#poodling? when you just have the head and paws

[jonny-b-meowborn]

I've been thinking about making myself some crochet furry clothes, like a hat and mittens, and I think I finally have the idea of how to do it

[aurumacadicus]

Pride Pockets 17--I Need A Dog's Life

Kink belongs at Pride. I will not be arguing a fact.

Anyway don't think about the fact that Tony can and has played as a pup alone because it will make you sad. As always I choose to cause psychic damage to Bucky whenever possible. No actual sex but lemon just to be safe. You can also find this fic on ao3 (here.) Look out for under the cut!

--

Bucky turned the mask he’d found over in his hands slowly, taking in the details with a sharp, careful eye. It felt rubbery in his hands, but the inside was buttery soft. Seemed breathable, too, as he ran his thumbs under the eye holes. It was shaped like a dog’s head, with a muzzle and ears. There was a black rubber nose and a tongue hanging out of its open mouth. He turned it over in his hands again. The ears attached to it were longer than he expected, ending in scalloped edges, and covered with curly white fur from the scalloped edge up to the top of what he now recognized as a hood.

The hood’s base under the fur was pink. Somehow, while Tony had been explaining everything, he had never mentioned that when he pretended to be a dog, he liked to pretend he was a little pink poodle. He bit back the urge to smile fondly. Tony might run the tapes back later and think he was laughing at him, and it would break the tentative trust between them. He didn’t want to chance Tony even maybe thinking that, especially when it had obviously taken a lot of courage to tell him about it to begin with.

He set the hood on his lap and turned to aim his attention toward the unobtrusive trunk Tony had left out for him to look through, reaching in with careful fingers. There was a bolt of furry fabric, he thought, but then he held it up and realized it was a vest with white faux fur on the outside, curly like a poodle’s hair, just like the ears on the hood. His fingers lingered on it as he shifted where he sat, considering the texture of it, but finally, he picked it up and moved it aside. There was a set of… mitts? Boxing gloves? Bucky reached out for one to look it over. From what he could see, it looked like Tony would put his hands in the mitts and cinch them closed so he could have paws. That was… neat.

Before he could explore further, Bucky sensed eyes on him. He took a moment to wonder if he should pretend that he hadn’t noticed and keep exploring the trunk, but then he decided it was more important for Tony to feel heard, that he would know that Bucky would check in just to make sure everything was still alright. He laid his arm on the trunk and turned to look back toward the closet door, heart breaking a little when he saw Tony peeking in at him, looking bored, even though Bucky knew in his gut that he was terrified.

“So,” Tony said, casually crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. He cleared his throat, eyes landing on the trunk instead of meeting Bucky’s gaze. “Anything looking like a deal breaker yet?”

Bucky took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, trying to center himself. “Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you pretending that you’re a dog is one of the least weird things about you. You once ate an entire sushi boat by yourself and then looked at me and said, and I quote, ‘I think I hate sushi.’”

“Anyone would say that after eating fifty pieces of sushi,” Tony barked defensively. “And you could have helped me, coward.”

“And you think this cute mask is going to make me leave you compared to what you just said?” Bucky scoffed, looking down at the mask again. His finger trailed over the hood’s nose. “This is adorable. I bet you’re a cute dog.”

Tony said nothing for a moment, staring at him, as if he was looking for even a hint of a lie in his face. Bucky didn’t let any hesitation or confusion show in response. He’d had a lot of practice early in their relationship, when Tony had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. This was too important for any misunderstandings. Yeah, it was technically pretty weird, but not in a way that put Bucky off—just in a way that made him want to understand more.

“…I’m always cute,” Tony finally said, and Bucky would allow himself a relieved fist pump later. He shifted on his feet, then finally took a step closer, bending at the waist to peer into the trunk. “Anything in there that you don’t understand?”

“Everything’s pretty straightforward, I think,” Bucky said, leaning over to look in as well. “It’s really only the mechanics I think I have questions about, but, you know, I’m a quick study.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, finally dropping to his knees beside the trunk so he could paw inside, examining the contents as if he hadn’t been the one who put them there. “Worst case scenario, I just play by myself. I’ve done it before, so it’s no big deal.”

Bucky didn’t do him the disservice of insisting he could play with him despite his reservations. Tony had only explained the barest bones of what he liked to do, and that was just… dress up like a dog. Which, he decided, staring at the furry vest and the paw mitts, was probably a healthier outlet for him than overworking or drinking, things he’d used to do in his youth. “Why is your mask pink?” he asked as Tony finally pulled out a harness with a tail on it.

Tony lifted his head to blink up at him placidly. “Oh. Because I like being a bitch in heat sometimes, and it helps remind handlers to call me a good girl,” he answered, and Bucky choked on a gasp and started coughing. Luckily, he saw fit to ignore Bucky’s surprise to continue, “It’s been a while since I’ve done that, though. It’s no fun pretending to be in heat if there isn’t a stud around to do something about it—”

“I can be a stud,” Bucky croaked. He wasn’t quite sure what that might entail, but if his minor understanding of dog breeding was accurate, he could extrapolate.

Tony lifted his head to give him a slow, disbelieving blink, hands still buried in the trunk. “…Are you just offering that because you like having sex with me? Or are you trying to do something for me?”

Bucky instinctively balked at the question, but then he took a moment to regroup, before he said something that might hurt both of them. He considered the question instead of jumping to defend himself. Was he only asking because he liked having sex with Tony? He was offering up something a lot more intimate than he had before. Sex was good, but this was a kink Tony had, and it had taken him quite a lot of courage to admit it. He didn’t want Tony to think he wasn’t taking him seriously.

He tried to imagine Tony in the hood he was still holding, the vest with its immaculate curls and the mitts with pink paw prints on the underside. Tony barking and crawling around on all fours like a dog. He tried to imagine himself doing the same thing. He pushed past the instinctive ‘that’s weird’ and ‘I could never,’ because he never would have expected Tony to be able to do it either, and he apparently enjoyed it enough that he was willing to do it by himself, even if his partner couldn’t see the appeal.

It might be nice, to be able to clear his head and just… be someone else. Something else. Not Bucky Barnes, recovering assassin and prisoner-of-war. Sometimes he still felt the need to run away, or got stuck in his head. The idea that he could escape all that, if only for a moment, to be someone who just focused on the next bowl of food or next belly rub… Something that got to pad around the house, and make noise, and sleep whenever he wanted, to take up space and…know he was taken care of. It didn’t sound terrible. At all.

Bucky cleared his throat, then haltingly answered, “I like having sex with you. But. I think. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try. I don’t… need all the fancy stuff. Just the hood and the. Tail probably.” He looked back down at the hood in his hands, thumbs stroking over its cheeks. “I want to make you happy. And. Sex is… normal. Not normal—comforting? Something I know how to do. I could probably figure it out as a… a dog. I mean, it’ll probably actually be easier that way, won’t it? Pure, uh, animalistic need.” He sucked in a deep breath carefully, then looked back up at Tony. “So I guess. I’m asking you for both reasons.”

Tony stared at him for a long time, eyes lingering on the hood Bucky was still gently stroking his thumbs over before drawing them back up to meet Bucky’s. “I don’t think you’d make a particularly convincing poodle. Poodles are smart.”

Bucky blinked, mouth dropping open in shock. When it registered that Tony had dropped a joke on him, he couldn’t help a bark of laughter. “Hey!” Tony offered a shy smile, and Bucky took that as a sign that the eggshells he’d been carefully stepping over had been swept away. “I can be a different dog. Crossbreeds are popular these days, aren’t they?”

Tony hummed thoughtfully, leaning back on his hands. “Hm. I’ve won awards. My owner would probably only want to breed more poodles than waste a pregnancy on mutts.”

Bucky felt his face twist into a filthy leer, but he couldn’t stop it if his life depended on it. He leaned in toward him, licking his lips as Tony slanted him a coy look from under his lashes. “Tony. Are you by chance referencing my fantasy where this ol’ Brooklyn boy seduces and ruins a Manhattan socialite?” Tony tipped his head, not answering, but his eyes glanced back at the hood in Bucky’s lap. It clicked for him then exactly what Tony was trying to do—to make it something he could get off on doing, too. He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve seen this movie. Natasha bullied me into watching it with her as part of my ‘reintroduction.’ I’m not sure how I feel about making a Lady and the Tramp sequel.”

“They already made one, and I’m still mad you guys covered the fifties and sixties while I was out of town,” Tony retorted, scowling. “I wanted to watch The Sword in the Stone with you guys. I had a lot of opinions!”

“You own several versions of Arthurian legend. I gleaned your opinions,” Bucky said, but Tony was already extolling the virtues of each iteration of the Arthurian legend, up to and including children’s books, and he knew the puppy play thing was going to be tabled for a while.

.-.

To Bucky’s mortification, as he was mulling everything over later, the idea of entwining his fantasy into something with dogs… didn’t necessarily seem weird, or even particularly difficult. Tony had indulged him in his fantasy several times, and tweaking it here and there so he was a dog horny jerk sullying Tony’s reputation was… doing something for him. Mounting Tony with the looming threat of an angry owner sent a thrill through him, especially as he compared it to his fantasies where he was snatching a sought-after beau out from the claws of other wealthy socialites who his parents had actually wanted to match him with.

He found himself checking out websites for different styles of hoods. Something… tougher. As tough as a mask could be, anyway. He couldn’t help but wonder what Tony would like. He wanted it to be good for him. It had taken a lot for him to admit that he partook in puppy play, and Bucky had noticed that Tony had held himself tight, as if he was getting ready to run, or… preparing for a blow. He tried not to think about Tony’s issues too much, but it was fucking hard sometimes. It made him work harder to make him happy. But every surprised smile that Tony gave him was worth it.

Bucky finally decided on a brown hood with pointed ears. It was less cutesy than Tony’s poodle one, and it appeared to have a wider mouth, which he wanted so that he was less likely to be triggered by the memory of the muzzle he’d had to wear under Hydra. He sent the link over to Tony with a simple question mark. He didn’t really know what else to say, after all. He wasn’t as invested in this as much as Tony was, so he’d go with his preferences.

