wh-wh-whu

[lesenbyan]

Me: listening to So You Want To Talk About Race

Me: oh I am learning a lot about my relationship to blackness in this book written by another black woman raised by a white parent (identities to that differing widely)

[dogearedheart]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)

[slippery-minghus]

ah. have officially hit the point of exhaustion for this move that unless someone literally sets a plate of food in front of me, i'm not going to be able to feed myself.

well... i will be able to feed myself. because i'm amazing at breaking through my own limits no matter the cost, because support is not something i get to have. it's fine. i'm great at this. having support needs is irrelevant when there is no one *to* help. so i just gotta figure it out.

[lyrasjordan]

.

[trans-leek-cookie]

why am I so tired when I haven't done anything

(has been having a wildly garbage sleep schedule and length bc I did a social event to celebrate the end of the semester that I cooked a labor intensibe dish for and then existed in for like 2 hours with mild anxiety)

It's a mystery

[bogleech]

TOP TEN DINOSAURUSES

maybe you're wondering my most tenned favorite dinosauruses??? The science study of dinasacacers is called "dinosaurusology" by leading experts like myself, and it is constantly changing as we make new uncoveries almost every tuesday when we find new bones in my cousin rob's garage (he hasn't thrown anything out since the 90's!) As such bear in mind that up to two facts I am about to share could become dated over the course of the next century, however as both the king and queen of science this will only be true if I'm still available to approve the new facts. If I'm dead or kind of tired then nobody will ever know what's true anymore so you should be nice to me. #10: OVIRAPTOR

OVIRAPTOR was a good model for what all dinosacans were like: it was a wrinkly lizard that slithered in filthy dirt and had difficulty standing upright because its bones were made of rocks. This is why we have the term "the stone age," so be grateful you're living in "the bone age!" Oviraptor's name means "eggs velociraptor" because it was a kind of velociraptor that stole eggs. It didn't know what to do with them because nobody invented cooking yet and raw dinosaur eggs were disgusting, so every oviraptor starved to death.

#9: IGUANADON

This was the last known photograph of IGUANA DON (not to be confused with his cousin iguana dan) when george washington invented photographs 2 million years ago. Don was an ugly disgusting hilarious lizard monster with one horn on its nose and he died because he evolved a dining room in his torso exactly the right size for 21 cavemen to walk in and eat his kidneys. This was not helped by don's instinct to sleep on a big porch under a chandelier.

#9 DIMETRODON

DIMETRODON was the most common dinosaur of jurassic, which was the fifth and final era of dinosaurs after the ice age but before the ediacaran. In fact dimetrodon was the very last dinosaur to ever exist on earth before they were all eaten to death by the ediacaran's dominant predator: a species of swirly looking weird rock. Nobody knows why these swirly looking weird rocks died out, but it's most likely because dimetrodon was so poisonous from its diet of entirely pufferfish. You can tell it was a sea dinosaur because of its fish fin! #8: PTERADACTYL

PTERODACTYL was a regular dinosaur until it got married to a species of bat and its bat wife laid a bunch of pterodactyl eggs! This woodcut is however inaccurate: flying would not be invented until president obama discovered the first airplane in 1998, so pterodactyl couldn't possibly have stayed in the air and just immediately fell. The long 900 million year reign of the pterodactyl abruptly ended when the last one finally hit the ground (it took longer in those days because the oxygen disaster made so much more air) #7 SNORKASAURUS

SNORKASAURUS was completely unique among all dinocaurs by having a really long neck. It was one of the largest creatures to ever roam the earth at over 7 feet tall, or exactly 12 meters to those of you living in Liberia or Myanmar! This is the last known photograph of snorkasaurus, giving birth to the first cavemen. Snorkasaurus went extinct because all of them did this instead of making baby snorkasauruses. This is because like all dinosaurii they had only a tiny peanut for a brain, and nobody was around to give them 'the talk' because that wasn't invented yet.

#6 SMILODON

SMILODON was a very special dinosaurn because it was the first one to stand up on its hind legs after years of rigorous exercise and weight training. By inventing this new way of walking, Smilodon made it possible for the first monkeys to evolve! This is called "convergent" evolution.

#5 BULBASAUR

BULBASAUR was a majestic and beautiful species of neopet unfortunately disliked by the scientific community because it is the reason there are no flying dinosuars. Bulbasaur was the first ever flying dyanasar ever invented, 19 billion years ago on September 10, 2001, but the project was discontinued when its first test flight ended in a tragic accident. That's right: on September 11, 2001, Bulbasaur crashed into the stock market, causing the great depression that lead to the civil war :'( now to this very day, flying dinosarers are against the law.

#4 YOSHI

YOSHI is a type of dinersaulophus called a "bird," which was actually the second attempt by early neanderthal alchemists to manufacture a street legal flying dinnersauran, but the New Zealand government realized if dinophlofbuses can fly, then bats would no longer be special, and since bats are New Zealand's only major export it would have been an economic disaster. The queen of Australia (New Zealand's largest city) ordered the CIA to sand all of the wings off of these early prototype birds. Every bird tragically went extinct when it looked down, noticed how high up it was and remembered it could not fly, activating the effects of Earth's gravitational field.

#3 ANOMALOCARIS

ANOMALOCARIS was the dinosorcerous that discovered the first primitive cave painting of a modern day crab and invented carcinisation. All the other dinanders laughed at Anomalocaris for wanting to turn into a crab, but guess what??? Every single kind of dinosaur is dead but there's a crab still alive at 29, making it the oldest person in the world. Who's FUCKING laughing now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#2 EARL SINCLAIR

This is the last known photograph of Earl Sinclair, seen here as an uncredited extra in "Avatar 3: Lost in New York." Earl Sinclair was a sindonaur species that could disguise itself as a human by putting on sunglasses, a necessary adaptation in order to hide from the largest predator dancasore to ever live: Mellisuga helenae. However, near the end of the coal age, M. Helenae finally remembered that sunglasses hadn't even been invented yet. Look carefully, and you'll notice nobody is wearing sunglasses at all in this scene, making Earl Sinclair stick out like a sore thumb! If you're still having difficulty, here's a zoomed in image of this majestic thunder lizard:

Unfortunately......this wardrobe malfunction made Mr. Sinclair just as obvious to his ancient enemy, and the last Earl Sinclair's brains were sucked out on September 11, 2001, the darkest day in British history because he was the only one who knew the recipe to chicken mcnuggets (the only british food.) To this day all british people are extinct but you can still see their fossilized skeletons waiting in line at the department of motor vehicles.

#1 CONCAVENATOR

Concavenator was an Early Cretaceous carcharodontosaurid up to six meters in length with an unusual pointed crest on its back.

[a-hazbin-reader]

To move away from all the angst I’d like to request a VERY fluffy request please!

I don’t know if Y/N has given birth to their third child yet but if they haven’t what about like having really weird cravings late at night and waking Alastor up so he can make us what we crave

As we should

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None, I think???

Description: ☝️⬆️

Your pregnancy cravings never failed to surprise Alastor with your first pregnancy but the second time around knocked him off his feet

The first pregnancy had you asking for some pretty strange but not totally disgusting combinations

Alastor was pretty sure he saw you trying to take a bite out of one of his tentacles once

Even then, he didn't think it was all that crazy that your body craved that

But this time? Alastor is worried that his unborn spawn is trying to kill you via poisoning

He just doesn't understand what he got himself into this time around because your cravings are HORRIFIC

You asked for things that made him want to gag but he never let it show, not wanting to upset you

Sure, he'll joke about it, but he doesn't want you thinking that you're disgusting because you have a craving that you can't help

Your hormones were an entirely different beast to tangle with, one pregnancy problem at a time

Alastor hadn't really had a need for sleep before but that's changed ever since his family started growing

Now he's waking up nearly every night out of a dead sleep to you, shaking his shoulder and asking him for some monstrosity to eat

You're whispering something to him but he's too tired to understand what you're saying

"Alastor... Darling... Wake up, I'm really hungry..."

Your persistent shaking of his shoulder begins to rouse him and he turns his head towards you, eyes still shut

"Hn... Hm..?"

He can hear the whine in your voice, some dreamy part of his brain thinking that you sound cute like this

"I really want to eat fried squid and strawberry ice cream...please..?"

The overwhelming disgust he feels at your request makes him wide awake, sitting up to give you a baffled look

"Why would you-HOW-Where would I even get that at this hour!?"

You blink and stare at him like it's obvious, then you put on a faux pout and rub his arm slowly, scooting closer to him

"Get it? No, I want you to make it for me...please..? You always make the best food..."

Stroking his ego always works for you, the poor man knowing his been got as he signs and gets out of bed, you waddling after him happily

He dutifully makes everything for you from scratch, your happy cooing behind him making it feel a little less ridiculous for him to be up and cooking at this hour

Alastor genuinely can't watch you eat it, having to look away to keep his gagging under control, even if you look like you're in heaven right now

When you ask for pickled peppers to dip into the rest of it is when he has to leave the room, what you're doing to food is monstrous

And he's a cannibal

Once he gets a grip on his stomach, he comes back to find you no longer alone in the kitchen, now feeding his darling twins some of your food

They make disgusted faces at the combination and instead try to take your ice cream, something that makes you laugh

"I suppose it is pretty gross, huh? Your poor papa can't even begin to wrap his head around these cravings~"

You smile and feed each of the twins a bite of ice cream before noticing Alastor, blushing at the fact that you got caught

"I walk away for five minutes and you're poisoning my children?"

You gasp and hug the twins close to your body, making a shocked face as you pretend to be flabbergasted

"Poison? MY babies just wanted a little treat before they went back to bed..!"

The way his twins turn to stare at him with wide innocent eyes as they cling to you makes his heart melt at the sight

"Is that so? Well, they've had their treat, and now it is time for little fawns to go back to bed~"

At first they put up a fight, whining and climbing you until you threaten to give them another bite of your midnight snack, pushing a bite in their faces

Suddenly, running into papa's arms and going back to sleep doesn't seem as bad to them now

Together, you two manage to get your children back to bed before laying down in your own bed, cuddling close to each other

Alastor is rubbing your baby bump and nuzzling the back of your neck, soothing you back to sleep

You're practically purring from all the attention, stomach full, muscles relaxed, and your husband wrapped around you

"Mn...thank you for the food, darling..."

He can't help but chuckle as you put your hand over his own, your cravings finally subsiding and allowing you to sleep

"I'm not sure that concoction qualified as food, but you're welcome, nonetheless, my dear~"

You elbow him playfully as he kisses your neck, less than amused by his jabs at your pregnancy cravings, you couldn't help it

"Maybe you should sleep on the couch."

"So sorry, darling~"

He doesn't even try to sound a little sorry, instead pulling you closer as you two fall asleep together, blissful

The next night, when you ask for something even worse than before, Alastor gets up and is ready to do it all over again

He thinks your cravings are horrific and probably doing damage to his sanity but he'll do anything for his wife

Especially when it's somewhat his fault you even want to eat these things

Even if it means making food combinations so terrible that if he died, he would go to double hell for it

This one took so long I'm so SORRY

[livingformintyoongi]

can i request yoongi fucking his gf in his hoodie. first he will cuddle with her in the kitchen while leaving kisses on her neck and then he will slowly become horny and at one point he will say 'I want to fuck you while you are wearing my hoodie' (you can choose for yourself whether rough or soft sex, also let it be in the first person, but if it can't, it's fine, thank you in advance, sorry for my eng )

— myg’s butterfly 🦋

Hoodie

a/n: First of all, sorry for taking so long, it took me so long to start the request because I wasn't sure how to start it :( I hope it went as you expected. Second, I totally loved the idea, it was so cute and so similar to the kind of relationship my oc and Yoongi have that it was just perfect AH-. I decided to go more for something a bit soft and with a joke or two in between, hope you don't mind. I tried to do it with first person, but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't end up liking how it turned out, sorry :c. And third, don't worry about your English! It was perfectly understood ^^. wc: 3.1k warnings: MDNI, unprotected sex, hair pulling, kitchen sex, (very) slight dry humping, fingering, breeding. taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss

"What are you doing?" whispered Yoongi, hugging your waist from behind. His large, soft hands moved lazily underneath the hoodie you were wearing, allowing himself to caress your bare waist. He smiled as he felt you shiver at the cool touch of his fingers.

"I was craving something yummy and it was too late to order anything, so I decided to, you know, do it by myself," you chuckled as you felt your boyfriend's nose brush against your neck, by this point it was almost an impulse to lean against him every time he did that, "Did you finish the song?"

"I'm still not entirely sold on it, I thought I'd better take a break to see if it would spark something new" he kissed your shoulder softly, pulling you even closer to his body. You felt so warm against him, he loved that feeling, loved how you could make him feel with your simple presence. 

"That's actually a great idea, try to rest that poor brain of yours, I'm more than sure it must be tired from so much you make it think about work" you turned off the stove, turning around so you could hug his waist. You watched as Yoongi lowered his gaze to the hoodie you were wearing. His eyebrows rose as soon as he met your gaze again.

