#idk all i know is they all pile in the corner that has the best view of the tv and face that direction when i put that specific channel on.

[marklikely]

watching movies w the Boys during social time and so far they really like the reanimator green goo and nothing else

[persphonesorchid]

Auburn Skies - MYG

Summary:  Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she's off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There's no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time's passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he's still a little hopeful. Now you're here at the lake house because Namjoon brought you and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. 

Namjoon's gonna kill him.

Genre: 18+, fluff, angst, humor.

Word count: 12k

Warning(s): 18+, smut, oral (m+f receiving) unprotected sex, porn is mentioned. Yoongi and Y/n are BOTH stupid and they need help. Taehyung's trying his best, Seokjin is also trying his best but subtler. Yoongi's convinced that Namjoon's out to get him at every turn. Slight jealousy. Y/n and Yoongi have no idea how to actually hold a conversation like adults, until they do.

Notes: My addition to the Autumn Leaves Collab, hosted by the beautiful @bangtansmauyeondan !! I had so much fun working on this, and I met so many beautiful people that I'm so grateful for, so happy to call my friends 🥺 I love y'all! Please check out the other authors' fics on the Collab Masterlist! Everyone worked so hard, give my girls some love! Shout out to @blog-name-idk and @xpeachesncream for being absolute aNGELS, beta reading and helping me out when I panicked over this lol, and @madbutgloriouspond for helping me brainstorm. I hope you guys enjoy!! Please leave feedback, I'm nothing but a poor soul seeking validation (and motivation!) to keep going.

If you like my content, please, consider donating if you're able - Here

"You're staring." Seokjin nudges Yoongi's arm with his, snapping him out of his daze. He catches Seokjin's smirk, and there's a twinkle in his eye that promises nothing good. Yoongi pulls his eyes away from your form, sitting in a chair on the dock away from everyone else with a book in your hand. You're bundled up in a thick sweater and cozy sweatpants, completely lost in your book.

"Was not." Yoongi feels the need to deny it, distracting himself with cutting up onions, focusing on the way the blade of the knife cuts through the vegetable and definitely not the way Seokjin was wiggling his eyebrows at him.

"Sure. I believe you."

Somewhere inside, there is music playing. A Lo-Fi beat that plays softly under the sound of rain. It's kind of sad, if Yoongi is being honest, but he supposes that autumn is a sad season. Nothing but changes all around. The leaves change colours, mixing like paint on an easel in the hands of a melancholy artist drowning in his own solitude. They shift and the vibrancy of summer fades until they die, falling off their homes to go drifting in the wind, or land on the ground to become everyone's problem.

He doesn't really like autumn, when winter is right around the corner and he can feel the cold seeping into his bones no matter how many layers he wears. Always leaving his cheeks and his nose red, and his fingers hurting when the chill gets to them.

You enjoy it though, even reminded him when he picked up you and Namjoon this morning. You were kicking at the pile of leaves in front of Namjoon's apartment complex like a kid, laughing like you didn't have a worry in the world. You greeted him like you hadn't seen him in years, running up to him with Namjoon's scarf wrapped awkwardly around your neck like you were in a rush.

Namjoon is currently skipping stones with Jungkook near the lake's edge, and Yoongi can see he's halfway to giving up because Jungkook is on his competitive streak again.

Namjoon is one of his closest friends. He met him in college when they were both fresh out of highschool and riding on shotgun dreams of being more than what they are. He remembers meeting you during spring break of his junior year, and you were blabbering about getting accepted into the same college as Namjoon; determined to follow your brother to the end of time.

The only word to describe your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. He'd only ever heard of you, with Namjoon going off about you whenever Yoongi lent his ear. His baby sister who was doing so well in school, his baby sister, who to Namjoon, practically hung the moon in the sky. Now, Yoongi thinks he's naturally awkward when meeting new people, he can't help it. Getting to know someone is hard no matter how much you hear about them, even though you've got a pretty good impression just by word of mouth. There were shy 'hi's' and the most soul crushing 'See you later's' when there's little to no chance of ever seeing that person again. Sweaty, nervous hands meeting in shakes and straight lipped smiles.

Now, Yoongi was sure he wasn't too bad at it. And you were good, smiling brightly, not looking as awkward as he felt. What was awkward was the way Namjoon had excused himself to his parent's kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water. Yoongi had followed him with his eyes, because why was he leaving him standing in front of his sister alone?

Yoongi still remembers the chill that went down his spine that morning, as Namjoon watched him dead in the eyes over your head. A look Yoongi had never once received from him before, one that simply said: "If you think anything about my sister that isn't innocent; you will die."

As a best friend, Yoongi respected that. As a man, Yoongi valued his life. He wouldn't dare. It's the code, do not, under any circumstances, think about your best friend's sister romantically or less. You were off limits from the day Namjoon showed Yoongi that picture of you.

Off limits.

Yoongi heard that loud and clear and Namjoon hadn't said a word that day.

You were off limits, still, when you'd called him at ass o'clock in the morning - not Namjoon, your brother who trusted with everything - about some smarmy asshole who thought it was funny to break your heart. When he picked you up outside a bar where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend of a year, standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, crying and slightly drunk.

Looking beautiful even when you had stumbled your way to his car, asking what did you do to deserve getting cheated on. He didn't answer you then, he had too much to say and it wasn't the time, not when you were drunk and wouldn't remember a thing when the sun came up. So he cranked up the heat in his car, and white knuckled the steering wheel the whole drive to his apartment, because yours was too far and it was late.

Off the whole damn table, when you'd kissed him on the mouth, still drunk, still crying and clinging onto him in his living room. He pushed you gently away, even as he licked his lips to chase the taste of you. Keeping the distance between you both wide as he watched you shatter like glass in his hold. You apologized through your sobs, and Yoongi's own heart broke as he tried and failed to pick up the pieces of yours scattered at your feet.

You asked him not to tell Namjoon, and Yoongi never said a damn word. You slept in his bed that night, in his clothes that were way too big for you, and left the next day like nothing happened.

You're still off limits now, even as you've grown up and are going into your senior year. Now that Yoongi finished college and had a job like a responsible adult, now his biggest worry is the price of bread climbing up and whatever the hell was on the news.

"Namjoon, we agreed that you weren't gonna come within 10ft of this space."

Yoongi looks up to find Namjoon wandering aimlessly towards them, holding a bowl of something in his hand. He stops dead in his tracks though, frowning, "I'm not that clumsy."

Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before raising an eyebrow each at Namjoon. He sighs, lifting the bowl in his hand, "Hobi told me to tell you that Jungkook told him..."

"For Christ's sake..." Seokjin sighs, "Just get over here."

Namjoon grins like a kid, hobbling over to place the bowl next to Yoongi's busy hands. The bowl filled with slices of pork belly that Yoongi forgot he told Namjoon to fetch for him a long while ago. Too distracted to ask about it when he was skipping stones with Jungkook, he didn't even notice when he'd moved to get it.

He wonders what else he missed, lost in his own thoughts, and his eyes dart around to catch sight of you. Of course, you were no longer in the spot you'd claimed, now standing next to Jungkook. Both of you are laughing at Jimin, who was struggling to reach a branch of a tree that Jungkook could easily reach without stretching. You attempt it, jumping to reach, but you just don't make it and it's Jimin's turn to laugh, all crescent eyes and round cheeks.

At least someone's having fun.

Seokjin was mumbling something as he pokes at the coals in the grill, and Yoongi avoids looking at Namjoon because he realised he's staring again. He's awfully quiet, and Yoongi isn't sure if it's because of him, and he really doesn't want to risk his life here.

"'Autumn is the season that teaches us that change can be beautiful.'" Namjoon says, and Yoongi finds that he wasn't even looking his way. Instead, he was watching the lake with an odd look in his eyes, distant, like if he was thinking about something too hard and struggling to grasp it. At the same time though, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about; smiling to himself. He pats Yoongi cryptically on the back - a little forcefully - catching him off guard, and says nothing more as he walks away.

"We all know what it means when Joon starts quoting." Seokjin snickers, "You're so screwed."

Yoongi hums, and Seokjin gives him a knowing look, a look that says way more than what Yoongi is comfortable with, and he wonders, briefly, if he was being obvious, or if Seokjin was more observant than he gave him credit for.

"I hope the weather holds up." Seokjin mumbles, head tilted up and leaning slightly forward over the table to see past the awning above, he watches the sky with a small frown, "Said it was gonna rain sometime today."

Yoongi is grateful for the subject change, dumping the seasoning he chopped up into a bowl. He glances at the lake, at the reflection of the clouds on the water, they look a little gray with the promise of rain. He doesn't mind the rain, though, if it does, Taehyung's plan of sitting around the fire with marshmallows on a wire would be completely dashed.

Yoongi's not sure he could deal with the kid pouting all night because of it, and he hoped that the weather held up, too.

When lunch was ready, it was a little after two pm. The picnic table was clear of leaves that were raked to the side and into piles to deal with later. Hoseok finally crawled out of the bunk room, hair sticking up in odd angles and eyes sleepy still as he helped set the table with you and Jimin.

Yoongi walks over to the table with the small cooler he'd brought with him, packed full with ice and cans of beer, because what's lunch without it?

Seokjin walks behind, still prattling on about the weather, hoping for a little sunshine later on so he could get in the rowboat and swing his fishing rod around. He may have asked Yoongi if he wanted to come with him, but Yoongi was once again distracted; your soft laugh tunnelling his focus.

He sighs, internally, because God forbid anyone hears and starts asking invasive questions. Taehyung, of course, was clinging to you, not letting you move two spaces out of his orbit. Which of course, wasn't strange, Taehyung was just clingy that way; always stuck to someone like a kitten that hasn't yet learned to regulate its temperature.

The sight of it though, makes Yoongi's chest ache in a way that wasn't unfamiliar to him. The kind of ache that squeezes tight and knocks the air out of him, the ache he felt that night in his apartment living room when you kissed him. Thinking about it now makes the ache worse, because Yoongi knows what that kiss was, he knows what it meant and exactly where it came from. You were reeling that night, fresh out of a relationship that ended in a way you never saw coming, and that's where it came from. You were drunk, hurting, and attached yourself emotionally to the first person to treat you nicely.

It just happened to be Yoongi at the time.

He hates to think about it that way, as though it meant nothing when he wanted it to mean something. Yoongi likes to take things the way they came, there's nothing more than what it was, nothing to decipher or to sit and mull over. Not like he did that night, sitting up late on his couch, long after you'd passed out, then beating himself up about the whole thing because he was this close to laying his heart out at that moment.

He's glad he didn't. When you left the morning after, he wasn't even awake, woke up to his empty bed and quiet apartment. No note, no text - not that you owed him anything - so he left it as it was; unspoken.

He passes everyone a beer, avoiding your gaze when your hand brushes his, ignoring the soft smile on your lips that brightens your eyes and makes his chest hurt. He moves around the table and takes his seat in between Seokjin and Hoseok. He's sitting directly across from you, and to his rotten luck, Namjoon sits to your left, which puts Yoongi within his direct line of sight. He wonders if he'll be able to keep his eyes to himself, not get caught staring at you, even if your brother wasn't even paying him mind. Yoongi is cautious, still.

The chatter that fills the air is gentle, with laughs and catching up with each other. It was hard to find the time to do things like this, everyone was busy with their own schedules; the younger ones had school, the rest of them had work. Shit always get in the way.

Yoongi eyes Taehyung, who sits to your right and was poking at your arm more than he was eating. He had half a mind to tell Taehyung to quit it, the little devil on his shoulder telling him that he should; poking at his cheek and pointing. It isn't his place, though.

There's a twinkle in Taehyung's eye when their eyes meet, something mischievous that Yoongi would normally see from him when he was up to something. He turns slightly to you, whispering something to you with a hand covering the movement of his lips.

Yoongi's curious, he wonders what he's saying that makes your cheeks flush a pretty shade. Wonders what it is, when your eyes meet his for a second and you swat at Taehyung's hand. The younger man was clearly pleased with himself, smiling eyes meeting Yoongi's for a second too long, and Yoongi busies himself with stuffing his mouth with food.

"Think the water's cold?" Jungkook was looking out at the lake, doe eyes curious, his tongue absently fiddling with the ring in his lip.

"It's still early in the season..." Jimin answers, piling a spoonful of rice onto his plate, following Jungkook's gaze a moment after. "Wouldn't risk it though."

"I mean, you can if you want." Yoongi shrugs, "Just don't complain when you catch a cold."

Jungkook pouts, leaning his weight against Hoseok with a groan. Everyone knows Jungkook well enough to know that's exactly what he'd do, and then abuse his position as the youngest for the rest of their stay at the lake house.

The table was silent for a while, everyone occupied with stuffing their faces with the food, interrupted when Namjoon laughed at something Jimin said and choked on the rice in his mouth and is now nursing a bottle of water.

Yoongi missed this, just hanging out with his friends like they were back in college sneaking beer into the dorms and laughing over their drunken rambles. Just being.

Once lunch was over, they cleared the table of the bowls and plates, carrying everything inside to be washed up.

"I'll do the dishes," Hoseok says, balancing the large pot with plates and eating utensils in his hands.

"I'll do them, Hobi." Yoongi takes the pot from Hoseok's lax fingers, not giving him room to complain before he takes everything to the kitchen.

Yoongi misses the way Taehyung pokes your side, he did hear the smack of you hitting the offending limb, though. "I'll help you."

Yoongi feels his shoulders tense, and he tries to ignore it, setting the pot into the sink, while the boys place the other dirty dishes. He watches you for a moment, as you busy yourself packing away the seasoning and packets of spices back into their rightful places. He starts on the dishes, hyper aware of your presence somewhere behind him, but tries his best to keep it as far from the front of his mind as he could.

At some point, you switch places, and Yoongi takes up the task of drying the bowls and plates, packing them where they're supposed to be. He doesn't question it, just grateful to have something to do with his hands, mindful, to keep his head empty, because if his mind strays just a bit, he'll be thinking of things he really shouldn't. Off limit things. Like how he wished he'd just suck it up and kissed you back that night instead of pushing you away like he did. But, that would've been wrong of him, no? It wasn't the time and you weren't in the right frame of mind.

Yoongi skirts by you, packing the bowls back into the cupboard. This is awkward, maybe he should have let Hoseok do it when he said he would.

"Can I ask you something?" You suddenly ask, and Yoongi almost drops the bowl he's holding, not expecting you to speak because you've been so quiet. He glances over to the living room, where Namjoon and Jin are starting up a game of Mario Kart before he turns to look at you. Why does he always do that? It feels as though he's sneaking around for no reason whatsoever, always looking to make sure that Namjoon isn't looking at him.

"Uh, sure?" God, is it just him that's awkward? You look perfectly fine, elbow deep in soap water, scrubbing away at something in the sink, a small smile on your lips. Yoongi wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, bringing them back up to stuff them into the pockets of his sweater. Play it cool, Min. "What's up?"

You turn your head, looking at him, and he swallows. The sink slowly drains, making that odd sucking noise as the water goes down and you look like you're struggling to grasp your words. There's a cute furrow between your brows, and Yoongi doesn't miss the way you bite your lip and look everywhere but at him.

Jin swears at Namjoon in rapid fire, in that way he does when he's got too much to say and not enough breath. Yoongi could see his arms flying up and swatting at Namjoon's shoulder, yelling about the blue shell he threw.

You take a breath, eyes settling somewhere above his head, clearly trying to block out Jin's racket, "Well...um..." You glance at him and look away, and Yoongi's just a little hopeful.

You look nervous, for once, wringing the life out of the dish towel in your hand as you press your lips together. There's a crease at your brow and Yoongi wonders what's bugging you. There were times when you'd freely spill your thoughts, up with him all ungodly hours just talking because that's what brother's best friends do, right? Offer comfort and a space to vent that isn't in the viewpoint of your sibling? He wonders what changed.

He knows though. It was that night, after that, things have been tense between you both, Yoongi just wishes it'd stop. He misses you texting him to tell him how your day went, or you constantly reminding him that he's way cooler than your older brother. He watches you now, if just to see you get even more flustered, even though he didn't know why.

Hope is an evil, never necessarily a good thing, if all it does is make you believe that something would work even though there's a slim chance that it actually would. Yoongi hates that he's hopeful right now. Hates that he's hoping that the flush of your cheeks and your nervous fidgeting has something to do with him, he hates that he wished you'd just spit it out already and stop his mind from coming up with all these things.

"Okay." You sigh, nodding more to yourself in a self-assured kind of way. Your eyes find his, briefly, before darting away, "Okay, so, I wanted to-"

"Hey, Y/n. Wanna play a round of Mario Kart with me?" Taehyung asks, walking into the kitchen with a smile, eyes filtering between you and Yoongi before they settle on you again. He pauses when you snap your mouth shut, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly look at him. You and Taehyung share a look that Yoongi's not too certain he wants to know what's about; the silence between you three is too loud.

"What?" the younger man asks, "Did I interrupt something?"

"No."

"Yes."

Yoongi stares at Taehyung, trying his hardest not to glare at him, because what you wanted to say was clearly important. You were staring at him, Yoongi could feel it, but he's giving you an opening to say what you need to.

"No, Tae, you didn't. I'll play." You smile a little forcefully, finally giving the dishcloth a break and laying it down on the island counter. "I'll tell you later?" You tilt your head at Yoongi and he can only nod, hopeful again, that you really would and not find an easy out.

"Okay."

"Tae, can't we do this later or something?" You frown, speaking lowly as he wraps his arm with yours and drags you away, "I was actually really close this time."

"Yeah, no. You looked like you needed saving. So you're welcome." Taehyung shakes his head, curls swaying, "One day, little butterfly, you'll be free to spill your feelings." He sits you down on the couch next to Namjoon, who thankfully, has his earphones in his ears. Jin had already wandered off to do God knows after his defeat, leaving your brother to fiddle mindlessly with his phone.

You can hear Yoongi moving around in the kitchen, probably still packing away the dishes. Taehyung plops next to you, throwing his legs over yours and almost knocking Namjoon's phone out his hands. He starts up the game after passing you a remote, smiling at you, "He'll probably come over here to watch the game, so I'll lose and he could play against you, yeah?"

"Tae..." You groan, tilting your head back, and he pats your arm in a friendly manner, though a little firm in his delivery.