Have you ever considered wearing a knotted sheath on your dick? was the only response he got back, and Bucky sat back in his seat to stare at the wall and wonder if he would ever know everything about this time—or, barring that, everything about Tony.

.-.

Luckily, Tony was okay with him foregoing the sheath thing. “It was a bit much to expect when you’ve never played before, anyway,” Tony had said, packing it away, but luckily, he hadn’t looked mad or even upset about it.

Bucky looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. The hood was a little claustrophobic, but the discomfort was negligible. He’d also decided on a black tank-top to cover his torso, because he’d been feeling the fur on Tony’s vest, and it felt kind of itchy after prolonged experience with it. Tony had offered to buy a different vest, but Bucky saw no point when a fix as simple as a shirt was on the table. Maybe, if they decided they wanted to continue with this, he could; until then, there was no point shelling out for something only to use it once when Tony already liked what he had.

Bucky had put on his leather riding gloves instead of committing to a full paw, and he flexed a hand carefully just to check and see if Tony liked it as much as he usually did. To his gratification, Tony’s eyes slanted over from where he was fixing his vest. He flexed his hand again, until the leather creaked under the strain, and Tony began leaning toward him.

Then he blinked, as if stunned, and reached out to smack the back of his hand into Bucky’s shoulder. “Cut that out.”

“Fine,” Bucky huffed, amused, and lifted both his hands to catch the mitt Tony threw at him in response, apparently unimpressed by how sorry he wasn’t. He loosened the laces so that Tony could easily shove his hand in. “You’re sure you’re okay with me just wearing the hood and tail?”

“Every new pup’s gotta start somewhere,” Tony answered reasonably, twisting his hand back and forth. “I like the laces tied in a bow.”

Bucky shook his head a little, smiling. “Of course.”

Tony waited until Bucky gave his ‘paw’ a little pat, then shoved the other mitt at him. “I didn’t see any knee pads when I was looking through your stuff, so I bought you some.”

“Thanks,” Bucky answered, focusing on tightening the laces on his other mitt. Then what Tony said registered, and he blinked once, twice, before finally looking up at Tony’s face. “Huh?”

“…I only have a couple rugs in the penthouse?” Tony explained slowly, raising an eyebrow at him. “Bucky, I know you heal quickly, but even your knees will be fucking killing you after an hour on my wood floors.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m only gonna mount you for an hour,” Bucky retorted immediately. Then he actually thought about how it would feel for his knees to be on Tony’s wood floors for an hour and winced.

“You’re such a fucking dumb ass,” Tony sighed, but he looked endlessly fond instead of annoyed. He shook his head with a slight roll of his eyes, then nodded down his body.

Bucky obediently looked down, eyes skipping over the furry vest. They lingered on his dick for a moment, but then got distracted by the leather straps of the harness holding Tony’s tail up. Tony looked good in leather. He should bring that up later. Get him some other harnesses, maybe.

“Further down, Casanova,” Tony ordered, but he couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice.

Bucky blinked, trying to remember he was looking for a reason beyond ‘yes, Tony is attractive, and I get to look.’ He dropped his eyes further, trying to see what Tony wanted him to. And there, wrapped around Tony’s knees, were a pair of lightly scuffed, white knee pads. “Oh.” He looked up at Tony with a huff of affront. “Those weren’t in the trunk.”

“They need to be cleaned more often, so I just do them all at once,” Tony answered with a shrug. “You know I have like. Three pairs in the workshop, too. So doing them all together is just easier.”

Bucky blinked again. “I did not know you had three pairs of knee pads in the workshop.”

Tony stared at him for a moment, mouth dropping open. Nothing came out for several seconds, though, and that was all the warning Bucky got before Tony turned and grabbed up a spare shirt between his gloves. Then he started thwapping him with it with more force than he would have thought possible with his hands stuck in his paw mitts. “Of course I have knee pads for the workshop, you idiot! You’re lucky my knees even fucking work after I crawl out from under a car! My knees have been in use longer than you’ve been fucking awake!”

“Okay,” Bucky answered, hands flying up to block the fabric’s dull ‘thwap’s. “Okay! I get it.”

Tony smacked him one last time, just for good measure, scowling. “I should take back the pair I bought for you.”

“You should,” Bucky agreed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry that I forget your joints are old. Is that what you want to hear?”

“…You could grovel a bit,” Tony decided, allowing Bucky to take the shirt from between his mitts.

Bucky hooked his hand behind Tony’s neck and dragged him in, pressing his lips into his throat through the hood’s mouth so he could feel his pulse kick up rabbit-fast against them. “What if I rub your feet when we’re done instead? I don’t really want to grovel in a dog get-up.”

Tony hummed, reluctantly pulling himself away so he could give Bucky a long once-over. “It would be weird,” he agreed petulantly. “Even for me. But! I want a half an hour on each foot.”

“Sure,” Bucky replied, amused. He took a moment to stretch his shoulders, first one side and then the other, just to watch the way Tony’s eyes lingered on them, before he reached out to grab the knee pads that Tony had kindly purchased for him. “Well. I suppose I’ll meet you out in the living room.”

Tony gave him a long, slow blink, then nodded in agreement, turning to leave the closet so he could go… prepare? Bucky still wasn’t really sure he understood what Tony meant about getting into ‘the right head space.’ “Don’t forget to test the knee pads out to make sure they’re on right,” he added over his shoulder. “It sucks when you’re halfway through a fuck and you realize your knee pad’s coming off and your knee is starting to hurt.”

“Huh!?” Bucky barked after him, because it sounded like Tony was speaking from experience and as it turned out, he really wanted to know what that experience was, but Tony swanned out without another word before he could corner him about it.

[piosplayhouse]

I forgot if I ever posted about this publicly or privately but fully inspired by Harry's mdzs au my opinions on a svsss furry au will always be that

-Shen Yuan is vehemently "not a furry but just likes supporting artists" who was pretty active in closed species circles for having a ridiculous amount of super expensive rare species that he found really cool. Shen Jiu (no relation) is a very controversial popufur who runs in adjacent circles that sy has a huge grudge against after seeing sj bully a bunch of teen furries (binghe) for their half angle half devile wolf ocs, but even sy has to admit that sj's fursona Shen Qingqiu is really really cool. Sj eventually decides to cut ties with the whole community after getting into another new discourse and sells all of his accounts and fursona art to a broker, who then sells it to sy. Sy logs into the account and is about to reveal what happened, but Yue Qingyuan sends him a super long vent/crying dm and sy feels too guilty and awkward to come clean after getting that bombshell and so he ends up impersonating Shen_Qingqiu in the elite closed DeviantArt group Cang Qiong Mtn Sect group

-Binghe is in the group mostly as a punching bag for everyone to make fun of his half angel half demon oc Xin Mo, but sy recognizes him as the kid he saw sj bully despite being super humble and with great potential for art, so he decides to take him under his wing (I think I was imagining sqq as a dutch angel dragon but whatever you believe here you can replace that with an appropriate body part). Sy ends up buying binghe a super rare Sushidog named Zhen Yang and while sy is like well nbd some artist got a paycheck and some kid got a cute new adopt but as we all know Binghe is Irreparably changed Forever from this

-Airplane is a popular furry porn writer known for taking hyperspecific commissions and flagrantly ignoring closed species rules in his smut peddling. Sy hates him for this of course and also because his porn isn't that good, but he still reads all of Airplane's gay original werewolf species porn just because wolves are really cool ok!! Sy isn't even gay he just thinks it's so cool how the three headed demon wolf has a three tiered society and--. Airplane loves to fuck with sy by making sock puppet accounts advertising shoddy bootleg closed species like deltagens instead of primagens or something like that. Also btw airplane has a hamster fursuit but only the head and paws since he can't afford a full one, he just poodles at cons

- Mobei Jun is not a furry but his family owns a hotel chain that regularly hosts furcons. During one of these he was sent by his father to shadow staff addressing a misbehavior complaint against the furcon attendees and accidentally ran into half-fursuited airplane, during which it was somehow love at first sight. Airplane doesn't know that tho he thinks mbj is still mad at him for smoking weed in his hotel room at that con they met at when they were both 17

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Maybe Part VI #7:

"Let's find out how much you want it."

"Let's find out how much you want it." additional tags: playful dom ian, grumpy sub mickey, petnames, foodplay, stripping

Despite their air conditioner crapping out on them at the hottest time of day, Ian is positively buzzing with childish energy. Because of it, maybe. Perhaps the return of sunny, sweaty afternoons is bringing out the silly billy in him, just like old times.

Mickey doesn't have that problem.

Where Mickey has also known a stifling summer childhood, he differs in the way that he's grown very comfortable with their air conditioner now that they've got it. Which means when it's broken, he's got something to say about it. Loudly. He's bitchy and grumbly and Ian wants to mess with him so fucking bad.

So when the impulse flairs to strike, Ian goes for it, sneaking up behind his husband and snatching the popsicle he just took from the freezer right out of his hot little hands.

"The fuck-" Mickey's turning on his heels in a heartbeat, swiping at the air where Ian holds it just out of reach. "Get your own!"

"Both know this is the last one."

"Yeah, and I fuckin' had it, so paws off!" He goes for another attempt, one hand bracing himself against Ian's sweat-damp chest, the other swatting way up over both their heads.

But Ian's got the height advantage - has too many things working for him, the popsicle wrapper crinkling as he holds it out of reach. "How bad do you want it?" he asks, the playful curl of his grin betraying him immediately.

Mickey doesn't have that problem. "It's too hot for this shit, man."

"It's not that hot."

"It's a hundred fuckin' degrees in here."

"Thermostat says 84 - I just checked." Another attempt. Ian slips the prize out of reach just in time. "And since when do you care about a warm house?"

"Since you got my ass trained like a fuckin' air conditioned poodle, bitch. That's when."

Ian's eyebrows lift as he stares down at him. He's willing to spend some extra time on that imagery, he thinks.

Maybe a little later, though. There's a couple things he wants to take care of first - like his sweaty, shirtless husband getting all handsy and rubbin' up on him like this.

With a new dash of spice to his playfulness, Ian takes a step back, interested in how Mickey stays put.

Another then, until he's leaned back against the counter.