"Isn't that mine?" he asked teasingly, pulling you closer to him around the waist. Now both of your noses were rubbing together, neither could look into anything but the other's eyes. He closed his as he felt your arms go from around his waist to hugging his neck, the soft brush of your nose against his making him sigh.

"Yoonie, it's time for you to understand that there is no longer something 'yours' or 'mine', but something 'ours', your stuff belongs to me, and my stuff belongs to you" you laughed, leaving a kiss on his nose. 

"I see, I guess I forgot that little detail" he rolled his eyes, the smile on his lips still shining brightly, how was it possible that this beautiful man was in your kitchen, hugging you tightly, looking at you as if you were the best thing in this world? Even you didn't quite understand, but you would never complain about it. 

"Don't worry, that's what I'm here for" you winked playfully at him, running your hands through his dark hair. It still felt a little damp from the shower he had taken a few hours ago. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish this" you pointed to the food behind you, you hadn't started long ago, so you still had a lot left to do before you could serve the food. 

"Oh right, you were cooking" he mumbled, still keeping his grip on you, "you can cook with me on your back".

"Was that a question or a statement?" you shook your head, turning around, still not being let go by Yoongi. You felt his chin rest on your shoulder, his gaze fixed on the vegetables resting on the pan.

"It's a statement, I don't plan to let go of you." 

You couldn't help but smile big hearing him say that. Yoongi was not a cold person to you, in fact, he was quite sweet. He was always attentive to everything you did and said, he kissed your knuckles every time there was a red light at the traffic light, he caressed your thigh every time you watched something on TV, sometimes he even gave you chaste kisses in public. However, he was rarely this cloyingly sweet, he had to be too drunk or sleepy to cling to you in this way, so of course you were going to let him regale you in this way without saying anything to him.

You had Yoongi on your back for at least ten minutes and, although at first it seemed normal for him to give you the occasional kiss on your neck, by this point you were beginning to doubt his intentions, why on earth would he be practically biting and sucking on your neck while pressing himself against you? That's not just a simple token of affection anymore.

"Uhm, Yoongi, what are you doing?" you asked in the middle of a gasp, feeling his teeth clench the sensitive skin of your neck, sending an electric current around your entire body. He knew what he was doing, and he knew even better the effect it would have on you.

"Giving my girlfriend affection, isn't it obvious?" he replied teasingly, still torturing your neck which, after all the time he spent biting and sucking, was starting to get redder and redder. 

"I know you well enough to know you're not doing this just because you want to give me affection" you bit the inside of your lip as you felt his hand wrap around one of your breasts. You were used to not wearing a bra at home, it was so much more comfortable and hurt so much less, but sometimes you forgot how much Yoongi took advantage of that to tease you like this.

"Is it wrong that I want to fuck my beautiful girlfriend while she's wearing my hoodie?" he whispered against the shell of your ear, barely biting down on a patch of skin, tugging on it gently. 

"I mean, it's not bad, but I'm busy and..." you had to bite your tongue to keep from moaning as you felt his cock slap against your thigh. Yes, he was excited and it was very hard not to notice, and it was starting to get even harder not to want to help him with that little - big - problem he was starting to have.

"It can wait a little longer, besides it's almost ready, isn't it? We won't be long, I promise" he went back to lazily massaging your breasts, his mouth still moving from one shoulder to the other, leaving little marks here and there, smiling every time he saw one pop up.

You were beginning to entertain the idea of accepting his idea. He wasn't so wrong, in fact you were nowhere near the end of cooking, a few more minutes of waiting wouldn't hurt anyone, would it?

"I hope you're telling the truth when you say it'll be quick" you muttered, turning off the stove with slightly shaking hands. No matter how long you had been by his side, the effect he had on you never changed, and you doubted it would in the future.

You squealed as you felt Yoongi's hands wrap around your waist tightly, lifting you off the floor and taking you straight to your kitchen counter, "Hey! You know I don't like doing it here, you'll mess up my-" you didn't get to finish and his lips were already on yours, his hands firmly but gently firming your neck so he could pull you even closer to him. You felt his tongue brush against your inner lip and, almost a second later, you allowed him free access to your mouth. His free hand lingered on your hip, giving it casual squeezes every so often, burying his short nails in the black fabric of his hoodie that perfectly covered that part of your body.

You moaned against his lips as you felt that same hand force you to crawl across the countertop until you bumped roughly against his own hips, generating friction between the two of you. He gladly swallowed every gasp you let out as the clash between the two of you grew louder and more precise.

"Yoongi" you gasped against his lips, clinging to his shoulders as if your life depended on it. His lips trailed down to your jaw, leaving a trail of small but sticky kisses all along your neck and shoulders. His hands fiddled with the soft fabric of the hoodie you were wearing, internally debating whether or not it was worth taking it off. He looked up. Your lips moist and swollen from the kissing session they had just had, your pupils were so dilated he could barely make out your irises, your freckled cheeks slightly flushed, spreading that color all the way to the tips of your ears, how could he resist that sight? How could he resist you?

"Fuck, you're so beautiful" he murmured, leaning back on the countertop, your hips still completely glued to his. "So fucking beautiful, I can't even take in the fact that you're mine."

You were a little groggy from the heat of the moment, so it took a little while for your brain to fully assimilate what he had just said. You felt the heat rise in your face, spreading quickly to your neck and ears. If you felt hot before, now you were boiling hot.

Yoongi wasn't too aware of your face, his eyes were fixed on how smooth the skin of your bare thighs looked. He licked his lips and lifted the hoodie up to above your hips, smiling at the sight of the underwear you were wearing. 

"Really, you wore one with hearts on it?" he chuckled, settling between your legs. His laughter became much louder after he felt you close your legs tightly around his head in protest.

"Shut the fuck up, it's just underwear, besides, it's not like I can guess when you're in the mood to fuck or not enough to put something nice on underneath, you know?" you rested one of your hands on her hair, tangling your fingers in it.

"I didn't say it was anything bad, don't get defensive either, honey" he murmured, smirking arrogantly at the sight of your already damp underwear, "I guess I wasn't the only one waiting for this, huh? Just look at this, so wet just from some light kissing and rubbing?" he moved his face closer to your center, brushing his fingers against your clit. He raised his eyebrows at the way you squirmed almost immediately at his touch. "We seem to be sensitive today."

You pursed your lips at his remark, you didn't like at all to accept the fact that you were much more sensitive than usual, but you couldn't deny it either, it was too obvious a thing to do. 

Both you and Yoongi moaned the moment he put his tongue on you, licking your wetness over your underwear. You clung to his locks of hair, letting your head fall back. The contact may not have been direct, but that didn't detract from how fucking good it felt to have his tongue on your clothed pussy. 

"Shit" you moaned haltingly, watching as Yoongi gave little cat licks around your hole only to return to your clit, suck on it, and repeat all over again. You wrapped your legs around his neck, wanting and needing to hold him closer.

"You taste so sweet" he sighed against the damp fabric, teasing your core even more because of the warm air crashing against your center. He pushed aside your underwear, bringing his fingers closer just so he could spread it wide open. Your clit was already quite swollen and your pussy looked so shiny, so tight. He could see from where he stood how it shrank into nothingness. He swallowed saliva as he imagined it would be his cock that you would be squeezing like that very soon. 

He straightened in place, looking intently at your figure. Mostly was wrapped in his hoodie, but there was something about the way it fit you that turned him on in such a way that his cock was barely resisting the pressure of his pants. 

He leaned over your body, one of his hands stopped on your hip and the other between your legs. Two of his fingers entered your pussy, stretching and ramming it as he pleased. You brought his face close to yours, kissing it carelessly. You moaned as you tasted your taste on his tongue, his teeth clashing with yours and his hands moving in a rhythm that made you shudder with each thrust. You loved it when your boyfriend was this excited.

"Yoongi, I need- Oh, god" you closed your eyes tightly as you felt his long fingers crash hard against your G-spot. You weren't even sure how you didn't cry out at the contact, "Could you put it in, like, now?".

He laughed softly, hitting your sensitive spot a couple more times, smiling as he listened to your moans covered in groans and gasps, "So desperate..." he pulled down the hoodie you were wearing a little, just enough to bring part of your breasts into view. He reached down to your chest, leaving a rather noticeable mark on the spot and, only then, pulled his fingers out from inside you. "Here, suck" you looked down, noticing how Yoongi extended the fingers he just pulled out from inside you in the direction of your mouth. He stared at you with those deep, dark eyes that he knew you could never refuse anything. 

Yoongi smirked at the sight of you as you slipped his fingers into your mouth, licking them animatedly. You held his wrist with one of your hands, hoping that would somehow make your job a little easier. He wouldn't let you stop until all your essence was gone from his fingers and, only then, would he fuck you. You knew his ways well.

"Ah, you are so obedient" he smiled with his eyes fixed on your lips wrapping his fingers. His free hand rested on your head, gently patting it. Almost instantly he tangled his fingers in your hair and tugged on it, pulling your mouth away from his fingers. He unbuttoned his pants, his gaze fixed on how your lips were held ajar. How he loved how beautifully delicious your lips looked. 

It didn't take him long to get his cock free, just as it didn't take him long to line it up with your entrance and tease it with little thrusts against your hole, barely pressing your clit with his head. He let out a chuckle as he noticed your frown.

"Stop teasing, you promised it would be quick." 

"You're right, sorry, sorry" he laughed softly, leaving a gentle kiss against your lips as he lined his cock back up with your entrance, "Do you feel ready?".

"Yes" you answered much faster than you'd like to admit, but by this point it didn't even matter anymore. You were desperate, but so was he, so what did it matter? 

"Good" he murmured, thrusting his cock inside you in one thrust. You had to hold your breath to keep from screaming. "Fuck, babe, you're so tight" he took a breath of air, holding onto your waist to keep a little control of his movements. 

"Yoongi" you gasped, clinging to his shoulders, hiding your face in his neck. You felt so full with him inside you, you could feel him everywhere, with every fiber of your being. 

He licked his lips, clinging to your waist as he began his onslaught. Normally he would start at a much faster pace, but this time you felt so tight that he didn't think he would be able to move without cumming in the attempt. 

You took advantage of your position to kiss and mark the exposed skin left by Yoongi's shirt, leaving hickeys and nibbles along his shoulders. Yoongi, for his part, was beginning to quicken his pace, each thrust feeling deeper than the last, harder than the last. It was almost impossible to hold back your screams.

"It feels good, so good" you whispered between gasps, resting your head on the countertop, closing your eyes to feel his movements more intensely. Slowly the knot in your lower belly was starting to become more noticeable, and your body, responding to that intense feeling, started to move against Yoongi's, needing to reach that long awaited release that made you see stars every single time.

"I know, fuck, I know" he rested his forehead against your shoulder, grinding his hips against yours in desperation. He was in the same situation as you, and that he was moving you against him at the same time he was ramming your pussy didn't help his situation much. He bit his lower lip lightly, bringing one of his hands to your womanhood, using his fingers to tease your clit.

Your whole body trembled against the countertop at his touch, the knot getting tighter and tighter, preventing you from thinking clearly. It didn't help much that Yoongi had found your G-spot again, using that to his advantage to bring you even closer to your climax.

"Yoongi, I don't... I can't... it's too much" you struggled a bit to formulate the sentence properly, each word ending up coming out as a moan, but Yoongi seemed to have understood you, or so you thought as he leaned against your chest, kissing you deeply while grinding his hips against yours desperately. 

Almost instantly you shuddered against his body, feeling a rush of excitement run through you as the knot in your stomach unraveled and your longed-for release had finally arrived. 

Yoongi soon followed, thrusting hard and long as he let his seed fill your insides. 

You both stood for a moment in silence. Yoongi's face remained hidden in your neck, kissing your skin from time to time; you, for your part, kept looking up at your kitchen ceiling, trying to regulate your breathing. It wasn't until you both calmed down that one of you opened your mouth to break the silence.

"You're going to clean my kitchen, and you're going to do it as soon as I can feel my legs again" you muttered, trying to sound as serious as possible. You were sure it didn't work after you heard him laugh over your shoulder.

"It's okay, I'll clean up" he mumbled with a smile, lifting his face to come face to face with you. "One last kiss before I have to clean up this mess?".

You smiled at his request, cupping his cheeks in your hands so you could pull him close to you and leave a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. "Better?"

"Much better" he nodded with his gummy smile, kissing your cheek sonorously. "Now, Miss Y/L/N, I need to get this over with before my girlfriend catches me."

You rolled your eyes in amusement, watching as Yoongi emerged from inside you, arranging both of your clothes and helping you down from the counter, "I'll wait for you in bed, I found a movie I'm sure you'll love."

"I'll be there" he whispered with a smile, giving you one last kiss before focusing entirely on cleaning your kitchen.

Masterlist.