"If you don't tell him now that's fine..." He points at Namjoon with a tilt of his chin, trying to remind you of your brother's presence without being obvious. "But at least you could spend time with him. Never know what could happen." He wiggles his eyebrows.

Evidently, Taehyung's the only person who knows about that night with Yoongi. He was the one who picked you up from his apartment after all, firing question after question and not giving you room to breathe. Though he was a tad upset that he wasn't your first call when you were stranded, he understood why you'd called Yoongi. At the same time, he gave you an earful about just leaving the man hanging after you kissed him. Something you shouldn't have done in that moment, lord knows what Yoongi thinks of you now.

You've tried and failed so many times to tell Yoongi that you weren't as drunk as you seemed that night three months ago, you knew what you were doing. You were hurt, yes, but it was more out of realisation. Your relationship with your ex had been rocky at best, you'd given into his advances to hopefully put your crush on Yoongi behind you. It was easy at first, to have someone to put your focus on and give yourself to rather than to waste it on someone who didn't see you the way you saw him.

Yoongi has always seen you as his best friend's sister, nothing more. And you'd kissed him that night hoping that even for a second he'd realise, but he pushed you away and you knew there was no use hoping.

Even now, embarrassment still burns at your chest when you think about it, because what were you thinking? You'd left without saying anything to him because you were positively mortified. There were hundreds of unfinished texts that started and ended the same, with you contemplating if you should tell him or not.

More often than not, a tipsy night would find you huddled under your sheets with your finger hovering over Yoongi's contact.

It was more likely that he still saw you as the fresh out of highschool kid who followed him and your brother everywhere.

You groan loudly at your own thoughts, and Taehyung turns his head, looking between you and the TV screen, "Uh....You can play Toad if you want.."

"Huh?" The choose your character screen is up, idle, waiting for you to move your joystick around. Taehyung's already picked, "No, it's not that. I don't even like Toad, you can play him."

"That's the rudest thing that's ever come out of your mouth." Taehyung pokes your side with a finger, "What's on your mind?"

"Everything." You sigh, scrolling around to pick a random character. Don't get it wrong, you love Mario Kart as much as the next guy, but right now your mind was far, far away from this moment and the game.

Taehyung pats your thigh, "Maybe losing will help." He snickers, just as the game starts up.

"Oh, you're on." You're not gonna lose, no matter how confident Taehyung is, no one could beat you at Mario Kart.

"Cheater! TaehYUNG. Joon tell Tae to stop do- You're cheating!"

"It's literally impossible to cheat at this game!"

Yoongi leans back against the island counter, content to watch you crash and burn as Taehyung wins yet another race. His victory laugh is deep, almost unheard under the sound of your indignant screeching. The rest of the boys gathered to see what you were yelling about, finding the sight of your losing streak more than entertaining.

Yoongi had paused only for a moment, making a light snack that everyone could enjoy if they wanted to, though, it was only an excuse to make your favourite. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the couch, he can't see your expression, but he doesn't doubt that you're pouting with the cute furrow of your brows that comes with your concentration.

"Namjoon." You whine to your brother, though Namjoon's hands fly up into the air, phone and all.

"Nope, leave me out of this."

"But he's cheating!"

"I'm not! You just suck."

Yoongi picks up the tray of Hotteok as soon as everyone calms down, carrying it over to the group. He rests the tray down on the coffee table, careful to move quickly so he doesn't block the screen for too long.

"Oh! Sweet! Thanks Yoongi." Namjoon is the first to move, leaning forward to grab one.

"Wait, Joon. They're ho-" Yoongi snaps his mouth shut as Namjoon has already picked it up. He promptly drops it, pulling air through his teeth before blowing on his fingertips.

"Ow." Namjoon pouts at his fingers, rubbing them against the material of his grey sweats.

Yoongi sighs, "Be careful, would you?" He focuses on the TV screen, you're directly behind Taehyung, throwing a blue shell that sends him skidding off the road just in time for you to cross the finish line.

"Ha!" You push at Taehyung's shoulder in your excitement, sending him against Namjoon, who drops his Hotteok on the floor.

Namjoon stares forlornly at the pancake for a quiet moment, while you do a victory wiggle in your place, his misfortune ignored.

"Well there you go, who wants to play?" Taehyung asks, glancing around the room. Jungkook waves his arm, getting up from his space on the floor by Hoseok's legs to totter over. "Yoongi! Nice of you to volunteer."

"What? I didn't...?" Yoongi stares at Taehyung like he's sprouted a second head.

Taehyung ignores him.

"Hey I wanted to play..." Jungkook whines, Taehyung ignores him, too.

"Guys, let's go take a nap in the bunk room." He stretches his long legs over Namjoon's, pulling him up by the arms and shares a look with Jungkook who was likely, as confused as everyone else.

"I'm not tired, though. I napped when I got here." Hoseok pipes up, pressing his lips together when Jimin not so subtly nudges his side with an elbow.

"Let's go take a nap." Taehyung repeats, eyes narrowing slightly at Hoseok. He relents under Taehyung's gaze, sighing as he stands and drags Jimin and a complaining Jungkook.

Taehyung smiles brightly, dropping his hands heavily on Yoongi's shoulders. Yoongi doesn't know what the kid's playing at, but allows him to direct him to sit next to you.

Yoongi shares a look with Seokjin, who shrugs and stands to leave too, linking his arm with Namjoon, "I found a book I think you'd like Joon. But we have to look for it, it's lost in my bedroom somewhere..."

"Oh...Kay? Sure."

Their voices trail off as they head up the stairs, and Taehyung waves as he backs out of the living room, with a sweet - suspicious - boxy smile."Have fun you two!"

"Okay what the hell." Yoongi mutters, turning his head to look at you. You didn't look his way, staring dead ahead at the TV, fingers tapping lightly at the control.

He hears you take a breath, "Wanna play Toad?"

"Uh...sure."

A few minutes go by before Yoongi could finally relax, getting comfortable on the couch focusing on the game and not the fact that you're less than a metre away from him. You're nibbling on a piece of hotteok, a little too quiet for Yoongi's liking. He was expecting you to be yelling because he's way ahead of you.

"So...can I ask you a question?" Yoongi keeps his eyes on the screen as he asks, afraid to look at you because he might slip up or stop all together. He could already hear the little voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. "I just wanna ask about...what you wanted to tell me in the kitchen?"

Yoongi doesn't normally pry, people's business are theirs and not his. But curiosity is driving him up a wall and he just needs to know. Maybe he was being foolishly hopeful again, thinking that whatever it was had something to do with him. That's why you hadn't said anything when Taehyung interrupted, right?

Yoongi wonders what Taehyung's deal was, first he was being too clingy with you - not that it's any of his business - and now he's acting so painfully obvious; trying to get you both in a room alone. It didn't go over Yoongi's head, as not a lot of things do.

He purposely lets you win the race, though, your victory was unsounded as you set the controller aside. "Right... kitchen..."

"You know you could tell me anything, right?" Yoongi says softly, fingers just wanting to reach for yours, if just to offer comfort. He tucks them against his palm though, and into the pouch of his sweater for an extra precaution.

"Yeah I know," You smile faintly, "like old times right?"

"Yeah exactly, and I won't judge, you know that. So whatever it is, just say it."

Maybe his words were a bit harsh? You stiffen a bit in place, sighing through your nose before you turn to look at him. The determination from earlier is back in your eyes again, and Yoongi finds it impossible to hold your gaze, and he's the first to look away this time. Keep it together, will you?

He feels heat climbing his neck, racing to each of his cheeks and he hopes to god you just think he's going pink because it's cold in here. Seokjin really needs to get that crappy heater fixed so Yoongi can blame something if you ask about it.

"Okay so remember the time when you-"

"You two are being awfully quiet." Seokjin pokes his head into the room, staring at you both, but not too long, before his eyes find the tv screen. "Oh, Yoongi, did you win?"

"No..." Yoongi sighs, watching as you shut him out once more.

"Really? It was so quiet..."

You make an offended sound in the back of your throat, straightening a bit to glare at Seokjin.

"Yoongi, can you help me with the firepit?"

Yoongi follows Seokjin outside along the wrap-around porch, the sun was halfway in its descent, painting the sky in a flurry of soft colours. The lake glistens with amber crystals, catching the sun's sleepy gaze as it drifts slowly off behind the hills; almost out of sight.

The sunken fire pit was in the backyard, something Yoongi helped Seokjin install last year. He's quite proud of it really, he did most of the heavy lifting while Seokjin stood around telling him how and where he wanted things like a glorified dictator.

As Seokjin gathers the firewood and steps down the three steps to throw the logs into the firepit, Yoongi realises that he didn't actually need any help.

"Watching you try to talk to Y/n is so painful. Like that time I broke my arm but worse."

"I actually wasn't doing the talking." Yoongi grumbles, enjoying the satisfying crunch of gravel under his sandals as he walks over to the cushioned semi circle bench and sits to watch Seokjin do all the work. "You have terrible timing."

Seokjin scoffs, shaking his head, "It's a wonder Namjoon hasn't figured it out yet...you're so obvious."

Yoongi feels like Seokjin just isn't listening to him, continuing his mission of getting the fire going; his words completely ignored.

"Joon is oblivious sometimes."

"You are too."

"Here, this one's longer."

Yoongi watches as Seokjin trades wires with Jungkook, patting him on the shoulder as the younger man happily sticks his marshmallow on the end of his wire. As usual when they're all together, there's laughter in the air, and the lightness Yoongi feels in his chest is something he misses when he's alone.

He watches the moon rise behind the trees, full and glowing brightly in the cloudless sky. The fire was warm, the burning wood crackling softly, sending little glowing sparks up into the air. Everyone had their own bag of marshmallows for toasting, with chocolate and biscuits for s'mores.

"This is nice," Hoseok comments, smacking Jimin's hand away from the smores he was setting up, tucking them into the corner of a small bowl he brought. Jimin gets one anyway; sneaking it away while Hoseok wasn't looking.

"Yeah, we haven't done this in forever." Namjoon sticks the wire with his marshmallow a little too close to the fire.

"It's gonna burn if you do it like that." Yoongi reaches over and raises Namjoon's hand higher.

"When it's burnt it's the best, though."

"Are you a sadist?" Taehyung frowns at Jungkook, "it's better when it's just a little toasty."

"It won't melt inside if you play kiss and tell with the fire. You gotta burn it." Jungkook's marshmallow was just on the edge of charred and Yoongi watches with mild disgust as he smushes the thing between pieces of chocolate and unsweetened biscuits. He shoves the entire thing in his mouth and closes his eyes, moaning around the treat like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.

"Um? There's no way you're enjoying that." Hoseok didn't try to hide how he felt about it, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. "Stop moaning like that!"

"I wasn't moaning!"

"Yes you were!"

Yoongi shakes his head, turning to look at you, who sat next to him, eating out of your own bag of marshmallows. The wire Seokjin had given you is still in your lap, untouched.

"Want me to make one for you?" He asks softly, already sticking a marshmallow on his wire. He hangs it over the fire and twirls it so it gets nice and brown, "Do you want it with the cookies?"

"Yeah, thanks." You smile sweetly at him, and Yoongi feels his heart stutter in his chest.

Once he's finished assembling the s'more, he hands it over to you. You take a bite out of it, and Yoongi struggles to breathe the very next second at the sound you make, turning his head swiftly to stare into the fire as though it would save him.

"Dude, Y/n. That's gotta be the best s'more ever created." Taehyung says, snickering from across the firepit, "Yoongi make me one, too!"

"You can make it yourself." Yoongi's cheeks flush, passing you a bottle of water when you choke.

"I wanna make happy noises, too."

When the fire in the pit smolders and the embers of the wood burn orange, everyone is ready to call it a night. The younger ones escape to the second floor bunk room first, Seokjin and Hoseok right behind them.

Hoseok is trying to convince Seokjin to flip a coin for the master bedroom while they go up the stairs.

"Owner's rights, Hobi."

"You have any idea what it's like to share a bathroom with those three? Have a heart!"

Their voices fade, and Yoongi is left standing in the entryway with you and Namjoon, feeling awkward and not quite sure what he should do with his hands. So he shoves them in the pockets of his sweatpants, and drags his feet towards the kitchen, suddenly thirsty.

You and Namjoon are talking in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear, but he pays it no mind, it isn't his business, really.

You come in a second later, moving to the fridge just as Yoongi moves past you, and he's a little curious, a little worried, because you look a bit upset. There's a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth as you crack open a bottle of water.

"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks softly, fingers just itching to reach out for you, but he holds his own bottled water a little tighter instead.

"Yeah...Joon is just..." You shake your head, "Are you staying up to watch the movie with us?"

Your change of subject didn't surprise Yoongi, you've been doing that a lot today. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, "I might...do you want me to?"

Yoongi would give you anything you ask for right now, hell, he'd find a way to pull the moon from the sky if you asked it of him.

"Huh?" Your eyes seems panicked for a second as they dart away to stare off elsewhere. "If you want to, it's up to you really."

"Then I'll watch." He gives an easy smile, "Are you sure you're okay?" He steps closer, a hand meeting your cheek gently, unintentionally and without Yoongi's consent. Simply out of his need to offer you comfort when he can, and maybe it's his wishful thinking, maybe it's that stupid thing called hope again; Yoongi swears you lean into his touch. Your skin is warm, like cooling tea on a winter's morning.

"I'm fine," You're staring at his lips as you say this, and Yoongi's heart skips before it gallops, threatening to burst from his chest. Maybe he's imagining it, but you move a step closer, and he does too, leaning down a bit to meet your height, "I just wanted to.."

Just another inch, if he moves just an inch closer. You're so close now that your exhales mingles with his in the space between you both, he could feel the chill seeping off the bottled water you hold, pressed against his stomach where your hands linger.

Yoongi decides he's not going to be awkward right now, he's going to be brave and just do this. He's going to kiss you and pour everything he feels into it, and hope - prays - that you feel it too.

"Ahem."

You and Yoongi both spring apart like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't. Yoongi's cheeks are heating up too quickly for him to stop it, and yours are too, and he doesn't want to turn around because he knows who's behind him.

Think fast, Yoongi. Think.

"I hope your eye feels better. You should kiss - rinse! Rinse with warm water. 'Cause you know...germs...could uh.... get in there.... "

Really? Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, already anticipating his death when he turns to face the grim reaper behind him.

Namjoon stands in the kitchen doorway, eyebrow raised, doing that thing he does with his jaw. Yoongi feels a little faint, looking at the ugly painting Taehyung convinced Seokjin to buy and hang up in the living room over his head.

"Y/n had something in her eye and I was just checking." He looks back at you and you look just as confused as he's feeling, smiling though, as if his misery is funny to you. "R-remember. Warm water, okay?"

With that he leaves, not looking at Namjoon, who's gaze he could feel at the back of his head.

"Joon, are you serious?" Your voice was a harsh whisper, a little loud in the silence of the kitchen.

Yoongi walks away, hands in his pockets, not catching Namjoon's reply as he makes his escape. What the fuck was that?

"Let's watch The Conjuring."

"Fuck that." Hoseok puts his palms up, "Unless you're willing to cuddle me to sleep, we're not watching that movie."

A chorus of groans fills the room, "For the love of God, just pick something already. Not you, Jungkook."

"It's not my fault Hobi's a coward."

Hoseok's reaches over Seokjin to smack the back of Jungkook's head, who immediately retaliates by hitting Seokjin instead. The three of them trade playful smacks for a moment, while Taehyung and Jimin argue about which movie would be best to watch.

"Okay let's just all pick something." You say, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers, "Rock, paper, scissors, whoever wins; we'll watch."

Terrible idea really, everyone knows Jungkook is going to win.

Yoongi opts out, not really caring what goes up on the screen. He's sitting with his hands under his thighs, trying to keep them warm but at the same time, keeping them from doing something stupid. You're right next to him on the couch, he's once again hyper aware of your closeness, the way your arm would brush his every time you moved, the scent of your shampoo, soft and fruit scented.

He focuses on the way a single tear slips from Hoseok's eye, the way he tries to make himself as small as possible on the other couch next to Seokjin with a white knuckled grip on the latter's sweater. Jungkook triumphs in his endeavour of beating everyone who played against him, laughing, carefree and malicious as he pulls up The Conjuring.

Hoseok keeps his head tucked behind Seokjin's shoulder for most of the movie, clinging to him and jumping at every loud sound from the TV; poor guy's going through it.

Yoongi is just barely watching, staring at the screen, but not really following along - he has no idea what's going on. Mind too distracted with the fact that you chose to sit next to him and not next to anyone else. He's still reeling from the incident in the kitchen, glancing at Namjoon who was stuffing his face with popcorn, form outlined in the glow of the tv.

He could feel the warmth of your thigh through his sweatpants, and every little movement you'd make at the jumpscares and the loud sounds.

Hoseok dips halfway through, going up the darkened upstairs hallway with his phone torch on. Jungkook had the audacity to fall asleep, drooling on Seokjin's shoulder and mumbling unintelligible words; unbothered.

"I'm going to bed." Yoongi says to you, not really sleepy, but not interested in the movie enough to stay and watch. You grab at his hand and he pauses, "What?"

"You're leaving me here to suffer?"

"You're a big girl, you can take it." He shrugs, patting your hand before getting up. "Night guys."

Yoongi lays quietly in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, unable to sleep. He turns his head, looking at the clock that blinks sleepily back at him and sighs, it's getting later into the night and sleep continues to evade him.

The house seemed to have quieted, the sound of Jimin and Taehyung arguing about who gets to use the upstairs bathroom first stopped a while ago, though, the stillness only allowed Yoongi's mind to wander off. He wonders if you're sleeping yet, he knows you have trouble sometimes, a common curse you both share.

He wonders about what you and Namjoon argued about, if it had anything to do with him. God he hopes not. The last thing he wants is for you and your brother to fall out because of him.

There's a soft knock on his door, quiet enough that he almost misses it. Just almost.

Yoongi gets out of bed, dragging his feet to the door. He isn't completely shocked to find you on the other side, looking like you're two seconds from walking away. Your hand still hovers, eyes impossibly big when they meet his in the soft light of the downstairs hallway.

"Hi." You say, softly, hand falling and gripping at the hem of a tee shirt he's sure belongs to Namjoon.

"...Hi?" Yoongi's brows furrow, not quite sure what you're doing knocking on his door at one in the morning, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to talk to you..." He lets you shuffle into his room, and you walk over to the bed while he closes the door.

