#to me. it just. doesn’t appeal in the slightest. idk i feel like his voice implies his older age at the very least

[giddlygoat]

idk man where’s all the fat wrinkly short narrators. please just show me the old man narrators. im not talking middle aged. he must look at the very least 62. crusty dusty old with joint problems and a hairline on its last gasps. please god im begging i just need to see some more fat old guy narrator designs

[ggukbabyy]

bro... idk about the whole plot of the drabble but it definitely should have some sexual tension going on but i'm not talking about a quick tension, you know... it could take hours or days idk i feel like you would kill it

“No, never,” you comment with a small shake of your head. Taehyung looks indignant.

“Everyone has done something outside of the bedroom at some point.”

You simply shake your head. “Not me.” Your eyes flick to Jeongguk briefly, his gaze drilling holes into the side of your face. He leans forward, forearms resting on the table.

“You’ve never needed someone so badly you couldn’t wait?” His voice is deep and husky, a hidden implication giving his words weight. You hold his gaze.

“The waiting is the fun part.” The corner of his mouth forms a faint smirk.

“That’s where we’ll have to disagree,” he replies, holding your eyes as he takes a long pull from his drink. Everyone breaks off into different conversations, the intrigue of your reluctance to perform sexual acts in a public space no longer the most interesting thing to discuss. Jeongguk appears to be the only one not ready to let it go.

You sit opposite him in the pub, enough people occupying the space that the din of background conversation makes it hard for others to hear as Jeongguk leans across the table once again.

“Do you really believe that? About waiting?” You’re not quite sure why he’s so interested but you entertain his line of questioning.

“100 percent,” you reply without hesitation and Jeongguk nods slowly as he considers your answer.

“You don’t think the desperation to have someone near you, in you, there and then is fun? How is that not better than waiting?” His eyebrows are drawn together in skepticism. He can’t for the life of him understand how you could enjoy waiting. It’s disheartening to hear when he’s spent the better part of the night trying to figure out a plan that would get you to follow him into the toilets. You’ve been acquaintances for about 4 months and he’s spent an embarrassingly large proportion of his time in your company thinking of all the different ways he’d like to spend his time with you if he could get you alone. And not for one second would he want to wait.

“I enjoy the anticipation,” you begin, moving to mirror his position. Jeongguk gets a wonderful eyeful of cleavage and he takes his time appreciating it.

“Wanting it so desperately and knowing you can’t have it now makes it all the better when it does happen.” For most of the sentence Jeongguk is picturing his dick between your tits so he only half hears what you say.

“Anticipation doesn’t change shit,” replies Jeongguk, leaning slightly closer. A small smile plays across your face, head tilted to the side slightly.

“It’s my favourite,” your voice has turned sultry, the alcohol muddling Jeongguk’s brain preventing him from noticing the change immediately. “The person is so close and not close enough, almost touching where you want and you could scream in frustration because two centimeters to the left and it would feel so fucking good, but they make you wait,” your voice is soft and captivating; even with everything happening around Jeongguk you’re the only one he can hear. His whole body feels jittery yet he’s glued to the spot, his chest beginning to rise and fall just a little deeper as you draw the perfect picture for him. “And wait some more, until I could cry, until I’m begging for the slightest touch or kiss in just the right place, so desperate and needy.” The switch from describing a situation to talking about yourself doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeongguk. In fact, it makes the room seem a little hotter, his pants feel a little tighter, his brain seems a little more clouded as he tries to focus on anything but the sounds you’d make as you beg or the words you’d say to get what you wanted from him. Saliva pools in his mouth at the thought of you spread below him close to tears with desperation. Your eyes are alive and wild yet the rest of your face is the picture of innocence and he’s not sure how much more he can take. You’re inching closer to his face across the table as you speak.

“But you don’t like waiting, do you Jeongguk?” You ask and he can faintly feel the warmth of your breath against his lips from this distance. He swallows thickly.

“You don’t want to keep me waiting, don’t like the idea of making me beg for it? For you?” You add on innocently, eyebrows raised as though you’d asked a perfectly simple, appropriate question. Jeongguk can barely form a coherent sentence with his head so full of everything you’ve just said. You stay there leaning on the table for a few more seconds, Jeongguk’s eyes flicking down to your lips, the air around you both suffocating and heavy. You grin widely before leaning back into your chair triumphantly. Jeongguk’s eyes are clouded with arousal, not trying to hide where your words have taken him and his reluctance to return to the real world. By the time he does you’ve moved on to a conversation with Jimin, giggling at his shit jokes. You don’t look Jeongguk’s way once for the rest of the night and it drives him insane.

-----

Two weeks later and you’re at Jimin’s place for a barbecue with a friend. Only Jimin’s housemates are Yoongi and Jeongguk, and no one told Jeongguk you were coming over. Ever since the night at the pub, Jeongguk has fantasised about you more than he would care to admit - even to himself. More than a few times his hand wandered south with pictures of you flashing behind his eyelids, replaying the conversation you’d had over and over, vividly picturing you doing the things you’d described. So when he walks out of the patio doors into the garden to see you laid across a towel on the floor, the smallest bikini he has ever witnessed wrapped around your body, to describe his feelings as shocked is a gross understatement. From his vantage point he can watch you while you remain none the wiser, so he takes the precious time to appreciate everything that you are. Your legs go on for miles and are toned to perfection, your tits fill out your bikini with some left to spill over the side and yearning burns deep in his stomach to have his lips against the smooth flesh, dragging his tongue leisurely across your nipple. Images of you begging for him flash violently across his mind, and he’s itching to return to his bedroom for a few minutes. But then you turn over and notice him, a lazy grin creeping slowly across your mouth.

“Can I help you?” You ask innocently, eyes dancing with amusement at having caught Jeongguk staring. He saunters over to you, arms braced behind him as he sits down.

“You’re in my garden, I should be asking you that question.” Your eyes are glued on the way his biceps tense to support his weight. It should be illegal for Jeongguk to walk around shirtless, even if it is the height of summer. For the sake of your own sanity he should walk around in a full wetsuit - but you’re sure he’d manage to make that look sexy. His broad chest is on full display, the golden skin pulled taut against the toned muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes continue their journey down his stomach, thoughts swirling at the dusting of hair beneath his belly button, following it down until it disappears beneath his shorts.

“Are you nearly done?” Amusement drips from his words as you pull your eyes from their pleasant detour. You fight desperately to keep the heat from your face.

“Almost.” Jeongguk’s tongue pokes the side of his cheek at your answer. He’s used to girls fawning over him, melting into a puddle of shy giggles and doting compliments. Not this. The idea of having you begging beneath him becomes more and more appealing the more you demonstrate all the ways you need to be taught a lesson.

Both of you bask in the heat of the sun in silence, music drifting out from the kitchen, Yoongi’s contagious laughter bringing a smile to your face. Surreptitiously you peek one eye open, looking sideways at Jeongguk. The perfect definition of his jaw is showcased with the way his head is tilted towards the sun, little beads of sweat developing at his temples and clinging to the nape of his neck.

“You should really put suncream on,” you state, shutting your eye before he can catch you again.

“Are you offering?” His tone is bored but excitement thrills through his chest.

“Not really.” Jeongguk fights the smile threatening to reveal itself.

“If I end up burning, it'll be all your fault,” Jeongguk complains, and when you say nothing in return, his arms buckle under his weight dramatically, his back thudding against the grass.

“I can feel the blisters forming already,” he groans, rocking side to side. You suppress chuckles as you watch his performance.

“Unngh,” he groans, turning his head to look at you, a fake pained expression pulling against his features. “I need you to put suncream on me,” he whines, “please.” His lips jut into a pout.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” you reply with an eye roll, Jeongguk all but ignoring it as a delighted grin lights up his face.

While you grab the cream, Jeongguk arranges himself into his original position, a satisfied smile gracing his plump lips as he basks in both his small victory and the heat of the sun. His smile vanishes, eyes snapping open, when he feels the cool of a shadow passing across him only to be faced with you straddling his lap. Your expression is the picture of innocence, eyes wide, head tilted, soft lips slightly parted as you hold to bottle of cream in one hand expectantly, but a flicker of wickedness flashes across your eyes, there one second and gone so quickly Jeongguk could almost convince himself that you’re clueless to the effect your close proximity has on him. But the way your back arches into him gives you away.

Jeongguk hisses a breath through his teeth at the first contact of the suncream against his warm skin and you giggle. There’s no hint of amusement on his face. Having you so close and yet unable to touch you has his mind reeling and frustration bubbling like acid in the pit of his stomach. You smell incredible, sweet and floral, and your hands are delicate as they roam his chest and stomach, eyes completely focused on the task at hand. He sighs deeply as he lets himself become lost in the way you touch him, the way your hands rove confidently, traversing low enough to have him forcing down the urge to buck his hips against you.

Nothing in the world is going to pull your gaze from the path your hands trace against Jeongguk’s skin. From his broad shoulders and collarbones you would be happy to drag your tongue across, to your palm grazing his nipple, noting the muscle in his jaw jumping at the contact. Down, down, down his stomach as low as his shorts allow, over his hips and waist. All amusement has vanished as your fingers explore. Jeongguk’s breathing is deep as you toy with the waistband of his shorts, slipping the tip of your finger just underneath. He’s watching you like a hawk, nostrils flaring as he wills you to just reach down, give him the look so he can take you upstairs and show you there’s no fun in waiting. Instead you raise your eyes to his and breathe out, “I need to do your arms.”

He shifts his weight forward, one arm held out for you, the other sliding around your body, hand resting gently on your arse. Raising your eyebrows questioningly at the placement, Jeongguk simply shrugs, a devilish smile flashing at you.

“What’s the matter, darling?” His deep voice questions. You forego a reply, squeezing cream directly onto his arm. He watches your face with delight as you continue.

“Turn around so I can do your back,” your voice is barely above a whisper. Having him so close for so long is starting to prove difficult. You can’t get your thoughts away from his hands, how strong and big they are in your own, how they’d wrap perfectly around your neck or how easy it would be for Jeongguk to prod and massage your g-spot until you were exhausted from overstimulation. It hasn’t slipped your notice that he’s been getting progressively harder beneath you, every inch of him pushing against your core. It’s getting hard to breathe, hard to look him in the eye - he relishes every second of your struggle with a cocky grin. His eyes are heavy and clouded with arousal and he drags his gaze leisurely down your body and back again.

“I’m sure you can reach from here, darling.” The determined look in your eye has Jeongguk chuckling. The action of reaching your hands over his shoulders and down his back has your chest pushing into his face and a small groan rumbles in Jeongguk’s throat. Your stomach burns with desire at the sound, a desperate need to hear the sound over and over, louder and then whispered into your ear, claws mercilessly at your insides, threatening to suffocate you. Without thinking you push your hips down in an effort to garner some friction against your swollen clit. The manoeuver doesn’t go unnoticed.

Jeongguk’s mind is blank. Your arse is pushing back into his palms, his fingers massaging the supple flesh delicately. With your tits so close to his face he determines it would be criminal if he doesn’t lean forward just a little more. His hair tickles your cheek as he moves, his nose brushing your chest as he gets closer. He flattens his tongue against the swell of your breast, licking a stripe against your glowing skin before sinking his teeth into you. A small gasp escapes your lips, hips rutting against him of their own accord. He groans again, using his hands to push you into him harder, desperation and frustration intermingling at the clothing separating your pussy from his bare skin. He pulls back to look up at you, the muscles of his jaw jumping as he restrains himself. Your lips are so close, both of your chests rising and falling rapidly, each waiting to see what the other will do, the atmosphere suffocating as the tension rises. Jeongguk’s gaze is intense and his eyes flick briefly down to your lips, his intentions and desires clear.

“Come to my room.” His voice is gravelly and shoots heat directly to where you need his touch the most. “Let me touch you, make you feel so good, princess.”

“We can’t,” you whisper back, lacking conviction.

“Why not?” Whines Jeongguk.

“Everyone will see and they’ll know.” It’s a feeble excuse and your resolve to stick with it is crumbling quickly.

“I’ll happily fuck you out here if that’s what you’d prefer.” Your cheeks flame at the idea. “It would be easy,” he continues, mind so consumed with you and his need to have you as close as possible. His fingers skim the apex of your thigh, toying with the edge of your bikini. “I’d just have to pull this to the side and then I’d see your pretty pussy, but I bet you have a tight cunt, couldn’t take my cock all at once.” Your core clenches reflexively at his words and you know you’re absolutely fucked.

“Come to my room,” he states, moving your hips over his with his hands. You smile devilishly, leaning forward until your lips almost brush.

“I’m sure you can wait a little bit longer.”

an; so i clearly don't know the meaning of the word drabble and you said i'd kill it so the perfectionism took over and i couldn't stop until i thought it was good

[binniesthighs]

1-800-Be-Mine | reader x minho | sfw

happy valentines day!! this lil fic of mine is something very new and different from what I’ve tried before and I’m so so excited to share it with you!!

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho

Genre: fluff, sci-fi, futuristic au, valentines day special! 

Tags: strangers to lovers, sci-fi au, futuristic au, blind date au, AI au with a twist, mentions of food and alcohol, featuring hyunjin, tiny heart-shaped confetti of comedy and rebelling against the man lol, fluffy growing feelings 

Warnings: Minho’s character in this is an adorable, charming, feeling, AI robot. haha idk if this is a warning but it might not be everyone’s cup o’ tea, if so, that’s why I’m mentioning it :) 

Tagging: @stayhavens​ thank you for allowing me to be a part of this event ❤️

Word count: 7.1k 

“If it’s the color of your shirt that you’re worried about, I don’t think that he’s gonna care.” 

“--I can’t believe that you’re putting me through this. I didn’t even ask for...whatever the hell this all is.” 

“You’re getting worked up over nothing, Y/n. This whole thing is literally the lowest commitment thing that you could ever do on Valentines Day.” 

For the twentieth time, you held up the shirt and hanger over your torso in front of you streak-stained mirror. It shouldn’t have mattered much, or even at all, but here you were, wondering what color a synthetic human would like on your body the most. 

With feet in the air, your best friend swung his feet with pointed toes and eyes glued to his phone. 

“Quit looking at me like that.” Hyunjin didn’t even need to rise his head up to feel your glare. “He’s programmed to forget about you the second that your time runs out, so, I really don’t know why you’re wasting your time over this.” 

One more time, you switched the creamy white satin for the wine-red velvet. 

“God, this is so depressing.” The shirt hangers clinked together where you threw them down on your bed. “It’s all your fault too.” 

“I can’t see why you aren’t excited for this!! I literally made it so he’s perfect for you. There’s like, a 0% chance that this is gonna go badly. You could spit escargot into his lap or get his tie stuck in the car door and he’d still think that you’re the best thing ever. You can do no wrong.” 

“That’s the point...” 

The floor started to look a lot more appealing in your despair. If you were making a dramatic show for yourself or for you friend, you had no idea, but somehow it felt a little better letting your body sliiide down the side of the wall into a little pool of half-done make-up and hair still damp.  

“Stop throwing a tantrum.” Hyunjin scolded. “You have to be there in 45 minutes.” 

“What if I...just don’t show up?” 

“Then, you’d be robbing me of $360 and the most expensive gift that I’ve ever gotten for you. And, you’d break my heart. I don’t wanna be heartbroken on Valentines Day. I’d hate you forever.” 

“Nooooo you wouldn’t.” You tossed your forehead into the palms of your hands. 

“I’d hate you for a month probably.” 

“Don’t you have somewhere that you need to be?” As expected, your hands were smudged a bit from the tiny dusting of eyeshadow that you had added to your lids. 

“I told you already, she doesn’t get off until 8 so I’ve still got time. Besides, I already set everything up back at the apartment. I’m in no rush.” At last, your friend cast aside his phone on the mattress with a bounce. “Get up. I’ll help you. You should still look nice anyway...even if he doesn’t care. This night is about you anyway.” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Is satin supposed to feel scratchy...? What? Satin being itchy? ...You must be going crazy if you think-- 

“--Annnd we’re here!” 

The wheels of Hyunjin’s less than glamourous car skidded in front of the hotel with an obvious screech. He was never one for being a good driver anyway. With the pull of his hand through is blond hair he nodded his head for you to open your door. 

“Time’s ticking. It’s nearly 7.” 

“--Jin--” 

“I’m not explaining it again. Just go do the damn thing. You’re overthinking it. Like you do with everything...” 

Your best friend rolled his eyes which were blue today: a part of his own Valentines Day outfit: that of which he looked much better than you thought you had. He had slung his arm over his steering wheel looking on, and even more impatient with you by the second. 

“Is it a fucking crime to be nervous??” 

Hyunjin laughed out sharply. “You’re so cute. ~Especially when there isn’t anything to worry about.~” 

You flicked him hard on his perfect arm covered by his perfectly planned and billowy white top. 

“Would you like to go out there and meet him if it’s so easy?” 