[httpsghostie]

Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that. 

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games. 

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Don't cry over spilled milk ◦ l.f

-Accidents happen is an easy thing to say when your daughter didn't just dump a cup of milk on your husband's new black carpet and all of a sudden— you can't breathe

Paring◦ Dad!Lee Felix x Mom!Reader

Words◦ 1633

Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this was like really angsty and I didn't mean for it to be 😭, definitely fluffy towards the end though

Warnings ◦ Kinda points towards the fact that the reader might have been abused, descriptions of the readers father being an asshole, talk about abuse, the term beating black and blue, crying, spilled milk, Felix being sickeningly sweet, overuse of love, descriptions of bad dreams, trauma, bleeding, bad thoughts, and wounds (all these are metaphors).

Taglist◦@thetoastghost222I hope you like it <33

A/N ◦this is just something simple and cute I cooked up real fast I didn't really put too much thought into it honestly I just let my brain go also don't judge me but I literally just looked up "cute Korean girl names that mean sunshine" in the search engine and picked the first thing so... also I'm going to be reuploading all my old stuff into my new blog in one fair swoop soooo I'm rereading this and there's something about my writing I have always noticed is off so if anybody can point it out/ give me advice I would literally appreciate it so much

~cookiecreates 🍪

You took "Don't cry over spilled milk" very seriously because it took every fiber of your being not to sob when Ha-Yun's glass of milk dropped on Felix's new carpet, throwing a vibrant white stain on the expensive black furnishing. You really don't know how many different adjectives your brain could come up with to describe the horror you felt pounding in your heart.

It was as though this moment was a portal into the deepest caverns of your mind—a key that unlocked a swarm of memories flickering in the back of your brain like fireflies. You squeeze your eyes shut, pushing back the flood of bad feelings that seem to wash over you quicker than you can wipe them away—You're transported back to those days when your head was high and your hands were small, spilling milk on your dad's new carpet. You were so little, so naive, you didn't know that the world wasn't all butterflies and unicorns; that milk stained and dads got mad. You vowed to be the parent who held their baby's hand as they picked it up, smiling when they threw the dirty towel in the trash. 

Accidents happen.

Accidents happen.

Accidents happen.

But you don't know if that's what Felix vowed to do, and with the carpet being 600 dollars, you wouldn't be surprised if he beat the poor girl black and blue.

Just like your dad did. 

Your fingers tremble as you grip the cup in your hands, the world seems to swirl around you, swimming in all your bad dreams. It only took a teaspoon to die and a bad thought to drown. How easy it is to be pulled under the waves when you're vulnerable. You thought you kept the sea at bay, but even the most experienced divers can get pulled into a riptide. 

The cup clatters in the sink, startling you out of your thoughts. Ha-Yun babbles in the corner, throwing cheerios to the ground. This was all your fault; you shouldn't have put her high chair in the living room. 

All your fault.

All your fault.

All your-

The lock clicks.

Your heart drops, plummeting into the grave in which you buried all your pain. You scramble to find something to cover the stain. In all your panic, you forget that shit doesn't magically go away, sticking to your skin like syrup dripping down your spine. Everything was spinning in your vision as your lungs contracted, you wondered if you could really drown in theoretical oceans, especially the ones that occupied your mind.

It all seemed so silly as Felix's frame came into view, like he was made entirely from watercolor pouring down the page. You threw the towel over the mess, attempting to conceal your sobs.

Maybe he'll walk away.

Maybe he's too tired to notice.

Maybe you can spare his wrath.

“Love,” Felix's deep voice floats into your ears like cotton candy disintegrating under the waves of words you drown in. Scars were never promises on the skin; the human body is a delicate chemistry, and with the right motivation, it can crumble.

You snap. Break apart. Succumb to the river of sentences that stuck to your skin, like honey and glass. Time heals all wounds, but what about the ones that never scar, never scab? What about the ones whose vile words poisoned the flesh, eating away at your soul? Time doesn't heal all wounds because sometimes wounds are just too deep. Strong arms wrap around your huddled frame, your face drawn to your knees. 

“I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." you sob mindlessly, it was as though your younger self control—caught in a weird form of fight or flight—dissociating from reality.

“Sorry? Sorry for what, love?” He whispers, dropping to the floor and pulling you onto his lap. He's so gentle, so calm, so completely opposite of any love you have ever felt or any father you have ever seen.

"Milk-" You choke; your words getting caught in your throat. You dig your face into his shoulder. "She spilled the milk on the carpet. I'm so sorry." The tears keep coming as though you're bleeding all the emotions you had kept under wraps for too long; it was like an infection, and Felix's loving arms cleansed your wounds.

"Oh, love," he coos, petting your hair, "didn't anybody ever tell you not to cry over spilled milk." You can't help but chuckle, a weird mix between a sniffle and a sob. 

You must look like such a wreck right now—face blotchy and red, snot dripping down your nose, tears pouring down your cheeks—you look like you just crawled out of the pits of hell, and he still looks at you like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on.

In that moment, you feel so silly, so stupid, kinda wanting to crawl back into the pits of hell from which you came. You should have known he wasn't going to react the way your father had. Felix was nothing like the man; he was kind, he was gentle, he was all sunshine and smiles, he was safe.

"I'm sorry for being such a wreck." You cuddle deeper into his chest, sniffling into his shirt. 

"Never be sorry for being human, and especially, never be sorry for showing me." It took everything in you not to break down again, letting his strong arms hold you while you scrubbed all the syrup from your soul, but you have a baby and a mess on the carpet that will be ten times harder to clean if you leave it sitting.

"I'll go get another towel," you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"Don't," he pulls you back down on his lap, “Put your arms around me.” You lock your hands behind his neck, yelping when he picks you up bridal style.

“What- Felix, what are you doing?” You squeal as he walks you to the couch, laying you gently on the cushions.

“I'm showing you how to clean up spilled milk,” He smirks like you didn't just destroy his 600-dollar carpet; his attitude genuinely baffles you.

"How are you not mad?” You whispered, dazed, your mind turning into mush. He tilts your chin up, peering at you with a soft smile and kind eyes. Your breath hitches, little heart eyes popping in your pupils. 

"Accidents happen, love, you never grow out of’em." You melt, literally disintegrating into a pile of goo on the couch.

"D-Do you, um, D-Do you need help?" You stutter, blinking harshly to try and gather your thoughts. It was as if his gentle heart short-circuited your tangled wires—knotted from years of wear and lack of care. 

"You just sit there and look pretty, and I'll show you why you shouldn't cry over spilled milk." He kisses you softly, smiling on your skin, "Okay, baby," he breathes, passion crackling between your lips, "You just keep-" Ha-Yun screeches, slapping her high chair full of Cheerios. Felix groans, tipping his forehead to touch yours. 

"You know, one of these days we've got to get a babysitter. I don't know how long I can stand just being able to admire my beautiful wife from afar," your cheeks burn as you tilt your head down bashfully, "Well maybe we can do that when milk isn't marinating on the floor," he claps, jumping up from his arched position, "yep, your right, jeez baby, you really know how to pull me away from a task."

You cheese, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face. "Go on," you shoo him away, "You were going to teach me something."

He smirks, walking over to the kitchen, pulling the roll of paper towels off the counter and tossing them down next to the mess, unlocking Ha-Yun's highchair to lift her out of it.

"What are you-"

"Shh sit there and look pretty," The way his eyes sparkle and his lips tilt makes him appear almost mischievous. You sink back into the couch, folding your arms in front of your chest, assessing him intently. Ha-Yun beams when she sees Felix, waving her arms around, spitting gobbly gook.

"Oh is that right, well I couldn't have ever guessed," he nods attentively like she just stated the stages of evolution, "Well, as much as I love this conversation, baby, you are going to need to clean up your mess". He chastises her gently, and she frowns, glaring at him, he lifts his brows in retort.

"You know you've got a lot of sass for a 4-year-old," he grumbles "Probably got it from your momma," he sends you a look, lips curled up in a smirk. Your jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know what-" he puts his finger to his lips, cutting you off.

"Were you this bad in school? Cause the teacher," he gestures to himself, "is teaching."

"I'm gonna-"

"Looking pretty," He singsongs, a smile playing on his lips. You bite your cheek, holding back your glare. He snickers, placing her down next to the milk—putting a paper towel in her tiny hands.

"Can you help daddy clean it up please," he squats down to her level, stretching his fingers over hers. She blinks down at the splattered milk. You can almost see the gears turning in her head when he starts carefully moving her hand back and forth over the mess. 

"See!" he cheers, his eyes glowing with pride, "Accidents happen, you just gotta learn to clean them up."

Watching the scene unfold before you fills you with an obscene form of bliss, like you have achieved one of life's greatest victories—that maybe all dads weren't raging assholes that yelled when you spilled milk because, like Felix said, accidents happen—you never grow out of'em.

©CookieCreates (posted: June, 26th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

[i-cant-sing]

My mind is just coming up with amazing ideas today. I guess that's what happens when u don't study for a week... (this is all happening my academic burnout sm)

I present to you- Yandere Dad Hawks x bird kid reader.

Look Dad Keigo was gonna be a doting father for any kid, biological or not, but there's just something about his bio kid who also HAS HIS QUIRK😭😭😭 Like he can't stop awing at the sight of his little baby bird having tiny tiny red wings like papa.

The ever loving, forever doting, always spoiling his baby, that's the kind of dad Keigo is. I mean, putting his own childhood trauma aside, he still wants you to have the best childhood ever. There are very few things he says no to (only coming second to Dad Dabi who only says no to things that will actively put you in danger. Want ice cream for breakfast? Okay. Want to go to 7/11 with grandpa Enji? Hell no.). Child reader wants an Endeavour hero figure? Of course, darling! Here, take one from daddy's collection 🥰🥰🥰 Dont wanna eat your peas? Sorry, doll. You're gonna have to finish your plate, even if you try to look adorably menacing by fluffing up your wings.

Oh and your wings😭 You know how Rei has a weird thing for your hair (and she definitely gives you a flea bath after you hang out with hawks)? Yeah that's how Keigo is with your wings- obsessed. He takes care of them, cleans them out and even has you sit for hours if that's how long it takes him to groom them. "Its no use swatting me, baby. I'm still not letting you move an inch until I'm done. So, just sit back and relax.🥰" keigo would say as he hands his phone to watch some shows.

I headcanon that Keigo's kid will be sassy and quick as him. The two can bicker for hours, and no ones really sure whether you're just that good at arguments or if Keigo just let's you win because he loves you so much.

I can also see Keigo and reader bonding over their mutual love for pro hero Endeavour (but in very different ways💀)

Dad Keigo adores spending time with you, especially now that you're put in a safehouse with only a handful people he let's you meet. A major part of his life is feeding you. Maybe it's the bird brain, maybe it's his childhood trauma, but Keigo has to cook meals for you and he has to watch you eat them. He's not sure, but it makes him be at peace knowing that you sleep with a tummy full and a warm bed.

I think as far as flying goes, Keigo tells you to only to do it under his supervision. You know how sometimes you forget how ti breathe and then making a concious effort to breathe makes it difficult to do so? That's what Keigo thinks happens. He thinks that if you fly alone, you might suddenly forget how flap your wings or maybe you get tired and then you're just crashing down to the ground. Unfortunately for his weak heart, you don't listen to him and fly as high as you can.

Would Keigo let you go to school? Initially, yes. But it only takes one incident, something even as harmless as a stupid prank call threatening his child (Dabi did the call), and that's enough for him to go hay wire and pull you out of school and move to a new safehouse, cut off from anyone and everyone. When he has to leave, he'd either drop you off at Enji's, OR have someone from the Hero Comminsion come and babysit you.

You can pout and cry and scream at him all you want, he's not changing his mind. You're his baby, his only light, only will to live, he can't risk your life.

His life would only become more complicated if either of you get a love interest. For you, the choices are: Katsuki, Tokoyami, Izuku. For him, the choices are: Dabi, your baby mama, Miruko.

[fuzzythoughtsblog]

I love camping soo much. That is to say I have this fantasy; I want to go camping with bunch of classmates I don't know (in this scenario I go to a all girls school) for some kind of school trip. As it is in the middle of the woods I have no cell reception. So I spend my time getting to know the girls staying with me in my cabian Brooke, Quinn, Rowan and Simone.

Brooke is a very athletic and excels at running hiking and swimming. Quinn is your standard environmentalist she knows every plant and what they could do. Rowan is more of a discord mod kind of girl not the type you'd expect to be out here. Apparently the school forced her to go on the trip to make up her pe credit she ignored. And then theirs is Simone another forced to be here camper. Since some of the activities we do out here count as volunteer work something Simone needs to stay in school to make up her multiple suspension. Your typical rough around the edges type.

While I tried to keep the cabin cordial the infighting happened by the second day. As Brooke thought that Simone was too full of herself and Quinn couldn't stand Rowan's complaining. To lighten the mood I suggested a friendly water balloon fight. Something Rowan claimed to be cracked at. We split up into to teams and although it was an odd number Simone and Brooke agreed that their is no way Rowan was good at this so apparently she counted as a 5th of a "solider".

