon: Volume 4

Amazon: Volume 5

Amazon: Volume 6

Amazon: Volume 7

Amazon: Volume 8

Bookshop.org: Volume 9

Bookshop.org: Volume 10

Bookshop.org: Volume 11

And for those who read Japanese: Volume 12 (The English edition should release early next year.)

[zeldinesmusic]

Choosing a song is so hard because I have playlists piled up with music I love dearly... so I just put it on shuffle and the next song I encountered is:

Two years ago I found this song. I was listening to glass animals as I liked 'Take a Slice', which I will definitely talk about later.

I like how you become submerged in this song. It starts out so quietly and slowly becomes louder and louder, though still vol van volume. This song too has so much meaning behind the lyrics which is pretty clear by just looking at the text. There are still hidden meanings and messages.

Dave Bayley, singer of Glass Animals, mentioned in a facebook post that Agnes is his favourite song of this album. The lyrics weren't hard to write, rather fitting in references to the returning theme of the natural cycle of life took the most time. The song is very personal to the band. It was later confirmed that the song is written around a friend of the band comitting suicide, which made the song painful and hard to perform live. It meant a lot to the band when they saw the pure and positive response of their fans. It was actually the motivation of their next album, dreamland, where they dared to write about their own experience and feelings.

The song starts with the name of the main person in this story, Agnes. The name means 'holy' or 'pure' which is very ironic since Agnes smokes and uses drugs. The first verse asks Agnes to take it slow and looks back at the very beginning, when the smoking and drug abuse started. It then explains how Agnes feels when high, "your breath is so numb, that nervous breath you try to hide".

The second verse starts out with "you see the sad in everything". It explains how Agnes is depressed, with that being one of the (or maybe the biggest) reasons why he is taking drugs.

My favourite part of the song are the lines: "guess life is long, when soaked in sadness. On borrowed time from Mister Madness. And so it goes [..]". Agnes felt like he was ready to die. He was living longer than he felt he was supposed to. Living on borrowed time. At the same time though, when living on borrowed time the end comes quick, thus "from Mister Madness".

The next four words proves that Agnes has died at this time of the song. In the book 'Slaughterhouse 5' by Kurt Vonnegut the lines "so it goes" are always said after a death. In an old instagram post Dave Bayley mentioned 'one of the tracks references the excellent book Slaughterhouse 5'.

The last lines are about the narrator, friend, telling us how it feels to lose Agnes. They still think about him and feel confused, not expecting the way they feel lost.

This song tells a painful story in a beautiful way. Truly a small masterpiece in my eyes, and the start of a great switch in Glass Animals to realize it is okay to talk about their own experience and emotions.

[woveninyournerves]

[The first image shows shows a book review handwritten in a journal with a blue and gold background. The book review is a very condensed version of this blog.] 

[The second image shows a panel of Demon Slayer in black and white featuring the calico cat, Chachamaru saying “MEOW”] 

Demon Slayer Vol 1 - 23 

[Kimetsu no Yaiba]

Author: Koyoharu Gotouge 

Started: October 24, 2022 

Finished: January 19, 2025

Pages: 4,496 (entire series) 

Format: Print, borrowed from sibling 

Released: July 2018 - January 2022 

Publisher: VIZ Media

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 4.5/5 (4.68 on goodreads, 4.58 on StoryGraph) 

Genres: Manga, fantasy 

Plot: Set in Taisho-era Japan, Tanjiro Kamado faces a horrific tragedy: his family is attacked by a demon and his sister Nezuko has been turned into one. In an effort to help Nezuko turn back into a human and to seek revenge on the demon who wronged his family, Tanjiro joins the Demon Slayer Corp. Here he finds rigorous training, fierce battles, moving friendships, and lots of heartache and beauty. 

Dislikes: The only reason this series got a 4.5 instead of a 5 from me is due to its lack of clarity. I found some scenes confusing, especially events happening during combat. This could be user era, as I have read only a small amount of manga so I am not extremely familiar with the format and also have eyesight that is not the greatest. However, there were a few times when I was not certain what had just happened and had to go to the trusty internet to be sure I understood. Another issue that I personally had is that the combat scenes sometimes were great, but sometimes they felt too drawn out and boring. I am not a big lover of combat so this may just be my preference, but the story was so good these issues were not that big of a deal. 

Likes: This was a very moving story about the bonds between people: family, siblings, friends, community, strangers, ancestors. I am personally a huge crybaby, so take this with a grain of salt, but several chapters had me crying. The characters were all amazing! I loved collecting everyone’s backstories, even the villains. This series also is super easy to read and very quick to get through. It only took me about 30 minutes to read each volume. The only reason it took me so long to get through it is because I was borrowing the copies from my brother who lives in another state. The books are also very funny in many places and silly. I love all of the author’s side notes. I also really enjoy the art style and character stylization. 

Favorite Character(s): I absolutely cannot choose. I love everyone! It is hard to write about why I love all of these characters with no major spoilers involved, so here are my vague depictions. Nezuko, for being so kind, persistent, and all-around badass. Zenitsu for being both hilarious and relatable. Inosuke for being also hilarious and … beautiful. Urokodaki is such a great character and I adore both his huge heart and his cloud kimono. Makomo for being so kind and dreamy. Shinobu for being a total badass and possessing such unique abilities, talent, and strength. Kanroji for being so bubbly, loving, and authentic. Tokito for his storyline and devotion. Aoi because she gets it done, in her own strange caring way. Tanjiro for being so good. If I had to pick, my top three favorite characters are Kanao, Tamayo, and the obvious hero of the story, Chachamaru. Kanao has such a great story and she is so determined and brave. Tamayo is probably the most badass of all and such a cool character. I love her so much! Chachamaru is an adorable cat, with a huge impact. 

Favorite Moment(s): Again, hard to go in depth with no spoilers. I gave my highest ratings on goodreads to Vol 6 and Vol 18. Outside of particular volumes, I most enjoyed the rehabilitation training, entertainment district, and swordsmith village arcs the most. 

Other Notes: Since reading this series, I have also been watching the anime and I actually like the anime better! I 100% suggest both. The anime has some really beautiful shots and lots more depth. I have been watching it in Japanese with English subtitles which caused me to take an interest in Japanese and am now also very slowly learning the language. I also highly suggest learning Japanese because it is very fun! I am a total baby with manga and anime. I think this is only the 2nd manga I have ever read, and actually the first anime! Please suggest more to me!!! My brother is already recommending me lots of others. He is the one that suggested I check out Demon Slayer and has been a fan since the beginning. I highly suggest this series, whether reading or watching. I enjoyed reading some chapters and then watching the anime up to that point to further illustrate the story. Has anyone read any of the other extra Demon Slayer books? What was your opinion? I will likely read those as well. Thank you for any readers, I would love to hear your thoughts! I hope everyone is feeling safe and warm this evening. Love to you all.

[linkspooky]

BSD VS LITERATURE: NO LONGER HUMAN

The second entry in my long running series to analyze every single book referenced in Bungou Stray Dogs, to try piece together the author’s intended meaning in referencing the work. 

Osamu Dazai’s ability name comes from the author’s final novel “No Longer Human”, you may have heard of it. The novel contains several events from the author’s real life, but is considered semi-autobiographical because it depicts the life of a fictional character “Yozo” who much like the real life author attempted suicide a total of five times in his life before utlimately succeeding. Many believe the book to be his will as Dazai killed himself shortly after the last part of the book was published. As for the connection to the fictional character, more under the cut. 

1. Disqualified from Being Human

Dazai as a character borrows several traits from Yozo the protagonist of the novel. He has the same habit of clowning and engaging others in a false persona, while it happens mostly offscreen the audience and Dazai’s coworkers are aware of the fact he regularly indulges himself in vices like drinking, having illicit relationships with women (its often referenced he has a long line of exes and women he’s left upset over him) and that he’s also constantly in debt. 

Deeper than those surface level traits though, Dazai shares the same motivation as Yozo for his antics. They are both people who feel utterly alienated from the people around them, unable to connect with their thoughts and feelings and because of that they resort to always engaging them in a false, and comedic facade. They are fundamentally uncomfortable with ever presenting their true selves around others. 

As a child I had absolutely no notion of what others, even members of my own family, might be suffering from or what they were thinking. I was aware of my own unspeakable fears and embarrassments. Before anyone realized it, I had become an accomplished clown, a child who never spoke a single word. No Longer Human. 

Dazai is described as a child in the same way by Oda, who is arguably the character who knows him best. Even with Oda though, and the rest of the Buraiha trio as a whole though they were friends it carries the tragedy that they never were truly honest with one another, Oda never overstepped the clear boundaries between him and Dazai, Ango never let either of them into the secret that he was a government spy all along. Even that friendship which Dazai found comfortable, and was so significant to him he changed his entire life’s past around Oda’s dying words, he still placed an uncilimbable wall between the two of them. 

“I thought you were similiar to Dazai at first, rushing into battle and wishing for death without even considering the value of your own life. But he’s different. He’s sharp witted, with a mind like a steel trap. And he’s just a child - a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier than the one we’re seeing.”

He was too smart for his own good. That was why he was always alone. The reason why Ango and I were unable to be by his side was that we understood the solitude that surrounded him, and we never stepped inside no matter how close we stood. 

But in that moment I kind of regretted not stepping in and invading that solitude. Bungo Stray Dogs, Volume 2. 

There’s a supposed difference in Yozo, who is a drunken layabout constantly in debt who fails out of college and Dazai the super genius who is apparently one of the smartest members of the cast, but honestly if you peel back the layers of Dazai’s “Superhuman / Godlike Genius” status his and Yozo’s behaviors and treatment of other people is actually pretty similar. 

Here is the secret of No Longer Human that a lot of readers miss in their interpretation. While Yozo can be a sympathetic character, because he’s genuinely miserable in his life, and the way he tells his story is highly relatable to the unhappiness of many readers, Yozo sucks. 

If you look at his actions outside of his self-pitying narration, Yozo is a serial manipulator of people, especially those with a status weaker than him in society (women, and even chidlren) he strings them along often taking money from them until he abandons them. Yozo is considered to be so pretty and likable, people often relate to his misery and give him what he wants without him giving anything in return.

There’s four major women he interacts with in the novel. A married women he gets to pay for his drinks a couple of times, doesn’t see for months, and then commits suicide with her. His reaction to her death is very minimal and he doesn’t even seem to mourn her. Then, he becomes a kept man for a woman with a child for awhile gets her to pay for his drinking habit, has multiple affairs on her while living at their house (or at least it’s implied).He also comes to view the child as an enemy of his. 

“I would like my real Daddy back.”  I felt dizzy with shock. An enemy. Was I Shigeko’s enemy, or was she mine?

No Longer Human.

He abandons them. (Surprise, surprise). Then moves on to marry a seventeen year old girl, specifically because she is a virgin. I probably don’t have to mention the predatory subtext there. 

Yoshiko’s pale face was smiling as she sat there inside the dimly lit shop. What a holy thing uncorrupted virginity is, I thought. I had never slept with a virgin, a girl younger than myself. I’d marry her. [...] I made up my mind on the spot: it was a then-and-there decision, and I did not hesitate to steal the flower. No Longer Human. 

That wife then gets raped and not only does Yozo feel little to no sympathy for her whatsoever, he then proceeds to just leave and abandon her because his image of her as a perfect image is ruined. He even refers to her as a possession he lost far earlier on in the novel. 

Once in a while, it is true I have experienced a vague sense of regret at losing something, but never strongly enough to affirm positively, or to contest with others my rights of possession. This was so true of me that some years later, I even watched in silence when my own wife was violated. No Longer Human.

The last woman he gets involved with only because he has a morphine addiction and he wants to string her along so she can keep supplying him with morphine. If you strip away the thin veneer of Dazai as a master manipulator and superhuman genius, you are just left with his actions which include his constant manipulation of other people (children younger and more vulnerable than him) and even his own allies. He is a user, much in the same way Yozo is. This is just named characters, it’s implied offscreen that Dazai has Yozo’s same habit of burning through relationships and women like jet fuel. 