After a subsequent eye roll, your friend reached his long arm to pop open the car door on your side. “You’re not going to make me drag you, are you?” 

“I can get it myself.” You growled, shoving his hand away. 

The February air was crisp, and just cold enough for your breath to appear lightly in front of your face. Immediately, you started to regret everything: the itchy satin shirt (which you guessed probably wasn’t satin) the stiffness of your styled hair, and the way that your feet felt in the pair of shoes that you had broken out just for the occasion. You had even put perfume on; something that a “strictly deodorant” person as yourself found to be suffocating and odd. 

Do Mirrors even have a sense of smell? 

On the busy street, cars whipped past with headlights of yellow and red, and the bustle of the holiday evening buzzed on the sidewalk with couples marching down the way arm and arm and hand in hand. The energy of the evening seemed vibrant almost as if the whole world seemed to be slightly more awake. The plastic heels of ladies in their best shoes clicked past. 

“Good luck!” 

Hyunjin mustered up the most genuine smile that you thought possible for him to craft considering it wasn’t genuine in the slightest. 

“Text me about it tonight--or--actually, not tonight, I’ll be...” He obviously winked, “...busy tonight.”  

“You’re disgusting!!” 

You slammed the car door in Hyunjin’s snide smirk while he laughed out a “Love you!” before speeding away without a care. 

The remnants of old snow caked up in the corners of the hotel where Hyunjin had arranged the date. The hotel itself was very old fashioned looking, almost like it had come right out of one of those old movies he would tease you for liking--it was probably why he had chosen it, you thought to yourself. There was a large golden marquee with a strand of lightbulbs tracing the edge all around it much like an old-timey theater, which gave the name for the hotel. At the doorway made of the same golden hue, there were attentive bellhops in matching blue velvet uniforms and leather gloves that they blew in to to keep their hands warm. 

When you thought more of it, the night was a bit colder than expected, so you pulled your coat closer to your body. Hyunjin had suggested that you wear your pea coat, however it’s warmth factor wasn’t something to write home about. He had something about how it had made your arms look good...as if he would care anything like what your arms looked like. 

You pulled out your phone with your cold fingers to find the information that Hyunjin had sent you. 

Name: Lee Minho 

Model: Generation Four 

Specifications: Personalized 

Service time: 7pm-12am 

Instructions: Meet at the front entrance of the the hotel The Grand at exactly 7pm where the Mirror will be waiting. Mirror will look like: [see image] 

You hovered your hand over the little see image tab. Before, you had decided that you didn’t want to see the picture, and rather leave it as a surprise. That was the thrill of a blind date, right? For a moment, you rationalized it as peeking so that you knew what he looked like so you could find him. You hovered, and hovered... 

“No, I shouldn’t...” You whispered out to the open air while you shoved your phone back into your pocket. 

“Excuse me?” One of those attentive bellhops had snuck behind you and rose a caring hand to your shoulder: an action which made you jump. “Is there anything that I can help you with? Are you waiting for someone?” 

“Oh.” You straightened yourself. “Yes, I am waiting for someone. They’ll be here really--” 

“--Is it me that you’re waiting for?” 

He had strolled right up to you, and you could barely form the words on your mouth to say “yes.” You had heard the stories about Mirrors before, but as far as you had known, this was your first time ever seeing one this close...and you wouldn’t have even known that he was any different from the flesh and bones that you knew you had. 

He was devastatingly handsome; the kind of handsome that models were. Every single one of his features seemed to be carefully planned and calculated down to the little freckle on his nostril and his nose bridge of a perfect angle. Even his physical proportions seemed to be perfect: his arm muscles curved in wonderful angles under his black suit jacket that had one button at the front. He was dressed simply: merely a black tux with a white button up underneath and a deep navy blue tie. His chocolate brown eyes were a bit unique, looking even slightly cat-like. 

Not like you had a type, but if you were to have one, he definitely would have been it. 

He smiled upon seeing you, and coolly adjusted his silver cufflinks which you noticed had an insignia on them that looked a familiar: it was that picture of the eye with the spokes around it, the symbol of 3rdEyeCorp. As expected, everything in life seemed to come with a branding: even synthetic humans. 

“Should we go inside?” 

His voice was gentle and soothing, the kind of voice that you knew could lull you to sleep or convince you to do things that you wouldn’t want to. It was a voice that could put you at ease, and you wondered if that was intentional. Perhaps Hyunjin had told them that at times you could be neurotic. 

You finally squeaked out a, “Yes.” then followed him towards the soft glow of the magnificent building. He had slipped over past you to open the door, letting you enter first. 

“Oh...thanks...” 

As you passed him, you could have sworn that he smelled like some kind of citrus scent. In fact, you didn’t know that he could even have a smell. This was but one of the many questions that had been plaguing you for the past couple weeks since learning of Hyunjin’s plan. 

It wasn’t that he smelled like a person: that kind of earthy scene mixed up with the lingering scent of shampoo on hair, or a bit of mint holding to the corners of your mouth after you had brushed your teeth right before you exited the door. Still, you didn’t mind the citrus, it was better than nothing at all, you assumed. 

He walked up to the maître d with perfect posture, and it was then when you noticed that you were slightly shorter that he was. His suit was pressed, and a line ran down the back directly over his spine. 

“2 for L/n?” He said properly, and it felt strange hearing your last name come from his mouth. 

“Right this way.” 

He looked back at you, almost as if to see if you were doing okay. He held a little glint in his eyes that looked careful, caring even. From the very few words that he had said to you, he still maintained a composure about him that was...human. He was comfortable. 

The three of you reached the table with the ironed white table cloth, small bouquet of red roses and two flickering tea candles. The lighting of the room was dim as all restaurants such as this were, and there was a light hum about the room coupled with the occasional clink of silverware on China. There was a fireplace to the corner of the room, and the dense smell of expensive wine hung in the air. 

The maître d placed down the menus. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

You thought the small action a bit comical. You were the only one who knew his secret. Still, he nodded with a polite smile. “Thank you.” 

The satin fabric on your shirt scraped at your bare chest, and you attempted your slyest attempt at making a tiny itch look nonchalant. He picked up the menu with a few of his brown strands dipping over his eyes. You studied him as he looked it over, not having a clue why. You thought that you had heard somewhere that his kind couldn’t eat. Perhaps he was a new model. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t formally introduced myself yet.” He put the menu down with a little embarrassed smile. “I must’ve forgotten. I’m Lee Minho.” 

“I know.” Your cheeks felt hot. “Uh-and I’m Y/n. But--you probably knew that too.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Smile lines crinkled under his eyes. It was the first imperfection you could find about him. 

“Yo-you too.” 

Minho reached out a slender and pale hand for you to shake and you stared it in a moment of fear. You had never touched a Mirror before, much less wondered what they felt like. 

“I don’t bite.” He chuckled out a small laugh that was much too cute for his own good. His shoulders then appeared to relax and he allowed himself to slouch. “At least, my model doesn’t.” 

You choked out an ugly chortle at the joke. “Ah. I see.” 

“You don’t have to be scared of me. I promise that I feel like anyone else.”

You took it, jumping a little at the sensation. He was warm--not exactly like you expected him to be cold and metallic however. The skin of his hand was cracked and grooved as normal, and it was squishy as if you could feel the muscles that would be underneath. 

With a warm grin, he soothed you saying, “See?” 

‘Oh...mmhm.” You shook his hand firmly. “Holy shit that's really creepy.” You muttered the words as softly as you thought you could have. 

“Creepy?” He laughed out again. “Should I be offended? No one has ever called me creepy before.” 

“Oh! Um, s-sorry, I didn’t mean--” 

“--It’s okay! I was just kidding. I completely understand. Especially if this is your first time meeting someone like me. It is your first time?” 

You nodded drawing your hand back with the warmth from his hand still lingering on yours. 

“Let me know if there is anything that I can do to make you more comfortable. Seems like...we’re meant to be too.” 

“--Meant to be?” You nearly dropped your cloth napkin to the ground. 

“I mean, based off of your profile, they thought that I would be best suited for you. And you know...the programming and all that.” 

“Oh! I guess so...” 

Next, you thought it best to busy yourself with that glass of water that was looking very oddly refreshing. 

“I meant to tell you as well that you look very nice. I think that color suits you very well.” 

Drops of water got caught in your throat, “T-AHEM-this?” You pinched at the fabric. 

Minho’s eyes widened at your sputtering coughs, signaling to a waiter to come fill your glass once more. 

“Sorry, was I not supposed to say that?” 

“No! No no, it’s...you’re fine. I was just a little surprised.” 

“Surprised? Why?” 

“I just didn’t think that you would...nevermind.” 

Even though you had nearly choked yourself seconds ago, up went your water glass to your lips once more. 

Minho fidgeted with his bangs with his pinky finger: a surprisingly vain little task. Under the dull lighting of the whole room, he did look very handsome; almost much too handsome to be in such a place with you. All at once, you became suddenly aware of the irregular patterns of those eyes peeking at you from their own tables with haughty and whispering words on their lips. 

“You look...very nice as well.” 

“Mm thank you.” As charming as ever, he gave a smile back. “This is my first time wearing this. I actually picked it out myself. I thought that you would like the color.” His pale fingers ran down the silk indigo tie. 

“You thought about it too??” 

“Thought about what?” 

A snide smile crept over your mouth. Hyunjin could eat his words. 

“Well do you? Like it?” A curious little smearing of worry painted Minho’s brow that was once again must too cute for his own good. 

“I-I do like it.” 

In all honesty, Minho would have looked good in anything, you thought, no matter how ridiculous. Under the thin white cotton of his shirt, you could see his toned pectorals as well. One pinch to the side of your leg was just enough to scold yourself. 

He looked around himself in a bit of a silent wonder: from the rafters of the high ceilings painted in gold leaf, to the speakeasy on the far edge of the room with the posh looking bartender.  

“I always thought that places like this were kind of stuffy.” He wrinkled his nose. 

“You...what?” 

“There's always someone at one table wondering if they look better, rank higher, or are more successful than the person at the other. Don’t you think the same?” 

“I mean...I think they do keep looking us?” 

“Ah. I noticed that too.” 

Minho looked around himself carefully, then leaned in closer towards you. “Do you think that they know that I’m...you know?” 

You snorted out a laugh covered by your hand. “What? No? How could they?” 

“A hunch.” 

“Can you even get hunches?” 

“I may be a robot, but I can still read a room.” 

You hushed him, “Shhhh! Say that any louder and then they’ll really know.” 

A waiter in a black apron sauntered up to your table with a thin moustache and a big of a sagging face. He looked a bit less like a real waiter and more like a cartoon one. 

“Good evening. Have you finished looking over the menus? Perhaps a bottle of wine to start you off? We have a new house merlot that I would highly  recommend.” He reached a spiny finger to point at the name on your menu. “It would pair particularly well with our specials tonight. Seeing as it is Valentines day--” 

The droning of the waiter continued on, and you had noticed that Minho wasn’t paying any attention at all. Rather, he had settled his gaze on the flickering of the candles, and the yellow light sparked in his pupils. For mere seconds, you could see something a bit different about them: a extremely thin circle of blue-white light around his irises.  

The waiter pulled out his pad with an expectant gaze. 

“Uh-yeah, I-I’ll take that. That--whatever-you-just-mentioned.” 

He appeared puzzled. “You wish to start with the special orange Crème Brule first?” 

“Ah-no! Sorry, can you..” You cringed, “Repeat what you just said?” 

He rolled his eyes, but did respectfully as he was told while you sunk further into your chair with Minho’s teasing smirk. This time you listened to the specials, even though you decided you didn’t even want one, but rather picked one of the cheapest items on the menu. That was one of the drawbacks of paying for your date: he had no obligation to pay for your meal. 

The waiter looked even more puzzled when Minho said he wasn’t ordering anything, but shrugged, burying his pad back into his pocket saying, “I’ll be over with the wine shortly.” 

“Do you want to know something?” Minho leaned back in once the waiter was out of an earshot. 

You treated yourself to yet another sip of your emptying glass, and nodded. 

“There’s at least four others like me in here.” 

“Four? How can you know?” 

“I think I’d know my own kind when I saw them.” 

“I would never be able to tell.” 

The waiter returned, showing the label to the wine to both of you before popping it open and pouring it into glasses with the twist of his wrist. Two drops from the crimson top stained the little napkin he used. 

Minho’s hands toyed with the stem of the glass, but didn’t take a sip. 

“That’s why they call us Mirrors.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Because you’re supposed to see yourselves in us.” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Your body had started to warm with the energy of the room after long, and your appetizer of escargot had arrived. Oddly, since Hyunjin had mentioned it before, it embedded in you an odd craving that you couldn’t satisfy until you had some. By now, you had realized that Minho likely wouldn’t have been eating with you, but it was strange: even the other Mirrors in the room appeared to be. 

“I’m assuming that you can’t eat then?” You popped the buttery taste into your mouth.  

“Yes. It doesn’t make sense for my...biology. If you can call it that. I can’t digest food nor do I have the mechanisms to do so.” 

“Maybe we should have done something that didn’t include food then.” 

“I do have something though! I know that eating alone like this can be uncomfortable.” 

He grabbed inside his inside suit pocket and pulled out a wallet: thin and black leather. It had almost nothing in it save for what looked like a iridescent square. Over top of it was the same logo on his cufflinks. He flipped it around his fingers like a playing card. 

“What is it?” 

“My dinner.” He sated matter-of-factly. 

“You’re gonna...eat that? Maybe you shouldn’t--”

He placed it neatly in front of himself, pressing the surface and it morphed into some kind of three dimensional polygon shape of pixels, both large and small, until it settled into a perfect copy of your dish that you had sitting in front of you. 

“It’s holographic.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Newest in tech at 3rdEye. This is my first time using one. They thought it would be a good idea to send the prototypes out with the Mirrors tonight for the beta test. What do you think?” 

“It’s very...realistic.” 

“It’s pocket sized, and it can really transform into anything that you could want, but of course...its still not really solid. Perfect for me though.” 

He took a bite of his escargot with an equally holographic fork. 

“I imagine that it tastes very good.” 

“You can’t taste things?” 

“Unfortunately, no. Since I don’t need to eat, don’t know why I would need to. I’ve got all the other senses though.” 

The house merlot was bitter on your tongue and full bodied. You couldn’t imagine what your life would have been like without taste. He chewed on, and somehow the action really did seem comforting. 

“You’re very um, open about yourself. You know...talking about yourself so bluntly. I feel like some people when they do these things, they just want to keep on that suspension of disbelief as long as they can; pretending that you're--” 

“--A real person?” 

You hadn’t intended on it coming off as insulting, and a “sorry” formed on your lips. 

“--I’m not offended. And, you’re right. Most people do. But, I could sense that you were different. I don’t have a problem telling you about me. Something told me that you would like to know.” 

“Something?” 

“Enough about me though, lets talk about you. You’re a doctor aren’t you?” 

“-For animals. Nothing too crazy. I’m working up my way to have my own practice some day. For now, I’m just doing nurse type stuff. Giving immunizations, checking teeth and stuff like that.” 

“I read your thesis. The one from your pre-vet. I thought that your research was very interesting. How come you didn’t continue on with animal behavior?” 

His string of questions made you crack out into laughter. Never had anyone you had ever dated said that they had read up on you. 

“I can’t believe that you just said that.” 

“What? I had assumed that you might want to talk about something that interests you like that.” 

“That was...so long ago, I don’t even think about that paper anymore.” 

Minho took some of his wine down with a polite dab of his napkin to his lips. 

“How about hiking then? Or those Frank Capra movies that you like? Which one is your favorite?” 

“Stop, stop. This is--” 

His eyes widened. “Did I misspeak again? Your friend said that it would be okay if we did the proper research--” 

“--Just...sorry, it’s strange that you know everything about me already and we’ve hardly just met.” 

“I’m not following.” 

“Can you just...forget like, everything you know about me for a minute? This is supposed to be a blind date isn’t it?” 

“I can do that.” Minho tightened his tie. 

“How about we talk about something else?” 

Minho nodded in agreement with a determined tiny grin. “I can tell you about what I do?” 

“You have a job?” 

Your prompt waiter appeared with a giant silver platter which glinted in the light of the numerous dancing candles around it. The ceramic plates clinked into the glasses assorted on the table, and he lastly offered out freshly grated parmesan for your pasta. You said “when” and he was just as quickly out of your way, but not after granting the both of you one more questioning glare. 

“Yes.” 

Your date flipped over his holographic square, and soon it transformed into another spitting image of your meal. 

“I’m supposed to tell you that I’m a college professor of ornithology but since we’re being blunt here, my job is working for 3rdEye, and doing basically whatever they ask of me. Including this. And actually...” He twisted a string of noodles around his fork. “...I think that it’s going pretty well.” 

A quick giggle erupted out from you. “I’m glad that we’re being honest because you do not look like someone who teaches twenty somethings about birds.” 

