#like i'm piecing it together with only two pieces of evidence but that's half the fun

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.2k (10k+ including kofi/patreon exclusive drabble)

a/n: the teaser for this got way more attention than i was expecting lol i hope u guys enjoy the final product!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better at the time.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

The position made it so that Jungkook was technically sitting behind you. Since you were on Mingyu's lap and sitting sideways on the couch, you were now being sandwiched by both boys. Jungkook still kept a small distance, making you have to turn around in Mingyu's hold to look at him.

While you probably embodied the image of a deer caught in headlights, Mingyu seemed completely relaxed, hands still comfortably on your waist.

"I was actually just catching Y/N up," said Mingyu, an overly cocky tone in his voice as his hands continued to feel up and down your waist.

"Oh? Without me?", chuckled Jungkook, leaning a bit closer.

"What the hell is happening?"

"How much did you tell her?", Jungkook ignored you, staring directly at Mingyu. His eyes would occasionally trail down to Mingyu's hands on your waist, a sour look overtaking his face.

It seemed like you had missed a few chapters in the friendship; there was some unspoken agreement between the two in which you were the main character. While it bothered you to think that they'd discussed you in private, the enigma of it all also excited you. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the way in which Mingyu's entire demeanor had become possessive when you brought up dating. The reason didn't matter when you were already beginning to heat up.

"Just caught her up a little on the, uh, situation," said Mingyu with an unrecognizable glint in his eyes, "Did you know she was thinking about dating?", he asked Jungkook, ignoring your presence while still having his hands on you.

Mingyu's hand had made it under your shirt by now, feeling the warm skin of your back.

"Oh? Since when?", he finally turned to you, scooting up a tiny bit more.

Due to his new proximity, you turned your head around, facing Mingyu again. That proved to be a mistake, as Mingyu was even closer to you. Jungkook also took advantage of this, braving a few more inches in closeness and letting his face come closer to your neck. He pushed your hair aside for better access, simply breathing against you as he awaited your answer.

Responding was the hardest thing in the world. Your mind was simply not working at the moment, the situation being far too intimate for you to fully function. On one side you had the huge hunk of a man that was Mingyu, warm hands against the bare skin of your back all while you sat on his leg. On the other, you had the gorgeous embodiment of a boyfriend that was Jungkook, whose fingers were now slowly running up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake while he nosed at your neck.

You had your two gorgeous best friends giving you the best type of attention all while your brain fizzled with your tipsiness.

"Answer him, baby," murmured Gyu.

"I- I just," you sighed when Jungkook began leaving feather-light kisses on your neck, "just thought about maybe getting b-back in the market? To meet someone and-"

"But you have us?", Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, seemingly unable to understand the platonic nature behind your friendship.

"That's what I said!", added Mingyu.

"But I want a boyfriend, n-not-"

"Boyfriend? Baby ...", Jungkook disconnected from you, grabbing your head to make you twist your neck in order to look at him, "That's just an upgrade. You want a boyfriend? We'll give you two. You don't need to be looking around for some loser," his eyes gradually lowered to your lips as he spoke, breath heavy against them.

"K-Kook, I-"

"Please say yes? Please just ... Let me show you? We can show you together. Right, Gyu?", he murmured, mere inches away from your mouth.

Before you knew it, you were nodding, far too desperate to voice your desire.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, you had thought of kissing Jungkook before. Being one of the prettiest boys you'd ever seen before, it was hard at first to keep your relationship with him fully platonic, having had to beat down a small crush you had developed on him at an earlier age. His kiss, however, was not something you could've ever predicted.

Even with the awkward angle, and Mingyu's hands still on you, Jungkook gave you the dizziest of kisses. He knew how to get you hooked immediately, starting with a heavy kiss that had you chasing him the moment he pulled away. With a quiet and breathy laugh, he kissed you again, languid and wet in the way his tongue snuck between your lips, seamlessly making its way into your mouth to play with yours.

Shamelessly, you moaned against his lips, hands digging into Mingyu's shoulders as he continued to hold you. The slight awkwardness of making out with Jungkook while giving your back to Mingyu, yet still holding onto him, was present in your mind. However, Jungkook's sensual yet playful way of kissing you took up most of your attention.

But you knew Mingyu to be a whiny mess of a man at times, so you knew it wouldn't be long before he attempted to regain your attention. The evidence was in the way he felt you up all throughout, hands on your breasts as he pinched at your nipples through your shirt, groaning at the feeling of your tits in his hands. Occasionally, his hands would go down to your cunt, ghosting the place where you needed the most attention before making their way back up to your chest.

Pulling you away by the waist, you were forced to separate from Jungkook, eyes still closed as your lips chased his own. This time Jungkook's lips also attempted to regain possession over yours, with his tongue catching a few last nasty licks of your own.

"It's my turn," grumbled Mingyu, making you turn back to him, "You're on my lap but kiss him only? Baby, we're supposed to share you!", he pouted.

Giggling, you got even closer to him, cradling his head in your hands as you lightly pulled at his hair.

You turned to Jungkook one quick last time, "Kookie?"

His eyes lit up at your question, giving you a view of his round eyes as he gave you his full attention.

"Scoot closer, yeah? Put your hands around me," you encouraged him, humming in contentment when he went above and beyond and began to kiss your neck in the process.

Turning back to Mingyu, there was still an ever-so-present pout on his features, making you giggle again before finally kissing his lips.

Now, Mingyu's kiss was completely different from that of Jungkook's.

You had known Mingyu for as much time as you had Jungkook. He had a bit of a reputation when you had first met, being known as a guy who would occasionally sleep around with other idols, and sometimes staff. Now at 26, he had been retired from that era of his life for a while, but you'd be lying if you didn't say he always made you wonder. He always had all the girls swooning, instantly falling in love with his outgoing persona and his incomparable charisma. His looks also did not help matters. Being so handsome and likable, you occasionally fell victim to his charms, sometimes needing to snap yourself out of R rated thoughts you'd have about him on nights you were feeling particularly lonely.

His kiss felt exactly the way he looked. It was rich and insanely hot. Mingyu made love to your mouth, using his tongue in ways you didn't know a man could. He was domineering in the way he kissed you, with a firm hand on your jaw so he could position you in a way that allowed him to kiss you just the way he liked. And he liked it nasty. He liked it wet and filthy and in a way that made you sure you'd cum if he kissed you for a little too long.

You could barely catch up to the situation, having one gorgeous man fucking your mouth with his tongue while the other suckled at the most sensitive spots of your neck. In the meantime, your cunt was gushing with essence, already so extremely wet you were beginning to squirm in Mingyu's hold.

You attempted to pull away once, only to be enticed into kissing Mingyu again as he groaned against you, tongue seducing yours once more. You attempted to pull away twice, having his arms wrap tighter around you. The third time is when you finally succeeded, whining against Mingyu's mouth that you needed more. This caused yet another groan to come out of Mingyu, only to be echoed by Jungkook's own groan against your neck.

They both disconnected from you, looking to each other in a decisive manner, almost as if to formulate a game plan.

"I want her first," said Jungkook, slapping Mingyu's hands away from you and attempting to move you onto his lap.

Mingyu stopped him, holding you tighter against him as he rebutted, "You? She's already on my lap. I should have her first."

"Dude, I'm about to blow up. Just let me fuck her and then you can have her while I recover," be argued, hands fighting Mingyu's off of you.

"Why can't I choose?", you butt in, annoyed.

Their demeanors swiftly changed at your interruption, both pairs of hands now touching either your waist or thighs in an intimate yet caring manner.

"What do you want, pretty? My cock? Hmm?", asked Mingyu with a sweet voice in an attempt to convince you. Meanwhile, Jungkook wordlessly kissed at your neck again, nibbling at your ear and smirking at how you shuddered at the feeling.

"I-", you were already lightheaded again, "I wanna suck your dick, Gyu. Want Kookie to fuck me while I suck your dick," you murmured, hand holding Jungkook's head against your neck to keep his kisses coming.

Mingyu groaned at this, nodding absentmindedly. He began to shift, attempting to get up in order to get himself ready for you, but you stopped him.

"Undress me? Both of you?", you asked in the softest voice you could muster. You wanted both their hands on you at once, feeling your nude body for the first time. You knew their desire for you was already clouding their minds, so you wanted to do everything in your power to relish in every single touch, every look filled with lust they would give you.

Without another word, both boys got up, standing you up with them. Their hands were messy and uncoordinated as they got every garment off you, feeling you up in the process. Your breasts were groped and fondled multiple times in the process, while Jungkook pressed your ass up against him any chance he could, groaning at the slight stimulation.

Finally undressed, you decided to turn around once more, facing Jungkook as you kissed him with no warning. You smirked into his mouth when you felt Mingyu grab you from behind and press your ass up against him, grinding slowly against you. You knew it wasn't enough to get him anywhere, but you enjoyed knowing he was needy enough to use you in such a fruitless way just for a little stimulation.

Meanwhile, your hands went straight to Jungkook's oversized top, hands sneaking underneath to feel up his muscular form, hands harshly rubbing on his strong chest. It seemed Jungkook was overly sensitive to your touch. He whined needy breaths into your mouth as you felt him up. Taking off his shirt, you moaned as you saw the gorgeous figure of your best friend.

God, he was the prettiest thing you'd ever seen. You couldn't wait until you saw the rest of his pretty body, sculpted by the endless hours of work you knew he always put into the gym. The endless hours in which you had accompanied him to said gym, always having to look away before you started to have inpure thoughts of your best friend.

He helped you in the removing of his pants and boxers, throwing his head back when your hands immediately went to find his cock and play with it. Burying his head in your neck, he groaned against your skin, whining at the feeling of your hands finally wrapped around him after having wanted you for so long.

Behind you, you heard shuffling, assuming Mingyu to have been removing his own clothes as he waited for his turn of your attention to come. You felt badly at leaving him hanging for too long, knowing him to have an overly impatient disposition when he didn't receive attention for extended periods of time.

Playing with Jungkook's cock just for a little longer, you gave him one last kiss before turning around and trapping Mingyu in his own kiss. Unlike with Jungkook, you didn't linger long, opting instead to push him down the large conversation pit – thank god for Jungkook's insanely big mansion – located just a few steps away from the couch where it had all begun. This way you could have all the space you wanted to play with your friends.

Now lying down, Mingyu looked you up and down like you were his next prey, licking his lips at the sight and motioning at you to come sit on him despite knowing that you wanted something else.

"C'mon, baby. Ditch him. Don't you want me instead?," he leaned upwards to try and convince you of sitting on him.

It was hard to deny him with his cock staring up at you in such a challenging manner. He was equally as gorgeous as your other bestie, but in so many different ways. Mingyu was so big and thick and buff, he had you salivating at the mere sight of him. He was so toned yet so thick, and his dick matched perfectly. God, the thought of that monster inside you had your eyes rolling back already. Did he really mean it when he said he'd be yours? That he and Jungkook would share you? The idea of a boyfriend sounded stupid in retrospect.

Despite all your better judgment telling you to jump Mingyu and let him impale you with his cock right then and there, you knew that starting off with Jungkook would give you a better buildup. You also knew that based on Jungkook's competitive personality, he'd become even whinier than Mingyu if you didn't let him take care of you first.

Fully determined, you turned back to Jungkook, who had been standing there in a trance, now having a better view of your body and keeping his eyes religiously glued to it. You grabbed onto him and walked yourself back to the large conversation pit, eyes glued to Jungkook's in a seductive manner as you guided him to the area in which Mingyu was already lying down. In only a few seconds, you let go of Jungkook and positioned yourself in front of Mingyu at an eye level with his cock while he sat up and looked down at you with a pained look in his eyes. In all fours, your back faced Jungkook, hinting at him to get behind you so that you could finally get back to business.

With a groan, Jungkook knelt behind you, needy hands feeling the curve of your back as he pushed you up against him. In the meantime, you began softly playing with Mingyu's cock, making him throw his head back at finally receiving some attention where he'd been craving it for so long.

"You're so pretty, fuck ... No one deserves you, baby. Too fucking pretty n perfect n fuck ... Can I fuck you now, pretty? Hmm? Let me have this pretty pussy while you suck off your bestie," rambled Jungkook from behind you, head lowered so he could kiss at your hips.

You whined and pushed up your ass against him, giving him the green light to do whatever he wanted, when suddenly he stopped.

"Fuck, wait. Condom?", he asked, making Mingyu groan, as you were about to engulf him in your mouth but also halted your movements to tend to Jungkook's question.

"It's okay, Kookie. The company put me on some new birth control. You can fuck me raw," you smirked up at Mingyu, giggling at yet another groan of his.

"He gets you raw? Baby, I'm the one who started all this! How's that fair?", he huffed.

Taking a quick separation from Jungkook, you gestured for Mingyu to lean down so he could meet you halfway. With a wet kiss, you made your way to his ear and whispered against it.

"I'm saving you for last, baby. Gonna ride you til I cry ... Now be good and cum in my mouth?"

He groaned so loudly his entire body vibrated under you as you crawled your way back to your previous position. Jungkook simply laughed at the interaction.

Feeling you up once more, Jungkook finally grabbed onto his cock and lined himself up, groaning at the gushing wetness that coated his cock as he entered you. Your own moan was masked by Mingyu's cock, which you were currently working into your mouth.

"Oh, fuck ... It's so tight, baby ... It's so fuckin' warm n tight n so pretty, baby. Such a pretty cunt," babbled Jungkook, immediately pussydrunk.

Could he be blamed? He had wanted you for years. From the moment he met you, he cursed at himself for being so damn shy and initiating a friendship with you rather than showing you his interest. His members constantly teased him over it, even so many years into his crush. When he first found out Mingyu also had similar ideas in mind, he felt conflicted. But he ultimately grew close enough to the two of you to the point where he wouldn't mind sharing you with his bestest of friends.

Your muffled moans completely took him out of it, taking away any ability to think or speak. He simply chased after you with his hips, canting them against your own as you pushed back against him.

"Is it good, pretty? Like my cock?" he winced at the way you tightened any time he'd speak to you.

"So good, Kookie. So big ...," you pulled away from Mingyu to breathe before going back to licking and sucking at his tip, moaning against him as his eyes rolled back.

You were practically centipede in Jungkook's living room, with Mingyu lying on his back as you gagged on his cock and Jungkook pounding into you from behind. All your senses were overtaken by the mindless quest for pleasure you had all taken on.

"You're so good with your mouth, pretty ... Fuck, look so pretty stuffed of cock," Mingyu gasped, throwing his head back, "Like how he fucks you, baby? Just wait til I get to you ... Gonna stuff that pretty pussy so good ..."

You moaned against his cock, already thirsty for him even as Jungkook continued to ram into you. Pushing your ass back against him, you felt Jungkook's nails dig into the skin of your hips, adoring how malleable you were for him.

"Baby ... 'm gonna cum soon ... Feels so fucking good, pretty. You're so fucking g-good for me. Wanted you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea ..." murmured Jungkook as he entered his high, hips lacking any control in their movements.

Jungkook had always been the most sensible of the bunch, never holding back from expressing how strongly he felt for the people in his life. The pleasure must've been so much that it made him unfiltered in revealing the undeniable effect you had on him.

"W-where do I cum? Fuck, gonna fucking cum, it's so good, baby. Take it so good for me, shit ..."

You were too busy gagging on cock to respond right away, so you had to take a minute to pull away and catch your breath, replacing your mouth with your hand while also holding yourself up with the other one.

"Inside? Cum inside, Kookie. I'll- I'll cum too," you were breathless, barely able to get the words out as a petulant Mingyu whined at you to help him finish, hands going behind your head and lightly encouraging you to get your mouth back on him.

"Inside? Fuck, okay, baby. Gonna fill you up, yeah?", he groaned, muttering to himself right afterwards, "Fucking finally ..."

His hips sped up drastically as his high approached, making you choke around Mingyu not just due to his girth, but due to the intense ramming against your ass. Though harsh and with an unmatchable energy, you continued to try and push your hips back toward his own, wanting to milk him dry as your own high invaded your senses.

His desperation for you made you feel so incredibly good, like you were the prettiest girl to ever exist. It made you arch your back a little deeper, take a little more of Gyu's cock, dig your nails a little harsher into the cushion of the conversation pit. You heightened all your actions just to feel him a little more.

And then it reached its crescendo. All while Jungkook whimpered and cried at how sensitive he felt at your tightening walls, Mingyu also found his own high. You were too distracted with your own orgasm to acknowledge him asking you for permission to cum in your mouth, instead suctioning more intensely to wordlessly give him an enthusiastic yes, please fill up my mouth with your cum.

By the time Mingyu filled up your mouth, Jungkook had already finished his high, now kneeling behind you as he peppered kisses all over your back and hips, whispering against you how good you had been for him and how pretty you looked with his cum leaking out of you. Fully drunk on the aftermath of his high, Jungkook loved on you like any lover would.

In the meantime, you attempted to swallow every bit of Mingyu's essence, moaning against his cock afterwards as you licked at every lone drop that made it out of your mouth.