"Want it bad, huh..." he teases, enjoying how Mickey's eyes track the popsicle as he lowers it back to a reasonable height. "Let's find out how bad."

In front of him, Mickey has been given space to calm down. To simmer, simply, his hand coming up to rub over his eyes. "Man, I fuckin' told you I'll share the fan after I-"

"Oh," Ian interrupts, his slump backwards casual but decided. "I'm not talkin' about the fan, baby."

It's the tone shift of the century. Playful heat to rival the climbing thermostat. And no, his husband does not miss it.

Mickey lets out a great big sigh, but if he thinks he's hidden away the morbid curiosity lurking in it, he's dead wrong. "Whaddaya want." Simple. Cut and dry.

The corner of Ian's mouth quirks in absolute delight. "Take your shorts off."

The moment that stretches between them is dead silent - not even the hum of the air conditioner to fill it.

Then. "You fuckin' with me right now?"

"You want the popsicle?" Ian counters. And when Mickey makes a dramatic hand gesture that equates to a bitchy obviously, all he does is shrug, his brows bouncing in a clear then you know what to do.

It would be surprising, really, how quickly Mickey folds and starts shoving his shorts down. But there's just something in the air today. "Un-fuckin'-believable..."

Ian watches contently from his place against the counter, enjoying the reveal of those thick, milky thighs. Even when the discarded shorts immediately get tossed at his face.

He snatches them out of the air just in time. Drops them on the counter behind him. Nods down to Mickey's boxers, like it's the easiest thing in the world to say. "Those too."

And oh...that little spark in Mickey's eyes could catch flame and spread in a bunch of different directions right now. Ian can't wait to see which one.

"Better hurry, baby. It's melting."

Soon it'll be a juicy, drippy mess.

And so will the popsicle.

The huff that comes out of Mickey is supposed to be pointed - he just knows it is, because he knows his man. But even with all this room between them, there's nowhere to hide the rush in it - the annoyed horniness - especially as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and then pushes them down to his knees, revealing what didn't even need to be said.

Ian grins to himself, tilting his head in amusement as he watches Mickey's cock hang heavily between his legs, before standing at attention right along with him.

Gorgeous.

"You happy now?" he asks Ian, standing naked and hard in the middle of their kitchen.

And oh! What an understatement.

Ian brings the end of the wrapper between his fingers but doesn't look away from Mickey - doesn't move a single muscle more than what he needs to pull the popsicle free.

It's definitely melting - sticky red juice dripping down the thawing sides of it.

Damn.

"On your knees."

Mickey blinks. Flicks his eyes from the popsicle back up to Ian and his order. The spark has definitely caught.

And Christ, does he look beautiful as he does it, his skin flushed and sweaty as he gives in one more time and kneels right on the kitchen floor for him.

Ian hums, the urge to play with him finally too much to handle. Not when he looks like this. Not when those eyes stay on him as he approaches, just a step away now, and then says it. "Lemme see that tongue."

Because this isn't about the popsicle anymore, is it? It stopped being about the popsicle a while ago. The evidence of that is right in front of him, the wildfire in Mickey's eyes spreading downward as he blinks up and Ian, and then silently sticks his tongue out flat for him.

Just as he was asked to.

Ian takes a second to appreciate the sight, a nasty thrill jumping through him and between his legs. "Mhm... Definitely want somethin', don'tchya sweetheart?"

And really, he's waiting very patiently. Has done almost a complete attitudinal 180. So Ian is happy to reward him, holding the popsicle upside down by the stick and hovering it over Mickey's open mouth.

Slowly, the melted juice drips down the sides of it. Pools at the tip for a moment. Gathers, sugar and anticipation clinging. And then finally, it drips right onto Mickey's tongue in a sweet, chilly splash.

Mickey stays very still for it, only shifting a bit to save his knees. Ian will get him up off the floor soon. But for now he's having too much fun watching that tongue curl up - flick over the tip of the upside-down popsicle.

Ian's dick jumps in his shorts - the power of suggestion. "That taste good, baby?" It's got to with the way Mickey tilts his head up closer, wrapping his lips around the tip to suck at it without a word.

Yeah. This is definitely not about the popsicle anymore.

Ian grins, slowly twisting it...pushing just a little bit more into Mickey's mouth...pulling it away and loving how he follows after it, his lips cherry-red and probably oh so sweet as they try to stay connected.

He brings the popsicle all the way into himself, holding it right at lap level, dripping and begging for another lick. And yeah, it's 84 degrees in here, but god damn does it feel like it's about a hundred when Mickey knees forward and then wraps his hands around the backs of Ian's thighs - wraps his lips around the popsicle - bobs his head forward with a nasty slurp as he swallows the whole thing down.

"Holy fuck..." Ian smiles, practically giddy. He swears this wasn't what he was aiming for at the start, but he's more than happy to see it through, all the concentrated action getting him good and hard behind where he holds the stick.

Mickey must know what it's doing to him. Must be making these nasty, wet slurping noises as payback, his eyes never looking away from him as he pulls off and licks his tongue flat up the underside of the popsicle.

Jesus Christ, this is so hot. Ian can't help but play along - joins in and runs the juicy red tip all along his chilled tongue. "So fuckin' sloppy..." It's too much. He's too hard. He's way too into this, what started off as just a bit of fun now spiralled into something nasty and playful and- "C'mere," he gives in, pulling the popsicle away and helping Mickey to his feet so he can get in real close - immediately lick over his cherry-sweet lips and right into his mouth.

Micky groans. Melts. Is so pliant in Ian's arms and letting him do fucking anything, his breath hot as Ian sucks on his perfectly chilled tongue.

Ian won't remember setting the popsicle down. But when they come out of the bedroom later, it'll be nothing more than a sticky red puddle on the counter, dangerously close to Mickey's shorts.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

[babystrcandy]

you’re just in time | myg

summary: While leaving your studio during a thunderstorm, you find a small dog that you just can't turn away. One problem: Yoongi seems to hate the idea.

pairing: matilda!yoongi x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | brother’s best friend au, established relationship, fluff, and smut word count: 8.2K warnings/notes: this can be read as a standalone, but it goes along after the events of matilda, they’re sickeningly in love, don’t listen to yoongi he has a soft spot for dogs, reader is such a cutie, yoongi being yoongi, handjob, sloppy toppy for yoongi, what can i say, yoongi always wants to fuck you, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, riding, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, yoongi and...his glasses (is this a kink? i think so), degradation kink (slut mentions), so much fluff and filth, ring the wedding bells, when are they walking down the aisle?, i think that’s it but if i missed anything pls let me know, hope you enjoy <3

drabble #1: you’re just in time ( ← previous )  

WHEN YOU LEFT YOUR studio that afternoon, frantically running through the rain, you were not expecting to hear a desperate whine coming from behind the building. You really weren’t expecting that whine to be coming from a stray dog, huddled by the garbage cans, shaking from the cold rain pelting its brown fur. And you really, really weren’t expecting to rescue said dog from the clutches of the thunderstorm, taking it home with you all the while wondering what Yoongi would think.

But how could you say no to those puppy eyes?

The little brown dog—possibly a type of poodle—had looked up at you with such desperation, such awe that you couldn’t turn it away. It’d even touched a paw to your knee when you’d kneeled down to run a hand through its matted fur. You weren’t sure how long it’d been on the streets, but you weren’t going to let that go on for another day.

And sure, you could take the little thing to a shelter . . . but you’d always had a soft spot for small creatures. Besides, finding it right outside your studio felt like a little more than a coincidence, and Yoongi had always said that everything happened for a reason . . . so . . .

Except when you returned to your still newly renovated house, carrying the dog in your arms, you were immediately met with your fiancé staring at you in shock, headset around his neck and hair wildly disheveled. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as his eyes flicked from your beaming face to the little dog shaking in your arms.

“What’s that?” he asked, squinting at you.

You shot him a hesitant, toothy grin. “A dog.”

“I see that.” He stood to his feet, abandoning the headset near his equipment. “What’s it doing in our house?”

You glanced down at the dog, kissing its head. “The little guy was cold . . .”

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “So you brought it in here?” he asked, slight annoyance in his voice but nevertheless he grabbed a blanket from the couch and handed it to you.

Sheepishly, you took the blanket from him and wrapped the dog inside. You rubbed your hand up and down its shaking body, trying to warm the poor thing the best you could. Glancing back up, you caught Yoongi staring at you through tired eyes. You took a step forward, showing the dog’s sleepy face to him.

Yoongi sighed. “I know what you’re thinking,” he began, gently scratching the dog’s head. “But . . . we can’t keep ‘em. We’re both too busy.”

You pouted. “But look at this face.”

With his hands now on his hips, bottom lip tucked under his teeth in thought, he glanced from your face to the dog’s. You knew Yoongi had never been a fan of having a pet around. He’d always been too preoccupied, too busy to even take care of himself so a pet seemed a little out there for him. But as he looked at the tiny dog, you swore you saw his eyes soften.

“He’s cute,” he mused.

“Him?”

“That’s a boy dog.”

“How do you know?”

He sighed through his nose. “We can’t keep him,” he reiterated. “We wouldn’t have the time to take care of him. As it is, we only really see each other at night. Who would walk him?”

You shrugged, feeling adamant. “I’d make time.”

He raised a brow. “He can stay here until we find a place to take him. Hell, maybe Hari and Taehyung would be down for another dog. God knows Yeontan wouldn’t mind the company.”

“But he chose me,” you huffed, glancing down at the dog once again. His wide brown eyes stared back up at you, practically pouting. “I found him outside the studio. I’m, like, his mom now. And you'll love him. Mark my words. You will."

“His mo—what?” Yoongi remarked, sighing once again as he brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He dropped his hand a second later and rested it on your shoulder, squeezing. “Baby, I love you and that pout is awfully cute on you, but it’s not enough to change my mind. We can’t keep him. You know that.”

With that, he kissed your cheek before he began to walk toward the kitchen. You glanced down at the dog, finding him already staring up at you. Knowingly, you nodded, then stalked off toward the kitchen, standing in the threshold.

“Well . . . what do we call him in the meantime?” you questioned, still pouting.

“Dog,” Yoongi hummed as he put the kettle on.