“But if I had said I did, would that have made you like me more?” 

“Maybe. I’m sure that they picked that because I did graduate research on migration and flight patterns.” 

“Likely.” 

“Maybe I should have stuck with animal behavior. Then we would have had more to talk about.” 

A silence filled the space between you as you tried your best to eat your pasta with as much grace as you could. Of course, you were still one to get it on your lap and the table cloth, but luckily you had a napkin to protect you. Your date on the other hand, ate as if he was eating with the queen herself. For several moments, you really did allow yourself those brief moments of ignorance: you really were just two people, sitting in a fancy restaurant on Valentines Day, eating a meal together, on a date, as an normal two people would do. Every few moments too, he would look at you with a type of gentle adoration in his eyes too. 

And it felt nice. 

It really was as effortless as Hyunjin had said. You would be eating your words on this one. 

At last, you had scraped out the last chunks of tomato and vegetable bites from your shallow dish, and you sat back which a sense of drowsiness clinging to your eyes. Over time, you had slumped deeper and deeper into your chair as you felt your body warm with the fireplace. You didn’t mean to look, but your watch had read just past 9 o’clock. 

“That all tasted good.” Minho sighed, and slumped along with you. 

“I thought you couldn’t taste?” 

“Ah. You’re right. Well, I enjoyed eating that with you. Did it taste good?” 

“It did.” 

“Should we get some of that orange Crème Brule from earlier?” 

You folded up your napkin on the table. “You mean should I get some of that Crème Brule? I’m the one paying here remember?” 

“Are you?” 

With the stretch of your arms, you answered, “Not today. I don’t have that doctor’s pay...yet.” 

“But shouldn’t you eat something sweet on Valentines Day? Isn’t that also what its about?” 

You laughed, “I don’t know where you heard that, but no, it doesn’t.” 

“Ah, I see. My understanding of the holiday is very jumbled. Holidays are like that for us. The sort of emotional attachment to them is hard for us to understand. I’ve watched millions of hours of films to understand them...but--” 

“--Millions?” 

“Yes?” 

“That’s…insane.” 

“Not for me.” He said with a happy little grin. “Should we be leaving?” 

In one motion, he swept up his shirt sleeve, just over his wrist where you had expected him to have a watch. Instead, a faint blue glow emerged on his skin making letters and numbers that you couldn’t read as well from upside down. 

“Hm. 3 more hours. What else would you like to do with our time together?” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The winter cold bit at your ears while the two of you walked together down the busy urban stretch. Even later into the night the giddy excitement of friends ambling down the streets and couples linking to eachother with tipsy happiness could still be found everywhere. You barely knew him, but you still felt in some way compelled to reach out and interlock your arm with his as those other couples did. You had a half a mind to reach out to him, but another half a mind to keep your arms wrapped around yourself. 

But, as if he had read your mind, he reached out his hand behind him to quietly slip your arm into his. 

“Put your hands in your pockets.” He asked, and you did so. “I figured that you must be cold, so...my body heats itself too, makes me more...you know.” 

He was warm. Much warmer than your entire body felt had felt then, but still you noted that the tips of his ears and nose had turned pink. 

“Where to?” He questioned next. 

“I-I’m not sure. I didn’t think this far.” 

“I could pick?” 

“You know where to go?” 

He was silent for a moment, then nodded. “There’s a place that I wouldn’t mind going to. Do you know how to skate?” 

“Ice...skate?” 

He huffed out with a tiny smile, and you noticed that when he did, no visible molecules could be seen in front of his face. 

“Do you? I can pick something else? It’s not everyone’s skill.” 

“N-no. I can do it.” 

You don’t know why you had said it: perhaps you felt as if you had something to prove to this inhuman person, or you really did want to go there with him, no matter where it was. 

You had never learned how to skate in your life. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The ice rink was lined with pink and white string lights: likely a Valentines Day decoration. Plastic hearts made of fuzzy tinsel also decorated the edges of the rink and sparkled under the lights. It had been built into the center of a public park, and bodies huddled in winter coats sat together on the benches to the side, waving at those they knew when they slipped past. Tinny music played over the outdoor speakers: it was some pop song that you had heard before, but didn’t know the name of. 

Minho laced up your skates for you, and even then you noticed that his knuckles had turned pink too. 

“Are you...cold?” 

“Oh! This?” He turned his hands around. “No, I’m not. it’s just another one of my humanisms.” 

“Humanisms?” 

“Something to make me look more like you. When it’s cold outside my body senses it and does this.” 

“I see.” 

Even if you knew that he couldn’t possibly feel things in the same why, he was damn convincing--and you couldn’t help but think it was unbearably cute as well. 

“Done! You ready? You can take my hand if you want?” 

You stood wobbly as a deer taking its first steps. Walking on the blades was much more difficult than you would have guessed. He didn’t need to ask twice for you to grab hold. 

“I’m assuming that you know how to do this?” 

“There’s a lot of things that I know how to do.” He winked. 

The second that your feet met the ice, you felt your heart start beating into overdrive with your anxiety of falling. Over the ice, it too felt colder, and that didn’t help much either. With one hand you clawed to the side of the rink, and the other dug into Minho’s arm. 

“I thought that you said that you knew how to skate?” 

“I lied. I’m gonna fall on my fricking face and its gonna be the most embarrassing thing ever. Worse than spitting escargot into your lap.” 

“Spitting escargot? What?” 

“Just--can you help me?” 

He tittered with an adorably warm laugh and grabbed back at you firmly. “I won’t let go.” 

Even the toddlers in their little training bumpers were more skilled than you. Minho was patient, and coached you through the skills of the left and right motions of your feet and getting into a rhythm. You still flapped your arms around wildly like a wobbly penguin, but he was eventually able to coax you away from the wall.

“See! You’re getting the hang of it!” 

“Really?” 

Minho nodded profusely, letting go of both of your hands to hold just one. “Stop looking at your feet and just look at me. You’ll trip yourself up focusing so hard.” 

Other couples whipped past you, and you thought it best not to look at how easy it was for them. 

“I-I think that I’m doing it!” 

Minho’s eyes lit seeing you start to swing your feet back and forth. In that pink lighting of the rink, you could see that thin ring of light around his eyes once more. Even though it was unnatural, you still thought that it looked beautiful. 

“WATCH OUT!!” Came a distant voice from behind you. 

Before you had a second to turn around, a fuzzy blur came barreling into you. Two small bodies: a couple middle school boys chasing each other, came colliding with your teetering body, forcing you to fall to the hard ice with a terrible thud. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” One of their pre-pubescent voices cracked. 

“I-I’m fine...I think.” 

Your air had been knocked right out of your lungs and your butt ached with a sharp pain that you hoped you wouldn’t be feeling for days. Both of your hands were wet with ice from the contact. Minho quickly offered you his hand up.

“-You okay?” He brushed ice off of your coat. 

Truthfully, you were horribly shaken, and your chest shook, but you lied once more. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” 

“No you’re not.” His worried eyes studied you. “Lets get you something warm to drink okay?” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“One hot chocolate please.” 

Minho fiddled with his wallet, picking out that same iridescent square from before. As soon as his fingers touched it, it glimmered into a credit card. 

“It can do that?” You had uttered, but he gave you back a cautious glare. 

The man at the little coffee stand took it without question, and somehow, it worked. 

“$3.15″ He monotoned, and gave the card back. 

The white Styrofoam cup warmed your hands instantly, and the chocolatey steam delighted your nostrils. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” 

“It’s no problem. I wanted to.” 

You took a sip, but a strange silence befell over your date, and he furrowed his brows. 

Under his breath, he repeated the word “...wanted?” 

The further that you walked along the river together, the less that you wanted to take another look at your watch where it peaked out from your coat sleeve. You imagined that it must have been nearing almost 10:30--optimistically. Instead, you took long and purposeful sips of of your drink and indulged in the way that the heat would seep down from your throat and all the way down your body. 

Onward, one of the great and massive bridges of the city blinked with an array of multicolored lights: some from cars, others from the way that it was decorated to look a bit like shining stars. Under the lights, the navy-black of the river reflected the fractals of light. The walkway was nearly empty of people except for the odd couple sitting and cuddled up by the edge of the water. The water should have been frozen, but it didn’t appear to be giving up just yet. 

Your companion had drawn quiet with eyes cast down to his walking feet. You had half a mind to reach out to him... 

“Is there anything you would like to do?” Your question filled the quiet, but you didn’t expect him to stop in his steps upon hearing it. 

“Are you asking me if there is anything that I want do to?” 

“Yes...?” 

Minho was again quiet, then turned to look at the vast expanse of the cityscape in front of you both. 

Suddenly, he began, “Valentines Day is a holiday that has to do with loving, doesn’t it?” 

You stammered at the question in your confusion, but still answered. “Yes.” 

“You express love on the holiday? You show people that you love them, and that you care for them. Right?” 

“I think so...but why are--” 

“--What do you think that it means to love something?” 

Distantly, cars honked, and music boomed out from drawn down windows, and it floated in the evening air. 

For you, loving was something that was second nature. It was little bits of happiness, fuzzy feelings, but it also ached, and felt like being lost. How could you possibly begin to describe what it meant? 

Minho’s eyes were full of intrigue and even maybe a twinge of desperation. Could Mirrors even hold such a thing in their eyes? 

“I-I’m not sure how to cover it all, but, I guess that I could say that loving something, or someone, is to want them. You want to be around them, you want to see them laugh or smile, you want to make them feel that you care. I don’t think that it is much more complicated than that. 

The man appeared even more confused, almost like he had been computing his own mental calculations right before his very eyes. Then, all at once, his eyes softened. 

“If loving something is to want it; to have desire, desiring is the first step? Love must be simplier than I thought that it was, and maybe...I think that I can do it.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Minho swept up his hands in yours after casting aside the cup to the ground. 

“You asked me if I wanted to do something. But the thing is...I don’t think I’ve ever wanted do to anything ever before in my life. It was just, what others wanted of me and what I colud do for them. Not me.” 

Realization swept over Minho piece by piece, and soon it all unfolded for you too. 

He drew your arms and hands around the back of his neck to pull your body closer to his. 

You might’ve looked before, but his lips looked soft and unbelievably sweet: like melting snowflakes, whipped cream, or the fuzzy flesh of peaches. 

“I do want something.” He said at last. 

“Minho...what are you saying?” 

“I-I can’t tell if what it is that I’m feeling is some kind of algorithm, or I’m just...you’re so...different.” 

“I hope that you’re not just saying this all--” 

“--I’m not! I’m not. I promise...an-and Mirrors can’t lie.” He laughed out. “How can you make a machine that’ll lie to you?” 

His hands crept up your sides, and all the way up to cup your face in his hands.

He was impossible. In every way, but he was real. As real as the warmth from his hands and as real as the way that his mouth appeared to wet with saliva and how you could count the tiny moles on his face. 

“Well, what is it that you--”

He had drawn your face close up into his, then closed any space that divided the two of you. Your lips parted with his into a meeting of his plush lips that were even softer than you had imagined. Even though you knew he couldn’t taste it, you flooded the taste of chocolate into his mouth, and your body shivered in the way that he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. He wasn’t intrusive, but rather curious, and thrilled. Any semblance of him that was any less than the skin that you felt on yours faded, and you poured yourself all back to him. His fingers held fast to the sides of your face while he kissed back every with every bit of him that he could. Even in the one moment when your eyes had fluttered open, he held his eyes closed, to focus only on you. Your own wondering hands laced into his fuzzy locks. 

Each and every kiss that he painted across your lips was laced with indescribable want: something that he shouldn’t have even known, but you could feel it. He echoed the smile that you had pressed into his lips. 

“I just want to be with you tonight. Just a bit longer. No more timers.” Minho whispered onto your mouth, barely breaking. 

On the one hand, his request terrified you. A Mirror, one who you thought to be unfeeling, pre-programmed, an empty shell, wanted you. But still, you couldn’t control yourself from wanting him back, and everything about him that you knew and didn’t know. Wanting him, was the simplest thing you could have done. 

“I-I want that too.” 

His smile was thankful, and suddenly every little way that his eyes would crinkle or the corners of his mouth would upturn seemed more genuine. 

Minho traced your hands to the back of your his neck where he guided them to the tip of his spine. 

“Touch here.” He guided your fingertip over what felt like a bone. “Press down.” 

You did so, and the patch of skin sunk down a bit like a button. You held his eyes which flickered wholly with that blue-white light you had taken notice of before. 

“Say “Bypass LK2510.” “ 

He held your finger down still, and you repeated the phrase, watching as the light vanished all at once, even that thin ring around his irises. 

“What did that do?” 

Minho blinked a couple time like he was ridding sleep from his eyes, then beamed with a grin that only got wider and wider. “They shouldn’t know where I am for a while. You disabled my tracker.” 

“I did what??? Can’t I get in trouble for that??” 

“Not when I made you do it.” 

In his delight, he pressed his lips back up against yours with a kind of light air that was ecstatic and hurried--it was contagious, and the feeling swept over you until you were just as giddy. You were nearly as giddy as a school child reveling in the mischief of knowing what they were doing was against the classroom rules. 

Your chest swelled with nervous excitement, but it wasn’t nearly as addictive as any drug that you could imagine. 

“Where do you want to go now?” You asked him with hands clinging to the sides of his coat. 

“Anywhere.” 

~~

[nsfw version/ending coming soon on binniesthighs!] 

[snxxiao]

Your Fall | Tsukishima Kei (feat. Yamaguchi Tadashi)

—Pairing: Tsukishima x f! reader, Yamaguchi x f! reader (kinda, not really)

—Summary: When you were head over heals for his best friend, how was Tsukishima meant to tell you his real feelings? 

—Content: angst, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, unrequited love, pining, everyone is really bad at emotions, drinking (of age), mentions of vomit/nausea, innocent! reader, college party, heartbreak, heated make out sessions, a bit of groping, young love, clueless (read: idiot) everyone, corruption kink if you squint,  slow burn (?), yams and tsuki are kind of ooc, loss of innocence? (kinda idk), walking in on two people doing the deed, cussing!!, virgin! reader, possessive! Tsukishima, tsuki is a little out of a perv?, very very loose discription of a panic attack if you squint real hard, vi I think that’s it?? Tell me if I’m missing something :)

—WC: 8.5K 

—Notes: first full blown one-shot for this blog!! Woo!! It’s not even nsfw, idk how I managed to do that. I just got into an angst reading mood and decided to write this so here we are! I’m still not fully happy with it, but I never really like the things I write so it’s okay :). I’m not happy with the ending, either, so at some point. I might come back and fix it. Umm,, oh! There will be a nsfw part 2 at some point called “winter”. I was originally going to add it here, but by the time I finished the main story, I realised it was already 8k (plus I didn’t really know how to include it bc I hate when smut is just thrown into a fanfic without incorporating it to the plot) and decided just to include it in another part :) when it’s finished I’ll like it bother here and on my Masterlist :) have a nice day!! Sorry if this was bad!!

—Masterlists <3

Yamaguchi was an easy man to love. You knew that very well. How exactly couldn’t he be? With his big puppy-dog eyes and his warm heart to match, how was anyone meant to not fall for him? 

He was the type to carry around hair ties or pads just in case you needed them. The type to always offer up his jacket when you were cold.  Not to mention the freckles- oh my god weren’t his freckles just the cutest thing? He was the perfect man. You knew that, of course you did.

You had been nursing a crush on him since you first made it into Karasuno. You had bumped into the then second year on your very first day. You had somehow managed to get lost enough to end up in the second-year hallways, and he, being the oh-so-kind gentleman he was, helped you back to class.

Back then it was just a crush, puppy-dog love if you wanted to call it that. To be honest, you even followed him around like a lost puppy. But you couldn’t help it, you were just so enamored by his being. All logical thoughts didn’t matter, only those surrounding your senior did, and that was okay. Of course it was. 

Ever since that day, you did everything you could to force your way into his tight nit friend group- even if that meant having to put up with the berates of Tsukkishima Kei. You just wanted to be around Yamaguchi in any way you could, and if that meant putting up with the mongrel that stole your food and called you an idiot, you would take it. It was all worth it for Tadashi. 

He was like spring- the warmth, the happiness, the new beginnings. It was amazing. 

To everyone else, your crush on him was obvious. Whenever you were around him, whenever he was giving you the slightest bit of attention, your cheeks would always become flushed. Your words would stutter. You’d give him gifts you that you didn’t seem to give anyone else. Not to mention how you would go all out for valentines day, spoiling him with homemade chocolates and any gifts you could find. 

How could everyone not notice when it was so very obvious?

But, as stories like these go, it wasn’t obvious to him. He just thought you were nice. Maybe shy like him! You guys could understand each other because you were both so timid, must’ve been one of the reasons you were always around him and Tsukki, right? You must’ve been too nervous to make friends with anyone in your own grade. He didn’t mind, he liked your company. He hoped you guys would stay friends even after high school. You were a kind, calming personality to be around- a perfect comparison to Tsukki. 

