#i've been noodling this around my head

[figsbass]

that's life

[selfspinninglies]

I am sooosooso normal about the death note musical do not ask me about it

[headspace-hotel]

you know how people say "cats domesticated themselves?" I find this statement irksome because as i've been studying plants and particularly weeds, a theory has slowly been forming in my head about domestication that makes a lot more sense than other theories.

Basically, I think everything domesticated itself. Or rather, domestication involves adaptation and active participation on both sides.

Evidence for this is found in studying weed and crop plants—truth be told, most weeds are or were also crops.

Amaranthus, the genus that gives us the most costly USA agricultural weeds? All edible and healthy, and several members of the genus are domesticated. They were staple crops for Mesoamerican empires.

Kudzu, the vine so aggressive in the USA it turns trees into looming kudzu monoliths? It's been bred and cultivated by humans since the Neolithic in its native range, in China it was one of the main sources of fiber for cloth for MILLENNIA to the point that the Zhou dynasty had a whole government office of kudzu affairs. Kudzu roots are edible and they can be as tall as a human and weighing over 200 pounds, you can make them into flour, make noodles out of the flour, you can process them down into a starch and use it just like potato or tapioca starch and make all sorts of sauces and confections and stuff out of it. In Japan it was used for clothes too, if you see pictures of clothes worn by a samurai that's probably kudzu! It has loads of unresearched phytochemicals that probably have medicinal use, it's good for making paper, a researcher even made a biodegradable alternative to plastic out of it

Yellow Nutsedge is a food crop, Purslane is a food crop, at least some species of morning-glories are food crops, crabgrass is a food crop, Nettles are food AND fiber, Milkweed is food and fiber too, Broadleaf Plantain is food and medicinal, Dandelion is food and medicinal AND great companion plant (they used to sell them in seed catalogues around the 1890's or so!) and have y'all ever seen queen-anne's-lace along the side of the road? THATS CARROTS. That's the wild ancestor of carrots! (ofc don't eat anything you aren't 1000% sure you can identify)

Simply put. A weed is a plant that has co-evolved with humans. And most of them are Like That because they co-evolved with us. And honestly I reckon that many plants were domesticated in the first place because they liked to grow in disturbed environments near human settlements and agricultural fields.

Now thinking about this in terms of animals...when our domestic species were first domesticated, there weren't fences, there wasn't "inside" or any controlled environment to bring animals into, and if you tried to overpower or coerce any of those species, they would 100% just kill you. It makes a lot more sense if the humans were just following herds around, and it gradually developed into protecting those herds from predators and tending to them more intentionally until we were kind of just part of the herds ourselves.

a lot of people are familiar with Biblical stories and metaphors about shepherds...it's clear those guys were basically living with sheep 24/7. They were assimilated to the sheep lifestyle.

this theory kinda suggests that we've lost the ability to domesticate new animal species to some extent because domestication has never really involved removing an animal from its natural environment. Feeding wild animals and trying to socialize them to humans isn't in line with the mutualistic nature of domestication because it's trying to change the animal to our whims, and usually decreases the fitness of the animal rather than increases it. And domestication probably takes a long long time to reach the level where an animal can be a "pet" instead of a more distant form of domestication where the association is not as close.

EXCEPT. Animals that adapt to our environment are prime candidates for domestication. This actually checks out because rats and mice are some of the most recently domesticated animals, iirc. Basically, pest animals are the most likely to be domesticated because they've already started evolving into a relationship with us. Just like weeds.

An interesting side note is how both animals and plants can de-domesticate and become "weeds/pests" again. Like "weedy rice" is becoming a problem in some crops where rice has evolved into a weed. And with animals, there's pigeons who were domesticated by us and now their habitat is cities because they co-evolved with us.

[jackhues]

it's not hate... | oscar piastri

note: okay so i was bored and i got a random inspiration i hope y'all like this <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers

next

faceclaim: various, from pinterest

youruser & logansargeant

liked by y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, yourmomsig & others

youruser: gang's back together 🤘

pinned youruser: welcome back to america @/logansargeant glad you could join us! -> user: i love how she seems sarcastic but i know babes is so happy he's back

user: logan living out his frat dreams

user: this would be logan daily if he didn't go into racing

user: wait i'm confused... who's this? -> user: y/n y/ln! from what we know, her and logan are best friends since they were born or something. she finished her undergrad, but i think she's doing law school now (?)

user: i ship -> user: ew

y/bffsuser: not pictured is the entire drink falling out -> logansargeant: it wasn't my fault! she moved her head -> youruser: yeah okay, blame the woman -> logansargeant: i blame when she's wrong. and you are. -> user: stop they're so sibling

yourmomsig: aw no one posted the pic of y/n falling off the bed during the fight -> youruser: MOM! -> logansargeant: i tried but she stole my phone -> user: well we know who the favorite child is now

y/bffsuser: @/yourprivuser no photo creds -> user: IS THAT Y/N'S PRIVATE USER???!!! I NEED TO BE ACCEPTER NOWWW this comment thread has been deleted

oscarpiastri has requested yourprivuser!

--

--

--

y/bffspodcast

liked by user, user, oscarpiastri & others

y/bffspodcast: surprise episode out now! take a listen for exclusive deets on logan's love life, his best friends, and the time he almost became a dad to a baby crocodile

tagged: logansargeant

user: i'm sorry, logan did WHAT NOW?

user: A CROCODILE?? -> user: well he does live in florida

user: it's a crime that y/n and oscar haven't met before. i need the irl best and the f1 bestie to get together and spill tea on logan -> oscarpiastri: well we might have to change that this weekend -> user: OSCAR??!! PLEASE DO IT! I BEG!

--

Y/BFFS PODCAST - TRANSMISSION timestamp: 4:40-8:23

y/bff: i mean, you've known y/n your whole life, right?

logan: my whole life, yup. like, i was maybe only a few hours old when i saw her for the first time. you already know this, but like we have the same birthday, december 31st 2000. and we're also born at the same time, in the same hospital, literally right across the hall from each other.

YB: same time? like seriously? how did i not know that?

LS: *laughs* i mean, same time. down to the minute, at least. it's why we call each other 'twin', we're born at the same time. and like our parent knew each other and joked that we might be born on the same day... little did they know

YB: *laughing* that's insane. oh my gosh, and you guys have just been best friends since then. i love that. i assume you're the one who's got all the younger high school stories about her. i got some college ones, but you have the real gold mine, don't you?

LS: i've got my fair share of our insane stories, yeah

YB: mind sharing one?

LS: i'm trying to think of one that's not absolutely insane... oh okay! so one time, we were in the pool, it was summer, and then y/n just stops trying to murder me with the pool noodle and goes still. i'm confused as hell, so i'm trying to see what she's doing but she tells me to shut up. she's watching the bushes around the pool, so i swim to the edge of the pool next to her, and the two of us are just watching the bushes. i have no idea what's going on, but y/n's waiting for something. and then, a baby croc starts walking out of it, and it's so small, but like it's mom was nowhere. we didn't know what to do. and y/n *laughs* y/n goes, "oh we have to adopt it". i'm like what? but she just start spiraling "oh we're his parents now. he just saw us. what if the mom died? i don't know how to feed a baby croc? but i have to learn, it's my baby croc now." finally she calms down, and we get everything sorted out, but she cried when we had to leave the baby crocodile. adopted it and all within three seconds of seeing it

YB: *laughing* i'm dead, oh my god that sounds like her though. that's so fucking funny, she made you a crocodile dad!

--

--

--

--

--

Y/N ADJUSTED HER SUNGLASSES, the Miami sun nearly blinding her as she walked towards the paddock. Next to her, her racer best friend, Logan Sargeant, nearly skipped along next to her. She could feel his excitement at being able to race so close to home again, and it honestly helped lift her own spirits.

Logan smiled and waved at some cameras and fans nearby, grinning brightly and taking the time to stop and sign some stuff. Once the fans had trickled away, Logan made his way back to his best friend, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked, turning his head away from the cameras so they couldn't read his lips.

"I'm great," she promised.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he reminded her. "We can say you were sick, or you weren't feeling well, or you just forgot, or-"

"-That I have diarrhea?" Y/N grinned a little. "You know, all of your solutions to this thing seem to involve me just running away or ignoring it."

"I mean, it's how you take on most of life," he shrugged.

"I've never felt more called out in life," she rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got a plan. I head over to the garage first, take a few pics, then say 'oh I have to go. I haven't even been to Williams' garage yet'. I've got this Logie, I promise. Besides, I don't even hate him. If I did, there would be a lot more violence threatened and swearing involved. I also would've blocked him."

Logan didn't look necessarily convinced, but he didn't argue either. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If you need anything, send me a 911 text. I'll be on standby the entire time, I swear."

Y/N smiled at the boy, waving goodbye as she dropped him off to the Williams garage.

"I know you'll be there," she smiled. "It's what we do. Be there for each other."

MEANWHILE, IN THE MCLAREN GARAGE, the Aussie driver was pacing back and forth, turning back to the entrance every few seconds.

"Yeah, great job at being subtle, Osc," Lando Norris, his teammate, commented sarcastically. "Who're you even waiting for?"

"Y/N," Oscar answered simply.

Normally, he'd engage in banter with his Brit teammate, but he was too nervous to give answers longer than a few words. He was finally going to see Y/N, in person. Not on the other side of a screen, not a flash of hair that ran away too quickly, not a caller ID he'd see on Logan's phone all too often. After all these years, he was finally going to be able to see her, face to face.