"What I wanted to tell you earlier..." You sit on his bed, a good distance away, enough to leave the space between you both cold and Yoongi longing for you to come closer. You seem to be struggling, staying quiet for a little too long.

"Hey." Yoongi calls, "Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? You know I'd never judge you." He feels the need to repeat himself, just in case you need to hear it again.

"You will." You glance at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and you shake your head, "This was stupid..."

"Hey, hey." Yoongi grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting up. "How about I look over there?" He points at a random spot beside him with a thumb, "I won't look at you and you can just say it." He turns for good measure, staring at the wall on the far side of the room.

You're silent for a moment, a long moment that has Yoongi wondering. Maybe he should stop pestering you about it, bury his curiosity - his concern - in a box somewhere to forget about. He's been on your back about it for most of the day, granted, the universe apparently didn't want you to say anything, not with the way you were constantly interrupted every time you tried to talk about it. He should take that as a sign and drop it all together.

"You okay back there?" Yoongi asks softly, turning his head slightly, but not facing you.

"I wasn't really drunk." You say

Confused, Yoongi's brows furrow, "Huh?" He turns to face you, "What are you talking about?"

"The night you picked me up outside that bar." You're not looking at him, instead, you're looking down at your hands in your lap. The events of that night comes rushing to the front of Yoongi's mind, the way you kissed him, how soft your lips were.

"Wait, so..." Something in Yoongi's ears was buzzing, loud and distracting, as realization dawned, he feels a heat rising from his toes. "You-" he stands quickly from the bed, now that he knows exactly why you've been trying to say all day, he thinks he just might lose it.

"Why'd you leave without saying anything?" It's the first thing out of his mouth and Yoongi wishes he'd just shut up.

"I was embarrassed that I just kissed you out of nowhere like that. And you pushed me away, what else was I supposed to do?" You say in a rush, "I know you only see me as Namjoon's little sister."

"I don't." Yoongi says, and at your pause, his palms start to sweat, heart kicking against his ribcage. "Why did you kiss me that night?"

"You probably think it was because I was drunk. That wasn't it." You look him in the eye, "I wanted to."

Yoongi takes a breath and a moment to think carefully about what he's about to say, "Y/n." He runs his palms against his thighs, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "You were drunk. Just out of a relationship and you only kissed me because you were hurting, that's it."

"That's not-" You sigh loudly, pursing your lips and staring at the ceiling, "Do you even know why I dated that idiot? It's because you..." You trail off, picking at a loose thread on your t shirt.

Yoongi waits, giving you the moment you need to gather your words.

"I dated him so that I could forget you." You say softly, not looking at him, and Yoongi feels like he's buffering, like a frozen computer screen. Just standing there as he processes your words, it's taking a while to sink in, or they have, Yoongi is only trying to understand them. "I thought that dating him you would..."

Yoongi sighs, "Tell me something, yeah?"

You nod quietly, waiting. Yoongi watches you for a moment, he's more curious now, "How long?"

He watches as you fluster, eyes darting around to look at anywhere that isn't him. The way your fingers pinch at the dark sheets on the bed, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and Yoongi just wants to kiss you. But as he's been doing all day, he gives you a moment; Yoongi is nothing but patient.

"Since we met?"

Is that a question? There Yoongi goes buffering again. He blinks a couple of times, mind going through the motions of his forced epiphany. The moments when you used to follow him and Namjoon around, all the staying up late texting as though you both were more than you were at the time.

"I really really like you and I tried to show you that night, but well..."

You get up from his bed with a sigh and step towards him and Yoongi tries his best not to take a step back, he allows you to reach him, to stand close enough for him to touch. He's panicking, on the inside, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is a terrible idea and that he should probably stop you.

He can't bring himself to, words stuck in his throat.

You're closer now, Yoongi could feel the warmth of you, and he swears this time that he'll be brave. So he kisses you first, fingers tangling in your hair, a hand gripping your waist to pull you even closer. He feels your hands against his chest as his eyes close, your lips are warm and as soft as he remembers, and he groans at the taste of you. His tongue finds yours, slowly, sliding against yours and he wants to savour this, commit your every sound to memory. Yoongi groans when your hands slide into his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck.

He pulls back for air, lungs trying to take in as much air as possible, too quickly, he feels lightheaded. But that could just be because of you. He presses a fleeting kiss at the corner of your mouth, nose brushing against yours lightly. He's pretty sure this is what being high feels like, the rushing of his blood in his ears and the tingling at the tips of his fingers.

"You're gonna end me." Namjoon will too. The thought alone was enough to make Yoongi pause, realise the grip he had on your hips. One of his hands is just shy of the exposed skin under your tee shirt, hyper aware of the way your chest is pressed to his, your lips on his neck.

Namjoon is going to kill him.

He feels your teeth nip at the skin of his neck and he hisses between his teeth, your tongue follows. He pulls away, pushing you from him gently to take a couple steps back. He sees the question in your eyes, the soft furrow of your brows. He sighs through his nose, thinking about how much of a terrible idea this was, and how Namjoon would very likely drown him in the lake.

"Y/n...we can't." This was the reason he pushed you away the first time. Yoongi likes to think ahead, think about all the outcomes of a situation before he walks into it. This could go two ways, and Yoongi's mind can only focus on the worst scenario. What if this goes wrong? What if doing this now ruins everything, he'd not only lose you, but Namjoon as well.

He sees your pout and he looks away, wondering why he can't just let it happen and deal with the consequences later. But Yoongi isn't like that. He likes to sit and over think things.

"Is this about Namjoon?"

Yoongi startles at your question, jolting a bit as he drops his hands from your waist, fingers curling against his palm. He's not as good at hiding his thoughts as he presumed, or you just knew him too well for his own good. He answers your question with a silent nod, not meeting your eyes in the darkness of his room.

"Yoongi. He wouldn't care. Namjoon can't do anything, what I do isn't his business."

Yoongi goes to argue that that's not the point. You were so off the mark that he almost laughed, Namjoon wouldn't care what you thought. He wouldn't be able to look past Yoongi even thinking about touching you. So much for being brave.

You sigh, and Yoongi catches the hurt in the sound.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't push me away again, please." You reach for him and Yoongi doesn't stop you, because he can; he doesn't want to. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

"Are you sure?" He asks seriously, catching your wrist, ducking his head so that he could meet your eyes properly, "Tell me now that this is okay because when I start I won't stop."

You barely got to nod before Yoongi was kissing you again, pouring everything he had into it, hands moving down to grip at your ass in your cotton shorts. He takes careful steps, walking you backwards towards the bed.

"Just let me take care of you, yeah?" Yoongi gently pushes you back onto the bed, taking his time to strip you out of your clothes. Not letting his worries and doubts stop him from telling you how beautiful you are, or from kissing every inch of skin revealed to his eyes.

He kisses his way down your thighs once your shorts and panties are out of the way, stopping every now and then to nibble at the soft flesh. Your little sighs and moans are something he wants to record and keep with him forever, even though he wouldn't need them to remember.

He touches you lightly, just to tease, sliding his hands down your thighs, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. He wants to draw this out, ignoring your impatient whine and the rise of your hips at his touch. He's waited so long for this, wanting to taste you beyond the kiss you shared so long ago, Yoongi wants to make you beg. Reduce you to a mumbling mess of incoherent words, but at the same time, he too is impatient.

He shushes you gently at your call of his name, fingers parting your folds and watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing at his gaze. "So pretty, baby."

It was your only warning before he dove in, licking a board stripe from your engerance to your clit, focusing the tip of his tongue at the bundle of nerves. You suck in a sharp breath, hand tugging at his hair and it only spurs Yoongi on. He sucks gently in your clit, tongue moving in slow figures and dips a finger into your wet heat. He groans at the way your cunt just sucks him in, arousal dripping down his hand and he adds another, curling them against the soft spot within you.

He looks up at you, past your heaving chest to your fucked out face. Your parted lips, furrowed brows, glazed eyes looking back at him.

"Yoon--fuck."

Yoongi groans lowly in his throat, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, mouth flooding with your taste. He'd stay there forever if you gave him the chance, listening to the way your breath hitches and the sound of your moans and the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. He drives his tongue inside you, and the whine that leaves you has him rutting his hips against the bed. He can't get enough of your taste, the way your pussy clenches he's around his fingers.

"You taste so good, baby." Yoongi loves the way you grip at his hair, the way you tug sends tingles down his spine. He thrusts two fingers inside you, crooking them right, hitting the spot that sends your moans into a higher octave. He can't be bothered with how loud you're being, or if anyone's awake right now and would know exactly what you're both up to. You don't seem to care either, too lost in the pleasure; moaning his name.

"F-fuck, right there," you whimper, thighs tensing around his head. Yoongi groans as he obeys, crooking his fingers and rubbing at the spot that makes you sing so sweetly. His lips never leave your clit, tongue swirling around the swollen nub in figure eights. Dragging his fingers within the tightness of your dripping heat, he could tell you're close, feeling the way your thighs tremble. "Fu-"

Your back arches off the sheets, and Yoongi moans when your release gushes out of you and into his mouth. He stays there and takes it all, until you push at him instead of pull and Yoongi lets up, running his hands up your sides in an attempt to soothe as you tremble in the after wave. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," you squeak out and Yoongi chuckles, getting up to sit back on his thighs. He watches you for a moment, watching the way your chest heaves with your every breath, your hair a tangled mess against his pillows. His eyes trail your form, down to the mess between your thighs that twitched at his attention.

"Sure? You good to go on?" He asks to be sure, squeezing your hip gently. You nod, reaching for him and he goes without complaint, caging you within his arms and kisses you slowly. His tongue tangles with yours, and he grinds his hips down against yours, seeking friction for his aching cock, dampening the front of his sweatpants.

"Fuck that feels so good." He groans, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck. He angles his hips so that the length of his cock rubs directly against your clit, shuddering, it feels so good and Yoongi can't stop. He slows down though, because he could feel his release racing down his spine. "Fuck, baby."

"Wanna..." You push at his shoulders, "Wanna suck your cock." Your hands are at the drawstrings of his sweatpants already, tugging, "Wanna taste you, too."

"Fuck, okay."

Yoongi gets off the bed to shuck off his sweats, cock springing free, red and pulsing, precum beading at the tip. He chuckles at your facial expression, eyes surprised even though your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. He notes the way your eyes follow the movement of his hand, he grips his cock and squeezes, thumb catching the translucent drop and dragging it down his shaft.

"You're big."

"Good for you, then?" He pumps his shaft slowly, whispering curses under his breath.

You roll your eyes, "It wouldn't have mattered if-"

"Shh." Yoongi shushes and crooks the fingers of his free hand at you, "Come here."

He leans down to grab a pillow behind you, pausing, "Where's comfortable for you?"

"Wherever you want me," you say sweetly, and it would've been cute with the way you smile, if it wasn't for the look in your eyes. For a moment Yoongi feels like he's in for way more than he bargained for, with you looking so pretty, alluring, like a succubus ready to siphon his soul. Such a far contrast from the you of earlier, fumbling with your words and flushing under his gaze.

"This isn't about me." Yoongi swallows, "Are you kneeling or do you wanna stay on the bed?"

"I'll stay here." You make yourself comfortable, propping up on your elbows, and Yoongi passes you the pillow to help you reach his hips in your position. You slide the pillow under your chest, already reaching for him before he steps closer and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when your smaller hand wraps around his cock.

You mirror his motions from before, pumping slowly and Yoongi's not sure if you're teasing him or not. Tongue snaking out to kitten lick at the head, you swirl it around before taking it into your mouth.

"Ah fuck." Yoongi throws his head back, a hand finding your hair as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. He feels your exhales against his tummy, just barely, his mind too muddled to focus on anything but the warmth of your throat and the wiggling of your tongue under his shaft. "You're doing so good, baby."

You hum a gurgle of a word Yoongi would probably never decipher, the vibrations around the head of his cock has him tugging lightly on your hair and pulling out and away from your mouth, breathing hard. He'd be damned if he comes so quickly, that shit will probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

There's a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock, and you smile like the minx you are, not letting him get far enough away before you're taking his cock into your mouth again, bobbing your head at a quick pace. Yoongi could cry, he's trying so hard, there's sweat dripping from his hair, you're pulling him closer, taking him deeper and his eyes roll back.

"Shit. Slow down." His words trail off in a moan, and he's unable to help the rolling of his hips, thrusting his cock into the warmth of your throat, gently, mindful of your breathing. You swallow and he swears, thighs tensing and he stops, pulling away again to release a stuttered exhale. Leaning down, he kisses you, licking into your mouth with haste, tasting himself on your tongue. "Wanna fuck you." He breathes against your lips, releasing your hair for you to scoot back up the bed.

He's quick to follow, slotting his hips between your thighs, stopping to map bruises against the skin of your chest. He laves his tongue over a nipple, fingers toying with the other, he takes the pebbled bud into his mouth just to hear you make a pretty sound.

"Yoongi." You whine his name, and Yoongi doesn't waste another second, hooking one of your knees over his elbow, other hand guiding his cock to your wet cunt. He stays there for a moment, tapping his cock against your clit just to watch you squirm. You raise your hips to meet his teasing thrusts and Yoongi chuckles, easing back to slowly drag his cock down your slit until it prods at your entrance.

He slowly presses into you, watching the way your pussy sucks him in, arousal coating his cock. "You're so fucking tight." Yoongi stills, gripping your hips, watching you through a lust filled haze. He thrusts shallowly into you until he bottoms out and stills, free hand squeezing your hip gently. He swipes his tongue over his thumb, pressing the digit against your clit to rub in slow circles, "Relax for me, baby."

When he feels your body relax around him, he moves, setting a slow pace to start, leaning down to slot his lips over yours, swallowing the sounds you made. You arms wrap around his neck, nails scraping red, angry lines at his shoulder blades. The pain only heightens the pleasure he feels, crossing his eyes and curling his toes.

"Fuck." Yoongi bites gently on your earlobe, "You're so good for me baby. So fucking good. Taking my cock so well."

He knows you're getting tired of his pace. You're lifting your hips to meet his thrust, moaning helplessly into his ears. "Want more, baby?" He leans back in time to catch your nod, kiss swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth. He grips your hips again, keeping you from moving, and slows down just to watch you squirm and beg for him.

"Ple-fuck. Jus-" your words cut off with a gasp, hands gripping Yoongi's wrists where he holds you. He sets a punishing pace, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass loud in the quiet of the room. "Oh F-fuck, Yoongi."

"This what you wanted, hmm?" He tilts his head at you, one eyebrow raised, sliding a hand up your sweat slicked skin to cup your jaw, you take his thumb into your mouth and Yoongi's cock pulses with the need for his release. He smirks, pressing his thumb down on your tongue, pace never faltering, his nerves are on the edge of frying, orgasm tingling at the end of his spine. Pulling his hand away from your mouth and presses his thumb against your clit, looking down at the way his ccok, covered in your arousal, disappears inside you.

Yoongi groans, the sound rumbling in his chest, feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing tight as your breath hitches. "Ah--fuck I'm gonna-"

"Yeah? Come for me, baby." As your body tenses and tremble, Yoongi chases his end, hips stuttering and he gasps, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his release spills into you. "Oh fuck."

Head light and ears ringing, Yoongi kisses you, it's more tongue than anything else, but he doesn't care. He does his best to keep the full weight of him off you, peppering kisses along your jaw. He feels your every breath and his sweat cools on his skin, "You okay?"

There's sweat burning his eyes and he squints at you as you push his hair back and away from his face, you're smiling and giggling shyly. Like if he told you a joke and didn't just fuck you nine ways to hell. "I'm perfect."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, leaning back up again to carefully slip his softening cock out of your still pulsing walls. His release comes flowing out not two seconds after, he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth, cock giving an interested twitch.

Yoongi gets up before he starts something again, because he just might die trying to go through a second round so quickly. "Don't move, I'll be right back."

He looks around on the floor for where he left his sweatpants, he puts them on and shuffles quickly to the door. He only realises just how quiet it is now that it's quiet, he realises how loud the two of you were being.

He goes back to you with a warm, damp washrag, finding you close to falling asleep. He cleans you up anyway, mindful of your sensitivity.

When he's done he watches you for a moment, fingers finding yours first. Mindlessly he fiddles with them and reaches for his discarded shirt and passes it to you, releases your hand only for you to put it on. "We probably could've done this sooner." You say softly, smiling.

Yoongi tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What? The sex or...?"

You lightly swat his arm, "You know what I mean."

"I do." Yoongi presses a kiss to your wrist, sighing when you gently lay that palm against his cheek. He believes that action speaks volumes and there's no need for words, but he realises that he hadn't said it back to you earlier. Though, he was very much distracted and his thoughts were absent. "I like you too...alot...just in case that wasn't clear."

He shifts on the bed to be closer to you and leans his head on your shoulder, "I'm sorry it took me so long. It takes me a while to come to terms with things. I overthink and make things harder for myself, I wasn't sure if this was the right way to go."

You hum softly, breath tickling his ears, "It's okay. I suck too. We could've avoided the run around if I'd just told you."

"Yeah, you're terrible. I had no idea what to do with your smoke signals." Yoongi raises his head, chuckling. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to your forehead and tilts your chin to kiss you softly. "Can I take you out? When we get back."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Yoongi smiles, feeling like a kid and nudges you softly, "Go pee. I'll strip the sheets, go on."

He watches as you walk on wobbly legs till you reach the door and pause, turning your head to watch him with wide eyes, "you don't think they heard us, do you?"

"Nah, they're asleep."

"Dude, whoever was watching their porn so loudly last night, fuck you. Honestly, the lack of respect in this household."

It's the first thing Jimin says when he comes downstairs the next morning, looking like he'd slept on the wrong side of the bed. Eyes swollen as he takes the coffee Seokjin offers and the sympathetic pat to his shoulder.

Yoongi ignores the conversation, even though you looked like you were about to combust next to him. Seokjin was giving him a look from his spot by the stove, looking ridiculous in the pink apron he favoured.

"Yeah the walls are so thin in here it's wild." Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at Yoongi and you choose that moment to choke on your sip of orange juice.

Taehyung pauses, fork halfway to his mouth with a strip of bacon hanging for dear life at the end of it. He looks between the both of you for a quiet moment, strong brows furrowed until something lights in his eyes. "Oh my god."