Eventually the teams were decided. Me, Rowan and Simone vs Brooke and Quinn loser makes dinner. Before we began Simone announced something." I think the one who suggested this should have to wear a white T-shirt. "While I was confused at the request the other girls surprisingly agreed. Even Quinn looked away and said it was only fair. So, I went to change. When I got back the games began. And I quickly realized that Simone and Rowan's strategy was to use me as a human shield. Continuing to flank behind me when the other team threw their balloons. In fact it seemed like the other team was aiming specifically at me. By the time our game was done I was soaked down to my panties and the most embarrassing part is you could see everything through the translucent wet shirt.

As I was the most wet my team was declared the losers despite my teammates being only surprisingly damp. Although my team lost Simone and Rowan didn't make a uproar about the declaration. Instead the simple went to begin cooking. I started to change out of my wet clothes until Brooke stopped me "I think it's only fair that the losers have to stay in their wet clothes. " I try to convince her against this stating that the shirt was basically see through at this point and it's getting cold but Brooke wouldn't budge. I looked at Quinn to ask for some relief but she simple said "Y'know it's better for the environment to change less." Though after saying that she looked at me sympathetically. "Maybe, it would be fair to allow her to not wear the shirt so she doesn't freeze. " at this statement Brooke nods in agreement.

I argue that, that isn't fair but Brooke states that "I walk around in my sports bra all the time, so it's fine. " With a huff I decided to take the little leeway and peel the shirt off of me. Then Me, Rowan and Simone make quesadillas. By the time were done everyone quickly eats before heading off to bed. As I'm also tired I do the same and change into my pj's before laying down.

I only get a few minutes of sleep before I wake up hot and tingly everywhere. I look around and then see Simone creeping towards me. I sit up froze until she sits on my bed. She whispers "Sorry to wake you, I was just thinking about how I can't stand the good girl act. " hand creeping up my already sensitive body over the covers. I let out a soft whimper as a response. "Fuck, I knew it. Good girl's like you are so good for one thing. " she says while climbing on top of me and wrapping her callus hands around my throat. "Cumming your stupid little brains out. " she whispers while inching closer and closer before the lights flicker on and Brooke is standing above us. "You delinquent bitch, you knew I wanted her. " At that statement I look up at her with confusion until Quinn pipes up " Both of you need to back off... " at this statement I let out a sigh of relief "I have already claimed her, after all I put arthroscopics in her food. So her wet cunt should belong to me. "

At this point Im staring up at all three of them mouth agaped. Before Rowan chimes in "Why don't we solve this the gamer way? " the three turn to her confused "Why don't we all get to have her in an all-nighter battle royal, whoever taps out lasts wins her for the rest of camp? " she says while practical drooling. For a moment all of the girls pause before nodding. Simone - "You guys are fucked, you know how often I dick bitches like this down on a daily basis." Brooke - "Big talk you know it's all about stamina." Quinn- "Both of you are going to lose. I have more technique. " Rowan- "Pog".

As they all start to put their hands on me, I ask if I get a say in the matter to which they laugh. Brooke and Simone take turns using my neck as a chew toy and while Rowan sits above my head. "Have you sucked pussy?" Rowan ask with a smirk I answer no before she places her cunt to my lips "learn". I hesitate which makes Simone slap me " She said learn bitch! " I begin to lick as Brooke chids her "No need to be so rough. " "Look bitches like these like it rough, they like to be broken in. " "I disagree. " "Then why ya biting so hard? " Simone say gesturing to the bite mark she left.

"I... " "oh does the jock bitch not know how to hold back? This is gonna be fun! " "She's just so pretty! " "And a virgin it seems like. " Quinn pipes in again while pressing a finger inside of me "So tight. " she says watching her fingers sink in. Rowan - "Lol (yes said like lol and not L. O. L) how have you never had you cunt used? " Simone - "How are you not a virgin too? " "Hey, kittens love what I do to their bodies." At this statement Simone gets up and walks off . "Peppo champ , more for us! " Rowan says while grinding into my face harder. "I'm not done! "She yells while walking back " I just wanted to get my strap. " Brooke -"You just carry that thing with you? " "You never know when you'll need it. " "Dude that's way too big. It'll break her. " Quinn - "No it should be fine with all the aphrodisiacs I gave her she should be nice and loose. "

Simone- "Well if you won't fuck her with it more for me. " she says while strapping in. "Fuck kitten, you panicking on my cunt feels so good. " As I shake my head no I feel as Quinn holds me open for her. "Get ready whore! " Simone says as she sinks in little by little. While Quinn slaps my clit everytime I try and struggle away. Which hurts with a extra sting. Brooke- "Rowan let me get a turn. " "Fuck no her mouth is pogchamp go mog about it or suck her tit I'm not getting off. " Brooke seemingly takes the suggestion as I feel her warm mouth wrap around my nipple.

I begin I move a little as it's all so much. "Yeah that's right fuck back into me slut " Simone says as she slaps my ass and grinds the strap into me. As I start to feel on the edge with all the sensations from Brooke playing with my tits, Rowan riding my face like it's the best ride on the planet and Simone fucking me slow and deep. Then I feel as Quinn wraps her mouth around my clit and I'm sent tumbling over the edge along with Rowan and Simone.

"Fuck that mouth is better than cod. " Quinn - "Let me get a turn. " they then switch spots. Simone begins to pull out before unstraping "She's all yours Brooke. " Simone says before taking Brooke's spot . Rowan adds on "Yeah, sloppy seconds. " when Brooke is finally strapped in she goes straight for sinking into my warmth. She seems to hold back from a second before Quinn wraps her legs around Brooke's hips "Let go! " Brooke does immediately as she just begins to slam into me as hard and fast as she can whispering about how good it is while I scream into Quinn and as the others encourage her. Rowan even begins to nibble on my clit as Simone pinches nipples. Sending me over the edge again as Brooke just keeps pounding into my oversimulated and abused cunt.

Brooke - "Can't we all just shared her. " all of them silently agree. As they all use my body all night long taking turns fucking my mouth and cunt and useing my body like a toy. As I begin to pass out I think about how things are going to change around camp.

[fluffysucker]

Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

In no world were you meant to be together, but in every universe, you were meant for each other.

A/N: I present you grumpy sunshine wrapped in enemies(ish) to lovers with Beefy Boxer/Biker Bucky.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated.

Also, I tried to be as inclusive as possible. But my delusion couldn't be controlled I'm sorry.

Ngl this is for me more than anything.

Also, I'm thinking about making this its own universe and maybe write more of it. Tell me what you think

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You hated Bucky Barnes, and he hated you.

The two of you should have never crossed paths. Your worlds should have never met. But the wall separating you could only hold for so long.

The infamous boxer was a phenomenon in his field. Unbeatable and astute, Bucky Barnes held his reputation with pride. He was stronger than all and the smartest the game had. His jab was as numbing as the winter. His techniques were as calculated as a soldier's. Bucky Barnes was as hard as nails. A legend.

To keep up with the notoriety, it was rumoured that Barnes and his team were also a biker gang. It was never confirmed, but the black leather jacket he always had on, the long hair touching his shoulder or tidied in a low bun, the motorbike barked in front of the gym, and the intimidating sense lingering around him. It was never denied, either.

In the mornings, Bucky Barnes ran a successful gym with his two bestfriends, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Both played occasionally, but only Bucky was the professional, so they were more his trainers. They also trained other players and armatures. They tried to gain other normal customers, but it didn't always work. With a reputation like theirs, attracting customers wasn't easy.

It was usually the same for nights, unless they had matches. Most of their fights were held on Stark's property. He ran an empire, and boxing was the dominant centre, led by the biggest champion. And Stark lets Bucky have it his way, just like he likes. As long as Bucky keeps on bringing these huge numbers into their pockets, both are happy and content.

So it was out of the nature for Bucky to have zero interest in the new restaurant that opened up right next door to the gym. They had their regularly frequented places. The bar run by Romanoff and Belova, a couple of blocks away from Stark's property, was more than enough. He didn't even bother to throw a glance at it. Even after he knew that the owner had come by and given out menus and promised them discounts if they stopped by, there was still nothing.

Until one night. Bucky got carried away in training. He had an important match coming up. He knew his opponent barely stood a chance, but Bucky enjoyed the thriller of the game. The sweat and blood that go into it He didn't remember a time when he didn't want to do this. It was like it was programmed so deeply in his brain. He was made for this.

Everyone left, one by one. Until then, it was only him. After so many hours, he finally got tired. He threw his gloves aside and went to take a shower to remove the evidence of his hard work before going back home. As he was locking the gym's door, he heard his stomach growl, reminding him that he needed food. He was starving. Before deciding to wait and order food once he got home, the big sign caught his eye. They did indeed have a restaurant right next door. He admitted he was too tired to cook or wait for delivery. He needed food, then crashed into his bed. So maybe the closest restaurant would be useful.

Once he stepped in, he felt out of place immediately. His dark clothes and huge frame made him look like a stranger compared to the light-coloured painted walls. Some had flowers, and others had stars drawn on them. There were fairy lights in some corners. The aromatic scent was everywhere. Bucky almost winced at how bright and colourful everything felt. This was an alternative universe that he didn't belong in.

"Hi, how can I help you?" An even sweeter voice rang and caught Bucky's attention, breaking him from his trance of observing the place.

He turned around to find the prettiest girl he had ever seen standing behind the counter. Your beauty caught him off guard. He never believed someone could be so beautiful before. But here you were, standing. Taking his breath away.

He recovered very quickly and moved to stand in front of the counter. With the most loving smile, you handed him the menu. He took a look at the menu and wanted to laugh out loud. Dish names were just as cheerful as the atmosphere.

Out of habit, you started explaining and recommending stuff for him. He interrupted you, putting in his order. You didn't give it much thought but took his order happily.

You apologised for the lack of waiters, as it was almost closing time and it was only you. No answer. With his blank stare, you told him he could sit wherever he wanted. Only then did he notice the empty restaurant. It was just you and him. It was that late. So he took a seat at the nearest table.

Not taking much, you returned with his order. You placed it in front of him with a big smile on your face. You knew right away who that was the minute he walked in. James Barnes. The famous boxer who trains next door You have been praying after your small visit to them that they would be regular customers. The business was doing great. But the more, the merer. Always. Lots of people warned you about the men next door. But you didn't feel like they were as bad as people made them out to be. You were always so trusting, unless shown otherwise. So you were happy that, finally, one of them stopped by.

You moved away, letting him enjoy his food. Unable to fight your nature, you started talking to him as you continued cleaning the remaining parts of the place. No answer again. He didn't even bother to look at you. Okay. Maybe he had a rough day. Not all people are used to chatting.

Bucky was one of these people. His eyes widened as you started talking to him. People were never that friendly to him. People avoided him. Nobody tried to open up a conversation with him. He didn't know how to react. And he was too tired to try. So he practiced his other specialty. Silence. But even if he wouldn't admit it, Bucky found your voice calming. So he let you talk instead of just shutting you up.

You reduced your talking to a minimum. Only little remarks there and then to avoid complete silence. The second time, you heard his voice since he walked in and asked for the check. You brought the paper to the table he occupied, keeping your smile up and telling him that he got the 'neighbour discount' as you called it. You almost heard his scoff as you left him.

You had your back to the door, so you only turned around when you heard the door close. You didn't hear his footsteps, and most definitely, you didn't hear his goodbye, goodnight, or even thank you. Now that's rude.

You returned to the table to collect the check. But you found the review note you attached to every check empty. Not a single penmark. And that was more rude. You made sure that filling out the note only took seconds. You genuinely cared to hear people's opinions so you could be better and have the restaurant grow more.

So he didn't speak to you for more than two sentences. Didn't say thank you or goodbye. Didn't fill in the note. Okay, maybe you didn't want them as customers if they were all that rude.

It turns out they weren't that rude. However, Bucky was more rude than you thought.

A couple of days after Bucky's visit, you were surprised to see Bucky with another two men. You guessed they were Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. The trio was all well-known. You doubted if Bucky was the one to recommend the restaurant. You weren't sure if he even liked the food. And you were right. He would be caught dead if he brought up the fairy world you called a restaurant. Even when it served the tastiest food he had ever had,

It was a slow day. No intense training or excessive fight preparation The three men didn't have much to do that day. So when Steve suggested trying out the restaurant, Bucky neither objected nor showed excitement.

So when they walked in, you couldn't help the feeling of surprise along with the tiny bit of happiness, hoping it would be a nicer visit this time. After preparing their orders and sending them out, you waited for a bit before you left the kitchen to greet them. Not before making sure you looked presentable.

With the small space and their loud voices, it wasn't hard to locate them. You approached them with a big smile and positive attitude.

"I wanted to make sure you were having a good time." You followed up after introducing yourself.