He had to admit, he did seem a little pathetic trying to contact her. But the DM he'd sent years ago on her public account had never gone through. And he'd left it, thinking maybe they weren't meant to know each other, simply to know of each other.

But then he'd seen her private instagram, with so few followers, he knew that she wouldn't be able to miss it. But maybe she didn't use it, or maybe it was an old account, but he had no luck on that account either.

He finally mustered the courage to ask Logan for her number and just reach out. He was surprised and a little shocked she said yeah, but he was in too deep now to change his mind.

"Oooh, who's Y/N?" Lando teased. "Is she a girlfriend?"

Oscar whipped his head towards his teammate, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Why are you a literal child?" he asked. "Y/N's a friend. Well, she's a friend of Logan's. His best friend. And everyone found out the two of us never met each other, and they went crazy saying we have to meet and whatnot. So I invited her here to take a few pictures."

Lando tilted his head, almost as if he was dissecting the truth behind Oscar's words.

"Logan? Logan Sargeant's best friend? Her name's Y/N?"

"Yes, Lando. And everyone says I'm his best friend in racing, so we have to meet or something."

"Alright, I believe you," Lando decided. "Call me when she gets here, I want to take pictures with her too."

"Sure," Oscar answered nonchalantly.

Turns out, there was no need to call him over, because a second after he'd said that, she walked in.

Oscar stared at her as she looked around the garage, her eyes drinking in just how different it was from the Williams' garage that she was used to.

Lando made a noise between a snort and a laugh, causing Oscar to glare at him.

"No, nothing," Lando nodded to himself, ignoring Oscar's silent question. He cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting across the garage, "Y/N!"

Her head whipped over to the sound of her name, her posture relaxing the slightest bit as she realized it was only Lando and Oscar and not some random person. She didn't exactly know them, never even met them, but she knew enough of them to be a little comfortable.

She smiled slightly as she reached them, "Hey. How are you guys?"

Lando looked to Oscar, who simply stared at Y/N, before decided to take the reigns. "We're good, thanks for asking. I'm Lando, my friend here is Oscar, and I assume you already know that."

"Yeah, I watch enough F1 to know that," she smiled, falling into easy conversation with the Brit.

"Well it's nice to know you didn't take an invitation from a man who's name you didn't know," Lando joked. "That's what I call important information."

"I went a step further and made sure he was known by a friend of mine," Y/N continued the banter. "My best friend." She turned to acknowledge Oscar, "Logan spoke highly of you for a long time now. It's nice to finally be able to meet you."

"Yeah, same," he nodded. "I mean, Logan's spoke a lot about you too. All the time. He still does. It's nice to meet you too."

Oscar resisted the urge to close his eyes and curse himself out.

Y/N didn't seem to mind his stuttering and stumbling. In fact, her posture seemed to straighten out a bit, and her smile turned a little bit more warm.

She was beginning to realize that no matter how bad Logan had gotten it, Oscar was human too. He was new to this, and he probably had someone defending him the way she defended Logan. Maybe she was a little harsh on him. She just didn't like how it wasn't fair.

It was why she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to try and make things fair for people.

But in defending Logan with her entire heart and soul... she was being unfair to Oscar. She could try and be nice. It's only for a few minutes. After that, she could go back to avoiding him.

"So, how do you wanna do the pictures?" Y/N asked. "We should get them done now, I might have to leave early if my laptop doesn't work. I have a few assignments due."

"Right, yeah," Oscar nodded. "We can- uh-"

"The lighting's nice over there," Lando pointed out. "I'll take the picture of you guys."

"You don't wanna be in it?" Y/N asked.

"No, I'm alright," Lando smiled. "Unfortunately, I'm not best friends with Logan, unlike you two. Besides, I'm pretty good with a camera."

Y/N frowned at the reminder that Lando was one of the drivers who wasn't friends with Logan. She quickly fixed her expression, but Oscar noticed (only because he'd has his eyes on her ever since she entered). He was tempted to ask her about it, but she smiled and his brain froze up.

"Alright then, let's take the picture."

--

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others

youruser: miami, you were fun 🤍

tagged: logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri

pinned youruser: to my haters: fuck you, i'm always proud of logan. no matter what. i chose him as my best friend and i'll choose him again every time. i'm just sad y'all have never loved someone so much to understand what it means to always be proud of them, no matter any outcome. he's my best friend, my brother, and the outcome of race isn't going to change that

pinned youruser: i heard there was a logan's besties meet up @/oscarpiastri -> oscarpiastri: oh yeah, did you end up making it? -> youruser: swipe to find out!

landonorris: same time next race 👀👀 -> youruser: wanna do my class for me?? -> landonorris: i will understand nothing. -> oscarpiastri: as if you understand anything ever -> landonorris: all grown up now, are you? -> oscarpiastri: shut up

mclaren: it was a pleasure having you stop by! next time, you should stay for longer! -> williamsracing: stop stealing her from us

williamsracing: loved having you around for the weekend!

alex_albon: wowwww, i didn't even make the cut this weekend -> youruser: all the pics i took of you were 0.5s -> alex_albon: thanks for showing some mercy

user: stop she looks so pretty

user: logan bestie meet up... but where's logan? -> user: getting attacked by a haas in his home race -> user: oof

user: TELL EM GIRL!

user: i want what she and logan have. like they'd DIE for each other

oscarpiastri: it was great to finally meet you! hopefully it's not the last time either -> user: boy please TRY to be subtle

--

--

PART TWO

notes: i hope y'all liked this, don't forget to like + reblog! alsoo... comment on this part (not any others) if you want to be tagged, i might not respond but i'll add you to the taglist if you comment.

but my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)

[rueclfer]

saturdays are for the blondes // fratboy smau part two

a/n: i imagine frat'splug! hawks to be the type of guy who doesn't actually smoke that often bc he's on a baseball scholarship and doesn't wanna risk it so he just hustles hehe *written under the cut*

denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, hawks

"What are you putting on a shirt for?" You mumble, sitting on the edge of the sunken mattress as you watch Keigo dig through the dresser.

"Kinda gross to be walking around this grimy frat house without a shirt on, don't 'cha think? But any other time and occasion, I'll take more than just the shirt off for you." He slightly turns his head and shoots you a suggestive look before turning back towards the dresser.

You press your lips together as your already flushed face heatens, silently thanking the alcohol for masking this blush.

After rummaging around, he pulls out a basic black tee with a skull print in the front. "Cute or nah? Could you see yourself stealing this?"

"Shut up." You drunkenly laugh, crinkling the half empty plastic water bottle in your hands. "Cute enough, but it screams too much of Dabi."

"It is his clothes I'm stealing from, after all." Keigo takes off his baseball cap with the university's seal, and slips the shirt over his head, letting you take in the full view of his arms stretching his torso up as he maneuvers the fitted shirt over his body.

"I forgot what a fucking noodle he is." He lightly stretches out the sleeves for his biceps.

Yup. That's why he's the star player on the baseball team.

It may have been the alcohol sneaking its way into your mind, but nothing had ever looked as good as Keigo did in this moment. Every now and then with his back turned to you, you pulled the collar of his shirt up to your nose and deeply inhaled his scent: a mix of laundry detergent, marijuana, and his citrusy-sandalwood based cologne- a scent you were all too familiar with.

"Alright, dove." He kneels down at eye level with you. "Sober up a little bit more and then I'm gonna take you home, got it?"

You nodded your head. "You're too good to me. Thank you for taking care of me." You sigh.

"Mmhm." He hums, letting himself take a seat next to you, leaning back on the mattress with his hands behind his head. "Favorite customer, remember?"

You pout for a moment, now leaning down with him, elbow propping your upper body up.

"Why is that pretty face of yours making that expression?" He looks over at you with an amused smirk.

"I dunno, just thinking." You mumble. "Hypothetically, is it a conflict of interest if we got together? Mixing pleasure and work or something like that?"

Keigo stops breathing for a moment, watching your face carefully. "Uhh I don't think so." His voice slightly cracks, bringing a faint blush to his cheeks. "I mean, no. Hypothetically, no it's not." He coughs. "Uh, why?"

You scoot yourself closer to Keigo, watching his eyes widen and face deepen into a harsher blush as you reach up to remove his baseball cap.

"Hypothetically, would that be something you're interested in?"

He stares at you for a beat with no response, causing your stomach to twist in anticipation. He'd been a relentless flirt for years, and now that you've presented him with an opportunity to be with you tonight, he wasn't going to take it?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You break the silence.

"I've liked you since we were freshmen." He blurts out, letting his hand come up to cover his mouth from the outburst. "And you're evil for giving me an opening to kiss you right now when you're drunk as shit, because I'm not going to."

"Like me? Not just want to get in my pants?" You cock your head to the side, slightly confused.

"Are you fucking kidding me? In love, actually." He nervously chuckles. "Anyways! Uh, we have to leave."

He jumps out of the bed, grabbing your wrists and hoisting you up, causing you to stumble into him.

"Wait what? In love? You drop that piece of info and you wanna leave?" You whine, holding onto his shoulder to stabilize yourself.

"Well, you're drunk and I don't want either of us to say anything we'll regret. Plus this conversation needs to not happen in Dabi's bed or else he'll gut me." Keigo nervously laughs, placing the hat back on his head.