He was naïve, you both were. 

Of course, he didn’t know about your feelings.

Tsukkishima, on the other hand, was the first person to notice. How could he not? No other girls really gave his best friend the attention that you did. None of them brightened at the slightest amount of physical affection from his friend. None of them made food or brought snacks to him. Obviously, he made fun of your antics, how could he not? You looked so stupid with your ears pink, your voice stuttering.

You were especially cute when he was teasing you, how your personality did a 180-degree flip for him. He got to see the side of you that you never let Yamaguchi see out of fear that he wouldn’t find you appealing. The side that was quick-witted and loud while still managing to maintain an air of innocence. The side that would surly make Yamaguchi turn his head up at the idea of even dating you. It was the same side that made Tsukkishima actually like to be around you. He loved your reactions; they were always so funny. How could he stop himself from teasing you? Especially when Yams was around.

Tsukkishima would never admit that he found you cute though- anytime the thought crossed his mind he’d push it away and shun it. You weren’t cute, just annoying, and stupid like everyone else. It wasn’t his fault that you gave amazing reactions. That’s all he wanted- a reaction out of you. Not for you to pay attention to him, to get your attention away from Yamaguchi for one goddamn minute of your life. Not for you to let go of that faux, overly shy persona that you had when it was his best friend around. Of course, it wasn’t that.

Thankfully, much to Tsukkishima’s delight (even if it was delight he was not yet willing to admit to), as you grew closer to the two men, you let the personality you had around Yamaguchi falter a bit more. The longer you three stayed friends, the more comfortable you must’ve felt. Yamaguchi didn’t really pick up on any difference, but Tsukkishima, whether it was consciously or not, did.

He noticed how your words would stutter less, how you slowly gained more confidence around them. How you were more willing to fight back against Tsukki, even in the presence of Yamaguchi. He liked it, it made you more fun to be around. They weren’t just your seniors anymore; they were your best friends.

You three did everything together- shopping, karaoke, meals. On special days you even brought Tsukki a bento box. He didn’t like to admit it, but he loved your cooking. The cute touches you added made him smile inside. Still, he kept convincing himself that the only reason he wanted to smile was because your childish antics were so stupid.

The only time he even came close to realizing his feelings for you was when he finally noticed how many guys confessed their feelings to you. When he picked you up at your locker (a habit he gained after learning you two attended the same cram school), more often than not there was a confession letter waiting inside. He never really noticed them, though. That was until white day, March 14th.

 He saw you coming down to your lockers after your club activity, a giant stuffed dog held firmly in your arms. That was something he surly noticed. Something he couldn’t miss. 

“What the hell is that?” he asked, glaring slightly at the offending object in your possession. He had no right to be jealous, he hadn’t even come to terms with the fact he liked you. But he knew you having something like that made him upset.

“Hmm? Oh! This? Some guy gave it to me,” you smiled, a pink blush dusting your cheeks, “His name is Ruffus!” He rolled his eyes at the stupid name you gave the stuffed puppy before smirking slightly. You were blushing, that meant Yamaguchi must’ve given it to you right? You did give him home made chocolates on valentine’s day. You were probably so happy because this meant he was finally reciprocating.

“Ahhh, I get it. Yams gave that to you huh? So, you two are finally a thing? Took both of you long enough.” You blushed at his comment.

“Of course, not you idiot, some guy in my class gave it to me. I didn’t even give him anything for valentine’s day.” You told him as you opened your locker. He looked inside, noticing quite a few pink cards located inside. The same type of envelopes those guys put their disgusting confession letters in. The feeling in his gut sparked back up.

You didn’t pay them any attention though, you just stuffed them into your bag so you could write them each a letter back, rejecting them as politely as you could. That’s what you normally did, anyway. The letters weren’t really anything new. 

“Yams’ didn’t get me anything.” You said, forcing a smile, “I would say there’s next year, but you two are graduating, gonna leave me all alone! How will I survive!” You smiled at him and continued on your way to the train station. He actually felt bad for you. He normally doesn’t feel bad for anyone, but there you were, still pining after a guy who hadn’t shown any interest in you for over a year. He knew you had plenty of options (himself being one of them), but there you were, still going after his best friend who saw you as northing more then a cute little sister.

He wanted to tell you to get over him, but he was never very good at expressing what he wanted to say in words. Even if he did tell you, you both knew your feelings wouldn’t just go away. He could just tell you that Yams liked some other girl, but something in him told him not to. He didn’t want to see you sad.

So, instead, the next day he popped into your classroom early in the morning. Before you were even able to greet him, he walked over to you, put a stuffed frog on your head, then left the room without saying anything. He had never done something like that before, he wasn’t the type to give people gifts. You were confused, very confused over his actions. But happy.

He knew a gift from him was different then a gift from Yamaguchi, Yamaguchi was better than him after all. But, he had the urge to help in some way, so getting you a gift was the least he could do.

---

When graduation rolled around for your third-year best friends, you were there to support them. You always would be. You had flowers for the two of them, as well as a big dinner planned for later that night. You were going to treat them. The thought made you smile, they really deserved it.

After the ceremony, when you arrived to their classroom, Yamaguchi looked as handsome as ever, but then again, when didn’t he? His smile looked so pretty talking to his classmates. You wished he was smiling at you. But then again, when didn’t you?

Tsukkishima finally came over to you before Yamaguchi did. He had an annoyed scowl when you gave him the flowers, but then again, he always did, didn’t he? You were so proud of your friends that today you didn’t mind the teasing or the typical rude comments. You just wanted to spend a nice, happy, last day of high school with your crush and your best friend.

---

Your friends had both gotten into the same university, a university that you hoped to attened yourself the following year. You couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. You wanted to be with them again.

When the next school year started up you realized how terribly you missed the duo. Sure, you had other friends in your classes, but it wasn’t the same as the time you got to spend with the seniors you held so close to your heart. So, what else could you do other then put your head into a book and study? You worked as hard as you could to be able to make it into their university. Then you’d get to spend time with your friends once again.

As expected when their classes started up you didn’t get to see them as often, typically only getting to text them rather then actually meet in person. Yamaguchi seemed really supportive about you going to university with them, often sending you texts of encouragement on long nights of studying. Even better was when he had the time he took you out to get coffee, then to the local library to help you study. It reminded you why you started to like him in the first place; you wanted to be better for him. Better then just a silly little high school girl with a silly little crush.

Tsukishima, while you hoped would be just as supportive as Yams, didn’t really seem to care much. The occasional hangout still took place, you both still texted. However, college was stressful; it was really hard. Never mind his volleyball career and the countless hours he put into practice. The time you used to take up in his life was now consumed by school. You didn’t really expect any more or any less from him. At least you still had Yamaguchi, that was who you really needed, right?

 He was your springtime, remember?

---

Finally, you managed to do it! You graduated your final, painstaking year of high school! Even got into your top university, the one Tsuki and Yams went to! You were so excited. You couldn’t believe it when you got your acceptance letter.

Finally, you would be re-united with your best friends again. It would be just like high school all over again, right?

As per usual, you were wrong. It seemed like most of the time you were. While they were both happy for you (overjoyed actually), when you finally started attending the university, the dynamic was drastically different than before. You hoped you would get to spend time together once again, just like you did back in the good old days. You hoped you would all get to eat lunch together, hang out after school, study together. But none of that was really the same.

Your and Tsuki’s schedule always lined up together, however, Yamaguchi’s always ended being the opposite. Which left you and Tsukishima to hang out a lot more often, something neither of you could really argue with. He missed you, a lot more then he was willing to admit. You missed your big old oaf as well, especially your late-night talks about life. More often than not, he ended up in your room until the moon was high in the sky, just, talking to you. After his long, stressful days, you were the exact break he needed.

Your talks never got emotional, at least they didn’t on his end. But that was okay, you didn’t mind. That was always just… him. And you liked your friendship with him. Whenever your conversations ventured to Yamaguchi, he made sure to never talk about his friends love life. The crushes he had on other girls at the time, his friends ideal type, none of that. Maybe that was a mistake, he didn’t know. Maybe you would have finally taken the hint and gotten over your feelings. He just didn’t want to hurt you. The way your eyes lit up when his best friend was around, he couldn’t take that away from you. That just wasn’t right. He just wanted to see you happy. That was his excuse.

As the years continued on, your puppy-love that originally began in high school had only grown and bloomed into a full-fledged love for none other than Yamaguchi Tadashi, the innocence with it still carried over. He had nurtured that love without even knowing it himself. He was an easy man to love. In your second year of college, you knew that for sure.

There you were, laying on the floor with Tsukishima occupying the bed like most other nights. That day you had gone out with the two of them, now, you were flustered. Mad even. That day, while you were out, you noticed Tadashi staring at a pretty 4th year girl. His cheeks were completely flushed, and when she managed to bump into him on accident, he could barely utter a word. The two of you were opposites, that was pretty obvious, even if it was just based on looks alone. She was graceful and elegant, and so very mature. While you were still cute and innocent; your second year of college and you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.  

It hurt, it really, really hurt to see that. So, you now sat there, stewing in silence as Tsuki kicked your head for the umpteenth time trying to get your attention.

“Oi, you fre-“

“I think Tadashi is into experienced girls.” You said abruptly, finally breaking out of your once quiet demeanor. Tsuki shifted uncomfortably, not really knowing how to traverse around this.

“What the fuck are you on about this time?”  Was the response he settled with. You turned around, finally making eye contact with him.

“Think about it! We both saw how he was around that girl today!” You pouted, standing up. You put your hands on your hips. Kei thought you looked stupid (cute) like that, with your cheeks all puffed out in obvious irritation.

“Yeah and?”

“Do you think if I was more experienced then I would have a chance with him?” He really didn’t know how to answer this one. It was one of the subjects he always avoided. He knew Tadashi’s ideal type, but he would never actually tell you it.

“(y/n)..” he signed out, rubbing his face slightly in irritation. That’s when you said words he never thought he would actually hear from you.

“Could you teach me how to kiss?” It was silly of you to think knowing how to kiss would suddenly make him fall in love with you, but people did silly things for love didn’t they? You crawled between his legs, looking up at him with a smile and a pale pink blush adorning your features.

Tsukishima sat up straighter than he had before, and looked at you with evident shock across his features. You, his innocent little best friend, was asking him for kissing lessons? You were sitting so prettily between his legs? You weren’t actually serious were you? Sure, he knew how to, he had quite a bit of experience and that kind of thing didn’t mean much to him with other girls. And sure, the idea did excite him- but no. No, he couldn’t do that. Not to his best friend who was in love with their green-haired counterpart.

“Idiot, stop talking out of your ass.” He said, turning his face away from yours, a pink settling on his cheeks as well, “You wanted to save that for someone you cared about.” He knew this, of course he did. And he wasn’t that person. For some reason, at the thought of that, something panged in his heart.

“So what? It doesn’t matter anymore does it? I don’t care about that kind of thing anymore.” Yes you did. You both knew you did. Kei was the only one who was willing to admit it though.

He signed and tried to push you away from him slightly, “Yes you do. You just need to sleep this idiocity of yours off.” He was blunt about it, he always was. But, suddenly he felt a gentle tug on the bottom of his shirt and he instinctively met your gaze once again. His eyes couldn’t help but widen.

“Pl-please Kei…? I… I really need your help… I’m too inexperienced… I trust you a lot.. and I really need your help with this…” Now you were just flat out begging him. It tugged on his heart strings; it really did. He never wanted to make you sad.

He signed, you were always able to make him give in to stupid things. Only you though.

“Fine. But don’t come to me asking for shit like this again.” He stated bluntly. And suddenly, all the sadness vanished from your face, replaced with that big stupid smile he told himself he hated.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! You’re the best person in the world!” And for once, maybe he believed it. When you spoke things so earnestly, it was hard for him not to believe them. He rolled his eyes.

“You better not regret this okay?” He spoke softly. He slowly reached out and took you chin between his forefinger and thumb, leading your face closer to his.

“I promise I won’t.”

And with that last bit of consent he needed, he kissed you.

It was gentle, so gentle. It was too easy to kiss him back. Your grip stayed firm on the bottom of his shirt, your eyes screwed shut awkwardly tight. Eventually, he pulled away only to kiss you again, this time deeper and more passionate. He felt years of weight rushing off of him all at once and he had no clue why. All he knew is that for some reason he was finally able to relax. He removed his hand from your chin, instead resting it on your waist gently.

Before he realized what he was doing, he gently licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You squeaked but nevertheless obliged, opening your mouth just enough so he could move his tongue inside.

He kiss itself was slow and passionate. He slowly coaxed out what he wanted from you without exchanging any words. The only time the two of you pulled away was to take a breath before he kissed you again and again, each one rougher then the last. Eventually, you began to relax into his touch, into him as he kept going. You never really thought just kissing another person could feel this good.

At some point throughout the exchange, Tsukishima had managed to take hold of your ass, pulling you onto his lap. You let out a little whine when he gripped you too hard. That whine excited him. He didn’t think he could take it anymore. He was getting hard, too hard. Your innocence, your inexperience. He loved all of it.

He wasn’t thinking anymore, why should he think when he gets so drunk off of just kissing you?

Oh right.

That’s why.

Because its you. His best friend of 5 years who was hopelessly in love with someone else. Someone that wasn’t him. It made him upset, deeply so. Why didn’t you love him the same way you loved Yamaguchi? What did Yamaguchi have that he didn’t?

Wait, was he in love with you?

Thoughts over the last 5 years finally registered with him as you began to pull your shirt off. As much as he wanted to continue, this was all too much for him to deal with him at the moment. Years of feelings and emotions that he kept supressed rushed out of him like the Niagra falls. It was too much. This was too much.

That’s when he remembered, you weren’t doing this for him. You were doing it because you wanted Yamaguchi to like you. He had to stop this.

You moaned again and pulled away from the kiss, once again attempting to remove the annoying material known as your shirt. If he didn’t know the truth maybe he really would believe it, that you actually cared about him and wanted to do this.

Abruptly, Tsukishima stood up, causing you to fall back onto the plush, stuffed animal covered bed. You looked at him confused. He must’ve just been nervous to take things farther, he probably thought you didn’t want to. It was okay! You needed to learn about that stuff too anyway if you were going to show Yamaguchi how mature and elegant you could be. Just like that other girl. The girl he really liked.

“‘S okay!” You smiled and sat up on the bed, “We can keep going, I don’t mind.” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, expecting him to move back on top of you to continue. But instead, he began to grab his things and make way for the door. You were confused. Why was he acting like this all of a sudden? Didn’t he say he would help? Didn’t he wanna do this? You quickly got up and grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Did I do something wrong? Was I that bad?”

“No.” He bluntly stated, not looking back at you. He couldn’t deal with this. He pulled his arm away, “Just confess to him already. This is getting annoying. Shit it’s been annoying. It’s been 5 fucking years!” Suddenly, you felt insecure. You felt rejected.

“Wh-what? But I thought…”

“You thought wrong. Just tell him you like him.” And with that, he left your dorm room. He really didn’t understand why he was getting so upset, he didn’t exactly have a right to either. He had never felt this jealous before. He didn’t feel it when he fucked around with girls, didn’t feel it when guys hit on the other girls he had been interested it, but you were different. He needed to come to terms with these newly discovered feelings, yet he didn’t know if he could ever actually face you again. Not with you still head over heels for Yamaguchi.

So, the days trailed on with no sign of Tsukishima. Yamaguchi was showing up less and less, too. Presumably, he was meeting up with that girl again, Riko, as you learned her name to be. You saw them around campus a few times. But you didn’t let yourself admit the truth. You didn’t want to. It was better to just protect your heart. They were just friends, study partners. Had to be right?

The worst of it was that whenever you tried to talk to Tsuki, he always left you on read or said something so dry that you couldn’t reply to it. Seems like your spring, your happiness, your youth had finally faded.

Over the coming weeks you were alone again. Just like high school, you took to studying to drown out the feelings of loneliness. Helplessness maybe. Eventually, you stopped trying to spend time with them. It was obvious Kei had been ignoring you since that night, and Yamaguchi was clearly occupied with his summer fling.

That’s it.

This had to be the feeling of summer. Uncomfortable, alone, and warm. School was over, it wasn’t as easy to be around friends. There were still pretty flowers, they just weren’t around you. You had to seek refuge in your cool house. The cold was much more calming.

But eventually, you got tired of that too. You were tired of this. All the awkward tension, all the avoidance of each other. Maybe, just maybe, if you couldn’t save your relationship with Tsuki, you could at least save it with Yamaguchi.

You chose a day and marked it on your calendar. That was the day you would finally tell him your true feelings. Up until now, you were too scared of the rejection, too scared of loosing him, but you practically already had. Your friendship with the two men was in shambles, so if there was an all or nothing chance that could make things better, you decided you needed to take it.