By the end of it, you were all completely spent. Each of you dropped one by one, with Jungkook lying on his back as he caught his breath, you falling onto Mingyu, and Mingyu attempting to pull you up to climb his body so that he could kiss you again.

With the very little energy you had regained, you crawled up Mingyu's body, making out with him as he attempted to lick his way into your mouth in order to taste himself in your mouth. Kissing evolved into feeling each other up, which then became grinding your now sensitive pelvises against each other. Surprisingly, Mingyu was still half-hard, which gave you the perfect surface to grind your cunt into. He sat up, making you sit up with him before beginning to leave kisses on the side of your neck.

"Baby? Gonna ride me like you said, right? Just .. Fuck, want that pretty pussy, baby. It's my turn to have that tiny little cunt wrapped around me, yeah?", he murmured between kisses.

You gave in to him easily, gasping at every word that accompanied every kiss.

Nodding mindlessly, you almost forgot to think back to Jungkook, who was probably still recovering from his orgasm.

"W-what about Kookie?," you mumbled when Mingyu began positioning you above his cock.

"Don't worry about me, pretty. Just enjoying the view", you turned back to see Jungkook lying back on his elbows, one hand on his semi-flacid cock as he began to work himself up at the sight of you sitting on your best friend.

Well, that worked well enough for you.

"Now pay attention to me, princess. Been ignoring me all day today," Mingyu grabbed onto your chin to make you look at him, thumb softly rubbing at your chin as he tilted your head back.

You were insanely wet by now, not only from your orgasm but also from just Mingyu's mere presence. Knowing how intense and touchy Mingyu always was in PG scenarios, you couldn't help your eyes rolling back at the thought of him between the sheets. His heavy cock on your tongue had been enough of a taste to know how good it'd feel when finally inside you.

His strong hands lifted you up a bit, rescuing his dick from under you as he helped you position it under you, holding tightly onto your hips when you began to lower yourself down. You would've moaned and whined at the immense stretch, but Mingyu had different plans for your mouth. His thick fingers slipped into your mouth, making you gag a bit before you began sucking on them.

Too many things were on your mind, with all your senses being invaded by Mingyu – though also accompanied by Jungkook's low moans of pleasure behind you. Even as your body was bouncing against Mingyu's, attempting to match his thrusts, your head was completely empty of any thought. All you could think about was Mingyu, and his cock, and his fingers, and his pretty body, and and and-

"Feel good, princess? Love my cock, hmm? Tell me how much you like my cock, angel," he groaned as he took his fingers out of your mouth, using the wet fingertips to tweak at your nipple as his mouth engulfed the opposite one.

"So much ... It's so big. Fuck, Gyu, you're s-so big ..."

Barely able to formulate words, you cried as Mingyu helped you bounce on him, occasionally opting to grind in a way that made your clit get the perfect stimulation. It all felt too good. Mingyu's gigantic hands on your body while his lips suckled on your tits as Jungkook groaned so prettily behind you. You were far too sensitive and alert to hold back from the life-altering orgasm that was to come. So, you voiced this concern to Mingyu.

His response came in the form of flipping you around and trapping you underneath him. His big hands held onto your waist, lifting you a bit so he could angle himself just right. Eyes rolling back and nails digging onto the bed, you lost yourself in him. Jungkook seemed to be completely lost to pleasure also. You could finally see him after Mingyu flipped you over, and fuck ... He looked so desperate, so depraved in the way he hammered into his cock, mouth permanently agape as he let out little praises to you.

"I need you to cum for me, okay, princess? Show Jungkook how good I make you feel. Need you to milk me dry, yeah? Can you do that for me?", he dumbly talked down at you with a tone that could only be seen as patronizing in any other context. But here, you loved it. You loved how dumbly he treated you. Because it was true. You could not think, you could not speak. Your senses were all gone and replaced by a constant stream of cock cock cock as Mingyu finally made you reach your orgasm.

Mingyu played with you through the entirety of your orgasm, rubbing at your clit with one hand while holding you with the other, his lips constantly attached to your tits.

"G-gyu, I- fuck! C-cumming! Please, I-" you had no idea what you were begging for as your orgasm completely took over, making you tighten around Mingyu as he mumbled into your chest, letting you know of his own impending high.

Despite having already had an equally fulfilling orgasm, this second one brought out a new sensitivity in you. Falling under Mingyu, you whimpered at the way he flipped you over again to lay on his chest, caressing your back and pressed you up against him, even more when Jungkook laid beside you and softly ran his hands through your hair.

The three of you laid there together, with you halfway laying on Mingyu while Jungkook laid on the opposite side of you, cuddling into you. Behind you, you could feel Jungkook's flacid member, meaning he had also reached a second high along with you and Mingyu. Lying there together, completely sober now, you eventually let sleep take over you, nuzzling into both boys in a satisfied manner.

A few days passed by since your encounter with the 97s. They were pretty eventful as far as your job went, attending a few photoshoots and practicing constantly for whatever new activity was coming up for your group. However, things between you and your friends had remained stagnant. You didn't think they had ghosted you or anything like that, but the timing of your busy schedules picking up right after breaking your platonic relationship did make you anxious.

When you'd woken up that next day, Mingyu was gone, having left one of the packs of ramen cooked and ready for you with a note attached detailing how much he enjoyed last night, saying he had wanted to stay and say goodbye but had a a schedule that had been calling for him. It was signed with his name and a little heart.

Jungkook had been half-awake already, having carried you to his bed when he had woken up, right after Mingyu's departure. You had wanted to talk about last night, but also had a schedule over at the company, so you left after cuddling with a sleepy Jungkook for a short while, not really discussing anything, yet sharing a sweet kiss as a goodbye for the day.

And so you hadn't really seen them since then. It was the unfortunate reality of idol life. That night had been the first in a few weeks in which you'd even been able to see each other. You were unsure when the next one would come, but you needed it to be soon. The remembrance of that night kept messing with your head, especially any time you'd see either of your friends in passing at the Hybe building, never being free long enough for a worthy interaction.

On the fourth night since the incident, you finally had more time off for yourself, hoping maybe they did too. Mingyu got ahead of you in that aspect, texting you the previous night, somehow aware of your time off, and asking you over. There was no deeper interpretation to be had in his message, as it was pretty straightforward. Nervous as to whether to expect a repeat of last time or a conversation about it, you let him know you'd be there.

Jungkook and Mingyu had always been closer to each other than to you. Going out together was always easier for them since no scandalous rumors would arise from it. They were also often in the same friend groups, knowing more male idols than you did due to the nature of the industry. It was easy for you to assume that they had already spoken about what had happened, even before it happened. Throughout the night, they kept referencing some type of agreement they'd had regarding you and dating. It was hard to assume, but you wondered if they meant sharing you – as strange as it sounded.

Your questions would only be answered tonight, leading you to some anxiety before finally arriving to Mingyu's.

~

"I missed you," were Mingyu's first words when he welcomed you, trapping you in a warm hug as he usually did. Hugging Mingyu was, in your opinion, one of your life's greatest privileges. He was so big and strong, it always felt like being completely engulfed in the safest of spaces.

His hug was followed by one of Jungkook's, less tight in nature but just as rewarding. He held onto your waist and nuzzled against you, always attempting to bury himself in whoever he held in his arms.

Quietly, they guided you to Mingyu's living room, slightly smaller than Jungkook's but still very much reminiscent of a millionaire's home.

You looked over to the coffee table, tilting your head in confusion at the presence of cans of diet soda rather than the usual alcohol Mingyu would always provide. Sensing your confusion, Mingyu chuckled.

"No alcohol today. Thought you might wanna talk about what happened," he sat down on the couch, patting the empty space next to him so you'd join him. Behind to you, Jungkook joined, sitting on a lone seat facing you and Mingyu. No matter where you looked, the two boys would be in front of you.

"We've been keeping you in the dark, huh?," pondered Jungkook, handing you a freshly opened can of soda, "Sorry about that. No easy way to tell your best friend you're into her."

Oh. He was going straight to the point.

"I like you, if that wasn't clear already," he let out a breathless chuckle, attempting to hold eye contact but failing.

He was much better at this when he was working his way into your pants.

"And so do I," interrupted Mingyu.

Wait.

"Are you-"

"We both like you."

"I- Have you talked about this?"

"Uh, it's come up, yeah," Mingyu scratched the back of his neck.

"I don't really know what to say ..."

"We just ... You had fun the other night, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, it was great," you took a breath, "but we're friends. Right?"

You weren't sure if you were being rational or not. Did you like Mingyu and Jungkook? Sure. But together? At the same time? You had never considered such type of relationship.

"We- we don't have to be just friends," added Jungkook, not much confidence in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, "We like you, and we know that you like us back. Maybe not in the same way, but you do. That night would've gone very differently if you didn't."

You could've lied. You could've lied and left it off as an amazing one night stand with your two best friends. But the thought of never feeling what you felt that night ever again was not something you wanted to risk. It wasn't just about the pleasure. You had meant what you said that night; you wanted a stable relationship. You wanted someone to call a best friend, but be more than that. Someone to hold you at night. The three of you had always been glued by the hip, but you had never really thought of what it'd be like to take the next step – to have them be that person (or those people).

There were just too many questions in your head. Would this change your relationship negatively? Would they actually want to share you? Would this go anywhere?

You opted for answering Jungkook's question with another question.

"Are you okay with both of you liking me?"

They looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu ultimately answered.

"We've discussed it," he started, "When we first realized we both liked you, it did cause some tension. But the closer we got to you, the more we realized that we just wanted to be with you. Whether as friends or as more, we just wanted you."

You gulped at the confession, feeling your face heating up all of the sudden.

"I- I don't know what to say, I- I like you too. Both of you. I always thought that it was just as friends, but ... there'd be moments where I'd wonder. And after that night, I just-"

Jungkook leaned forwards, grabbing onto your hands. He smiled, ignoring most of your words and paying attention to what he cared about the most – you liked him.

"You like me back? Us? Do you- We could treat you so right. I- I've wanted you since we met. I've liked you for so long and ... Not just for sex. We could be more," his words were slightly frantic in nature, almost as if he wanted to sell something to you.

He didn't need any selling. You liked him. It became more and more glaring by the minute.

"Nothing has to change. We've been friends for this long. Just ... That guy you're looking for? To settle down with? That could be us," added Mingyu, placing a palm on your thigh for reassurance.

"What happens if I say yes?"

Mingyu's eyes grew dark.

"Do you want the PG version?"

You shook your head, mouth agape as you looked to Mingyu.

His face lit up as he leaned closer and closer to you, lips approaching the sensitive spots he had discovered on your neck just a few days ago. Stopping for just one moment, he looked to Jungkook to gesture he sit opposite of you, making you become sandwiched by both men yet again.

Now with both boys kissing down your neck, you allowed your head to rest against the back of the couch, attempting to fight the shudders escaping your body at the sensation.

"As our girlfriend ... we'd take you on dates," Mingyu sucked at a particularly sensitive spot, licking at it afterwards, "buy you pretty gifts, keep you warm at night," he took a pause, licking up the length of your neck, "take care of you every day."

Jungkook continued from where Mingyu left off, leaving soft whispers of kisses under your ear, "We share you. We take you home, cook for you, protect you," he nipped at your lobe, "We love you like no one else could ever imagine."

By now, you were gone. Through their whispered promises, their hands had decided to intrude your space yet again. Jungkook's had found a home between your legs, running up your skirt and gracing at your cunt, but only enough to have you puffing out breaths of desire. Mingyu's had migrated upwards, lowering the straps of your dress and liberating your breasts, hands needy as they pulled and tweaked at your nipples.

"What do you say, princess?", Mingyu pulled away, lips reaching your own, "Wanna have two boyfriends?", he pecked at your lips sensually.

"Mhmm ...", you nodded pathetically, not trusting your voice.

Jungkook groaned at your answer, hand finally slipping inside your panties, "Good girl ..."

"Fuck, gonna treat you so good, gorgeous," said Mingyu, continuing to kiss at your lips tongue seeking your own.

His lips trailed down to your breasts, sensually licking at your nipples, gradually giving them more and more attention. By the end of it, you were crying at the sensitivity.

Jungkook continued to play with your cunt, driving his fingers through your folds at a rhythmic pace that made your hips take a mind of their own, grinding upwards with a complete lack of coordination.

You were so focused on Jungkook's fingers that you didn't notice Mingyu making his way down your body, now kneeling between your legs as his lips made their way up your thighs, marking them to his heart's contentment.

"So fucking pretty ... Been wanting your pretty thighs around my head for years, princess ...", he mumbled to himself, nosing his way towards your cunt. When he finally arrived, he nudged Jungkook's finger's away, sticking his nose against your cunt as he took a shameless whiff of your scent, groaning gruttaly against you.

"So good ... Fuck, need this pretty cunt so bad. Can I have it, baby? Hmm? Let me have a taste of this pretty pussy?" he asked between depraved licks of your cunt through your panties.

Hiccuping back a sob, you nodded, opening your legs wider as you took a hold of Jungkook's hand for support.

Needing no further confirmation, Mingyu went straight into your cunt, ignoring the obstacle of your panties by pushing them aside. In the meantime, Jungkook's hand went to your chin, turning your whiny lips to his own and giving you a languid kiss. His tongue played with your own, taking advantage of your constant cries of pleasure to suck at your tongue and bite your lips as much as he desired.

Your hands went from holding onto Jungkook for support to his pants, undoing the drawstring as he continued to kiss you. With shaky hands, you snuck your hands in, pulling out his hardened cock as you began to jerk it in your hand. Now you were even; equally pathetic cries being released into each other's mouths as you both chased your highs.

Beneath you, you almost missed the way Mingyu's hips began humping against the couch, groans being released into your cunt due to the stimulation. You were far too distraed by kissing Jungkook, but Mingyu's eyes were rolled all the way back as his hips became uncontrollable, cumming in his boxers just moments before he licked you to completion.

Even as you came, Mingyu's lips didn't leave your cunt, just as yours stayed on Jungkook's. The room was a mess of wet sounds of tongues as Mingyu finally separated himself from you to take a breath.

"Prettiest fucking cunt," he mumbled to himself as he let himself lay on the floor of his living room in exhaustion.

"C-cum! 'm gonna cum ...", Jungkook managed to mumble against your lips, attempting to pull back but being enticed by your lips to continue kissing. Your hands sped up at his warning, warning his pretty seed to coat your hands as he reached his nirvana.

With a last groan, Jungkook froze against you while riding his high, hips pathetic in their movements against your hand. Bringing up your hand to your lips, you made a show of licking the remnants of cum, grinning when you beard a unison of groans from both boys.

Out of breath, Jungkook leaned against you, cuddling into you with a satisfied yet smile.

"So, was that a yes?"

Mingyu made his way to the couch again, taking up the last bit of personal space you had.

You chuckled.

"Yes. That was a yes."

to read short 2.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, oral (f receiving), jerking off, cucking, penetrative sex, reunion sex, etc.

wc: 296 (teaser); 2770 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Fuck, missed you so much. You have no idea," whispered Jungkook against your neck.

After having cornered you in one of Hybe's many endless hallways, Jungkook had grabbed you by the hand and led you to an empty changing room, pushing you up against the door and burying his face in your neck. It was mostly innocent, sans the feathery kisses down your neck. His hands were still in appropriate places.

"I was only gone for a month," you giggled against him.

"A month too long. Do you know how annoying Mingyu gets when you're not around? Jesus Christ," he groaned in mock annoyance, refusing to separate from your neck.

Breathing you in, he hummed, arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you.

"Where is he, by the way?"

"What, not enough attention from one of your boyfriends?", he softly bit at your neck in defiance, licking at the mark he left when you jumped in surprise.

"No! Just ... Missed seeing you two together."

After only a month of entering a romantic relationship, you were embarrassed to admit, but you had become quite needy, always wanting them around. This had led to a few problems within your company, which was blissfully unaware of your three-way relationship, but still had to deal with how much closer you had gotten – especially in public. There had been a few more rumors as of late, though none actually traced back to anything credible.

"He's at the gym. Should be here any minute, though, since he knows you're back."

"Hmm," you hummed, disconnecting him from your neck despite his complaints, "Wanna start without him?" you grinned.

With a boyish nod and a peak of his bunny teeth, the pretty boy agreed, dragging you over to one of the empty couches in the room.

...

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[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 YOU'VE BEGUN TO FEEL LIKE HOME

FEATURING: pm!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai is not as slick as he thinks he is, and you let him get away with way too much. OR, dazai realizes the only place he feels comfortable enough to sleep is at your side, but god forbid he vocalizes that.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'm on another pm!reader & dazai kick LOL, prepare for an influx of fics about them. i'm starting with this one because it's softer, the classic sharing a bed fic & u guys deserve some lightness after uu6 (warnings: fem!reader, nothing else really, this is light-hearted as promised)

Dazai doesn’t think you notice when he sneaks into your room at night.