"Yours or mine? You know what, are your roommates home? Maybe I'll just drop you back at yours and hand you off to them, and then we'll talk more about this when you're sober?" He frantically checks his pockets for his phone and keys, clearly panicking now after the sudden confession. "You know, since you're still drunk and I really like you and don't want to fuck this up and-"

"Keigo." You grab the fabric of his shirt to stop him. "There's a reason why I'm always buying from you at stupid hours of the day. I like your stupid flirting, and I like teasing you back, and spending time with you, alright? Don't ask me to repeat this when I'm sober, but I do really like you and I only ever said no because I thought you were a whore."

"Okay, ouch." He lets out a shaky chuckle. "You're really trying to fucking kill me tonight, aren't you?" He blows out a breath of air, lifting his hat and running his hand through his hair. "Okay. We'll talk on the drive and then I'll drop you off at home then, okay?

"No." You whine "Sleep over. My roommates aren't home to take care of me."

He stops for a second, looking at your flushed cheeks, glossy eyes and pouty face. Keigo knew you were his weakness, something he could never say no to and it might ultimately be his downfall- losing profit, almost throwing a game because he saw your face in the stands with his jersey number painted on your face, and risking this persona he spent years mastering.

"I'm taking the couch or the floor, and I'll be expecting a kiss and a debrief date in the morning, got it?"

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Wonka Welcome! ꒱

Pairing :: Willy Wonka x Fem!Reader

Synopsis :: There's a new bakery in town and Wonka stops by to give the owner a warm welcome.

Includings :: Slight spoilers, events happen after the movie, Wonka speaking nonsense/being illiterate, him pulling shit out of hat, slight flirting, this is really short (im just trying to dump my drafts), nothing but fluff

An :: "He's the worst Wonka" ok but he's the hottest so send requests!

"What's that you got there, Noodle?"

Willy questioned, brows furrowed but eyes full of curiosity as Noodle walked back into the shop. She had a small tart-like thing in her hand, a few crumbs dusted across her chin as she licked her fingers.

It was small yet colorful, some sort of filling under a few fruits as Noodle held it out to the brunette to take a bite.

"A tart."

He hummed, taking a bite from it and his eyes went wide as he hummed again after tasting it. The crust had a perfect crisp taste to it, the fruit each tasting perfectly ripe.

"Delicious! Did you make that all on your own? How? Where?"

Noodle shook her head as she finished the rest of it, wiping her fingers down on the bottom of her pants. "Not me. There's a baker, she just opened up across from us, don't know how you haven't noticed."

"What!?"

Will practically teleported over to the window, hands pressed against it like a child who was passing his shop for the first time. His eyes were glistening as he saw there was a Bakery shop positioned right across from him.

"Well, I think I ought to say hello! Give her a warm Wonka welcome!" He hummed, adjusting his top hat as he walked out the doors and across the street.

He looked up, eyes scanning across the shop's sign and he narrowed them a bit. Noodle had been continuing to teach him how to read but of course, he still had a few issues.

"[Mispronounced version of name]'s blissful bakes." He muttered to himself before pushing the door open, the sound of a bell chiming above him as he did so.

"Welcome! Menu's right above me and you can order when you're ready." He heard a soft voice chirp.

He walked a bit closer, seeing a girl wearing a simple outfit with a white apron that had red hearts printed all over it. Her hair styled in [hairstyle]/wrapped up. She was mixing something in a bowl before turning around.

She turned her head to Willy and he had felt his heart stutter for a second when their eyes had met and a smile automatically grew across his face.

"Oh! You're the Willy Wonka, right?"

"The one and only, ma'am!"

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" She set the bowl down, walking back to the front counter as she held out her hand. "I'm [Y/n]."

Oh. That's how it was pronounced, he thought it seemed a bit odd when he said it out loud earlier.

He took her hand, turning it so he could place a soft kiss upon the back of her palm. "A pleasure! I can't believe we haven't talked yet!"

"I'm a homebody. I don't roam around town too much unless it's to get here or more ingredients." She answered and he had nodded.

"Well, I believe a warm Wonka welcome is far overdue."

"A warm Wonka welcome? Just what is that?" She asked, smiling a bit out of amusement.

"This!" Willy exclaimed, taking off his hat as reaching his hand into it and pulled out a chocolate bouquet of flowers even equipped with a chocolate bow.

[Y/n]'s eyes widened with surprise as she smiled and took them, surprised that they weren't sticky at all but felt as if they had been in the fridge.

She had broke off one of the petals from the chocolate rose, popping it into her mouth. She hummed in satisfaction as she grabbed another.

"Oh my god. This is the best chocolate I've ever had."

"Thank you! I get that a lot." Wonka smiled and she had giggled, taking another bite of the bouquet.

"Please, let me give you a warm welcome as well. Choose anything and it's on the house."

The brunette tilted his head, brows furrowing a bit. "Why would it be on your house?"

"Huh?" Her expression matched his confusion as she shook her head. "No- that just means it's free!"

"Ohhh." His eyes scanned the menu, there were a lot of choices he honestly felt a bit overwhelmed. He finally decided, pointing to it.

"What're you pointing at me for?"

"Can I not have you?" He asked, his tone a bit playful as he leaned against the counter with a smug smile.

"Why don't you pick something actually on a menu?" She giggled, rolling her eyes playfully and he chuckled.

"Alright, alright." He hummed. "How about one of your tarts? One with strawberries, blueberries and kiwis."

"Alright, one tart coming right your way."

[cherryredcheol]

"dumpling"

tldr: all the ways jun uses your nickname a/n: i love him so bad. i've been waiting to post this forever.

slobbers: around a mouthful of food

“dumpling,” he sprays it, more than says it, but you look at him nonetheless. your chopsticks paused midair, a clump of noodles hanging precariously over the rug; the rug you’d picked out together for your new living room. he liked this rug, but the one in your new bedroom was his favorite. 

“this is going to be fun. living with you, i mean. it’ll be a good time.” he stumbled over his words, overwhelmed with feeling but unable to express it. you seemed to get the point, smiling wide as you opened your mouth to slurp your noodles. he meant it too, this first night in your shared place together was just the start of, what he hoped would be, an amazing adventure. 

‘i love you, dumpling.” he smiled at you, confident you felt the same even if you hadn’t nodded in agreement enthusiastically at his words, cheeks still too full of lo mein to give a proper response to his soft words. as he watched you swallow your dinner, he leaned closer, bringing a gentle hand to your cheek, “you’ve got sauce on your face.”

taunts: when he’s winning a game

“dumpling” your head whips around, hearing his sing-songy voice from the darkness ahead. or was it behind? you can’t tell. this wing of the hybe building was dark at this time of night and it had been his wonderful idea to play hide and seek…in the dark. and now he was hiding somewhere in a building you aren’t that familiar with, tormenting you from the safety of said darkness. 

“i see you…” you whipped around again, aiming your phone flashlight at the dark corner of the conference room. were those footsteps you heard? how is he so quiet? maybe you should put a collar with a little bell on him, one to match your cat at home. lost in thought, you almost miss the movement against the wall. turning quickly, you brandish your flashlight. 

“ah! my eyes!” his hand goes up, protecting his pupils from the bright light in an entirely dark room. you hold the flashlight in place, pleased to see him struggle after he tormented you with this little chase around the dark halls of hybe. plus, you were scared if it was dark again, he’d slink off somewhere else and the game would start all over. he waved the hand not covering his eyes at you,  “put that thing down, and let's go home. i’ll give you your prize for winning…”

cackles: at your expense

“dumpling!” he barked out in a laugh. you grabbed quickly for a napkin to dab the steaming broth off your cheeks. you two were out on a hotpot date and you had slurped your noodles a little too hard causing hot, spicy soup to splash across your face. you were not hurt, just embarrassed, especially as he continued to laugh at your fumble. it even splattered onto your cute top.

“are you okay?” he giggled even as he asked this, passing you another napkin to get the sprinkle off your forehead. you took the napkin, but not without pouting at him, hoping to garner some sympathy. He laughed harder, making your pout into a full-blown frown, something he never wanted to see, especially if he caused it. 

“i’m sorry, dumpling. are you alright?” he reached for your hand across the table, offering some comfort to you, easing the embarrassment you felt. feeling your hand wrapped up in his did make you feel better. and the broth wasn’t that hot. maybe the pouting wasn’t necessary. his caring demeanor broke as he let out another giggle, “you’re just so cute, dumpling!”

calls out: while dead asleep 

“dumpling~” you’re only half awake when you hear it. his back was pressed to yours and you had assumed he was asleep. he’d had a long day and had basically passed out as soon as you two had gone to bed. you’d stayed up and played on your phone for a little while before settling down yourself. 

“dumpling~” you heard it again, clearer this time and more whiny. this time you rolled over, your front now pressed to his back. you debated waking him up, knowing he had to be up early for his schedule, but when he called out a third time, your debate ended. shaking him lightly you woke him up. 

“what’s going on? are you okay?” he was confused as to why you had woken him up, assuming something must be wrong. he was still half-asleep so he only half understood when you explained to him he’s been calling out to you in his sleep. you were just about to ask if he was having a bad dream when you were cut off by his stomach rumbling, “i think i’m just hungry, dumpling.”

whoops: when he’s proud of you

“dumpling!” he shot up from the couch as soon as he saw ‘winner’ flash across your half of the screen. you’d been in an intense mario kart tournament with wonwoo and you had just won the final race, winning the whole thing in a completely unexpected upset. the rest of the boys stared at the screen, a little shocked at the result.

“i knew you could do it!” he folded you into a bone-crushing hug, celebrating like you’d just won gold at the olympics instead of some silly video game. but he was proud of you and wanted you to know it. he pulled back to look at your face, a smile stretching across his entire face. he pulled you back into his arms, relishing in your victory. 