"The food is amazing. This burger is to die for." Steve was the first to compliment you, with Sam nodding and agreeing.

"You have one good chef." Sam added as he took another french fry into his mouth. "Send my regards to them."

"Actually, I'm also the chef." The statement caused a shocked expression to fill in their faces. They asked for details, and you briefly told them how you were the core of the small business as the owner and main chef.

The two men were polite, and they didn't seem annoyed by your chatty personality. In fact, they interacted with you and asked questions to learn more. And all they had to say were nice compliments. Except one.

"So tell me, sweetheart, what was the inspiration for the place? Was it a fairy garden or Disney's latest cartoon?" None of you were ready for the sarcastic comment Bucky threw at you.

You didn't let your smile break in the face of his sarcasm. Nor did you give much thought to the pet name. You put on a bigger smile now, looking at him.

"A bit of both." That's one thing about you: you refused to let the world change about you. You never reciprocate rudeness with rudeness.

"I can tell." Bucky was taken back by your response. He expected you to get offended, but you didn't.

"Thank you. It was my vision all along." You replied, your smile never leaving your face.

And that started your hate relationship with Bucky Barnes.

After that day, the men became regular customers. And it wasn't just the three men. Little by little, it was most of the team. First, it was just to try the good food. Then it was because they wanted to. They wouldn't admit it, but your place was like a breath of fresh air. Something so different from what they are used to. From what they are known for. From what people expected from them. And you never judged them, treated them differently, or asked about the rumours that followed them. So it was a calm change, but much needed.

But their favourite thing was yours and Bucky's constant bickering. Or more Bucky's. Nobody understood why Bucky was doing this. You never partook in his constant attempts to make fun of you. You always had a sweet response to fire back. You truly were the living embodiment of killing them with kindness.

However, he never stopped. Every time he stepped foot in the place, you claimed it was your biggest achievement. He had something rude to say. Something to annoy you with. Something to bother you. Sarcasm and jokes spilling out of him with no end whatsoever.

The number of times you wanted to punch him or snap at him right back was increasing. But you refused to give in. To let him win. He wouldn't be the one to change you. So you kept engaging with him only with gracious things to say.

Besides, you chose to think that everyone had their own battles and demons. And for sure, Bucky looked like he had lots of them. He looked rougher than most. His job made him appear invincible, but he wasn't. Nobody was. So he may drive you mad, but he deserves the gentle treatment you offered all.

Bucky had no idea why he was doing it. Why every time he saw you, he felt the urge to tease you. It wasn't like him. But he didn't fight it back.

"How are you, Tinkerbell?"

"You should buy green carpets. It will finish off the garden aesthetic."

"Here is the princess who got lost."

"The pasta was great, Barbie."

Stuff like this flew from him all the time. And not once did you get back at him. You stayed nice and polite. Your sweet self never crumbling.

There was something in you that drove him insane. Your warm eyes. Your bright smile. Your cheerful voice. Your positive mindset. Your kind heart. Your friendly nature. Your hard work. Your delicious food. Your colourful wardrobe of dresses, skirts, tops, and cardigans. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was all of it.

The deepest part of him knew why he was doing this. He liked you. He liked you so much. From the moment he entered your restaurant alone, the first time And the more he knew you, the more he liked you. You were special. And you were everything he wasn't. He thought if he got closer, he would be tinting you. He would bring darkness to your shine. A moral thing preventing him from speaking his truth. even thinking about it.

So he acted like a teenager. He made fun of you. In hopes of making you hate him. He convinced himself and the others that he didn't like your sunshine personality.

Until one day

It started off like any normal day. Bucky had a match coming up. So they all had something to do. The day was going fine. Up before Peter Parker, who was usually on reception duties, ran in and said there was fire in your place,

For a second, blood ran cold in Bucky's body. He heard ringing in his ears. Were you okay? He collected himself quickly, wanting to check for himself.

He threw the gloves away, almost pushing everybody out of the way to get out. And he was the first to see the chaos in the street. A firetruck was parked, and firemen were going in and out of your restaurant along with some policemen. His eyes were searching for you frantically until he spotted you.

You had some dust on your face and your white clothes. You were checking that everyone was okay and out safely. But you couldn't hide the quivering of your lips or your shaking body.

He couldn't help himself as he ran towards you. You turned as you felt someone approaching you. Without your control, your face softened, and tears blurred your sight once you noticed who it was.

"Bucky." You whispered as a way to ground yourself from all the mess that happened and is still happening.

Following his first instincts, Bucky pulled you into his chest, wrapping your trembling form in his arms and holding you so close to him. And the dam broke.

Sobs fled from you. Tears mixed with his sweat. Your fists gripped his white tank top. Your face hidden away in his chest.

You didn't know how it happened. You had been holding up well enough during it all. You had been managing the situation the best you could. However, when Bucky got here, your mind stopped working. Your mind gave up on you, letting your emotions hit you with full force, breaking down your bastion with no guarantee you would be caught.

But you were. You were braced by strong amrs, rubbing your back, laying small kisses on your hair, and whispering words of comfort in your ears. "I'm here. I'm right here." "You're okay. You're fine."

Your sobs ceased, but your body still shook against Bucky's. Tears remained to fall freely on your face. Bucky's hold was still firm but secure around you.

You only moved away from him when a policeman approached you, informing you that you were needed at the police station.

"I'm coming with you." Bucky's stern voice left no room for negotiation. It wasn't up to debate. He wasn't leaving you.

"I'll grab my stuff in a second." He turned to the policeman standing in front of you, making sure it was okay that he joined. And he got a nod of approval in return.

He left your side, walking towards the gym. He paid no attention to his friends standing by, who were puzzled by the encounter. And true to his words, he came back in seconds, his black leather jacket on, phone in hand, and wallet in hand.

He got to you, letting his hand wrap around your shoulder. The gesture was welcomed by you as you rested your head on his chest. Something about having Bucky spread calmness in you

At the police station, Bucky found out what really happened. It wasn't just fire. It was a robbery. A bunch of armed men attacked your restaurant, demanding money from you and all the people inside. As you are trying to handle the situation without panicking more, it was discovered that one of the customers was a cop, which sent the robbers into an unexpected turn. So they took all they could from the cash register and your own things before setting the kitchen on fire to run away without being caught.

Between talking with the insurance company, the bank, and watching security footage from your restaurants and the street, you spent the rest of the day in the station.

And Bucky didn't leave your side for a second of it.

He didn't leave you until you both got out of the cap in front of your apartment. And he didn't leave until he made sure you got inside safely.

Something about you being hurt sent Bucky into a spiral. Who was heartless enough to hurt such a sweet soul as you? To look at you and not want to give you everything? Bucky would never know. All he knew was that he never wanted to see you so afraid and shaken like today. To not see your smile lighting up your face. So he would do whatever it took to make sure you were always fine.

Which was why you found him by your building the first thing in the morning.

"You have lots of places to go today. Said I would join you."

And up until you were handed the keys to your restaurant brand new after the insurance company had finished the repairs, Bucky didn't leave you. He was always there. Helping you finish papers, going to the police station to identify the robbers, and buying new stuff for the restaurants. Everything. He was there for everything.

And you had to admit. It was lovely to have him. A helping hand you needed. Physically and emotionally. Someone to share this unfortunate journey with. And Bucky didn't bother it for a bit. And you appreciated having him.

So, it only felt right for him to be your first order after the reopening.

The truth was, you never hated Bucky, no matter how much you tried. His huge form, his steel blue eyes, his signature stare, his playful smirk. They all made you feel something. He made you feel something you couldn't quite understand. But it was a pleasant something. He annoyed you so much, but you never took it too seriously. Maybe he hated you, but you didn't.

Now, you didn't need him. You were ready to carry on with your life. He didn't know how to get back to normal. He couldn't. He couldn't pretend you didn't make his heart beat faster. You made his days better. But he was so unworthy of you. And he knew you could never look at him. Maybe you hated him, but he didn't.

He tried to get back to his life. Only training and matches. Only visiting your place with the others who quickly figured out what was happening. He needed to get you out of his mind. That lasted for two days.

When Bucky was closing the gym, he heard something coming from your restaurant. With a frown, he moved to see you still inside. He looked at his watch to check the time again. It was indeed late.

"What are you doing?" He didn't bother with greetings as he entered.

"Hi, Bucky." Your cheerful voice rang through the empty place.

"What are you doing?" He repeated his question, looking at the paper in front of you.

"I'm sending out advertisements and deal offerings to different places." You answered him with a smile.

"Sweetheart, do you know what time it's?" Bucky signed as he looked at you, looking clueless.

"C'mon, let's get you home." He moved towards you, taking the papers out of your hand and putting them down without messing them.

"But I have a lot to do." You tried to protest as he gathered your stuff and helped you out.

"It will still be here in the morning." And he was having none of it.

"I need to get the business going." You added.

"You can do that in the morning, too." Bucky led you out of the restaurant in spite of your complaining.

He took the key from your hand and handed it back to you after he closed up. You expected him to move away, but he didn't.

"How are you going to get home?" He hoped you wouldn't give him the answer he had in mind.

"It's not very far. I was going to walk." And it was it.

Do you not care about your safety, or do you think you are James Bond?

Bucky had to bite his tongue and not scold you right on the spot. He knew you were stressed about the business, so he didn't want to add more.

"Great. I was going somewhere there, too. Let me walk."

"You were?" You questioned him, not believing him, but he nodded quickly.

As a matter of fact, Bucky didn't have anywhere to go other than collapsing on his bed. But over his dead body were you going to walk back home alone in this hour

"Lead the way, princess." The return of the name, but a smile on your face. He may mean it as an insult. You didn't care. It sounded good coming from him.

And the two of you walked.

And somehow, without planning, it became a routine.

Bucky would finish at the gym and come straight to the restaurant. It didn't matter whether it was late or not. He would get in and wait till you were done with the day. Then he would walk you home. Sometimes, he would help with stuff, but most times, you would make him sit down and bring him tonnes of food you prepared just for him.

"You train so hard. Don't want to burn these muscles. Eat and rest."

You weren't stupid. You knew he had nothing to do with where you were living. Yet he still chose to go out of his way, walk you home, and wait until you got in. He was taking care of you. So you wanted to take care of him too.

It felt strange to Bucky. Nobody made sure if he was eating well enough, drinking enough water, and resting enough. Nobody ever did. Everybody treated him like he was a machine. Like he He needed nothing.

Then there you were. Feeding him with delicious food. Letting him relax. Laughing at his jokes. Your hands grazing softly. It was all foreign to him, but very welcome. And he was getting attached. He knew it. How could he not?

He had the sweetest and most loving person on the planet, showing him attention and care.

Bucky counted the minutes until he could be with you. Until he could walk you home, it would be just the two of you. You did most of the talking, telling him about your day or an interesting story you heard. He would tell you briefly about his day.

He loved listening to you. Every detail you shared with him. You were the first in his life to be carefree around him other than his family. You didn't let his stiff demeanour affect your friendly one.

The extra time he spent back to his place from yours didn't bother him in the slightest. He found it reassuring that he knew for sure you were safe at home. It was all worth it.

Every single one of Bucky's friends knew what was happening from the moment he asked to postpone a match to go somewhere with you when you're repairing the restaurant. And it became so clear when he stopped hanging out at Natasha's bar after matches, claiming he was tired. But, in truth, he only wanted to be with you. And the days he knew he couldn't turn it down, especially after a grand victory, he would be glued to his phone until you texted him that you were home. Then he may start celebrating.

Bucky almost punched Steve in the face when he brought up inviting you to one of the matches, or at least to hang out with the whole team at Natasha's bar. Bucky wanted you nowhere near this world. He couldn't imagine you watching him while he was fighting. You would never look at him again. Yes, you were kind, but in the ring, he was a beast. You didn't deserve to see how bad he could be.

That's why he never acted on his feelings for you. He knew he was falling for you. He knew from the start. But you deserved better. So much better.

Your radiant nature had no place near him.

He even tried to stop seeing you, feeling guilty for ever getting close to you. But he failed miserably. You gave him something nobody did. A light in the darkness.

So he bottled it and felt grateful that you even let him be your friend. Or whatever you were.

Before a fact came crushing. You were single.

The days following matches were usually very slow. So he left earlier than usual just to come and wait for you. As long as you wanted. He had a bandage on his forehead and a compression bandage around his hand.

Sometimes you forget what his job was. Until he shows up bruised and bandaged like this. You knew he was strong enough to handle himself. He was the best in the game. But you couldn't help the twinge of your heart at the thought of him hurt.

So you prepared extra food and drinks for him. Once it was evening, you kept your best table for him. You even brought the air freshener with the scent; he commented once that he liked it. Everything to help him relax.

You kept telling yourself you were only doing this because he liked to help everyone. But you knew it was very different. He was very different.

So when he stepped in, your big smile got bigger.