To be fair, you don’t think you noticed the first few times. He’s very careful to make sure you’re still sleeping when he lets the door crack open so he can slip in. He shifts the blinds around just enough so that when he lays down and the sun starts to rise, it’ll hit him right in the eye, waking him up before you, so he can slip out unnoticed.

But he messed up two weeks ago. Or, well, it wasn’t really his fault. The hinges of your door creaked just a bit too loudly when he pushed it open, stirring you from your sleep, but he was evidently too tired to even notice. Your first reaction was obviously to tell him to get the fuck out, irate that he’d woken you up, but you found yourself hesitating as he began his swift and efficient process of setting up your room so he can lay there with you to get some rest and disappear before you wake up. 

He slept above the covers on the edge of the bed, careful to keep space between the two of you—whether it was because he didn’t want to risk waking you up, or if he just didn’t want to touch you, you didn’t know, but you think it’s the former from the way you’ve noticed his body unconsciously trying to seek you out at night, only for him to startle awake and immediately move away.

You told yourself that you would address it the next morning—ask him what the fuck he was thinking sneaking into your bedroom—but you faltered when you saw how refreshed he was in the morning, bouncing around your apartment, the perpetual bags beneath his eyes mostly faded. You put together then how long he’s been doing this: three weeks, at least. You’d been wondering why he was suddenly so energetic some days, but it was easy to figure out that those days are the ones that he slips into your room to sleep.

You’d known for a while that Dazai doesn’t sleep well. Spends most nights wandering around your apartment looking for things to do if he doesn’t have missions; he only ever does sleep when he’s so drunk that he ends up passing out on your kitchen floor or he’s so tired that he physically can’t keep his eyes open any longer. You’d always wondered if it was because he can’t sleep or if it was because he doesn’t want to sleep, plagued with nightmares, memories whenever he closes his eyes.

So you let it continue—it doesn’t really bother you, he’s always careful to not disturb you and you figure that it’s better he gets at least some decent sleep so he doesn’t get himself killed on a mission because he’s depriving himself of it.

It’s not until a few weeks later that he realizes that you know. You’re half asleep when he tries to sneak into your room, barely conscious; you don’t remember to pretend to be asleep.

The door creaks open and shuts and you instinctively roll over, shifting up onto your elbows and squinting, eyes focusing on Dazai’s figure shrouded by the darkness, halfway across your room to your window. He freezes as soon as he realizes you’re awake. 

“Dazai?” you ask quietly, voice a bit rough with sleep, mind moving a bit slow as you try to piece together what’s going on..

“I-” he starts to say—for a second, he’s caught off guard, fumbling for some sort of excuse. But Dazai is Dazai, so he recovers quickly. “Oh good, you’re awake. You see, I was trying to-”

“Shut up,” you murmur, laying back down and pulling the covers back, realizing what he’s here for. “Lay down.” 

Dazai doesn’t budge. “What?” he breathes out, caught off-guard and clearly exhausted. You can see the dark bags beneath his eyes—he’s been on a mission for four or five days now, dealing with Mishima out in Tokyo. You figure that he hasn’t gotten any sleep since he left. “What are you talking about?” 

His voice takes a cooler tone after the initial ‘what’, a defense mechanism, and you know Dazai is about to bolt to try to avoid this conversation, but it’s been weeks and you think it's about time. You crack an eye open to scowl at him, noticing the closed off expression on his face and the anxiety thinly veiled behind his dark eye. Before he can make a run for it, you push yourself up. You’re quick and Dazai is exhausted, so it’s easy for you to scramble forward and grab his wrist, wrangling him onto the bed with you.

Dazai kicks and flails, you scowl at him when he messes up your duvet and he bares his teeth at you like a wild animal. You tumble on the mattress with him for a few seconds, he bucks you off of him and nearly onto the ground, you spit a few curses at him—wide awake now—and grab his wrists, pinning them above his head and pressing your knee into his lower back. If Dazai wasn’t half asleep, he’d probably have been able to come out on top but you can feel how tired he is with how sluggish his limbs move and how heavy they are whenever one of them lay on you, as if he can barely hold himself up. 

“What’s your issue?” you demand, biting back a yawn as you glare down at him.

Dazai twists his head to the side, looking at you from the corner of his eye with an indignant expression. “My issue?” he spits out. “You just manhandled me onto your bed. Let go of me.”

“You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a month, Dazai.”

Dazai stills and you watch as his cheeks instantly flame up. His eye is wide as he stares at you from the corner of it. You’d almost think he’s cute if he wasn’t Dazai.

“I have not.”

He lies. He lies. He lies as if you haven’t literally caught him in the act. You stare at him aghast, you thought maybe he’d try to wiggle his way out of it with a ‘no, you’ve misunderstood,’ not a straight up lie. 

“You liar,” you accuse, voice pitched in disbelief. “You just lied right to my face.”

“No, I didn’t.” 

Dazai lies again; his face is even more red now, and you think that’s to show just how exhausted he is because Dazai usually wears countless masks to hide himself from everyone. You think you strip him of one, and there are two more there protecting him—like a goddamn hydra, cut off one head and two more grow back. 

But it seems like catching him in the act tonight, while he’s already tired and half-dead on his feet, was the equivalent of burning the heads of the hydra. His masks are gone and he’s left embarrassed and fumbling. You almost want to laugh, but you’re so incensed by the sheer audacity he has to blatantly lie to your face that you can’t even bring yourself to. 

“You just did it again.”

“I did not.”

“Dazai,” you say exasperated, shifting a bit and he lets out an irritated grunt, tossing you an outraged look as you accidently dig your knee even more into his back. “Stop fucking around. You’ve been coming into my room at night every three days for at least a month.”

Dazai looks mortified.

“You’ve known for a month,” he demands. He wiggles like a worm trying to free himself from your grasp but you double down, pressing your weight down on his back. “You’ve known for a month, and you never said anything. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’ve known for two and a half weeks,” you correct, “but I figured it was a month or more based on when I started noticing your…mood improvements.”

A gentle way of putting that he doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone that looks in his direction at any given moment, but Dazai obviously understands what you’re getting at and looks even more humiliated.

You almost feel bad.

Almost.

“It’s not-” Dazai starts to say. He stutters. He stutters. A part of you wishes that you could record this, knowing you’ll never get the chance to see Dazai so caught off guard like this probably ever again. “I don’t-”

“I don’t care, Dazai,” you sigh tiredly. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t bother me. Just stop fucking being a creep about it, Christ.”

“No,” Dazai says, voice raised in pitch and petulant as he turns his face to press it down into your pillow. His words are muffled as he continues, “No. No. It’s ruined now. You’ve ruined it.”

Your eyes slide shut, you sigh. You’re suddenly tired again, you decidedly don’t want to deal with Dazai Osamu’s fickle and capricious nature. Because of that, you let go of him. You shake your head as you move off of him, sitting back down in bed and giving him a chance to flee, like he wanted to begin with.

Dazai does not budge.

At all. 

You stare at him in disbelief. 

Did he fall asleep?

You poke the side of his head and Dazai doesn’t let out a noise of complaint or shift even a centimeter, his shoulders rise and fall slowly and you turn your gaze up to the ceiling, praying for patience.

“You can’t sleep like that,” you say more to yourself than him. “You’re gonna suffocate yourself, you loser.”

You try to push him onto his side, but he startles awake as if he’d only just barely started dozing off. You watch as he jolts, sluggish limbs trying to push himself up, blinking blearily. You think he looks even more mortified when he realizes that as soon as he rested his head down, he immediately started drifting off.

“Dazai, you’re exhausted. Sleep,” you say, amusement dwindling as your brows furrow in concern. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so off-kilter before.

Has he really not slept since he left?

“No,” Dazai says, and even though the exhaustion is clear in his voice, he’s stubborn and trying to push himself up. “I can’t sleep because you had to go ahead and ruin it.”

“I didn’t ruin anything, Dazai,” you say, becoming increasingly more irritated as you lose out on more sleep. You have a meeting with Mori in the morning and you don’t want to head into it half-asleep. “You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a-”

“Stop saying that,” Dazai complains, covering his face with his hands as he sits at the edge of your bed, back turned to you. “It’s not-you’re just selfish.”

You gape. “Excuse me?” you say, even more appalled at this outlandish insult than you were over him lying to your face.

“You’re selfish. You keep the soft blankets and the nice mattress all to yourself. You’re selfish, you leave me with the scraps and then call me a creep for wanting a decent night of sleep,” Dazai says, voice a sulky hiss.

You stare at him—you don’t respond, just stare at the back of his head, willing yourself not to get violent, because there is no way that the boy who has moved himself into your apartment, leeches off your food, shampoos, soaps, and conditioners, has made a home on your couch and in your guest bedroom, who sneaks into your bed without even a small complaint from you, has the nerve to call you selfish.

As if Dazai can feel the rapidly approaching violence coming from you, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, visible eye wide and deceptively sad, head tilted to the side at a demure angle that you know he uses to get what he wants from whatever fool falls for the shitty act. You think he has some nerve trying to use it on you as if you won’t see right through it.

“It’s not fair,” he says. His voice is soft and sweet now, honeyed but you can all but taste the venom of the manipulation in the sweetness. “I just want to sleep too. It’s not fair you get all of the comfortable stuff. You’re making me seem like a creep, but I just want to sleep, and now everything is ruined.”

Therein lies the issue: the mattresses in your bedroom and the guest bedroom are in fact the same, and the sheets are the same brand and style but in different colors. The comfort of the bedroom is not the issue here. So, you choose to play his game.

“Fine,” you agree lightly. “You can take my bedroom. I’ll move into the guest bedroom. Nothing will be ruined anymore. Problem solved.”

“No.”

The sweet expression on his face drops, his gaze sharpens as he stares at you from the corner of his eye. You can barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“No?” 

“No.”

“And why not, exactly?” you ask tightly, the thin smile on your lips strained.

“You’re not allowed in my room,” Dazai says matter-of-factly.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, feeling a headache coming on, the fucking audacity of this boy.

“That is my guest room,” you say slowly. “If I want to go in there-”

“It’s been mine for over a year. It’s mine, and you’re not allowed in, so you have to stay here,” Dazai corrects firmly. “Therefore, everything is still ruined.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No.”

“Why, Dazai?” you ask, becoming frustrated quickly. “What is your fucking issue? Jesus, I’m tired, I-”

“I can’t sleep! I can’t sleep unless you’re yhere and now it’s ruined because you weren’t supposed to know,” Dazai says so suddenly and so loudly that it startles you, and then he looks distressed as if he didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t-I don’t know why-it just happened-I don’t-”

Dazai cuts himself off with a sharp breath when he realizes he can't even talk his way out of the situation, only fumbling over an explanation and making things worse for himself. If he looked embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now. His visible eye looks glassy, expression twisted and uneasy. His exhaustion has loosened his tongue too much and now he looks like he wants to rid himself of it entirely. His fingers are curled into fists so tightly that you think his uneven nails must be drawing blood from his palms.

At once, all of the fight left in you disappears.

“I’m going,” Dazai says more to himself than you. “I’m going. I’m just going to go. It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”

You don’t know if by go he means go to ‘his’ room or if he means leave your apartment and hide away in his shipping container for days like he usually does when he’s upset about something. Either way, Dazai is close to dead on his feet—you can see it in the way he sways as he tries to push himself up and you can see it in the way his visible eye droops down, hardly able to hold it open. You don’t think he’d make it to the hall without his legs giving out on him, much less to his shipping container halfway across the city—he’d be easy pickings for the numerous enemies he’s made waiting for a chance like this to finally take him out.

You sigh and before he can get half a step away, you snatch his wrist and tug him right back down into the bed. He shoots you an affronted look.

“Stop manhandling me,” he complains again. “You’re turning into a brute like Chuuya.”

“Shut up,” you say halfheartedly, “and lay down. How is going somewhere else going to solve your sleeping problems? I don’t know how you’re somehow both the dumbest and smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Dazai curls in on himself a bit, and you frown because he’d usually preen and tease you about the compliment, but he only looks unsure now. “It’s ruined-”

“Lay down,” you say, firmer this time, watching as Dazai’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before he averts his attention to the ceiling. He lays down awkwardly, head resting on your pillow; he turns on his side so that his back is to you. He makes no move to pull the covers over him. 

You let yourself roll your eyes now that he’s not looking at you, reaching down to pull the covers over both of you. You hesitate for a second, but then you choose to shift closer to him, resting your head down on the pillow as you wrap your arm loosely around his waist. He stiffens instantly, and you give it a second to see if he relaxes. When he doesn’t, you start to push yourself back away from him but before you can, he grabs your wrist to hold you in place, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he relaxes back against you.

“Nothing is ruined,” you murmur, eyes sliding shut now that you can finally rest. “I told you, I don’t care. Just sleep, Dazai. You need it.”

“... Only for tonight, one last time,” he yawns, unconsciously shifting back closer to you. It’s another blatant lie, but this one only makes you smile fondly.

“Sure,” you agree. “Only for tonight.”

When you wake up in the morning, Dazai is tucked right into your side. You’d shifted at some point during the night to lay onto your back and he’d curled right into you, resting his head on your shoulder and slinging an arm around your waist. Your gaze flickers to the clock on your nightstand and you let out a soft breath when you see that you have thirty minutes before you have to be at the main headquarters for your meeting with Mori but…

Your mouth dries when you glance down at Dazai. His bandaged eye is pressed into your body, but you can see the way his visible one is slid shut, lashes brushing his cheek as he sleeps. His face is so smooth and relaxed, breaths deep and even, peaceful in a way that you never really see of Dazai Osamu. You hadn’t fully closed your blinds before falling asleep last night, and you find yourself entranced by the way Dazai looks underneath the early morning sun, breath hitching as he lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat before shifting closer to you.

Fuck.

You let out a puff of air, eyes sliding shut. There’s no way you’ll be able to slip out of bed without waking him up, and you find that you don’t want to wake him up. Dazai is an irritating little shit, and he makes your life as difficult as he possibly can, but you think you’d be cruel purposely disrupting the little bit of peace in his life that he can have.

(You also think that you never give a shit about cruelty unless Dazai Osamu is somehow involved and the recipient of it, but you instantly dispose of that thought.)

Decision made, you reach for your phone and quickly shoot a text to Mori:

Something came up. Meet later.

And you promptly shut your phone off before settling back in bed with Dazai, arm curling around his waist and head falling to the side so that you can bury your face in his soft brown hair. You notice, as you doze back off, that it smells suspiciously like the expensive vanilla shampoo that you specifically told him not to use, but you’re already too sleepy to make a fuss out of it. 

You’ll bitch about it later, you decide.

(If you can feel him smile against your shoulder as you fall back asleep with him, you ignore it.)

[nickfowlerrr]

i never thought you’d happen to me - 2

part one / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 6.7k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.

You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.

You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.

Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.

You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.

It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.

Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.

How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.

Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time,  he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?

The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.

"Yeah?"

"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."

"Okay," you breathe.

"What do you want?"

"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.

----

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling. 

It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another. 

As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him. 

You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear. 

You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier. 

Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head. 

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel. 

A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.

You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.

You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely. 

“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone. 

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.

He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away. 

He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.

You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw. 

“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.

“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.” 

“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.

“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”

“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once. 

“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished. 

Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.

There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in. 

And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him. 

That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail. 

The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.

“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”

Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.

You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did. 

“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.

“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”

You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.

Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.

The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.

He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..

He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.

He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.

His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen. 

He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.

He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back. 

“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.

“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.

He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.

Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.

It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry. 

Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away. 

Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.

Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.

“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.

Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you. 

You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.

When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.

“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair. 

He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm. 

When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.

“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.

You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you. 

You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.

He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.

Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.

He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.

He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.

"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.

"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."

"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.

It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.

He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.

He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.

"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.

He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.

"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.

"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.

You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.

He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.

Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.

---

You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.

He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.

Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.

"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.

"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.

You're honestly dumbfounded.

You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.

"No? Then why do you act like you do?"

"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.

He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.

"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."

You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.

"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.

"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.

"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.

"That was me admitting that I care about you."

You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"

"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.

"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.

"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."

"Not yet," you counter.

Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.

His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.

"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.

"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.

Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."

You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question. 

He nods.

"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.

You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips. 

You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.

"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.

His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours. 

It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.

You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.

Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.

The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.

The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.

"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.

"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.

"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.

Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.

Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.

"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."

"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.

"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"

"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.

"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."

Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.

When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.

"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.

"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.

"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."

"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"

You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.

"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.

"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.

"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"

She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."

"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.

"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.

"I love you more."

"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.

"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.

"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.

"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.

"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.

"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."

"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."

"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."

You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.

Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.

You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.

You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.

The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.

He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.

"What now?" you whisper.

"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.

You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.

"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"

"Mhm,"

You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.

"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.

His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.

You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.

You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"

Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.

“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”

“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.

“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned. 

Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.

He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.

“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”

You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.

An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be. 

Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.

“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him. 

He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but. 

“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”

“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.

You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.

“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.

“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.

His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”

“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another. 

His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.

The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.

“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling. 

His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.