If he rejects you, you decided that you could take it. You have to take it. You cant just sit there pining after him anymore. Back in your younger years you thought that you might still have a chance if you just waited it out. Maybe he would confess! But he never did. Maybe you just needed to confess your feelings to get over him. Maybe just maybe that’s what you wanted.

Or maybe you wanted him to accept you with open arms. You didn’t really know what you wanted. You just wanted to be done with the drama your crush on him has brought you so you could go back to spring.

But seasons change. The cruel clock continues to tick on and on without stopping. Once you passed spring you couldn’t get it back.

—-

Finally, when that fated day arrived, you walked up to his dorm. You tried your best to look nice and calm, but you knew you weren’t very good at that. Even when you tried your hardest you always looked slightly disheveled. You once hoped it was something Yamaguchi would like about you, but it never seemed like it was. Tsukishima loved it though, he was finally willing to admit it too.

You looked down at his door handle and noticed a sock placed on it. Looking back on that moment, you wished you knew what it meant. That might’ve saved you from seeing what you did.

You had a lot of wishes.

But alas, you never got that lesson from your female friends- hell you didn’t really had any close female friends other than the guy’s team managers in high school. So, in your naïveté, you gently took the sock off the handle, maybe it somehow ended up there when he was doing the laundry? He was clumsy like that. You shrugged it off and twisted to see if it was locked. It was.

That should have been your second red flag to turn back, he always kept his door unlocked.

But, once again, you always seemed to make the wrong choice.

You found your keys, pulling them out of your pocket. Located on the ringlet was the same key he had given to his dorm back at the beginning of the school year. Back when the 3 of you were closer. You suck it in the keyhole and turned it before opening the door, the sight inside scaring you.

Yamaguchi had his face scrunched up in pleasure, his cock buried deep inside Riko’s cunt. She was on her hands and knees with her back bent at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable. Your eyes went wide as the sound of skin slapping against skin was all you could hear. Suddenly, you felt hot. Very hot. You couldn’t breathe either. It was like you had just run a marathon in 90-degree heat. It was awful.

You wished you had just turned around and ran before Yamaguchi saw you, you really wished you did. But you were frozen in place. It was like the summer heat had dragged you down to the fiery pits of hell.

Eventually, when he did see you, his face flushed even brighter than it had been before. He quickly pulled out of her, hurriedly dressing the two of them while you just stood in place. How long did you stand there? You had no idea.

You should have been happy for your friend; you really wish you could have been. You wished you could have just said something funny and walked away like nothing happened. If only your 5-year love for the man wasn’t in the way. Without it, this would have just been an awkward experience, not an utterly heartbreaking one. You didn’t have a right to be upset either, you knew that; you didn’t have a claim over him. But it still hurt. It hurt more than anything else. Like a sunburn after a long day at the beach.

“A-ah! (Y/n)! I didn’t know you were coming over!” Yamaguchi laughed out awkwardly, finally pulling up his pants. Of course he wasn’t hurting like you. He was in a relationship. You wanted him to be happy. Its what he deserved after making you feel so happy, so cared about for so many years.

So, what else could you do other than you force a smile onto your face. You could wallow in your own emotions another time.

“Yeah! I just needed to um.. grab something! I didn’t know you were in here.” You said, fumbling with your words a bit, “But I see you’re busy! I’ll head out!” You quickly closed the door, leaning against the wall right next to it. You needed a moment to compose yourself before your walk back to your dorm. You didn’t want to burst out into tears in the middle of the campus for everyone to see.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, she’s just my friend from high school!”

“Just a friend? Why did she have a key to your place then? I know I locked the door.”

“Ah, you don’t have to be so worried about her, she’s like my little sister. Sometimes she needs my help with things.”

You wished you just left. Wished you just ran straight home. Wished the walls weren’t as thin as they were. Wished they weren’t standing so close to the door. Anything you could have wished on in that moment you did. Just a high school friend. Just a little sister. Not even one of his best friends. The words made you feel sick. Who cares if anyone saw you crying, you just needed to get out of there. You held a hand over your mouth as you practically ran home, afraid you might actually throw up if you didn’t.

Oh, how the summer stung.

---

You hadn’t left your dorm in days; you really shouldn’t have been as upset as you were. You didn’t have any right to. The most you ever did with poor Tadashi was hold his hand- even that wasn’t in any sort of romantic manor. But still, there you were. Heartbroken. It was only natural really, you knew he didn’t owe you anything, you knew you weren’t in a relationship. He could do whatever he wanted! But that didn’t stop it from hurting. You didn’t think it would ever really stop hurting.

It was on the fifth day that you decided you needed to do something. Something to forget. Go out to a party, get drunk, fuck some random guy. It didn’t matter. Maybe you just wanted to continue the destructive streak you already had going. Why not fuck around and loose your virginity? None of it mattered anyway. Not when the man you had loved since your first year in high school never even thought about loving you back.

Unrequited love was a bitch.

You decided that you needed to get over yourself, get over this pity party you were throwing. Maybe if you went out tonight you could get over him. Maybe then the summer bee sting would finally go away.

You didn’t have many clothes for going out, it wasn’t something you were really into. So, you tried your best to put together an outfit to make yourself feel appealing. Did your hair to make yourself feel pretty. Put on some makeup to feel a tad bit more confident. Even if your skills weren’t that great, it didn’t matter. You felt prettier then you had the whole week. That is what mattered. You didn’t really think guys cared how you dressed anyway, only what was underneath, so it didn’t really matter.

When you finally left the dorm and arrived at one of the various parties going on, the moon was high in the sky. The confidence you had walking to the building had all but vanished when you finally manouvered inside. The music was loud, people were sweaty, the place was a mess. But that didn’t matter right? All that mattered was getting over your spring, some other girls Yamaguchi Tadashi.

After all, one thing that stays the same is the seasons changing.

You made your way over to the kitchen to grab a drink. You never really liked the idea of drinking, the smell making you feel sick, but you needed to let loose. That’s what alcohol was for anyway, wasn’t it? That what all the teen movies you watched as you cried into your pillow told you. It was really childish of you, but you had never gone through heart break before. Maybe you were just a late bloomer. Maybe this was the moment that would make you mature. As you took your first sip, your nose scrunched up, but you kept downing it.

Eventually you made your way to the dance floor, the alcohol taking a firm hold on your system as you finally let loose. You relaxed as you swayed to the music and laughed easily. Your consciousness was still there, you were still clear enough to make decisions. A certain wall had just otherwise broken down.

A guy came up behind you and began grinding against your ass as you danced. You giggled and turned around to face him. He wasn’t unattractive, far from it. If you were going to do this now would be the time to.

“Hey.” You smiled at him. He smiled back.

Little did you know, the source of one of your problems was also there that night, also there trying to drink away his feelings. He was so stupid. Tsukishima knew very well he was. All this time and he never realized his liked you more than just his idiot best friend. And now that he did know, he knew he had no chance with you. Every emotion he didn’t understand surrounding you from all those years came rushing at him tenfold. He didn’t like the dog because he was jealous, he didn’t like the confession letters because he didn’t like the idea other men could have you.

He loved you smile, he didn’t think you looked stupid, he thought you looked adorable. The stuffed animals that he once made fun of you having were now the cutest thing. The reason your food was so good was because you made it, not just because you were a good cook. He was pretty sure you could feed him garbage and he would love it all because you were the one who gave it to him.

He knew why he didn’t like talking about Tadashi with you- it was because he wished he was Tadashi. He wanted to be the one you loved and cared about. But now he knew that that would never happen, all because you loved someone other then him.

He had been avoiding both you and Yamaguchi since all of those realizations. He tried quick fucks to make up for the feelings you left him with, but nothing helped. He was there again that night to try to do the same thing. To look for an easy pussy to stick his dick into as an attempt to get over you. It was better that he did, for all three of you.

That was when he saw you on the dance floor, with some other man’s filthy hands all over you. Hands that should be his. At first he honestly didn’t really believe it was you, he just thought it was whatever drink he was having that night making him delusional. You wouldn’t be at a party like this. You couldn’t be. But when he inched closer and closer, he realized it had to be you. You were standing there in the skimpiest skirt he thought he had ever seen and thigh-highs, with some guy biting disgusting marks into your neck.

When the man whispered something in your ear, you blushed. Tsuki’s face was red for other reasons. He saw the guy take your small hand into his own and start to lead you up the stairs. Wait, no. He couldn’t let that happen. He shouldn’t let that happen. You should be with him. He listened to the thoughts in his head and rushed over to you, pulling you against his chest. The other man stepped back in an offended manor.

“Huh? What are you doing here?” You mumbled out, a pout forming on your lips, your cheeks pushed out just the way he liked. It was so cute. He loved it so much. But right now was not the time to get caught up in his own feelings.

“It doesn’t matter. What are you doing?” He said in a stern manor, glaring down at you dangerously. You giggled and stood on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear. His aggressive deminior didn’t really mean anything.

“I’m gonna get fucked! I think this guy likes me!” You giggled; your cheeks dusted with rose. He scoffed in annoyance, could you really be that stupid?

“No, you’re not. You’re drunk.”

“Hush! I’m not drunk! Perfectly sane!” You smiled, while the other man stared at the two of you awkwardly.

“Hey uh… I’m sorry if this is your girl. I had no clue… Um… I’m gonna go… I don’t wanna be a part of your weird jealous fuck… I’ve been roped into that one too many times before, and it’s never a happy ending.” The stranger said, before awkwardly trotting away and grabbing himself another drink. You whined and pushed at Tsuki’s chest, sad your fuck to get over Tadashi had now walked away and seemingly had no interest.

“What did you do that for?!” You whined and squirmed around cutely like you were actually disappointed. He really hoped you weren’t.

“We’re leaving.” He murmured bluntly, picking you up and carrying you outside of the building. You squirmed the whole time, constantly berating him about putting you down and how he ruined your night. He didn’t listen though, only carried you back to his dorm, most likely waking up all of his neighbors in the process due to your voice.

Only after you finally made it inside did he put you down, dropping you on his bed. He turned his back to you, scavenging through his dresser.

“I cant believe you! And when I was this close-“ He interrupted you, handing you some of his clothes to change into, “What the fuck are these for?” You said, holding them up and shaking them slightly for dramatic effect.

He only sighed and sat down at his desk chair, “You don’t see me as one, but I am a man, (y/n).” You only looked at him confused, but he sighed again, opting to not explain himself further, “You’re staying the night. You should be comfortable.” He turned around in his chair, now facing away from you. Oddly, you missed his gold, piercing stare.

“Oh, so just cause you’re a guy you cant keep your dick in your pants?”

“That’s not what I meant you idiot.”

“That’s what it seems like. I was hoping to have that effect on someone else you know! Not you!”

“I know.”

“Then why the fuck did you take me away?!”

“You were going to regret it. Can you please just shut the fuck up?” He signed, rubbing his temples. It seemed like you were really itching to get in a fight that night. He kind of deserved it, he didn’t have any right to drag you away. What you wanted to do was your choice, he shouldn’t have any say in it. But he couldn’t just stand there and watch as you got taken from him- even if he decided that you would never like him in that way.

You scoffed and stood up, “I’m leaving.” You didn’t want to go.

“Don’t...” You didn’t expect him to say that. You expected him to laugh at you and say see if I care. Did he… care..? Maybe, you didn’t know. It didn’t matter though, as you listened to her stern, dominating voice, you sat back down on the bed, just as he wanted. You stained into his muscular back with confusion and annoyance.

“What do you want Tsukishima.” You asked, well, more so stated. And he really didn’t have an answer for you. He wanted you to fall for him instead of that green haired twig who couldn’t see the amazing thing right in front of him. For once he wanted to be in a dumb romcom where he was the guy the girl actually fell for instead of just the supportive best friend. He wanted you. He wasn’t going to say that though, opting to just change the subject entirely.

“Why were you going to do that?” He questioned, still not able to bring himself to turn around and face you.

“Do what?”

“Fuck him. It wasn’t to.. You weren’t just trying to make yourself more experienced for.. for him right?” He was having trouble finding the exact right words to say. However, when a sudden sharp laugh (a laugh that he loved) moved past your lips he whipped around quickly, watching you almost keel over in laughter.

“Him?” You laughed, “You mean Yamaguchi? Hell no! I was trying to get over that cabbage patch kid.” You calmed yourself down, while Tsuki just stared at you, now it was his turn to be confused.

He had no clue about the events that happened between you and Tadashi, so you explained, “I know, finally right? I walked in on him fucking that chick. I threw myself a pity party and now here I am, trying to get over him before you so rudely pulled- no sorry, carried my ass away.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, you were finally trying to get over him? He knew he should’ve felt bad, your heart had been broken and he wasn’t there to help, but the only thought going through his head were thanks to whatever god there was.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, yeah, here comes all the teasing and mocking, I know the drill. You can spare me from it.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“Haha yeah the jokes all on me- what?” You were bamboozled! You had never heard him say those words before, even when he made you cry from mocking you about your creepy pasta phase in high school.

“That sucks, I know you really liked him.”

“I… Yeah.. Yeah it does suck.” You pulled your legs up to your chest, not really knowing how to react in this situation. He had never been this emotionally open with you, never really showed you any form of empathy. You kind of wanted to cry, let your emotions out now that you finally had someone to actually listen to you. All he did was nod, trying not to pay any mind to your pink panties that had now been exposed due to your new position.

“Get changed okay?” He said gently. It was a tone you weren’t used to hearing from him just yet. You nodded your head before he turned back around in his chair. You took that as a sign to get started, pulling off your top and exchanging it for his bigger, comfier volleyball jersey he had handed to you earlier. The sweats he gave you to wear were huge as well, but they were really your only option. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm anymore, it was much too hot there. Summer emotions were strong and evident. But Tsuki’s room, it was cool like fall.

Oh, how you were soon going to love fall.

When you finished changing, you perched yourself back on his bed, nestled into the corner with all the pillows. His bed was comfortable, maybe you wouldn’t mind this sleepover.

“You can look now, I finished.” When he turned around, he should’ve known what to expect. However, he was not anticipating the effect you had on him. If he thought you looked amazing in that skirt, you looked even better in his clothes.

He wouldn’t say anything about it though, you didn’t need that right now.

You fiddled with the bottom of your shirt; things normally weren’t this awkward between you. But then again, you two hadn’t talked for the last couple of weeks, and the last time you did you were begging him to teach you how to kiss.

“So,” You decided to try to make some form of conversation at least, “Why were you out tonight?” You smiled slightly at him as he took his glasses off, “You normally just like to say home and study.”

Same reason you were. “The rest of the team went to it; I just went for them” You nodded in understanding.

“You can come over here, you know? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I wont bite unless threatened.” You smiled, patting the spot next to you in bed.

He hesitated for a moment before you sweetened the deal, “I’ll watch your lame volleyball games with you.” At that he stood up and slid next to you in bed. You couldn’t help but cuddle up to him, resting your head gently against his shoulder, waiting for a nudge off of him that never came. He pulled his phone out and pulled up a game for the two of you to watch. This was nice, this was peaceful. It was like autumn. Your autumn.

After awhile of listening to him talk about the game, you fell asleep nuzzled up to his neck.

—-

In the following months you and Tsuki grew closer- a lot closer, much to his delight. Those late-night talks came back and eventually morphed into sleepovers. Sleepovers where you always found yourself cuddled up to him by morning. Eventually, he even starting initiating affection in his own, albeit rough way. It was relaxing, he was so nice. Well, not literally. He still made fun of you, which resulted in you making fun of him back.

But on those nights where he would be softer and open up to you, it would make you so happy.

Eventually, after seeing you and Tsuki walk around on campus, Yamaguchi realized the friendship he had been neglecting with the two of you. He started hanging out more and more, but the shift in your trio’s dynamic was obvious. You and Tsukishima seemed a lot closer then you two had before, which Tadashi only saw as a good thing. He was happy his friends were finally closer! He smiled at the thought of you three remaining friends even after college.

He was still clueless about people’s emotions towards him, always had been, always will be.

So, your friendship with the boys was back in full bloom. You were excited about it, finally realizing how relaxing it could be to spend time with your friends without stupid emotions in the way.

That was until emotions did, in fact, start to get in the way again.

They always did.

Yamaguchi’s girlfriend broke up with him, and of course, who did he come running to other then you? You let him cry into your arms. You had to. You wanted to make your best friend feel better, but that “making him feel better” did not include him kissing you, at least on your end it didn’t. To him though, it did.

In the middle of his shaking and crying he looked up to you with his red puffy doe eyes. Before you knew it his lips were on yours. You weren’t expecting it, you didn’t know what to do. The moment you had been waiting your whole life for had just presented itself, and all you could think about was Tsukishima and how he kissed you, how he made you feel so good with nothing but his tongue.