Jimin, who's slumping in his seat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to crawl his way back upstairs perks up at Taehyung's words, "What?"

Yoongi stares silently at Taehyung, daring him to open his big mouth and say exactly what he definitely wants to say.

"Nothing. Nothing...." Taehyung waves his hand with the fork, sending the piece of bacon flying off it and into his glass of orange juice. Jimin watches on with disgust as Taehyung fishes the piece out of the cup and tosses it into his mouth.

"The bin is right there."

"Are you drinking the juice?"

Yoongi runs circles into the skin of your knee, as Taehyung and Jimin bicker.

"Oh, Joon. Come eat." Seokjin wanders over to the entrance and Yoongi just barely catches the sight of Namjoon passing by, saying that he was going for a walk first. Hoseok and Jungkook enter just then, finding their spots at the table as Seokjin sets plates for them.

"I'll be right back." Yoongi says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, leaving Jimin sputtering into his coffee. He pushes his chair back and stands, catching the way Hoseok squints at you.

He points, not saying anything before he leans around Taehyung to smack at Jimin's arm, "I told you so! You owe me fifty."

"Bold of you to assume I came here with money."

"You guys made a bet?" You ask, incredulous.

"Yeah. It's either someone was watching porn, or someone was getting it. You and Yoongi are the only ones not sharing a room..."

Hoseok voice fades as Yoongi shuts the front door behind him. It's cold, mist and dew clinging to the world and Yoongi regrets leaving his sweater in his room. He rubs his hands over his arms, the long sleeves of his t shirt barely keeping him warm.

Namjoon's already walking, a good distance from the house near the lake's edge. Yoongi takes his time walking over, gravel crunching under his feet, he slots his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.

When he reaches Namjoon, the younger man is crouched down, cooing at something on the ground. There's a little crab scurrying around trying to get away from Namjoon's curious fingers.

"Just let the little guy be." Yoongi announces himself, "Thing's probably scared shitless."

"I just wanna pick him up, though," Namjoon continues to try, sighing when the little crab escapes into the lake. "Oh well.." He dusts his hands and stands up, finally looking over at Yoongi.

"Aren't you cold?" He asks, and remembering he's standing out in a tshirt and sweats, Yoongi shivers. Namjoon looks all cozy in his beige sweater and matching beanie.

"I wanted to run something by you." Yoongi says, looking out at the lake and the way the light of the morning sun glitters against the still waters. He shoves his cold hands into the pockets of his pants, rubbing his thumb over his curled fingers. He realised that this is going to be as hard as trying to talk to you, and Namjoon waits patiently, watching Yoongi with eyes that seemed to know too much.

"Uh.." Yoongi chances a look, glancing at Namjoon who's just as quiet as him, waiting. "Look man, Y/n and I had a talk last night."

"Right?" Namjoon gives him a look, a confused one, head tilting and all.

Yoongi takes a breath and decides to go headfirst, though he takes a step back from Namjoon to be sure. "I really like your sister and we talked about it and I just wanted you to know that."

The uncomfortable look that morphs Namjoon's features wasn't what Yoongi was expecting, especially since the look stays there for a while as Namjoon just stares at him. He raises a hand to scratch at his cheek, "Dude."

"What?"

"Are you saying that I owe Hoseok fifty dollars?"

"...Eh?" Yoongi's confused, and it feels as though he's spent this whole weekend running on pure confused energy. Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in a way that makes Yoongi take another step back.

"I know. You two are terrible at hiding shit." Namjoon points his thumb over his shoulder, back at the house where he glances. From where he stands, he could see Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin peering out through the window. "I know my sister, and I know my best friend. You guys are adults, so, really, there's nothing I can do but watch it happen."

Namjoon shrugs, and Yoongi flushes, cheeks heating. "But when I met her...you...you gave me a look."

"I was trying to ask if you wanted water!"

"That was not a 'do you want water' look, Joon."

Namjoon reaches over and pats his shoulder softly, hand lingering, "You have my blessing, if that's what you came to ask for." He smiles, eyes disappearing, but Yoongi's relief is cut short when he tries to shift away, Namjoon's grip tightening. "Though, she's still my little sister. I know where you live."

Yoongi chuckles, a little scared.

"Good talk." Namjoon nods to himself, "I'm going inside. Get out of the cold!"

Tagging: @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @hamsterclaw @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @doneimnida @here2bbtstrash

[foli-vora]

First of all

(I am sure I started following for the Dave/Marcus series)

With Javier Peña can I get F reader and

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” and “You’re so fucking cute.”

A medium amount of filth if possible

Ah my love! Thank you so much! You're such an amazing light in this fandom, and we love and appreciate you so much! Thank you for sending in a request! I don't know what happened but it got a bit out of hand and super soft and a bit angsty lmao, but I hope you still enjoy and the medium amount of filth still hits right! ❤️

before my eyes

javier pena x f!reader

word count: 3k warnings: idk i feel like this is a mess but i'm going with it, neighbour!javi, swearing, smoking, SOFTNESS, smidgen of angst, mention of injury/gunshot wounds/surgery, SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral sex (f), unprotected p in v

“Shit,” you curse, watching the box in your hands give way to the contents within.

The bottom gives out, your belongings spilling down the stairway, and you heave a sigh of impatience. Sweat slicks your skin, causing the flow of your dress to cling to you as you bend to try and find some semblance of organisation to the unexpected chaos thrust upon you. 

“Let me help,” a voice says from the top of the stairs, and you turn to watch the newcomer jog softly down the steps and duck to gather some of your things.

“Thanks,” you murmur, heat washing under your cheeks, “this is just what I need.”

Of course the attractive man living in your building has to catch you in a moment of mayhem. Javier, as he had previously introduced himself the day before, gives you a small smile, the yellow tinted sunglasses covering his eyes sliding down the curved bridge of his nose.

“Not having the best day?” 

“It could be better,” you reply dryly.

The plumbing in your apartment is weak at best, with a few leaks springing from the pipes beneath the sink in your kitchen and bathroom. Not to mention the shot to shit AC unit, leaving the humid Colombian air to fill every inch of every room.

“I could come and take a look,” Javier says, making a neat pile of books before sweeping them up into his arms and following you the rest of the way to your door. “I’m no plumber, but I could fiddle around with the pipes at least. I know a guy who could come out for the AC.”

“You don’t seem like the type of guy to have a tool set laying around,” you tease lightly, shifting the barely fixed box onto your hip to push open your door.

Javier grins, “You’re right—I don’t, but I have been taught a thing or two. I’m sure the Hillbilly’ll have something I could use. I can come tonight, if you want?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble—”

“You’re not—I offered.”

It may not have been any trouble for him to come over, but he certainly was trouble himself, you had quickly come to learn. The feelings he invokes in you is something you hadn’t quite felt before. He makes his desire obvious, unashamed with his light flirtations that never fail to bring butterflies flying right up your throat.

As a thank you for fixing your leaky pipes, you cook. Your first proper meal in your new apartment, and in wonderful company, too. Who'd have thought your new move would bring you here? 

Dinner is filled with easy conversation, and he expertly dodges any and all questions relating to his work. You know that he works with Steve, your new neighbour Connie’s husband, and you know by her that Steve works for the DEA.

You don’t mention work again for the night. He stays longer than you had originally expected, content to share a glass of bourbon on your couch and listen to the soft music falling from your record player.

The evening ends with no more than a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your lips, and your heart thunders in your chest when he remains close enough to feel his breath wash over your lips.

For a second, you find yourself wanting, hoping that he’d close those last few centimetres and grace you with the feeling of his lips over yours…

… but no.

Instead, he turns, leaving with a dangerously charming, almost teasing, smile and a quiet goodnight.

Trouble, indeed.

Weeks pass before you see him again for more than a few seconds alone or without the company of Steve and Connie, striding into the building late at night and running an anxious hand through his hair. A tough day, you assume. He would have plenty with his line of work.

You make your presence known and smile softly at him, still clad in your party dress from a night out with new friends.

“Not having the best day?” You ask gently, leaning against the railing of the stairs as the effects of the alcohol in your system bring a hazy swirl to the edges of your vision.

He stops, playing with his keys between his fingers before giving a shrug, “It could be better.”

Your stomach tightens and flips with his low rasp. The attraction is undeniable, and you’d been questioned viciously by Connie in regards to the looks you and Javier would share, or the energy that would fill the room whenever you two were close. You’d had no answers at the time, putting it down to merely a simple crush that would pass soon.

Something in your mind said differently though, that this felt like more, deeper than a silly little crush that would fade away after a few months. You hope he shares the same sentiment, but with the choices and certain circumstances he would put himself in for his job and gathering intel, you started to doubt more and more that that would happen. 

“Want me to help with that?”

It’s the remnants of various fruity cocktails bringing forth a small wave of flirty confidence. Usually you would never be so upfront, but you don’t find yourself regretting the words as soon as they pierce the air. You want it, with every inch of you.

He thinks it over for a long moment, his eyes dragging over your body with an obvious shine of desire and admiring your flattering choice of attire, but instead a slight curl pulls at the corners of his lips and your heart thuds harder and faster in your chest.

“Maybe another night, when you can actually remember me in the morning,” he teases deeply, smiling wider when you give a breathy chuckle. “You need help getting in?”

“No, I’ve got it. Goodnight, Javier.”

“Goodnight, corazón.”

That's new.

You struggle to get rid of the smile curling your lips, even long after you wave him goodbye and tuck yourself into bed. His voice lingers, images flash behind your lids as you try to sleep.

He drives you crazy.

He fills your thoughts every moment of the day—his face, his eyes, his smile. His voice would linger in your ears, the low rasp of it keeping your nerves electrified.

You look for him in the entryway coming home, you listen out for his comings and goings through your thin front door. Sometimes you even catch yourself having a little peek through your peephole when you hear him and Steve, watching as he runs a hand through his hair and ever so slightly looks towards your door before vanishing. 

It’s one night you both happen to arrive home at the same time, the humidity of Colombia sticking to your skin but relieved with the breeze that blows through the streets. He lingers, seemingly happy to chat while you fiddle with the straps of your handbag.

“You want a drink?”

The question is a welcome surprise, and you merely nod in answer, unable to quite force the words out your mouth.

His apartment is… Javier. It’s minimal, no signs of being truly lived in with photographs and knick knacks like the ones that fill your walls and tables, but the air filling it is comfortable and cosy, the music that falls from his record player familiar and calming.

Conversation flows easily.

He’s tired, the bags hanging softly beneath his eyes showing that work has been extra hard on him the last few weeks. You love that he looks relaxed with you, sinking into his couch with his head leaning comfortably on the back as it rolls to face you.

He smiles at your ramblings, laughs quietly at your stories, the crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes hitting somewhere deep in your chest. 

You don’t even realise you fall asleep until later in the night.

You wake only a few hours later, hazy and slightly confused by your surroundings, but instantly soften at the heavy breaths that fall into your ears. He’s asleep next to you, still cradling the half nursed glass of whiskey in his hands. His head rests just beside yours, his lips barely parted and breath washing past your face as you watch him for a long minute.

He needs rest. Carefully, you extract yourself from the couch and gently place your own glass on the coffee table before draping him in the coloured crochet blanket hanging just beside him and pressing a tender kiss of goodnight to his forehead.

It wakes him, his eyes half open when you pull away to leave and the sheer force of his gaze keeps you from moving away any further. He watches you quietly, his dark sleep filled eyes roaming your face before he leans up and catches your lips with his own and steals the breath from your lungs.

He moves slowly, hands roaming your legs and hips before cupping your ass and pulling you down until your knees sink into the cushions beside his hips. You settle in his lap easily, muscles loosening with each curl of his tongue along yours until you’re practically melting at his touch. 

Everything feels right.

Every moment, every kiss, every touch… God, he knows what he’s doing. He devotes his energy to you, uncaring about meeting his own end and instead selfish with the time he spends on your body. He studies it all—what makes your breath hitch, what makes your legs shake, what makes your fingers tighten and tug at his hair.

You savour every sharp exhale and groan that falls from his lips. It's not long until you're spread out on his couch, watching with wide eyes as he tugs at your underwear and throws the soaked cotton over his shoulder with a lazy smirk that radiates trouble.

He loses himself between your thighs, dress haphazardly shoved up and out of the way so he’s free to devour you as he wishes, his tongue rolling and circling over your clit and diving into the weeping entrance of your cunt until you’re breathless and incoherent.

He brings you up and over the edge again and again, until you physically think you can’t possibly give him any more, only to have him force yet another out of your system with his low rumble sinking into your ears.

So good for me, look at you. Let me feel you, so fucking good. Give it to me, come on now, corazón—

You’re bent over the arm of the couch when he finally gets sick of the dress still clinging to your frame, fingers unforgiving as they wrench the dress up and off your body, freeing your skin to his hungry touch.

They roam at their leisure, cupping the soft swell of your tits and pinching your hardened nipples until you squirm against the solid feel of him pressed up against your ass.

He ruts into you without abandon, cock hitting just that bit too far and blessing you with the sharp twinge of pain alongside the blissful feel of him dragging against your walls and you're seeing stars, clinging to the cushions as a means to keep your head straight and not lose yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy threatening to have you passing out.

He cums with his lips on your neck, mouth hot and heavy against your sweat slicked skin as he pants into the curve on your shoulder, before pressing one simple final kiss there. He lingers, pressed tightly against you and crowding you into the firm arm of the couch as he softens within you, his cum trailing a slow, hot path down the inside of your thigh.

You curl into the reassuring hand to rub along your back as you sink shakily back to sit down. You smile shyly when he reappears with a warm cloth, lazily sliding it across your skin and softly cupping it against your tender cunt to calm the ache there.

It’s intimate, the sheer closeness of the action bringing your heart to beat at the base of your throat.

Surprisingly, he asks you to stay, and your heart doesn’t calm until exhaustion claims you after your head meets his pillow, the familiar scent of his cologne and the faint traces of cigarettes clinging to the soft cotton. 

It’s a slow development. 

The next time, he comes to you, knocking on your door in the middle of the night and you let him in without a word. You cuddle into the leftover warmth on your bed long after he leaves for his own apartment to head to work, the ghost of his lips moving over your body following you for the rest of the day.

The time after, it’s his place again, but this time, he cooks. It’s the first time it feels like something more than sex, but it goes unaddressed.

You talk and talk, you learn about his father, his life before Colombia. You admit to finding your life lacking, forever wishing for something more than the mundane ‘find a husband and settle down’ expectations struck upon you.

There’s something there, lingering behind the way you take each other apart.

It follows his touch, oozes from the kisses you pepper each other with. It feels nice, it feels so right. You feel comfortable in his bed, completely nude and not at all bothering to hide any part of you. It feels normal, natural even, when he lays beside you and throws out random topics of conversation with his lips around a cigarette, occasionally offering it to you and chuckling warmly when you’d attempt to inhale the harsh tobacco. You’re both unperturbed by the silence that would sometimes follow.

And that feeling never disappears, it only grows as the weeks go on.

You know you have strong feelings for him one morning when you feel him press a tender kiss of goodbye to your forehead while you’re still half asleep. It has your heart quickening, something soft and sweet and warm curling around your chest. You bathe in the glow of it. 

But it would be addressed later—you’d hate to potentially ruin whatever you have building with him by speaking on your feelings too quickly.

And then, one fateful day, it happens. It all comes crashing down around you and for the first time, you worry you'll never be able to speak the words to him.

The steady beep of the machine is somewhat comforting in the chill of the room. You barely notice it, too consumed with watching the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the light blanket covering his body. Steady, they had said, after the surgery they had rushed him into.

It hadn’t been expected, the phone call during the morning of another seemingly normal work day. Steve had sounded nervous, a first for your neighbour. He hadn’t been able to give you all the details, all you knew was that it was bad.

Shot. A bullet in his side and one in his chest. 

You had flown to the hospital, rushed in with his name falling in rushed pleas and they had shown you to the waiting room to await a doctor for more information. Steve was there, Connie, too. She had doted on you, guided you to a close seat and ordered her husband to get you a drink, a snack, anything.

Hours went by, and soon a man appeared, kindly reassuring you he had made it through with minimal issues, and was now in recovery. You were beside him within an hour.

He was warm to the touch, his pulse thrumming softly under your fingers as you had gently cradled his hand. He had remained motionless at the tender kiss you had pressed to his forehead, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he remained in the bliss of a hopefully painless sleep.

And you hadn’t moved since. Steve had left after some gentle pressing from Connie, and you had reassured him you’d call the moment he awoke. He had gripped Javi’s fingers softly, giving him one final look of worry, before turning and leaving under the arm of his wife.

Nurses come and go, checking his IV and doing their routine of observations, never worrying about their findings and erasing any of your lingering fear with a warm smile. They bring you coffee as the day bleeds into night, keeping you fed with cold hospital sandwiches and the occasional packet of sweet biscuits. 

You just want him to wake.

It’s normal, they say. Just give him time.

“Javi,” you murmur softly, leaning forward to brush his hair back for the thousandth time, “I know you need some time to get your strength back, and that’s fine, but just so you know—if you don’t wake up, and you die? I will kill you.”

As you expected, he stays silent, but you still smile, lingering to brush your fingers down his cheek softly before settling back in your seat. Your hands wrap around the arm resting in front of you, and you rest to press your cheek on his warm skin, content to watch him sleeping and losing yourself to dreams sometime into the night, too.

It’s a slight pressure on your temple that gently pries you out of dreamy darkness. It moves, sliding along your skin softly before disappearing and returning to where you’d first felt it. Fingers, you realise hazily, recognising the feel of someone stroking your face.

Your eyes flutter open, immediately to be met with a pair of tired dark eyes seemingly content in watching you. Javi.

Startled, you sit up and reach to call for the nurse, only to stop at the raspy voice that tells you to calm down.

“They already know,” Javi says quietly, throat dry and raw. “They just didn’t want to wake you.”

You turn for the jug of water and pour some into the little plastic cup, carefully plucking the straw from the table and holding it at his lips. He drinks slowly, humming from the relief of the cool liquid filling his mouth.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” he replies dryly, lips twitching at the corners.

“Idiot,” you snark around a grin, returning the cup to the table and linking your fingers through his. “No, really, how are you?”

He sighs, head rolling on the pillow so he can look at you better, “I’m doing okay, corazón.”

You nod, tongue running along your lips as you take reassurance from his words. He’s okay.