“i’m so proud of you,” he whispered in your ear, causing your cheeks to heat up, bashful about his confession in the room full of people, despite that it was said for only you to hear. he pulled you out of the hug for real this time, and planted a soft kiss on your cheek, deepening your blush. “wonwoo, since you lost, you have to fund our next date.” 

[mybelovedwoo]

memories of us

bff!san x f!reader

fluff, childhood best friends to lovers / wc: 1.5k

note: i'm back with another san story, i hope you all like it!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

san masterlist - main masterlist

As the swings gently creaked under their weight, San and Y/n sat side by side, the cool night air brushing against their cheeks. The playground, once a realm of youthful adventures, now held a nostalgic charm that wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.

"Do you remember the time we built that sandcastle so tall it almost touched the sky?" Y/n chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with memories of carefree days.

San smiled, his gaze fixed on Y/n, his best friend since forever. "Yeah, and then it got washed away by a furious monster. We were so upset that day."

They both laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a gentle glow over the playground where they had spent countless hours growing up together.

"I miss those days," Y/n murmured, her voice tinged with wistfulness. "Everything seemed so simple back then."

San nodded in agreement, his heart beating a little faster as he looked at Y/n. Tonight felt different somehow, like the universe had conspired to create this moment just for them.

"Do you remember Mr. Thompson's math class?" Y/n laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You were always the one who saved me from failing."

San chuckled softly. "Yeah, you were never a fan of numbers. But we always managed to get through it together."

As they reminisced, San couldn't help but steal glances at Y/n when she wasn't looking. She looked beautiful under the moonlight, her hair catching the soft glow, her laughter ringing like music in his ears.

"So many memories," San said softly, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "But I think my favorite moments were just being with you."

Y/n looked at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "You've always been there for me, San. I don't know what I'd do without you."

San felt a rush of warmth at her words but noticed Y/n shivering slightly in the cool night air. "Hey, you're cold," he said softly, unzipping his jacket and offering it to her. "Here, take this."

Y/n hesitated for a moment before accepting the jacket gratefully. "Thanks, San. You always think of everything."

San chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, if you catch a cold, who's going to laugh at my terrible jokes?"

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Your jokes aren't that bad."

They laughed together, the tension easing between them. With Y/n wrapped in San's jacket, they decided to leave the playground and head to their favorite Korean barbecue restaurant. The familiar scent of grilled meat and the lively atmosphere welcomed them as they settled into their usual table.

Over sizzling meat and glasses of soju, they continued their nostalgic trip down memory lane, sharing stories of high school escapades and university adventures. Each tale brought waves of laughter and shared understanding, deepening the connection that had always been there.

"Do you remember that time we tried to cook instant noodles in the dorm using the coffee maker?" Y/n giggled, recalling their disastrous attempt.

San grinned, shaking his head. "And we ended up setting off the fire alarm! Good times."

As the evening progressed, their laughter blended with the murmur of other diners, creating a bubble of warmth and companionship around them. Between bites of delicious food and sips of soju, they found themselves talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, a slight flush on her cheeks from the soju. "You know, San," she began, her words slightly slurred, "I've been thinking... I shouldn't have dated those terrible guys back then."

San raised an eyebrow, curious where this conversation was going. "What do you mean?"

Y/n sighed, looking into her glass before meeting his gaze. "I mean, you were always there to protect me. Like that last time, when my boyfriend cheated on me... You punched him for me, remember?"

San chuckled softly, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, I remember. He deserved it."

"You always made me feel safe, San," Y/n continued, her voice earnest. "And I think... I think I always knew deep down that I deserved better."

San's heart skipped a beat at her words. He had never wanted to see Y/n hurt, especially not by someone who didn't appreciate her the way she deserved.

"You do deserve better, Y/n," San said softly, his hand reaching across the table to gently touch hers. "You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are, who cherishes you every single day."

Y/n smiled warmly at him, her heart fluttering with his words, when suddenly a voice interrupted their moment.

"Hey, San! Fancy seeing you here," a chirpy voice exclaimed from behind them.

San and Y/n turned to see a girl from one of San's classes approaching their table. She had a bright smile plastered on her face, and her presence seemed to fill the space between San and Y/n.

"Hi... uh, Jia," San greeted, trying to remain polite but slightly caught off guard.

Jia ignored the slight awkwardness and turned to Y/n, giving her a quick once-over before saying, "Oh, you must be Y/n! San talks about you all the time."

Y/n forced a smile, feeling a tinge of discomfort. "Nice to meet you, Jia."

Jia took the seat next to San without waiting for an invitation, completely oblivious to the atmosphere between San and Y/n. "So, what are you guys up to tonight?"

San exchanged a quick glance with Y/n, silently communicating their desire to continue their private conversation. "Actually, Jia, we were just catching up. It's been a while since we've had a chance to hang out."

Jia's smile faltered slightly, but she pressed on. "Oh, that's cool! Mind if I join you then?"

Before San could respond, Y/n interjected, "Actually, Jia, we were just finishing up here. It was nice meeting you, but we should probably get going."

Jia looked disappointed but didn't seem to take the hint. "Oh, okay then. Well, maybe we can all hang out sometime soon!"

San shot Y/n an apologetic look before standing up. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see you around, Jia."

As they walked away from the table, Y/n let out a sigh of relief. "That was... unexpected."

San chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Sorry about that. Jia can be a bit... persistent."

Y/n nodded, but a nagging feeling tugged at her heart. "It's just... you never mentioned her before. Is she in your class often?"

San noticed the change in Y/n's tone and paused, realizing her discomfort. "Yeah, she's in a few of my classes. She's friendly and all, but we've never been close like that."

Y/n furrowed her brow slightly, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't quite articulate. "But she seemed really comfortable around you... sitting so close and all."

San glanced at Y/n, sensing her unease. "Y/n, I promise you, she's just a classmate. She's never been anything more than that."

The tension between them lingered as they walked through the quiet streets, the city lights casting soft shadows around them. Y/n bit her lip, trying to push away the unwelcome feelings of jealousy that were bubbling up inside her.

"I'm sorry," Y/n finally murmured, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean to... I guess I'm just not used to seeing you with other girls."

San nodded, understanding her feelings. "I get it, Y/n. You're important to me, and I don't want you feeling uncomfortable."

Y/n smiled gratefully, feeling reassured by his words. "Thank you, San. Let's continue this conversation at my place? We can have a few more drinks and just talk."

San nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Sure, that sounds good."

They walked the remaining distance to Y/n's apartment in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier easing with each step. The night air was cool and crisp, a welcome contrast to the warmth they felt between them.

As they entered Y/n's cozy apartment, San couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Y/n seemed lost in thought, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a quiet contemplation.

"Is everything alright, Y/n?" San asked gently, taking a seat on the couch.

Y/n hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I'm fine." But her voice lacked conviction.

San studied her for a moment, sensing her unease. "You seem... distracted. Is it about earlier?"

Y/n sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. "I guess I'm just confused. I didn't expect to feel jealous when Jia came over. It's not like me."

San nodded, understanding her turmoil. "It's okay to feel that way, Y/n. Sometimes emotions surprise us."

Y/n hesitated for a moment before asking, her voice hesitant, "San, why have I never seen you with a girlfriend before? Have you... never dated anyone?"

San met her gaze with a tender smile. "No, Y/n. I've never had a girlfriend. There's only ever been one person I've cared about deeply."

Y/n furrowed her brow slightly, trying to grasp the weight of his words. "Who?"

San took a deep breath, his heart beating a little faster. "You, Y/n. It's always been you."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, her breath catching in her throat. "Me?"

San nodded, his voice filled with sincerity. "Yes, you. Since we were kids, I've only ever had eyes for you."

Y/n felt a rush of emotions—surprise, joy, and a flicker of disbelief mingled together. "I... I never knew."

San reached out and gently took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I didn't want to risk our friendship by saying anything. But tonight, seeing you jealous over Jia... it made me realize I couldn't keep it to myself anymore."

Y/n searched his eyes, finding honesty and vulnerability mirrored back at her. "San, I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," San replied softly, his thumb brushing over her hand. "I just needed you to know how I feel."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Y/n's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but one truth stood out above all—the boy she had grown up with, the one who had always been there for her, was the one she had unknowingly longed for.

"San," she finally whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "I think... I think I feel the same way."

San's eyes widened in hopeful surprise, a smile spreading across his face. "You do?"

Y/n nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Yeah... I think I do."

Relief and joy washed over San's features, and he pulled her into a gentle embrace. "Y/n, you have no idea how happy you've made me."

They held each other, the warmth of their embrace melting away any remaining doubts or uncertainties. In that moment, they both knew that they were embarking on a new chapter—one filled with love, trust, and the promise of a future together.

As they sat together, basking in the glow of their newfound understanding, Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for the twists and turns that had brought them to this moment. It was a journey that had started in childhood innocence and had now blossomed into a love story that was just beginning to unfold.