“Steve?” he answers in question. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”

“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.

There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.

“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.

“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.

“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears. 

“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”

“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.

“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.

“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”

“Uhhh,”

“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him. 

“Really?” 

“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.

“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.

His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.

“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.

As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door. 

“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall. 

“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.

You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.

As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand. 

“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff. 

“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.

[leupagus]

Guys I Might Have Three Nickels

I've been watching "Agatha Christie's Marple" for the past few days and it's pretty good! Marple adaptations all tend to have a better caliber of actors than a lot of bog-standard mystery shows (looking at you, "Madame Blanc"), and while Joan Hickson's Marple is right up there with David Suchet's Poirot and Jeremy Brett's Holmes as "literally can never be beaten, these are the best anyone's done it," both Geraldine McEwan and Julia McKenzie do a fantastic job as Miss Marple.

Then I got to "The Secret of Chimneys," Season 5 episode 2

and guys

Guys

So there's a murder of a viscount, like there is, and this detective Finch rolls up and immediately spots Miss Marple (in her NIGHTIE! standing at the window like some kind of hussy, honestly Jane) and doffs his cap to her with that little smile that makes you go, "huh."

At this point I've watched a couple dozen Miss Marple episodes where she goes through detectives like wildfire and this guy's supposed to be a "*guru*" so I'm expecting some battle of the egos or something and like, Stephen Dillane is great! But bleh, I might have to skip this one.

Then my dude asks Miss Marple to SHOW HIM THE BODY, with a pleased little smile at her as she goes "uhhhhhhhh but my knitting?" (He even does that thing where you use someone's honorific and wait for them to give you their name, and that's when I was like "ohhh this bitch knows exactly who she is.") What follows is what I can only describe as a meet-cute in the secret passageway where the viscount was shot (and in fact the body is STILL THERE) and where Miss Marple literally asks the police equivalent of "is there a Mrs Finch" and he looks at her like this:

At which point I'm like "ohhh my dude not only knows who she is, he deliberately came here without a sergeant so he could draft her," and sure enough he just starts...handing her pieces of evidence like "hey babe can you decipher this note for me thanks love you" while Miss Marple is like, "this approval and camaraderie coming from a cop... not sure if want."

Next is a series of romantic strolls through the gardens while they discuss murder, during which Finch reveals his undying love I mean his research into Miss Marple and the "dozen case files" of her previous exploits that he's collected like some deranged fanboy. Miss Marple responds to this by BLUSHING LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL and stammering about how pish tosh it's nothing really, and I couldn't find a gif of it but he's staring at her like this:

Yeah I bet u r tempted

He also makes a half-hearted attempt at negging her "amateur sleuth" status, only to then immediately assure her that he makes like, so much money being a big fancy detective and can keep her in all the yarn and garden seed she could ever desire.

There's also a late-night tryst at the compost pile right after Finch has been (mildly) poisoned and Miss Marple is like "men are so weak" as she roots through the garbage for clues.

Not how he wanted their first date to go D:

The next morning there's another murder which: bummer, but also allows the two of them to read love letters together and for Finch to give Miss Marple the following look as she explains how secret assignations among lovers can "quicken the ardor":

Miss Marple then goes onto solve the murders and btw hands over the priceless diamond that's been literally missing for two literal decades that she found in her spare time. The entire scene features Finch looking at her like this:

After the dust settles, Finch and Miss Marple have a lovely moment where he calls himself "another one of your casualties," then super casually mentions that he's probably going to have to go on assignment to use the diamond in a daring international espionage case and I can't decide if he's asking Miss Marple to go with him or simply trying to show her that he is cool and smart and would make an excellent wife, but either way the episode ends with her turning him down and Jane, we need to talk about your priorities.

Anyway I've already written 2K about the subsequent 10-year epistolary romance these two have following this episode because I make poor choices.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Saw this post from @thatbuddie and cried writing this. Happy Father's Day to all who celebrate and all who struggle through it. Love y'all 🩷

He doesn't know why he's torturing himself. It's not really torture, but the ache in his heart is. He can't help the smile on his face even through the tears as he looks through the box. Seeing how much Chris' artwork has changed over the years is more than enough to have him in a blubbering heap in the floor of his closet. Seeing it while knowing he won't witness how it'll change for who knows how long is almost enough to completely shatter him. Handmade cards, origami swans Shannon taught him to make, origami frogs Buck showed him, and the heart Eddie insisted on keeping rather than tossing out all sit neatly tucked in the box at the top of the closet. His reasons for keeping the heart are too difficult to explain. It's one of his favorites. He stacks each piece carefully beside him, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his hoodie so he doesn't damage the pages. He's not outright sobbing. He'll take it as a win. Chris still isn't speaking to him, but Ramon sends lots of pictures and updates every day. He says Chris is adjusting okay, but not his usual bright self. Eddie knows the feeling. He opens the card from last father's day and can't help but outright giggle. Chris' handwriting is just like Buck's. Small and slanted and barely legible unless you're used to the style. He doesn't know why it's so hilarious. Maybe he's losing his mind. He collects himself with a deep breath and sets the card aside before reaching into the box and taking the next piece from the pile. This one does break him. He remembers standing on the sidewalk as the bus drove away, surrounded by parents who seemed more than happy to have two weeks without a kid to take care of. Eddie couldn't understand how they were so ecstatic to watch their kids leave. He feels the same way now as he did that day. Glad he let Chris go, but more than a little empty without half of his heart. He feels a tug in his chest, like the string that connects them wants to snap. He resists the urge to hold on tighter, just like that morning all those years ago. He blinks through the tears at the writing in the card. Chris' assurance that Eddie would be fine is the thing that has him choking out a sob, dropping the card to his lap as he covers his face with his hands. "Hey, hey, Eds, it's okay." Eddie hiccups a sob and slumps against Buck's chest. He doesn't know when he showed up. He didn't hear the door, or Buck's usual cheerful greeting. He's just glad he's here. There was a time when he'd try to collect himself. Scoop the broken pieces into some semblance of a person and pretend he's fine. But he's not. And he knows Buck's not either. Eddie twists and wraps his arms around Buck's neck, his shoulders shaking with each sob. Buck rubs soothing circles on his back, whispering reassurances to him Eddie barely registers. "I'm sorry," Eddie whimpers, holding tighter. "Hey, it's okay," Buck says softly, his own voice wavering. "I miss him too. I know."

Eddie doesn't know how long they stay curled around each other, holding each other together as the tears fall away. It reminds Eddie of the day Chris left. How he had turned to Buck and broke. They sat on the floor by the couch for over an hour, simply holding each other, clinging to the one and only lifeline they both had left. Eddie sniffles and takes a deep breath after God knows how long, finally collecting himself enough to lean back. He wipes his sleeves across his face and takes another shaky breath. "No word from him?" Buck asks. Eddie shakes his head. "You?" Buck shakes his head. "Doesn't mean he doesn't love you, Eddie." Eddie knows that, he does. But some days, his mind doesn't let him believe it. That was how he ended up in the closet floor, sifting through the evidence. "You still up for lunch with Bobby?" Buck asks after a few minutes. "If you're not, we can plan it another day. He'd understand." "I still want to go," Eddie says with a genuine smile. Just because he's having a shitty day doesn't mean Buck and Bobby have to as well. Buck stands and offers a hand to pull Eddie to his feet. Eddie stands with a groan and winces as his knees crackle. Buck giggles and opens his mouth to speak. "Don't you say a word, Buckley," Eddie warns, pointing a finger at him. Buck smirks and raises his free hand in surrender. "Wasn't going to say anything. I was just going to find your cane." "You're older than me!" Eddie squawks, lightly bapping his chest. "Your knees say otherwise," Buck grins. He tugs on their still joined hands. "Come on. Cap's waiting on us." He practically drags Eddie to the door. Eddie smiles, already feeling a little lighter. Buck's always been able to do that. Always been able to drag him from the depths of his mind so simply. Both their phones chime as they step out into the afternoon sun. Eddie takes his from his pocket as Buck does the same. Eddie's heart stitches a piece of itself back together at the notification. A message to the Buckley-Diaz (Chris picked the name) group chat: Superman: Happy Father's Day guys Love you The tears that fall from Eddie's eyes this time are filled with joy and love. He beams at Buck, who's wearing his Christopher-specific grin. Eddie pulls him into a hug and they dissolve into laughter laced with relief. Eddie knows they still have a lot of work to do. Frank even suggested having a therapy session with Chris. But this? This is a start. This is what finally lets him believe- "We're gonna be okay," Buck says, cradling the back of Eddie's head. Eddie curls his fists in Buck's shirt, holding tight. "Yeah. We're gonna be okay." He presses his temple to Buck's. "Happy Father's Day, Buck." "Happy Father's Day, Eddie."

[somerandomdudelmao]

I hope this kills you and makes your day at the exact same time. I'm winging this btw and it's all improv in mah brain so it might be longer than expected, idfk, we'll see.

Thanks so much for existing and giving us this comic in the first place now suffer-

-{###}-

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic. The holograhic screen lit up every surface within a 2-foot radius, the words big and bright against the darkened atmosphere. Beside himself, Mikey and Raph shivered on each side, looking anywhere but at Donnie's face. And even though Leo understood why they couldn't bare to look their brother in the eye right now, something deep inside of him still burned with annoyance. Because despite everything, it was still Donnie! They just couldn't see it yet!

Not like Leo could see very well past the hard, stable shell that his twin had built around himself. Not like he could tell how Donnie was really feeling. Not like his tireless efforts to reach out and help did anything noteworthy.

All it got him was...

"...Oh! And how could I forget the infirmary machinery as well!" Donnie continued, his voice raised in a professional manner that would make anyone else think he was just giving a regular presentation. "The infirmary duties will obviously be passed onto you, Leo, since aside from Casey, you're the most medically knowledgeable. Plus, I know you won't disappoint."

Of course, Leo wasn't anyone else. He could hear the manic cry for life and freedom and pain in his twin's voice, no matter how quiet. It was there, faint and far away, somewhere that not even Donnie could find it, but it was still there and it needed answering.

Donnie just kept refusing to look in the right direction.

---

It was well after midnight when Donnie pulled Leo aside for a chat about the affairs of taking on three positions at once. The leader of the resistance could barely piece together what Donnie was saying though, his words muffled by the bigger picture.

In the dead of night, as expected, Donnie's demeanor took a complete 180 shift, his expression barely masking the exhaustion and weakness he undoubtedly felt. His eyes were half-lidded and cloudy, a look that Leo's only ever seen thrice in those yellow and red irises. His shoulders, despite getting bonier and bonier by the day, were slouched in a lazy way that made the soft-shell look like a corpse. The purple hoodie he so much adored nearly reached his knees, the lost fat and muscle making the article of clothing seem bigger than it actually was.

But one of the worst aspects about Donnie's appearance didn't have anything to do with any signs of death or sickness. No... The thing that made Leo really want to throw up...?

Donatello was now shorter than Leonardo.

"C-come on, Donnie... Why would I need to learn any of this... Nerd... Stuff, if I already have you?"

A stupid question. Idiotic, dumb, foolish, stupid, demeaning, disgusting, stupid, gross, stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupid-

"Riiiiiight... Anyway, you'll need to remove that panel right there to get to the inner-workings of..."

But even though it was a stupid question, Donnie would've usually gone out of his way to answer it.

Why wouldn't he answer?

---

Two weeks.

It had only been two weeks.

But it felt like a lifetime.

Donnie wasn't dead yet, thank whatever god that's still out there that he wasn't, but Leo still felt like he was. Donnie was literally just there, he was just right in front of him, talking about the schematics of something or other, running his mouth like he's been doing for the past few days. Nothing truly notable about Donnie's health had really changed, no weakening brain cells or crippling disabilities. The only things that had changed were Donnie's height again and his now inability to walk.

His inability to walk. Just two weeks ago he was bouncing off the walls and biting people's noses off.

However, despite all of the physical evidence that Donnie was very clearly still here and alive, Leo couldn't help but feel like a part of him was gone. Dead, deceased, whisked away by the winds of time... It was hard to explain, even for him, how something inside of him just kind of... Faded away.

The Death, as Leo pessimistically liked to call it, was a slow and agonizing process, beginning all the way back when Donnie first revealed his worsening condition and then continuing on until now. It began with just a little click, a little pinprick of emptiness and loss and HURT that Leo didn't know how to fix. Then that pinprick slowly grew into a scab, then a paper cut, then a scratch, then a hole, and then finally evolved to a gaping wound that would take years to fix. It was just this... This agonizing feeling of emptiness and loneliness that Leo hadn't even felt when Raph first died. (Haha, funny. He's already died twice by now. Hilarious.) And no matter how hard Leo tried to heal it with potions and bandages and medicine and melatonin, it never went away.

Not even when Donnie stood directly in front of him.

And isn't that just hilarious? Isn't that great? Isn't that just Splendid? Isn't that just the coolest Revelation That LEO'S EVER FELT?? ISN'T THAT SO INTERESTING????

Isn't it funny?

---

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic.

He watched the ghost wave goodbye with a dramatic flair and a little giddiness in his step, the small soft-shell turtle barely able to show his hand from inside the giant sleeve of his favorite hoodie.

Leonardo waved back, a sad, forced smile and a train track of dried tears gracing his face.

Red enveloped Leo's vision one final time, and soon enough...

The half of himself that somehow still remained...

Faded away.

-{###}-

Haha get Disaster Twin'd idiot-

DLFNRJRIFJJTG3OFOFJEVDKDOSGDEKEBSIFJEIBDJDJDNFBFKFBFKRBRJRJRJRJD

I mean. Thank you. This is amazing and I love it with all my heart💜💙

[willowser]

ma’am i only found your blog yesterday but your ex hubby bakugo got me in a trance, and i hsjsksksksksk, but ill present you: ‘drunk ex husband bakugo’ i- i mean he would be so silly and calls you at 1am to tell you how much he loves you and the little one and how much he misses you, babbles away all the nonsense else, but the way he murmurs and mumbles silly things on the phone got you giggle at midnight (and sad at the time because holy hell you miss him too), then you have to talk him out of it to go home and sleep, he listens, he goes home, yeah, and 10 minutes later he shows up at your front door (still hella woozy) because he is just that stupidly drunk and he has always wanted to go home to you :((

ANON ??? OUCH ????? THIS MAKES ME SAD AKFJSODHAIA

i've always wanted to do drunk ex-whathaveyou bakugou that shows up at your door too late 🥺 but in this instance !! i feel like. you get a few calls in the middle of the night, but they're very short ?? like you wake up to your phone ringing and it's his number, so you're reaching for it, but it stops before you can answer. and you're thinking, "darn i must have slept through the first few rings," and as you're typing out a text to check in with him, he calls again for like two rings, and then it stops. and then he calls and it rings for one and then it stops.

and so now you're like — okay maybe he's butt-dialing me LOL but he tries again like 20 minutes later and you're so tired of the ring-tone that you answer it as fast as you can and just listen, waiting to see if you can hear his voice distantly, as if you're down in his back-pocket.

but he grumbles, "—the fuck? hello?"

and you ask him, "uh hey, have you been trying to call me?" but you're almost certain he doesn't hear you, because half-way through you are able to hear the loud background music and then the sound of shuffling, his grumpy lil "—the fuck off me, 'm—shut th'hell up—'m on the DAMN PHONE!"

clearly, there's a struggle, so you just kind of wait, worried you're about to hear your ex-husband get nerfed while on patrol maybe ?? but then the music drops away and is replaced by a barely-there scratchy wind, and he's breathless when he asks if you're still there.

"yeah, no, i'm still here. is...everything okay?"

he huffs, so heavy into the phone that the static almost hurts your ears. "whadda'you think?"

it's bitter enough that you blink in the darkness of your room, before glaring at the opposite wall. "excuse me?"

"fuck, 'm sorry, i—fuck." he inhales audibly, stuttering. "i'm sorry."

you frown, head turning; he sounds lazy, like he can't be assed to speak properly, and he's speaks impolitely on the regular — but it's never this bad. all his words sound curved, looped together, and he's shuffling too much on the other end, sniffing loud and mumbling to himself. almost like he's—

"are you...drunk?"

you're expecting an immediate no, even if evidence is proving otherwise, because he's not a drinker. occasionally, when he's out for dinner or at one of kirishima's backyard barbecues, but it's so infrequent that his tolerance is low, for someone of his size. it doesn't take much to have him a little sloshed, and he hates it, not only for the feeling the day after, but because his mouth tends to run. more than usual.

"it's that fuckin'—dunce head ass 'n his—stupid piano teeth, tape-face—"

kaminari and sero, you think. you think.