You rolled your eyes. “Dog?”

He nodded. “Dog.”

“You’re no fun,” you huffed before you took a step into the kitchen, approaching the fridge in order to find anything you could use to feed the little creature.

As you looked, you glanced down once again, finding the dog had ceased shaking and was now snuggled up against you, its eyes closed. A smile lifted onto your face as you kissed his head once again. “Don’t worry. I’ll convince him, little one,” you cooed into its fur.

“What was that?” Yoongi called from behind you.

You clicked your tongue. “Nothing, Scrooge.”

Yoongi laughed under his breath as a response. And you could just see him shaking his head at you, that damned gummy grin on his face.

In retaliation, you flipped him off.

He only laughed harder.

In the following weeks, amidst preparing for your wedding—meeting with planners and picking out certain venues and such . . . blah, blah, blah, the usual—Dog (you had got to pick a better name for the little guy) had become ever-present. You did, in fact, find out he was a he once you’d taken him to the animal hospital for a check-up and a few shots. Then, you’d taken to buying him as many toys and necessities as you could possibly find, knowing full well you were spoiling him.

And Yoongi watched it all, arms crossed over his chest with a bored expression on his face. That only ever amused you further.

The first week Dog became a part of your usual schedule, you oftentimes took him for as many walks as his little heart could take. You’d even dragged Yoongi along for a couple of them, and he didn’t complain (not more than once, at least).

It went beyond that, too. Dog had even taken to sitting on the couch with you during movie nights. He’d even ended up sleeping at the edge of your bed, sticking to your side over Yoongi’s at night.

You’d loved the little guy since the first time you saw him. You knew that. The weeks you’d spent taking care of him only confirmed this. And Yoongi only complained when you’d brag about just how much the dog adored you. You’d even taught him a few tricks, begging Yoongi to come to take a look at what you’d taught the little guy every so often.

You’re just in time, you’d say, tugging him in the door when he’d return home from hours at his studio. Dog can fetch!

Yatta, yatta, yatta, you’d end up showing your fiancé just how smart Dog was, and every time Yoongi would hum, but remind you that he couldn’t stay forever.

But you always caught the lingering look of adoration cross his face when Dog would whine at him, tilting his head to the side as he put on a show for him.

That was why you kept going. Because, well, one: Dog was yours, end of discussion. There had been a reason you found him outside your studio and you were determined to make it work. And two: Yoongi secretly liked the little guy; he was just too proud to admit it.

So you’d keep trying.

And Yoongi would let you, because he wanted you to.

Deep down, you both knew that.

Nights with Yoongi were always pleasant. The two of you would be knackered from your days, finding relaxation in each other, staying up, and talking about your upcoming wedding. Oftentimes, Yoongi would come home to you showering, knock, then ask if he could join, and you'd end up showering together, losing yourselves in each other’s touch.

Most of the time, the innocent touches would turn into Yoongi pressing his lips against your neck, which would lead to you brushing your ass against him only to find he was already half-hard. The rest would be carnal and sloppy, either with him pushing you up against the wall and fucking you from the back or hooking your legs around his hips and pleasuring you while whispering how much he loved you against your puffy lips.

However, that night, you’d finished before he’d gotten home, dressing yourself in one of your favorite band tees of his paired with an old pair of underwear before you slid into your bed and began scrolling through your phone. No matter what, though, you’d always wait for him to return home and vice versa. The two of you wouldn’t fall asleep unless the other was laying beside.

Dog had kept you company, though. He’d stayed loyal and laid at the edge of your bed, tail wagging as he softly snored.

(You knew Yoongi liked the little guy. He was just too proud to say anything.)

And just when you felt your eyes begin to droop from exhaustion, you felt someone kiss your forehead, making you stir as your eyes opened to find Yoongi looking down at you with a soft smile on his face. You smiled back, stretching slightly.

“Hi, baby,” you hummed, reaching for his hand as you brought it to your lips and kissed his palm.

He cupped your face, thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek. “You should’ve gone to sleep,” he said in a hushed tone.

You shook your head, smile still on your face. “Not without you.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Stubborn woman.”

“And?”

“And I love you.”

“Even if I’m stubborn?”

“Especially because you’re stubborn,” he corrected before he shifted onto the bed, sliding under the covers.

You propped yourself up onto your elbows. “No shower?”

“Already did.”

Scrunching your brows, you blinked and looked over his attire only to find he was, in fact, washed, his dark hair still slightly damp from the water. He wore an old oversized tee most likely paired with boxers but you couldn’t tell due to the bed sheets covering his lower half. Prescription glasses rested on his face as he clutched a book in his hand, and you found your once sleep-ridden mind slowly awakening the more you took in his appearance.

Yoongi always had been unfairly handsome. Especially right now as he mumbled something about staying up for a little longer just to read a few chapters. Only, you hadn’t really heard what he was saying, too busy focusing on how he tucked an arm behind his head while he opened the book and began to read from where he left off last.

You found yourself not being able to look away, peeking at him every so often when you’d glance away from your phone. There wasn’t anything interesting on there anyway. The only thing that seemed interesting to you right now was Yoongi, himself.

Maybe it was something about his glasses. Or maybe it was the way his arm looked tucked behind his head. Sure, he had never been the muscular type, but he’d recently been going along with Jungkook to the gym and you could definitely tell.

Either way, it didn’t matter, heat had already begun to pool in your lower stomach as you took him in. He stayed completely oblivious, smiling slightly at something he’d read every so often. And you found it almost ridiculous how just his smile had a way of turning you on.

“Listen to this—“ he began, snapping you out of your daze and slightly startling you as you jumped in your spot— “'The premise of the Taker story is 'the world belongs to man’. The premise of the Leaver story is 'man belongs to the world'.'” He shook his head. “Fascinating.”

You blinked, utterly confused.

He turned to you, adjusting his glasses on his face as he took in your expression. Then, he seemed to catch onto the fact that you honestly had no idea what he was talking about, and his eyes widened slightly as a sheepish smile lifted onto his face.

“You’ll have to read this,” he mused, still sheepish. “I think you’ll like it. Honestly .”

The corners of your lips lifted. “Will I?”

“I wouldn’t—“

Before Yoongi could finish his sentence, Dog whined, raising to his feet as he yapped only once at the two of you as if to tell you to keep quiet. He continued his small tantrum, jumping off the bed and trotting toward the new bed you’d bought him over the weekend.

You couldn’t help but smile. The love you had for that little dog was indescribable.

And . . .

. . . He really had been taking after Yoongi more—being grumpy when woken up but energetic at the most random times. You’d teased your fiancé about it numerous amounts of times, claiming that just meant the dog had to stay with the two of you indefinitely.

However, before you could shoot that same remark Yoongi’s way, he beat you to it. “See, even the dog agrees with me.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He tsked and flicked your nose. “Always with the remarks.”

“Read your book, Yoon.”

“So rude,” he scoffed, but the smile on his face remained as he went back to reading the book in his hand.

Growing annoyed and wanting his attention, you poked his cheek. “Yoon—“

But Yoongi cut you off by pressing a finger to his lips, not even taking his eyes off the page he was on. “Not another word,” he hummed, practically taunting you. “You heard Dog. Don’t bother Yoongi when he’s reading, he said.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, is that what he said?”

Yoongi only hummed, still reading.

An idea hit you then.

Stifling your grin, you discarded your phone somewhere on the bed before you scooted closer to him. In an instant, you’d peeled back the covers and situated yourself between his legs, hands on either of his thighs.

Yoongi stilled beneath you. “What are you doing?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he trained his eyes on the book, but you caught onto the slight breathiness of his tone.

“You said to keep quiet,” you simply hummed as you lowered yourself, simultaneously raising his shirt, until your lips were grazing his clenched abdomen. “I promise not to interrupt your reading.” You pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the skin just above his belly button. “So don’t mind me.” Another kiss, but lower, just below his belly button.

Yoongi stayed silent but squeezed his thighs against you, caging you in—a clear sign he wanted you to keep going.

Still, as you pressed another kiss against his skin, now reaching his pelvic region, you asked, “This OK, baby?”

“Yes,” Yoongi grunted out, and you caught sight of his fingers flexing against the spine of the book.

Grinning, you licked a wet strip along his pelvic region, just barely above the waistband of his boxers. As you pressed another open-mouthed kiss to his hip bone, you brought your hand down to cup his cock, finding him already half-hard. Instantly, you heard him inhale sharply, which only encouraged you more as you began to palm him through his boxers.

As you worked your hand against him, you felt his length quickly harden the more you palmed him. When you brushed against the tip of his cock, he twitched under your touch, causing the warmth in your lower stomach to spread. A pleasant ache pulsed in your core as the warmth spread until you were squeezing your legs together in an attempt to relieve yourself.

But it only grew.

And you found it hard to keep teasing him. But only when you felt him twitch once more, catching sight of his fingers digging into the spine of his book, did you finally grow tired of the simple touches.

Hooking your fingers around the hem of his boxers, you tugged them down, and hastily grabbed his hardened cock. He released a low groan, jerking against you.

“What was that?” you managed to tease, but your eyes were entirely trained on the slightly reddened tip of his length.

“Nothing,” Yoongi rasped, and you swiped your thumb over the slit of his cock, spreading the bead of precum there, only making him groan once again. When he spoke again, his voice was deeper, lower. “This book is just really insightful.”

“Really?” you hummed. “How so?” You glanced up, finding the image before you to be more than amusing.

Yoongi had both his hands on the book now, clutching onto it for dear life as you slowly guided your hand up and down his cock. You didn’t apply as much pressure as you normally did, until you stopped, gathering enough spit in your mouth before you let it drip onto the head. Using your hand, you spread it down his length, and he nearly whimpered.

“Fuck, yeah, make it messy,” he breathed out, hoarsely.

“Oh? Is that part of the book?” you mused, teasing him further as you let another string of spit wet his cock, spreading it with your hand until the glide was slick enough to pick up your pace.

Yoongi only swallowed hard, the action so loud you were able to hear it. It only amused you more as you watched him tear his glasses off his face and sling an arm over his eyes while you stroked him. Your glides were long and firm, going from base to tip, watching as he slowly came undone before your very eyes. When his breathing became uneasy, you focused on the head of his length, jerking your hand quickly, thumb firmly stroking against just the right spot.