-

taglist: @dinossaurz

[jen-with-a-pen]

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 1/2

summary: Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 1.3k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blood mention, knife mention, beer mention, Wade's fuckin horny and thirsty y'all, pining, cursing, claws, Wade is looking ✨respectively✨, crude humor and language, slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, no smut (yet, sorry)

a/n: AUGH DONT LOOK AT ME (actually please do I cannot hold this in any longer.) currently part one of two parts. posting the first one now as I am currently traveling for work and won't be back until beginning of September and then part two will be out when i either A. Get home or B. Finish it and format it in between running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Please be patient with me! I will not tolerate "whEreS PaRt Two?¿??" when I literally just told you. Hope y'all enjoy one of the many products of my brain rot. More to come in due time ✨

Not beta'd. Written on my phone and edited via gdocs. Post formatted on mobile because I don't wanna use my work computer lmao

Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

My AO3 | My Masterlist

Read this fic HERE on AO3

❤️ Reblogs and comments are appreciated, as always ❤️

PART ONE | PART TWO

The abs are great. More than great, actually. In fact, they're all Wade thinks, dreams, and fantasizes about. All day, everyday, non-fucking-stop. The moment replays over and over in his fucked up noodle brain like a scratched record. He knows muscle memory is a thing, but what about salivatory memory?

Christ. He's gotta get a grip instead of getting hard.

But what about when Logan isn't flexing hard enough to rip his goddamn suit off?

Wade notices Logan becoming more relaxed around the apartment as the days pass. Adjusting to his new life, coming out of the bedroom earlier than he has to on days when he gets a turn to sleep on a real bed. It's Sofa City most of the time– which he really doesn't mind, he almost prefers it most of the time (since it's in clear sight of the front door) but Wade more often than not likes to insist they share his 'much-too-big-for-lil-old-me' twin XL mattress that's seen more stains than sex in the last year alone.

Logan's compromise is he'll take the bed and Wade the couch half the time. Alone. They're still working on the negotiations of said compromise, but the jury– Blind Al– is still out on recess.

Once he's more settled in, Logan learns that it's okay to kick off his boots and put his feet up. It's not often, but enough that Wade silently wishes he'd rest those big meaty calves on his lap instead. He's been needing a new weighted blanket and Adamantium-coated tibias and hairy legs are so in right now.

Logan doesn't know it, but Wade secretly plays 'ohmygodhetotallylookedatme' whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wade oggling at him in his peripherals. Wade can't help it when Broody and the Beast's ribbed white muscle shirt pulls taut against those deliciously plump pecs that he silently prays it'll burst off again. Or he'll rip it off. Or Logan will rip it off. For him.

A boy can dream.

It's especially hard to win at 'OMGHTLAM' when Logan accessorizes– AKA throwing on whatever flannel is in rotation out of the several he finds at the thrift store a few blocks over. Wade feels his throat tighten like his jeans do when Logan wears the forest green one. Really brings out his eyes.

And smile. And lips. And–

It's still summer, so on the hotter days, when sweat glistens on his brow and Wade desperately wishes to be the back of Logan's hand, the tank top comes off. All Logan's sweaty, gloriously muscular body has on is a wonderfully worn-in pair of jeans with the hem of black briefs poking out behind the denim waist.

Do they have AC? Yes. Because Wade would have to plan a funeral for Al if they didn't.

But when she's out and about, he likes to turn it off and let the New York heat wave run its course. Sure, it leaves him sticky and gross, but he'd rather be sticky and gross and hard when he can help it.

Luckily, Blind Al is gone for the whole weekend. Some girls trip or a drug mule job. Same difference.

Hypothesis: If he (Wade) turns off the AC, then they (Wade and Logan) will have no choice but to strip naked and end up sticky and gross and hard together!

That's what he was taught in middle school, right?

With the push of a button and a sprinkle of patience, Logan is splayed out on the couch in a matter of hours with a lukewarm beer in hand while fighting his eyelids from dozing off to some random war documentary. Sweat beads on his temples and there's a slight sheen to his skin from his biceps to the lower V pointing down to between his thighs. He chuckles every so often, mumbling things to himself between swigs of beer and shaking his head when the narrator gets something 'wrong.'

Wade busies himself in the kitchen but his eyes are permanently glued to his roommate. He doesn’t miss the way Logan's stomach rises and falls gently, the rock-hard six pack softening into rolling hills of muscle with a layer of dark hair covering as much surface area as immortal-like hormones will allow. Grown out beard, chops, and messy hair really throw the whole look together; very 2000s, if you ask Wade. His pecs look just as soft as a pair of titties, if not softer, and Wade knows it. He'd do anything to lay his perfect little head on Logan's chest. Maybe lick it too, if he's a good boy. 

Logan perks up suddenly from the couch.

Oh God did he say that out loud?

"Wade?"

Wade doesn't hear him. Can't hear him. Half-refuses to hear him, honestly. Daydreaming takes up a whole lotta brain power and this show isn't running itself. Economy, budget cuts, unprecedented times. You know the shtick. 

"Wade."

Nothing but a bead of drool comes out of Wade's mouth. 

Suddenly, there's a crash right behind Wade's head and now he's awake. He whips around to the ale-spattered wall behind him and back to Logan, who's now standing with claws drawn and chest heaving.

Wade swears he's blushing. 

Eyes wide and brow standing up straight like his good little soldier, Wade looks down at the counter before him to find a bloodbath of a scene: one hand's on a knife while the other spews blood all over the yellowed counter tops; there's remnants of a carrot that was finished five minutes ago, followed directly by remnants of fingers cut down to the last fucking knuckle and slice marks beginning down the back of his hand.

Wade holds up his spurting stump, gashed artery doing a spot-on impression of Ol' fucking Faithful.

"Oh. Huh. Thought I smelled something," he says, staring at his now-tingling hand. Baby fingers for the rest of the night were so worth the staring contest with Logan's beautiful body.

"Fuckin' idiot," Logan mutters, sheathing his claws and striding over to the hall closet to grab a towel. Wade's already stopped bleeding, but just because they might be immune to bloodborne pathogens doesn't mean Al is.

"Gah– get back, damn mutt." Logan shoos Dogpool out of the kitchen to prevent her from lapping up her papa's bodily fluids. He throws the towel in Wade's face and goes to grab the bleach out of the cupboard under the sink. Logan learned very quickly where to find it the first time this happened a month or two ago.

"Sorry baby, Mommy's got a boo-boo and Daddy's just trying to help," Wade coos at Dogpool. "You're too good to me, peanut. Someone oughta wife ya up before I do."

Logan responds with a scowl as he tosses the carrots out and tries to keep the counter from staining. "Why th'fuck did you do that?"

"It was time for a new hand. Old one was so last season."

Wade mops up the blood from his arm and wraps the towel onto his head like he's just gotten out of the shower. Holding up his regenerating stump, he poses like a cover model for Vogue.

"Whatcha think, peanut?" He strikes another pose. "Is this doing anything for ya, big boy?"

Logan grunts as he tosses a wad of paper towels into the trash can. He turns to leave the kitchen, eyes flicking to Wade. It's the quickest once over ever, but Wade sees it. Commits it to memory while he pulls a Flashdance in a chair from the kitchen table and follows Logan's denim-clad ass as it sways off to the bathroom. 

"'M gonna go shower. Don't wait up,” Logan calls before shutting the door and locking it. 

Sighing, Wade looks down at his crotch, pants tent pitched higher and tighter than a first-timer on Everest.

Good thing he's ambidextrous.

[thir10th]

Soft Strands and Sweet Interruptions - October writing challenge day 2

summary: Emily is trying to tell you about her day, but you get distracted tw: a tiny mention to typical show violence at the beginning, no smut, this is so sweet it's literally just tooth rotting fluff a/n: i think i forgot to mention this, but i will be posting on alternate days, so instead of a fic a day, it’s going to be a fic every two days. Here’s the second one!! Happy 3rd of October! 💘

"I'm telling you" Emily stops mid-sentence to swallow a big bite of her spicy noodles before finishing her point "they don't even take it seriously anymore"

The containers lay empty all scattered over the coffee table, you sit with your legs crisscrossed on the couch in front of your girlfriend. After a whole day of work. she called you asking if you could come around, and only five minutes later you were at her door with takeout from her favorite chinese place, and asking what's wrong.

After the third spring roll and some noodles, her rambling had gotten lighter, and she was feeling better already.

"mh- and don't even get me started on today's training!" she says rolling her eyes and taking another bite"

"this young generations of agents think they can just shoot at whatever they want without consequences! They ignore my guiding, It’s like everything I said went in one ear and out the other.”

You nod, letting her vent "Mmhmm, sounds like a classic Prentiss-the-new-agents-trainer day.”

"Oh no! this is temporary, as soon as Morgan's arm is better, they're all his." She scoffs "I've been doing this- what? years? I remember i used to listen to my supervisory agent when i was training"

“I don’t even know how you deal with it.” you try comforting her, resting your hand on her lap, watching her and smiling softly.

Emily throws up her hands, hair falling into her face “I honestly don’t know either. By the end of the day, I just wanted to—” her words trail off as she looks down, clearly still worked up, but before she can continue, you gently reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear, taking her by surprise.

Truth is- you've always loved Emily's hair, more than you care to admit, always glowing, the dark almost black strands always falling over her face now that she's letting her bangs grow out.

She blinks, her expression softening in confusion "What are you doing?"

"Distracting you" you say, smiling as you continue to run your fingers through her hair, gently brushing it back.

Her voice softens as she looks at you “Well, it’s working.” she scoffs in surprise and a bit embarrassed.

Your fingers linger in her hair, and you lean in closer, your thumb brushing her cheek “Good.” You close the distance and kiss her softly, feeling her relax into you.

Emily sighs against your lips, clearly surprised but smiling “Wow, you’ve got great timing.”

You giggle softly, pulling back just a little “I have my moments.”