"'n i didn't want to fuckin' come to shit like this, ever. because they're so 'blah fuckin' blah, get over yourself', as if i'm—whatever. dumbasses." he pauses, and before you can finish piecing together what he's trying to say, he continues. "'n i'm not even like them, because they're fucking losers, and i don't—i don't even want that chick's number, okay? i don't fuckin' care, okay?"

your heart throbs dangerously, suddenly swollen and too tender, at the very thought of him and someone else, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut tight. "bakugou—"

"bakugou?" he cuts you off loudly, offended. "'r'you fuckin'—sorry, shit. bakugou? you're a goddamn bakugou—"

you have the throw the blankets off your lap so that you can hurry to your bedroom door, to shut it before hissing at him. "i'm not gonna sit here and get cussed out, katsuki. we're divorced."

"sorry! fuck, i'm—i mean—sorry, sorry. 'm not—it ain't at you, y'know? you know that, right?"

and you do. you do know that. it's just how he talks, he would tell you, and he would cut down on it for a little while before it inevitably came back and — it just hurts, at times. to be on the receiving end of his hottest flame.

"yeah," you tell him quietly, leaning against the door when he sighs. "yeah, i know."

"she—" he groans, deep and frustrated. "she fuckin'—god, sorry. she did that t'me all th'time, y'know? 'cut the fuckin' attitude, katsuki,' 'n then fuckin' SMACK!" you can hear the sharp sound of his slap, metallic, like he's against a lamp post or something. "but then she's comin' up t'my room, all like, 'y'know i love you' 'n—how 'm i suppos' t'know that stuff?"

he's never really spoken about his childhood; his parents, yes, through comments here and there about how they irritated him, but nothing serious. you've seen firsthand how tumultuous his relationship with his mother is, and she still smacks him around, but he's big now, much bigger than she is; you never considered what it was like for him, when he was younger.

even if he is drunk, even if he won't remember tomorrow — you still want to be there for him.

you realize he's waiting for an answer, with how long he's quiet, and you shrug to yourself before gently saying, "i don't know, katsuki. it sounds like it would have been very confusing."

"yeah, i mean—" he exhales slowly, though the end trails off into a growl, as if he's grown frustrated again. "i would never fuckin' hit you."

"i know that, katsuki, and i've never thought you would. and i would never hit you, either, y'know?"

"yeah," he repeats, and you can hear him swallowing, the sound so thick that you think he might choke. "i'd never hit you, or—or—hey, where is he? i wanna talk to 'im."

at the mention of your son, you peek down the hall to make sure his door isn't open, that he's not snooping around like you've caught him doing lately — but it's still mostly closed, and you don't hear any little feet against the hardwood.

you squint at your phone, blinded momentarily at the blue-light as you check the time. "it's the middle of the night, katsuki, he's asleep."

"did he have a good day?"

"yeah, he—"

"tell me about it. tell me th-the whole thing."

and — you do, as he listens and grunts and murmurs little things you don't catch. occasionally, he'll groan, really quiet like he's trying not to cry, and it's after the third time he asks to speak to him again that you finally decide to call him an uber.

and you put in his home address !!! but not thirty minutes later, you are sort of roused out of sleep because he's lightly knocking on your door, in the middle of the night, and you have to get up and go check so he doesn't wake your son up !!!!

and he's probably a MESS, all red-faced and SAD, rubbing at his eyes, almost tripping into your house because he was leaning against the door. it's not even worth arguing about getting him to his actual home because it's late and he's being a little loud, so you just give him some water and make him lay down on the couch and — he's out like a light right away LOL

but. you wake up a few hours later to him laying in your bed, on top of the blankets, his pants are on the floor but his shirt and jacket are still on LOL and he's not quite touching you, but if you jostle even a little bit, his face will press into your back 🥺 you don't know when he got up and came into your room, but he was sober enough to be quiet about it, and when you wake up in the morning, he's already re-dressed and sitting with your son at the kitchen table 🥺

WAAAAHHH i made this so sad. i'm so sorry akjfajfajaljfa he's such a BABY !!! god help me, bc if it really was me, i would take him back in a heartbeat LOL

[caashmoneynae]

MY MASTERLIST. -> click here for more!

❦

HERE.

KING VON x @msinterlude 🤎

SUMMARY: in which Miya runs into a creep at a party & Von comes to her rescue. ✨

❦

"𝗥𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥: 𝗪𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗔' 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬 𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗔𝗟𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧?" Miya's friend Imani asked, looking between the three girls in the car, as Miya sat in the passenger seat adjusting in her half-up half-down ginger locs and silently nodded her head while Kierra and Breanna vocally agreed, making Miya chuckle softly under her breath because she knew that none of them would end up staying together that night.

honestly, Miya wasn't a party person, so she didn't even know why she was going with her friends to a house party, but peer pressure was a motherfucker. at each party they've been to, the group would always end up splitting up and Miya would be left with one of her friends while the other two wandered off and couldn't be found until 30 minutes to an hour later, which was no longer a surprise to the light-skinned girl.

almost all of her friends would end up either tipsy or drunk, and she'd be the only one sober, which meant she'd have to take on a parental role to keep all of her friends safe from the creeps that attend parties for the wrong reasons. sometimes she didn't mind it, but other times it was annoying having to take care of three grown-ass women like she was their mother. however, as long as they were safe and sound, she couldn't necessarily complain like she wanted to.

Miya wore a brown, mid-thigh-length, spaghetti-strap dress, Imani wore a mid-thigh-length turquoise tube dress, Kierra wore a mid-thigh-length red backless dress that had strings that were tied around her neck, and Breanna wore a yellow two-piece that consisted of a crop-top and a mini skirt. each of them had a different style than the other, and it was evident in their outfits and hairstyles because none of them looked identical.

"if it ain't no fine niggas at this party, 'Mani, we gon' fight," Kierra threatened, raising a brow, as she crossed her arms and Imani chuckled while parking her car on the curb near the house, "i'an get all dressed up for some weak ass niggas, girl."

"you think i'ma bring you to a party where it ain't no fine niggas at? you think of me that lowly?" Imani pouted, resting her hand on her heart, "i'm hurt."

"you did it like twice before, 'Mani, ain't nobody forgot about that." Breanna laughed as Miya and Kierra laughed with her and Imani playfully rolled her eyes.

"playas' fuck up, a'ight?" Imani laughed, tucking her black tresses behind her ear, as she picked up her phone and checked her lips to make sure they were still glossy, "but i got the drop that it's gon' be some fineeee niggas in here from Von, and i basically had to beg him 'cause he talkin' 'bout some "i'on fuck wit' that gay shit, lil' folks." like, nigga, just tell me if it's  gon' be some good-lookin' niggas there or not!"

"you shoulda' knew his ass was gon' say some shit like that." Miya laughed, shaking her head, as the two girls in the backseat laughed with her and Imani playfully smacked her lips.

none of Imani's friends had actually met Von, they just listened to the stories she would tell about their interactions. but judging by her getting the drop that it'd be some fine niggas at the party, they all assumed he'd be there also.

the problem is... none of her friends even knew what he looked like, so they wouldn't even be able to introduce themselves to him if they "saw" him unless he spoke first.

"you right," Imani laughed, taking the keys out of the ignition and handing them to Miya to put in her purse since she didn't bring one, as she opened her car door and got out, "time to go nigga-searchin'!"

"shitttt, you got that right!" Kierra laughed, opening the back door and hopping out, her brown ass-length boho braids moving with her quick movements while she pulled her dress down and shut the door behind her before following behind Imani.

Miya and Breanna got out in sync, Breanna's honey-blonde low ponytail swaying back and forth as she got out. the two shut their doors and Miya let out a chuckle as she locked the car doors and put Imani's keys in her purse before zipping it up and adjusting the strap on her shoulder while she clutched it to her hip.

"this 'bout to be a longggg night."

—

the sound of Snoop Dogg's "Gin N Juice" blared into the large house as Miya and Breanna stood side-by-side, cups residing in both of their hands while Miya held her phone in the other.

just like she thought, the group had split up yet again, and this time it was Imani and Kierra who had wandered off, leaving Miya and Breanna to tend to each other. neither of them had a clue where they went and assumed they were most likely in the kitchen refilling their cups with liquor.

either that, or they were flirting with some random ass niggas they found because they thought they were cute.

nonetheless, the party was lame for Miya, and she didn't know how long her phone could occupy her before she went to search for her friends so they could all leave. she had gone through damn near all the apps on her phone and was now in her Notes app, sorting and deleting some of her notes to create space in her iCloud.

"aye, Bre', i gotta' use the bathroom! come wit' me real quick!" Miya yelled over the music, leaning closer to Breanna so she could hear her more clearly, as Breanna yelled back "okay!" and the girls went off to the bathroom, holding each other's hands so they don't get lost while Miya tossed her cup in the black trash can nearby.

Miya stepped inside the bathroom and locked it behind her as Breanna stood guarding the door so no one would go inside. the closed door muffled the loud music and Miya sighed in relief due to her incoming earache as she did her business, wiping her sex clean of urine before flushing the toilet. she washed her hands with the hand soap by the sink and was about the use the towel to dry her hands but paused, looking at it suspiciously.

"ain't no tellin' what somebody did to that shit." Miya mumbled to herself as she shook her hands dry and lightly patted them on her dress, being careful not to get her dress too wet in the process.

Miya adjusted her ponytail and watched it swing from side to side as she adjusted her breasts in her dress, protecting them from spilling out. she gently rubbed her temples with her index and middle fingers, preparing herself to be engulfed in the loud music for a second time.

opening the door, Miya thought she'd be greeted by Breanna, but she was unfortunately incorrect. Breanna was nowhere to be found once she opened the door, and this made Miya's eyebrows furrow in confusion and her heart drop to her stomach.

"where the hell..." Miya mumbled, yet it was inaudible due to the loud music and people around her, and she huffed as she ran her hand down her face, clutching her purse and phone tightly to her side while she began walking through the hall to try and find Breanna.

at this point, Miya was over the entire party. she just wanted to find her friends and go home, she didn't care about "enjoying" herself anymore. as long as she found her friends and left the party safely, that was all that mattered.

"ayo, light-skin! wassup with'chu, ma?" a man suddenly grabbed Miya by her wrist and pulled her towards him, making her face scrunch up in discomfort while she looked at the man, "you got a man, baby?"

"man, get offa' me. i'an interested in nothin' you sayin', take yo' hands off me." Miya retorted as she tried to snatch her hand back from the man but he tightened his grip on her, making her skin begin to crawl while the alcohol from his breath tickled her nose.

"don't be like that, light-skin, lemme' fuck with'chu," the man slurred, licking his cracked lips at the woman, as Miya cringed and tried to pry his grip off her wrist but to no avail, "you must ain't got no man, ma, 'cause if you was my bitch, i wouldn't let yo' fine ass out my sight."

"aye, nigga, get'cho hands off my girl, fuck you got goin', gang?" an unfamiliar voice spoke as the man carefully but forcefully yanked Miya's wrist out of the creep's grasp and nudged her behind him, confusing Miya even more but she was grateful for the help.

"oh, shit, m-my bad, Von, i'an k-know she was with'chu—"

"yeah, yeah, a nigga really ain't tryna' hea' all'at bullshit. keep it pushin', bitch ass nigga." Von retorted, bucking at him, as the creep flinched and quickly scurried away, nearly tripping over his own feet from how tipsy he was.

"Von? oh, so this is 'Mani's homeboy?" Miya thought in awe as Von turned to face her and gently grabbed her arm, analyzing her slightly-bruised wrist, "why she ain't tell me how fine this nigga is?"

Von wore a Dickies suit with a white tank top underneath his open top and white high-top Air Force 1s on his feet as an "O-Block" chain sat around his neck and jewelry rested on both of his wrists and his pinky finger, a red bandanna tied around his hairline while his two-strand twisted locs hung freely in his face.

if Miya's vibe hadn't gotten killed by that creep, she would've definitely shot her shot at that moment.

"you heard me, shorty?" Von's voice knocked Miya out of her thoughts as she looked up at him, subtly realizing the height difference between them.

"huh?"

"i asked if you was a'ight. you got a lil' bruise formin' right hea' an' shit." Von repeated, leaning down to her ear so she could hear him better, as his cologne flooded Miya's nostrils and she nearly melted in front of him.

"oh, my bad, i'm good. thank you for askin'." Miya assured, cracking a smile, as Von nodded his head and held out his hand, signaling for her to grab it and follow him.

grabbing onto his hand, Miya felt all her uncomfortableness wash away as her palm rested in his, following close behind him while he led her out of the crowded hallway and towards the front door. though Miya hadn't known him for long, something about him made her feel safe, and she didn't know what it was. regardless of what it was, she was grateful he showed up when he did, or Lord knows what would've happened to her.

the two walked out of the front door and Miya's eyes instantly locked on her friends. Imani and Kierra were flirting with what seemed like two men who were friends and Breanna stood by the car on her phone tapping vigorously like she was texting someone. suddenly, Miya's phone began buzzing over and over again, and once she checked it, she realized Breanna had been texting her the whole time and none of her messages had delivered until now because Miya didn't have good service in the bathroom or the hallway.

come to find out, Von spotted Breanna being hit on by the same creep that approached Miya, and he defended her and took her outside with Imani and Kierra, but because Miya's phone didn't have good service, Breanna couldn't warn her about the creep in time, so she sent Von back inside to go look for Miya because her intuition told her that something was wrong.

"aye, Bre', i got ha' fa' you." Von announced, making Breanna look up from her phone, as Von let Miya's hand go and Breanna quickly rushed over to the girl, engulfing her in a hug while Miya embraced her with a soft chuckle.

"you okay? you ain't run into that creepy ass drunk nigga, did you?" Breanna questioned, letting her go, as she tucked strands of her hair behind her ears.

"i'm good, Bre'. and unfortunately, i did, but i'm okay, i just got a lil' bruise on my wrist, that's all," Miya assured, showing the girl her bruise, as she looked up at Von before looking back at Breanna, "you should've seen the way he started stutterin' when Von came. if i wasn't uncomfortable as hell, i woulda' busted out laughin'."

"he did the same shit when i was in there, niggas don't ever learn they lesson, girl," Breanna chuckled, analyzing her wrist and gently holding it in her hand before letting it go, "lemme' get the keys off you, My'My, i'm 'bout to go sit in the car 'til y'all ready to go."

Miya took her purse off her shoulder and handed it to Breanna as she took it and walked off to the car, digging in it and grabbing the keys while she unlocked the doors and slid into the passenger seat. as if on cue with the car door closing, Von and Miya locked eyes, a shy smile creeping onto Miya's face while she broke away from his gaze and glanced at the ground.

"thank you for steppin' in back there with that creep. if it wasn't for you, i would've had more than just a lil' bruise." Miya thanked him as Von chuckled at seeing her purposely avoid his gaze and cracked a small smile.

"you scareda' me a'sum'?" Von joked as Miya's smile slightly widened and she laughed, their eyes locking for a second time while Miya slightly fiddled with the strap on her dress, "but that ain't nun', Miya, i'm just doin' what a real nigga 'posed to do, y'know what i'm sayin'? niggas ain't 'posed to be doin' no ho ass shit like that to no female."

"duh, i know that, but still... thank you for bein' there, Von," Miya smiled as Von smiled at her and nodded his head, "any way i can repay you for your heroic act?"

"yeen' gotta' do nun', shorty, it's cool," Von assured, pushing his locs out of his face, "but since you offerin', lemme' get'cho numba' and lemme' take you on a date."

"...you fo'real?" Miya hesitantly asked, raising a brow, as a large smile slowly spread across her face.

"i'm deadass, shorty. i'an call you my girl fa' no reason," Von chuckled as Miya's brows slightly furrowed before she quickly realized that he did say that when he came to her defense, "plus, i gotta' make sure you straight at all times, ma. can't have no otha' random ass creepy niggas fuckin' with'chu, gang."

"mhm... i guess," Miya joked, blushing, as Von laughed and she held out her hand, wanting him to give her his phone, "where you gon' take me, Von?"

"now, why would i tell you that, ma?" Von chuckled as the two swapped phones and exchanged numbers, "i want it to be a surprise. it wouldn't be a surprise no mo' if i told you where i wanna take you, Miya."

"okay, you got a point," Miya laughed as she took her phone back and her eyes locked on his contact name, "Von 🦁", making her smile before she turned her phone off, "it's gettin' late, i should probably go get my girls from them random niggas over there before they get kidnapped."

"aye, my niggas ain't no kidnappers, girl. 'Mani and Kierra in good hands," Von chuckled, catching Miya off guard because she had no idea he and her friends' acquaintances were connected, "but you should be gettin' home anyway. you got a curfew, lil' mama."

"oh, please, boy, i'm grown as fuck," Miya playfully sassed as the two laughed before Miya turned her attention to her friends, "aye, lover girls! time to go home!"

as if on cue with Miya's words, Breanna started up the car, the headlights shining into the front yard while Kierra and Imani came stumbling over to the vehicle with drunken smiles on their faces.

"well, i got kids to take care of. see you later, Vonny." Miya joked as Von chuckled and the two embraced each other in a warm hug, his hand gently grabbing her arm and kissing her bruised wrist before the two parted ways.

"let me know when you make it home and i'ma call you, a'ight?" Von asked as Miya smiled and heard a car door shut, making her glance behind Von to see Imani and Kierra in the backseat.