You pulled away and stood up, apologizing quickly, and leaving your dorm. Yamaguchi sat there confused as well. Why did he kiss you? He didn’t have the slightest clue either. He was probably just so upset, maybe looking for a rebound. You shouldn’t be his rebound though. He was probably just confused. That’s what the both of you told yourselves anyway. He couldn’t have actually realized his feelings for you in that moment. Tsukishima would’ve told you he didn’t deserve to.

When you arrived at the door, you were hot again. Summer was back and you didn’t know why. But, Tsukishima could cool you down, he always managed to. When he opened the door and saw your distraught figure, he did nothing but open his arms. When you were upset you always seemed to want to be held. He didn’t get it, but making fun of you in that moment wouldn’t help.

You lunged into his arms and held him tight, burring your face in his shirt in an instant. He slowly picked you up, closed the door, and maneuvered over to his bed to sit the two of you down on it. You needed a friend right now.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” You stilled for a moment, taking a long hesitant breath before speaking. You wanted to try to remain as calm as possible.

“Y-Yams he.. his girlfriend broke up with him… He kissed me…” Tsukishima tensed up at this and started to rub circles into your back.

“Oh, he did? Dream come then?” You were gonna leave him again weren’t you?

You only shook your head, “I-I….I don’t think so…” you managed to squeak out, “I don’t know what I’m feeling… I just know I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Tsuki looked at you confused before sighing, now wasn’t the time to have a talk about your potential feelings for him. You just needed to rest.

“Emotions are shitty aren’t they?” He sighed out, you nodded and relaxed against him. Hopefully, you wouldn’t leave him for his idiot best friend. Not this time.

“T-Tsuki… I know I’m being really selfish right now but… I want you to make the pain go away.. I-I don’t think anyone else can do it..” You looked up at him with your eyes watering. It felt wrong to kiss Yamaguchi, like you were enacting a sin that god forbit you from. It felt dirty and wrong.

“What do you want me to do?” He sighed, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. It was sad how easily he gave into you.

“I-I don’t know.. I just feel dirty.. I feel wrong..” You said, bottom lip quivering slightly. He was honestly amazed at this. How could he make you feel like this? Why did kissing Yamaguchi make you feel dirty? Why did you think he could cleanse you? He shouldn’t act. He really shouldn’t. But your lips, they were so soft and inexperienced he kissed you.. would they be the same as last time? Would you be so quick to make a sound? He wanted to know, and he wanted to make you feel better.

So, he leaned down and kissed you. You didn’t pull away, didn’t scream in disgust. Rather, it seemed to be exactly what you wanted. A soft mewl of approval you let out shot straight through him. You learned into his touch, finally starting to cool down. This is exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed. You need Tsukishima. It finally dawned on you that that’s why you were so repulsed by Yamaguchi kissing you, it was because you didn’t want anyone other then Tsukishima to be doing that kind of thing to you.

Once the kiss finally broke, a string of saliva connected your mouths. You were panting, your head dizzy from the overwhelming emotions. Tsukishima’s eyes just stared down at you, lust clouding his vision as his breathes labored slightly. He wanted to take things further, but he refused to let himself do that just yet. He had already indulged himself too much, but you looked so happy.

“Th-thank you..” You finally breathed out, “I-I.. thank you..” you mumbled, collapsing against the blonde’s chest. The effect he had on you was unbelievable, but it filled you with such pure and utter satisfaction.

He smiled down at you, a real genuine smile, “Get some sleep.” He told you, and you listened.

The following morning wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. When you woke up, he just held you against his chest. After a long talk that was much too sappy for Tsukishima’s liking, you two eventually decided to give dating a shot.

It scared you a little, you had to admit. You were nervous about your inexperience, most guys your age wouldn’t like that kind of thing right? But he reassured you, adding in a line making fun of you, calling you a baby to lighten the mood. He was happy. So happy. You both were.

This was right, it felt right.

As summer melted away into autumn, you found a new love, a new hope.

Maybe a new start wasn’t spring. Maybe a new start was Autumn after all.

Your fall, your Tsukishima. <3

Thank you all for reading!! Part 2 will be up at some point!! Have a lovely day <3

—masterlists

—rules/ requests

[castieltrash1]

dangerous territory → clint b.

gif credit (x)

summary → clint stays behind during a mission, leaving you alone with him in the avengers building. seeing him sprawled out on the comfy lounge room couch gives you some naughty ideas -- only adding to the tension your relationship already has.

word count → 6.7k (literally wtf)

warnings → i ignore the entirety of iw/endgame except for clint’s makeover, extreme sexual tension, smut; switch!fem!reader, switch!clint, couch sex, oral (both recieving), fingering, slight overstimulation, dirty talk, praise

a/n → literally idk if i should be ashamed or not but im Horny 4 Hawkeye!!! oopsie !! also there are like .3 smut fics for him on here and im determined to fix that

---

Quiet was not a word you’d use to describe the Avengers Facility.

In fact, with Steve’s loud orders, Bruce’s lab explosions, and Sam’s boisterous laughter -- not to mention the never-ending petty arguments that managed to revert the Avengers to 11th graders in their first debate club -- it was the farthest thing from quiet.

But, now, with zero disagreements and zero distractions, you’d been able to enjoy the building all to yourself. Almost. Of course, the one time you got to avoid a mission, you ended up falling into an even worse situation.

You’d covered for Wanda last mission, and she’d insisted on paying you back for the newest one. It wasn’t high stakes by any means, but the work itself had countless components and everyone who was nearby -- or at least on the planet -- had been called in to fill some role.  

Everyone, of course, except you. And Clint.

Suddenly the idea of being stuck in the Quinjet with everyone’s post-mission moodiness sounded very appealing. You could feel a headache growing as you wandered around the kitchen, doing anything and everything in your power to avoid him. He was not supposed to be here. Hell, he didn’t even like stepping foot in the place unless the world was in immediate danger.

Of course, you weren’t the only one to notice his odd attitude. Natasha gave him a confused look when he mentioned staying behind, but decidedly hadn’t commented, almost like she’d already pieced together the reason for Clint’s actions. Knowing her, she probably had. But, even Wanda shot a glance that worried you -- though you seemed to be the only one to catch her squinted green gaze before it disappeared. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what she saw in his mind.

Sure, you had a couple of ideas as to why he would choose to isolate himself with you, but you tried to not let those thoughts consume you. The others wouldn’t be back till midday tomorrow -- if all went well -- and you were not about to spend the next 36 hours soaking your panties with stupid fantasies.

Unfortunately, even when ignoring Clint, your mind was still focused on him. When you passed by the gym or shooting range, antsy to get your daily work in, one quick thought of seeing Clint’s arms -- tensed as he loaded his bow, muscles straining and eyes focused on his target -- was enough to have you quickly walking in the opposite direction.

But, now, as you make your way into the lounge to relax, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You have just as much of a right as Clint does to walk around whenever and wherever you please. In all honesty, you feel even more entitled considering you’re the one actually living in the tower (at least most of the time.)

He’s exactly where you expect him to be -- he may be fast and quiet on his feet, but you’ve been keeping tabs on him, for your own sake.

It’s a bit odd seeing a book instead of a bow in his hands, but you’re not entirely sure you should be focused on how his fingers wrap around the thin pages, thumbing the corners so gently--

“Done avoiding me, are you?”

Well, shit.

His gaze remains on his book -- though the very few pages he’s turned assures you he’s not paying attention to whatever riveting story Tony has stocked his shelves with.

“What are you talking about?” you ask. There’s a moment of temptation to take a seat next to him on the couch, as close as possible. To feel his strong arms around you, smell the raw masculine cologne he always wears a bit too much of -- heavy on his neck and sharp jaw that you know your lips could curl around so perfectly if given the chance.

You swallow heavily and take a seat in the chair across from him, sinking into the expensive fabric.

“Tony picks good furniture, right?” Clint sighs, book closing without so much as a dog-ear mark as he leans back.

It’s silent for a second, and you’re entirely sure you’ve missed a part of the conversation during your mini black-out, but Clint doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, waiting patiently for your answer. You consider it a small win and accept the change in topic with an awkward laugh.

“Yeah. Didn’t think price made such a big difference.” There’s a firmness to the chair that keeps you from sinking, and mentally, you consider if it’d be strong enough for other activities. “How much you wanna bet he spent on each of these chairs?” you question, genuinely curious. “I gotta guess at least two grand.”

Clint’s cool eyes glint playfully. “Three,” he challenges with a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. “Though, you should really try this couch. Definitely my favorite thing here.”

There’s just a hint of suggestion in his tone -- the kind that you’d miss if you weren’t trained in reading people. It’s not unexpected, though. You’d have to be a fool to not recognize the exact same longing stares, the same lingering touches that Clint offers you. But, that’s what makes it all more intimidating. It’s an unspoken thing, and at this point, that’s what feels most convenient -- even if your lonely nights spent moaning his name are growing far too common for comfort.

Still, you can’t exactly ignore him, and his eyes follow you closely as you make your way to the couch, falling into the comfy cushions with a huff.

“Wow.” You laugh. “No wonder you’ve been spending so much time down here.”

Clint raises an eyebrow. “So you have been paying me some attention. Interesting.”

If he notices you shift as far to the other end of the couch as possible, he doesn’t mention it.

“Don’t take it personally, Barton,” you huff. “I’m used to keeping an eye on everyone around here.” It’s not entirely a lie, but he manages to see right through the half-truth regardless.

“So you avoid everyone, then?” There’s no hurt or misunderstanding in his voice, not even confusion. He knows what you’re doing, knows why you can’t bear to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back onto the couch.

He just chuckles, a low sound that makes your stomach clench unconsciously. You expect him to keep pressing you, work you up until you spill your guts, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even say a word as you hear the rustling of paper and feel the couch move slightly as he shifts.

You turn your head towards him and open one eye, then both as they go wide. Clint has taken on a whole new level of comfortable, feet perched on the coffee table and one arm resting on the back of the couch while his free hand flips through the same first few pages as before.

In all honesty, you suddenly find yourself happy that Steve and Tony are gone -- otherwise they’d be scolding Clint for his manners, and most definitely not ogling his firm legs in those tight, black jeans.

You drag your gaze back up his body, stopping near the hem of his shirt, where his new position has allowed for the fabric to ride up his stomach. It’s just a sliver of skin but the image is enough to make your heart race. There’s a faint dip in the muscled hip line leading to his jeans, and if you stare extra hard, you can see the light trail of thin hairs disappearing under the fabric.

Swallowing heavily, you quickly look back at Clint’s face, holding back a gasp as he stares back at you.

“So,” you fill the silence before he can, mentally thanking Natasha for her training on keeping your composure. “How’s that book of yours?”

Clint just grins for a second -- you both know he’s caught you. “It’s alright. Not the most interesting thing in the building right now, though.”

You gulp. “Yeah… The place is big. Lots to explore. I don’t think I’ve even seen every room--”

“I have a feeling you know that’s not what I mean,” Clint cuts you off with a chuckle, and you send him a challenging glare.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you scoff.

He hums, before his tongue peeks out to swipe across his bottom lip. “You’re sounding awfully like a broken record today.” His icy, pale eyes return to his book, and you watch as he lifts his thumb to his wet lips, tongue darting out the lick the tip. You can practically feel the action, and almost whine in disappointment when his hand returns to flip the page.

Clint is downright grinning at this point, and you know he’s taking in every breath, shift, and blink of yours. “But, I know you’re not actually confused,” he continues. “In fact, I’d argue you like this game of ours a bit more than you should.”

You know if you brush it off again, he’ll drop it. He’s too nice to make you uncomfortable, and his statement hangs in the air with a heavy weight.

“You know, Barton?” you shift from your spot on the couch, eliminating a good chunk of the space between you and him. “I think you’re smarter than most people give you credit for.” He raises a brow, and you would believe his undisturbed look if you didn’t see his fingers twitch against the spine of the forgotten book.

“Tell Nat that,” he jokes, and you grin. Seeing that little crack in his facade, the way he fills the conversation with a joke, the discreet but heavy swallow he tries to hide -- it’s all enough to power you to move closer, until there are mere centimeters between you two.

“Hmmm, I don’t think I’ll be telling Natasha anything from this conversation of ours.” Keeping your attention on the slight tense of his jaw, you push the book from his hands, and he immediately drops his feet from the table to discard it in their place.

You pause for a second, glancing at Clint’s lap then back at him, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and grab your hip.

“Get over here already,” he groans, both arms wrapping around your waist to situate you in his lap. His hands are warm and firm and everything you could have ever imagined, and you automatically roll your hips down onto him. There’s a pleased moan from you both, and his own hips jolt in a way that sends you even closer to him, until your chests are touching.

He immediately dives for your neck, scruff tickling the sensitive skin as he breathes you in deeply. “I gotta admit,” he murmurs, letting his lips graze the bottom of your jaw in the most sinful way, “you look so much better sitting here than standing around in the kitchen.”

You drag your fingers through the long hair on the back of his head, tugging it playfully. “You’ve been watching me, Barton?”

He hums, squeezing you just as teasingly. “I do a lot of staring when it comes to you, babe.”

You pull him from your neck by his hair, and he looks up at you with the most mischievous glint in his eyes. The nickname makes you undeniably flustered, but you force the embarrassment away.

“I don’t know about you, but I think that’s what you call creepy,” you mumble, leaning down so Clint can feel your words against his own lips. He immediately darts forward, but you pull back with a sly grin, watching his eyes darken at the action.

“I think,” he growls, catching you off guard as he pushes you back onto the couch, making you jostle as you try not to fall off the edge. He steadies you with a large hand, and you only jolt again when he uses his free hand to spread your legs, caging you in as his hips drop between your parted thighs. “You’d be a hypocrite for saying that.” He drops back to your neck, and you can feel his smile before his teeth sink into your skin lightly -- just enough to make you gasp.

He continues to litter your neck with kisses, and you watch in awe as his toned arm tenses by the side of your head -- the thick black lines of ink rolling as his muscles flex.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you taunt, back arching as his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to right below your chin. “You gonna fuck me?”

Clint bites the edge of your jaw in retaliation to your words, before he pulls back just enough to stare at you with a lustful gaze.

“Not yet, baby. Not that easily.” One of his hands trails up the front of your thigh, before it busies itself with the hem of your shirt. You try to hide your disappointment, but Clint notices it, of course, and just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on letting you leave this couch anytime soon. You’ve made me wait long enough for this… I’m gonna take my time with you.”

He finally presses his lips to yours, and you hungrily reach and tug until he’s as close as possible -- until you can feel the denim of his jeans scraping deliciously against your thighs as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth. It’s messy and entirely uncalculated, and your nails catch in the wrinkles of the back of his shirt while his own fingers tug impatiently at the bottom of yours.

You part from him for a second, and his own greedy mouth follows yours, only managing to press against the side of your lips. “You act like you’ve made this easy for me,” you retort, and his chest rumbles against yours as he chuckles.

“Oh honey, I think I’ve made it quite obvious I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day you walked in here.”

“Clearly, not obvious enough.”

Clint huffs, warm breath hitting your cheek. “What’d you want me to do? Huh?” He shifts so his words make their way directly to your ear, each syllable accentuated with a puff of hot air. With him this close, neck just below your nose, you can take in the heavy smell of that sharp cologne you love so much.

His calloused fingers dip beneath your shirt, but instead of the obvious trail up, his hand trails down to play with the hem of your shorts. “Tug these little things off in front of everyone? Show them all how worked up you get me wearing these? Is that what you want?”

Your hips lift in a silent plea, and you groan. “They’re comfortable.”

“Maybe for you, but I find myself very uncomfortable when you wear them.” He snickers, and if you weren’t so turned on, you’re sure you’d roll your eyes. Only Clint Barton could make a joke about untimely hard-ons during a time like this.

“Then why don’t you take them off?” you groan, and he shakes his head while muttering something about you being bossy.

Still, his words betray him as he tugs the fabric down your legs, as slowly as possible while his eyes drink in the new area of exposed skin. “What part about taking my time with you did you not understand?” The corner of his lips tug in that mischievous way of his, and you have a sneaking feeling his patience is as fleeting as your own.

Proving your point, Clint tosses your shorts over the back of the couch with a grin, then pushes you further up the cushions. You’re almost sitting, shoulder blades knocking the arm of the sofa while your legs bend at the knee to accompany Clint, who scoots back. It’s the perfect and most disastrous angle to be at as you have to both feel and watch his deft fingers trail up from your knee.

You’re a hundred percent sure the effects of your arousal are extremely obvious, but he doesn’t comment on the wet patch of your panties -- though you see his eyes focus on the area between your legs for a second too long before his gaze flickers back to your thighs.

His calloused fingers trail the edge of fabric around your legs, rough skin providing a type of friction you can’t begin to explain. His touch is fleeting and he changes the amount of pressure with every swipe of his thumb, always pushing just enough to let you know he’s holding you down. That you can’t escape him -- as if you’d even think of trying to do so.

“Your legs are so sexy, you know that?”