Of course, there is a tragic reason for Yozo’s behavior it is implied he was violated by a female servant as a child, but that further adds onto the underlying point of the novel that Yozo’s genuinely miserable but he’s also the architect of his own misery. He is a victim who basically continues the cycle of abuse. His two primary methods of interacting with people is either manipulating them / stringing them along, or abandoning them. Even the Dazai who works at the agency keeps Akutagawa his biggest victim wearing the coat that Mori Gave him that represents the cycle of abuse just... wrapped around his little finger because it’s more convenient to use and dispose of him that way. 

Akutagawa’s so insanely devoted to Dazai that he believes being abandoned was just a secret little test and if he performs well than he’ll finally get the carrot that Dazai has been dangling in front of his head for a long time. Dazai’s treatment of Akutagawa as someone to just conveniently use and then dispose of is something that leads to Akutagawa getting himself killed trying to earn that praise. 

Dazai and Yozo have a similiar problem where they are pitiable in the fact they are victims themselves, they have been used in the past and it’s left them feeling alienated and unable to connect with others, but then they jump right into treating others as less than human too. Dazai has this strange paradox where he scolds Dostoevsky for believing in god and seeing himself as an agent of god or some kind of omniscient manipulator and that the real people who make a difference in the world are the people living in the world and struggling in it but Dazai... still doesn’t see himself as one of those people. Dazai’s like “You shouldn’t manipulate people like pieces on a gameboard...” but Dazai still views himself as one of the players sitting and watching things from on high rather than one of the pieces. 

Dazai and Yozo are incapable of seeing themselves as human beings and eternally feel like outsiders when they try to be around others. However, at the same time they give no respect to the humanity or the feelings of other people. They don’t treat others like humans. Which is why they are essentially the architects of their own misery, they are alone because they choose continually over and over to either only engage in other people with lives, or treat relationships as transactional. These flaws of Dazai’s have been toned down since the dark age, but even Detective Agency Dazai still has this habit of looking down on other people. He has good intentions he tries to live by, but also in crisis situations tends to fall back on old habits. 

2. Lover’s Suicide

Finally, there’s two relationships in the book that parallels Dazai’s two most significant relationships in the story. The tragedy of Oda in the dark era, actually mirrors what was Yozo’s most significant suicide attempt in the book. Yozo runs out of money and on a whim attempts to commit suicide with a married woman who had been more or less a longtime but distant acquiantance. 

We threw ourselves into the sea at Kamakura that night. She untied her sash saying she had borrowed it from a friend at the cafe, and left it folded neatly on a rock. I removed my coat and put it in the same spot. We entered the water together. 

She died. I was saved. No Longer Human. 

This event mirrors the defining tragedy of Dazai’s backstory as depicted in the second light novel, and his reason for leaving the mafia. Essentially, Dazai finally becomes close to someone his longtime acquaintance Oda, who unlike him has a reason to live in raising children and dreaming of one day becoming an author. However, by the end of the novel it’s Oda who commits suicide and Dazai who lives. 

“You’re such an idiot, Odasaku. The biggest idiot I know.”  “Yeah.” “You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to die.” “I know.” 

Bungo Stray Dogs, Vol. 2

If you want to sprinkle in an additional homosexual subtext what Oda basically does is commit a lover’s suicide with someone else, by choosing to die with Gide. Which means that not only does Dazai survive while Oda dies, but Oda chose to commit a lover’s suicide with someone other than him. 

Then there is Yozo’s acquiantance to longtime friend Horiki. HOriki is his only real significant friend in the novel, but Yozo absolutely despises him. Nothing healthy ever comes from their relationship, he gets Yozo addicted on cigarettes and alcohol, he drags him to secret communist meetings, however Yozo who frequently just abandons people never really gets rid of him. 

Horiki and myself. Despising each other as we did, we were constantly together, thereby degrading ourselves. If that is what the world calls friendship, the relationships between Horiki and myself were undoutably those of friendship. No Longer Human. 

The reason being that Yozo despite loathing Horiki senses that the two of them are alike in nature. There’s also something to be said about Yozo getting along more naturally with someone he hates, rather than the people in his life who constantly attempt to love him. 

Horiki and myself. Though outwardly he appeared to be a human being like the rest, I sometimes felt he was exactly like myself. No Longer Human. 

His relationship with Horiki reflects both the partnership of the double black duo, two individuals who loathe each other but had near perfect cooperation in their teamwork but also the foiling between Chuuya and Dazai. They are both people who do not view themselves as human, Chuuya because of the mystery of his origins as the host of Arahabaki and Dazai because his intelligence leaves him feelings isolated from the world. 

He looked up in the direction of the sudden voice. It was a familiar voice, one that belonged to the person he hated most in this world. 

Your birth itself was a mistake. We’re the same. Is there a really a point to suffering through all that pain for a life that isn’t real?” 

The voice was taunting him. 

[...]

“Screw you Dazi.”

Chuuya wanted nothing more than to slice off the ear the voice was whispering right into. He could see Dazai’s wavering shadow by his side, and he wanted to gauge out his eyes. 

“That’s just proof that you at least somewhat believe what I’m saying. Because deep down inside you’re the same as me.”

Like, they hate each other, but they hate each other for the real person they are deep down on the inside. Which results in him and Chuuya having an entirely antagonistic relationship and yet at the same time Chuuya is the one person that Dazai can’t really bullshit or lie to, because sharing so much in common gives Chuuya some insight into Dazai’s darker tendencies. 

Which results in a relationship where neither of them like each other, and yet both of them are just a little bit obsessed with each other. Despising each other and constantly together. 

So in summary, No Longer Human is a work about a character’s difficulty to form relationships with others because not only do they not see themselves as human they also treat the others around them as lesser than humans. Yozo is a character clearly stuck in that cycle of abuse, whereas Dazai Osamu himself is someone struggling in the story to break that cycle and curb his own manipulative tendencies inside of himself, ironically because of the close relatonship he had formed with the one person he was ever even a little bit honest with Odasaku. 

[starlightsearches]

Just saw your post for kinky prompts 👀 what do we think about hate-fucking Eddie 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Payback

Kinky Prompts

My friend, we think veeeeerrrry favorably about being hate-fucked by Eddie! Thank you for sending this in 💖 Requests are open; comments, likes and reblogs make me soooooooooooooooo happy!

Eddie Munson x Virgin! Femme! Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, PIV sex, protected sex, spanking, virginity kink (kind of), corruption kink (kind of), fingering (f), orgasm delay (f), clothed sex, crying during sex, a little tender for hate-fucking whoops but i contain multitudes, mentions of canon-typical violence, language, season 4 volume 1 spoilers!

"You know you don't have to babysit me, right?"

Eddie pops around the corner from one of the bedrooms, awake from his third nap of the day and scratching at his skin under the collar of his hellfire shirt. The movement puts the top of a tattoo on display, but you can't identify it from this angle, not without catching the black collar in your finger and pulling it down a few more inches.

You tear your eyes from him, glancing at the windows out of habit, letting out a sharp breath through your nose. The curtains are still closed—just like the last time you checked—but his shadow could still be visible to someone passing by.

"It was Nancy's idea. Will you sit the fuck down?"

Eddie rolls his big dumb eyes, plopping down on the floor beside you. He keeps his long legs bent, pale knees poking from the rips in his jeans.

"Well at least you're not cranky about being stuck with me, princess. Because that would make my exile totally unbearable."

You meet his eyes, catch his mocking smile, and shift an inch to the side.

"First off, don't call me princess. Second, you smell like shit. When's the last time you showered?"

He huffs, pretending to think, chin cupped in his hand. "Probably around the last time you slept. If those bags under your eyes get any bigger they're gonna need their own zip code."

You just flash him your middle finger, resting your head against the cupboard and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your eyes. It's not like you've been trying to stay awake, but stress could do that to you. Every time you closed your eyes, your brain went into overdrive—imagining the yawning horror you'd feel finding your friends' bodies with their arms bent at odd angles and their eyes gouged out.

Eddie nudges you with his knee just as a shiver travels through you, denim he wears brushing against your bare thigh, repeating the movement over and over again until you look at him. He ignores the glare you give him.

"Seriously though, how long have you been awake? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I can manage not to burn the house down for a couple of hours without your constant supervision."

"Right," you scoff, "and when Jason and his friends show up to beat your ass, you can annoy them to death."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

The sun's just starting to set beyond the windows—his cue to stand without you yelling at him again—and he does, navigating the darkening kitchen with ease and grabbing a cereal box from the counter. "Out of curiosity, how are you planning on protecting me? Besides batting your eyelashes and bending over in that little skirt?"

"Something along those lines, yeah."

Eddie still doesn't know about the baseball bat you borrowed from Steve, hidden under the couch. As far as you're concerned, he doesn't need to.

"Good to know they'll all be rock hard when they kill me. Wouldn't have it any other way."

You make a face—maybe just to hide the way your eyes go wide at the idea of anybody being rock hard. "You're disgusting."

"So I've been told," he says, spraying a mouthful of honey comb, "by you, actually."

You just stare at him blankly, watching him chew as you replay the last few days. A lot had happened since you'd saw him threaten Steve with that busted bottle, and you'd called plenty of names during that time, but disgusting wasn't one of them. "No I haven't!"

He's not looking at you, admiring the silver glint of his rings, fingers splayed.

"You're friends did though," he says, quiet enough that you have to stand just to hear him, "and I don't remember you going out of your way to shut them up."

Oh. He's not talking about your friends—Steve and Dustin and the others. He's talking about your friends, the ones from before—the little clique of girls you ate lunch with every day for four years without really knowing each other at all.

"Whatever," you shrug, trying to brush off the accusation, sorting through the food Dustin had picked out to keep your hands busy, "that was high school."

He's unimpressed with your defense. "Okay, well you were a bitch in high school."

It hasn't even been a year since your graduation, but the person you were then isn't someone you'd recognize anymore. Hearing him say that about you makes your stomach sink—remembering all the times you had been a bitch to Eddie and people like him. You'd never be able to take those moments back, no matter how often you and your new friends saved the world.

You do your best to hide the hurt, reaching for a handful of M&Ms. If defense wouldn't work, you'd have to go offensive.

"If we're gonna bring up high school, you fucking started it."

Eddie leans in close under the guise of snatching some of the chocolate from your hand, warm fingers dancing over the skin of your palm.

"How'd I do that?" he asks with mock sincerity. Your heart races watching the movement of his dark pink lips.

"You know . . . you were always kicking my chair in Mrs. Click's class, and sticking chewed gum in my notebook when I turned to talk with Jared or Ashley, and- and whatever."

You can't look at him and talk at the same time. Not when he's got a few strands of hair caught up in his ridiculously long eyelashes, luring you into the warm center of his gaze, trying to trap you there.

He brushes some of the hair out of his eyes, sliding a little closer, chest pressed up against your shoulder. His skin is warm enough you can feel it through his shirt. His voice gets throatier when he whispers.

"How else was I guy like me supposed to get your attention?"

The M&Ms are turning to mush in your palm, crunching a little when your fist tightens involuntarily. You drop the chocolatey glob on the table, sliding away from him and facing the sink, hoping he couldn't feel the heat in your cheeks.

"You've made funnier jokes, Munson."

He just keeps talking, even with your back turned to him, spewing out shit that makes your whole body tense.

"Not a joke, babe. I've always had a thing for pretty girls with sticks up their asses. Figured somebody needed to fuck that attitude out of you."

You've got a death grip on the towel beside the sink, dripping little puddles all over the counter.

"I don't have anything up my ass," you mutter under your breath, as if a weak attempt like that would stop him when he's just getting started.

"—and I figured I could do the job, since those dickheads always drooling around you looked too stupid to fuck their way out of a paper bag—"

You just scrunch your nose, talking to yourself, "like I would know anything about that."

You're sure he won't notice your mumbled response, not when he's having such a good time talking to himself. And you're busy—in your own way—thinking about how many of those same dickheads had left you drunk in party bathrooms or alone in the woods on moonless nights when you'd shoved their hands away from your hemline one too many times.

"What?"

Eddie heard you, somehow—the one time you didn't want him to. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you do your best to change the subject. "Nothing. We really should talk about something else—"

"Wait, are you—?"—Eddie's sidled right beside you at the counter, leaning forward on both arms, smiling so fucking wide your hand itches to slap the smug look from his face— "Holy shit, are you a virgin?"