You tighten your fingers through his and take a small breath to calm the anxiety in your system, unaware you’re crying until you hear him breathe your name. You mumble an apology, almost embarrassed by the stream of tears, but it’s soon muffled by his hospital gown as he gently pulls you to him.

Carefully, you rest your head on one side of his chest, mindful of the thick bandaging on the other and warm at the arms that come to rest over your back.

Admitting feelings can wait. For now, you’re content to just rest in his arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart under your ear.

“You know,” Javi murmurs against the top of your head, “you’re really fucking cute when you snore.”

“I do not snore!”

-

Yeah this was a mess but I'm into it nonetheless lmao.

I haven't updated my taglists yet soz x

taglist 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

[luveline]

Hurt/comfort with James you get into a big argument and he storms off and you think he’s left the apartment/house but you come downstairs later and see him just doing chores or watching tv or something so you join him and idk I think that sounds nice<3

i think it sounds nice too!! This concept was so so sweet to me ♡ fem!reader | 1.1k

When you and James fight, it's weird. It's nothing like all those couples on TV. There's no screaming or shouting or anything so dramatic. He treats you with every bit of respect that he can and that doesn't stop when you disagree. You've learned to extend him the same courtesy. You love him. Fights are just… fights. 

Still, this was a frostier one than usual. James has been spending a lot of time at rugby training, more than he ever has before. You know it's because he has to but it still makes you feel lonely, and you'd tried to tell him that. He'd apologised, though it had eventually boiled down to you saying it wasn't good enough, and James saying, "I don't know what you want me to do!" and leaving in a huff. 

You'd barely registered his footsteps down the stairs, tears hot and fast down your cheeks. You'd sobbed, covered your face and tried your best to stop. What can he do? He has to train. 

What can you do? You can't change how you feel. 

You sit on the end of the bed and cry, feeling silly and stupid and hurt about it all. Your chest aches now that he's gone. 

Eventually, you regret it. You don't regret telling him how you feel, but you wish you hadn't gotten so emotional and you really wish he hadn't left. He finally has some time to spend with you and you'd wasted it arguing. 

You slink down the stairs and head for the door, figuring he would've gone to Sirius' house to cool off. You can apologise, ask him to work through it another time. You just really want to be with him. 

It's kind of funny. The only person you want to tell about your argument with him is him. 

The tumble dryer beeps. You flinch at the sound of it being pulled open and peek into the kitchen with a racing heart to find James bent at the waist and pulling out a fresh load of bedsheets.

You walk slowly to the kitchen and pause at the threshold. 

"Are you okay?" he asks immediately, though he doesn't quite look at you. 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you say. He winces at your tear-thick voice. 

You watch him shake out pillow cases before he folds them and piles them onto the table. He picks up the duvet cover and you fall into your routine without thinking, taking two warm corners. You copy his movements and fold the cover into a quarter, his fingers brushing yours as he takes your corners. 

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly. 

James breathes out heavily and puts the sheet onto the table. You worry you've inadvertently started up the argument again, but he says, "I don't know." 

You nod. A little awkward but a lot earnest. "Is there something I can do?" 

He looks over your face carefully. James is an open book, and you can read a lot from this one small look. How fond of you he is for starters, his eyes softening as he meets your gaze. How tired he is. 

You know he wants to hug you before he says it. His arms open to let you in, wrapping them tightly over your shoulders, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

"I really miss you," he says. "You know? I don't like this either, and I'm sorry." 

It makes you feel better instantaneously, a crushing weight lifted to know you're not alone in this. "I didn't mean to be selfish," you murmur sheepishly. 

"You're not." 

You curl your hands in his shirt. James' arms always make you feel better. Always. You feel protected. Safe and warm. Still, tears well in your eyes and your face crumples. 

He shushes you and rubs your shoulders. "Don't, shortcake," he says gently, "it's okay. We're okay. We'll work it out." 

"I know we will," you agree tearfully. 

He doesn't say anything, only waits patiently for you to get it all out, and it works. You'd wanted comfort from James and no one else. He rubs your back until you've stopped crying.

"I'm sorry you feel lonely," he says again. 

You go to say something self-deprecating, a flippant comment that he can sense, because he continues, "I hate that you miss me. I know things are really busy right now, and I'm never here. It's not fair to you." 

"It's not fair to you either." 

He pulls you impossibly closer to his neck, lips to your forehead. He doesn't kiss you so much as press his lips there, thinking. You think too, your body relaxing against his like butter warmed by the sun. 

"The season ends in a month," he says after a little while. 

"Yeah." 

"I need you to do this for one more month. One more. And then things will go back to normal." 

Until the next time, you don't say. 

"Please?" he asks at your silence. 

"I hate missing you." 

"I'm sorry." 

You push one of your hands under his shirt to feel the warm skin of his back. Where your hand flattens is a burning heat, like your touch has somehow amplified it. You let it soak into your palm and your fingers. 

"One more," you agree finally. 

He kisses your forehead properly. "Thank you." 

"I'm sorry too." 

"I don't really want you to be sorry. None of this is your fault." 

"I didn't think about it being hard on you, either." 

He guides you away from his chest and cups your face in one hand. His thumbs smoothes over your cheek in steady, rough quarter circles. The soft skin under your eye tugs with each pull. 

"Doesn't matter," he says decidedly. 

You lean into his touch, eyes closing. "I thought you'd left. Gone to Sirius'," you confide. 

"Yeah?"

"I thought maybe… I'd finally made you angry." 

"Not this time," he says, huffing a laugh. It's contagious. "No. I just needed to get my head screwed on. I'm never really angry at you, when we argue. It's more like- like I'm angry we're arguing at all."

"Everybody argues." 

"I know that. Just wish we didn't have to." 

"Maybe in a perfect world," you say lightly. 

He rests his forehead against yours. "Now, who says this one isn't perfect?" 

You want to scoff at him but can't quite manage. "You're full of it," you mumble. 

He rubs the tips of your noses together, his breath warming your lips as he dips in for a chaste kiss. 

[eomma-jpeg]

🎁, 🏷️ and 📚 for the fanfic ask? :)

🏷️ Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

so i don't have any particular tags i look for... i do often gravitate toward anything that has a kiss? im a slut for instant gratification so there has to be a kiss in the fic lolol

I love like... college au's? (everyone read a study in reformation) i'll fall for those things any time

i'll take fluff any day. i'm such a baby i just want to see my characters happy. if that means going through angsty things? thats okay as long as their happy in the end !!!

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

readers of this ask ! go follow @firewoodfigs they write incredible royai fics. I could only dream of writing like them <3<3<3

OTHERS INCLUDE

@fullmetalscullyy oh my GOSH, the best royai fantasy au <3

@noaafishfieldguide their fic Blank Ticket and Sea Foam are my favs (vashmeryl and millywood!)

@fullcry their Memories on Film is a MUST READ (vashmeryl)

idk if they have a tumblr but eilwen on ao3 has written some of the most poetic stuff i have ever read its like CRACK (mostly vashmeryl)

but i cannot recommend Tension... its massive, its not even close to done, and its one of the best fics i've ever read (vashmeryl)

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

for you b, i actually have a royai wip hidden in my pocket

"I don't… I don't want to be alone."

Those words had been the start of a night to remember. Specifically because of the way Riza was handily beating Roy in a simple betting card game.

“You’re simply awful at cards, sir”

“I am not,” Roy said, eyebrows furrowed as he analyzed his fan of cards, “you just happen to be incredible at cards, Lieutenant.”

It was late, the only light in the room was the standing lamp they had moved from the corner to provide vision for their game. The new moon outside hadn’t helped their lighting situation either, but Hawkeye appreciated the stars that dazzled the night sky in the moon's absence. 

Riza had bet well, playing intentionally and taking all of Mustang’s cards. Roy bet wildly. He often relied on luck when it came to games, and according to the other members of their team that luck was normally in his favor; Havoc was one to complain about lost wages after a night of drinking and poker. But Riza knew Mustang, and she also knew that sometimes his ego needed to be checked. Unfortunately for him, that responsibility usually fell in her capable hands. It was her responsibility to pull that luck out from under him, force him to face reality every once in a while.

“It's not very fair,” the Colonel finished his last thought absentmindedly. He finally laid down a card and Riza sighed, gathering the cards into her growing pile. Roy let out a frustrated growl.

“Just know, I surrendered that card willingly,” his finger pointed an irritated finger at the now hidden card, and then at the center of her face.

She smiled, amused, “Do you plan to get it back later?”

“Of course.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” one of her eyebrows was raised in a questioning gesture. His eyebrows grew closer, irritated at her teasing remarks, and Riza let out a little bubble of laughter.

How did they even get here? Sitting among scattered cards on the rough worn floor of an inn in Eastern Amestris, teasing each other like they were teenagers again.

[ratg0r3]

Thinking..since u said u could go on about p1… 👀👀 I wanna hear ANY OR ALL the hcs u have of him!!! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 even the 😳 ones if u wanna share..

Okay okay okay

Bro is just a soft boy,

with slightly fucked up teeth (his incisors point out a lil bit),

he wears his hair up when doing chores n things and also when hes feeling less shy and more open (but he doesnt realize that he does)

When in lines he gets v paranoid and nervous but if hes w his s/o he almost wants to hide under their arms like a child (tho hes fukin massive at 6'8) and it helps calm him down enough to not make a scene

When shopping he makes sure that its organic or whatever cause hes scared of the pesticides, and he likes to get on avg 3 cans of food fr his stockpile (cause he be almost a doomsday prepper w all the cans he got)

His leather trenchcoat is well taken care of cause it has some sort of sentimental value from before, (idk what it might be) and its also a comfort item for when hes rlly upset

His weapons in his house are like semi organized but are just leaning against a wall in his living room, and in the corner theres a pile of explosives cause hes not good at relizing how of a safety risk that is (i also have a v specific layout of his house in my head)

When its warmer out he likes to wear a light grey hoodie and when its colder not only does he have his red sweater vest, he has a whole collection of neat ones (its a lil hobbie collecting cute sweater vests)

He likes to cuddle, a lot, hes one of those ppl that follow his partner around like a lost puppy and hugs them a lot or holds their hand

Hes hesitant on letting his partner touch his hair but once hes okay with it he likes his hair braided, and also lowkey being pet (give this mf chin scritches NOW)

Not only does he write in his journal, he does lil sketches (think author morgans journal but his sketches are a bit more shitty but still impressive)

When he gets excited (ie: sees smthn he really likes when shopping) hed go mute but smile a lot n you know the drill

He likes The Edgar Winter Group and anything funky (like free ride) and Queensryche and any similar bands to them

He takes rlly good care of his boots n trenchcoat and treats the leather n whatnot himself, he also shops at the army surplus cause its cheeper and can find more reliable items (thats where he got his gloves, they the woolen inserts)

He has a passion fr cooking and if he has the ingredients hed make you the best damn food you ever ate

<><><><><>

Thats all i can think of right now, also honorary mention, he likes hair pulling, thats like my only spicy take lol

[autumnworld19]

Hi Autumn! This idea has been growing on me, so I'm gonna share it with you. I'm thinking that our reader works as like a pole dancer at a club, moderately popular with her regulars. She's been doing this for a long time to make money, it's all she knows. The yandere is friends with some old money rich guy, and he gets dragged along to the club in the city because it's his friend's birthday. He's a country guy, not used to big cities. He hates the club, it's loud, it's noisy, so he fully intends to get drunk sitting in a corner of the bar. But then the reader comes out to dance, and it's like magic, the whole club can't stop looking at her. The yandere's friend manages to get her for a private performance, and the yandere's a snarky little shit, so he's bantering with the reader. The reader's not taking any of it personally because this is her job and what she gets paid for, but he can't stop thinking about her. And it makes him burn inside to think of her dancing for other men that aren't him.

I apologize for responding late! But went you sent this to me yesterday, I literally laughed out loud. Because I was just imaging a Yandere customer getting obsessed over a pile dancing reader. Literally it was fated for you to send this to me. And I’m so happy you wanted to share it with me.

But let me raise the stakes, how about the Yandere is a stationed soldier in some made up country. Like he’s a traditional, country man. Like in his mind, women shouldn’t be out and about, they need to be in the house taking the kids and her husband, and if she is??? Wheww that dress/skirt better not be any higher above her knees. He probably envisioned himself with the girl next door type, or the library type. Of course he would want a hidden sexiness to them, that only they show to him. The “lady in the streets, freak in the sheets”.

He probably regards himself as gentleman, and would be caught dare at a place like back at home, very small town and word gets around real quick, for you know what I mean. But it’s his superior’s bday or some kind of celebration, and he just hadddd to come 🙄. And when reader comes out. I dont have a description of what she’s wearing, because I honestly idk. So I’ll leave it up to you. She’s real sultry, And watching her do her VERY tame version of like a body roll/hip roll. But the crowd of uncultured men go crazy. But for him who never seen women in such an act in the first place, it knocked the wind out of his lungs. I imagine it was Like the 1960s (don’t ask I just love that time period). Like there’s no internet, no digital cameras. Pornhub dosen’t exist. The best he could hope for growing up as a teenage boy, was find some dirty magazines in his dad’s/uncle’s/grandfather’s stuff.

Other than that, you just don’t see stuff like this in the usual. So this is all new to him. He honesty dosen’t know how to act, but being the (like you said) snarky, machismos man he is, he puts up a tough act. He dosen’t want anyone noticing hes freaking out internally, both excitement and Anxiety.

And his friend is super drunk, and just offers a bunch of money to y/n just to give him a lap dance. With that amount of money? For just a simple lapdance? She’ll be a real idiot to refuse, she hurries to agree, before another girl can snatch up this great deal.

Y/N was going to perform this simple lapdance and then get the hell out. At first, he’s shell shocked. Like just frozen as a statue. She figured it might be his first time, thought he would be one of those shy types, you know the nice ones… so she starts talking to him and that’s when everything goes downhill. Her voice was enough for to break out of this hypnosis . He grabs her waist and starts dry grinding her. Of course she stops him, tells him “no touching unless you have more money to hand out”. He gives her money, but not only to do simple touches but to degrade her too. The whole time he just calls her names, this and that. And I can imagine our reader being a touch cookie with a even tougher and thick skin, so all his words just bounce off her. She just does what she needs to do and get out. So she completely silent with him. When it’s over, right in front of his face, one of her regulars (her favorite you can say), a soldier(could even be his army buddy), request a simple lapdance, and he watches her talk in this happy, upbeat, cheery tone/attitude while she walks this other customer to another room. And he’s angry as fuck. Like where was all this decent customer service when she was with him. His buddy explains he’s regular, and just encourages to come around move which is ultimately horrible for the reader of course 😂

And you’re right! I can see him be the insanely controlling and possessive type. Like he lays at night thinking about all the men she dance half naked for. He’s so angry, but yet, so hard. Because not only for her dignity but his too! How do you think he feels watching his girl dance for other men????

When he goes back home, after all these years. Guess who he sees again?

Seriously thank you for sending the ask in! Feel free to come and rant about whatever oc you have in mind!

~ Autumn

[donutsupremacy]

Partners in Crime

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Summary

"Teaming up with your agency's best spy, agent Shikanoin, the two of you were tasked to infiltrate a grand masquerade and retrieve a highly valuable toxin. However, neither of you were prepared to accidentally attract the other while doing so."

Warnings

Physical fighting that's badly written

Blood

Guns

A twinge of jealous and protective Heizou

Cussing

Non-consensual touching

Sexual jokes sprinkled in

Idk wtf i'm writing so this whole thing is just full of bullshit but I did it anyways because Heizou

Heizou is a little shit, but genuinely thinks you're the prettiest person he's ever seen in his whole life

The fighting part is half baked, but 100% cringe

Reader is gender neutral, attire is not mentioned

Spy AU

This fic is much longer than usual

Not proofread—

A/N: Happy Valentine's day! Celebrate with me as I sit on my bed, farming for Heizou's Crit DMG artifacts and cry in DEF% while simping for him~

This is especially for Heizou because I would sell my kidneys for him if he asked—

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Your romance begins here

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"He likes being late, i'll give you that." You grumbled impatiently, tapping your foot on the marble tiles of the floor. Your eyes glanced at the clock on the opposite side of the room, it was near 8PM, which is when the both you and your partner are supposed to be at the masquerade.

Two boxes sat on the desk, one red and the other [favorite colour], collecting dust since this afternoon. Both boxes contained your preferred attire, presumably his as well.

"Shikanoin just happens to live really far from the agency. You know, he always arrives 10 minutes late before a meeting." Kuki said, her eyes glued to the paper in front her. "Plus, you don't get to be on paperwork duty every single damn day..."

You chuckled, patting her on the back. "You're the only reliable one here, I would end up sleeping while reading halfway and drool on the papers." Kuki snorted while sorting out a small pile of papers, giving you a gentle punch to the shoulder.

You leaned back on the wall with your arms crossed, thinking back to when you received the mission. You have yet to see this elusive 'Shikanoin Heizou', neither has he actually met you. All you knew was that he was the best spy in the agency, also quite the troublemaker.

According to the task given by the director, both of you are to infiltrate a masquerade and search for a toxin that could not only sell for dozens, but also kill a whole elephant in one tiny drop.

It was odd, putting supposedly the best spy on the job, only to bring in someone else to help sounded pretty ridiculous to you. You're not even sure if you could work things out with this guy, he's rebellious and tends to push the wrong buttons all the time by being a huge tease.

You would just have to bite the bullet on this one.

"Shinobu! Nice to see you again so late in the night!" A sudden unfamiliar voice called out nearby, you whipped your head around to see a burgundy haired male sauntering towards the both of you. His olive eyes met yours, the corner of his lips perking upwards into a smirk.

You clicked your tongue, unfolding your arms and grabbing the two boxes from Kuki's desk. "Took you long enough, c'mon, go get changed." You tossed the red box to him and heades straight for the rest room, only to stop when you heard him whistle a little to loudly for your taste.

"Oh, so this is '[Full name]', hm? My, my, Shinobu, did you pick them out as my little helper personally for me? You certainly know my taste." Your cheeks grew warm at his compliment given in a casual tone, turning around to glare at him, only to have his surprisingly muscular arms hooked around your neck.

"H-Hey! Where do— y-your arm, Shikanoin!" You struggled to pry his arm off, facing away in hopes that he wouldn't see the blush on your face and realize that his charm had worked on you.