And just when you were sure he was about to come undone under your touch, you slid your hand off, immediately replacing the pressure with your mouth. You swallowed him down, humming as you hollowed your cheeks, flattened your tongue, and bobbed your head, mouth sliding up and down his length.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi gritted out, practically whining as he lifted his hips up to meet your mouth. “You’re so fucking good to me. So fucking—“ His words died on his tongue as he threw his head back, rolling his hips while his cock throbbed in your mouth. He was so close and you were determined to make him unravel.

You gave a hum of approval, the vibrations causing him to emit a soft groan. But the groan barely left his lips before you sunk down as far as you could, the tip of him hitting the back of your throat briefly. And you didn’t stop there. You continued to take him deep, breathing through your nose as you tried not to gag while the head of his cock hit the back of your throat again and again, until he was nearly gasping for breath below you.

Chasing the feeling of your touch unraveling him, you reached your hand out to massage his balls, coaxing a low moan from the back of his throat. That was when he lost it.

“Oh, fuck the book,” Yoongi nearly shouted as he tossed the book, not caring where it landed before he reached for you, pulling you off his cock with a loud popping noise. “C’mere.”

With his hand still in your hair, he pushed himself up and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him before his lips were on yours. The kiss was carnal—biting and sucking at your lips as you moaned into his mouth, quickly melting into him.

You climbed over his lap, sitting down with his cock resting against your stomach. “I thought you wanted to read your book,” you breathed against his mouth.

“I don’t give a fuck about the book,” he huffed, one of his hands now at the back of your head, keeping you secure. “I need to fuck you. Got that? I need to be inside you. Need to feel you. Need you. Fucking need you. Just you.”

The ache between your legs was unbearable now. “Wanna ride you, Yoon,” you practically mewled, pushing his chest.

Following your command, he laid back down, grip still tight on you. “Fucking hell,” he cursed under his breath. “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

“I could say the same.”

A soft smile lifted onto his face and then his hands were reaching for the hem of your tee, tearing it off your body in an instant, revealing your bare breasts to him. He gripped your arm, tugging you down as he lifted his head, quickly leaving open-mouthed kisses against your skin.

He softly hummed against your skin as he kissed your nipple just moments before taking it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud and sucking. His other hand worked down your body, wasting no time as he harshly tugged at the material of your underwear, pulling it down your legs with your help. His shirt followed shortly after, leaving you both bare.

Your clothes were discarded in a pile on the floor, but you didn’t care; your focus was on his mouth as you lost yourself in his touch, inhaling sharply when he lightly bit down on your nipple before lapping at it to soothe the ache.

All the while, you hadn’t even noticed his other hand slipping between your legs until you felt two of his fingers plunge into your core, pumping at a steady pace. Soft moans sounded from the back of your throat and you faltered, arching into him and meeting his fingers as you rubbed your clit against the palm of his hand.

“How are you this wet?” he marveled, sucking bruises into your skin.

“Your glasses,” you rushed out without thinking, too busy losing yourself in him as you rutted against his hand.

He grazed your nipple with his teeth, laughing under his breath. “My glasses?”

“Shut up.”

“No, no, this is just news,” he mused. “I’ll wear them more often.”

“I—“

But your words died on your tongue as he curled his fingers in a come hither motion, working against your g-spot at a relentless pace. And just when you thought you couldn’t feel any more pleasure, he placed his other hand on your lower stomach, pressing down to create just enough pressure that you were sure you could feel his every move against your tight, plush walls.

That only spurred you on more as your hands clamped down on his shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin in an attempt to stabilize yourself. But it was no use. Your limbs felt like liquid, your eyes squeezed shut as your mouth hung open, soft moans sounding from the back of your throat. You were sure drool had even begun to trail down your chin, but the warm pleasure twisting in your lower stomach was too intense for you to care.

One more roll of your hips, his palm rubbing against your clit in just the right way, and you knew you were close. You inhaled sharply at the tightening in your lower stomach. “Yoongi,” you practically cried out. “I’m close.”

He hummed as his mouth hollowed around your nipple before he released the abused bud with a pop. “Cum, baby,” he whispered before firmly flicking his tongue over your nipple again and again while his pumps became more intense.

Losing yourself in the feeling, you chased the coil, shamelessly rutting against his hand to bring yourself closer. And then you felt the coil tighten more and more, causing you to cry out as your fingernails dug into his flesh. You felt him press down harder on your lower stomach, and then you lost it—the coil snapped, your release sprinkling out of you and down his hand.

He continued to help you ride out your high, allowing you to slump against him while the ringing in your ears fizzled out and you came back to reality. His fingers slid out of you, causing you to hiss at the feeling while he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your skin, trailing down your stomach, across your tits, all the way up your neck.

“You’re always so good for me,” he hummed against your skin. “Still can’t believe you’re turned on by my glasses, though. Weird ass.”

You groaned, lightly biting his shoulder.

“And a biter.”

“You’re the one with an oral fixation,” you huffed before you kissed where you’d bitten him. “What would Freud say?”

“I think he’d encourage me to fuck my fiancée properly,” he mused, grinning up at you through lidded eyes.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, brushing the dark waves out of his sweat-glistening face. “Mmm, not sure about that one, bud,” you hummed as you dipped down to connect your lips.

“Bud?”

“Mhm.”

“Friends don’t fuck.”

“Well . . . “

His hands lazily brushed up and down your bare skin, squeezing your hips. “Fuck Freud. You know what I think?”

“Hmm?”

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I think you should ride me like the dirty slut I know you can be.”

You couldn’t stop yourself, a soft whine tumbled from your tongue at the name. (Not to mention the warmth already beginning to pool in your lower stomach once again.)

“You like that?” he mused, grinning against your ear.

You nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes, you dick.”

“Oh-ho, so you have your own names, do you?”

Rolling your eyes, you grew impatient. “Yoongi,” you muttered with a click of your tongue.

“Hmm?”

You dipped your face to his neck, kissing his sweet spot that you’d grown accustomed to. “Wanna feel you,” you hummed against his skin. “Want you inside me.”

With a strained groan, he shifted below you, grabbing the base of his cock. You had all of two seconds to process the motion as he slapped the head of his length against your clit, making you shiver at the contact.

“C’mere,” he muttered, tapping your thigh.

You followed his lead, shifting above him so the head of his cock was lined up with your entrance. With anticipation and lust consuming you, you sunk down, his length parting your walls as you took him inch by inch. You inhaled sharply at the feeling, glancing down at him to see his eyes were trained on your face, watching you with adoration.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch into a smile at the look he’d given you, maintaining eye contact with him as you sunk down, taking him to the hilt. You were sure you’d never get used to this—the feeling of him thick inside of you, filling you to the brim. The pleasurable ache would always be something you’d found yourself marveling at, being surprised every time you realized his cock fit perfectly inside of you. From the look on his face, you knew he felt the same.

That exact discovery gave you the confidence you’d been searching for. You shifted on top of him, growing accustomed to the feel of him again as you straightened your back, hands on his chest just above where his heart lay inside. Then, you began to move, lifting up on your feet to give you enough leverage to lower yourself up and down the length of his cock.

“Yeah, like that,” he groaned, slack-jawed as he tilted his head back into the pillows. “So fucking good.”

His hands were on your thighs now, squeezing and pinching as you rolled into him, riding him. While your movements were slow, you’d made sure to make them long and hard, clenching your walls around his length every so often. Perhaps you got off on getting him off, and you knew this to be true, especially while you gazed down at him, taking in his pinched brows and lidded eyes. He just looked so handsome, and you found yourself becoming hypnotized by him.

Tucking your bottom lip under the grasp of your teeth, you decided to give him—and yourself—a little more. You trailed one of your hands down his abdomen, making sure he followed your movements with his eyes as you touched a finger to your clit. A soft moan came from his lips, not yours as you pressed down, beginning to rub small, firm circles against the abused nub while you slid up and down his length.

“That feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

You nodded, picking up your pace as you brushed against just the right spot. Tilting your head back, you relished in the feeling, losing yourself in it. And as you lost yourself, your movements quickened, and you rutted against him, riding him faster. The feeling of his cock plunging into you at a faster rate mixed with his quickening breaths only carried out your pleasure, and you began to chase it.

Beneath you, you felt Yoongi try to meet your thrusts, but you put a hand on his chest, halting him. You wanted to make him feel good.

“Sit still, Yoon,” you ordered, sinking down on him at a faster rate while your fingers worked hard against your clit. “Let me ride you. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

A strangled laugh was choked out of Yoongi. “Look pretty, you—”

You clenched around his cock, taking him deeper, and in doing so, cutting him off as he threw his head back against the pillows, eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat. Hell, you were sure he even whimpered below you, and you thrived off it.

“Gonna show me what a slut you are?” he suddenly gasped out, and you couldn’t help but clench around him again. “You my little slut, angel? Huh?”

You nodded, your movements becoming relentless as you desperately tried to bring you and him to the edge. Yours was close, still feeling the effects from earlier, and you could tell his was too just by the sound of his voice.

“Words,” he grunted out.

“Yes,” you rasped. “I’m your slut, Yoongi. Just yours.”

“Mmm, fuck. ”

And just the sound of his voice, edged you closer. You lost yourself completely in the feeling, picking up your pace against your clit as you rutted against him, feeling the coil tighten and tighten. In the heat of it, you pressed your other hand against your lower stomach, mimicking his actions from earlier, only this time you could’ve sworn you could feel his cock hitting your sweet spot again and again, the sensation being just enough to tip you over the edge.

The coil snapped, your release consuming you as you lazily attempted to sink down on his cock to bring him over the edge despite the aches in your legs. But Yoongi helped you out, taking control as his hands gripped your ass, holding you in place while he thrust up into you at a ruthless pace.

The sound of skin slapping on skin never sounded so sweet as evidence of your wet arousal echoed in the air, mixing with his groans. You were shuttering and pulsing around him, squeezing his cock tighter and tighter, until you felt him twitch inside of you followed by low whimpers of his own as he painted your walls white.