Fuck.

"I said I didn't want to talk about it!"

You throw the towel at him, but it just smacks against his chest with a disappointing thud, doing nothing to tone down your anger or the stinging embarrassment. "God, don't you ever shut up?"

He's totally immune to your little tantrum, taking one of your hands in his own, bringing it close to him, playing with your fingers.

He's got big hands. They practically swallow your own with no effort, the boar's head ring smiling up at you. You don't want to think about what they'd feel like touching you elsewhere, his huge, hot palms cupping your ass, spreading you apart with his ring-heavy fingers.

"Aw, baby," he coos, "if you wanted me to be your first, you could've just asked."

"Don't be delusional, Munson," you say, yanking your hand from his grip. It tingles a little where he's touched you, nerves deadened when they're not feeling him.

It's not like you cared that much about who was your first; it was always more about how. All those other losers had been fine with a quick fuck in the back of a car and you weren't about that. It's not like you expected candles and rose petals and shit—just a guy who'd at least try to get you off.

With the way he's looking at you now, Eddie's seeming more and more like the perfect candidate.

"Yeah, delusional, okay," Eddie's tone is sarcastic as he rolls his eyes, coming in close, seeing right through you like a piece of glass. His hair is brushing against your cheeks, hot breath on your neck, and your whole body responds, thighs pressing together, a thick swallow in your throat. He smells like cigarettes, with the faintest faded whiff cologne underneath the sharp sting of sweat. The more you have of it, the more you want.

There's something sinful reflected in his eyes when you look at him; it takes a second for you to recognize it's your own expression.

"Five bucks says you're wet for me right now."

He's surprised the sarcasm right out of you, reading you like that—leaving your voice weak and breathless, without your usual bite. "In your dreams, maybe."

"Oh yeah, all the time,—" the tips of his fingers brush against the outside of your thigh, "—but that's not what we're talking about here."

His palm is like a brand, pressed just above your knee, thick thumb stroking across your bare skin.

"Stop that," you whisper. Your throat burns with the smell of him.

He just cocks a brow. "You want me to?"

No. You won't say it—swallowing the word down and staring at him in silence—but you can't say yes, even if you don't mean it. He's the kind of guy who would actually stop if you did.

And you can't have him stop.

His hand curls into a fist against your skin until you lose contact with the cool metal of his rings. Eddie's expression is almost stern.

"I'm gonna need to hear you say it, princess."

The nickname doesn't bother you this time, stoking the heat at your core enough to loosen your tongue, just in case he might say it again. "No. I don't want you to stop."

The smile he gives you is worth your pride a hundred times over.

"Good girl."

Eddie's hand moves painfully slow, tips of his fingers brushing over goosebumps like he's trying to read braille, doe eyes staring down at you, gaze flickering towards your lips. It could be ironic that the one time you were desperate for a guy to rush through this part, the guy in question is determined to take his time.

It could be ironic, if it wasn't so fucking infuriating.

"Eddie," you say—way too desperate—but he just smiles at the shift of your hips as you take the last inch between his fingers and the soaked fabric of your panties by force.

Fuck, he feels good between your thighs—even just this part of him. He strokes his fingers back and forth, pinching a little at your covered pussy, laughing at the gasping sound you make when one of his rings catches against your clit.

You don't even care that it was this easy for him. You couldn't give less of a fuck.

He's got dimples in his cheeks from the grin he wears. "I'm flattered, sweetheart. This all for me?"

He's still stroking you, a smooth back and forth with his long, beautiful fingers. It's hard to form words anymore.

"Sh- shut up."

"About this?" His hips are harsh against yours, "uh-uh, never. I'm never gonna shut up about this wet. fucking. pussy."

He's breathing hard, gripping roughly at your cunt, punctuating each word with a brush against your clit, the tip of one finger past your lips and stroking along your entrance. Even through the cotton it makes you squirm, the feel of the soft, wet fabric almost too much for your sensitive cunt.

Your clumsy hands meet at his belt buckle, just resting there, arms jellied by the way he's touching you.

"Eddie."

He's got his ear pressed up against your cheek, a few of his flyaways sticking to the sweat on your temples. It's good he's so close or he might not be able to hear you at all.

"Yeah?" His chest heaves, arm muscles tight where they press against your stomach. When you lean back enough to meet his eyes, he's got his tongue caught between his teeth.

"I don't—fuck—I don't have five dollars."

"What?"

He actually stops his assault on your pussy for just a moment, and you breathe a soft laugh. It's nice to know you're not the only one who can be caught of guard.

"The bet. I owe you five—"

The thrust of his hips cuts off the end of your sentence, alarm bells ringing in your head. He hadn't been carrying anything in his pockets, as far as you knew—no switchblade or flashlight or a fucking cucumber by the feel of it. Which could only mean one thing.

Eddie Munson is rock fucking hard. For you.

His hand still cups your pussy as the other takes you by the neck, palm easily spanning your entire jaw and there's no chance you'd even think about fighting him when he guides you closer to his lips.

"I think we can work something out."

Eddie's kisses are intoxicating—hot and wet and strong, putting a burn in your throat from the power behind it—body aching at the way he bends you, his jaw pressed tight against yours, guiding your body with every shift of his head. He's got his tongue past your open lips, tasting like cigarettes and sugary breakfast cereal and stale sleep and it's still got you weak at the knees.

Kissing Eddie is everything.

He's making little moaning noises against your lips, the pressure behind his hips denting your back against the counter, digging into you enough there might be print of his dick on your thigh when he pulls away. His hand has gone still as he's caught up in this kiss, and grinding down against his fingers isn't enough anymore for the gnawing heat in your cunt.

You pull back, turning your head a little to the side when he chases after your lips.

"Fuck me, Eddie."

Even in the fading light, you can see how dark Eddie's eyes have become—already deep irises swallowed by black pupils.

"Really?"

His adam's apple bobs with a harsh swallow, like he didn't even think it would get to this point. You don't have time to worry about the statistical likelihood of a situation where you'd be begging Eddie Munson to fuck you—not with the way your pussy is throbbing.

"God, Eddie. Yes."

The muscles in his throat tense, thin blue veins distended, and if he's nervous taking control, he doesn't show it. You, on the other hand, are shaking like a fucking leaf.

"Bend over," he tells you, and you comply without comment—just grateful you don't have to make any of these decisions yourself—stretching out long, arms at an angle against the wall and chest flat against the table top.

There's the heat of his body against your thighs as Eddie steps closer, hips looming behind you, just out of reach. The fabric of your skirt is shifted out of the way, bunched up around your waist, and then Eddie's broad palm cups your ass, thumb achingly close to your core again, whispered touch moving closer, closer, the flat of his thumb pressed against your dripping hole. His other hand reaches for the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down roughly over your hips with the scrape of his rings until they fall to your ankles, leaving you totally bare.

And then you feel the harsh smack of his hand against the swell of your cheek, hips forced into the counter and a low moan on your lips.

You're still reeling when you turn back to look at him.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie!"

"Sorry, baby, but I had to," he laughs, untouched by your anger as always, looking a little endeared by the glare you send over your shoulder.

"You could warn me first," you grumble. Then maybe you could have done something about the mortifying sound you'd just made.

His fingers rub gently at the mark he must have left against your ass cheek, soothing the ache as he presses his chest against your back. "Where's the fun in that?"

He grins—face framed by wild hair, big eyes shining—and it mollifies you, but only slightly.

"Are you gonna fuck me or not?"

"Patience, baby," —he leans off you, reaching into his back pocket for a little silver-foiled packet—"safety first."

A fucking condom. You roll your eyes. "How long have you had that on you?"

"Since you told me you were staying. Rick keeps a bunch lying around—figured it couldn't hurt to be prepared."

So he's been thinking about fucking you for the past two days. You're not sure if that makes you more desperate or more annoyed.

You lay your head back down, rolling your eyes even though he can't see them at this angle. "You're an ass, Eddie Munson."

Not that you care, not with the sound of his zipper and the clink of his belt—which definitely make you hornier—the crinkle of the condom wrapper and the way you hear him spit a piece of the shiny foil onto the floor after opening it with his teeth.

With your cheek pressed to the table, you can't see what he's doing, shifting your hips side to side as you as you wait to feel him touch you again. It starts with a hand at your hip, pulling you against him, the white-hot pit in your stomach fueled by the feeling of his cock pressed between your ass cheeks, teasing you with a few soft strokes.

"You sure you want this?"

His other hand wraps around your waist, splitting your folds with his fingers, just barely petting across your clit. You can feel your pussy dripping for him.

"God, yes. Pl—"

He cuts you off, the end of the word lost in an ungodly moan as he presses the thick head of his cock past your messy entrance, and the stretch is already unreal—a searing sting that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your nails biting into your palms.

"Christ, baby, you're fucking tight," he says, with a hint of awe in his voice, sliding forward another inch, drunk on your little whimpered sounds.

You can't keep quiet as Eddie thrusts forward again, and again, and again, going until you're sure it would be impossible for him to have any dick left, cunt pulsing around him like its in cardiac arrest.

And then he gives you another inch.

"Fuck," —it's the only word you know anymore, the only thing you can think past the tremors running up and down your entire body, every brain cell you've got focused on the stunning pain stretching out your cunt, so full it's like you can feel the tip of him nudging at your lungs. "Fuck."

Eddie's not saying a word—a first for him—but you can tell he's thinking the same thing you are, can feel the letters F-U-C-K printed against your hip bones on the tips of his fingers. His breathing is loud and messy, shifting his hips just slightly until there's the soft slap of his balls against the backs of your thighs.

"Gotta, Jesus,"—two of Eddie's fingers press down against your clit, and you whine, wiggling a little at the feeling until his other hand tightens against your hips, "gotta loosen you up a little, baby. I'm 'bout to fuckin' bust."

He sandwiches you against the counter as he shifts forward to improve the angle of his fingers, circling your clit steadily. Your legs part, a little wider, hoping to make room for more of the feeling he's giving you.

"That's a good girl," Eddie groans.

You hadn't even noticed the way you'd been rocking your hips back against him, too absorbed by the feeling of his dick nudging at some shining point inside you, setting off fireworks behind your eyes with each brush.

He thrusts into you in earnest, and it's like you can hear the pop of your mind's pyrotechnics, the bass thudding in your chest, coming out of your mouth as long, throaty moans.

And Eddie must like those noises you're making, because it's got him pounding at you faster—slamming his whole dick into you hard enough to make the cupboards shake.

"Gonna ruin this fucking virgin pussy," he says, but you're not sure if you're meant to hear, or if it's a promise he's making to himself, "gonna ruin you for the next asshole who comes along."

"Fuck Eddie, I want you to . . . don't- don't want anybody else."

Jesus, where did that come from? Half an hour ago you were teetering on the edge of throttling him and now you're promising him a life-time unlimited supply of pussy.

If he replies, you can't hear him over your high-pitched whine as he pinches at your clit, strumming at you with his guitar-calloused finger tips.

"Gonna cum," you warn him, lashes fluttering at the way the heat is building in your gut and your pussy and your chest, building higher and higher, ready to take you.

Until he pulls back, totally still with his hands at your hips.

"Edddiiiieeeeeeeeeee."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. The feeling's gone, and no amount of whining is going to get it back, the opening of your cunt trembling and dripping and empty.

He shushes you, one hand at your neck, ring biting at your throat and the chain at his wrist brushing against your chin as he pulls you close. Fat tears blur your vision until he's one big, brown smudge of hair and pink skin.

"Can't make it too easy for you, honey," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your puffy lips. You blink the tears from your eyes.

"That was mean."

His chest shakes with laughter, and some of your spend smears across your cheek as he brushes a strand of hair back behind ear. "Let's consider it payback, princess. You wanna cum this time?"

I wanted to cum the last time, you think, but don't say it. He's fucked the antagonism right out of you. "Yes, please."

He kisses you, and the angle is awkward with you propped up on your hands, his tongue halfway down your throat as his other hand guides the head of his cock back to your throbbing entrance. He slides inside with ease.

It feels better with him this close, his thrusts shorter and slower but hitting you just right, hips slapping against yours, belt and chains jangling in time with the wet squelch of your cunt. It feels better when you can taste him, running the tip of your tongue along the edge of his teeth.