From not so far away, your green haired friend barely suppressed her laughter. To be honest, Shikanoin Heizou was right.

It was her who picked you out as his partner.

<Time skip>

You placed your [Favorite colour] mask over your face, barely batting an eye at your bored partner who was standing next to you, his eyes wandering around. You're not sure if he's scanning the place of if he's actually bored and mindlessly looking around.

After thanking the driver, you immediately walked off without waiting for Heizou. He stood there for a brief second, watching you walk away from him. The burgundy haired male jogged up to you, his face obscured by the mask he wore, but you could still see the playfulness in his eyes.

"Hey, now, sweet heart, why the long face? It's a party, parties are meant about having fun! So turn that frown upside down, yeah?" He chuckled, but you only rolled your eyes.

"I'll smile when we get inside." You whispered to him, noticing several other nobles nearby. You hear him chuckle, thankful for the mask covering your face.

"Buzzkill..." Shikanoin muttered in a dejected manner, watching you walk away from him. Still, he stood up straight, he wasn't going to let your little rejection slide so easily.

You have to admit, though, he looked quite charming in that suit of his.

Perhaps he could use that charm of his to coax out the location of the toxin from the host, if he were to be insane enough.

Entering the mansion, you marveled at the interior design of the marbled floor and the golden chandelier hanging above you. The room was flooded with nobles wearing all sorts of masks, many which covered their faces. Some took their masks off, complaining it would ruin their makeup.

However, your masks were no ordinary masks, but gadgets used to detect for the substance behind thin walls. You reached up to subtly press the tiny button behind your mask, pretending to adjust it. You looked around through the mask's green vision, but couldn't find anything.

You quietly clicked your tongue, grabbing onto Heizou's sleeves, only to realize he wasn't near you. "...Heiz— ugh." You bit your tongue from yelling his name, eyes glaring at the said spy who was now all the way across the room chatting with two ladies.

This was the best spy in the agency? You're starting to think the whole world is doomed now. You pressed the button behind your mask once more, pretending to adjust it as you began walking in a random direction, looking around to see where it could be.

Neither of you were given much information on where it could be, for all you know, it's possible the host had sold it off in an auction hours before the party. You had no choice but to continue foward in search of the toxin.

You spared another glance at your partner, finding out he was gone from his original position and now chatting with a group of men, a glass cup of wine in their hand.

Your eyes met with his, you narrowed your eyes at him, giving a subtle 'What are you doing!?' message to him. He lifted up a finger to his index, his eyes now serious. You nearly scoffed out loud, he was supposed to help you find the toxin but he would rather sneak off and chat around with others for no reason!? 'Some team effort this is...'

You turned away in a huff, continuing your search alone.

Unfortunately for the both of you, the host wasn't available at the moment, not until midnight. You would've tried to find the host and persuade them to reveal the toxin's location.

Maybe it would've ended in a fight either way, but it's better to save up your time and effort for this.

Not paying attention to your surroundings, you had realized you were lost and couldn't see Shikanoin anywhere now. You kept yourself from yelling out his name, opting to search for him instead in case he got himself into any trouble.

Even if he's as annoying, you still need to make sure he wouldn't be alone in a fight and get seriously injured.

You slide yourself through countless masked strangers, uttering out apologies when you stepped on their foot or attire. It wasn't long until you saw that familiar burgundy red hair of his, you let out a quiet sigh and reached out to grab his shoulder.

"You need to stop fooling around and start helpi— Oh! Uh..." You reeled your hand away when you were met with an unfamiliar face, now, you found yourself in a rather awkward position. "I-I'm so sorry, sir. I thought you were my friend."

You bowed your head apologetically and hurriedly turned around to continue looking for your partner, but a hand firmly grabbing onto your shoulders stopped you in your tracks. A velvety chuckle erupted from the man's throat, pulling you back to him. "Don't sweat it, sugar. Turn that frown upside down, yeah? You look cuter with a smile~"

He wasn't drunk, you could tell by the lack of alcohol in his breath. His eyes, though sober had a dangerous glint in them, the smile he wore was nothing but sinister.

He began trying to pull you closer to him, his hands moving from your shoulder to your hips, dangerously close to your rear. You cringed, feeling his fingers dig deeper into the fabric of your outfit and grazing against your skin.

"Thanks... but I need to find my friend—" You tried to push him away, afraid of drawing attention.

"Why, I think your friend has already ditched you. Such a pity, isn't it?" He chuckled, grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him. "Don't worry, sweetheart... I can show you a great time if you—"

"Unfortunately for you, good sir, they already have someone else showing them a good time." Once again, you were dragged away. This time, you smiled at your burgundy haired saviour, whose smile was less friendly and more threatening towards the man.

You came back to your senses when you realized his arm wrapped around your waist, your face burning bright red at how tight his hold was on you. "...At least don't hold me like this!" You hissed quietly at him, wishing to wipe the smirk off his face with a punch.

Honestly, though, you were more relieved to see him. You'd still take that to the grave anyways.

The man clicked his tongue, adjusting the cuff of his suit and reached out to grab you again. "Friend of them, I presume? Too bad, I already reserved a wonderful night with them—"

Heizou only chuckled, slapping his hand away rather harshly. "Oh? I already reserved a one way ticket to hell for you, wouldn't want to pass up that opportunity now, would you?" The man glared at your partner, gritting his teeth and balling up his shaking fist. "Dare to lay a finger on them again and not only will you have to look out for your... oh so fragile bones, but your reputation too."

Your partner gestured to the sea of people surrounding the three of you, a fight suddenly breaking out would be a disaster for your mission.

Noticing a few eyes already staring at the three of you, especially sending judgemental looks to the man and admiration towards Heizou. Because of his attractive appearance or his protective nature towards you, you're not sure.

Heizou's arms slipped away from your waist, now holding onto your hand. You looked down to see his fingers intertwining with yours, your blush worsening at the warmth radiating from his palm.

"Have a good night, my good sir." Winking teasingly at the furious man, Heizou brought you towards the opposite side of the room. You obediently followed him without another word, embarrassed of getting saved from this rebellious rascal.

Towards the corner of the ballroom, there were less and less people, the both of you had eventually entered an empty narrow hallway. Unfortunately, through your mask's radar, the toxin was no where to be seen.

"...Are you alright? He didn't actually hurt you, did he?" Heizou asked as soon as the two of you were in a more quieter spot, his hands holding onto your bright red cheeks and checking you for any injuries. It was almost cute to see how worried he was for you.

You stammered out his name, swatting his hand away while blushing madly at his gentle touches. "I-I'm fine! Don't coddle me like this, it's embarrassing!" You hissed, adjusting your attire. "And this wouldn't have happened had you stuck with me from the beginning!"

It didn't take long for his original attitude to come back, that annoying laughter of his making you fume. "Shinobu was right, you're quite cute when you're cranky."

"I'm not— She said what!?"

"Relax." He pinched your cheek, elicting a pained squeak from you. "The only reason I went around chatting was to search for the toxin too, without looking suspicious, of course. Just to get some more intel on the host as well, you know? You didn't actually assume I would just simply ignore an important mission like this, did you?"

"You!!—..." You paused before angrily crossing your arms, furrowing your brows at him. "...Continue."

As embarrassed as you've been feeling since meeting him, he was technically still better than you for this job. He's got a point, too. You might've looked odd walking around while holding your mask awkwardly.

It still begs the question, why did he need a partner? Let alone you? Was it because you need to supervise him? Or was it because he actually needed your help?

Seeing your cooperation, Heizou grinned triumphantly. "The toxin isn't in the main ballroom, but we haven't check the hallways yet. It's not here and since there's four connecting from the ballroom to... wherever they lead to, let's split up again and cover two each."

"Fair enough... but what if you or I run into trouble?" You asked.

"Forgot to give you these." Heizou chuckled, raising something small in his hands. You didn't get a good look at what it was before he suddenly moved closer towards you.

You froze, your entire face growing hotter as he neared you with that gentle, yet, teasing smile of his. "Wh-What are you!?—" You sealed your eyes shut, muscles stiffening in anticipation. You could feel his breath hitting the surface of your lips, your heart beating loudly in your ears.

Yet, nothing happened.

You opened one eye, only to see that smirk once more. "Too impatient for your reward, huh?"

"Wh-What!?" You stammered out, lifting a hand to touch your cheek. Your fingers happened to graze a small device implanted on the shell of your ear, it was yet another gadget.

"It'll help us communicate with eachother better." The male explained, brushing aside his hair to show the same device on his ear. "You really need to stop being so inappropriate~"

You scoffed, giving him a punch to the shoulder. "I wasn't thinking about anything! You pervert!"

"I'm the pervert? You're the one assuming things." Heizou laughed, his smile sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering, and at the same time, your blood boiling.

You grumbled underneath your breath, giving him your middle finger before leaving him in the halls, another groan of annoyance erupting from your throat at his velvety laughter.

Watching you leave through the doors of the hallway and into the ballroom, the male lifted a hand, touching his lips. "...Heh, you really thought, huh?" He couldn't hear his own chuckle, the muffled noises of chatter and music still loud in the hallways.

"How cute~"

Meanwhile, you sucessfully arrived at a hallway on the other side of the mansion. Unfortunately, there happen to be quite a number of people roaming around.

You straightened your posture and walked foward, giving a nod to those who passed by you. With the radar still on, you try to subtly scanned the whole area while greeting the guests. It's hard trying to be inconspicuous while looking for something at the same time.

It was a fruitless search, you've arrived at the end of the hall and the toxin was, once again, no where to be seen. You glanced outside, suddenly seeing several black limos parked outside, they weren't there moments ago.

You decided to shrug off the detail and turned around, exiting through the same door you entered through and look for the second hallway.

Heizou, on the other hand, came up to a dead end for the first hallway and was now in the second one, similarly to you. Thankfully, it was dead empty with no one else inside. Perhaps he entered a restricted area of the mansion, but it's not like he cared anyways.

The hallway had several expensive paintings on the wall, he spared a second to admire the artist's works that had golden frames with gorgeous embellishments. At the end had a large window, showing a large well-mantained garden outside. Clicking on his mask's button, he looked around while walking down the hall.

Through the mask's radar, everything appeared green, nothing unusual in sight. Not until he was halfway down the hall did something white emerge in the radar.

Heizou stopped in his tracks, facing what he presumed was the toxin and lifted the mask. It was hidden behind a painting. The male snorted in amusement and grabbed the painting's golden. "A picture? Honestly, are we in a movie or som—"

He paused as soon as he removed the painting, settling it on the ground before realizing he was now facing a safe with a rotary lock. The male clicked his tongue in annoyance before pressing on his ear's communicator. "Hey, (Name), I found the toxin."

On the other side of the mansion happened to be you, still walking down the 2nd hall. "Really? I'm on my way, where are you?" You asked, retracing your steps back to the door you entered.

"The hallway closest to the mansion's garden... Y'know, it might take a while, i'm not an expert at breaking into safes." He chuckled awkwardly in your ear, almost as if he was embarrased. And he was.

This is your chance now. "Oh? Is the legendary Shikanoin Heizou actually struggling with something for once?" You laughed, it was your turn to do the teasing.

"In my defense, I rarely get missions where a safe is involved. I usually handle those 'Take down all bad guys and bring in safe to agency so they can take care of it' types of missions. I don't have any gadgets for safe breaking either." Heizou spoke quickly, you could picture him raising both of his arms while talking to you.

"Stay right there, i'm on my way." You stated right before you exited the hallway and back into the ballroom.

"Take your time, it's gonna be a while."

<Time skip>

"There you are." You said right as you entered the hall with Heizou inside. The said male happened to be on one knee, fiddling with the safe's lock.

Hearing your voice, the male looked to his side, grinning widely when he saw you. "I told you to take your time, didn't I? You could go on a walk, taste the delicacies... Yet, you sure came as soon as you could. Do you really miss me?~"

You scoffed, his teases never failing to make you blush. "Y-You wouldn't be there to protect me if I ran into another creep."

"So, you consider me as your protector?" He asked, going from a smirk into a gentle smile, as if he were fond of the idea.

"More like that one annoying puppy who follows me around everywhere." You scoffed. "Now move. Let me handle this."

Heizou stepped aside with a puzzled expression, watching you take his spot. "...You know how to open this thing?"

You chuckled and took off your mask, flicking his forehead gently. "Unlike you, I actually pay attention in training." You held the lock in one hand and began spinning the center.

It's one of your primary skills; unlocking a safe without the need of a tool. Not that you liked flaunting off your skills to others, but you would absolutely love to see the look of disbelief on Heizou's face once you cracked it open.

You blocked out his soft mumbles, focusing on the sound of the lock's noises and the light vibrations on your hand.

Heizou just stared at you, the corner of his lips perking upwards at your focused expression. The way your brows were knitted together, eyes trained on the lock as you soun the center. You were adorable. If he had his phone, he would love to take a picture of you right now.

It wasn't long before you felt and heard that one particular click on your palm, a victorious grin replacing your focused expression when you slip the lock out. "Easy as pie." You smirked at the male, whose eyes widened at your skill.

"Man alive... You've got skills, partner. I'll give you that." He praised, pinching you on the cheek once more.

You whined, swatting his hand away. "Wh-Whatever!" Once again, it was you who got flustered instead of him. "C-Come on, let's get this damn thing and leave already!"

You quickly grabbed the safe's handle and pull it open, inside was a small glass tube containing a glowing green substance. It was the very item the both of you have been looking for.

"Bingo." You both breathed out in sync, looking at eachother in shock.

"Motto stealer." You snorted, giving him a punch on the shoulder.

"That's not the only thing i'll be stealing tonight, excluding this, of course~" He winked at you suggestively, smirking at your flustered response of uttering out half-baked insults at him.

He took out a pair of blue elastic gloves tucked into his suit's pockets, slipping them onto his hands and grabbing the toxin. His hand, though protected by the gloves, chilled at a touch of the cold tube.

"It's not polite to steal other people's belongings, you know."

The both of you spun around at the same time, coming face to face with a man in a suit, presumably the manor's owner. "I suggest you put it back where it belongs."

"Oh, how convincing." Heizou replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he placed the toxin in his pocket with the gloves. "What's next? Ask us to bow down and kiss your shoes?"

You stifled your laughter, elbowing his side as a message, telling him to stop his tomfoolery.

"Mayhaps. That doesn't sound like a bad idea... does it now, men?" He chuckled, as if on cue, several— about 7— large and bulky men appeared out of no where. Now the both of you were surrounded on all sides. Two men stood beside him, holding guns pointed directly at the both of you. "Well? Are you prepared to bow down?"

"Bow down to this!" You hissed, pinning Heizou down to the ground, successfully avoiding two bullets that nearly shot the men behind you. With a swift kick to the hand, one of the guns flew up into the air.

Heizou, recovering from your sudden tackle, lunged towards the other men. Both men were now disarmed, but not harmless. You grabbed the gun as Heizou grabbed the other, you turned around and aimed for one of their legs.

Your mission was to take the toxin, not massacre a whole group.

However, as soon as you pulled the trigger, nothing happened. Your eyes widened in confusion before a fist was sent flying at your direction, you won't be able to block this one.

Thankfully, Heizou had grabbed said fist by the wrist, twisting the man's arm before sending a punch towards the face. The man cried out in pain, stumbling backwards. "These guns are useless!" You groaned, tossing yours away to who knows where.

"There are only two of you, I don't see the problem." The owner sneered. "Get them!"

Heizou, tossing away his gun, nodded his head towards the men while grinning at you. "Got any more skills you wanna show off?"

You smirked back at him, the both of you getting into a prepared stance. "Oh, thanks for asking, i'd love to rub them into your face."

adrenaline coursed through your blood as the group of men sprinted towards the both of you, your hands balling up into fists. The mission didn't say you couldn't knock out a few people either.

You ducked, dodging the first blow before sending a punch towards the abdomen, before delivering another one towards the chin, taking one down with ease.

Heizou, who was right beside you, was the first to send a punch towards one of the men before turning around to use his elbow and jab the other in the stomach, another one down.

In sync, the both of you briefly leaped upwards a little and kicked them in their faces, sending them flying and eventually barrelling into the others at the back.

"Ah, I see you are a copycat." Heizou teased as he sends a flurry of kicks towards one of the more conscious men, even while fighting, he couldn't helo but admire your swift and powerful fighting techniques.

"You act like you invented fighting!" You scoffed, moving to the side in a smooth motion to dodge one of the men lunging towards you. Seizing the opportunity, you grabbed the man by the back and easily flung him to the other side of the hall, like tossing a ball. "I'll show you who's the better fighter!"

"Be my guest." He chuckled, admiring the burning passion in your eyes.

As the fight continued, the amount of men slowly dwindled. The both of you made sure to not severely injure them, just knock them out cold.

Despite having the upper hand in numbers, the owner slowly began to realise that he had already lost the battle. After the two of you have dealt with the men, he was next.

Afraid of his punishment, the owner slowly retreated back, opting to escape into the ballroom. He doubt either of you would have the guts to harm any of the innocent guests in search of him. Besides, no toxin is worth his head.

Unfortunately, you were just too fast.

"You know, this aaaaall could've been avoided had you just kept quiet and not engage in a fight with us." Heizou said, dangling the toxin between his gloved fingers.

"But no, you just decided to butt on in." You added, giving him a coy smile as you stretched your slightly sore limbs, elicting a satisfying pop from the joints. "Luckily, though, we're not supposed to kill anyone."

"Ahaha~ But that doesn't mean we can't knock you out." Heizou lifted up his fist while grabbing the collar of the man, who desperately clawed at his hand. You mimicked Heizou, lifting up your own first.

"Goodnight~" The both of you sung at the same time, before punching him at the center of his face. Letting go of his collar, the now unconsious man collapsed onto the floor, his face donning a large purple bruise from your strength combined.

You huffed, twisting your wrist. "I can see why you like these missions involving fights, now."

Heizou chuckled as he pulled out a small communicator, lifting it up to his lips. "Sara, come in. We've got the toxin, send someone over to pick us up. Also, send someone good with speeches over, or whatever. Maybe Thoma will do. The host is down, we need someone to wrap up the party without stirring some suspicion."

As per usual, you dragged the men and propped them against the wall, cuffing their wrists together. Once you were done, Heizou placed his elbow on your shoulder, leaning on you. "Well done, partner. Does this mean we're even now?"

"We never have been, jackass." You scoffed in amusement.