"I will."

[room-surprise]

I understand if this is outside your field of expertise, but do you think if the ornamentation of the clothing that (some of) the kobolds drawn by Kui wear is inspired by anything?

Actually this is exactly my field of expertise! I studied costume design for about two years in university before switching to something else :) So clothing is something I love looking at and talking about, and fashion history is one of my favorite elements of history in general!

HOWEVER, though I have some experience with subject, I'm not a fully trained expert in the field, and I know that I may not have all the answers, so please take what I say with a grain of salt. This is only my educated guess.

I'm assuming that you're talking about this page from the Daydream Hour book:

To start with, the caption says: "Kobolds that appear in foreign games and fantasy often have a reptilian appearance, but we chose an appearance that is more familiar in Japan." This doesn't tell us anything about their clothing, but I wanted to translate it to make sure it didn't say anything about their culture.

(You can read more about why the Dungeon Meshi kobolds are dogs in the Half-foot chapter of my Dungeon Meshi research project)

Kobolds likely live all over the world, but their large population centers are all located in the Western Continent, so that is probably the region they consider home.

So those two kobolds on the bottom left of the chart, who appear to be wearing European-inspired clothing, are probably living somewhere in the Eastern hemisphere, where Northern/Western/Central/Eastern European clothing is the norm, while the rest are likely from the West. So we can discard the European-looking clothes, since that's probably not a part of the kobold's traditional culture.

We have very limited information about the Western Continent, but these images plus what we know about Kabru (His name and Utaya's name are both South Asian, the dessert that comes from Utaya is South Asian) and the elves (several of them have South Asian names, some elves wear South Asian clothing and bindis) makes me think there's probably a strong Indian/South Asian influence in the Western Continent. It's a large land mass, so I don't think it's all South Asian, but South Asian culture is the only thing we have conclusive evidence of so far.

The majority of the kobolds are wearing brightly colored tunics with patterns on the hems, or what seems to be dresses/tunics made of draped fabric, also with hem decoration.

It IS worth noting that Kui avoids drawing elaborate patterns, even when it would make sense for her to do so. She does it only a couple of times in the manga and uses screentones instead whenever possible. So the simple hem decoration and single color fabric may just be an artistic choice that doesn't mean anything other than "I didn't want to draw a pattern." However, it's all we have to work with, so I'm going to assume it's intentional.

The repeated over-the-shoulder draped fabric the kobolds are wearing seems like it could only be a Greco-Roman style toga, palla, or cloak, or a South Asian saree. We have seen Western elves wearing garments similar to all of these on occasion, though obviously Kui has made some changes. As I say in my essay, I don't think any of the cultures in Dungeon Meshi is an exact copy of a real-world culture, Kui is remixing things together.

(Except for the Island of Wa, which seems to be entirely based on Sengoku-era Japan.)

Roman togas were just large pieces of cloth that they draped around their bodies, and they were usually white, with brown or black reserved for the lower-classes or for use during mourning, and purple or red reserved for extremely important people. Embroidery and trim, if they had it, was usually either very simple (plain colored stripes) or very elaborate (images of people, animals, or things).

So I think that rules out the toga as a possibility.

On the other hand, the saree and dupatta are also large pieces of cloth draped either around the body and over the shoulder (and sometimes the head), and usually they are either a single plain color, a plain color with a decorative trim, or an all-over pattern. This is a lot closer to what Kui draws the kobolds wearing.

(Pictures and more text after the cut)

Toga:

Saree:

The tunics the kobolds are wearing could be many things, as what's visible is not an uncommon neck shape. They could be something like a kurta, kaftan, or abaya (tunic/robe)... And there's probably a dozen other similar garments that I'm neglecting to name.

There are a million variations on the kurta, but these neck styles looks like what Kui is drawing on a couple of those kobolds.

However, some of the tunics COULD also just be a depiction of what is often called a "Viking tunic" or kyrtill (Nordic name for a kirtle or tunic).

However in Dungeon Meshi, the kyrtill is extensively worn in the Eastern hemisphere, primarily by dwarves, tall-men and half-foots. So I don't think the Western hemisphere kobolds are wearing them, and the style of trim looks different to me than what Kui drew.

Kobold fashion could also be influenced by any culture from North Africa, West Asia, or the Middle East, as these are also cultures that appear to dominate the Western hemisphere of Dungeon Meshi, and that have similar fashion cultures involving patterned textiles and draping cloth/veils/head coverings...

However, because of what seems like a large draping cloth over the shoulder, and the combination of trim with a solid color, I think the primary influence is South Asian rather than these other cultures.

I hope that helps! And keep in mind that Kui loves to remix things, so I'm sure there's elements from other cultures that would fit right in with what she's shown us of the kobolds, if you want to get creative with your fan works!

[pacificwaternymph]

Aaaaand everyone give it up for WASTED POTENTIAL

Season finale spoilers under the cut

Okay. I'll be honest. The finale was... not what I was hoping for.

I tried so hard to remain optimistic. I truly believed they could pull it all together and everything was going to have a satisfying conclusion. But I guess that's my fault. I set my expectations too high.

Is this about Tech? Primarily, yes. Yes it was. I am so disappointed. And you can make fun of me all you want but I genuinely believed, with all my heart, that CX-2 was Tech.

BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK ELSE WAS THERE SO MUCH EMPHASIS ON HIM

There was so much to suggest that CX-2 was somebody we knew. We spent so much time on him, suffered through so many completely unnecessary, in hindsight, close up shots and random pieces of episodes that focus on him, only for him to get javelined through the middle in the span of half a second.

It feels like the writers were just making fun of the viewers, at this point. Haha, can you believe they actually thought?

Yes, we did think! Did you?

Tech's death was so... unconvincing. They didn't even try. Not only was his life "cut short" in the midst of his character development, said death was caused by falling, without any other kind of injury, while we watch him disappear into the clouds. And then we see no body and only have his broken goggles as "evidence" of his death. What the hell else were we supposed to assume?

That's not even bringing up that Tech gets maybe three mentions all throughout the entire season. The show never touches on how the death of one of their squadmates, people they have known since birth, affects the batch. Not once do they ever say out loud that Tech is dead until the fucking finale.

This isn't just me reading too closely between the lines. This is genuinely bad writing. It's loading chekhov's gun and then refusing to shoot it.

Even if CX-2 wasn't Tech, or even somebody we knew, the way he is treated suggests that he was supposed to be important. He was supposed to be be relevant. And now, he's neither!

Furthermore, where fuck was everybody? Where was Rex with the reinforcements to storm the base? Where was Wolffe deciding he didn't want anything to do with the Empire anymore? Where was Cody? Where was Phee in all of this?

Where was Cid? So we're just... not going to get any kind of closure for that? We spend two entire seasons with her, then she just betrays them and we never see her again? Even if they didn't redeem her, that feels like pretty damn bold move.

The Zillo beast does... barely anything. Really? It just breaks out and moves away from the biggest source of energy it will ever find after causing the slightest amount of property damage to two rooms, and storms off into the woods, and that's all we get? Seriously?

And then once we get to the time jump... Echo's gone. Again. Either still off with Rex, if he hasn't gone into hiding yet, or died off screen. Neither is a good nor satisfying ending for his character. But I guess shouldn't be surprised by that. When have the writers ever cared about Echo?

The biggest problem with the whole thing is that it didn't feel like a finale. It felt like a normal episode, just slightly longer. The Bad Batch returned to Pabu, because I guess there are no consequences from the Batch being discovered there before and the empire decided that they were just going to... leave it alone, and everything returns to the status quo. That's not what a finale does, Dave.

Maybe I'm being too harsh. There were parts that I enjoyed. I'm glad Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair got their happy endings. Seeing Omega all grown up really did something to my heart. But overall I am just so frustrated.

[iaure]

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗱

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city. tw: general yandere behaviour, stalking, harassment, ptsd, mentions of panic attacks, entrapment

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ wait a week, muerte...a week off...but i am apparently incapable of that. i'm certainly not complaining. these next two chapters are going to be much shorter, as there's more plot as well as giving your coworker a name, but leon's perspective is coming next!! i've also been getting into welcome home arg; it looks very fun!!

things had been dying down.

♡ your life had been smoothing itself out after that night with Leon, and he'd been taking it upon himself to walk you home when you close.

♡ you've been more relaxed, especially if he stays the night. he doesn't sleep in your bed, sure, but it's nice just having him around.

♡ the eyes on you seemed to have gone away, and things in your house stopped moving.

♡ or, at least, you wanted to tell yourself that.

♡ but some pieces are clicking, forming one horrible, ugly puzzle.

♡ you figured Leon had always been a bit focus on you. that much was obvious.

♡ but you began actually seeing how he treats you.

♡ he's clingy, dedicated; it's almost like worship.

♡ his eyes are always on you, no matter what.

♡ if you weren't in his line of sight, he'd evidently freak, or at least be upset-the bed incident was a great example.

♡ he knew everything about you, but you knew next to nothing about him.

♡ his birthday? his favourite colour? family? nothing.

♡ all you knew was his name, and that he survived raccoon city, which you weren't even sure of at this point.

♡ how much of what he said was a lie to get close to you?

♡ and his name! it took you far, far longer than you would've liked to put together what K meant - K for Kennedy.

and it broke your heart.

♡ because Leon was just so sweet.

♡ he was so caring to you, carrying groceries and hanging out with you and at one point even attempting to cook you dinner, which ended up burnt beyond belief.

♡ you didn't want to accept the idea that it was him doing all of this.

♡ but everything only made sense if it was him.

♡ maybe he used to sneak into your house, but your superintendent changed your locks and you'd been inviting him into your apartment.

♡ maybe he'd been satisfied from that.

♡ either way, you weren't sure how to handle it.

♡ lately, you've been trying to avoid him.

♡ you haven't been able to make him not walk you home, not yet, but for different shifts you've had some peace.

♡ he hasn't been watching you the way he did before-not lately.

♡ but he has been mopey.

♡ about half of the time, if he tries coming into your work, you hide in the back.

♡ your coworker, bless her, always covered for you.

♡ if Leon asked where you were, she'd respond that you were were working in the back, smooth as butter.

♡ Leon would mope, and ask to see you, but your coworker would make up a smooth lie. your favourite had been that your boss had gotten upset with how distracted Leon had been making you, so you'd been placed in the back to be more 'efficient'.

♡ Leon would leave with his tail between his legs.

♡ speaking of your coworker, you'd be confiding in her more!

♡ her name was Selia, and she was a sorely needed ally.

♡ she was much taller than you, and younger by about a year; but she acted mature, and had a sharp tongue and quick wit, so working with her was always pleasant.

♡ she was the only other employee at the bakery aside from the owner, and she often was in charge of the baking itself.

♡ you confessed to her about your suspicions with Leon, and she took it upon herself to try and help you.

♡ she acted as though he'd committed something far more vicious, accusing him of capital crimes.

♡ and as much as the situation sucked, it made you laugh.

♡ you knew Leon was picking up on it, too.

♡ he'd been more irritable to Selia and other people that hung around you, and far more clingy to you specifically.

♡ he never got mad, but you hated to think just what his version of mad would look like.

slowly, you began replacing Leon with Selia.

♡ it was Selia walking you home, Selia was your pizza buddy, Selia stayed up with you on the phone when you were having a panic attack; Selia was your friend.

♡ there were a handful of times where Leon would go out of his way to catch you.

♡ he'd show up during another (surprisingly frequent) power outage, geared with his wonder bag and board games, only to discover that you had invited Selia instead.

♡ he'd come literally running down the block, trying to catch up to you during a closing shift

♡ but he'd stop dead in his tracks - literally skidding to a stop - a yard away from the door when he'd see Selia holding the lock for you so you could get your things together.

♡ and you knew it hurt him.

♡ but how else were you going to cut him and his creepy antics off unless it was cold turkey?

♡ but sometimes, through the backdoor, during those power outages, during those moments after closing, you'd catch his eye.

♡ and the look he gave was haunting.

♡ it's as though the soul was sucked out of him, every time.

the guilt was going to eat you whole.

♡ there was the off chance that it wasn't Leon - that it was some other creep doing this. that little chance that you were just putting him through emotional torture, for no reason.

♡ but who else could it possibly be?

♡ who else would fit the profile so well?

♡ and were you willing to take that chance? were you willing to bet that it wasn't Leon, only for him to do something drastic? like kidnap you?

♡ no, you thought not.

♡ after a week of your forcible separation, you thought Leon got the message.

♡ you didn't feel him on you anymore; he didn't show up to your shifts. he was...gone.

♡ you walked home alone for the first time in forever, and all was well.

♡ you eventually got to the point, after three or four days, that you assumed he simply gave up.

♡ he'd find some other person who was pretty and smart and just the fit for him, you were sure.

♡ you began walking home more and more, against Selia's advice. But you didn't listen.

♡ it was a warm spring evening that you got home, and off-beat, everything was fine.

♡ you set your bag down, hoping to simply change out of your work clothes and then melt into your couch.

♡ in the middle of you changing, though, you heard a weird noise.

♡ it was by your door; a weird sort of 'thunk'. you wondered if some dipshit kids outside had thrown something against it.

♡ you huffed.

♡ once you finished changing, you stepped out of your room, ready to call some parents.

♡ but your heart stopped cold.

♡ Leon was in your living room.

♡ immediately, you looked to your front door, but he'd apparently already thought of that.

♡ he had put his wonder bag in front of it, and you could see inside several, at least dozens, of weights-the fabric of the bag was fraying the seams, several weights spilling over onto the floor. it was something that Leon would have trouble with, let alone you.

♡ it took a second for you to look back at Leon.

♡ and he looked...good.

♡ he'd done his hair, dressed in nice clothes, and had a set of flowers on the coffee table. if the situation was so nauseating, then it'd be almost cute how nervous he looked.

♡ he rose, playing with his hands

"we need to talk."

𓂋

ʚ♡ɞ taglist

@theybotomy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @kujosuke ⸜❤︎⸝‍  @je-suis-argent-miel ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @xxacademy

[delulu-hours]

Big idiot

Paring: Steve McGarrett x Latina!Reader

Summary: You always knew that Steve was a reckless idiot. One that you couldn't help but adore; however, sometimes you don't know what to do when he tries to hid things from you.

A/N: This take place in season 1 episode 24. There is some mild use of Spanish. It's not much but I hope you guys enjoy it. Much love

"You, my friend," Danny's voice could be heard as the front door opened. "Are an idiot. " A smile pulled at my lips as I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel.

"This again?" Steve groaned, and I bit back a small laugh. "Danno, how many times have we gone through with this? My methods are efficient."

"Efficient?" Danny exclaimed. "Please, they are crazy. "

"You boys arguing again?" I left the kitchen and saw them standing close to the door. They both looked at me as I smiled at them, amused. "What happened this time?" I titled my head to the side and placed my hands on my hips.

"Y/N," Danny pointed at Steve, "A rational person who will agree with me." Steve ignored Danny's comment as he smiled at me. A twinkle in his blue-green eyes as he took three sizable strides, closing the gap between us.

"Hey there, beautiful." His hands found their way around my waist, and he pulled me close.

"Hola, handsome." I could hear a groan from Danny as I placed a quick kiss on Steve's cheek. "Now, why is Danny calling you crazy this time?"

"He's exaggerating." Steve pulled me to his side as he turned to look at Danny. He tilted his head a bit as he gave him a look. I noticed the frown that settled on Danny's lips.

"Is he now?" I raised an eyebrow as I looked back at Steve. "Danny, why is this man an idiot?" I stepped forward and out of Steve's hold as I looked back at Danny. He looked at me with his light blue eyes before he glanced behind me at the man who reached out for me; his fingers lightly touched my arm. He quickly avoided my gaze as he looked down a bit.

"Angel," Steve called for my attention, and that was how I knew this wasn't good. Whatever his idea was, he didn't want me to know.

"Danny," I wasn't going to budge. Steve wasn't going to tell me. He would brush it off, and Danny was the only one who would tell me out of the two. "I'm not gonna ask again."

"He wants to break into the Governor's mansion." Danny's voice was quiet that I barely missed what he was saying. I stood there as I felt their gaze on me and tried to process my thoughts. Process what Danny just said. I bit the inside of my cheek as everything started to make sense.

Steve had been on the edge ever since he started to receive those envelopes. Envelopes that were filled with the evidence his father had left him. Evidence that linked to his father's death. I took a deep breath before I nodded slightly. "I-" I cleared my throat, trying to figure out what to say. Did I have the right to say anything? Steve and I had only been together for six months. "Danny, would you like some fruit?" I decided to change the topic. "I was in the process of cutting the fruit if you like some." I brushed past Steve as I went back to the kitchen. I picked up the knife and returned to cutting half the watermelon I had left. I could hear their soft voices before Danny awkwardly came into the kitchen. He picked at the fruit before he placed a kiss on the side of my head.

"I'm gonna head out," He glanced behind me, and I kept cutting the watermelon. "I gotta do something." He snatched another piece, and I shook my head.