He continued to pump into you at a lazy pace now, his breathing slowly returning while you slumped against him, pressing open-mouth kisses on his chest. Once your highs were carried out, he pulled out of you, his cum slipping down your thighs as you whined at the emptiness which filled you. To counter this, his grip on you loosened, his arms wrapping around your waist, and pulling you into him, holding you against his chest as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

A pleasant hum left your lips as you nestled closer to him, the warmth of his body being too delicious not to bask in. And as the two of you laid there, recovering, he whispered into your hair, “Are you OK? That wasn’t too much? The names and shit?”

You smiled at his concern. “I liked it, Yoon,” you hummed, lazily drawing shapes against his chest. “I’m OK, baby, I promise. Are you?”

He kissed your hair. “More than.”

A soft laugh tumbled from your lips, finding yourself amused by his antics. But your amusement didn’t last long as you realized you’d have to tear yourself from his arms; from your bed in order to clean yourself up in the bathroom. You groaned at this, but nevertheless, attempted to tear yourself from his arms, but you never got far enough.

“Where you goin’?” Yoongi huffed, tightening his arms around you as he squeezed your sides.

“Bathroom,” you mumbled, laughing under your breath. “Don’t wanna end up with an infection. Plus, your cum’s literally dripping down my legs.”

Yoongi snorted. “But I like it that way. Messy and shit.” A hint of a grin tilted onto his lips. “Your pussy looks pretty all messy like that.”

“You disgust me.”

“Yeah, right, I know you like it, too.”

And shamelessly? You did.

But still . . . you couldn’t fall asleep like that. So reluctantly, you tore yourself from his arms, muttering how he should do the same, which he begrudgingly agreed to, following you to the bathroom. And with a few protests and groans, you and Yoongi returned back to bed in a few minutes, freshened up with your clothes back on, and now knackered with exhaustion. You, personally, practically ran to the bed, slipping under the covers in no time with a shiver. But Yoongi . . . well . . .

“Did he watch the whole thing?” Yoongi asked, entirely stunned as he stood frozen in the threshold of the bedroom door.

Pinching your brows together, you followed his gaze, finding that Dog was still sleeping in his bed in the corner of the room. It appeared the two of you had gotten so wrapped up in each other you’d forgotten you weren’t the only ones in the room. That . . . well . . . that made you burst out into a fit of laughter, especially when you caught sight of the appalled look on Yoongi’s face.

Yoongi shook his head, eyes still on your dog as he approached the bed. “You brought in a Peeping Tom,” he mused as he climbed under the covers, his cold feet now touching yours.

“Takes after his dad.”

A glare was sent your way. “Ha,” was all he said. "Not my spawn."

You only snorted, smacking his chest. “Goodnight, Yoon,” you hummed as you nestled into the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. But . . . you could still feel Yoongi staring at you, and you definitely felt his cold feet twitch against yours. “I can feel you staring. What is it, buddy?” Your eyes fluttered open, confirming these thoughts.

Yoongi shook his head, but a small smile remained on his face. “Nothing, you’re just beautiful,” he mused as he sent you a wink before he rolled over on his side, nestling into his pillow.

This, you found to be utterly amusing. You see, Yoongi did this thing where he would stare at you until you figured out what he wanted from you. More often than not this was his way of asking for you to touch him—hold his hand, kiss his forehead, or wrap yourself up against him while the two of you slept. He never outright asked for these things, too hesitant to voice his wants for mundane things like these. But you’d always known how to read him, and you knew what he was asking for in that moment.

With a soft smile touching your lips, you pleasantly sighed and scooted closer to him, wrapping your arm around his waist as you swung a leg over his hip and locked him in, securing his back against your chest. He sighed at your touch, his muscles relaxing as soon as he felt you nestle against him. This, you found to be endearing.

Closing your eyes, you buried your face into his back, breathing in his sweet scent of jasmine and a hint of wood. It’d always managed to calm you, as it did now, finding yourself relaxing against him. You smiled, kissing his back as you mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, “Is this what you wanted?”

Yoongi laughed under his breath, the vibrations circling through you. “Mmm, maybe,” he hummed as he rested his arm over the one you’d wrapped around his waist. His fingers were locking with yours a second later, trying to hold as much of you as he could while his thumb grazed over the engagement ring around your ring finger.

Pleased, you rested your cheek against his back, finally allowing yourself to relax completely. But your peace didn’t last long as you felt a certain weight dip the bed, indicating that Dog had jumped up onto the bed and was now making his way toward the two of you. You peered over at the little guy, smiling as you saw the brown tuft of fur try to wedge himself between the two of you.

And when Yoongi refused to budge, you swore the furry animal nearly huffed at the man, instead trotting further up the bed until he reached the pillows. There, he found his resting place, curling up against your heads, making sure to nestle up against both of you.

“Baby, your dog is cramping my style,” Yoongi muttered, but you didn’t miss how he’d reached up to pat the dog briefly before his hand found yours again.

Now . . . Yoongi didn’t want to admit it, but he’d grown fond of the little guy. There was no way you’d be giving him away now. Dog (you’d have to come up with a better name for him, you noted, once again) was a part of your little family, and smack dab in the middle he would stay.

“Jealousy makes you age,” you hummed in response.

Yoongi tsked. “I’m not jealous of a dog.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not.”

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

Yoongi hummed a response back, squeezing your hand.

You smiled, softly. “Goodnight, Dog.”

And you could’ve sworn the dog whined a response back, similar to Yoongi’s. Perhaps the two of them were even more alike than you thought. You nearly laughed at the thought.

The next time you saw Yoongi visibly roll his eyes at Dog, it was a Tuesday. You and Yoongi were sitting on the couch, wrapped up in each other while the two of you watched Matilda for what felt like the billionth time. And yet, neither of you grew tired of the silly little movie. You supposed that was just its charm.

Then, halfway through, you watched Dog trot down the stairs, ears perked up as he rounded his way toward the two of you. And now, this was where it got interesting. You see, normally he’d opt to hop up on your lap, curling into you. That was what the two of you expected the little guy to do, and that was exactly why Yoongi rolled his eyes.

He also didn’t let it pass without mumbling a small, “He’s tryna’ steal my girl, I swear.”

But Dog didn’t do as he normally would.

No, instead, Dog tilted his head to the side, seemingly glancing between you and Yoongi, and then he’d made his choice. One second he was whining at the two of you, then the next he’d hopped up on the couch, stepping over your thighs until he reached Yoongi. And there, he laid down, nestling into Yoongi’s side, a paw drawn over his thigh.

The two of you just stared. Yoongi stared a little longer, and a little more in shock. All the while, Dog seemed to glance up at the two of you, wonderment on his face.

Yoongi blinked at him.

Dog seemed to blink back.

And you lost it.

Slapping a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, you couldn’t help but find this all too amusing. All the while, Yoongi just stared in astonishment, blinking a few times before he glanced over to meet your bemused gaze. At the sight of your face, he quickly stiffened, straightening his back while he cleared his throat, and muttered something about how he’d only let Dog sit there for ten more minutes, and then you just had to take him. You’d agreed, mirth still fueling you.

Except when ten minutes had passed . . . Yoongi didn’t move. Neither did Dog.

Ten more minutes and Yoongi had begun to relax into his seat, resting an arm on his thigh, not quite touching Dog but also not shooing him away. You had to stifle a grin, knowing Yoongi all too well.

Another ten minutes, and out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Yoongi had begun to absentmindedly pat Dog, gently scratching his head and combing through his light brown curls. That time you did smile.

About another ten minutes had passed before you caught sight of Yoongi glancing down at Dog, a soft smile on his face while he poked the dog’s wet nose. Your smile only grew.

Dog had won over Min Yoongi.

To say Dog had won over Min Yoongi would’ve been an understatement. You knew this now. Because, you see, the thing was: your fiancé had begun to act a little differently toward the small animal ever since that day on the couch.

The week after, you caught him coming home with a bag from the pet store. Only then did you discover that he’d gone and bought Dog not one, but three outfits, something that looked like a bib, a new collar, and another leash, as well as a few toys.

You’d only raised a brow at him, to which Yoongi tried to come up with an excuse. It was to make Dog's stay with the two of you more enjoyable, he claimed. (And not because he actually liked having a little dog around.)

The following week after that, you came home from work, tired out of your mind only to stumble upon Yoongi passed out on the couch, headset dangling around his neck, mouth open while he quietly snored. And . . . none other than Dog was sleeping on top of him, snoring slightly as well.

(You didn’t tell Yoongi, but you took a picture of the sight and set it as your lock screen soon after. You couldn't help it. They were perhaps the two most important things in your life.)

The occurrences only doubled . . . no, tripled, from there on out. Just the other day you’d caught Yoongi in the backyard with Dog, teaching him a few tricks that you just knew he’d pulled from a book he’d bought from the pet store. But still, Yoongi wouldn’t admit it to you, adamant that he apparently did not like the dog.

He doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him. There’s mutual respect there, he’d tell you, which you found utterly ridiculous.

(You found it especially ridiculous when night would come and Dog would curl up against Yoongi’s side. He’d simply say it was because it was more comfortable on his side. Bullshit, you always thought.)

And on the next occurrence where you caught Yoongi apparently showing Dog the workings of his equipment, you’d decided you were going to get it out of him. Enough of his stubbornness.

“Yoongi, can you come here, please?” you called from the kitchen as you put down the bags of groceries you’d bought on the kitchen island.

A few seconds later, Yoongi jogged into the kitchen, dressed in sweatpants and an old tee. You allowed yourself to bask in how unfairly handsome he was for only a second before you snapped out of it and shot him a look. Yoongi, however, was too busy looking over the grocery bags.

“Kid, why didn’t you call me?” he asked as he grabbed the last bag from your hands and rested it on the island. “Is there more in the car? I’ll—”

But before he could go on, you put a hand up.

His eyes flicked to your face then, confusion morphing onto his features before what seemed like realization hit him. He made a face then.

“Is this about the hole in the wall?” he asked, hesitantly. “Because I was trying to hang someth—”

“What? There’s a hole in the wall?”

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m putting a pin in that,” you huffed, not wanting to waste any more time. “Yoongi . . . do you like the dog?”