She grabs your face so softly with her hand, her thumb caressing your cheek. Still smiling, her rant forgotten, she rests her forehead against yours “You’re a very good distraction, you know that?”

You whisper, running your fingers through her hair again “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you’re this worked up.”

You peck her lips one more time, fast and sweet "it's not worth it my love, they'll learn when they learn, it's not your responsibility, and i don't like to see you so affected by it" you touch her nose with yours, the childish gesture makes her laugh

"and i'll keep distracting you if it means you'll relax this frown a bit" you touch the spot between her eyebrows, and she giggles.

She chuckles softly, eyes closing as she leans into you “I might just start ranting more often if this is the reward.”

You smile, still threading your fingers through her soft, dark hair. “I wouldn’t complain.” Your voice is gentle as you tilt your head, watching the way her expression has softened, the tension from the day finally melting away.

Emily hums, her eyes drifting shut, clearly savoring the feeling of your touch. “You know,” she murmurs, her voice quieter now, “you’re really good at this.”

“At what?” you ask, laughing softly.

“Calming me down. Just being here.” She opens her eyes again, her gaze full of warmth as she looks at you. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

You brush a few more strands of hair away from her face, your fingertips lingering against her skin. “You’d be fine,” you tease, though your heart flutters at her words. “But I’m happy to help, especially when it means I get to play with your hair. You know how much I love it.”

Emily smirks, but there’s a softness in her eyes that tells you how much she appreciates it. “You and my hair, huh? Guess I should let you mess with it more often.”

You grin, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. “I’m holding you to that.”

She laughs before she leans in again, pressing her lips to yours in a slower, sweeter kiss this time. When she pulls back, she tucks her head into the crook of your neck, wrapping her arms around you.

“Thanks for always knowing how to make things better,” she whispers. You feel so grateful to be her safety net, that she feels safe enough with you that she will share this things with you, letting her armor down every once in a while, so she doesn't have to carry it all herself.

You hold her close, your hand still gently running through her hair. “Always,” you promise, feeling her relax completely in your arms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There you go! I wanted to start slow for day 2, lmk what you think! Remember any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated

[satorusugurugurl]

Models

Pairing: Nude Model!Geto Suguru x Model!FAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,977

Warnings: Nudity, flirting, suggestiveness, fluffy goodness

A/N: This fluffy Friday idea had me giggling and kicking my legs. So intimate and sweet!! Nemsmkekdkdk!!

Nude life modeling.

It was easy, paid pretty well, and it helped you get money for essentials when your shitty part-time job didn't schedule you. All you were required to do was strip down to your birthday suit and pose for a bunch of art students to draw you. The sessions lasted between two to five hours, with breaks. Sitting around naked while posing was an easy way to make twenty dollars an hour.

After a rough week of hardly any tips at the coffee shop, you desperately needed to pick up a modeling gig for the weekend. You needed groceries, and you had been dying to buy the newest book of your favorite series that just came out. Luckily, an evening art class needed a female model. You jumped at the opportunity, not wanting to eat instant Ramen for the third time this week.

Trotting into the art studio, you found it empty, allowing you to change into a plain white robe before the students arrived. Just as you tied the sash around your waist, the door to the classroom opened. You turned around expecting to find the teacher, only to find the sexiest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

He had dark eyes and raven hair tied up into a bun. You could hear the music blaring through his headphones as he tossed his backpack onto the ground before pulling his shirt over his head. With a squeak, you covered your eyes as if you weren’t already in the nude yourself.

“E-excuse me!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, “Excuse me!! I-I’m in here!!” when you heard the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling, you grabbed a sketchbook off one of the desks, chucking it to the ground in front of his feet.

The man before you jolted, quickly pulling his headphones out. His dark eyes met you for the first time since he entered. “Oh shit!” He hid behind one of the canvases in the classroom. “Fuck! Sorry! Sorry!” You felt like your whole face was on fire.

“N-No, it’s okay! Maybe I have the wrong classroom!”

“Are you here to model for Yaga’s class?” the stranger asked tentatively.

“Uhm, yeah.”

“You're in the right place.”

Slowly blinking, you watched as the stranger peeked his head out from behind the canvas. “I am?” Your eyes wander toward the shirt and belt on the ground before him. “Then why are you—?”

The stranger stepped out in all his shirtless glory. Fuck he was hot, he had muscles for days. While you undressed the rest of him with your eyes, he stepped towards you. His fingers nervously played with his gauges as he stood in front of you, giving you a better view of his body. His muscles and the curves of his body would be perfect for any art student to sketch. If you were good with a pencil, you would have sketched a picture of him because it would be rude to pull your phone out and snap a photo of the insanely hot man in front of you.

“Yaga is going over body movement between two individuals. Like couples and stuff.” He gestured between the two of you. “That’s why I'm here. I guess Yaga failed to mention that in his ad today.” The strange brushed strands of his black hair out of his face. “The other model who was supposed to be doing this with me got food poisoning, so he was on a bit of a time crunch trying to find somebody to take her place.”

“Oh—” your fingers scratch your cheek, “right, okay, so I've always done solo work.”

The dark-haired man hummed in understanding. “Right, sorry he didn’t specify that in the ad. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I can let him know. If we have to cancel the class, that’s fine..” that was probably the best thing to do. But your stomach growled, hungry for something other than instant noodles.

“Ugh, no, it's fine, I’ll do it.” Why you agreed to do it was beyond you. Posing with a stranger, a hot one at that, was one of the craziest things you'd done. “Is it like back-to-back poses? Or are we talking cringe-worthy 90s family picture poses?”

The man before you chuckled as he shook his head, a dusty shade of rose spread over his cheeks. “That has to be one of the funniest things I've ever heard while modeling.” he glanced at the small wooden stage in the vented room. “It shouldn't be too crazy. Probably just us laying down or something.”

“Ah, very cool mystery man.”

“Oh right, sorry.” He held his hand out to you. “I’m Geto Suguru.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself before leaving the room to allow him to change. “Just come get me when you’re done.”

Once standing in the hall, you run your finger through your hair, tugging it gently. How did your simple modeling evening turn into an evening of modeling with the super hot guy? The more important question was how you were going to get through this entire evening being next to said hot stranger in the nude?!

Keep it together. You got this! You told yourself and attempted to ease your nerves. The following 3 to 4 hours would fly by fast, and then you would never see each other again. If you were lying on the floor next to each other? Naked. It wasn’t a super big deal. Just you and a stranger lying on the ground!

Two hours into the session, you stared directly into Geto’s eyes. “Geto,” you spoke softly, attempting not to distract the students around you.

“What’s up? Do you need a break?”

“No, I was just going to say I wish we were doing a 90s family photo pose. You know those kinds where you would sit on a stool, and I would awkwardly place my hands on one of your shoulders while we stare off into the distance?” Geto’s shoulders shook as he tried to contain his laughter.

You had to make fun of a situation like this. Where you were naked, straddling the hips of a nude man you didn't know, only having a thin cloth separating you from each other. It wasn't as awkward as you thought it would be. Thanks to Geto; he made it extremely comfortable for you. Asking for your consent before touching you, he often checked in to see how you were feeling. He was the perfect gentleman.

Geto also happens to be just your type. He was handsome, sweet, and had a killer body; you felt drunk off of his smell and touch. But would it be wrong to ask him out after doing a job together? You wanted to keep things strictly professional. Your stomach, unfortunately, didn’t get the same memo.

It grumbled helplessly, begging you to feed it something with value instead of instant noodles, protein bars, or candy. God, it was so loud you prayed Geto didn't hear it, that he was too focused on posing to notice your stomach’s begging pleas. You thought you might have been in the clear until Geto gently squeezed your hips, drawing your eyes towards him.

“Hungry?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“N-No.”

“Huh, because it sounds to me like you are.” You shift slightly as if moving would cause your stomach to growl at a softer volume. “W-Wait don—nngh.” Something thick and hard pressed firmly against your ass, making you squeak.

Geto groans, his fingers digging deeper into your hips, stopping you from moving any further. All you can do is stare at him. His eyes remain shut tight. Was he hard? Was he, this god-built man, popping a boner with you on top?

“Geto.” You whisper, a smile tugging at your mouth.

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, so you can bring up my stomach growling, but I can’t bring up you hard co-“

Eyes snap open as he shushes you. “I’m sorry, I just think you’re cute and funny. I tried thinking about my grandma naked, but my brain would rather think of how good you feel in my lap.” He breathes out a minty sigh.

His candor had you blushing as you gripped his shoulder. You remain still like that until your stomach grows louder this time. Geto sputters out a laugh as you push yourself back an inch, rolling against his cock, causing a moan to break in through his laughter.

“Fuck, please stop doing that, or I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? Didn’t see you as a pre-mature ejaculator.”

“I’m not—-normally.”

“Says the guy who just said he was gonna cum.”

Geto cocks a pierced brow at you. “I’m like the energizer bunny; I can go all night.” The room feels hot, and it’s not from the lights on you, and it’s not from constricting clothing. The classroom is unbearably hot because of the building tension between you two.

“I doubt that.” You confess in a whisper, rolling your eyes. “How long do you last? Two minutes tops?”

He scoffed gently, kneading your hips. “Is that a challenge?” The urge to kiss and take him up on his challenge eats at you like acid. You inch closer, lips nearly touching, when someone clears their throat behind you.

The sound of them clearing their throat reminds you that you are not alone. The both of you are in the middle of a classroom modeling for a bunch of students. Students that can clearly see and possibly hear the conversation you two are having.

“Later.”