"You close again, baby?" he asks between sharp breaths. You nod, feeling hot, feeling used, thighs coated with your sticky wet cum, and body trembling in his grasp.

"Eddie," his name is like a cry on your lips, everything else stolen. You can't get the other words out, can't tell him that you feel it looming and it's heavier than the last time and it's strong enough to scare you, can't tell him that you don't know what's going to happen or who you'll be on the other side. "Eddie."

He's unphased, laughing, face mashed up against your cheek. "Tell me about it."

It takes you, fucking swallows you up and spits you out. Your whole body is pulsing, a ten on the Richter scale emanating from your pussy. Total devastation.

He thrusts into a few more times, fucking you through it, short bursts that make you whimper until the quaking stops and he groans, sliding from your cunt.

"God fucking damn," Eddie says, rattling around the kitchen, and you don't have a single brain cell left to wonder what he's doing, "how was that for your first time?"

It's a good question. You shift experimentally, aching in places you didn't know existed and numb everywhere else.

He's back at your side with a wet dish towel in hand. Eddie pets it gently between your legs, cleaning up everything sticky from your skin and your hair. You just hope Rick won't mind finding a towel covered in pussy juice in his house whenever he gets out of prison.

There's a soft look in Eddie's eyes as he cleans you up, tongue caught between his teeth, and it has you gnawing on your lips—a melty feeling in your chest no orgasm could cause.

"So . . . what happens now?"

You're not sure what you're hoping for—if you want him to kiss you, or tell you he'll fuck you whenever, no strings attached, or promise he'd never bring up the way you screamed for him ever again.

Actually, you know you don't want the last one. Beyond that, you're willing to take what you can get.

"Now," Eddie says, cupping your face in his hands, "you finally get some fucking sleep."

Maybe he's being stupid on purpose, saving your question for another time when you've got a little more mental prowess available and he's not being hunted for sport. Eddie leads you to Rick's bedroom, one hand at your waist, and your exhaustion hits you in a wave. You hadn't even realized how hard you'd been working to keep your eyes open.

The rest of you might be on the edge of sleep, but your suspicion is wide awake. "Did you only fuck me to tire me out?"

Eddie chuckles, crawling onto the big mattress and guiding you up with him, his body softer beneath yours in the darkness.

"Not only," he whispers, arms tight around your waist, "but I think it worked out alright."

You're breathing steadier already, having him here. There's no need to listen for him alive outside the door when you've got his heart beat beneath you. You'd never realized how much you worried about him whenever he was out of your sight.

"Eddie?"

He's lit a cigarette—you can see the red orange tip of it glow brighter in the darkness when he takes a drag.

"What, baby?"

"I'm sorry I was a bitch to you in high school."

His chest rises and falls with steady breaths. "Don't worry about it."

And then it's quiet again, your eyelids falling closed and staying that way. Eddie keeps a hand on you—sometimes stroking gently over your arm, or nestled tight at your waist. You would have thought that kind of movement would keep you awake, but you can feel your body grow heavier against him, muscles relaxing under his touch.

"Hey, Eddie?" You don't even bother to open your eyes this time.

"What is it now?"

"Can we do that again," you ask, sentence broken up by a soft yawn, "you know, when I wake up?"

"Sure thing, baby," Eddie promises, "whenever you want."

[barbiewritesstuff]

Chapter 4: Malibu

-- Taglist: @lgg5989 @hangmanssoulmate --

Reserve, you were made reserve. 

At least Seresin didn’t get to fly much more than you, but it still pissed you off that he got to save Rooster and Maverick. You knew you weren’t supposed to be angry at that. You knew you were supposed to be cheerful that they were alive. But it was so hard to do when Seresin was out there gloating and bragging without so much as throwing you a glance. 

This thought caught you off guard, because for a few seconds, you could swear you wanted him to tease you. But you couldn’t really deny it, you did almost want that, because it would mean that at least he would fucking pay attention to you. 

You were sitting on one of the dingy old couches at the Hard Deck next to Bob, wishing the universe didn’t hate you so damn much. You had gotten a call about three hours ago that your dog, Mickey, had been hit by a car and needed to be euthanized and you weren’t doing so great. And that was on top of the fact that you were supposed to be on your period and it was almost two weeks late. Sure, it could have been the fact that you changed birth control, but you had been hooking up with one of Lucky’s crewmates and it all made you damn near lose your mind. And yet, what you were concentrating all your pent up fury on was the fact that the stupid car you were borrowing wouldn’t bloody start. 

"Malibu, long time no see!" He said, strolling into the Hard Deck like he owned the place. Things had been … icy, since your argument and this was the first time he had so much as looked at you since then. It certainly was the first time he spoke to you. You hated how it made your stomach flutter.

"Look Seresin, I really don't have the time or the fucking motivation to deal with your bullshit" you snapped. He seemed taken aback for a second and then wiped the surprise off his face.

"Jesus, bad day?" He snapped back.

"As a matter of fact, yes. My car won't start, my dog died and I missed my period. So don't start" You said, the volume of your voice louder than you wanted. His friends snickered. One of them elbowed him in the arm to say something, but Hangman just looked concerned. 

"Alright, well, I can help with one of those" He said with hands in the air, as if he surrendered before you snapped again.

He left with you to your car, under the watchful eye of all his friends. 

Once there he propped the hood up and tinkered for a few minutes.

"So, you're pregnant?" He finally asked.

"I don't know. I was going to use the car to get a test, but because it's broken…" you said. You were certain he could hear the panic in your voice.

"Your car is shot. I can drive you if you want" Hangman offered. You would have refused if you hadn't been so damn desperate. Then again, you wouldn't have accepted any of his help if you hadn't been so damn desperate.

Hangman drove you to the nearest pharmacy. He parked the car under a light and put the handbrake on. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to ask him to hold your hand. You wanted him to tell you you were okay but you didn't want him to pity you.

"No, I'll be okay."

----

You didn't know why you had asked him to come in, but he had accepted and it seemed to open a floodgate of questions.

"Could you err… Could you stay with me while I take the tests?" You asked. You entered your bathroom and ripped open the packaging to the tests and read the instructions. Once you were fairly confident about what to do you drank some water and waited a minute till you needed to pee. Once you had used the tests, you set a timer on your phone for 15 minutes and left the bathroom. Hangman was sitting on the corner of the bed, waiting for you.

You sat a little further away from him, almost with your back turned.

"What are you going to do if it's positive?"

"I'll quit the navy and have a baby. I'll get a job somewhere as a waitress I guess… something flexible."

"So you don't mind then?

"I'm scared" You choked up for a moment. Before you could control yourself, Hangman placed his hand on your back, rubbing circles. 

"I didn't want to do this alone. I wanted to get married and be a stay-at-home-mom. I wanted --" You sobbed into your hands. Seresin moved closer to you, holding his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you gently.

"What about the dad"

"He's already opted out. Submitted his fucking transfer request too." You cried, face towards the ceiling. He winced at your words.

"It might not be positive"

You didn't know why but you weren't sure you wanted it to be.

After more agonising minutes, your phone beeped and the time was up. Hangman moved when you didn’t. Coming back with one of the tests in his hands.

"Two lines is pregnant, one line means you're not, right?" He asked and you nodded. Hangman handed you the test and you stared at the little window. Jake held you tight.

"You're okay"

"I'm not pregnant" Your voice wavered, finding it hard to pick a side between happy and sad. Neither you nor Jake moved an inch for a while until you yawned.

"I should probably go" Jake said but while it had been a statement, it sounded more like a question.

"Can you stay the night?"

"I'll take the couch"

"No, with me. We can share the bed" you wiped your tears "I need someone with me tonight"

He nodded and laid down next to you. You were both on your backs, staring at a crack in the ceiling.

“For what it’s worth, I never slept with Lucky” He said 

“Sorry?”

“I didn’t sleep with her”

“Okay?” You said trying to sound nonchalant and regretting it immediately

“Okay. Sorry, I misread the situation” He almost whispered

 “No, you didn’t. I’m just -- I’m trying to pretend that I don’t care. But in all honesty, I do. You’re a cool guy when you want to be and I won’t lie, but having you ignore me really hurt my feelings.”

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to be seen with me in front of Lucky and your friends. You spent years hating me and I thought you might be ashamed of hanging around me.”

“What did you do, then if you didn’t sleep with Lucky?”

“We hung around for a bit, got a milkshake…She asked, but I refused”

“Don’t brag!” You slapped his arm playfully

“I just felt it wasn’t right to sleep with one of your friends” He answered with a smile on his face, then, he grew serious “Did you sleep with Rooster?”

“No, Lucky forgot to give me keys and I had no one else to call”

“I’m sorry” He said, looking you straight in the eyes. Your stomach fluttered and you could have sworn his eyes glanced at your lips. You knew your eyes had certainly looked at his. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry too” You said

“Are we friends?”

“I think so” You replied, trying hard to suppress the voice in your heart asking if you could be more.

[ptergwen]

hi val can you maybe write something about the reader being dared to kiss peter/tom/arvin (you choose) since her friends knew that she has a big crush on him, but once she did he seems disinterested after which makes her sad, but what she doesn't know was after she kissed him, he practically runs to his friends freaking out that the girl he's had his eyes on this whole time just kissed him??

kiss and tell

w/c: 1.8k

warnings: like one swear and awkwardness

a/n: yeeee i went with peter! this is adorable :,)

“i can’t!” you scold betty and her annoying smirk. you’re bored at lunch, so liz suggested the three of you play truth or dare. you’d made the mistake of choosing dare. in your defense, betty is the nosiest person in all of midtown, so you thought you were dodging the bullet and guarding your deep dark secrets. how could you have known she’d make you do... this?

“that’s so, like, forward. he’s gonna freak out.” you glance over at peter’s table to see what he’s up to before you possibly scar him. he’s laughing along at a heated conversation ned and mj are having. the way his face lights up, and his eyes crinkle as a smile crosses his features, it gives you butterflies throughout your whole body.

“in a good way,” liz grins her most charming grin at you. it’s not working this time. you roll your eyes up to the ceiling. “i thought you liked him,” betty huffs, gesturing over to peter and keeping her eyes on you. “all you do is talk about how he’s so cute and smart, and his lips look so soft-“ “i never said that!” you look at her with wild eyes. liz bites her lip to hold in a laugh. “the last part, i mean,” you clarify in a murmur.

liz puts a hand on you and pats your shoulder knowingly. “you’ve probably thought it, though. i’ve seen you checking them out.” there have been quite a few times your gaze has landed on peter’s lips, watching them curve while he talks to you about some new science theory he’s excited to share. you end up zoning out and pretending you retained any of what he said. betty puckers her own lips at you.

“you wanna kiss him,” she insists in a sing song voice, resting her chin on your other shoulder. “i’m doing you a favor.” “you’re really not gonna change the dare?” you sigh, your friends leaning on you in support. liz taps your cheek. “so, you don’t wanna kiss him?” “there’s no way,” betty comments from your side. “no, i...” you start, focusing in on peter again.

he meets your eyes across the cafeteria. his smile fades slightly, then a shy one is replacing it, ned dragging him into his and mj’s debate. you turn back to liz and betty.

“i do, but do you think he wants me to?” you ask them both, and they share a you have to be kidding look. “only one way to find out.” liz gives your shoulder a nudge. betty beams at you. “i triple dog dare you now, so you have to.” considering your options, you bounce your leg up and down. you’ll either get the nicest rejection ever from peter or a kiss back. you can handle this.

“ok, i’ll do it,” you decide, betty clapping her hands and squealing. liz throws an arm around your neck. “yay! i love love.” “let’s calm down,” you giggle so she doesn’t get too carried away. you and peter haven’t even established that you like each other. “i’m calm, i’m calm. do you need to borrow chapstick?” she offers, betty simultaneously pulling a tube out of her purse. “or lip gloss?”

you’re appreciating their over involvement now.

“both,” you breathe out, letting them get you ready for your big kiss.

liz and betty send you good luck wishes in a hushed tone while you make your way to peter’s table. mj went to get a snapple, and ned went with her so they could continue whatever argument they’re in. that left peter by himself. it’s almost like this is meant to happen.