His eyes seemed to widen then, but only slightly as he rested a hand on the counter. He tilted his head to the side in thought, eyes flicking to the ceiling, or rather anywhere that wasn’t your face. And then, he closed his eyes, sighing in defeat.

“Holly’s alright,” he murmured under his breath, his words barely audible.

You raised a brow. “Holly?”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, shifting in his spot. “I may . . . have named him.”

“Mhm.”

A soft groan came from your fiancé as he finally met your gaze, shooting you an awkward smile that you found utterly amusing. And then, you heard the words you’d been searching for for what seemed like months now.

“Fine, I like the dog,” he admitted, begrudgingly.

You smiled, complacently. “You know what I’m looking for, right?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

“Gonna need to hear the words.”

He didn’t answer.

And you went on, teasing him further as giddiness filled you. “I was . . . “

“You were right,” he groaned in annoyance, biting out the words.

“What?” you questioned, cupping a hand over your ear and leaning toward him. “Sorry, couldn't hear you.”

Yoongi lifted his head, unamused eyes finding yours. “You were . . . right.”

“And?”

“We can keep the dog.”

A large, toothy grin lifted onto your face as you stepped toward him and pressed your lips against his. “Thank you, Yoonie,” you hummed against his lips before you backed up and made your way toward the living room, humming under your breath to a simple tune.

You couldn’t help it, you were gloating.

As soon as you reached the living room, a wide smile still on your face, you leaned down to rub Holly’s head, messing with his fluffy ears. He nestled into your touch, and you pleasantly sighed before you sat down beside him, allowing him to cuddle up against your side.

However, as soon as Yoongi trudged into the living room, plopping down right beside you after giving Holly a quick pat, your sweet little dog (who you recused, just by the way) perked up. He was stepping over your lap and nestling into Yoongi’s in an instant. And all you could do was look at Yoongi and scoff.

“Traitor,” you tsked.

Yoongi only seemed to grow more pleased by this. “Man’s best friend, angel,” he hummed as he patted the little dog in his lap. “He knows who his dad is.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Jealousy makes you age,” he told you, repeating to you the very words you’d told him once before.

You pursed your lips, remaining unamused. “You know what else does?” you questioned, waiting for Yoongi’s eyes to find yours before you continued. “Divorce.”

Yoongi gave you this look before covering Holly’s ears. “You’re making him upset,” he all but hissed.

And you couldn’t help it, you burst out laughing, finding the look on his face all too amusing. “You’re such a dork, Min Yoongi,” you remarked, shaking your head as you trailed your eyes across his features. He stared right back at you, features softening, and that was when you felt your mouth speak for you. “I love you . . . dork.”

A soft smile spread across Yoongi’s face, his eyes widening. “Say it again.”

You leaned into him, hooking your arm around his as you buried your face into his shoulder. “I love you,” you mumbled against his shoulder, kissing him there while still keeping eye contact. And you did. You really, really did.

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Mmm, never stop saying that,” he mused before he pressed his lips against your forehead.

Silence followed. It was pleasant; familiar.

“Hey, Yoon?” you questioned after a second of basking in each other’s touch.

“Mmm?”

“What if we got another one?”

Yoongi pulled back . . . and the vexed look he gave you was priceless.

That was all it took before you burst out into another fit of laughter.

“What?” you asked through your laughter. “We could get a girl, right . . . and then name her Matilda. How’s that?”

Yoongi remained the same.

You leaned down to pat Holly’s head. “Holly, tell your dad I’m right.”

“Holly, don’t listen to your mom. She’s crazy.”

“Holly—”

“Yah!”

You couldn’t help it, you only laughed harder.

And through your giddy laughter, eyes crinkled, and cheeks hurting, you could have sworn you caught sight of a wide gummy smile on Yoongi’s face.

[yourbestpalpercy]

Beginning to the fight in the au

Nick: “Woah, pretty cool animatronic, Percy. Hold long did it take you?” *Nick asked, approaching Percy Poodle*

Pal: “Hee~! At least a month..or two! Potentially longer. It has this awful habit of overheating sometimes but I’m working on fixing it! Also, it’s more of a mech suit than an animatronic! I know I won’t be singing to little kiddies with Percy Poodle here!”

Nick: “Why make it a dog then?” *Nick asked next with a small giggle, teasing Pal as he ruffled his hair.*

Pal: “Gah-! Nick, I told you I wasn’t a fan of that, it takes forever to comb into place,” *Pal takes off his head band and begins to brush his hair back into place. He then readjusts his head band before stepping up to Percy Poodle with a proud expression. Pal takes his claws and twists them in the light.* “I made it a dog because I feel like any other animal wouldn’t do. Not to mention the time it would take to make a human or one of those things in the old cartoons! Also. I prefer dogs,” *Pal chuckled, wiping off the claws and making sure they’re shiny.*

Nick: “Hrm…” *Nick notices how sharp the claws were on Percy’s paws along with the potential fire hazard that the fabric ears and tail would be.* “What’s with the sharp claws?”

Pal: “Huh? O-Oh! Uhm..” *Pal looks around for a reason,* “TamaLanki suggested in his own little language that I add them for cutting fruit. I did it just so he wouldn’t bother me about it. Oh! You remember the Tamas, right Nick?” *Pal asked, putting Percy’s arm back into place before inviting Nick over to his desk where 7, small tamagotchis sat.*

Nick: “I..think so but you’ll have to job my memory again, it’s been ages after all.”

Pal: *He picks up the first 4, leaving the other 3 deactivated.* “The other 3 are just more TamaRoachis. He doesn’t like being alone,” *Pal carefully sets the little electronics on the ground before activating each one with a gentle few taps.*

-All 4 wake up with their own little movements. TamaOpti reveals its tendrils and almost immediately threatens Nick with killing him (before Pal put an end to that). TamaLanki spreads out it’s long limbs and death curls Nick’s arm, gently monching his arm before Pal also put a stop to that. TamaBruti has a moment of panic (He doesn’t like new people) before charging into Nick’s leg while trying to hide. TamaRoachi chirps, looking around. It then buzzes before falling back into sleep mode, not today, sorry.*

Nick: *Nick laughs softly, holding each one gently.* “Gosh..I forgot how cute these little…tamagotchis(?) are. I think the Roach and Eyeball one are new though.”

Pal: “I named them TamaRoachi and TamaOpti respectively,” *Pal looked over at the Percy mech before rounding up the tamas and putting them back into Sleep Mode.* “Hey Nick. Could I get your help with something? I built a compartment into the Percy Poodle animatronic for a place to sit when controlling it. Unfortunately…I am really short. ‘Pocket Sized’ as you used to call me,” *Percy teased with a chortle, poking Nick.* “Think you could help me into Percy? Or at least reach the latch?” *Percy places the Tamas into a hatch in the back of the animatronic.*

Nick: *Nick looks over at the Percy animatronic.* “Are you sure you can even get in there?”

Pal: “Not without your help Nick! I lost the ladder!” *Pal smiled and took Nick’s hand before walking over to the mech.* “Come on, it’ll be fine!”

Nick: “I-I mean…” *Nick looks back over at the fabric tail and ears.* “…If you’re sure it’s safe…” *Nick approaches the mech before picking up Pal and lifting him up to the hatch.*

Pal: “Remember how we used to do it? Question, do you still have good balance?” *Pal asked, looking down at him*

Nick: “Oh no. P-Percy, I’m not sure-.”

Pal: *Pal cuts him off.* “According to my calculations of our ages and current weights, I should be able to stand on your shoulders and be able to get into my mech with 0 issues. If you help me of course!” *Pal winks with a smirk.*

Nick: “Ha…you’re not gonna stop suggesting into until I do, huh?”

Pal: “Nope! Minus well help me up now!” *Pal laughed proudly.*

Nick: “You are so needy,” *Nick chuckled before carefully balancing Pal on his shoulders* “You be carefully up there!”

Pal: “I am always careful!” *Pal reaches for the hatch, suddenly grumbling.* “Crap.”

Nick: “Oh no…what’s wrong?” *Nick asked.*

Pal: “Ehehe…I-I added tough to open latches on the opening the avoid anyone else going inside that wasn’t me,” *Pal looked embarrassed, looking back down at Nick.* “These things are gonna be the death of me…” *Pal began to fiddle and mess around with the latches, struggling to open them before the latch swung open, almost tipping Pal and Nick over when it aggressively flipped upward.*

(Side note: I know that the ref for Pal and Percy in my au shows the hatch with a downwards opening but I just bow realized at 3:43 am how impractical that is, so I’m having it open upwards)

Pal: *Pal covered his eyes, quivering before feeling Nick stabilize the two of them.*

Nick: “Percy? Are you alright? That latch opened rather quickly..”

Pal: *Pal gulps, quivering,* “Y-Yeah…I’m fine…” *Pal commands Nick to move forward now so Pal could sit down in his mech.* “…Hey Nick?” *Pal murmured as he climbed into the seat and began to start everything up.*

Nick: “Erm..” *Nick rubs his shoulders and looks up at Pal.* “Yeah?” *Admittedly, the mech looked rather intimidating from Nick’s point of view. Pal deadass built an 8 foot tall mech huh?*

Pal: “I just wanna say..thank you for being my idiotic, best, Pal…” *Pal smiled, his smile growing ominous along with his giggle as the hatch closed. The inside of the mech glowed a toxicating green glow as everything began to boot up in the mech.*

Nick: *Nick knew something was wrong by how Pal laughed like a mad scientist at this. He..never done that. Nick stepped back, getting anxious.*

Pal: *Pal grins, the glass lighting up with a cup minigame along with words and expressions.* “Haha! It worked! This is TRULY HAPPENING! Oh you. are. a. TRUE. FOOL, Nick! Thinking that this was just a normal get together! HA! Of course not..!” *Pal brought Percy’s fist down on Nick.*

Nick: *Nick barely manages to dodge it along with Pal’s swipes and even attempt of stomping him flat.*

Pal: *Pal smirks smugly,* “You’re fast Nick, I’ll give you that! But as all villains have said before. You can’t dodge forever…”

Nick: *Nick bolts out of the room during this explanation, beginning the bossfight.*

[lpsotd]

Hey I'm the anon who found the bucket of old LPS toys! Found it wasn't actually all of them? But here's the ones that were there and imma tell you some fun facts about each grouping!