That single word puts a pin in your whole conversation. Geto’s erection goes down while your stomach continues to growl, winning the softest of chuckles from the man you're still straddling. Somehow, by the grace of the gods, you manage to make it through the entire class without your stomach eating itself or grinding down on Geto, much to your amazement.

With the class over, Geto lets you change in the main room while he uses the supply closet. You finish before him, grabbing your things, eyes darting towards the closet. How does one ask out a fellow nude model? Was it just the heat of the moment that had you hungry for his touch? Or was there something truly there between you?

The never-ending questions stopped as Geto stepped out, pushing his hair back, eyes scanning the room. The instant they find you, he’s crossing the floor faster, his backpack slung over his shoulder. There was something in his smile that made you weak in the knees.

“Do you like soba noodles?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your stomach growls in agreement.

A smile so smooth it gives the butter a run for its money graces Suguru’s face. “Let me take you out for dinner and a drink,” he starts heading for the door, “before that stomach gremlin decides to eat me instead of food.” Heart racing, you grab your things, joining his side, hands clasped behind your back.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Geto, but the chances of me eating you after dinner are high.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes, I'd say there is a ninety-five percent chance you’re on the menu for dessert if you want to come back to my apartment.”

“Funny, I was going to say there’s a ninety-eight percent chance I was going to eat you for dessert~”

Glancing up, you nearly stumble as Geto sticks his pierced tongue out. “Then maybe I’ll accept your challenge and prove I can last longer than two minutes.”

You smirk, licking your lips with a starved expression. “Show me what you got from the energizer bunny.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

That's Not Your Food, Woo

Summary: bf!Wooyoung is known for stealing your food, but this time he got caught Notes: pure fluff as I'm in my Woo era again 😩 1028 words (how tf did I write two woo fics with the same amount of words???)

A gasp resounded in the room, silence following quickly after. You stood at the entrance of the kitchen, staring directly at the man sitting at the island bar, his form hunched over. Even with his back facing you, you knew what he was doing. The aroma of your favorite snack filled the air.

"It's not what it looks like," Wooyoung mumbles through a mouth full of food, quickly shoving the container behind a roll of paper towels.

You threw your bag on the marble counter, rounding to the other side to catch him in the act. "It's exactly what it looks like!" You pointed an accusatory finger towards him. "You're eating my ramen!"

He wiped his mouth to hide the evidence. "Baby, let me explain-"

You shook your head. "There are no words to defend yourself. I see the seasoning packet by your hands. You can't lie to me."

Wooyoung glanced to his side, finally noticing the torn packet you mentioned and reaching to crumble it in his hand. "I was going to replace it," he confesses, sparing at glance your way. "I swear."

Sighing heavily, you leaned against the counter with both arms. "I should have never given you the key to my apartment."

The love of your life could only sit there, guilty. There he was, eating the last container of your favorite ramen noodles, when that's what you were craving all day. You were devastated to say the least. He had been gone for a few weeks on tour, only to come back and eat your food while you worked.

Wooyoung couldn't help the small smile that grew on his lips as he watched you. Slowly, he stood up to walk around the counter, coming up behind you to give you a massage as an apology. "Hey, I can go to the store and grab some more. Alright? I'm sorry, my love."

You tried to hold the serious and upset facade, but his massage was breaking your composure. "You promised you'd pick up my favorite chips before you left for Japan a month ago and I'm still waiting on those."

He giggled lightly, resting his chin on your shoulder to press his nose to your cheek, giving it a peck. "Okay fine, I'm guilty of not replacing your foods right away. But I'm on break for awhile before our next tour stop. Lemme make it up to you."

You turned to glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "By doing what?"

He smirked, reaching his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. "Oh, I can think of a few things."

Yanking yourself free from his tight grasp, you immediately put distance between you two and pointed a finger at him once again. "No! None of that mushy gushy nonsense. You owe me food! Love doesn't put food on the table, Jung Wooyoung."

His laughter bubbled out of him, watching you move further back with each step closer he took. "That's okay, I have money for the food. I can always go to the store, but right now? I need to make you forgive me."

You tried hard to fight a smile as you found yourself backed into the pantry door, raising your arms as if to stop the man from getting to you. "You know, I've decided you've repented enough. N-no need to repay me anymore. I forgive you."

"How noble," he bemused, suddenly in front of you. His hands grabbed your own, pushing them out of the way as he moved forward, now only inches away.

You started to giggle as he leaned into your face, a huge grin on his face mirroring your own. You attempted to push him away but with as little force as possible. He stood absolutely still against your tries, still inching closer instead. You were cornered with nowhere to run.

You shrunk against the pantry, turning your head to the side as you prepared for a kiss attack. You've suffered from the wet, forceful kisses many of times to know what you were in for. Your hands were trapped beneath his own. What you didn't expect was for him to release one arm, his hand reaching up to grip your chin to turn you enough so you looked at him again.

The mood suddenly shifted with that one movement. His gaze landed on your lips, far more sultry than you anticipated. Your breathing became haggard as you watched him watching you. It was silent aside from your heart beating uncontrollably loud.

"I've missed you," he whispered lowly, a bit of sadness flashing across his eyes briefly.

You hadn't the chance to respond. He immediately pressed his lips against your own, kissing you deeply. Shifting so you were comfortable, he released your other hand to grip your waist and pull you against him. You sighed against his lips, feeling the sweetness in the kiss you missed so dearly. It was all you needed to succumb to him.

He changed directions, dipping his hand passed your ear and into your hair, gripping the back of your neck so you pushed even further into the kiss. The kisses were long and drawn out, soft noises filling your ears. You wanted nothing more than to continue feeling his soft lips, bringing you absolute comfort and sense of security. Your eyes were clenched tightly shut as you tried to enjoy every second of his affection.

When he pulled back, that mischievous smirk was back. "Am I forgiven?"

You barely had enough breath in you to counter his comment. "Fine," you bit, rolling your eyes.

He chuckled at your reluctancy, wrapping his arms tightly around your shoulders and squeezing you. "I love you." You hummed a response as he nuzzled his head on the side of yours. "Say it back."

"I love you too," you mumbled.

You could tell he was enjoying every second of that torture. You finally wrapped your arms around him as well, giving him a firm squeeze. The feeling of his warm cheek pressed against your own made you sigh in comfort and delight. The light of your life was in your arms once again, right where he belonged.

[gavisfanta]

NAPLES - GAVI

summary: you and gavi go to the stadium to watch the game together.

warning: not proofread cause I'm about to fall asleep

"This is insane" You smiled as you looked outside the car window. You were just driving into the parking lot of the stadium. There were still three hours to go until the game started and there were already fans outside, singing or rather shouting barca chants.

"I don't know, it's kinda sad that we act like it's a final." Gavi mumbled and pulled intk the underground garage. You hit his arm which was on the gear stick and then gave him an annoyed look.

"Hey! What was that for?" Gavi turned off the car and moved in his seat so that he was facing you.

"You're being so mean, be happy that people come to support the team." You turned your head away from him but felt Gavi laugh.

His fingers mkved to your chin and then made you look at himself. His eyes flashed between your eyes and your lips as he then pulled you into a passionate kiss.

"See? All good." The smile couldn't have been wiped off his face by anything. You tried so hard to resist not to smile but failed in the end. Slamming the car door shut you made your way over to Gavi who stood still to wait for you.

"Amor, you're right, I'm sorry." Gavi told you again while interlocking his fingers with yours.

"It's okay, dont worry." The reassuring smile on your face calmed him down and then the two of you went to the launch over the stands.

Just about half an hour later the players started arriving and so did Taia, Raphinhas wife.

She met you at the lounge first while Gavi went down into the locker room with the rest of the players.

When it was finally time for the players to start warming up, you made your way back to the seats behind the bench where Gavi, Pedri and Ferran were already sitting.

Pedri noticed you coming down the stairs already and stood up immediately.

He greeted you with a hug and then you two sat back down on either side of Gavi.

"It's funny how our company is always changing no?" Gavi turned to face you and a small smile was visible on your lips while you looked at Pedri's confused face.

"Yeah, last time it was João and Vitor, now its you and Ferran." You leaned a bit closer to the two after fixing your jacket.

"You two are assholes, I thought him alone was bad, but now you too?" Pedri said with a smile, his finger pointing between the two of you.

"Why is everyone always hating on us?" Gavi turned to you and while he did that Pedri pulled up the hood from Gavi's jacket and giggled as Gavi turned around to give him a nasty look.

"I have no idea." You shrugged your shoulders while shrugging your head. He put his hand kn your tigh while he watched the others warm up and automatically your hand rolled up his jacket and hoodie and started moving your fingers up and down on the veins on his arm.

Gavi was used to it at this point and only noticed by the cold air hitting his exposed arm.

"Are you trying to get him a cold? I'm in." Pedri leaned forward while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"No," You mumbled and Gavi sighed deeply, annoyed that he's gonna have to say it again instead of you.

"She says that I've got attractive arms. I know, João said the same, but listen, look at her. She eats Paella with noodles because 'it tastes better'." Gavi explained to Pedri who just laughed out loud.

"My cousin is saying that the whole time too. I don't get it." Pedri shruggdd his shoulders and you pulled the jacket back to his hand.

"Why did you stop?" Gavi immediately looked at you. He hated to admit it but he liked it.

"You for sure were cold." A light shrug was the only thing seen from you and Gavi pushed a strand of hair out of your face and then pulled the hood of your jacket up a bit further so that your ears wouldn't be exposed fully.