“hi,” you greet peter, making him look up at you with raised eyebrows. he notices right away that your lips are shiny, more so than usual. a color that you always seem to bring to his face takes over his cheeks. “hey. you wanna sit?” he gives you a small smile. you return it. “yeah, sure. thanks.” instead of taking the bench across from him like he assumed you would, you find your place next to him.

he doesn’t mind.

“how’s your day been?” you wonder, body turned towards him while he answers. peter scrunches his nose. “kinda busy. i got so much homework in spanish tonight, and i’ve been putting off this essay about...” you do the thing you do every time he goes off on a sort of tangent, watch his lips. lucky for you, that’s the whole point today. “i don’t know. all i have so far is the intro-“

you cut peter off with a kiss. liz and betty cheer to each other the second it happens. peter doesn’t move, only freezes up as you press your glossy lips to his and grab his shoulders. it takes a few seconds for you to realize he’s not kissing back. his arms are stiff at his sides, eyes wide in shock. absolutely humiliated, you pull back, moving as far away as you can.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked you first,” you apologize, voice shaking. you’re already getting to your feet. peter blinks a few times, grounding himself back in the moment. “no, no. it’s okay. i-“ “that was weird, i know. you don’t have to lie or make me feel better.” he furrows his eyebrows, in a way that seems regretful even though you’re the one who messed up. “i’m trying to tell you, y/n. it’s fine. we-“

ned’s voice fills the room, making you snap your head in his direction. him and mj are coming back. you need to get out of here before you embarrass yourself even more.

“i’m gonna go. i’m sorry,” you mumble out, running back to your table, where liz and betty are instantly asking what’s wrong and if you’re alright. peter licks his lips that are now coated in your gloss and clenches his jaw. he’s pissed. not at you, at himself. it’s clear because mj brings attention to it when she sits down.

“what’s up with your face?” she narrows her eyes at him, popping the cap on her snapple. ned elbows peter in his spot next to him. you were just there less than a minute ago. “you okay, dude?” he checks. “no.” peter closes his eyes in frustration. “what’s wrong?” ned kicks mj’s foot under the table so she’ll stop making out with her drink and help him.

“i... y/n kissed me,” peter admits, sounding oddly upset about something everyone knows he’s been hoping would happen. “she what?” ned gawks. “isn’t that a good thing?” mj points out. “you love her.” “like her,” peter corrects and chews the inside of his cheek. “whatever. shouldn’t you want her to kiss you?” she takes another sip of snapple, passing this off to ned.

“yeah...” is all ned says. he awkwardly rubs peter’s back while mj tries not to snort. “that’s not the problem. i didn’t kiss her back, and she took it as me not being into it,” peter shakes his head as he recounts your weird moment. “which i was,” he tells them for the record. ned makes a funny face at him. “so why didn’t you kiss back?” “no shit she ran away,” mj mutters to him. she saw that part.

“because i wasn’t expecting it!” peter frowns at his friends’ reactions and at what he did. “you guys know how much i like y/n. i can’t believe i screwed this up so bad.” mj squints in mock confusion. “i can.” she quickly drops her sarcasm for encouragement after that. “ok, seriously. just go find her and apologize.” “maybe kiss her this time,” ned chimes in.

“if she really likes you, she’ll get it.” mj smiles genuinely, nodding back at your table. ned gives him a push forward. “you got this, dude. come tell us all about it after.” a rush of confidence enters peter from their advice. he’ll fix this. “thanks, guys. here i go.” he shoots up from the table, ned and mj getting back into their debate once he’s out of sight.

betty is hugging you way too tightly when peter gets over there. she goes on about how much peter sucks, overcompensating because she’s the reason you kissed him. you only hum in response. you don’t have the heart to tell her you blame yourself. only liz notices peter come over, so she talks on your behalf. “oh, hey,” she says drily. “hey. can i talk to y/n?” peter gets out, twiddling with his thumbs nervously.

she has to decide if she’d rather go into protective friend mode or let him. from your unenthusiastic responses to betty’s hate rant, she figures you’d like to hear him out.

“come on, betty,” liz takes her arm suddenly, betty trying to pull it back. “what? why?” “i’m gonna buy you ice cream. let’s go.” that’s her cover. peter shoots her a look that says thank you, liz pressing her lips into a line and dragging betty along. betty sees peter standing in front of your table and glares at him, liz walking faster. you don’t get the chance to ask them where they’re going because they leave so fast.

the bench dips down on one side of you, making someone’s prescense known. you’re surprised to find it’s peter. you talk first.

“if you’re gonna apologize, don’t. it was my fault-“ “you never let me finish earlier,” peter interrupts, the hint of a smile on his face. his clammy hand links with one of yours. “what were you gonna say?” you ask quietly, peter threading your fingers together. your heart is racing at the simple touch. “that i like you,” he replies at the same low volume. “and, that i wanted to try again.”

he’s sitting a lot closer to you than you realized. you welcome it, your hands in between you two on the bench. “i like you too... try what again?” you question, although you hope and pray it’s what you think. “kissing,” peter says what you were hoping and praying for. “wasn’t ready the first time.” you’re about to go into cardiac arrest as he rests his forehead on yours, curls brushing your face. a few broken up breaths escape him.

“can i?” he nearly whispers, warm hand still gripping at yours. “yeah,” you agree before your eyes flutter shut. he wastes no time, parting his lips and brushing them against yours gently, you reciprocating. he kisses as sweetly as he is, his free hand on your cheek and fingers careessing your skin. your other hand ends up on the back of his neck. you grin against him, lips detaching momentarily so you can engage him in another kiss.

peter doesn’t hesitate to kiss back this time, nose nudging yours as he moves in more. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck and laugh into the kiss, reminding him you’re in school. he pulls back with a chuckle, but keeps his forehead on yours and your hands in each other.

“sorry. got too excited,” he laughs out, you leaning into his open palm. “i told you don’t apologize.”

liz and betty joined ned and mj at some point. the four of them are whistling at you and yelling out suggestive jokes. they’re too much. but, to be fair, you owe this all to them.

[luvdsc]

haha, what if we kissed? (lol jk... unless?)

fact! you’re secretly in love with your best friend, and so is he!

pairing :: zhong chenle x reader genre :: fluff / best friend, buzzfeed worth it au word count :: 5,072 words warnings :: none playlist :: sunny afternoon (red velvet) ⋆ about love (marina) ⋆ all about you (nct u) ⋆ love (x lovers) ⋆ bella notte (f. murray abraham & arturo castro) author’s note :: i literally just finished writing the rest of this in my meetings today and am posting during my lunchbreak, but happy (1 day late) birthday, chenle sweetheart!! ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

“Hello, and welcome back to another episode of Dream: Worth It!”

Chenle shouts loudly from the driver’s seat, waving excitedly at the camera attached to the dashboard as he waits for the traffic light to turn green. You visibly flinch in your spot on the passenger's side, startled by the sudden greeting, and even Jisung jumps in the backseat, almost dropping the camcorder he was fiddling with.

Your best friend continues to give the camera a dazzling smile, paying no attention to your and Jisung’s brief glares. “Today on Worth It, thanks to a fan’s suggestion, we’ll be trying out three different spaghetti dishes at three drastically different price points to find out which one is most worth it at its price!”

“Yes,” you chime in, nodding excitedly at the camera and giving a little wave. “So if you want to see another riveting episode of Chenle and Jisung going on three dates at three drastically different price points while I third wheel again, please stay tuned!”

“Hey!”

Both the boys wildly protest, but you blatantly ignore them, checking your phone quickly before beaming at the camera again. “So here’s our first spaghetti fact! The word ‘spaghetti’ is actually the plural version of spaghetto. Spaghetto comes from the Italian word spago, which means twine or thin string.”

“Wait, that actually makes sense. Spaghetti looks like thin strings,” Chenle says, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah, basically every language makes sense, except for English,” you remark, setting your phone down in your lap before turning to your best friend. “So are you excited for this episode’s dish?”

“Yes! Shout out to Moony for your suggestion,” Chenle calls out, driving forward before making a right. “If anyone else has any suggestions for future videos, please feel free to comment below.”

You start to explain the first restaurant to your viewers. “Our first stop is called Legalize Marinara! It’s a small hole in the wall place in downtown LA, and fresh pasta is made everyday. We’ll be talking to the owner and chef Johnny Suh about the daily process.”

“And cut!” Jisung calls out, and you stop there, pressing the off button to end the recording. Later on, the three of you will have to work on snipping up the recordings to create a smooth transition from there to a shot of Johnny and his restaurant before jumping into your quick interview with him.

You quickly scroll through the questions you had written ahead of time to ask Johnny on your phone, mouthing the words and memorizing them. You were always the one who asked about the history of the restaurant because Chenle wasn’t as good with the more sentimental questions and preferred the light hearted ones about the food specifically, which you didn’t mind. As long as you get to try good food at the end of it, you’re one very happy, very stuffed camper. You are very much looking forward to visiting Legalize Marinara.

“—and that’s how the pasta is freshly made everyday in the morning.” Johnny finishes up, giving the camera a very charismatic smile and a wink. “We also have a special brew of coffee created by my dad, but that’s a story for another episode. I’ll bring out the spaghetti once it’s ready.”

You and Chenle thank him before going over to sit at one of the small metal tables near the entrance. The place had a sort of modern, yet retro feel to it with an eclectic mix of vintage, kitschy furniture adding pops of color here and there to the otherwise simple space with a neutral palette. The name of the restaurant flashes as a neon sign, serving as the main wall decor along with records scattered here and there on the wall as well.

Jisung stands across from the two of you, propping the large camera on his shoulder in preparation. You and Chenle both take a sip of the special coffee drinks Johnny prepared for you each on the house, pleasantly surprised by the crisp, refreshing taste your taste buds are immediately hit with. Johnny appears minutes later, a pretty plate of simple spaghetti and meatballs along with some Parmesan and garnish on top in hand.

“Here’s our most popular dish: spaghetti with meatballs!” he announces, placing the plate in front of you both carefully. “It’s a simple tomato sauce, but it’s made with organic, local ingredients that we get from the farmer’s market every morning. We get the fresh meat from the butcher down the block everyday to make the meatballs and buy the cheese from local sellers as well. We also add the secret spice mixture created by my mom to the meatballs, which gives it a distinct flavor from other restaurants. Please dig in, guys!”

You immediately swirl your fork into the plate of spaghetti. It looks and smells absolutely fantastic, and your mouth is already watering. You cannot believe that this only costs thirteen dollars. This is an absolute steal. You are just about to take a bite when—

“Wait! We didn’t do a ‘cheers’ yet!” Chenle exclaims, sticking out his fork towards you. You clink your fork against his own metal utensil, and he’s finally satisfied, retracting his arm. Finally, you take the much anticipated bite. The flavors absolutely explode in your mouth, and you’re already reaching out to take a second forkful of the delicious masterpiece.

“This is amazing,” you declare, and Chenle nods enthusiastically, spearing a meatball with his fork. Jisung briefly pans the camera over to Johnny, who shows a double thumbs up before doing finger guns and giving an exaggerated wink.

“Here, try this.” Chenle cuts a piece of the meatball and offers it to you. You reach out for it, but he pulls back, smiling widely and eyes sparkling. “Nuh uh, that’s too easy. Say ah, Y/N.”

“I—” Your cheeks grow warmer than ever, and his grin grows broader, wriggling the fork in front of you. Face burning, you move forward and take a bite. You can hear Jisung fake gagging behind the camera and very much would like to flip him the bird, but you are a professional. You’ll get him back for that later. After all, revenge is a dish best served piping hot and spicy, and you have some Carolina reapers leftover from another video that may accidentally find its way into Jisung’s ramen next time.

You and Chenle spend some more time describing the dish in between bites as Johnny pipes in here and there with some well placed dad jokes that has Jisung shaking his head behind the camera. By the end of it, you both are very happy, and you switch places with Jisung who has a chance to try out the pasta himself at last. He silently eats it before tossing a thumbs up at the camera, and you stop the recording there. After thanking Johnny once more before the three of you leave, you all pile into your car and get ready to go to the next stop.

Up next: Penne for your Thoughts.

“Can we stop here?” Jisung pipes up, peering out the window with interest. His eyes scan the surroundings, peering at the empty space and the wide stairs in front of the spiraling columns of a grand building.