You let out some type of pleased whine, a sound that Clint relishes as he tightens his grip on your thighs. “Make the prettiest sounds, too,” he continues, and then his fingers are right there. One hand holds your left leg down, while the other covers your panty-covered core. His thumb rubs into your desperate, throbbing clit, and you use your little amount of freedom to push your hips up, wanting, needing more.

Clint immediately presses you back down, and you watch his tattoos shift just slightly as he adds more weight to his hand on your thigh.

“Please, please.” You revert to begging at your lack of movement, losing all shame in regard to your desire. It’s obvious you need Clint -- any excuses or lies from before long forgotten. You need his movements to speed up, the slow circles of his thumb providing barely enough friction.

He just chuckles, but relents a little and you downright purr as the thin fabric of your underwear drags against your tingling nerve endings. It’s impossible to move under Clint’s weight, but all the muscles in your lower half flex and twitch as they desperately search for release and relief.

“How about…” Clint trails off, fingers moving upward to grab the waistline of your panties, “we get these off?”

You’re sure if you nod any faster you might make yourself dizzy, and Clint just smirks in that knowing way. That way that lets you know he has you right where he wants you. Right where he’s been waiting to have you.

The article of clothing is soon flung behind his shoulder just like your forgotten shorts -- and you can only faintly remind yourself to make sure you grab everything before the others return. Though, at this point, you think anyone could walk in on Clint between your legs and you’d still be begging him to make you cum -- audience or not.

“Fucking Christ,” Clint groans, palms sliding between your thighs to spread them, giving him a full view of your glistening core. “I swear, you’re gonna kill me.” Seeing his flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and greedy fingers, you’re not sure you can reject that statement.

He removes his hands for just a second, but you don’t dare close your legs, and he has the audacity to wink. Before your mind can even process the action, though, he’s pulling his shirt off, arms crossing over his chest as they show off in their full glory. Hips, stomach, chest, arms -- they’re all exposed so quickly and your eyes drink in the features as fast as they can. Clint throws the shirt to the side -- you have a feeling he’s utilizing his perfect aim to create a clothing pile -- but you just stare at his shoulder, where the ink spreads to areas you’ve never had the chance to see before. The olive green accents contrast against his tanned skin, which has gained a light sheen from the sweat of his arousal.

As he leans back down, Ronin’s portrait stares you dead in the eyes -- quite literally. If you didn’t know the deeper meaning, you’re sure you could mistake the skull as a danger warning to the man pressing a kiss against the inside of your knee.

Short hairs chafe your legs as Clint makes himself comfortable, pressing his jaw against you. When his hot breath dances over your center you almost squeeze your thighs together, but he’s there to push them apart with a chuckle.

“No, no…” He pulls away barely, and you take in a deep breath to calm yourself. “You’re gonna give me what I want, ok?” His fingers are gentle, and so are his eyes when he glances up to you. He’s hopeful, pleading almost, but stays respectful. “If that’s ok, of course.”

You almost want to cry, because how could he think any differently, but you just nod. “Please Clint, touch me.”

He sends you a lopsided grin, and then he’s right there, pressing a kiss against your clit. The feeling is completely different from before, lips slick and soft unlike his rough thumb. All the air in your lungs leaves your body as you let out a sigh of relief, body finally relaxing as it gets the touch it needs.

You reach down and your nails scratch his scalp lightly before you grip his hair in a tight hold. He nuzzles against your hand and groans against you, and the feeling of control makes your blood run hot through your veins. One of the most powerful men on Earth is between your legs, sucking softly on your clit like it's the only thing he could ever want.

He traces circles on your thighs with his coarse fingers as he warms you up with gentle licks and the occasional curl of his lips around your most sensitive area. You let him have the satisfaction of your spread thighs, but you periodically tug on his tousled locks to remind him that he’s the one between your legs. It’s the perfect balance of dominance -- the type that makes your head spin and your eyes roll back into your head.

Clint presses another kiss to your clit before traveling lower and the intimacy of the action makes your skin flush. You can tell he’s not going to be holding back for much longer though, if the desperation of his descent is any indication. His fingers join his attack as he spreads your folds, tongue dragging the entirety of your core.

“So good, baby. So fucking good,” he mutters, mouth impatient as he covers as much skin as he can at once. It’s fast and downright dirty as he presses his tongue into you, eliciting a groan from your parted, panting lips. You’re dripping at this point, and he laps up the mix of saliva and arousal with a yearning thirst.

It’s all so overwhelming. His fingers are digging into your skin -- likely to leave faint marks -- and the scruff framing his jaw scrapes and leaves your skin burning, while the softer locks between your fingers are a comfort to steady you.

The heat building in your body is entirely unbelievable, and your back digs into the couch as you arch into Clint, desperate for all he’ll be willing to give you. You press him closer, and he moans at the power in your hands -- the control you have despite him hovering over you. It’s a mental trip for you both, your stomach and pelvic muscles clenching as they react to his generous, eager giving.

“God, Clint, gonna cum.” The words barely feel like they’re coming from your own body, jaw slack as you tremble in his hold. His index finger presses into you slowly, while his thumb replaces his tongue on your clit. The change of stimulation has you reeling, your grip on Clint loosening as you feel his warm words against you.

“Kinda the point, sweetheart.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, but you know Clint is smirking -- you can practically hear it in his voice.

His finger curls to press against your front wall, and he rubs it gently once, twice, before he lets the digit drag out, sinking in again even slower. The leisurely thrusts continue as his tongue returns to circle your clit, his cocky words from before silenced as he puts his mouth to work. Your breath grows heavier, heart rate increasing with every second. His middle finger joins the first with a steady push, and you clench desperately as they curl and press and rub and reduce you to nothing but putty.

You’re right there and Clint knows it -- somehow he knows it. His fingers move faster, harder, and his lips wrap around your clit with even greater determination. There’s a shift, fingertips grazing the perfect spot as he sucks desperately and it’s over. You’re crying out his name, thighs shaking and you clench and flutter around his never-ceasing fingers. There’s a moment where all senses leave you and all you can feel is Clint, and the spread of warmth between your legs. Your ears ring and your own moans become faint background sounds.

And then, you’re pulling his head back, his tongue still trying to work your sensitive clit. He fights your tug on his hair but you must be begging because he finally relents with a huff. You can hear his breathing, and you feel his shift as he leans back over you, fingers still working you through your high.

“Look at me,” he demands, and his free hand drags down your cheek. “C’mon, open your eyes.” He forcefully grabs your chin, and your eyes open too quickly for your mind to process. It’s all so bright and you have to blink away the splotches of color coating your vision. Clint takes up the entirety of your view, lips wet and eyes dark. “There you go, baby.” He’s grinning and panting and his fingers are still fucking moving.

You whimper and glance down -- as much as his grip on your jaw will allow -- and the view of his tattooed arm between your thighs, veins pulsing as he fingers you is imprinted in your mind permanently. It’s a never-ending high that goes on for a second too long before Clint finally, finally eases his fingers from you. They’re practically dripping with your release, and he wastes no time bringing them to his glossy mouth.

It’s hypnotic to watch as his lips close around his fingers, nostrils flaring as he sucks them eagerly. They come out clean, and his chest rumbles with a groan. “Can’t get enough of your taste. Fuck.”

It takes a second for you to catch your breath, chest heaving and shirt clinging to sweaty skin. But, there’s finally a moment where your legs feel somewhat solid, and you take advantage of the opportunity, bending your leg to put the bottom of your foot on Clint’s bare chest.

He shoots you a confused but intrigued look, and you respond with a lopsided grin as you push him backward, until he’s the one stumbling to find a spot against the arm of the couch. Faintly, you consider the move would be much sexier with a pair of heels digging into his skin, but this will have to suffice for now. Maybe next time -- if there is a next time, of course.

“Now, what are you up to, baby girl?” Clint is practically vibrating with excitement as you gather the strength to push yourself off the couch, ignoring the slight twitch of your exerted thighs.

“Take your pants off,” you say, with little shame. “Now.”

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen someone get undressed so quickly and the hastiness of Clint’s actions leave him with very little coordination. It takes him three tries to get his belt undone, and he pokes himself with the metal prong when his eyes return to glance at you.

Raising a brow, you put your hands on your hips, and he speeds up. The button and zipper take him twice as long, but the sound when he finally tosses his belt and jeans off to the side is well worth the wait.

He licks his lips, looking up at you -- waiting, watching. Your earlier thoughts regarding his legs are heightened tenfold as you take in his toned thighs and hard cock in-between. He’s thick, the bulge pressing against his boxer-briefs making your heart skip a beat. The mere idea of him stretching you open has you growing too impatient for what you have planned.

“Keep going.” You swallow and hope your voice doesn’t sound too shaky.

Clint’s quick fingers make work of the fabric, and you focus on finishing yourself off. You pull your shirt off and let it drop to your feet before your hands move to unhook your bra. You’re barely sliding the straps down your arms when you hear Clint huff, and you look back to him.

“I wanted to do that,” he almost whines, chest puffing.

You roll your eyes but laugh, and toss your bra to him. He catches it with a wink, before throwing it behind him. Immediately, his gaze drags over your chest, excruciatingly slow. You know he’s taking in every inch, every natural mark that decorates your torso. Normally, you’d feel odd being examined so closely while still being at a decent distance -- but Clint is observant and his eyes are hungry.

Finally, his dark eyes reconnect with yours. “You gonna come sit or should I just grab you?” His tone is playful and daring, but you hear the hint of arousal that suggests he wouldn’t be opposed to tugging you into his arms. You don’t have time for games anymore, though, so you stand between Clint’s legs, and he pats his thigh playfully.

“Hmm…” You bite your lip and shake your head, eyes glistening with mischief. “Not yet…”

You make your descent to your knees perfectly paced, fluttering your lashes as you look up to Clint from between his thighs. He cusses and his arms fall limply to his side as he resigns himself to the torture he knows you’ll be sure to deliver.

“I thought you wanted to take your time,” you tease, fingers sliding up his thigh. Your nails against his skin have him tensing, muscles quivering.

He groans, and tosses his head back. “That was before I made you cum. Just wanna fuck you now -- make you shake again.”

You pinch him. “Sweet-talking will get you nowhere, Barton. You should know that.” But, you still let your palm graze over his hard cock, twitching at your touch. He’s firm and warm, and when your fingers wrap around his length, you realize how deliciously thick he is, filling your grasp fully. The length is there too, just enough to not be intimidating, but the girth has your core throbbing.

“Fuck, Clint,” you groan, giving a slow jerk of your wrist. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

He’s pulsing in your hand, skin flushed and precum beginning to drip from the head of his cock. It coats your hand on the second stroke, easing the drag. Soon enough, he’s practically glistening, and your mouth waters. You have to taste him.

He calls your name, voice trembling, as your tongue darts out to flatten against his tip. “Oh God, please.” He’s flushed, from his cheeks to his tensing thighs, and you’d grin if you weren’t taking him deeper into your mouth. Another part of the burning, fervid desire deep in your veins lights up as your lips wrap around him -- tongue greedy for more as it laps everything it can reach. A growl reverberates through his entire body, and the sound makes your thighs clench.

You spare him a glance, and he looks destroyed. Sweat gathers on his forehead and the veins in his arm pulse as he grips the cushions to stay steady. Sane. Calm.

His knuckles are white and you relieve them by grabbing his left hand in your own, thumb rubbing over the back of his palm. He’s squeezing you like you’re his lifeline, and you reward him with your free hand around his base.

“Fuck fuck, I’ll cum too fast with you doing that,” Clint grunts, and you watch his chest heave as he tries to steady his breathing.

You pull off him with a line of spit, breaking it with your hand as you use the saliva to glide your fingers. He’s still throbbing, and you trace his underside vein with your wet thumb. “I thought that was the point, right?” You repeat his words from earlier with a grin, pressing a kiss against his thigh as your hand speeds up. He’s so close and he needs it so badly, but he finally pulls his hand from yours to grab your moving wrist.

“Not until I fuck you.” He pants, and begrudgingly removes your hold from his cock. “And a couple times, at the very least.”

Your heart races at the mere thought of as many rounds as you can handle, with Clint making you cum again and again. Still, you stand slowly, silently hoping he’ll push you back to your knees and cum down your throat.

But he doesn’t. He watches closely as you straighten out, and you quickly move to straddle him. “Fine, but you’ll let me ride you, understood?” Your thighs brush over him with the lightest touch, and with just one solid movement, you could have him sinking into you. But, you wait. You watch as he swallows heavily, eyes hooded.

Clint gives you a lopsided smile. “No complaints here, babe.” And with that, you reach down to hold his length, pressing the tip against your clenching, wet, core. He gasps, but you shift just slightly, until he bumps your clit. It’s too much and too little all at once, and you let out a soft cry as he jerks upward, precum coating the swollen nub. You reward yourself with one more drag down from your clit before letting the head of his cock push into you.

You’re immediately clenching around his length, and Clint’s calloused fingertips dig into your hips as he helps steady you. It only takes a couple breaths and a slow spread of your thighs to take him fully, arousal coating his cock quickly. He barely holds himself back from rutting into you right away, but you rock your hips and grip his shoulders regardless.

“Fuck,” he half-groans, half-whimpers. “You’re so fucking wet.”

Your nails dig into his skin as you roll again, letting out an incoherent babble of his name as your clit gains friction from his own warm body. You can feel your own wetness dripping down your thigh onto his, and it has you shuddering. It’s so dirty and your fingers move to Clint’s hair, desperately clinging at the long strands. His forehead presses to yours, and he smells like the most dangerous concoction of sweat, cologne, and mint toothpaste you’ve ever had the honor of inhaling.

You join in an almost-kiss that’s all teeth, but he brushes his tongue against your cupid’s bow in a much gentler way, and you know he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine in reaction. He squeezes your hip gently in reassurance, and then his grip on you tightens. It doesn’t hurt, but you can feel the years of arm workouts, and you know there’s no way to escape -- as if you’d ever want to.

Clint’s knee jerks and then he’s thrusting up into you with such force it leaves you breathless. He holds you down and all you can do is gasp and hold him tighter as he pushes into you harder and faster. Every shift provides a new angle and friction as his tip stimulates your sensitive walls.

Your thighs shake desperately and you can hear the wet slap each of his movements provide as you coat his cock in warm slick. He grins at the sight, one hand drifting from your hip until it reaches your throbbing clit.

“Look at you,” he coos and punctuates the words with a rough circle of his thumb.

Your chest heaves as you gasp, but the lack of Clint’s hold gives you a second to grind against him. He grunts as you do, and you chuckle breathlessly against his parted lips.

“And look at you.”

He retorts by way of another rub against your clit, and your laughter quickly turns to a drawn-out moan.

“You look so pretty when you’re about to cum.” He pants between every word, but he’s determined to deliver the compliment that makes your face too warm. You’re not sure how he knows you’re so close -- it must be way more embarrassingly obvious than you thought -- but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he’s letting his cock drag inside you slowly, with a hard thrust every few seconds. Not when the pressure on your clit is changing so rapidly you can’t breathe.

When you do cum, with a broken cry and shaking torso, Clint doesn’t let up. He goes faster, harder. It’s a never-ending high that turns your brain to mush, and your body into even less. Your thighs burn and your toes curl but all you can feel is the delicious length buried deep inside you.

It’s only during the beginning of the cool down that you tug a little harder on Clint’s hair, and roll your hips a little more. “C’mon, Clint, please. Please fill me up.” His chest rumbles against yours with a throaty growl, and you continue to ride out your orgasm as he fucks into you with a few more desperate, shaky thrusts.

He cums in you thick and warm, with a groan of your name. It tumbles from his lips sinfully, and you commit the sound to memory. The rasp of his tone and the sight of his wet, swollen lips.

It’s not until he eases out of you slowly, and you feel the drip down your thigh that you’re grounded and reminded of exactly where you are. On a multi-thousand dollar couch. Owned by Tony Stark.

“Oh my god, Clint.”

His eyes are closed and you’re sure he’s about three seconds from sleeping for eighteen hours, but he manages a tired smirk. “I know. That was good.”

“No! I mean yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

He half-opens one eye. “What?”

“I think we stained the couch.” A quick glance between Clint’s thighs all but confirms it, and you’re not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed by the very large wet spot staining the blended fabric.

“I can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking about right now. After everything that just happened.”

You playfully slap his shoulder as you roll onto the cushion next to him with a huff. He nudges you back with his arm before clearing his throat, and letting out a butchered impression of your voice. “Oh Clint! Your dick was just so amazing!-”

“Oh my god!” You cover your face but nothing stops the laughter that rumbles through your chest -- even if he’s got your tone completely wrong. He just chuckles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side with a sigh.

“How much do you think we’ll owe Tony by the end of the day?” He looks down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes, but presses a chaste kiss to your hair. “C’mon, you don’t think I haven’t planned out every surface we still need to fuck on before they get back?”

“Clint!”