You tried to come and talk with him whenever you could, but it was a busy day. He had no problem. He enjoyed watching you work. You were so dedicated and smart. He wanted you to be the most successful chef and owner in the world.

But maybe he shouldn't have been watching. He should have paid attention to anything else. So he wouldn't have seen the man who had been flirting with you since he walked in.

It was taking everything in Bucky to not get up and throw the guy away. But he heard it. Your answer to his question "Yes, I'm single." And he was reminded of the cruelty of the world. You weren't his. He shouldn't be jealous. He shouldn't have been biting the inside of his mouth when the guy tried to touch your hand as you handed him his bill.

And he most definitely shouldn't be feeling like crying and burning down the world when the guy asked you out and left his number.

Wasn't that what he wanted? For you to have better than him. To have someone who wasn't surrounded by blood and pain. Someone who wouldn't defile your glimmer That guy looked decent enough. Maybe that was your chance to find love.

However, he wanted to tear that paper to pieces. He wanted to punch the guy for asking his girl. But you weren't his girl.

Bucky was conflicted by his emotions. He didn't know what to feel or how to think. So he did the thing he was the best at. He stayed silent.

You noticed right away the change in his mood. He wasn't the most talkative person, but this silence was different. He looked like he was somewhere else. Somewhere, that wasn't so nice.

"Are you sure that you are fine?" You asked as you came to a stop in front of your building.

You only got a nod as an answer.

"You know you can tell me anything. I'm always going to be here."

Your words finally made him look at you after you left the restaurant.

"You are?" His hesitant tone made you frown.

"Of course." You answered very quickly.

"Are you going to go out with this guy?" It was quiet; you almost missed it, but you didn't.

Bucky didn't know what happened. He promised himself he wouldn't bring it up. It had nothing to do with him. But he couldn't. It fell from him.

"Do you want me to?" Your reply was something he didn't expect at all.

You couldn't say you weren't disappointed when Bucky did nothing when the guy started flirting with you. You didn't know what you wanted him to do. But you wanted him to do something.

Instinctively, Bucky moved closer to you, standing right in front of you.

"No, I don't want to."

"Tell me why I shouldn't go out with him."

The space between the two of you was almost nonexistent. You were so close to each other. His blue eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were filled with something so warm that you couldn't quite figure it out.

Bucky didn't know how to answer your question. Why didn't he want you to go out with the guy? Well, he didn't want you to go out with any guy. So he threw caution to the wind and followed his heart.

You almost tripped, but his hands on your waist steadied you. The feeling of his lips on yours was something out of the world. His lips were a bit bruised, but they were soft. It was all so good that your mind stopped working.

Bucky was about to pull away and apologise profoundly when you didn't kiss him back. As he was about to move, your hands wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him.

The kiss was gentle, and it was filled with emotions. Loving ones. It sent electricity through your bodies. It spread warmth all over you.

Your need for oxygen made you break the kiss, hands still around each other, eyes only looking at each other.

"I thought you hated me."

"Never did. Not for a second, princess."

Bucky's lips smashed against yours once again. And it was like every piece was falling into its place. The puzzle was completed. The rainbow after the rain

You were the shining star in Bucky's dark sky. He may not deserve you, but he was going to do everything in his power to get you to shine more.

Because you were made for each other.

[evillandscaper]

Okay guys I'm gonna do a breakdown of a few of my personal hcs for the main 3 of both s1 and s2!!! This includes little doodles of how I draw em differently !!!

Let's start off with Olive :3 there's a LOT under the cut.

Okay, so Olive's really active, right? To me, she's always been brains AND brawn. So since she's out in the sun all the time, she has a tan!

She's also lightly scarred in my version, if you look carefully. Those were gathered out on cases. I hc that she has a LOT of battered uniforms that Otto sews/embroids together. Also, if you squint, you can see my version has light eyebags. It's not that she doesn't sleep, she's just fed up with everyone.

Her hair is messier! She comes into work all prim and proper, but leaves it all disheveled. If it's a more tiring day, she'll run her hand through her hair. Also, red hair tie instead of black, just cause I find it cuter.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olive is half Quebecois, half Vietnamese

- Her last name is Tremblay

- Her full name is Olivia, she just shortens it

- She's terrible at English and can't write an essay to save her life, but is very good at analysis

- She eats green skittles first, and thinks the purple ones are awful

- For their halfiversary, Otto got her an olive branch shaped tie pin that she wears whenever she feels fancy

Next up: OTTO!!

The urge to change his hair was carnal in my soul. It's the Asian canon event. It happened to me, and it happened to him. Just to make things a little bit more fun for me to draw, I let his hair grow out a little bit... yknow the awkward stage after a bowl cut grows out a bit? Yeah, that.

Downturned eyes! Just so he and Olive can contrast a bit more. He's soft, she's sharp. They're silly!!!

I also make sure his mole is always at least partially visible. It's such a cool part of him, and I can't believe they cover it up most of the time in canon...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He always has his blazer undone

- He's an excellent cook, but becomes immediately incompetent once someone is watching

- He's strangely good at identifying plants, and has a habit of picking edible ones and eating them straight from the ground

- He's good at English! Not the best, but better than Olive

- His last name is Garcia

- For their halfiversary, Olive got him a cast iron pan. He doesn't use it to cook, and instead swings it at anyone who makes fun of him or Olive

Next up: OSCAR!!!

I honestly don't have much for Oscar. I love him, but don't think about him that much.

He has messier hair and is just a LOT more disheveled in general!!! Close your eyes in the bullpen at any given moment and I bet you could hear something in the lab blowing up.

He's perpetually sweaty. Damp palm guy. Maybe that's why he keeps dropping gadgets...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He's very bad at telling the time. On vacation, he'll never know what day of the week it is

- He knows how to play the otamatone surprisingly well. He can make them talk, and has conversations with one the way one would with a sock puppet

- He never knows what significant figures to use, so he ends up just ballparking everything and just not measuring in general. Maybe that's why everything in the lab is always blowing up

- He has a full denim outfit saved up for formal occasions. I'm talking denim hat, shirt, jacket, pants, shoes, all denim

- His last name is Collins

OLYMPIA NEXT!!!!

Okay so there's a lot of hearing me out you guys will need to do.

Anna Cathcart is half Chinese and half irish!!! Thus, I gave Olympia monolids to accentuate that factor. I also downturned her eyes and thinned her "lashes" to make it more obvious that I'm portraying her as wasian!

I gave her freckles and rounder glasses for the vibe. She's just a soft character to me, and I really want to make her look the part.

She's got messy hair!! It's based on the little half fringes she had in very early s2, which I thought were adorable. Her ponytail's also higher just so she looks different from Olive!!

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olympia knows floriography, and will get very hurt if you give her the wrong flowers

- Conversely, she thinks she's being really rude if she puts a tansy on someone's desk to show that she's upset and will feel bad about it all day

- She always carries a little salamander named Josh in her pocket

- She can speak Yiddish

- She has a massive storage of those flippable sequin shirts and has one for every occasion

- She put her hair into a ponytail bc of Olive (this one is courtesy of @/starboundsingularities!!!!!), but the more she found herself, the higher up she tied it

- Her last name is Carter-Ng

Next up: Otis!!!

I draw him a little sickly for no particular reason. He's just silly like that.

He's not that different from canon tbh! I have his hair in an undercut because I think it looks cool on him (plus it's easier to draw), and he has eyebags because of ... the vibe.

He has a notch taken out of his ear due to an injury! From what, he won't say .

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He listens to royalty free music unironically

- He's going through his Alan Walker phase

- He has barely legible handwriting, but can draw surprisingly well

- He types like an old man, with the "............" and everything

- His last name is Otis. His full name is Otis Otis. This one is also courtesy of @/starboundsingularities I love it so much

Last but not least: OONA!!!!!

She's really going through it.

Fun fact: Olivia Presti has curly hair!!! That means that Oona should have curly (or at least wavy) hair... but she doesn't. Which is honestly so sad.

But I can always mitigate that, so I draw her hair wavy. I guess it's more extremely frazzled than wavy, but it's the same effect in the end.

EYEBAGS. She doesn't sleep after The Incident. She also has downturned eyes, just because she gives off that vibe.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Oona is a regular customer of a local rage room

- She knows how to use a crossbow to a mildly terrifying extent

- If a flight of stairs has a railing, she'll slide down it. She almost always ends up falling

- Her last name is Silva

- She says she knows how to speak Polish, but she only knows a select few words and doesn't know what they mean. They're all curse words.

- Subsequently, Oona is banned from several Polish restaurants across the city

That's all!! They're all so silly :3

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shoudn't be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: Very cute Jungkook 🥰, tipsy behaviour, homosexual relationship, deep conversations, the Reader starts to lose their shyness 🥹, kisses, fluff, and a lot of fluff 😻

A/N: Hi, I'm back. This week has been very hard, and I thought coming here would be a way to distance myself from reality 😭 In the last chapter, we saw that Jungkook had a romantic relationship with Namjoon. I received some comments saying they won't read my story anymore and that I ruined it, because of that. I am a very insecure person. This is the first time I'm posting something I've written, and honestly, I don’t know what to think. The boys are very important to me, and I don’t want to offend any of them (or anyone else). If necessary, I will remove everything I’ve written and just move on. Please leave your opinion in the comments. Other than that, thank you very much for the positive messages. I’m very happy to know that a good part of those who are here with me are enjoying it. Thank you so much.

Previous chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 6

My week passed slowly and calmer than I imagined. I worked and studied as always, and fortunately, I passed my semester exams. My mind was always in another dimension, but I held back and did my best not to let Jungkook affect me. Or the thoughts of him, which were insistent and continuous. I didn’t see him anymore, at his mother’s house or anywhere I went. As soon as I got to my room that morning, I received a message from an unknown number, which I knew was him, asking if I was okay and if I was safe. I replied yes and then I didn’t send any more messages, even when he asked what I would do on Wednesday and if I wanted to meet him somewhere.

Unlike last week, feeling embarrassed, I didn’t visit Mrs. Jeon as much as I would have liked, afraid to see Jungkook and be confronted. At times, I wanted to tell her what happened, to vent to someone and express how confused I am, even though she is his mother, but I held back and didn’t say anything, knowing that the torment in my head doesn’t go away because I want him back, with me, and I know that venting in this case doesn’t help at all.

I have always been submissive to my mother and thought of her before anything else. Before myself, it comes her. It has always been this way, as if it were engraved in my brain or I were programmed that way. Jungkook may not understand, but that’s the truth. That’s why I can’t relax around him. I find myself in conflict with what I desire and what I know she would want. I have never disobeyed Eunji, let alone considered that idea. I know she wouldn’t approve of Jungkook, for a million reasons, so I am aware that if I were honest with her and admitted my feelings, there would be a conflict between us that I know I am not prepared to start.

My mother has been stricter with me as the days have passed, and I know it’s because the date of my father’s death is approaching. I try to please her in every way I can, as a way of compensation. I went to church more times than normal, worked at the bazaar, and even cooked so she wouldn’t have to. I don’t like hiding anything from her and I feel guilty in a way for lying that day. Our mother-daughter relationship has been like this my whole life, somewhat cold and strange; since I was a child, I took on her pains and tried to put her needs ahead of mine.

Today was very busy. I helped a classmate with her college exams, since unfortunately, she didn’t do well in the final tests, and I worked twice as hard because those who don’t study, always get desperate in the university library, trying to learn what they didn’t study the entire semester. I had to organize the same books thousands of times and barely had time to eat or go to the bathroom.

I got home dead tired but fulfilled. The college assignments are ready and the tests are done. At least the worries I felt about college are no longer a problem; one less thing to stress about. I grab a romance book to read, and flip through the pages with pleasure, curious to see if the main character will finally confess her feelings. I’m halfway through the chapter, engrossed in continuing, when my phone vibrates. I look at the screen without much attention, accepting the call without knowing who it is.

“Y/N?” I hear a hoarse voice on the other end of the line, and my body instantly tingles. I take the phone from my ear and sit up in bed, flustered. It’s Jungkook

I remain silent, not knowing what to say.

“Y/N? Are you there?” he asks. I consider the possibility of saying nothing, and just letting him think I answered the phone by accident, but I can’t. I want to talk to him; I want to know how he is. I miss him.

“Jungkook, I’m here.” I say; my voice trembling without much strength. I swallow hard, nervous. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He murmurs. There’s another moment of silence; only his heavy breathing filling the sound of the call.

“That’s good.” I force a smile, even though he can’t see me. I shake my head, grabbing a strand of my hair.

“I wanted... I wanted to see you.” He says softly, in a whisper, and my already agitated heart beats even faster. Butterflies fill my stomach, the way I can’t help it.

“Jungkook, I can’t.”

“You can, and I know you want to.” He asserts, with so much confidence, it’s as if he knows all my thoughts. “I want to be with you. We don’t need to do anything. We can just talk, watch something together. I need to be with someone.”