"Here," I looked through the cabinets and pulled out a Tupperware. "Take some with you." He gave me a small smile as I filled it with the mixture of fruit I had cut. "Yo no lo necesito todo. (I don't need it all)" I had been in the craving mood for some, feeling as if the day would end well.

"Thank you," He pulled me into a hug. "You are the best." I gave him a small smile and handed him the container before going back to cutting the bit of watermelon I had left. I was a little too into my thoughts as Danny's words repeated.

"Hijo de puta, (Son of a bitch)" I hissed as I pulled a finger back in pain. The blood slowly started to form around the cut on my finger as I brought it to my mouth.

"Are you okay?" Steve rushed into the kitchen, and I nodded. He pulled my finger out as he looked at my wound before dragging me to the bathroom. "Sit tight. Let me get the first aid kit." He glanced at the wound again as I sat on the toilet seat. He opened the mirror and pulled out the small first aid kit on the lower shelf. I stayed quiet as he moved to sit on the side of the tub. He grabbed my hand and began to work on it. "This might sting a bit." He mumbled as he opened the saline solution cloth and gently wiped the wound. I winced a bit but allowed him to clean the wound. It was quiet between us as he rubbed in some Neosporin and wrapped a band-aid around it.

"Thank you," I said softly as I watched him gently rub the band-aid. He looked up at me and sighed.

"Talk to me." He hooked his finger under my chin and had me meet his gaze. His thumb touched my lower lip as he held eye contact with me. His eyes searched my face, almost begging me to talk to him. To say something. I took a deep breath before closing my eyes.

"I don't like the idea of you breaking into the Governor's," I said softly. "You're doing something dangerous, Steve." I opened my eyes as I began to think of all the possible outcomes of his doing this. None of it went well.

"I have to do this." He cupped my cheeks, and I leaned into his touch. "Something is not right here, and I must find out." I couldn't help but frown as I placed my hands over his.

"I understand that amor," I bit my lower lip. "I understand that you need answers, pero why did you try to hide it from me?"

"To protect you." He answered back as he placed a soft kiss on my lips. "I didn't want you to worry about me, and I didn't want you to be in danger." He moved and placed a kiss on my forehead.

"Eres un idiota. (You're an idiot)" I pulled away from his touch. "You can't keep hiding things from me." I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "If this relationship is going to work, I need you to be honest with me. I understand that there are things you won't always be able to tell me, but I need to know what you can." I held his hands in mine as I looked down at them. "I can handle myself, but what will you do when I chase after you because you didn't tell me what you were doing?" The corner of his lips tugged downwards.

"I'm sorry." He held my hands tightly before he brought them up to his lips. He placed a kiss on the back of my knuckles. "You're right. No more secrets." He promised with another kiss on the back of my hand.

"You do what you have to do," I moved to cup his cheeks. "I will be here waiting for you to come back to me. That's all I ask for is that you return to me no matter where you go or what you do."

"I can do that." He flashed me a smile, which I returned with one of my own. " I will always do everything I can to return to you."

"Good." I moved forward and kissed him. His smile grew against my lips, and he pulled me into his lap. A laugh left his lips as I let out a slight surprised noise. "Steve!" I lightly smacked his shoulder before shaking my head at him. His beautiful ocean-blue eyes gleamed with contentment as the green specks seemed to glow a little more. He held me tightly by my waist as he looked up at me. I moved my arms around his shoulders and ran my fingers through his neck.

"You look beautiful today." His fingers moved up my shirt, touching the slightly exposed skin.

"Don't even think about it, buddy." I patted his shoulder as I pushed myself off his lap. "You're not gonna get that lucky today." He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side as if this was a challenge for him. I shook my head and moved away from his touch, which caused him to stand up. "Steve, I'm serious." I pointed a finger at him and took a step back. He gave me that smile as if he wouldn't take me seriously. "Please," I gave him a slight pout, "I prepared some food so we could enjoy it."

"Only because you asked so nicely." He raised his hand as if he was giving to my demands. I smiled as I held his hand out to him.

"I had a huge craving for something fruity," He took my hand as I pulled him with me to the kitchen. "And I think I might have gone too overboard on the shopping." I could hear the small laugh he let lose from his nose as he took in the fruit I had yet to cut.

"Little?" He raised an eyebrow. I smiled as I bit my lip and plopped a mango into my mouth. I shrugged and held a melon up to his lips. He didn't fight it as he opened his mouth and took the piece. He let out a slight hum as he nodded.

"Good, right?" He reached for another piece. He mumbled as he shoved the other piece in his mouth. "So worth it then." I took a strawberry and bit into it; a small moan left my lips as the sweetness of the strawberry filled my tastebuds. Steve pulled me into a kiss, and I didn't fight him as I moved my arms around his neck. I pushed myself up on my tippy toes and leaned into him. I hummed into the kiss as I felt his tongue touch mine as he deepened the kiss. He pulled back and smiled as I clung to him.

"Definitely worth it." He winked at me. I bit my lip and shook my head as I pushed him away.

"You're a big idiot." I plopped the rest of the strawberry in my mouth.

"Your big idiot." He took another fruit.

[tangerinebathrobe]

I'm finally done holy shit. 2.6k words please enjoy

Here's your honorary proof:

anyyyyway soapshippers enjoy. win for the community I hope

A minute. A minute consists of sixty seconds. However you break that down – two lots of thirty seconds, four of fifteen, six of ten, sixty of one, every minute that passed was sixty seconds. In sixty seconds, Tyler could do a lot.

In sixty seconds, Tyler could do something like pour lye into his mixture for soap, or onto someone’s hand following a very personal kiss. He could hit somebody so hard their orbital shattered, or their eardrum burst. He could break somebody’s nose. He could give an order that set fire to a store, or he could drag somebody into the only disabled bathroom stall in a nearby truck stop and lock the door behind him, simultaneously emptying the contents of a small gym bag into the sink. He had found the place a few weeks ago, he said. He’d patched another guy up in here first, maybe himself, evident by the leftover bandages and blood.

In that disabled bathroom stall, with the door locked behind us, Tyler and I looked an unlikely duo. At thirty looking all of fifteen, still scrawny and unbalanced like a boy going through his parent’s break-up, I paled in comparison to him. He had a thin tan line going up over his hip, like a thong, and a body like something from a Calvin Klein ad beneath the loose shirt and khaki pants. It was an uncomfortable reminder of our first chance meeting, him perched in the hand of God as naked as a baby.

I sat on the provided stool and tried very carefully not to pull the daunting red cord hanging from the ceiling. 

“Take your shirt off,” Tyler commands.

Okay, I say. Tyler takes a tour of my visible injuries. His gaze lingers on the bone-deep scraze over my shoulder, and the two-finger width cut on my stomach from the concrete floor. In all reality, that would need stitches. Allowing Tyler and a needle anywhere near my abdomen seemed like a bad idea, and so I resigned it to being held together by two pieces of medical tape. 

His eyes trace the outline of the bruise map, and he chews over his lip, tonguing the split for all it was worth like a trashy hooker, or like Marla Singer–

Most days after Fight Club, work was bearable. Corporate decomposition in corporate wounds was sped up by corporate maggots that liked the sweet taste of your newly broken rib. 

After waking up and spending an hour looking at the flowering bruises spanning from your hips to your chest, you’d contemplate the migrated bone in your knuckle. 

Then, you’d put on your only clean shirt and a tie in a half-baked half-windsor knot, only as tight as your broken fingers could pull it. Maybe you’d even wear a belt, if those same fingers could handle fumbling with the clasp. 

Lastly, you’d slip your feet into shoes that folded at the back when you put them on, and you’d leave your briefcase at home because there were always pencils at the office, and the reports were always re-printable. They were only half-completed anyway.

However, most nights after Fight Club, you’d find yourself falling as hard as you could into bed with blood still dripping from your mouth. 

Choking down your teeth, you’d brew enough water for a packet of Cup-a-Soup and mix it together and drink it as fast as you could to get rid of the taste. Then you’d lay down in bed like a patient on a crash cart and imagine the wires strapped to your body to soothe your throbbing head into oblivion.

Either that, or you sucked it up and sat for a half hour idle outside the bathroom while the designated rookie-of-the-night dug pieces of broken nails and bits of bone out of wounds ready to be wiped with peroxide and sent to Examination Room 1.

If you needed the ER, you’d go alone. If you passed out on the street, too bad – you should have gone sooner. Of course, going two, three nights in a row negated whatever fixing could be done. 

Thus provides a causal explanation for why a white button-up was apparently the right choice to wear when Tyler and I went again tonight.

“–Cool, thanks.” Tyler says over his shoulder, watching me undress in the mirror while he himself contemplates the idea. The buttons are harder to convince the lower my fingers get, especially with the distraction of Tyler similarly slipping off his shirt. They seem as captivated as I am.

Once the battle is finally won (though, not the battle of ego, as that would have required all ten fingers in place and functioning, and Tyler not to have stripped right down to his birthday suit), Tyler corners me once again. 

“You’ve been bleeding through that shit all day, did you know that?” Tyler says matter-of-factly. “Yeah. I tossed you a clean one in the bag, and it's in the sink, but you need that fucking thing bandaged up, ‘kay?”

Yes, Tyler, I reply. “Cool,” he says. He grins, running his tongue across his teeth. “It does need to be cleaned first, though.” 

He lines up the items in the sink. A bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a small bottle of lye powder, a roll of bandages, a clean outfit, and a small box kit with medical thread and needles. They sit lined up like The Beatles.

So? Wait, Tyler. You’re not using hydrogen peroxide on it. 

Tyler stares at me expectantly. 

Absolutely not. I’m not letting you do that. 

“I think,” Tyler says patiently, “You need to consider the idea that getting better is going to hurt a little.”

Tyler, if you open that bottle of peroxide, I’m pulling this goddamn cord.

“By all means, go ahead. But you’ll have to walk to the ER alone once you finally decide it’s bad enough to warrant treatment, and God save you if you collapse on the way there. Then again, God doesn’t really like you. I do. I’ll do it right now. You won’t even feel it.”

Yes I fucking will! It’s hydrogen peroxide! 

“Okay, fine. Iodine then.” He says with a shrug. He rifles around in the sink, producing another small bottle. He approaches me like a rescue worker walks towards a stray cat. He gets on his knees in front of me, bottle of iodine and a piece of toilet paper in hand.

The iodine stings a little. Not as badly as hydrogen peroxide would’ve, but it still elicits a hiss every now and then. Tyler is digging his hand into the two-finger cut harder than necessary, but if I whine, he digs them in harder. “You good?” asks Tyler. Yes, I reply, strained. “Cool,” he says. “I’m almost done.” 

While he cleans each individual cut of the scraze, Tyler talks to me. I’m not even listening to half of it, just chiming in with the occasional

Yes, Tyler. Thanks, Tyler. Wow, Tyler. That’s So Great.

And it slowly sets in that I am so tired. Tyler also seems to realize this. He stands up to get the bottle of hydrogen peroxide. I scramble to wrap my hands tightly around the cord, like a baby desperate for release from the womb.

Tyler, if you bring that bottle anywhere near my goddamn wounds, I will yank this cord down. I’m not messing with you.

“Oh, I know,” he says. “That’s why I cut it earlier.”

I look up. The cord indeed is no longer attached to its mysterious hole in the ceiling, instead tied to one of the railing supports. It slides down uselessly with a single yank. Tyler advances with the bottle. Tyler, I warn. Tyler!

“They need to be clean before I bandage them, do you understand?” Tyler says, far too easily grappling my hands and winding them up in the cut cord. A devilish grin spread over his face. I shake my head frantically. Tyler leans down over me with his newly retrieved bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “This is going to get all the dirt and shit out. All the nasty shit you don’t want in your body.”

Yeah, and all the healthy tissue too.

He uncaps the bottle and crouches as I lay helplessly, shirtless and bound with my arms above my head. “It’s going to sting a little, ‘kay? Cool.”

Tyler tips the bottle over the two-finger cut.

The feeling of the peroxide burns worse than lye. I know this, because I know that the chemical compounds are different.

H2O2. Two hydrogen atoms, two oxygen atoms – Hydrogen peroxide is incredibly dangerous to wounds. It doesn’t just eat the dead tissue and bacteria, but everything alive, too. That bubbling you see when somebody pours it over their scraped knee? It bubbles when it comes into contact with catalase, an enzyme that the body releases when tissue is damaged. Those little bubbles are oxygen escaping cells on their way to the heart.

NaOH. One sodium atom, one oxygen atom, one hydrogen atom – Lye is used in alkaline cleansers for very, very rich people to rub on their faces, fancy brands like Albolene and Roche-Posay. It’s supposed to be good for you, but in reality it eats your skin alive. It digs into every crevice of available dermal tissue. It eats through subcutaneously, and it really does open up your pores.

Every muscle in my stomach spasms and jolts. My mind is wandering to work.

My boss, Richard Chesler (Regional Manager, Compliance & Liability Division, 39210 North Pennfield Blvd, reachable at (288) 555-0138 or simply by walking into his office – because that office is open at any time, to any of his employees!) had once stapled his hand. They had solved this issue by dabbing a tissue dipped in hydrogen peroxide onto it, and he had been in so much pain he’d almost pissed himself.

I’m sure I have already pissed myself, as Tyler pours a significant helping of peroxide onto my shoulder. It dribbles down my chest in burning streams and catches every tiny wound it can find. I try not to think about how stupid I must look with my hands bound above my head and my pleasantly fitting work pants soaked through with piss. I try not to think of agony –

Ag · o · ny 

noun

agony (noun) · agonies (plural noun)

extreme physical or mental suffering: 

“He writhed about in agony.”

–Or the fact that Tyler stands triumphantly above me. He resets his fingers one by one, correcting all the migrated knuckles or errant phalanges. Then he perches on the stool and sets about cleaning a scrape on his calf with a small bottle of iodine. I kick my feet and scream as loud as I can. He pays no mind. He lights a cigarette.

Imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light. That’s right, your pain, the pain itself, is a white ball of healing light. Follow it to the door in your heart. Go to your cave, and find your power animal.

I screw my eyes shut. Go to your cave. That’s right, go to your cave. The floor is ice. The penguin is sitting there plainly.

Slide, it utters. Slide.

“Man, are you even listening to me?” Tyler’s voice cuts in and so does the scalding pain of the peroxide. “Don’t tell me you’re doing that stupid pseudo-therapy bullshit again. This is like your hand. You’ve gotta feel it, man!”

You don’t know what it’s like, Tyler! You don’t know how bad this hurts! 

Tyler turns around to reveal white, blistered wounds on his back. Once again, he has beaten me to the punch. “Five more minutes, man. Then I’ll bandage you up.” Five more minutes, he tells me, and I tell myself, but I know it’s a lie. Five more minutes won’t change a thing. Slide, I utter.

I feel like Richard Chesler (Regional Manager, Compliance & Liability Division, 39210 North Pennfield Blvd, reachable at (288) 555-0138 or simply by walking into his office – because that office is open at any time, to any of his employees!) with his hand firmly in somebody untrained’s grasp. How did the hydrogen peroxide feel in his stapler wound? How many people in that office heard him screaming and came running?

I’m screaming, but no one hears. No one cares. Tyler certainly doesn’t. Five more minutes. Count back from sixty, five times. Three-hundred seconds.

Five minutes. Five minutes consists of three-hundred seconds. However you break that down - two lots of one-hundred-fifty seconds, four of seventy-five, six of fifty, three-hundred of one, every five minutes that passed were three-hundred seconds. In three-hundred seconds, Tyler could do a lot.

In three-hundred seconds, Tyler could do something like pour lye onto the sizzling peroxide, or onto the bubbling scrapes. He could kick somebody so hard their already broken rib snapped a little further back, or a little further forward. He could break somebody’s finger. He could yell an order to stop crying so damn hard, or he could finally wet a scrap of bandages and start wiping the hydrogen peroxide and lye mixture out of somebody’s wounds.

In the next sixty, he could throw somebody the clean change of clothes from the side of the sink. He could cut their hands loose and he could take his cigarette outside the bathroom. He could sit on the sidewalk and smoke.

I get up. Stare into the mirror. Who is this? This imposter with bloodshot eyes, peeling scabs and a five o’clock shadow that screams neglect? I splash water on my face, rinsing away the bubbles of dead cells clinging to my skin. Parts of my genetic information wash away down the drain. Dead parts of my genetic information, but parts nonetheless.

Clean clothes feel like dressing a corpse. Of course, it’s a temporary fix, like a band-aid on a bullet wound, but it’s all I’ve got. I’m moving like autopilot. Maybe I can kick back in my chair and let autopilot do its job. Reach the cruising altitude of 42,000 feet. Wait for the air hostesses to bring me a neatly packed microwave meal that doesn’t taste like anything, kicking just short of inedibly bland.

The air hostesses seem to be doing a good job, because within the next ten minutes, I’m bandaged up and clothed. Clean, but reeking of piss and sweat. Whoever cleans this bathroom will find a pair of urine-soaked pants and boxers in the garbage. If they look underneath that, they will also find a bloodstained shirt belonging to an average corporate everyman. If they even found the pants, that is.