“See, you keep screaming my name but for all the wrong reasons.” Now you can feel his grin against the top of your head, and it comes into view as he stands with you still in his grasp. You’re not sure how he maneuvers it, but he’s got you in his arms before you can even blink, and the look he sends you tells you not to complain or even question it. He’s not even out of breath -- all things considered -- and when you glance in the direction he’s heading, your eyes widen.

“You have got to be joking…” You squirm in his arms as he sets you down on the table used for almost every meeting, and the mere thought of defiling it forever makes you squeeze your legs together shyly.

But, Clint is quick to spread them, all with a cocky grin and a far too confident tone.

“I don’t know about you…” He begins, as his fingers trail up your thigh. “But I think we could reach ten thousand by midnight.”

If you distantly hear FRIDAY warn adamantly against it -- neither of you mention it.

“Better get started then, Barton.”

---

[zutaras-where-its-at]

148. “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?” Pretty please? :)

I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD PICK THIS ONE OMG. Okay, this is set in season 3, sometime after Southern Raiders, but before Sozin’s Comet, idk the details are hazy, just try and fill in the blanks yourself lmao... (from this post)

xxxxximonmobilesopretendthisisalinebreakxxx

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

Zuko halts mid-step, his heart stuttering painfully before immediately kickstarting again at an alarming pace.

He turns around only to see a pair of bright—if not drowsy—blue eyes staring back at him in the dark. Where she had appeared peacefully asleep like the rest of their group mere moments ago, Katara now sits up, brown curls creating a halo effect around her head in the light of the fire.

“What?” It comes out louder than he intended. Zuko winces, but everyone else remains still and unaware in their sleeping bags.

Katara lets out a frustrated puff of air, one hand impatiently tucking strands of hair out of her face.

“You always kiss me on the cheek right before you go to bed, but only when you think I fell asleep before you.” She doesn’t look at him as she says this, her eyes squinting at the space around his left shoulder. “At first, I thought you did that to everyone—or maybe just the girls, or something—,” her eyes tentatively land back on his pale face, “but you only ever kiss me.”

I could deny it, Zuko thinks. I could tell her that she’s delusional, that she must have dreamt that. Or I could say that I actually do kiss everyone on the cheek as some really bizarre Fire Nation custom.

She takes his silence as confusion and gives him a dry look. “I’m a waterbender, Zuko. Falling asleep within the first hour of laying down while the moon is bright above me is like trying to push Appa through a cave.”

Sokka rolls over on his mat, his loud snore making the two lucid benders cringe. Zuko hopes she’ll realize this might not be the best time and he’ll be able to make a swift getaway, but she only waits until Sokka’s breathing settles back down into soft exhales before fixing him with a searching stare.

Resigned, Zuko swipes an exasperated hand over his face and turns to face her fully.

“Do you want me to stop?”

This apparently was not the answer she was expecting, and she splutters, shoulders sinking in surprise. “What?”

“Does it bother you? Do you want me to stop?”

She raises one dark eyebrow. “Stop kissing me on the cheek while I sleep?”

His cheeks burn steadily, but Zuko soldiers on. “Yes.”

“I—Well, I don’t—“

Katara attempts to backtrack, but Zuko’s already in hot water, and if he has to suffer there, then she’s coming in with him. He takes slow, measured steps towards where she’s still sitting on the ground, his voice never raising above their muted tones.

“Tell me you want me to stop, and I will. Tell me that you don’t like it, Katara, and it won’t happen again.”

It’s as much of a promise as it is a question.

He watches her eyes widen—her mouth parting on a half-formed excuse—and he silently begs her to give him the permission he only just realized he’s been appealing for all this time.

“I...” She licks her bottom lip. He blinks resolutely. “I don’t hate it.”

He’s close enough now that if she were to reach out a hand, he’d be able to grasp it and help her up. The others still remain ignorantly asleep, their quiet snores disrupting the silence.

“What are you really trying to ask me then, Katara?”

She swallows, and this time his eyes flick down to follow the movement before he can think not to. When she speaks, it’s barely a breath of a whisper.

“Why don’t you ever kiss me when I’m awake.”

He inhales, and then slowly—too slow—kneels down until their faces are inches apart in the light of the dying fire.

“Do you want me to?”

Her eyes don’t leave his when she gives the smallest nod of her head, and he finally reaches out, rough hands framing her soft face. He leans in at an agonizingly slow pace, but it’s worth it for the sight of her eyelashes fluttering shut and her mouth parting at the seam, for the feel of her face tipping up to meet his.

He pauses for just a moment, with just a sliver of space between their lips—just to drink in her—and her expression is so serene, so at peace, so still, that it’s almost like every other time he stole a kiss against her soft skin while she slept.

But then her eyelids open just the slightest, an impatient huff of breath hitting his face, and then she’s closing the distance herself. And Zuko can’t help but smile against her lips, because unlike every other time, this time is real.

[groundramon]

Cartoon asks: ALL OF THEM

THANK YOU SO MUCH OMFG

also i totally didnt fill all these out in advance and twiddle my thumbs in anticipation, hoping someone would send me this ask, nope not at all                 

1. A cartoon you remember that nobody else does.Back at the Barnyard.  That fucking show…oh my god

2. A cartoon you like but nobody else seems to.Well technically I remember liking Back at the Barnyard but I haven’t watched that show since I was like 8 or 9 so idk if I’d like it now akjsfkfkgjh I kinda doubt it now because my bullshit-tolerance-meter for television has significantly shortened.  Uhhh the only other cartoons I can think of that I liked that don’t seem to be liked by a lot of people are like…the DreamWorks cartoons (when they were on Nickelodeon and CN that is, I don’t have Netflix rip) and the Lego cartoons (except Ninjago because apparently that has a fandom?? what??) like I thought they were okay at the time at least.  (Also I guess the HTTYD cartoon wasnt hated, because it was fucking HTTYD, but //shrug)

3. A cartoon you don’t like but everybody else seems to. ADVENTURE TIME and like everything on Cartoon Network except Steven Universe and We Bare Bears honestly.  Like Adventure Time isn’t my cup of tea but I’m like “alright, some of those plots actually seem kind of interesting, I guess I can see where people are coming from” but like… shit like Clarence and Uncle Grandpa??  I’m all for people having different opinions but I don’t know how you can even get past the art style, let alone the writing style and some of the voice acting ;-; you are a stronger person than I’ll ever be if you can get past that lmao

4. A cartoon you wish would be forgotten.Uhhh pretty much everything on Nickelodeon from 2010-2014 (besides the dreamworks cartoons basically) and the shit reboots that CN’s been pumping out (namely TTG and the PPG reboot, but the Ben 10 reboot looks REALLY lazy, so at least it doesn’t annoy me [or I haven’t seen anything from it that annoys me] but…)

5. The worst cartoon you’ve ever seen, and why?Fanboy and Chum Chum, as far as cartoons I’ve actually watched go (because hoo boy, worse cartoons exist out there).  Everything about that cartoon is…wrong and broken.  It has one style of humor and that’s toilet/gross out humor.  The “straight man” so to speak, basically an emo teen version of Squidward, is actually…not Squidward in-show??  Like in the intro he’s very clearly set out to be a grouch who hates the main characters, but in the show he’s just…an introvert that gets wrapped into their plans and only snaps at them when they actually hurt him.  The protagonists are annoying as fuck and are psychopaths that deserve to be locked up in a mental institution.  It’s not funny.  The voice acting is annoying as hell.  And the animation is disgusting.  I didn’t know it was even possible to make 3d animation look this rendered yet still look so bad, but apparently it is.  Like they took extra effort into making the show look WORSE.  I will say that its impressive that they managed to get such tooney designs to exist in a 3d space, but that doesn’t do you shit good when the animation is gross.

6. The worst moment you’ve ever seen happen in a cartoon.Directly, as in I was watching the show?  Something in Fanboy and Chum Chum.  Indirectly, as in I watched a review where they showed the scene or I read about it?  Something in Family Guy, or the self-insert in the PPG reboot.  Yeah there’s a self-insert in the PPG reboot.  Every time I think it cant get worse…it does.

7. The worst thing you’ve ever seen happen to a cartoon that ruined it.I was really neutral on Teen Titans Go (some of the jokes made me laugh but others were really cringey, but it was at least funny some of the time and the art didn’t hurt me as much as other shows on CN, so whatever) but then I found out that they’ve actively attacked their critics in-show and have generally responded very poorly to criticism and…asdf.  Like its one thing to stay quiet, it’s another thing to embrace it and say “yeah we know its stupid, but it made us laugh!” (which they did do, kinda), but it’s another thing to spit in the face of everyone who has a problem with it (and not even address their criticisms, like they act like they did but?? no they fucking didn’t??).  Like the problem I have with the show is not that it’s stupid.  The problem is that the writers say “yeah, it’s for kids, so it should be stupid” (its not even “well it made us laugh” from what I remember), the problem is that the writers never watched the original show and completely ruined the legacy of a show that actually took itself seriously, the problem is that the writers are so fucking high on their horses that they respond to the haters IN-SHOW and LAUGH AT THEM.  My problem is not with the show itself, my problem is with the culture it embodies.  It embodies the worst of Hollywood entitlement, cheap shithole cashcow shows, cheap reboots that disappoint fans of the original, “stupid because its for kids” cartoons, and basically the worst Hollywood has to offer.

8. A cancelled/forgotten cartoon you would bring back to television.Uhh if nothing happens with Infinity Train then that, but besides that…another series of Avatar (like following a new avatar) would be fucking great but I don’t want to put the creators through the hell that is Nickelodeon lmao.  I also thought Harvey Beaks looked nice, like I never watched it but it looked okay, so I’d be okay with bringing that back too if it made the creator happier (honestly the poor creator…nickelodeon treated him really badly too)

9. An animated character you remember but nobody else seems to.Pete from Steven Universe lmao like where did he goJoking aside (SU is too relevant to count for this) uhHHH fuck I guess the characters in the Monsters vs Aliens cartoon? nobody remembers that movie but the show kinda cemented the characters in my mind (I would’ve said back at the barnyard but honestly I don’t remember the characters until you show them to me, besides like the main cow guy, whoops)

10. An animated character you hate the most, and why?Onion annoys me.  Like…he’s that kind of character that has no rhyme or reason behind what he does.  He’s the kind of character whose entire personality just relies on the kind of Adventure Time-esque humor that I just don’t get or enjoy.  The kind of humor that just creeps or grosses me out or bores me instead of making me burst out laughing.  The kind of humor that’s physical-based, but just too slow and poorly paced to be funny like slapstick.  I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s exactly how Onion seems to me and that’s why I dislike Onion.  In Doug Out, for example, Onion has no gross out or creep out jokes, and I don’t mind him as much.  Like he’s not a GOOD character, he still doesn’t bother insisting that there’s something else out there when the others disagree with him, but at least he isn’t scaring me.  OH AND MARCUS FROM DIGIMON DATA SQUAD I immediately thought Onion because he’s a cartoon character, but since this is just for animation in general…aksdhfgfkj i dont know why I hate Marcus so much, I dont want to hate Marcus so much, but I do.  His response to everything is just to punch everything and he’s so entitled and annoying and hotheaded and aAAARG HES JUST INFURIATING, I DIDNT THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE TO BE THIS MAD OVER A CHARACTER THAT ISNT FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN BUT HERE I AM

11. A non-animated property you would like to see as a cartoonidk if this counts because it’d have to be an anime probably but FOSSIL FIGHTERS CHAMPIONS!!! LITERALLY I WOULD CRY IF THIS WAS MADE INTO A MANGA OR ANIME PLEASE @ NINTENDO MY FAMILY IS STARVING but seriously can you imagine like….you could have a mute main character (its implied that the protagonist talks a few times but they could be selectively mute or just mime and the dialogue could be rearranged appropriately) and if you choose the female protagonist you could make her gay for Pauleen??? Like I refuse to accept the male protagonist as the “canon” main character bc I want gay sorry.  BUT LIKE!!!  You wouldn’t have to write that much bc its already written!! and its really fucking ridiculous and would probably appeal to like…TTG-loving kids because its so silly asdf BUT ITS ALSO GOOD, IT HAS HEART, PLEASE THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA like its not a good idea for manga/anime because it IS kinda ridiculous and childish but?? it would fit so well as a western cartoon???  Hey Nintendo can you please give me a license to produce this because I swear to god I would if I could

12. A trope or trend in animation that you dislike.Well there are a lot but they aren’t exclusive to animation…?  "Blonde popular bitch" and “damsel in distress” have been two of my personal most-hated for all my life because of who I am/was, but there are others I dislike too.  I also really hate the kinda…style that Adventure Time set up in cartoons.  Like I guess AT isn’t really responsible for ugly-looking cartoons and the type of humor that I dislike, because looking at CN before it aired there were already shows like that (Chowder, Flapjack…) but I think AT really popularized them and :/ it also reworked the same concepts in Chowder and Flapjack and people were like “WOWEE CARTOON RENAISSANCE !!!” and I just kinda….idk.  I have a lot of personal baggage against AT lmao sorry AT fans, like I don’t even hate the show and not all of its effects were bad (not in the slightest) but like TTG I have issues with some of the things it popularized.

13. A currently airing cartoon that you know is going to be forgotten about in the future.Hmm, We Bare Bears maybe, or like Mighty Magiswords.  Like CN plasters Mighty Magiswords everywhere but nobody gives a shit about that show so I feel like its only a matter of time before it disappears yknow?? but maybe im wrong.  WBB doesn’t get the attention it deserves so yeah.  Also maybe that Bunsun is a Beast cartoon over on Nickelodeon? im not sure man

14. The best episode of a cartoon you really like.The Southern Raiders (that’s only one of my favorites tho, like?? The Puppetmaster is tied for first in that season, and that’s just in that season, not including the other two seasons of ATLA)

15. The worst episode of a cartoon you really like.Rocknaldo or any episode centering around Onion, e u c k

16. A cartoon you feel deserves more recognition than it gets.Uhhhhh fuck everything I watch is mainstream cries WBB isn’t that popular and like its a cute, perfectly fine show, but its not like…revolutionary

17. A cartoon you feel deserves less recognition than what it gets.ADVENTURE TIME, also s/o to Regular Show, Clarence, Uncle Grandpa…like those last two aren’t even universally liked but sorry I still think they get too much praise asdf

18. The worst idea you can think of for an animated series.It already exists and its called One Ounce Mouse, but honestly adult cartoons in general are…a bad idea.  Like if you’re just gonna use your adult rating to offend people instead of using it to be insightful or using it to be ACTUALLY FUNNY, what the fuck are you doing with your life?  You should be fired tbqh

19. At what point did you realize a cartoon, any cartoon was starting to get bad?I can’t remember when I realized SpongeBob was starting to get bad, but it was sometime around 2010 or so.  I remember getting really sick of the show when it went to HD/fullscreen because for some reason, all the new character designs got…significantly worse??  Like the season premiere of that season (cant remember which season it was, don’t care to look it up) had three new characters and they all looked…so fucking ugly?  It was really hard to look at?  Like seriously they looked like something out of Sanjay and Craig, not SpongeBob.  Even the main character designs just…looked too smooth and rounded and not good to me.  It reminds me of like Family Guy and i dont like that overly smooth, “we have too much money so we blew it on extra in-between frames instead of good-looking art” style.  I think the final breaking point for me was Squid Baby and the episode where Gary got overly attached to a ball, and realizing that after an episode that actually was kinda legitimately nice (it was the one about Plankton getting a pet) they were never going to bring up Plankton’s pet again and ugh.  Like lack of continuity is nothing new but I really wish he had kept the pet, it was the best thing to happen to the show in literal years.  Like seriously that episode was the best new episode in years, it was legitimately cute even though I had a beef with some of the character designs (as I always did in that season)

20. An experience with a cartoon you thought you were going to like but turned you away from it.I tried watching Bee and Puppycat the other day and it really….put me off….because it had more of that Adventure Time style humor and I legitimately thought it interfered with how the plot should’ve progressed.  Like Bee was way too okay with everything and we didn’t get any explanation for anything because instead she just made weird noises and bit a monster’s tongue off.  I’m still gonna watch the other episodes for the heck of it, so maybe I’ll change my mind, but eh

21. Something you would like to see more than anything in a cartoon.It already exists and it’s called Avatar: The Last Airbender + The Legend of Korra

22. What do you feel makes a cartoon forgettable?That’s….actually a really good question.  Because like, I would’ve forgotten about Adventure Time years ago if it hadn’t been drilled into my head that everyone else thought it was the best thing ever and I didn’t.  I might be off my SU high by now if I didn’t keep reblogging/reading SU-related stuff on tumblr lol.  I guess blandness is what makes your cartoon forgettable.  If its not so bad that it’s funny/everyone needs to insult it, but its not good enough that it gets good reviews, then there’s just…no place for your cartoon, especially if its not profitable so it gets cancelled quickly.