You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at your friend in the backseat. “We’re still a couple blocks away from the restaurant though.”

“This looks like a good spot to film a dance,” he muses to himself before sitting up straighter. “Can we take a quick break? We’re still early, and I wanted to film a quick TikTok before the sun sets.”

You look over at Chenle, who shrugs and pulls over. He backs up into an available parking space, parallel parking smoothly, one hand gripping the back of your seat and the other on the steering wheel. “Alright, do your thing, Jisungie.”

Jisung excitedly hops out from the back. You and Chenle follow suit, locking the car behind you. Your friend is busy setting up his collapsible tripod before placing his phone on it and calling over to you, “Hey, can you stand in front, Y/N? I wanna angle this correctly and check the lighting.”

You move in front of his phone, standing several steps in front of the stairs. Jisung fiddles around with his phone for a few moments, switching up some of the settings and zoom functions before straightening up, eyes bright. “Okay, stay there to mark the spot! I’m gonna press the start button to record. Chenle, can I borrow your phone? I need to play the song for the dance.”

Chenle hands him his phone, and the familiar intro to Doja Cat’s “Say So” begins to blast on top volume. Jisung hands it back to its owner and hurriedly moves to stand in front of his own recording phone as you step aside. “I kinda also need you two in my TikTok.”

“Wait, what? I don’t know the dance,” you protest, starting to back out, but Jisung grabs your hand, pulling you into view, as Chenle bounces over with a shrug of his shoulders, never one to shy away from the camera.

“You don’t need to dance. I just need you both to uh, kiss my cheek on, um, both sides when I tap on them both. It should be the fourth time she says ‘say so’ in the song,” he stammers slightly, face turning slightly pink. He avoids making eye contact as you give him a suspicious look, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What? Why?”

“It’s part of the dance! Now get out of the shot please because the chorus is finally coming up again!” He unceremoniously shoves you out of the frame, and Chenle quickly catches you before you faceplant into the ground. You have a few choice words to yell at your friend and are about to furiously march over to him, but Chenle tightens his grip on you. “Let’s just let him finish, and we can go on. You know how he is about dancing.”

“I’m paying Renjun to put another cockroach picture as his lockscreen again,” you huff, frowning at the dancing boy. “Why didn’t you say anything about the whole kissing request anyway?”

“Eh, I’ve done it before. It’s no big deal.” Chenle shrugs, and you start to stutter, brain malfunctioning, “Wait, you did wha—”

“Oh, it’s almost our cue!” Chenle pushes you towards Jisung as he runs behind the camera to the other side, and you find yourself stumbling for a second time before catching yourself. Grumbling to yourself, you catch Chenle’s apologetic expression, and you sigh, shaking your head as you wait on the sidelines for Jisung to do the move.

And there it is.

Jisung points at his cheeks, tapping them on both sides, and you and Chenle jump into the frame. You lean forward, pressing your lips softly against— wait.

Eyes widening, you jump back in shock, mouth popping open, and the same reaction comes from your best friend when you two realize that you just kissed each other. On the lips.

Crouched on the ground, Jisung looks rather smug after quickly dropping down mid-dance and orchestrating the whole incident. He quickly stands up, striding towards the camera and ending the recording, before efficiently packing up the equipment and walking back to the car without another word.

“Did we just—” you splutter, unable to continue your sentence, as your face grows increasingly warm. Chenle refuses to make eye contact with you, the darkening blush spreading across his face like wildfire. The two of you both direct your disbelief at the same target, rushing over to the car which he boredly stands next to, waiting for Chenle to unlock it.

“Jisung!” You both shout his name, and he just stares at you both, a small grin across his face that he struggles to hide. “What?”

“‘What?’ That’s it? What was that?! Why did you do that?” you exclaim, waving your arms around. Chenle is rendered speechless, unable to say anything after the quick outburst of his other best friend’s name.

“I was tired of listening to Che—mmph!” Jisung is abruptly cut off as Chenle throws his hand over his friend’s mouth, effectively interrupting whatever he was about to say. The two of them silently look at each other, maintaining some sort of telepathic stare that’s probably discussed in the universal book of the bro code. You’ve seen Jaemin and Jeno or Renjun and Donghyuck share the same look before and never really understood it. To be honest, it kind of reminds you of that one moment where the main characters of a chick flick gaze into each others’ eyes and then kiss.

The sound of a text notification cuts off your train of thought and breaks the intense stare down going between the two boys, and you check your phone, eyes widening. “Oh my god, we’re going to be late if we don’t go now! Taeyong just texted me to confirm if we’re coming.”

The three of you hurry into the car, buckling up in your seats. Your hand lightly grazes Chenle’s amidst the rush, and you freeze. You look up, heat spreading across your face, as Chenle meets your gaze, turning redder than spaghetti sauce.

“Alright, you can continue this moment at the restaurant,” Jisung says loudly, jolting the two of you out of your stupor. You quickly retract your hand, mumbling a quick apology, and look away, cheeks still growing warmer than ever. Chenle awkwardly clears his throat and starts the car up, driving to your second stop on the map.

Penne for your Thoughts is simply lovely. It reminds you of a place you would see on the shiny cover of Architecture Digest: a hot spot where all those social influencers would take aesthetic snapshots and post to their Instagrams. The restaurant is quaint and spacious: a large area filled with lots of greenery, hanging plants in simple white ceramic pots, white painted brick walls, and wooden tables with soft cushions on each seat. Once you wrap up the interview with Taeyong, you are seated next to an open window with a great view of a pretty koi pond in the back.

“We serve Korean fusion style food here, and our spaghetti has a freshly made tomato sauce that includes chopped kimchi infused in it. We found that using garlic marinated pork belly makes a more flavorful meatball, which we char slightly, paying homage to the wonderful KBBQ samgyeopsal. We also found that a raw egg yolk on top adds a richness to the pasta, which is similar to a bowl of bibimbap. And there’s some grated Parmesan and mozzarella on top.” Taeyong sets the plate of gorgeous spaghetti in front of you and Chenle with a shy smile. “I hope you both enjoy it.”

You don’t know how else to describe the dish, except that it is beautiful (Just like the restaurant owner, like have you seen his face? Lee Taeyong is the true modern day Adonis, but you digress). You swear you saw Chenle wipe a tear from his face out of the corner of your eye. Practically salivating, you impatiently wait for Jisung to take a few close up videos and pictures of the dish before you immediately dig in.

Fork awkwardly hovering in the air, you pause, turning to Chenle. “Uh, cheers?”

His own loaded fork is halfway to his mouth when he halts. “Oh! Right. Yes. Um, cheers, Y/N.”

The two of you stiffly tap your forks against each other before facing forward again and finally taking the much desired bite. The flavors are bursting like fireworks, and if someone told you that you had died and gone to heaven, you would believe them because there’s no other word to explain the taste other than heavenly. Dante had many circles leading to the center of hell. If you are to apply the same concept to heaven, Legalize Marinara would be the first circle you enter once you go past the pearly gates, and Penne for your Thoughts would most definitely be the second.

The clinking of Chenle’s fork against the plate breaks you from your thoughts, and your good mood falters when you remember the incident again. You plaster a quick smile as you begin to describe the dish to the camera. Chenle chimes in with a wide smile of his own that looks a little too forced, but the only one who seems to notice is you.

Once the recording is wrapped up, Chenle drops you off at your apartment building for you to change into a more dressier attire for the last stop. He and Jisung will change at their place before coming back to pick you up for dinner.

Up next: Terrazza San Valentino.

The place is positively breathtaking. It is an upscale restaurant with open seating on a terrace, leading to a beautiful view of the ocean. Wisteria vines and bright flowers weave their way through the twisting low iron fences encompassing the space as they climb the sides of the building. You have the perfect seat to witness the picturesque sunset over the rippling waters. A bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon had been brought out and now rests on the covered table, uncorked and already poured out into two glasses. It very much reminds you of the beautiful restaurants you visited along the Amalfi Coast, specifically Il Capitano in Positano. You only hope that the food here will be just as amazing as the pasta you ordered there.

You just wish your company was a little better. The atmosphere felt more awkward than the time your mom had set you up on a blind date with her coworker’s son. You had to text Chenle for help that time, and he came to your rescue, helping you escape after pretending to be your long lost son. Obviously, your date wasn’t dumb enough to believe that, but he did believe that you were completely off your rockers and immediately took off after that.

Sneaking a glance at your best friend, you sigh when you realize that he refuses to look your way. You carefully tuck the skirt of your wine red dress under your crossed legs. The sweetheart neckline emphasizes the simple gold necklace you have on, and the dress tapers off at your waist, accentuating your figure perfectly. You paired the outfit with a matching lipstick, a simple black clutch, and some elegant black heels with ribbons that loop around your ankles into a pretty bow.

In other words, you look stunning, and Chenle’s palms are growing sweaty. He undos the first few buttons of his white dress shirt, desperately wanting to take off his tailored suit jacket, but his attire would look much too casual without it. He avoids eye contact with you and remains silent, growing even more flustered by the second, and looks at Jisung helplessly.

Of course, his other best friend proves to be useless again (Disappointing, but not surprising). Jisung simply wriggles his eyebrows at him, eyes darting from you to Chenle, before zooming into his face at a very unflattering angle. Chenle throws him a dirty look, and Jisung merely sticks out his tongue in response. However, they immediately smoothen their expressions into much more pleasant ones when Jaehyun comes out with the plate of food on a small cart.

“This is our play on spaghetti.” He gives you a dimpled smile, and you briefly wonder if the customers rave about this restaurant because of the food or the chef. Perhaps it is a combination of both.

He continued to explain the dish, setting it down in front of you and Chenle. “We use strangozzi that is made fresh every morning. We infuse sun dried tomatoes that we dried ourselves into the olive oil for a minimum of thirty days. The pasta is cooked for sixty seconds, while we slightly sauté grated truffle in the oil in a pan. Once the pasta is ready, we transfer it to the truffle pan and cook it for another minute, making sure to coat the pasta in the sauce. And then we grate some Parmesan and truffles right on top at the table.”

Jaehyun pulls out the expensive mushroom, generously grating thin slices on top of the glistening strands of pasta. The smell is incredible, and your eyes are already hyper fixated on the dish in front of you. He puts down the mushroom and grater, picking up the second grater and the cheese from the cart before shredding the cheese perfectly.

When he finishes, Jaehyun places them back on the cart and smiles at you both charmingly once more. “I hope you enjoy your meal. If you need anything else, please feel free to ask.”

You thank him before he leaves, and Jisung takes all the necessary shots before giving the okay to start eating. You and Chenle offer up some comments about the elegance of the dish, describing its appearance and finally twirling some on the end of your fork. You murmur a quiet “cheers” as the two of you clink your glasses of wine together and take a sip before having the first bite.

The amount of money you have to pay to have a truffle dish is absolutely worth it. The taste is simply indescribable, and you truly have no words. You are blown away by the amount of flavor that can be created with just a few ingredients, and your taste buds are singing. Wide eyed, you turn to look at Chenle, who has the same astonished expression on his face, already staring back at you in complete surprise.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and your best friend agrees with you. “Holy shit indeed.”

You immediately go for another bite, and Chenle quickly follows suit. “This is— this is incredible. I don’t know how to describe it, except, except, wow. I can’t stop eating it, and the sun dried tomatoes, olive oil, fresh pasta al dente, and truffles just work so well together. It’s like a symphony in my mouth.”

“I agree,” Chenle nods enthusiastically, swiping another forkful of the yummy goodness. “This has to be one of the best dishes of the entire season.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You spear a slice of the truffle with the pasta, and the ensuing bite is simply perfect and delectable. “I would come back here every single week if my bank account would let me.”

The stifled atmosphere between the two of you suddenly becomes relaxed at that point, the thick tension dissipating with food never failing to act as the perfect ice breaker and buffer simultaneously. For now, you can pretend the kiss didn’t happen and almost forget it (key word: almost).

“There’s a very popular fan suggestion,” Jisung pipes up, looking at the comment section of the previous video where you and Chenle announced your current recording’s star dish. “It got over twenty thousand likes and five hundred responses.”