"Never have you say? How about that reward you were looking foward to from the very beginning?" He asked, his eyes half-lidded with that annoying smirk of his.

"...What reward—" You were abruptly cut off when the male suddenly planted his lips on yours, his arms wrapped around your waist before you could even trip on thin air.

Though, caught off guard, the kiss barely lasted a few seconds. He pulled away before you could do anything else, you struggled to balance yourself once he withdrew from your lips. "That one~" He hummed, walking away from you with a triumphant smirk.

"Wh-Wha— Hey! Get back here! I'll kick your ass if it's the last thing i'll do!" You barked, catching up to him and spewing out more insults towards him. All the while he basked in your attention.

Needless to say, the mission was a sucess.

And so was this blooming relationship.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

A/N: Happy Valentines day, everyone!

Yes this took nearly half a month to finish, I had school to attend to.

[rosenallies]

omg well i remember talking to you on here about bratpack going to prom together 🥹would u maybe wanna write a little something based off of that xx

Idk anything about Canadian prom and I also did not attend my own prom so all of this knowledge is from tv and movies and whatnot <3 so if it’s cliche just know that that’s all I know <3

——

“Oh don’t you two look amazing!” Synthia’s mother squealed, ushering Gia and Kendall in the door.

“Thank you, Ms.-“

“Gia, please call me Heather. You two look so great I can’t wait for Synthia to come down so I can get some pictures. Synthia, come down here, your dates are here!”

She smiled wide at them, excitement written on her face. “I’m so glad she has you two. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry but-ugh- I can’t help it!”

Just as tears pricked at her mother’s eyes, Synthia turned the corner and made her way down the stairs, catching Gia and Kendall’s attention. She looked absolutely breathtaking in every way in a poofy dress that matched the delicate lavender of Gia’s suit and Kendall’s sleek gown.

“Wow,” Gia and Kendall breathed in unison, unable to stop the stars from twinkling in their eyes as they watched her step down the stairs.

“Hi,” she said softly as she reached the bottom of the stairs, reaching for Gia’s hand for them to put her matching corsage on.

“You look so-“

Gia was suddenly interupted by the shutter of a camera and Synthia’s mom cooing at them.

“Mom, please,” Synthia whined.

“Hey, one day you’ll thank me for taking pictures. Now, all three of you pose for a picture!”

After one too many pictures, Synthia and Gia found themselves piled into Kendall’s car as she drove them to their high school where the dance was being held. Synthia’s mom offered to rent a limo to make the night more magical, but all three of them were fine with Kendall driving, the extra things were nice but all they needed to make the night magical was each other.

“Are you ready?” Kendall asked as she parked the car, watching all the couples flooding into the gym.

Anyone that knew them, knew the three of them were inseparable but this was the first time they’d be out as being more than just a tight knit group of best friends.

Gia pressed gentle kisses to both of their cheeks. “I’m ready.”

Synthia took a shaky little breath, a soft smile then gracing her lips. “Me too.”

“Me three,” Kendall agreed.

Hand in hand, they walked into the decorated gym, music and strobe lights putting them in the mood to party.

Hours later, Synthia found herself giggling, slightly tipsy from the punch someone spiked, leaning into Gia’s side, clutching onto Kendall’s hand. She was just about to suggest they leave and head back home when the gentle sound of one of her favorite slow songs echoed through the feature.

“Oh my god, you guys, can we please dance to this? Please!”

Kendall chuckled, squeezing her hand. “How are all three of us gonna slow dance together?”

“I think we should dance,” Gia replied with a shrug, “it’s a nice song and it reminds me of us.”

Happily, Synthia pulled them both to the dance floor, finding a spot right in the middle, couples dancing closely all around them.

“Maybe we could just- kind of hold hands and sway?”

“Like this,” Synthia said, positioning Gia’s arm around her waist and snaking her arm around Kendall’s, pushing them closer together. It was an odd huddle, but they were close and that was all that mattered in the moment.

“This is really nice,” Gia said softly, squeezing Synthia’s hip and Kendall’s shoulder as they swayed to the music. “I’m really glad I get to experience this with you both.”

Kendall smiled and leaned in to kiss both of them, one after the other. “Me too.”

“Me three,” Synthia agreed.

[innocencelives]

idk if this post will help anyone, but i am a disabled individual who has to travel in the snow daily catching busses, as i dont drive. besides just walking REALLY slow i find it helps if i like… pretend im liam neeson in the The Grey (2011) so i made a master key for different snow conditions and how to best proceed in them:

Winter Travel Key for Disabled and Clumsy people

Icey Alleys- any sidewalk or pathway thats partially clear, with some invisible ice, some slush, some fresh snow. often stepping between clear spots and not clear spots. look at the ground alot, if you can walk on clear spots do it but if theres ice and no snow on those spots, walk on the untouched snow-its a harder walk but theres more traction and you wont slip as easy.

Car Tundra- driveways with lots of car traffic or parking lots that havent been shoveled. highly varied territory, some ice, some slush, some clear spots, some rock hard snow, its unexpected and random. every step is gonna be different here, you dont know what your walking into so just go really slow and try to avoid the ice, slush or snow is always better.

Slush Passes - corners of streets or crossing the street. at the corners theres usually rock hard snow thats easy to trip over, dont assume every foot will just go through a big pile here, it could be totally hard. the snow has been heavily compressed here and is usually stable but as always mind the ice. crossing the street will have dirty watery slush, its not ice but its still slippery so go slow in those spots and do not worry about walking slow!! the cars can wait.

Death Traps- the most dangerous. theres small pockets where the ice is completely clear with no traction or fresh snow. just standing on one of these you will be slipping. if your not sure, brush a foot very carefully on it and you can feel how slippery it is. avoid these at all costs

Mini Mountains- this is where the grass next to the sidewalk is, its where people have shoveled all there snow. Its not icey or slippery but its deep, and often times you dont know how deep it is when you put your foot down. i would rather cross at the stoplight, but if you have to, lift your feet up high between each step and once you think youve touched the ground, try to push a little deeper to make sure before you make your next step.

thats it! im not a scientist or survivalist by any means but as i have mentioned i AM liam neeson in The Grey (2011)

[cryptishh]

Prompt: Bubbling Cauldron

Decided to go with the mythology of my home, Cymru. Mainly the story of Ceridwen and Taliesin. (Tali-es-in, not Tali-sin.)

I'm going to do a read more to just write the story because I love it too much to avoid it.

💀 COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN! 💀

So Ceridwen is a Goddess of poetry, inspiration and transformation.

She lived with her husband, Tegid Foel by Llyn Tegid (aka, Bala Lake). They had two children. The oldest, a beautiful girl named Crearwy. (Her name has two other spellings, Creirwy and Creidwy.) She was known to be the most beautiful girl in the land. Their youngest, a boy named Afagddu (Or Morfran) He was seen as ugly and unintelligent. (Poor sod)

Ceridwen, worried about her son and wanting the best for him, prayed to the Arwen (basically, the source of inspiration and knowledge) and created a potion to help him at least become smart.

She hired a blind man named Morda and a young boy named Gwion Bach to help her make the potion. (Some sites don't mention Morda so I'm assuming there are version where she disguised herself as a blind man?? idk) Gwion was tasked to stir the potion non-stop for a whole year whilst Morda was to keep the fire burning.

The potion itself had strict rules, it took a year to make and only the first three drops of the potion would grant the person all knowledge and powers of Arwen.

Depending on where you read, Gwion Bach either got bored/irritated about working all year and not getting any of the potion and took the first three drops; or he stirred the potion too much by mistake and it splashed on his hand and scolded him, causing him to lick it off. Either way, he drank the potion first.

Knowing that Ceridwen would be down right pissed at finding this out, Gwion Bach ran. When Ceridwen found out, she began to chase him.

Gwion Bach gained the power of shape shifting from the potion, so he turned into a rabbit to get a headstart, Ceridwen turned into a greyhound to catch up. Gwion jumped in a river and became a fish, so Ceridwen turned into an otter. Gwion transformed into a wren, so Ceridwen changed to a hawk. When Gwion was cornered, he hid in a pile of corn seeds, so Ceridwen turned into a hen, pecking and eating each seed until she ate Gwion in rage.

Not long after, Ceridwen found out she was pregnant, who she knew was Gwion reborn. She vowed to kill the baby when he was born but found herself not able to when she gave birth to a handsome baby boy. Instead, she cast him out to sea Moses style.

He was eventually found by a prince named Elffin who raised him with the name Taliesin. Taliesin would grow up to become the greatest bard in all the land.

[anonymous-dentist]

random YD question but. you said in ch.12 that Q's mum taught him to wait til marriage but also he & Karl have been romantically attached for, what, 5 years? this made me curious about YD!Quackity's thoughts on infidelity and what "counts" as infidelity. does he see himself as having cheated on his husband? if not, did he refrain from cheating because of his mum's advice or because he was afraid of schlatt? idk im just so interested in Q's worldview and how ppl like schlatt & karl fit into it.

C!Quackity in general is a very complex character, and so is YD!Quackity. I’ve spent a bit thinking about this question, so here’s what I’ve got to say. I’m gonna ramble a bit, so sorry!!

Quackity has never kissed Karl.

Let me get something from a little worldbuilding oneshot I wrote for J last month:

Quackity wants to cheat on his husband with his best friend, and he hates it.

“Fuck your husband,” Wilbur declares, throwing back another shot. They’re two hours into their bi-monthly forbidden, secret drunk karaoke night, and Wilbur is already as drunk as a walking corpse can get.

Quackity smiles and raises his own shot glass of blood in a toast that Wilbur gladly accepts.

“Fuck my husband!” Quackity cheers. He can’t really get drunk, unlike Schlatt with his weird alcohol-blood cocktails, but the rush of the evening is still enough to leave him feeling a little tipsy.

He stares down at his cell phone an hour later. Karl’s contact is pulled up, but he doesn’t dare call him.

Wilbur slides an arm over Quackity’s shoulders and murmurs drunkenly into his ear, “Just call him, man. You look like a horse.”

Quackity snorts and looks at him amusedly. “A horse?”

Wilbur nods, serious. “Long face.”

He reaches out and pulls down the corners of Quackity’s already-frowning mouth. Quackity smacks him until he backs off with a giggle.

“I’m married,” he sighs. “I can’t just…”

“It’s not like you’re actually, uhm, doing anything. Friends hang out all the time!”

Like okay take that with a grain of salt because I’m still kinda fuzzy on specifics here, but… yeah!

He felt horrible about it, because, as we’ve seen in his little pre-canon oneshot, he still loved Schlatt at least a little. More than that, he loved the power that he thought he had gotten from being Schlatt’s partner (in multiple senses of the term.) But also? He didn’t feel that bad, because he’s always known that Schlatt is a bit of a piece of shit. But also? He felt really bad about it… for a certain period of time. He gave up on that pretty soon after he and Karl had a proper talk about things and he realized, wow, is this what it’s like to have someone actually love you?

So yeah he’s like, yeah, I cheated on my husband, but it’s not like I had any other choice. He couldn’t exactly divorce Schlatt for a couple of reasons, but also? He almost doesn’t consider what he did cheating anymore because he genuinely doesn’t consider the last like decade or so of his relationship with Schlatt as anything but a business relationship. He still felt a bit of love for Schlatt, but he doesn’t think that Schlatt felt any for him.

Karl’s smile is small, but it’s warmer than a campfire. He raises a hand to cup Quackity’s cheek. Quackity nuzzles into the touch with only a smidge of shame.

His wedding ring is on the side table somewhere beneath a pile of general rubbish. Schlatt won’t be home for another two weeks. There’s plenty of time to find it.

(Also from the same worldbuilding oneshot)

But not once has he ever kissed Karl, and we know that he wants to because he’s admitted as much in his pov segments. He’s down bad. The problem is, and it’s always been, that he’s afraid. He is a very scared character, and so is c!Quack. He doesn’t want to lose anything or anyone, and that includes Karl in this case. Like okay so their relationship has kind of been an open secret for a good while, but only in the same sense as like tabloid photos. No one is really sure, because why would Quackity openly cheat on literal monster J. Schlatt? He’d get himself killed doing that. And that’s how Quackity likes it. Yeah, he’d like to be open about it (he’s been planning his and Karl’s wedding in a notebook for like five years now), but he doesn’t want Karl getting hurt. When Schlatt was alive, Quackity was very careful because he knew that Schlatt was dangerous. Even now that Schlatt is dead, his legacy lives on in the back of Quackity’s brain. He’s fucking scared and paranoid of anything going wrong and something happening to Karl because of him, so. Yeah.

I don’t think any of that made any actual sense so sorry..

[frogsandfries]

I think I need a chiro.

My back has been at least part of my migraines for years. I need my insurance info to know if it'll be covered. I don't mind if all they can do is manual adjustment or whatever.

My girl cat woke me up this time; she was mad that I'm hogging the new bed all to myself. My boy was having seemingly the time of his life sitting on the corner quietly, not moving, the hours that I slept.

I'm so bummed that I didn't, at the very least, like, get the spilled ink cleaned up or something.

I didn't get to take all this garbage out--I got several larges boxes with the mattress and the pillows, plus the desk garbage, the regular garbage, and the used litter all need to go out. It's just been so goddamn hot out after work and it's three flights down hhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhh and I haven't needed to take out the household garbage for years so it's definitely an adjustment.

Maybe if it's so difficult to do during work, I should try taking just some of it tomorrow before work. Just some. Plus, if my migraine relieves, it'll be good to get outside. I meant to today, since garbage takes up so much more of the space proportionally. You couldn't pay me to go outside with a migraine. You never realize how much light actually gets through cloud cover until you have a migraine--it's worse when there is no cloud cover.

I was so desperate for steak today, I ordered dinner. The medicine didn't want to be neighbors with fries, so that's all I got to eat before it came right back up. The meal came with crab and a roll, and butter sauce, so naturally, I made a sandwich! That I didn't get to eat.....I had to put it in the fridge. I think I'm going to make a solid grocery run this weekend, get some cheese for my stuffed rice balls aaaannnndddd......idk, maybe frozen chicken? A bowl of cut fruit? I feel like I need to justify being a fancy bitch and buying cut fruit, but look, I'm one freaking person. There's no way I'm eating a whole pineapple, and a whole cantaloupe, and a whole honeydew melon, plus a whole pint of strawberries, a whole pint of blueberries, and a whole pint of raspberries and/or blackberries--that's generally the fruit mix I purchase. First, that's like, ten times more money than I would spend for the bowl. Second, ten times more food than I would purchase and reliably eat. The fruit bowl is proportionally more expensive than the fruit itself, but the overall investment is less money and less waste. It maths. Plus, naturally, I'm buying more ensure. I should get some granola bars to snack on, maybe some more applesauce packets, definitely some rolled oats, more oatmilk. I have to set aside some money for another smoothie box.

Now that I'm up, the neighbors are back at it with their obscenely loud music at nearly ten in the evening 🙄. Somebody went off with a drill as I was laying down and I groaned and they seemed to stop, so I appreciate that.

My sister was like "stop staring at screens" and I'm like "that's literally how I pay the bills". Now she's arguing with me that I don't have good screen hygiene: look. I have matte screen protectors on my phone and tablet, currently my only devices. The monitors for work are matte. The last time I had a migraine at work, I turned down the brightness to 25%. The brightness on my phone is regularly about 25% or less. My phone and tablet also have yellow adjusters that cycle throughout the day. I'm doing the best I can. I really believe it's more, I just got this mattress. My back is probably fucked from sleeping on the couch and piles of blankets. Plus, I've always had back issues--I first really noticed them...... what was it, 2017 when I got my first ever sitting-down job? I had another incident in 2018, after sitting on a cement floor for what my body thought was too long.

[praphit]

Halloween: All Good Things

Everything comes to an end. In a world where we all have "my truth", I find it kinda comforting that there are still some things that we all must bow to - one being, you ain't beating death. You might say that this empirical truth is depressing... well, that depends on ones perspective.

Take the “Halloween” franchise - 

Michael Myers has been killing people for over 40 years now. Forty years of Michael stabbing people, lurking behind trees, staring into windows, staring out of windows, punishing the stupidity of young people, 40 years of that creepy theme music, breaking into homes, stabbing more people, him getting shot at, him getting impaled, him getting burnt up, him coming back to stab more people, and most notably, him bleeping with the same woman... for 40+ years! That's a long marriage of horror.

Laurie Strode, our hero?? - 

i guess, says "Enough is enough, Michael! I'm too old for this shit! You don killed almost everyone I know. I'm done. This ends. I retire. And If I see yo psycho ass again, I'm ending YOU."

But, from where Mikey stands, it's all good, baby! The last movie "Halloween Kills" wasn't joking. He spilled enough blood in that movie to fill of pool. The whole town is afraid of him. The franchise is a huge success. He's got a bunch of groupies and hoes who adore him.. He's got all kinds of merch paper flowing his way. He's been living his best life! Mike replies to Laurie "Bitch, don't mess with my money! This ain't over til I say it's over! Now, you suck it up, and meet some new people for me to kill."

But, Laurie is not a push-over:

THE END

In this corner, we've got Laurie, 

who says to herself "This Slasher Queen lifestyle just ain't for me anymore. It's time to be a responsible grandmother." She buys a house (why in the same neighborhood where Michael, who is still loose, has been killing for 40 years... idk) but she's decorating for the holidays, she bakes, buys some granny panties and some mothballs, and spends time with the only family that Michael hasn't killed yet. She continues her quest to get into the pants of Will Patton,

(Mmm! Look at that sexy beast) 

and tries to live a normal life.

She even starts writing a book about her... "adventures". She's happy - It's been a long time since we've seen that.

Don't think she doesn't still have some guns around though. Laurie's serious when it comes to Michael.

And in this corner, we've got the OG - 

living in the sewers, eating God knows what (rats maybe), sitting in a pile of his own filth, in the shadows. Weakened and tired from all of the killing of the last movie. I felt kinda sad for Mike. He's so old! I mean every now and again he pokes his head out to kill a few people, but for the most part he's in retreat mode, hanging and banging in the sewers with Pennywise and the ninja turtles. UNTIL... (well, I won't spoil anything)

Some dude (or dudette:), due to some unfortunate events, is now looking to Michael for some guidance. They want to be like Mike. There's nothing that will recharge an old person's battery quite like young people taking an interest in what they do. He and his disciple went to Walmart to pick up some kitchen knives, and they went to work.