Tyler is not sitting outside on the curb when I walk out in a pair of khakis and a nobody-knows-what-show graphic tee. Looking for Tyler isn’t a way to pass the time. The city’s a blur of gray and monotony. In the distance, people are moving like automatons, each lost in their own personal hell. I wonder if they feel it too. I wonder how they would feel if they had hydrogen peroxide poured onto their softest, weakest parts. I wonder how they would deal with their stomach spasming and cramping as they walk home. I wonder how they would feel losing everything, down to the last drop of dignity.

Losing everything brings you closer to yourself, I suppose. It hasn’t helped me yet, but it brought me closer to Tyler.

Speaking of, Tyler is nowhere to be found. At work, I’m just another cog in the machine, pushing paper and pretending it matters. At work, Tyler is a savior. He saved me from mediocrity. He also saved me from infection. 

I pass a car with a book lying in the passenger seat. Something by Friedrich Nietzsche.

I remember from Beyond Good and Evil: “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.” Too late, Nietzsche. I’m already there. I wonder if Tyler is, too. Or, I wonder if he feels like one.

The walk back to Paper Street is long. Tyler will be nowhere to be found.

(thanks so much to @soapycatsbath for proofing this about two million times because I cannot shut the actual fuck up. also @jacksprostate for the ability to write the narrator somewhat convincingly and @paperstreetlocal for their stupid fucking instagram stories I love you all and have a good morning. sorry for the yapping.)

[peachsayshi]

Hi love! 🧡 Could i ask for some Choso with the prompt "finally kissing, after a long time of pining" pretty please? I struggled between a few choices but I'm always a sucker for some mutual pining

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs dni

⥽ notes: tension; yearning/needy choso; virgin!choso; established friendship; suggestive

the bed feels smaller with choso settling in, his well built frame easily taking up most of the space. you nervously snuggle underneath the cover, mindlessly smoothing out the sheet in front of you and keeping your eyes fixed on the ceiling to avoid gazing at your crush.

half-human, half curse; but wholeheartedly the most beautiful soul you've ever laid your eyes on.

it's the third night, your last one together, and with the mission coming to an end you'll be back home before you know it. however, it still doesn’t erase the tension that’s been simmering over the past forty eight hours, and when you accidentally brush your bare shoulder against choso’s, you feel it all spark once again.

"sorry," he states apologetically and making the heat rise up your neck, "I can sleep on the couch if it's better for you..."

"don't be ridiculous," you scold playfully despite your voice wavering, "I can barely fit on that thing, much less force you to sleep on it."

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

his gentle tone grabs your attention and forces you to turn to him. his face is partially illuminated by warm light, a noticeable blush highlighting his cheeks which is framed by his black hair that falls freely down his neck.

your eyes dip to his exposed shoulders and upper chest, lingering on the prominent muscles. "I'm fine, I promise," you reply a little breathless and squeeze your thighs together.

he’s suggesting the alternative now,because the first night was spent with the two of you in this very same position, only choso was asking a lot of questions…

questions regarding human intimacies; about their needs, their lust, their hunger...

you can't help but be empathetic about his curiosity. after all, his mind is governed by two completely polarizing forces.

the conversation was innocent at first, but he made a bold declaration that sent shivers all over your body.

"I feel an ache whenever I'm around you," he confessed, "I can't explain it,"

"It's natural," you attempted to explain, keeping a neutral tone while brushing aside the way your cheeks stung. "sometimes I feel it too..."

"why does it happen?"

you can only shrug your shoulders, unable to fully define the laws of attraction to the man you longed for the most. he left you speechless with his admittance of yearning for you, and last night was stifling to the point where the both of you were completely on edge with each other.

the memory of that conversation now plagues your mind, and you can see it reflecting clearly within choso's dark eyes.

he's thinking about it too, recalling all the tidbits of information that you shared with him and carefully piecing it together.

“you seem a bit squished,” he states with concern, pinching his brows adorably as he shifts to lay on his side. the warmth of his palm finds your waist, and he carefully pulls you closer into him so you're rested more comfortably. “don’t want you falling off the bed…”

face to face, you both stare longingly at one another for minutes, like you're trying to pluck at the seams to find evidence of where this gnawing pain even begins.

teetering on the precipice of a very long drop, you lick your lips absentmindedly when you realize that choso's palm is still on your waist, his thumb now drawing tiny circles.

"this is better, right?"

he's so close that you can feel the vibration of his deep voice run right through you. "yeah," you sigh, inching even further into his touch, and boldly taking the leap as you arch your pelvis against his. "yeah, much better..."

your name sounds heavenly from his lips as he exhales from the contact, and you stifle another moan feeling his prominent bulge rub up against you.

"is this desire?" he murmurs into your lips, "is this why I ache?"

"cho-choso..." you stutter, but grow still when you feel him gently press his lips onto yours.

silence veils your loud thoughts. his kiss is so tender, so pure, motivated out of sheer instinct and nothing else. it's such a gentle act, one that brushes over your lips far too quickly that you find yourself tilting your chin up in search for him when he pulls away.

"it's only you," he groans with a twinge of frustration. "I only feel this way about you,"

he leans in again, this time allowing the kiss to linger, and you eagerly let him explore your lips, tasting his saccharine inexperience with every peck.

"this is how we satisfy those feelings, right? isn't that what you said?" he presses, begging for answers as his hand slips underneath your top to brush strokes along your lower back.

a tightness coils inside your lower belly, and you're only able to manage a hazy, "mhmm" in response.

"show me," he pleads, collapsing the weight of his body onto yours as he repositions himself over you, "please, show me,"

he looks unreal above you - a physical embodiment of divinity and sin. the breathtaking image of his angelic expression is constrasted harshly against that wild, lustful gaze, making it impossible for you to even deny his request.

half human, half curse; but as you nod your head and guide his lips back onto yours, you knew that moving forward all of him would forever belong to you.

⥽ requests?

[mushrubes]

You

Masterlist | The last of us masterlist

Requested : No!

Prompt 15 “this song reminds me of you.” + 42. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pairing : Joel Miller x (she/her) reader (No use of Y/n)

Type : fluff!

Contents : Age gap, mutual feelings, grumpy x sunshine, swearing!

Word count : 1.6k

You're loved :)

--------

"Sooo..." Ellie spoke up, walking alongside Joel as you walked ahead of the pair, just out of earshot. He raised his eyebrow, not turning to face her and waiting for whatever comment to come out. "When are you going to tell her?" she asked, a smirk on her face as she watched in amusement, seeing his face change through multiple emotions. "Tell her what?" he asked, trying to stay calm as he gathered she was most likely just messing with him - after all, it wasn't that obvious was it?

"You like her!" she huffed, rolling her eyes at the male as he shook his head vigorously, coming out with excuses. "I absolutely do not, Ellie. She's closer to your age than she is to me!" he half lied. It was true, you were younger, but Joel was so oblivious to the constant hints you had sent. Unknown to you, she had picked up almost instantly, as well as Tommy who had agreed to help her plan in getting the pair of you together. "God, you are so stupid sometimes! She doesn’t care about age!" she groaned, scratching her forehead. 

Joel bit his tongue as he looked ahead, his eyes settled on you. It was lightly snowing on your way back to Jackson, soft snowflakes falling. He watched as you looked around, taking in the scene around you. Despite the world having gone to shit, you still managed to find good in everything - perhaps that was the reason he kept you around. You saw the good in him, the side he couldn't even see himself anymore. He found comfort in you, seeking you out when he needed it the most. You listened to him and his doubts, always managing to assure him that he was doing the right thing and he was protecting you and Ellie. You told him how much you appreciated him daily. Showing him things he never thought he'd ever see again. 

You had one of his spare coats on, your's currently being fixed by Maria as it got torn on the last patrol you and Joel took. It almost drowned you, due to Joel being bigger built but it kept you way warmer than your own did, making you thankful for the fence that had ripped it. "See! You're oogling at her!" Ellie pointed out, earning a frustrated groan that was loud enough for you to hear, evident as you turned out in concern, switching between the two. "Is everything okay?" you asked softly, Ellie smirking as he glared at her. A small smile was plastered on your face as you watched the pair of them act like children. 

"It's fine sunshine, she was just telling me those stupid puns." he lied, glaring at the girl one more time before he carried on walking, now in front of you. "What did you do?" you asked, sighing as he only got into these moods when he was frustrated. She put her hands in the air, shrugging. "I'm innocent, he's just being a moody old man." she attacked, earning a snicker from you. "Don't be mean Ellie." you warned, a playful smile on your face as she grinned back, letting you pull her into a side hug. "Hurry up, unless you want to freeze out here!" Joel called, a stern look on his face. 

"Coming!"

----

You walked into the room, immediately gasping as you set your eyes on the familiar piece in front of you. "Ellie!" you called, gaining the girl's attention. She gasped as well, watching as you opened the draw underneath, seeing the multiple types of vinyl. The labels on them had been worn away, leaving the band and songs on them a surprise. "Woah!" she whispered, pulling them out. "What'd you find?" Joel asked, still focusing on the food he was cooking in front of him. It wasn't a fancy meal, but it was enough to fill you all up for tonight until you got your next load of food. "Vinyl player." you breathed out, grinning at the male who hummed. 

"How do you play it?" Ellie spoke up making you panic as you saw what she was doing, about to break it. "Hey, hey, hey, wait." you gushed, walking over and taking it out of her hands, placing it on properly as it played. "Dinner's ready." Joel announced, letting you take Ellie's arm and bringing her to the table to sit with you and him, leaving the music playing

----

"Come on, time for bed." you ushered, squeezing her arm. Unlike most nights, you knew you'd have no issue with persuading her tonight due to how tired she was from today - she was already practically asleep on your shoulder anyway. "I'll carry her up." Joel assured, already picking her up as you went to move, sending him a small smile. "Okay." you said softly, getting up and walking to the vinyl player to change the record. 

He carefully carried Ellie up, making sure to avoid any creaks in the stairs he knew were there and pushed her bedroom door open with his foot. She had managed to make it her own since you and Joel had agreed on moving to Jackson permanently. The cracked walls were repainted with a blush red she had asked for, lights strung around as well as a pinboard, polaroid pictures pinned to it thanks to the camera Joel had managed to find on a patrol with Tommy one day. 

"Joel?" she called softly as he pulled the covers over her, Ellie already having gotten changed into her pyjamas earlier. "Hm?" he responded, letting her know he had heard you. "Thank you." she stated, knowing she didn't have to expand and he would understand. He took a deep breath, kneeling beside her as he brushed the hair off of her face, illuminated by the lamp next to her bed. "It's okay." he mumbled, a weird feeling of nostalgia growing in his stomach as it reminded him of Sarah. He got up, reaching to turn the lamp off as they shared a smile. As he walked over to the door, ready to walk out she spoke up again. "I'm no longer cargo, right?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly causing him to feel guilty. 

Ellie was similar to Joel in many ways - the one way you were able to point out was overthinking. It was a natural thing to do, all humans do it even you, but she rarely spoke up about it. She would decide to keep quiet than confront it and bottle it up. This was one of the very rare moments she'd let it show, especially since she was now slightly older. She was determined to be independent, to show she didn't need any help with anything, just to prove herself. "No, kiddo. You haven't been for ages. We see you as family." he comforted, trying his best to word it. 

We. The word rang in her head, making her grin as she realised that not only was she sure Joel saw her as family but so did you. You saw her as part of your family. Her stomach filled with butterflies as well as a fuzzy feeling, getting rid of her doubts and certain she was where she belonged. "Now get some sleep, Kiddo." Joel told as she nodded before realising he couldn't see. "Goodnight Joel." she bid, snuggling up to the plush you had given her ages ago. "Goodnight baby girl." he smiled, pulling the door gently. 

Carefully, he made his way down the stairs, coming back into the living room where you were still sitting. When you saw him, you gestured for him to sit next to you, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you laid your head on his shoulder. The gentle, familiar tune filled the room as you smiled. "Dance with me." you questioned, looking up and feeling your cheeks heat up as you saw him already looking at you. His face changed; uncertainty obvious as he doubted the idea. "I don't know..." he sighed, looking at you as you stood up, frowning at him. He didn't say anything else, instead standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms were around his neck. 

Your head was pressed against his chest as his head rested on top of yours, swaying you softly along to the song. "This song reminds me of you." you admitted, catching the man off guard. He thought to himself for a few minutes before responding. "How?" he asked, curious as to what to respond. You scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing ever. "Because I know you'd give up everything just to be me and El." you spoke up, answering as if it was easy. The comment put a smile on his face, making him happy that you were somewhat aware of the extent he'd go for you two - his girls (admittedly he'd go further than you probably think, but he wasn't going to tell you that).

His eyes welled up slightly as he thought how lucky he had gotten. It was a living hell, yet he'd found two people who didn't see him like the others. They didn't see the ruthless, cold-hearted killer that he'd lost his brother over for a bit. He was safe with you two like you were with him. Even though he was the protector, you two helped him feel safe from everything. Able to forget about the current state of the world when he was with you two, giving him a place to rest - like a sanctuary. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he admitted, seeing you had pulled away and wiped the tears he hadn't even noticed were falling. You rubbed his tears away with your thumbs, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Well, thankfully you'll never have to know. "

[rd0265667]

Sullyoon x Reader: Rain

TW! Infidelity

A/N: Just wanted to write a short kinda sad piece, idk why

You felt the rain, hitting your back and soaking your shirt. It didn't matter though, nothing really matters, does it? 

It's hard to think that anything matters anymore, when just half an hour ago, everything that ever meant anything to you, shattered. Broken. Left in pieces. You wandered aimlessly in the rain. Where could you go? She was your entire life, everything. You couldn't go anywhere, without a glaring reminder of what she did to you.

Still, try as you might, you couldn't escape reminders of her. Walking past a small alley next to a beautiful garden, you peered in, grimacing as you reminisced on memories that once brought you so much joy. Now, all of it seemed like a cruel, elaborate joke. A trick the universe wanted to play on you, for sins you didn't know you committed.

Walking in the suffocating rain, you couldn't stop thinking about what you had witnessed. How could she do this to you? How could she break every promise she made to you? How could she betray you? It burned you to your core, the anger, anguish, rage, but most of all, hopelessness. To say that you had imagined a life with her wasn't an overstatement. You wanted to take care of her after her hard days recording music videos, you wanted to be by her side whenever she felt sad, or tired. You wanted to spend your life with her. You wanted to get married to her. Start a family with her. Have kids together with her. Have her. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you were the problem. You wanted too much, and the universe punished you for your selfishness, in a way that hurt, a way that stung you. To the core. Ripped your heart out, and curb stomped it

As you walked, your legs gave out, knees buckling and collapsing under not just the physical, but emotional torment you had gone through in the past half hour, falling to the ground as you pushed yourself up against a pillar.

All of a sudden, the rain stopped crashing on your head, but the rain still fell all around you. You lifted your head, seeing a figure standing before you, through your cloudy vision. She stood before you, an umbrella in her hand as she sheltered the two of you, a look of remorse on her face.

"Y/N...I'm sorry." Sullyoon whispered, extending her hand to you.

You scoffed, slapping the hand away.

"Go away Sullyoon, I don't want to talk to you." You could barely whimper, averting your gaze, not daring to look into the eyes of the woman who you still loved.

"Y/N, please." She said, remorse evident in her eyes, but what was remorse going to do? Wipe away the betrayal? The pain? No, didn't think so.

"How long?" You mumbled, a swell of rage bubbling in your chest

"Y/N plea-" Sullyoon pleaded, trying to avoid the question

"HOW LONG!" You couldn't hold on any longer as your rage exploded from your chest, bolting up at Sullyoon who recoiled in the shock.

Her head hung low, averting her gaze as the guilt of the situation rushed through her

"two months" She whispered, as you chuckled bitterly

"Two months. Two months you let me believe that you were faithful to me. Two months you told me you loved me and only me. Two months you lied." You seethed, before Sullyoon dropped her umbrella, both hands holding your hand as she cried

"Please, Y/N, it was a mistake, you're the only one I love! Please! Can you give me another chance? For all the happy memories we have, Y/N. Please." She tugged on your arm, as you felt your heart melt a little.

But as fate would have it, as you turned to look at the woman you loved, as you looked into her eyes, gone was that sweet innocent girl you fell in love with. All you could see now, was the pain, the torture, torment and betrayal she had put you through

She looked pleadingly into your eyes, the two of you under the pelting rain, before you shut your eyes.

"Memories. That's funny. We always thought our happy memories would last forever, living forever in our memories, then the memories of our children. The happy memories that we swore to never forget, memories that helped us through tough times. But a fickle thing, memory is. It's remembered as long as it's treasured, and our memories were, treasured. I hoped I would always keep those memories, but thanks to you and your actions, all those memories, all the moments we shared, all the love I had...all the love I have for you, will be lost in time.

Like tears in rain"