The whole time he did that, you looked at him with an admiring look which could be seen on tv.

As soon as the game began the stadium was going crazy. You've never hesrd Montjuic this loud before and you've been to quite some games.

"That was everything but a penalty." Gavi whispered to himself after a Napoli forward fell inside the bkx and asked for a penalty.

"Eh, I don't know." You sunk deeper into the seat becahse you were a bit cold. Your boyfriend noticed and then put his hand onto your tigh again, hs started rubbing it up and down until eventually you felt a bit of warmth flooding your body.

You didn't really realize it that often but he often touched you, no, he was always toching you somehow. His love language is physical touch after all.

Then in the secknd half-time after Lewandowski sckred the fourth goal for Barcelona, Gavi leaned closer to you.

"Cancelo just lost a hundred euros." His fingers covered his mouth while you gave him a confused look.

"Why?"

"He made bet that if Felix would sckre in front of him he'd give him one hundred euros." Gavi explained and you shook your head while you smiled. The stadium was still loud, even if Lewandowskis goal was a few minutes ago.

However, the noise didn't even compare to the end of the game when Barcelona won 4-2 on aggregate.

Gavi, Pedri and you celebrated by clapping your hands and Gavi went down into the tunnel with the other boys to celebrate the win.

Meanwhile Taia drove you home. So you got ready for bed but decided on waiting for Gavi to get home.

Around 11:30 he walked into the bedroom with a big smile on his face. "Hola Amor" He walked over to his wardrobe and started changing. "I hope Porto wins, Porto is easier than Arsenal." He turned around to face you while he changed into some shorts and took off his shirt.

"No matter who wins, we'll do amazing. Its the first time in two years that were pmaying in the last 8 of the champions league. You already won it all." You praised him while he got under the covers after he turned off the light.

"I already won it all to have you." A cheeky smile covering his lips as your face heated up and your cheeks turned red.

"Stop" You tried to cover up your mouth but he then pued you into a kiss which you didn't say no to.

"Don't cover up your smile, it's beautiful." Your stomach cramped as soon as the words left his mouth. Then he gave you one last kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight amor."

[legomonkiefics]

Hi, I would like to request Mk with a fem! Reader who is mean for him. This guy is TOO sweet he really needs a partner that can yell at people for him. How about a short fic? (It's been a minute since I've requested anything from anyone)

-🐙

💛🍜 Defending the Successor — MK x Fem Reader Drabble 🍜💛

Genres: Fluff, Romance || she/her pronouns for reader, he/they pronouns for MK || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

It wasn't often that you got to do deliveries with MK, as he always seemed to jump around so much, and you had responsibilities of your own. But Pigsy tended to insist. He knew how easily distracted his son was, and you seemed to ground them. One day your schedule was clear enough to finally agree.

MK was happily chatting to you as he drove the noodle cart, the two of you making it to one of the few stops they had left for this shift. "And theennn Monkey King showed me all the stuff he's collected! He's got so much junk, but it's all really shiney". You chuckled as you nodded "Eyes on the road, hun" you reminded. "Right," MK said, pulling up to a stop a few feet from the house. He got out first, scrambling to open the cart door for you. You gave him an appreciative smile as you took their offered hand to get out. He held your hand tightly, his other hand carrying the delivery bag. "So, yeah! That's basically how my first week with Monkey King went" he wrapped up, before knocking on the door. A very unimpressed man opened it from the other side.

"Finally, you're here" the customer drawled irritably. MK raised an eyebrow, tilting their head a little "Oh- yeah, traffic was kinda bad today. But I made it within the time!" They replied, holding out the bag. The customer frowned, snatching the bag out of his hands. "This better be good then" he grumbled, opening up the box. After letting him look through it for a bit, MK spoke to the customer. "Soooo anyways, that'll be-"

"I'm not paying for this" the customer interrupted. MK blinked. "Uh... I don't know what to tell ya, guy, but you gotta pay for the food". "It's practically late, I'm not paying for you to be able to slack off" the man replied. MK wilted a tad. They knew they had a problem with being off task, but by his standards he'd been doing better recently. "Well, I still gave it to you, so". The customer scoffed. "Then go tell your boss you didn't do it fast enough" he said, attempting to close the door then and there. Before he could, he felt something stopping it. He looked down, seeing your shoe holding his door from closing.

"I think you owe him something" you said firmly. The customer rolled their eyes "I'm not-". "I'm not asking" you cut off. "He worked hard to come here and deliver this to you. He did it as on time as he could, and there's not a thing wrong with the meal". You nudged the door open, giving the customer a hard stare "so pay up". The man groaned, but pulled out a fistful of money from his pocket and held it out. You took it from him, before handing it to MK. "Enjoy your meal" you said flatly before closing the door on him. Once that was done, you sighed, relaxing again as you stood beside MK. "You didn't have to do that" the successor said with a small chuckle, walking with you back to the cart.

"You shouldn't let people walk over you like that, hon" you said to him, taking his hand like they'd done earlier "I know you like being the happy-go-lucky hero, but sometimes you gotta be a bit tougher than that. You deserve better". MK gave a small smile before nodding. He brushed his hair back with his free hand and said dramatically, "Would you like me more if I was a rebel, then? A real bad guy with a even worse attitude?". You chuckled, pecking his cheek so his faux serious expression melted away "I like you as how you are, MK. You're very sweet. But don't let that mean you get trampled on". "Got it" MK replied determinedly as they opened the door for you once more.

After you got in, MK gave you a cheek kiss "Thank you, though. For helping out back there". "It's no problem" you replied, ruffling his hair. He smiled and turned on the tunes to the radio, cranking up the volume for you two as you began heading off to the next stop as the sun started setting

[alphabetboyluvr]

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.  

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics &lt;3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered. 

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs. 

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it. 

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour. 

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all��women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him. 

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve. 

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it. 

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet. 

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now. 

It's how it usually goes. 

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much. 

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong. 

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet. 

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage. 

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him. 

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan. 

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details. 

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down. 

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish. 

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all. 

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later. 

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless. 

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this. 

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously. 

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun. 

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight. 

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear. 

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate. 

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties. 

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks. 

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy. 

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation. 

"Do you want me to?" 

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it. 

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him. 

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score. 

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation. 

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer. 

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival. 

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other. 

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

[lovemyself97]

✦𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓮 ✦ JJK

Summary: You forgot your wallet and that was a good thing. Saved by a small kind gesture from a stranger, but perhaps not so strange. Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x foreign! female reader. Genre: Fluff Warnings: none (Thoughts are in italics) Author: You can read part 2 here , I hope you like it; There's a short playlist for a better reading experience :) Words: 643

Argh, why Lily?

It was 11 p.m. when I looked at the clock on the gray wall, my dear friend, Lily, a Korean woman I've known since I moved to Seoul, convinced me that she deserved a pot of very spicy ramen for her well-deserved promotion at work... the question is:

1-I forgot my wallet,

2-I was threatened with not being able to enter the apartment without the noodles

3-And now a lady was looking at me visibly annoyed.

'Look, I've always paid you on time and...'

'I don't do cash on delivery,' she muttered to end the conversation. Before I could reply again, a packet of snacks and two cartons of banana milk and the money were placed on the counter and only now I realized that we weren't the only ones there.

A young man was wearing a black mask, dressed head to toe in black, holding a helmet in one hand and looking impatient.

'Pass this and the lady's ramen, please,' he said, incredibly politely, making me let out the breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. The lady looked speechless for a moment but just nodded and quickly packed up the items.

Before I could thank him, he quickly left, leaving me alone with that lady, 'I'm never coming back here again' I thought as I tried to catch up with the boy.

'Wait.'

The young man, who was already leaving when I reached him, frowned when he looked at me and something glinted in the reflection of the light. I noticed that he had an eyebrow piercing, but something else caught my eye and left me breathless. He had tattoos on one of his hands, which were very familiar to me… As soon as I looked up, he realized that I recognized him, Jeon Jungkook…

I had always been a fan of Jungkook, admiring his powerful voice and his talent on stage. I never imagined I'd have the chance to meet him like this, so casually, and he probably didn't want to deal with a hysterical fan right now, so I took a deep breath and spoke calmly:

'I wanted to say thank you, thank you so much for helping me and if you could just wait a little while until I pick up-'

'No need to thank me,' he said, his expression softening a little. 'I was just in a hurry and thought I could help.' His voice came out low and muffled because of his helmet, he rummaged through the grocery bag he had just made and handed me one of the cartons of banana milk. 'Just be careful on your way home, it's late.'

I couldn't even open the carton of banana milk he gave me. Instead, I kept it carefully, as a special souvenir of that unexpected encounter.

'Do you always come here?' I asked a little awkwardly, but I couldn't help but be curious and wanted the moment to last a little longer, to which he just winked at me before speeding off on his motorcycle and driving away through the empty streets of Seoul.

I looked around as soon as he was out of sight, feeling a silly grin form on my face, did that really happen?, followed by several shrieks but I soon felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, I'm not even dressed up!, I quickly looked at the nearest reflection, a puddle of water, but something else caught my eye, it looked like a wallet, I wonder whose it was?, and my eyes widened as I realized whose it could be.

It seems that he had forgotten his wallet... I went home thinking about how I would return it to its owner and thinking that maybe I would go to that convenience store more often.

I had no idea I'd run into him again sooner than I thought.

[Don't be a silent reader, let me know what you think 💗]

Do not copy. Original work of @lovemyself97 , 2/10/2024 (reblogging always helps! )