“Did something happen?” I ask, worried. I bite my lower lip, waiting for his answer.

“Yes... a person. One that I’m trying to get rid of, has been trying to get close. I don’t want that.” He replies. I don’t understand anything he says. Is it a friend? Did he have a falling out with someone?

“We can talk on the phone.” I suggest. For some reason, I feel safer when there’s a big space between us. I think the fact that he’s far from me, gives me the false sense that I’m in control of the situation.

“Are you that afraid of me?” He chuckles. I smile in response, shrugging.

“You said you wanted to talk. We’re talking.”

“How difficult you are.” He sighs, teasing me. “Don’t you miss me at all?”

“Jungkook!” I scold him. I’m breathless just from the question.

“It’s serious. I told you that you needed time to think, but I didn’t imagine you wanted to stay away from me, while you decided.”

“It’s just that everything is very complicated.”

“I feel used.” He jokes again, making me grin. “You used my body and now you don’t even want to look at my face.”

“You’re making me embarrassed.” I grunt, laughing awkwardly. My cheeks turns red with the memories of us in his bed. Him sucking me, fingering me, making me come. My God, it feels like that happened years ago, not just a few days.

“Sorry. I know, I shouldn’t say those things. But I really wanted to see you. Can’t you come here?” he asks, his voice dragging. I furrow my brows, suspicious.

“Did you—Jungkook, have you been drinking?”

“Just a little.” He chuckles on the call. Now everything makes sense. He wouldn’t call me if he were sober. If he were completely sane, he would seek out one of his friends to vent. I sigh, throwing myself onto the bed.

“I’m going to hang up, okay?”

“Wait! Don’t hang up! Why are you doing this? Did I do something?”

“Because you’re drunk.” I finally say, a little upset. Would he want to call me if it weren’t for the alcohol? The doubt makes me uncomfortable.

“I’m not drunk Y/N, I swear. I just drank a little. I’m 100% aware of the things I’m telling you.” Jungkook argues desperately, as if he’s afraid I’ll hang up at any moment. I sigh again, closing my eyes.

“Where are you?” I ask, and almost immediately, regret it. Whether he’s drunk or not, it’s not my problem. Jungkook is an adult and knows very well what he’s doing. He’s not your father, a voice in my head says.

“I’m at my apartment. You know the address. I just didn’t pick you up because I drank; otherwise, I’d already be at your door.”

“Please, don’t do that!” I widen my eyes, just imagining the scene. My father died in a car accident because he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing. Besides being dangerous, my mother isn’t stupid, and if she realizes I have any involvement with him because he came to pick me up, I’m screwed.

“Then come over. I even bought Mexican food.” He says softly, almost pleading. I roll my eyes and grunt, irritated with myself and with him. Why can’t I resist him? For fuck sake!

“Okay, I’ll try. But we’re just going to talk, watch something, and then I’ll go back. We’re not going to do anything else besides that!” I assure, more to myself, afraid that the same thing will happen as last Sunday.

“Okay. I swear I’ll try to control myself.” He mocks again. I smirk, covering my mouth. I like the normal Jungkook, but him being drunk... it’s like he’s himself, but lighter and funnier.

“Alright, I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

“Send me your location on your phone.” He asks. I mumble in agreement, and then he hangs up. I stare at my ceiling for a good few seconds, not believing it. Why am I doing this? Why am I going to his apartment? Where is this going to lead me?

When I was a little girl, I liked to imagine myself with kids, a husband, and a part-time job. I have always been very romantic; I never wanted to be with someone unless it was forever. At the same time, every time I think of Jungkook, none of that matters. He doesn’t want something serious, from what it seemed when he talked to his friends, and yet I can’t get him out of my head. I do things I would never do, and recklessly, I don’t measure the consequences of my actions. I quickly get out of bed and pace back and forth in my room. My mom is home, maybe in the living room. It’s already nine o’clock on a Friday night, and there’s nothing I can say to her that would convince her to let me go out.

At the same time, I told her an hour ago that I wasn’t going to have dinner and that I would sleep after a shower. She hasn’t been to my room since then. Maybe if I sneak out the window and call a taxi, she won’t even notice I left the house. I bite my lip, nervous. I decide to lock my bedroom door just for safety and simultaneously, put some pillows underneath my blanket, forming the silhouette of what was supposed to be my body. I grin nervously, not knowing what to do. I’ve never run away from home, and the only experience I have consists of teen movies and series. I have no idea if this is really going to work.

I change my clothes for a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt when I realize it’s colder outside, and I open my window. I sneak out with little skill along the balcony, and the bars that accompany the wall, until I reach the grass in my backyard. I tiptoe, trying not to make noise with my sneakers. I walk down my street somewhat breathlessly, pondering the idea of turning back and forgetting that Jungkook even called me. At the same time, I want to see him again. Without thinking too much, I call the taxi, which arrives quickly at my address.

The whole journey takes about ten minutes and simultaneously passes in the blink of an eye. My hands get sweaty as I recognize some places and establishments still open. I sigh, looking at my phone. There are no messages from my mother, only one from Jungkook, saying he’s tracking me via GPS. I smile, feeling a bit more secure. A wave of anxiety, heat, and uncertainty washes over me tough, when I arrive in front of the building of the man who, since I met him, has been haunting my head.

I open the car door and take a moment to look at the facade of the place, something I didn’t have much time to do last time. It’s beautiful, full of flowers and a spectacular garden. I walk along the sidewalk, still not knowing what to do, when I finally see him. Jungkook must have gone down to the lobby without me noticing, and he watches me with a smile on his face, so innocent and anxious that, amidst all this chaos, I’m glad I came. He walks up to me with disheveled and wet hair, perhaps from a recent shower he must have taken, wearing a black and white striped pajama; one of those you only wear in the comfort of your home.

I smile, unable to help it, vulnerable, energized and anxious. “I was worried about you, so I came down.” He comments, getting closer to me.

A scent of perfume, soap, and shaving foam envelops me deeply. My stomach churns again. If I thought hearing his voice made me unstable, seeing him in person completely breaks me. I don’t say a word, still mesmerized by his presence.

“You didn’t pay for the taxi, did you? I came down like a madman when I saw you had arrived.” He tells me. I shake my head in denial. He smiles again and walks over to the driver’s window. He takes the money from his wallet and returns to me as if this were routine and I visited him every day. He smiles one more time, taking steps towards me. “I told you I wasn’t drunk. Tipsy? Yes. Drunk, no.”

“Okay. You’re not. Sorry.” I grin awkwardly, looking down.

“You don’t need to apologize. Come with me; it’s too cold here, and I don’t want you to catch a cold.” He concludes, putting one of his arms around my shoulder, in an intimate touch that brings back memories of the night we were together. I follow him without much questioning, until we reach the elevator.

Inside the metal box, the tension rises. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to stay calm. I don’t need to be nervous. We’re going to talk, whatever it is he wants to say, and then I’ll go back home the same way I left, through my bedroom window. I lean my head against the wall, staring at the mirror that surrounds the elevator walls. The energy of his gaze burns me. He looks at me in a way that leaves me breathless. I swallow hard, not having the courage to reciprocate. It’s as if time has stopped and only we two exist. When I decide to say something, the elevator stops.

He guides me to enter his apartment, and a mountain of memories takes over me immediately. I chuckle in disbelief, covering my face with my hand. If my mother finds out I’m here, I don’t like to think about what could happen. I sit quietly on the couch, observing the place. It all seems the same as last time, except for Jungkook’s friends who filled the environment. Now it’s like there’s too much space, just the two of us here. I lick my dry lips, organizing my hair back, behind my shoulders.

“Are your friends okay?” I ask, trying to talk about things that aren’t about him and me. That for a few minutes, we can pretend that night never happened.

“They are.” He smiles at me, shrugging. “They’re planning a party to celebrate my studio when it’s ready. You’re definitely invited.” He says, sitting next to me. He touches the piercing on his eyebrow with his fingertips, and tosses his dark, soft hair back.

“When’s the celebration party going to be?” I ask, placing my hands on my lap, afraid to touch him. He’s so close that I can fully see the moles around his neck. The Adam’s apple moving every time he talks and swallows.

“I don’t know. There’s still so much to do, but I can’t stay in Busan because I left everything in Seoul to come here. At the same time, I can’t neglect my mom. It’s like I need several versions of myself to handle everything. Just one Jungkook isn’t enough, I think.” He chuckles, but gazing into his big eyes, I find no humor at all. I can’t imagine what it must be like for him to have his mother in this situation and live so far from her. He must be exhausted and worn out.

“When do you plan to go back to Seoul?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

“In about a month and a half, maybe.” He shrugs, biting his lower lip.

“Wow!” I say, surprised. I didn’t expect it to be so soon. He returns my gaze, confused. “I mean, it’s not long until you go back.” I smile, feigning an excitement I don’t feel, awkward.

“Yes, that’s true. I wish I could stop time right now. That would be the best superpower of all.” Jungkook laughs, forming a dimple in his cheek that I had never noticed he had. He rolls his eyes at himself, grunting. “Sorry, every time I drink something, I say these stupid things.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” I chuckle, a little more relaxed. He has this power over me, making me tense and calm at the same time.

“You know, I wanted to ask you something.” He comments, putting his feet on the couch.

“You can ask.”

“Promise you won’t get embarrassed?” He asks, grinning. I shake my head, rolling my eyes.

“I can’t promise that because I don’t know what the question is.”

“Oh, come on!? You always make that face when I talk to you.” He chuckles, teasing me. I shake my head, not understanding.

“What face? What are you talking about?”

“That face. You puff your cheeks because you’re blushing and look away all the time.” He clarifies. My cheeks turn red instantly, making him grin again. I cover my face, embarrassed.

“I can’t control that. Just ask your question, please.” I plead, somewhat awkwardly. He stops grinning and clears his throat, leaving me even more curious.

“I just wanted to know why... why didn’t you answer me that day? Why have you been avoiding me? Why didn’t you go to my mom’s house these days?”

“How do you know I didn’t visit your mom?” I retort, feeling a tingling in my hands, nervous.

“I know because I asked her.” He murmurs, and this time, he’s the one who turns red, as if he didn’t expect my question and feels uncomfortable answering. “After that night, I thought I’d see you again, that we could talk, but you never showed up again.”

“You didn’t show up either.” I defend myself, but I know my stupid argument makes no sense. Jungkook rolls his eyes, looking at me in such a deep way that I find myself breathless, for a good few seconds.

“Seriously Y/N. Did I do something? Did I hurt you in some way?”

“Do you think you did something to me? Is that what you’ve been thinking?”

“I understood it that way, and I’m afraid that it might be true. I don’t want to hurt you, not at all. You’ve helped my mom and have been so good to me. I don’t want to make you feel bad.” He assures again, without stopping. I close my eyes, angry with myself. Is that what I led him to believe when I didn’t respond to his message? When I was cold, did I upset him?

“Jungkook, you didn’t hurt me. Not at all, not in any way. You need to know that.” I affirm in the best way I can, breathless. “I’m like this. That’s why I don’t have friends; that’s why I don’t have people I can count on, because I push everyone away. This is a problem with me, not with you.”

“And why do you do that?” He questions, relaxing his body on the couch. He looks me in the eyes, and even though I try to look away, I can’t. He stare at me in such an intense way that it’s as if he can see my soul. I play with my fingers, not knowing what to do, disconcerted.

“I don’t want to get hurt. Because human relationships are difficult and unstable. Because when you let someone get close, you give them the power to hurt you, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“I know. I understand, and I don’t judge you.” He shakes his head. “So many things have happened in the last few months. I wanted to talk to someone during these days, and incredibly, the only person that came to my mind was you.”

I widen my eyes in surprise. I turn my attention to his face, but he’s distant, staring at something beyond the ceiling of his apartment. It’s as if he’s far away in thoughts and not in this moment, with me. I bite the inside of my cheek, touched. Him thinking of me, even if it’s just to vent, moves me. I like Jungkook. I truly like him, since the first time I saw him. Not just his body or his appearance, but the way he talks to me, as if I were someone worth listening to.

“You, Y/N, did something to me. Since that night, I can’t think of anything else, and I don’t know why.” He confesses, finally returning his face to me. My breathing becomes erratic, my heart races, and my hands get sweaty. “I also, that night, was confused. Just like you.”

“How so?” I ask, speechless.

“I don’t want you to be upset. I want to be honest with you.” He says. He puts one of his big, soft hands close to my face and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I feel that wherever his touch passes, my skin burns. “Before coming to Busan, I had a serious relationship. Very serious.”

“You were with someone?” I ask, afraid to find out he still has something with that person.

“Yes.” He says softly. His breath close enough of me to feel it. “It was so serious that I swore he would be the person I would marry. I had never dated anyone besides him. I had never fallen in love, not that way.” He speaks, confessing to me, and my throat tightens. Does Jungkook like men? He had a relationship with someone of the same sex? For some reason, I never imagined the inked guy could be attracted to the male gender. Still, what really bothers me is when I hear him say he loved him. Does he still love him? Does he still think about him, when he’s alone?