“What is it?” You pause in eating, fork poised in the air, as you look over to your friend behind the camera. Chenle pays no attention, continuing to take another bite.

“Recreate the Lady and the Tramp moment.”

Your jaw drops, and your eyes grow round. Practically scandalized, your voice goes an octave higher. “You mean the kissing scene?!”

At the mention of kissing, Chenle chokes on a noodle, spluttering and nearly hacking up a lung, and you quickly reach over and firmly pat him on the back repeatedly until he stops coughing with a weak “thanks.”

“What? This is a food show! Why do they want us to kiss?” your best friend wheezes, and you pass him a glass of water. He grabs it from your outstretched hand gratefully and takes a large gulp.

“I don’t know, fan service? Anyway, it’s good for the views!” Jisung gives you a thumbs up, and you frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why don’t you do it with Chenle then?”

“It specifically says you and Chenle,” he informs smugly with a smirk, and you glower at him, much to his amusement.

“Well, if it’s for the fans…” Chenle trails off, a faint blush beginning to make its appearance on his face. He hesitantly pulls out one strand of the pasta, picking up one end on his fork.

You can’t believe this. Yet, you slowly reach out for the other end of the strand with your fork, twirling it onto the metal prongs securely. You move to take your end of the noodle, while Chenle does the same, both of you actively avoiding eye contact.

“Oh c’mon, at least make it a little more romantic than that. Jeno and Jaemin have more chemistry than you two right now,” Jisung complains, and you would very much like to chuck the half full bottle of wine at his big, annoying head (Chenle also has similar thoughts).

Taking a deep breath, you finally place the noodle’s end in your mouth. Cheeks burning, you can feel your heart rate already skyrocketing at the mere thought of kissing your best friend again. You know you’ll freeze up if you look at him, so you do your best to focus your gaze on the center of the noodle strand. You’ll have some time before the two of you meet in the middle, right?

Wrong.

It comes much too soon, and your palms are growing sweaty as your heart races in your chest at a breakneck speed. Your lips are mere millimeters away from his, and you pause. You can’t hear anything, but the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing to your cheeks, and you finally find the courage to peek up at your best friend. You find him already gazing at you, a soft expression on his face. His eyes dart down to your lips before meeting your eyes once more, and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for you, that he won’t do anything unless you want it too, that it’s okay if you don’t.

But you do.

So you muster up all the courage you possibly can and close the distance, carefully pressing your lips against his for a tender kiss before biting off the noodle. When you pull back, you finally notice the awestruck expression written all over Chenle’s face. He lets out a small laugh of disbelief before he positively beams, bouncing in his seat, and you sport a matching smile, albeit a little bashful.

“Uh, anyway, who left that comment? We should probably give them a mention,” you say, clearing your throat and hoping the heat subsides in your cheeks soon. Chenle continues to grin like the Cheshire Cat and secretly grabs your hand underneath the tablecloth, intertwining your fingers with his. You can feel your face exponentially growing warm once again, but you still send a pleased smile to your best friend.

“Uh…” Jisung awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “‘Insert goofy’s chuckle.’”

At Jisung’s answer, you freeze up entirely in your position before immediately turning and locking eyes with Chenle in complete horror, the both of you instantly coming to the same, dreadful realization.

“HYUCK?!”

One new notification: Dream: Worth It uploaded a new video!

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

oh my god you guys actually did it. your relationship started all thanks to ME 🙆🏻 you’re welcome btw 😘 I take payment in the form of your first born’s name

notanimpasta replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle ok calm down rumpelstiltskin

jisung pwark replied:  @ notanimpasta what a perfect nickname for him. He’s an ugly little greedy man

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ jisung pwark LMAOOOO (and congrats, chenle and y/n!)

 insert goofy’s chuckle replied:  @ jisung pwark what tf no one asked??? 

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark wait hold on you were supposed to edit that end part out????

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta i left it for the views ☺️

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark people watch for the food tho!!! 🙂

nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ replied: @ big head king I watched it for the kiss. Love is so beautiful 🥰💓💞🥺🥺💕💛💟✨💖

jenojam replied: @ big head king I had watched it for the food! but congratulations, y/n and chenle :) 

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ big head king i watched it because ron jeon said you mentioned me

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle IT’S RENJUN!!!!!! 🤬🤬 

mork lee rawr xD replied: hahaha I watch for the food~

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ mork lee rawr xD Thank you Mark, very cool!

winwin in past tense is wonwon!!! commented:

whoop whoop congrats lele 🥳🥳

rapperpunzel commented:

the pasta looks good 🍝

johnny’s communication center commented:

Thanks for stopping by! Come back for the couple’s special discount anytime 😉

baa baa yang sheep commented:

oh my god finally!!!

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ baa baa yang sheep you owe me $50 I was right, it happened before the season finale

baa baa yang sheep replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck suddenly i’m jared, 19

xiao dejasmine commented:

hahahaha cute ! 😁😁

ty track commented:

Thank you y/n and chenle for visiting ~~ congrats on your relationship !!! -TY

junguwu (◕‿◕✿) commented:

YAAAAAS CHENLE SWEETIE 😘😘😘

jisung pwark commented:

check out my latest tiktok video @ jisungpwark to see their actual first kiss!!! and don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe ☺️

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark STOP USING US AS CLICKBAIT

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta no ❤️

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta also red is sus

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark so when are you gonna do the best friend kissing challenge huh 👀

jisung pwark replied: @ big head king SHUT UP CHENLE

honeyfairy replied: @ jisung pwark 😳😳

gu ren gui god commented:

wow~ very cute, chenle! my angel 😊

FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:

YOOOOO CONGRATS, MAN 🤩🤪🤪

prince jae commented:

thank you guys for coming by! please stop by next year on your anniversary free of charge (:

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ prince jae omg mark and I will be there for sure ❤️

showmethemonet replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle my new boyfriend and I will be there too ☺️

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet I’m sorry, I was wrong, pls don’t leave me for bts jin even though i am so much more handsomer and talented than him 😌

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[astaroth1357]

The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness… 

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation… For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey... 

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming. 

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already! 

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

[xxxsweetdreamzxxx]

warnings/tags: dom!wonho sub!reader, fluff, smut, fanfic; cursing, railing, unprotected sex, hook up, size kink, other types of filth

summary: your first encounter with your new nextdoor neighbor turns steamy

word count: 2k

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Had this dream and decided that Wonho was a good fit to replace the rando my mind made up. Didn't require much editing, so this is straight from my messed up subconscious. Hope you enjoy!! ;>

and yes, I am a certified Wonho simp. (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

===============================

You glanced up past the tops of the skyscrapers of Manhattan at the gray sky and sighed, pulling your coat tighter around you in the cool air. Seeing the older structure that was your apartment building in front of you, waves of relief washed through you. Getting excited to head inside and warm up a little, you thought: 'Another day of work over, time to relax.' But as you neared the entrance, you heard a voice behind you. 

"Goddamn." A man muttered under his breath. "What's your name?" He said a little louder so you could hear, his tone indicating obvious interest. 

Fighting back a sigh and without looking his way, you replied: "Sorry, I'm not interested."

Despite wanting to desperately go inside, you turned and headed back the way you came, thankful he didn't follow. You figured it wasn't a good idea for him to know where you lived. Once out of sight of your building, you decided it was probably safe to head back.

Approaching your building for the second time, you could see no one stood outside the building, so you entered. Heading up one flight of stairs onto the second floor, you made your way into the hallway and to the second door, reaching into your pocket for your keys. Unlocking your apartment door, you went in and closed the door behind you. 

Glancing around, you could see your bed in the corner, the small two-person couch against the opposite wall, and the kitchenette near the door that consisted of only a mini fridge and tiny stovetop. The wall furthest from the door had a window with it's curtains drawn to the sides, letting natural light in. A door along the wall with the couch lead to your bathroom. You didn't mind living in a one room apartment much, its location was amazing - and something you cared more about then the square footage. 

Setting your keys down on top of the mini fridge, you changed into some more comfortable shorts before moving towards the couch, reaching for the remote that was on the armrest as you sat down. Flipping on the TV situated across from you, you turned on the show you were watching last night before bed. Taking place in the 1920s or so, it was about some rich influential family and their daily lives. Of course, more drama filled than it would've been in reality. One of the younger couples in the family had been slowly growing closer, and you were just waiting for them to hook up. You secretly hoped today's episode would deliver. 

To your delight, it didn't take long for the episode to go where you wanted, with the couple locking themselves in a bedroom late at night and climbing onto their canopy bed. The girl's soft moans made you turn down the volume and pray to god that no one could hear anything through your thin apartment walls. It began to pour outside your window, thankfully drowning out some of the noises coming from your TV. You curled yourself up in a ball and watched the semi-pornographic scene play out, feeling satisfied in the direction the show was going.

You were so wrapped up in the show that it took a second for you to process that the sound you heard was a knock at your door. 

"Fuck." you hissed under your breath, scrambling to pause the show on a frame that wasn't too suspicious. 

You left the remote on the seat you'd been sitting on and hurried over to the door, which didn't have a peep hole so there was no way to see the person on the other side. 

"Yes?" You question through the door. 

A man's voice answered. "Sorry to bother you, but I forgot the key to my apartment nextdoor and got caught in the rain on the way back from work. I don't have anything out here to dry off with and my roommate doesn't get back until a few hours from now. Could I please borrow a towel?" 

He sounded familiar somehow, you felt like you'd heard his voice recently but couldn't place where. He did sound desperate...

You opened the door. The poor guy was drenched and shivering, and looked at you in embarrassment. His expression then seemed to turn to recognition of some kind. Even though the way he carried himself seemed sweet and innocent, he was tall and you could tell that under layers of winter clothing was nothing but muscle. Despite feeling a little uneasy being alone with such a large man, you beckoned him to come inside. 

You took in his appearance further as he hesitated a bit before doing so. His wet dark hair was plastered flat across his forehead, his equally dark eyes looked tired. His red cheeks and nose stood out against his pale skin, and you wondered how long he'd been out in the cold. Even in such a disheveled state, his perfect visuals made you feel flushed in the face. He was prettier than any man - no, person - you'd met before.

"I- I'm y/n by the way." You wanted to slap yourself for stuttering. "You can stay here until your roommate gets back, I'd hate for you to be standing in the hallway the whole time." 

"I'm Hoseok," The man replied, "and I can't thank you enough." He smiled gratefully at you, making your heart skip a beat. 

You averted your gaze to quickly duck into the bathroom, getting him a towel. You gave it to him and showed him where he could sit on your couch, the seat next to where you'd been sitting before.  You could notice he was still shivering after sitting down. 

"Would you like some hot tea to warm you up?" You asked. 

He gave you another grateful smile. "Yes." 

You headed over to the kitchenette to heat up some water, pulling out two mugs for your tea. You continued the conversation, talking about work, the weather, city life, etc. until before long you'd finished making the tea and headed back to the couch to keep talking, sitting down next to him. 

You learned he was a mailman of all things, and funnily enough he delivered mail to the building you both lived in. He'd moved in with his roommate only recently, an old friend from high school. You'd met the roommate a few times, out in the hallway and such. You had no idea a second person had moved in.

Then there was a pause in the conversation, and his eyes drifted over to the TV. He noticed that it was on, but paused. 

"What you watching?" He asked in a teasing tone. 

"Oh, ummm," you trailed off, "It's nothing."

"Can I see?" He teased further, a slight smirk on his lips. "Its nothing bad is it?" 

"No, I just forgot to turn it off." You say quickly. 

At that, you went to grab the remote where it lay, on the opposite side of you than he was. A bit surprised by your quick motions, he tried to reach over you to grab it and press play, curiosity overtaking him. Trying to reach that far caused him to lean over quite a bit, too much. Nearly collapsing on top of you, the weight of his body pushed you down onto the couch underneath him. You yelp in surprise. 

Completely engulfed in his shadow, you look up at him, who seems equally surprised by the awkward position he got you both into. He held himself up with his arms on either side of you, but didn't climb off. You can see blush across his cheeks, your own face feeling hot. Something in his previously sweet and tired eyes changes, and his eyes move down to your lips. 