Eventually, Mike regains his confidence and decides to put an end to Jamie Lee Curtis's reign of terror over his life. Then, maybe find himself a new woman to harass. There's gotta be some version of "Tinder" for that. Now. Mike is back! He's like "How she gonna tell ME it's over?? Who the bleep does she think she is??! I'm Michael muthableepin Myers!"

THE FIGHT

Laurie's "final girl" senses start tingling, I guess, cuz she doesn't even need to hear or see Michael. She just knows that he is close. Or maybe it was the stench of him living in the sewers for the last few years.

It doesn't take long for them to start coming to blows. After all of these decades, I still don't understand the rules with Mike: Sometimes, he's evil personified and supernatural, and other times he can get his ass beaten my old ladies, teenagers, and the occasional rapper.

So, some of that is annoyingly still going on here. But, a hell of a fight! At one point Laurie busts out a sweet, Mortal Kombat style leg sweep. How long has she been holding on to that one??!

I was exhausted when I went to see this movie; long days, lately. I was just asking for the movie to be entertaining enough for me not to fall asleep. That would be horrible if the murder was so boring that I slept through it. But, I didn't. This movie is entertaining, and in my opinion, well done... just not in the ways some may have wanted.

If you've looked at reviews, you'll notice some division. If you came for the slashing, you might leave disappointed. There's killing of course, but really only one solid killing spree, and it's not even done by Michael. That brings up another complaint that I've read - Mikey is kind of a side plot in his own movie. That's debatable, but I can see why people would say that.

They were honest about the Halloween Kills" title, and they're honest here. This is a movie about the end. Michael is old and busted. Laurie is old and crazy. Her family wants nothing to do with the town anymore. These story lines have kinda run their course. And honestly, how much blood do we, the audience, need out of one franchise?? I'm sorry, that sounded wrong the moment I typed it. SO MUCH MORE BLOOD, OBVIOUSLY. What a stupid question for me to ask.

My point is that this whole thing (as we've known it) truly comes to an end. I, for one, appreciate how the writers and the director chose to show evil's long-suffered impact, how evil can be weakened, and though it tries to spread... how it can be cut out of our lives for good... unless some piece of it is left 

*evil grin* 

They're being bold, and trying something new to end this trilogy. Plus, Jamie Lee Curtis was acting her ass off in this movie; she certainly didn’t have to.

While I have my own complaints about the movie:

some of the writing, why Laurie's granddaughter is so stupid, and the general lack of police, BUT I side with the minority. I liked it.

Grade: B-

Perhaps it's time for Laurie and Michael to take their final bows. It's sad to watch as something ends for someone, when they haven't realized it yet. You don't wanna go out like that. Acknowledge the end, stare it in the face, pick up some K-Y Jelly and a knife, and get on with it.

[steelycunt]

oh oh ohhh these a goodd!!! and you’ll ruin me either way but because i don’t feel like feeling like particular shit i’m gonna ask forrrrr….. actually… okay im stuck between 1 and 13 so you take your pick!! this is a hostage situation btw if u make me sad i’ll… like. idk. threaten you with a nerf gun i’ve stolen from my brother or smth. i’m still trying to figure it out leave me alone!

(also also also sending u a bowl of soup with extra crackers thru the mail!! hopefully it stays warm!! and hopefully a kiss on the cheek will help you feel all better as well!! isn’t that how it goes with healing someone sick? a true love’s kiss? sending it either way! xoxo)

LIV LIV LIV!! LOML!!! i am so endlessly sorry this is so late...i am The Worst...but i wanted it to be happy after all i put you through with literally murdering remus in the last drabble....only the best and the loveliest for you!! you, the best and the loveliest!! here you go!! seeing as i did 13 before, i went with:

1. things you said at 1 am

He says: “Budge over, you.”

Remus obeys. When they started this, he might’ve asked, why or did you have a nightmare again or is everything alright. He never cared for the answer, but it used to buy him a few seconds—used to give him just enough time to swallow his own spit, just enough time to fashion a makeshift exoskeleton out of flannel pyjama bottoms and the dry skin of his elbows.

Now, he has less need of it: Sirius isn’t all that scary, really. At this time of night—Remus cuts a glance at his bedside table, 1 a.m. or thereabouts, supplies his wristwatch, dutifully—when he’s standing at the edge of Remus’ fourposter, he’s not so bright, not so blazing. A bit more fifteen-year-old boy.

“There you go.” Remus shuffles sideways, tugs his duvet away to let Sirius clamber in. “Feels like letting a stray in out of the cold,” he tells him; Sirius snorts as he burrows down into the mattress.

“Mm, well,” he murmurs, turning onto his shoulder, “I do have fleas.”

"God. Charming."

Sirius presses his chilled foot against Remus’ ankle—maybe to be spiteful, or maybe just to watch Remus snatch his leg away, only to move it back moments later (he doesn’t actually mind). “Horrible mutt,” Remus snaps, disgruntled, and Sirius cackles quietly.

Back when it was reserved for nightmares, this thing they do, there was none of this: Sirius would come hurtling, fleeing something, all torn about the mouth. He’d come rearranged, like a building turned to rubble (except for the times it was Remus, instead), and Remus would let him in and they’d sit here silently, stare into the dark like it could hurt them.

Neither of them have nightmares like they used to, but Sirius still comes—more and more, in recent months. This is the third night in a row, and sometimes Remus wonders if they’re too old for it to be alright: they barely both fit in the bed anymore, new bones jutting into sides and limbs stacked on top of each other. Like one of those old-timey carts piled with plague bodies waiting to be buried.

In the end, he decides he doesn’t care. This is when he gets Sirius: in the dark, in the quiet, when he’s soft. Stone mossing over.

“So. What are you thinking about tonight, Moons,” Sirius asks him, a ritual akin to a roll call. Remus Lupin, present. Sirius Black, present. Ten dozen nasty little thoughts jangling about in Remus Lupin’s nasty little head like pebbles in a child’s pocket, present. They do this every time—Sirius makes knowing him look so fucking easy.

Remus leans back against the headboard. His bed hangings droop at one corner; James and Sirius snagged them down during a playfight in second year. “Hm,” he begins, as he has every night, “let’s see. I’m thinking about, er…” he falters as he sifts through his options—he can’t say you, and he can’t say that strand of hair you haven’t brushed out of your eyes that’s been bugging me for the last minute and a half (you bug me, Sirius), and he can’t say last Tuesday you drew me that doodle of The Beatles being hit by a lorry at the Abbey Road crossing because I was humming Maxwell’s Silver Hammer in Charms, and I’m sort of worried that if you sit up right now you’ll see it sticking out of the textbook on my bedside table—but eventually he settles on, “I’m thinking about that Ginsberg poem. That one about seeing Walt Whitman in a supermarket, or something.”

“Why that?”

“I don’t know. I just am. There’s a—there’s a bit about peaches and watermelons,” Remus says. “Maybe I’m hungry, I don't know.”

He’s aware of Sirius looking at him, of their hips grazing through layers of ratty fabric. He’s aware, out of the corner of his eye, of the spill of fine dark hair over his own pillow. “You want to go down to the kitchens? We could go now,” Sirius suggests. “They’ll have that tea you like, probably. The disgusting one.”

“No, it’s fine. S’only what I’m thinking about, is all. You asked.” Remus smothers a yawn against the back of his hand (he likes to try and stay awake as long as possible, these nights when Sirius turns up), turns to his side so that their faces rest inches from each other. “I don’t know why you always bother to ask.”

“Ha. Wait—really?” Sirius inclines his head; Remus’ breath rattles. They're very close, and he’s newly conscious of the ugly pink scar scrawled across the bridge of his nose, and of the fact that his duvet will smell like Sirius tomorrow (loamy pine; cigarette smoke and that soap that comes in solid white bars). “You really don’t know?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Do you...why do you figure I’m here, Moons?”

Remus stares; his face flares hotly. “I don't understand. Is there a—is there supposed to be a reason?”

“Oh, my—you actually don’t, do you? Oh my god. I’ve—I’ve been here three nights in a row, Moons. I don’t exactly come because it’s—comfortable,” Sirius says, softly, punctuating his point by nudging Remus with his knee. Two beds over, Peter grunts in his sleep. “You’re so fucking daft. Just—think about it, for a moment. Or…ask me what I’m thinking about. Go on.”

Remus obeys, of course—he’s always going to—and Sirius barely has to move his head to kiss him the way he does, then, before Remus has even finished asking. It's brave, careful, half-hidden beneath the duvet: a brush of noses. Sirius' mouth is cool like peppermint and Remus feels it even after, has to resist the giddy, ridiculous urge to touch his fingers to his lips. To the place where Sirius just—kissed him.

“That’s what I'm thinking about.” Sirius watches him, blasted little dent in his brow, and says, “that’s…that’s always been what, Moons. Fucking hell, I thought you knew. I thought you knew why I was here. You lovely idiot.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. Feels a bit stupid, now. Sirius starts to smile. “That’s—er. Right. That's good. Can I—can I change my answer?”

[sugamamacustard]

Come see me

Pairing: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo X Omega! Reader

Genre: Minor Angst, but other than that, fluffy cuddle piles. 

Request: Hi kinda nervous to request this since I'm very shy but..Is it okay to request a scenario where omega reader is feeling very insecure and jealous after idk like some new person comes in the pack and everyone is paying attention to them and reader feels very neglected but keeps quiet, starts spending more time with their friends and avoids the pack and their alpha. And then the pack plus alpha notices and drags reader back, and reassures them, and the entire pack cuddles and hug reader. Kinda like angst to fluff. Could be any team and any alpha. Though I prefer kuroo and nekoma. Sorry if it's too long I've always wanted an imagine like this. You don't have to do it if you don't wanna tho! I was just asking :)Have a good day💜

Summary:  Being a manager for Nekoma was a thankless job, but one you were proud to do. You were surrounded by alphas who wanted what was best for you and in turn, you wanted what was best for them. However, sometimes what’s best for them...may not be best for you or your omega.

Warnings: Jealous omega! reader, reader almost goes into an omega depression, small angst,

Author’s Note: No need to be shy, darling! This is my first request for this blog so I’m super excited to write this and to fulfill my first request.!

Requests: Open!

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵ Originally, the idea of another manager for the Nekoma team excited you.

➵ You were really pumped to have an extra set of hands on board to help keep scores, or pick up balls, or put up and take down nets. 

➵ To have someone else to joke and laugh with on the sidelines while Yaku was yelling at Lev, or to assist you in prying Kenma’s switch from his hands so he can eat.

➵ Having another manager seemed like such a good idea. A new friend for the pack. 

➵ Until it wasn’t. 

➵ Ichika was a kind and sweet girl in class 2-B (You were in 2-D), and originally you and her got along well.

➵ Your omega didn’t outright hate her, more of an indifference, and your personalities melded well together.

➵ And from what you’ve heard from her friends, she talked about the boys on the volleyball team a lot.

➵ So you figured she would be a good fit. 

➵ However, you weren’t certain on it anymore.

➵ Maybe she was too good of a fit. 

➵ ‘You’re being silly’ You told yourself. 

➵ ‘She’s getting to know the team, that’s all’ You practically chanted in your head like a mantra.

➵ ‘She’s honing in on our pack. Our alpha.’ Your omega sneered, padding in a circle before flopping down, growling lowly.  You tried reminding her that Kuroo was nothing more than a captain. 

➵ An attractive captain who who you found yourself finding every opportunity in the book to talk too. But that was fine print. 

➵ He was not your alpha. He was the commanding alpha of the volleyball team, but not yours. 

➵ And maybe that was what hurt most. Knowing you had Zero claim on anyone in the pack, therefore you had no right to demand the attention.

➵ They gave their attention to who they wanted. 

➵ Even if nowadays, it seemed to be Ichika more and more often then not. 

➵ It hurt, when you both would be sitting on the sidelines and Inuoka would brush right past you to chat with Ichika.

➵ Or when you both would be passing out towels and water bottles and they only thanked her. 

➵ It began hurting to the point you had to bite down whines or whimpers. Your omega was upset, therefore you were even more upset. But they seemed happy,

➵ Who were you to ruin that? 

➵ Just because you saw them as pack, doesn’t mean they saw you in the same light. 

➵ You tried pushing away that god awful thought, but it was planted and nothing was moving it. 

➵ And whether you noticed it or not, you were acting on that thought.

➵ You didn’t stay after practice for anyone, instead cleaning up quickly and efficiently while the boys were in the change room. 

➵ Leaving behind your notes for that day’s practice along with the gym keys right in front of the door. 

➵ You didn’t wait for anyone and took a different way home so no-one would try to walk with you.

➵ You needed to separate from them, even if it hurt. Even if you cried on the way home. Even if you stayed in your nest from the minute you got home to the minute you had to leave for school the next day.

➵ Even if your meals got smaller and smaller. 

➵ You never sat with the team anymore, Ichika taking your spot like she belonged there. 

➵ Instead you sat with a group of friends from your class. They never asked any questions, which you were thankful for. 

➵ You began wearing scent blocking patches to hide your scent, hide the sour note that almost always accompanied it. 

➵ You just...tried to disappear. You still fulfilled your manager duties as you always did, but never more. 

➵ Never gave words of encouragement. No pointers on how to improve. No jokes on Lev’s behalf. No nothing. 

➵ And holy shit, that Irked Kuroo. 

➵ He was always so excited for practices at the end of the day because that was when he would get to show off in front of you. 

➵ Prove he was a strong alpha. 

➵ He would admit, he liked you...A lot. He was even working on a future courting gift (It was a bracelet with intricate beading that looked almost like a cuff) but was having a few difficulties so couldn’t gift it to you yet.

➵ However, you were pulling away. 

➵ Away from him. Away from the pack. Just away. 

➵ You barely even glanced their way anymore.

➵ During practice, you just sat there, completed homework, then took notes. He never saw you after that.

➵ He tried to pack up as fast as he possibly could at the end of practice but was always late. You were always, without fail, gone. No trace of you ever being there except the notes you left in your wake with the keys. 

➵ His alpha kept barking at him to stop you. To come up with any excuse to keep you here long enough for him to walk you home in the very least. But you were always gone.

➵ He tried everything, but you seemed one step ahead of him. 

➵ His alpha blamed Ichika. Ever since she showed up you began pulling away.

➵ Were you jealous? Were you angry with them for trying to keep her away?

➵ They only put up with her because it was obvious you didn’t like her. So they tried keeping her away. 

➵ Was that backfiring on them? 

➵ Kuroo didn’t even know why there was another manager. You were perfect for them. Like a puzzle piece. Their personal cheerleader. 

➵ Maybe school was piling on you?

➵ No. You always went to him for help.

➵ Maybe the duties were too much?

➵ No because you were still doing them all.

➵ Come to think of it, what was Ichika even doing? 

➵ She did nothing except fawn over them and purr over their skills, which was nice for the ego boost at first, but soon just got annoying when she tried scenting them.

➵ It seemed she was fixated on him especially, trying to rub her neck all over him only for him to push her off with a growl. He had only scented two people in his life. 

➵ Kenma, because he needed the practice, and you, which was why he practiced. 

➵ And he planned to keep it that way. 

➵ But you were still staying away. So he scented no one. 

➵ The final straw was a Friday practice. 

➵ You were sitting a ways a way in the corner, doing your work with your jacket wrapped in front of you like a boundary. 

➵ His heart hurt at the thought of you feeling the need to recluse yourself like this.

➵ He made a motion to Kenma, his co-commanding alpha, who nodded before making his way to you. 

➵ As he should’ve predicted, Ichika intercepted him. She tried to hug him, but he dodged, side stepping and trying to get to you, but she persisted.

➵ “Why don’t you give me the same attention you give her, huh? Rumor has it she’s been bordering on dropping for days, nothing but attention seeking in my humble opinion.”

➵   He paused in his efforts, looking down to her once more.

➵ “I’m sorry?” 

➵ Ichika rolled her eyes. “It’s been all over school. Surprised you haven’t heard. She skips lunch more often than not, nowadays. People have even started bets as to when she finally drops. Real shame though. Gonna miss having someone else do all the work.”

➵ You were missing lunches. Lunches were meals he could guarantee you ate, and you suddenly weren’t doing so anymore. He was failing you.

➵ You were dropping right under their noses and as your pack they were watching it happen. 

➵ As your head alpha, and hopefully future alpha, he was watching you drift away and ultimately fade from him.

➵ He was watching this happen?!

➵ What part of this was okay?! None of it. 

➵ He was loosing you. Hell, if he hadn’t lost you already. 

➵ No. You were here, at school, He still had time. He still had a chance. He still had- his jacket and bento. 

➵  Turning tail, the alpha made his way to his bag, digging out the bento (Come to think of it, he hadn’t been eating much since this whole debacle started anyway) and grabbing his jacket before making his way to you once more.

➵ He didn’t pay any mind to Ichika, this time fully shoving past her to get to you. 

➵ You looked up to him skeptically, watching as the alpha, the head alpha, bent to lay on his knees, slowly putting the bento on his jacket and sliding it in front of you. 

➵ Your heart and mind were going a mile a minute as you watched the commanding fucking alpha of the pack, bow to you. Ask for your permission to get close to you. 

➵ What-

➵ “Hi?”

➵ Kuroo said nothing in return, only lowering his chin to the ground, looking up to you. Almost waiting for you to allow him closer. 

➵ When you said nothing he motioned towards the bento with a nod of his head. He was almost like a pup with how minimal his actions were. 

➵ When you slowly took the bento, he raised in time with the box, watching you open it. when you popped a small bit of rice into your mouth. He purred loudly, slowly inching closer. He laid his jacket over yours, adding another layer to your barrier, which you slowly moved to allow him in. 

➵ He crawled into your space, slowly moving your books and bag to nuzzle into your neck. You allowed him to, eating more rice-- which seemed to appease him. 

➵ One by one, more of the teammates came by, offering their jackets to your now makeshift nest, joining in on the cuddle pile. 

➵ All but Ichika, who seemed to angrily stomp about while cleaning up the few stray volleyballs. 

➵ But you didn’t really care about her at this point. 

➵ Your omega was at peace, especially with the alpha you’ve been pinning after purring into your neck, scenting you and pressing small kisses to your neck.

➵ This was your pack. Your home.

➵ And they wouldn’t let you fall behind.