“And then it ended, and everything I believed was shattered.” He shakes his head, and then chuckles without any humor. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I really don't. It’s just that when I’m with you, I feel light. I love my friends, I truly do, but when I’m with you, I feel comfortable, as if you wouldn’t judge me.”

“I wouldn’t judge you for anything, Jungkook.” I say softly and somehow, he can hear me. He smiles too, a little embarrassed.

“You know, after I ended my relationship and then that happened with my mom, I thought I was in a nightmare. All the people I could count on would simply disappear, and I couldn’t do anything, as if my hands were tied.”

“I know what you mean.” I comment, remembering my father. Not his last moments, drunk and a stranger. Those moments, from before, when he was the man I was proud to call my father. The man I knew I could count on, because he was always by my side.

“Tell me a little about you, Y/N. I feel like I’m just talking about myself. I really want to know you more. Listen to you.” He suggests. I raise my eyebrow, surprised.

“I don’t have anything to say.” I chuckle awkwardly.

“Of course you do. Everyone has something to say.” He argues, shaking his head. “Tell me about your life. Have you always lived in Busan?”

“Yes, I’m from Busan.” I reply, smiling slightly. “When I was younger, I went to the beach every weekend because I lived closer to the coast.”

“Really? I’ve never been to the beach.” He says, shrugging. I open my mouth, astonished.

“It’s so strange to hear that. I always went when I was a kid. For some reason, after I moved, I never did again.” I sigh, nostalgic. The things I used to enjoy a few years ago simply lost meaning, when my father died and my mother became the woman she is now.

“Why don’t you go back to the beach once in a while? It’s not that far from here.”

“I don’t know why; I just don’t go. I forgot that I missed it until I started talking to you.” I smile genuinely this time. He returns the smile, nibbling on his rosy lips that I like so much.

“Maybe we could go to the beach together. I to get to know it, and you to reconnect.” He suggests with a light and sincere smile, and my stomach, a little calmer, fills with butterflies again.

“Maybe.” I agree, not knowing if that would actually be possible. Who knows, in the future, or at some other moment. I don’t want to dismiss that possibility when it seems so sweet and inviting. I sigh, looking at the screen of my phone. It’s almost eleven o’clock. I know I have to go home. Jungkook seems to realize my doubt and makes a pout with his lips, almost like a spoiled child who didn’t get what he wanted. "I think I must go."

“We should eat first. I ordered tacos and burritos, and if everything gets cold, the food loses fifty percent of its flavor.” He says, already getting up, not giving me much opportunity to contest. I get up too, rolling my eyes.

“That’s another one of your theories? Like that one of having four meals a day?” I ask, finding it funny. I follow him into his kitchen, watching him take the Mexican food out of some containers. It looks so appetizing and seasoned that my mouth waters.

“My mom was really cruel when I was younger.” Jungkook laughs. He frowns, with that same expression he always makes when he sees something delicious, then looks at me, bringing a taco closer to my mouth. “The first bite has to be yours.”

“You can eat it. You seem hungrier than I am.” I reply, teasing. He pretends to look angry and shakes his head, as if I just said the most nonsensical thing in the world.

“I’m a gentleman. I insist.” He brings the taco closer to my mouth again, and with no alternative, I bite the food he offers me with such insistence. The spicy flavor brings such a rich explosion to my tongue that I can’t help but like it. I must have done something funny tough, because Jungkook smile, in a delightful chuckle that I had never heard coming from him.

“The corner of your mouth is dirty.” He explains in a whisper, pointing to my lower lip. I try to clean it by myself, but I seem to be unsuccessful, as he himself wipes the sauce off my skin with his thumb. I take a few seconds to realize how close he is to me, naturally intoxicating me. I can smell his perfume. His energy that brings electricity to my body. How much my skin longs for him. I want to kiss him again. To feel his lips, just like I did in this same kitchen that morning.

Jungkook seems to understand exactly what I’m thinking because he smiles that loose and careless smirk, as if he knows what I want and is waiting for me to make the first move.

“If you want to kiss me, I give you all my permission. I’m serious.” He jokes, but doesn’t laugh. His dark, big doe-eyes go toward my mouth and I see desire; feelings I had never seen directed at me. I swallow hard, nervous.

“I can’t, Jungkook. My mom, she...” I whisper, trying to organize my thoughts. He smiles, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Forget about your mom, Y/N. Do you want this?” He questions softly. I nod my head. He knows I want to, I want it so badly that it’s as if I’m going to die. “If that’s what you want, do it! Screw what your mom thinks. Just do it.”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t do anything when I came here.” I tell him, chuckling nervously.

“It seems you can’t stay away from me. After that night, I don’t want to stay away from you either.” He denies, closing his eyes. “This week was hell... I don’t want to feel alone. Do you feel the same as I do?”

“I do.” I agree, and without thinking much, I kiss him.

His warm lips touch mine, and if I could save this moment in my head and make copies, I would. Unlike the first night I was here, Jungkook is calmer, less desperate. It’s as if he has time to be with me and wants to enjoy every second. I feel his hands on my waist, pulling me towards him until I’m completely fused to his body. I grunt when his tongue requests entry inside my mouth, and I can’t stop him, nor do I want to. I pull at his hair, feeling its softness, in a pleasant caress at the nape of his neck. He smiles during the kiss, moaning. He slowly separates from me, holds my cheeks with both hands, and seals our lips once again, in short pecks that spread across my entire face. I chuckle when one of them touches my jawline, tickling me.

“Stop, please!” I burst out laughing when he continues, kissing my forehead, nose, and finally, my lips again.

“I'm only stopping because I need to breathe.” He laughs with me, finally ceasing.

“Ok, clingy boy, I really need to go now.” I mock disheartened, trying to disentangle myself from him. He stops me, kissing me again.

“Please, don’t go.”

“I have to go. Seriously.”

“It’s too early.” He argues, caressing my face with his thumb.

“What happened to you, Jungkook? Why are you being so dramatic?” I question, curious. He’s different. A good different, but I can’t understand him. Does he want something serious with me? He doesn’t love the person he was in a serious relationship with, anymore? There are so many questions in my head that I feel lost.

“I'm not being dramatic. I like you, Y/N.” He assures me as if it were the most obvious thing, with those dark, big eyes, so pure... I simply can’t explain why, I just believe him.

“You do?” I ask, smiling. No one ever said that to me. A good feeling fills me; my cheeks turn red as he nods his head.

“I like. I thought you knew.” He says simply. And then peck me again. “Come on, before you go, you’re going to eat with me.”

“Okay, but I need to be quick. It’s getting really late.” I say, worried about my mom; the fact that she might find out I left the house.

“I’ll accompany you in the taxi. I’m not letting you go alone. Then I can come back here.”

“Really?” I ask. He chuckles, pulling my hand until I sit in the chair. “Then okay. Let's eat. And Jungkook?"

"What?"

"I like you too." I say, seeing his small and cute smile

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[atimesfeeler]

I loved @twilightkitkat 's post SO MUCH I just had to add to it. It reminded me of a fic I'm working on rn.

I especially liked the part with Vanessa because I don’t think she just left him because of the reason Wade thinks. She didn’t just want him to be a superhero or whatever- in the flash back, she’s begging him to open up to her, to be present, to let her help him and I don’t thinks Wade could do it.

He felt like, incorrectly, that he couldn’t burden her with it. He has so much baggage and pain and issues, and he can’t corrupt her with that. He had cancer and instead of spending his last days with her, he left her. And when he survived he avoided her until she was literally kidnapped.

Everyone thinks Logan runs but really Wade does. He doesn’t want the people he loves to know he’s in pain. At his birthday party, he’s obviously miserable but everybody’s together! And smiling! So he’s going to be happy and pretend he’s just fine. But he’s not even very good at hiding it bc, like mentioned before, it’s a little bitter. His jokes don’t land or they come out passive aggressive and tense. But nobody calls him out for it except Logan. Logan who tells him in the meanest way that he’s a clown but that he’s sad, pathetic, and attention starved. He’s not buying the clown act.

And when Logan moves in, I love the idea that he starts noticing Wade when his mask falls or he gets too tired to pretend.

I’m writing a fic where Wade deals with chronic pain in less healthy ways and, of course, he tries to hide it. It's more brief and censored on tumblr bc I don't want to get my account terminated again, but it will be more detailed on ao3.

…

He dealt with it in other ways. The pain.

After all, a little bit of death couldn’t hurt, right?

Treating himself gently only sometimes worked. If he did everything right, if he did all the steps then maybe, maybe it would ease up. Sleep well, wake up at the right time, eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, draw a scalding bath, and take some hard hitting drugs.

Most days, Wade was much more impatient. Most days, Wade failed. It was too hard to take care of himself when waking up felt like dragging himself up from glacier water and pounding on the underside of the ice. Cooking was a nightmare he didn’t even want to consider tackling, and he was rarely patient enough to wait for the bath to fill or for sleep to take him as his body wracked with pain.

There were faster, easier, more instant ways of relieving the pain.

Any pain that didn’t stem from his own body was good.

With Vanessa, Wade had tried the healthy way. The three meals, ten hours of sleep, and taking his vitamins. The whole mile. There was this urge he constantly resisted that told him it would release the tension in his skull if he carved under his eye into his cheek where the migraine pulsed, like he was some sort of fucked up carpenter with voices in his head.

Vanessa didn’t understand it. If he was in pain, why would he want to be in more? She understood his masochistic tendencies in bed where they mixed pain and pleasure, but just pain? Just harm for the sake of being harmed? They got into a lot of fights about it.

He resisted the attempts. Hid them from her where he could. Sometimes he’d miscalculate, and she’d walk into the bathroom before he could heal and clean up his brain splattered on the bathroom tile. She hated it, and Wade hated that he was hurting her.

He reeled back any anger or snippy comments that stemmed from the sheer newness of having his body feel like it was dying all the time. It was so hard to interact when pain rippled through him like a feedback chamber. It made his fuse short and curt. His witty remarks turned snappish and bitchy. People asked stupid questions and made even stupider comments when he was having a Bad Pain Day, and everything felt a bit more raw and oozing. Wade didn’t have the energy to keep up the act and while his mind rarely stopped running, it shifted into something darker when pain was on his mind. His jokes fell flat, laced with a bitter ending. Sometimes, Wade didn’t even want to talk. He wanted to punch someone. Maybe even himself. And every time he snapped or said something he didn’t mean, he wanted to hurt himself even more.

Quickly, he grew exhausted putting on a brave face, and he had never been good at letting people help him. There was this awful clash of wanting to be comforted by the people he loved and hating that he needed comfort. It made him feel weak and pathetic, and Wade already hated so much about himself that he didn’t want anyone to see the twisted, fucked up parts of him. How ironic that he always had an audience anyway. He couldn’t hide it from you or whoever was watching him those days, but he could hide it from the people he loved. Shield them from it, almost.

On Bad Pain Days, Wade didn’t want anything to be different. He didn’t want to acknowledge the pain he dealt with, and seeing that pity on her face set his teeth on edge. It both hurt to be babied and, later, it hurt to be ignored when he stubbornly insisted he was fine.

Obviously, it didn’t work out.

It was better with Al.

Al tried to help. Once or twice. Her motherly instincts kicked in, maybe, Wade didn’t know. He shot himself once in front of her while they were watching the Bachelorette together, and she cursed him out and told him to stop and never do it again. Wade took his little attempts to the bathroom after that. He cleaned up after himself. He went out. Wade tended not to do the more dramatic methods that draw attention.

Wade had it down to a science. A decent chunk out of his frontal lobe sent Wade into a pleasant, almost subspace-like place. He would just… float and forget that his body hurt all that bad. It was good for Bad Brain DaysTM too when Wade’s thoughts were louder, faster than normal, and the voices stopped sounding like himself. When the fourth wall was a little too easy to see, and it got to him, being the doomed comic relief, when his head was trying to split his consciousness in two.

If his temporal lobe was nicked, then Wade would start hallucinating and hear a banger of a song while time, space, and movement sort of fucked up for a second. It felt like getting high, but he didn’t need an entire bag of cocaine and to hot box weed to get there.

If something happened to his parietal lobe, the pain wouldn’t know where to go. A bear could literally be eating his insides, but the pain signals couldn’t register if they had nowhere to go.

He did most of his questionable coping methods in the stereotypical bathroom spot. It was private, and Al got onto him for getting blood and bits all over the apartment. He once left his liver or his kidney in the kitchen sink, and Althea threatened to call the cops on him - her coke stash be damned. Now he’d drape himself in the empty tub, play music loudly, and expertly deal with the pain.

The system he had was fine. Regulated. It was working. It was fine. It wasn’t going to get any better.

Until Logan.

...

I haven't posted it on ao3 yet, but it will be apart of the series for my fic where Wade cries in the Honda instead of fighting.