The next thing you know, your lips are crashing against his, and he pulls you into an upright position, placing you on his lap. He runs his fingers through your hair; neither of you stopping to take a breath. You can feel your panties already starting to get damp, clinging to your clit. Moaning softly against his lips, you began to grind your hips against his, feeling a growing bulge underneath you. Seeing this as an invitation, he swiftly picks you up and starts moving you across the room in the direction of your bed. 

Without unlocking his lips from yours, he splayed you out across your bedsheets beneath him. The feeling of being trapped under him only makes you wetter. He begins to grind his hips in rhythm with yours, the fabric of your shorts and his pants brushing against each other. His hands begin to feel you up, finding every curve on your body through your clothes. He then takes them down to the waistband of your shorts, wasting no time in using it to pull them off, along with your panties. 

He then tugs impatiently at your shirt, and you help him to remove it before placing your hands on his belt, fumbling with the clasp. He tugs his shirt over his head before helping you to remove his belt and then his pants. You use your own hands to explore his abdomen, feeling his hard abs between your fingertips. He definitely worked out a ton.  

You then felt his erection brush against your inner thigh, more apparent through the much thinner fabric of his boxers. Although, you wanted to feel it without the boxers. Your hands drifted lower, letting him know to remove them. He did so without hesitation, groaning in satisfaction now that his cock was freed from any restrictive fabric. The pace of your kisses slowed down a little as he spread your legs a bit more, then teased your folds with his tip. The contact with your dripping pussy caused you to moan louder than before. 

He moved his lips onto your neck, marking you as you waited for his next move - which apparently was slamming into you hard like a truck. You sharply sucked in a breath and unintentionally clenched your walls around his dick, causing him to moan against your neck. Tears rolled down your cheeks, caused by momentary pain. Relaxing a bit, you tried your best to match your thrusts with his again. He pushed in forcefully until he was balls deep. He was so large, he filled you up completely. 

Seeing your sweat and tears, he looks into your eyes with slight concern and speaks for the first time in minutes. "You okay?" 

"Mhmhmm." Is all you can reply. In reality you were much better than okay. 

He presses his lips back onto yours before pulling out and ramming back into you aggressively several times, causing lewd noises to escape you both. Feeling his orgasm approaching he pulls out quickly,  leaving you a sweaty mess. Only seconds later hot strings of cum splash against your inner thighs, spilling onto the bedsheets. Squirming a little at the tenseness there, you begin to move your hand down but he pins it to the bed, making you whine. 

"So needy." He comments before using his own fingers to rub fast circles on your clit. 

You arch your back - somehow him doing that feels better than you could ever make it feel. It doesn't take long before a feeling near your tummy begins to build up, your hips grinding a little faster. Before you can remove your lips from his to warn him, you release onto his hand, your nerves relaxing as you ride out your orgasm beneath him. He pauses to lick you off of his fingers, causing you to blush. 

"Fuck, you taste so good." 

After finishing every last bit, he lies down next to you onto the bed, snuggling you up against him. All of the sudden it seems he's gone back to his sweet and innocent self, despite what just occurred. Your kisses become softer until you eventually stop, he wraps his arms around you, and you bury your head into his chest. After a while, he speaks out in a soft and quiet voice. 

"So, what was it you were watching?"

You smile bashfully. "It was a sex scene in a show I've been watching."

He chuckles and pulls you closer. "You're so cute y/n."

[mymegumi]

drifting lights

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.0k words

warnings: late night drive, sad thoughts, idk, driving and swears

note: another repost from zumis, but anyways giggles i hope you like it bc i wrote a bit more and edited it!!

dedicated: to @tetsustation as an apology for saying i hoped furudate’s least fav char would be kuroo </3 it was a joke /lh

“hey,” kuroo’s words are soft in your ear, volume turned down on your phone to make sure your roommates don’t wake up, “did i wake you?”

“mm,” you’re still groggy from sleep and his voice is a soft timbre against your ear, “s’okay, what’s up?

“can’t a guy just call his girlfriend?”

you hum as you think, turning in bed as you tuck your blanket underneath your chin. across the room, your eyes are blurrily trying to focus on the blinding red letters sitting idly on your analog clock. “not when it’s almost two am, ‘suro.”

“well,” he at least has the decency to sound as apologetic as he can over the phone, “i really did just miss you, wanted to hear your voice.”

it’s only kuroo’s fault when your phone slips from your hands, pillow pressed to your face with your hands as you scream as silently as you can into it. without meaning to, he makes butterflies erupt in your stomach and you try to gather yourself as you bring your phone back up to your ear, hand loosely against your mouth.

“it is way too early for you to be doing this to me,” your scolding is light, and from his faint chuckle, has most likely fallen on deaf ears, “is there anything you want me to do for you?”

there’s a pause and you can hear a little bit of shuffling around from kuroo’s end of the phone before his voice is back, slightly softer than before, “you could come outside.”

“what?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” you can practically hear the teasing smile that’s on his face as you sit up in your bed, pushing the curtain away from your window to look outside. sure enough, you can recognize the silhouette of your boyfriend faintly illuminated by the streetlight, “come outside.”

“you’re so lucky,” his laughter is cut short as you hang up on him. you climb out of bed and grab a hoodie off of your desk chair, shoving your phone in your pocket as you open your door as quietly as possible.

sneaking downstairs isn’t an issue, and while you shove your shoes on carelessly, you take the quick minute you’re standing still to shove the sweater you had stolen from kuroo over your head. it hangs low, but you’re pulling the heel of your shoes back into their rightful positions as you’re leaving your house.

the door closes with a soft click, and a pair of hands end up resting on your hips as a familiar weight is pressed against the top of your head. it’s not long before kuroo’s arms are wrapped around your waist firmly, and you know you’re not getting out of it until he feels like letting you go, so you lean back into him.

your eyes close as you place your hand over his hands. you keep your voice low as you turn your head to try and get a glance at him, “are you okay?”

the silence itself is enough of an answer for you that you just run your thumb along the ridges of his knuckles. kuroo is one of the best communicators you’d ever dated, and it was always a bad sign if he was being too silent about what was going on inside of his head. you’d learned that unlike many of your friends, kuroo preferred the silence of your presence rather than small talk if he wasn’t feeling his best.

you turn your head backwards at an odd angle to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw as he holds you gently, the only light being the moon over your heads and the warm yellow glow coming from the streetlight a few feet away from your front steps. he’s still quiet when you end up turning in his arms, nose tucked into the warm spot where his pulse rests, steady and loud as you stand on your front step for a few seconds. it reminds you that he’s real and is a tangible reminder of the man you love.

kuroo’s car is parked on the side of the road a little ways away, lights off and engine running as he starts running his hands through your hair. it’s light, right by the outside of your ear and he kisses the crown of your head with soothing touches.

“wanna go on a drive?” his words are barely above a whisper and you can only nod against him, not wanting to move too much before you have. his hands leave your hair as he steps back to look at you.

most of his face is just shadows, the light illuminating the outer edges of his hair but you can still manage to distinguish the handsome lines of his face. despite covering an eye, he’s always had the type of face that you always want to look at and even almost two years into your relationship, that fact still hasn’t changed. when he offers you the smallest of smiles, you can see the exhaustion lining his expression, laced between the adoration he has for you in his eyes.

his hands find their way to your cheeks, cupping carefully as he rubs a finger along the curve of your cheekbone. he leans down to rub your noses together for a second, eyes slipping close and he looks at ease for a brief moment before sealing your lips together.

your hands hang off of his forearms as you press close together, warmth finding you in each other’s embrace. kuroo’s kiss is slow, unhurried, and it steals the sleepiness from you as he turns his head to the side slightly. he tastes like laughter on a summer day, endless nights filled with your hands shoved outside of the sunroof of your too-old-to-be-on-the-road car, and the citrusy tang of clementines and oranges you’d stole from your neighbor.

in the next few minutes the two of you share a few more kisses, each as quick and as dizzying as the one before. as he pulls away, you’re relieved to see some of the stress shed from his expression, eyes bright and awake as he looks back at you. his hand winds with yours as you start the walk to his car, lazily making your way there.

he pulls the door of his car open for you, waiting for you to get in before walking around the front to his own side. when he gets into the car, he double checks to make sure you’re buckled in before he puts his car into drive, pulling out onto your street as he fishes his phone out of his pocket for you.

“any preferences for tonight’s playlist?” unlocking his phone, you’re somewhere on his spotify—scrolling through the amalgamation of absolutely atrocious study playlist names he’d crafted over the years—when he finally settles on something a bit more relaxing than his most recently played playlist.

together, the two of you enjoy the passing scenery as you start to slip into tokyo’s nightscape. the lights are bright and you can’t help but be mesmerized by them as kuroo drives, no end destination in mind, just wanting to enjoy each other’s presence for the moment.

kuroo has always been spontaneous like this for as long as you have been dating. in fact, he had asked you out on a whim, coming off the high of winning a volleyball game in high school. you were in the crowd because he had asked you to come watch him. you wouldn’t get the privilege of wearing his jersey until you became official, but you still decided to represent your school in a borrowed sweater you had stolen from him.

he was sweaty, but his smile was so radiant when he looked up at you leaning over the railing protecting you from falling. he waved with both hands, and you had waved back with matched enthusiasm.

kuroo had ended up yelling up to you, asking you out for the very first time in front of everyone who had come to watch. while you hated the attention, you had nodded hurriedly before making your way down to the court to get enveloped in a big, sweaty kuroo hug.

you distinctly remember kenma thanking you later for saving him from having to hug kuroo that night.

“love,” your hand finds his where it rests near the shifter, “what brought this on?”

your head is leaning against the headrest as he sighs softly, turning his hand over to twine your fingers together in a warm grasp, “i just, i couldn’t stop thinking.”

you make a noise of acknowledgement, knowing that he would know that you were listening, but just letting him take his time to tell you what was going on. while very spontaneous, kuroo wasn’t one for staying up too late, citing that a good night’s sleep was one of the first and best steps you could take for a better education. his dedication was one of the things you admire about him, even if it meant you were missing your boyfriend for a good hour at night

“i’m just worried,” his admission is barely audible over the music playing and the soothing rumble of his car’s engine as you change lanes on the highway, “about everything that’s changing.”

“i know that things have to change,” while he talks, you just watch, the lines of stress crossing over his face almost disappearing in the darkness, “but i don’t want to leave school. i’ve made so many friends and i met you, and i just can’t help but feel scared for what’s going to happen when we don’t have it anymore.”

you tighten your grip where your hands rest as you smile at him, despite the fact he’s focusing on the road, “‘suro, you know how you made a lot of good friends in school?”

he nods ever so slightly, voice cracking just slightly as he answers, “yeah.”

“just think about all the friends you’re going to make when you go into the real world,” you’re worrying your thumb over the back of his hand, “you’re very charismatic, and you’re good with other people, smart, too. you’re not lacking in great qualities, and people will recognize that.”

“not to mention,” you’ve adjusted yourself in your seat, tucking a leg underneath yourself so that you can face him more directly, “kenma, yaku, nobuyuki, and myself will always answer when you call or text. you’ll be away from home, but we’ll all be available for you, ‘suro.”

“we’re leaving school,” you start, eyes tracing the skyline of the city as you feel a small smile spread across your lips, “but life won’t end, and our friends won’t stop being our friends, and i’ll never stop being yours.”

you’re pulling up to a stoplight when he turns to look at you, side of his face bright red from the light as he gives you an easy going smile. you press the palm of your free hand to his cheek, and his eyes close, savoring the moment. he pulls your joined hands together to kiss your knuckles, featherlight before pulling away to lean across his center console.

“i love you,” his words are a mumble against your lips as you enjoy the quiet moment.

it’s almost three am, now, so when the light turns green, the pair of you are unconcerned as kuroo doesn’t press his foot against the gas, instead just content to be with each other. the changing colors of the stoplight is a backdrop to the press of his lips, a hand curling into his hair as he pulls you closer to him over the center console.it digs into your side a bit, and the seatbelt presses into your chest at an uncomfortable angle, but it’s all very you and kuroo so you don’t mind it.

kuroo’s worries won’t disappear overnight, and you know that you can only begin to soothe the deep seeded insecurities he holds. you’ll be content as long as he knows you’ll always be there to drive with him and watch the sunrise together, your fingers laced with his.