For the dogs, the one next to the great Dane (I think it's a chocolate lab?) is actually my brother's! The Yorkie with the stick legs was my favorite and the only one of that generation I could stand lol. The purple weiner dog had his back legs chewed off by my actual dog but when my mom went to toss it I lost my little kid mind so hard she never touched it. Also the poodle fairy was my least favorite of my fairies. It was neglected to the point that it's neck is stiff when you go to move it.

I was never really into the birds but the penguin was and still is one of my favorites!

For the cats my brother named the one licking it's paw Spotted Leaf like the warrior cats nerd he was XD my favorite was the tiny pink winking kitten by far though

For the rodents/rodents adjacent my favorites were the beaver and the brown racoon. I made them best friends even though the beaver came with a coon skin hat. Most of them from this group were my friend's. Me and my sister had matching purple lop bunnies because she was mad I got one for my birthday and purple was her color (eye roll) mine was marked with blue on her ear to tell the difference

For the bugs: I had a bee. I remember having and loving said bee. None of these matter to me I want my bee.

Lizards and frogs! My favorite was the orange lizard. I have no idea how that poor frog lost his head but he will undergo a delicate glue reconstruction surgery soon. I despise the big headed chameleon on the end. His tongue pokes out by pressing his crest 10/10 stim but his design makes me irrationally angry 0/10

Aquatics! Me and my sister would make complex trading charts just to get that seahorse. We would value our pets so that we could, in a long series of trades, end up with two pets whose combined worth could ever compare to the seahorse's clear superiority. My mom was impressed at our detailed logs of these trades as much as she was worried that we both wanted it enough to go to these lengths. Somehow she never thought to buy a second one to stop this. I think she feared we would instead try to claim ownership of both instead of sharing, and she would be right.

That little brown bear cub came in a camping set of three. I would have laid my sister to rest if she dared touch them. They were my favorite LPS set ever. A search for the missing cubs is underway.

My sister vandalised my elephant and I want to customize him because that red is not a good look. The cow had a tiny horn headband, she is one of my faves. I got the giraffe when I was in the emergency room for dislocating my floating sternum. Can't look at thing without feeling mildly uncomfortable due to getting it during one of the most painful moments of my life.

I'll send a separate ask with descriptions of my favorites that I couldn't find since this one is...massive 😅 sorry about that

you and your sister were a force to be reckoned with .. thank you for sharing these :o) they r lovely to see and your descriptions for each of them were delightful to read !! i am looking forward to your favorites description :o)

[beardedmrbean]

Bondi, an 8-month-old toy poodle, had just returned from a walk when he began stumbling. His head wobbled and soon he could barely stand, so his owner, Colleen Briggs, rushed him to the vet.

The good doctor quickly made a diagnosis: Bondi was stoned.

On his walk, a sniff must have led Bondi to a discarded joint, which he ate.

"He was just doing his usual — exploring everything, sniffing everything," said Briggs, who began to notice the pot shops sprouting up around New York City, the frequent whiffs of marijuana while circling her Manhattan neighborhood and the unfinished joints now littering sidewalks.

In places like New York City, where the first legal recreational pot dispensary opened last year, users can smoke it in the open. As a result, more dogs are coming across — and eating — discarded joints and edibles, prompting alarm among veterinarians and pet owners who blame the steep rise in poisonings on smokers oblivious to the harm they can do by littering.

Marijuana poisonings, which are almost never fatal, were once rare among pets, even when medical dispensaries started opening, according to Dr. Amy Attas, a New York City veterinarian. Until recently, many occurred at home, when pets got into their owners' stashes.

THOUSANDS OF PETS INGESTING MARIJUANA, ASPCA WARNS

"The reason we’re seeing so many cases is that people are using marijuana on the street and then discarding the unwanted ends of their joints," Attas said. "And that’s a real problem because dogs will eat those."

In the first three months of the year, she had already seen six cases, which is about the same number she's treated over the past three decades. Multiply that by the number of vets working in New York City, she said, and the result underscores the widening problem.

The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals said cases are rising nationwide. Last year, there was an 11% increase from the roughly 6,200 cases reported in 2021, and over the past five years, there has been a 300% increase.

"To me, it is unbelievable how prevalent this now is," said Attas.

Twenty-one states have legalized the recreational use of cannabis, and in large urban areas like New York, there's no escaping the whiff of pot in public.

In many cases, owners are unaware that their dogs have eaten a leftover joint until they begin showing signs of toxicity. Even then, owners might not understand what is ailing their pets.

Sue Scott was in a panic when her 9-month-old fawn pug, Circe, collapsed after a recent walk. Circe's paws splayed out on the floor, her head shook to-and-fro and she drooled.

TREATING YOUR PET FOR MARIJUANA POISONING: VETERINARIAN

"A million things were running through my head," said Scott, 68. Marijuana poisoning was not among them. "I would never had thought that," she said.

Scott made a video call to Dr. Attas, who said Circe was showing all the signs of being high. She now keeps Circe on a shorter leash, mindful of where she pokes her nose.

"I don’t know if you know pugs — they’re constantly on the lookout for their next morsel," said Scott, who has owned four other pugs, none of whom ever returned home stoned. "But sometimes it's pretty tough to control them because they are so fast. They'll just dart at something."

Although dogs rarely die from marijuana poisoning, treatment can be expensive, sometimes requiring a trip to the animal emergency room, a stomach pump and intravenous fluids.

The stress on the patient and its owner is also enormous.

Bondi has been poisoned three times, the first time last fall, said his owner, Briggs.

Even as Briggs grew more vigilant when walking her pup, she acknowledged that she must have gotten distracted when Bondi became sick a second time. That time, she let Bondi ride out his high.

"Walking him ... it's just a really intense situation. So I’m always looking on the ground, and it’s just everywhere now," she said of the spent joints that she and Bondi come across on walks.

"One time," Briggs said, "I caught him and grabbed it out of his mouth."

[redolentgrove]

A Striking Revelation

((Note: the following post has a description of implied threats of familial abuse, divorce, and a somewhat gross description of the "stuffy head-ass" trope. Discretion is advised.))

"Mister and Mrs. Carême, we're here."

The sun was tall in the sky now. It had taken a few careful hours of movement and some brief water breaks, but Loki had arrived at Undella Town's most famous villa. A cart full of flowers trailed behind her, and inside the cart, a Dachsbun and a Furfrou served as passengers. The Dachsbun named Vera looked over at the taur with a slight grunt.

"Ugh, finally. You're lucky you got here just in time for our decorators. We might have enough time to get things set just before the guests arrive."

Vera's voice seethed with dissatisfaction, which, somehow, Loki read as an improvement to the Dachsbun's earlier attitude. The fairy-type looked over at her husband Hugh, who had begun to nod off during the last bit of the journey. She nudged the Furfrou with an elbow, hissing at him to wake up. The startled poodle yipped and bolted awake, looking over at his wife with groggy brown eyes.

"Wh- are we finally here? That ride was so smooth I started falling asleep…" Hugh yawned casually, covering his snout with a paw while gently sliding over toward Vera. "I hardly felt a thing."

"That's because you sleep like a Komala, you overly fuzzy oaf," Vera snapped, moving a few flower bunches around to keep them safe. She then undid the safety latch on the back of the cart, stepping off with a brush of her dress while motioning at the Furfrou to follow her. Hugh did so amicably, though he seemed far less concerned about dust and unsettled clothing when doing so.

"Are you safely out of the cart?" Loki asked, venturing a glance behind herself. She then took a moment to take in the sight of the villa. She remembered a time when it had been owned by members of the region's Elite Four, and even frequented by the Sinnohian champion. It was then formerly owned by some of the most elite battlers of the world, and now it was apparently under the care of the Carême family. One could only imagine how much such a place would have cost when it came available. Then again, the old adage was, 'if you have to ask, you can't afford it.' So Loki didn't bother to ask; she just admired it.

"Quit gawking; you're lucky to even get to see the damn place." Vera's voice snapped the taur out of her stroll down memory lane, and continued to fling barbed words at her. "Honestly, Hugh, can you believe this commoner? She has the look of a pampered housepet who's stepped outside her front lawn for the first time, all over a simple villa…"

"Vera, did you call Martin and Quincy to let them know we were arriving?" Hugh interjected, seemingly catching the incredible negative energy radiating from his wife's words. "I trust you weren't expecting our florist to hand-deliver the flowers to our floral artist…"

"Of course I called them!" the Dachsbun retorted almost immediately, with a deeply indignant huff. "And do you really think I'm letting this common rabble set a single toe inside the villa? Of course not! She's not on the guest list, after all!" Vera glared a dagger at the Furfrou, just as a pair of Granbull anthros arrived to the group, each with a smaller, but still spacious, handcart in tow.

"Miss Vera, these are the forty-five dozen flowers for Mister Charles to arrange, I presume?" the Granbull on the left asked, earning an equally sharp glance from the Dachsbun.

"No, Martin, they're tumbleweeds - of course these are the flowers, you absolute dullard! Now, you and Quincy get these into the villa before Charles loses his mind! I swear, that Stoutland is a mastercraft when it comes to arranging flowers, but he goes absolutely bonkers when he has nothing to do on his plate…"

"Miss Vera, you didn't tell me you picked such a beautiful florist," the Granbull on the right chimed in as he joined his companion in beginning to load the flowers into their respective carts. "She looks like she stepped out of a fairy tale…"

"Aww, thank you so much, dear," Loki replied, blushing slightly at the dog's compliments. "That's really quite flattering of you to say…"

"Shut up, Quincy," Vera snapped. "She looks like she stepped out of some sort of strange science-fiction machine, not a fairy tale! Seriously, it's like someone took a Leafeon, grafted a Gracidea flower onto its side, gave it an anthro body-"

"Vera, that's enough-" Hugh began, before being cut off by his wife.

"Never interrupt me, Hugh! Anyway… it's like they did all that, slapped an anthro body where the head should be, and just for good measure, decided to accent it with purple like it's dying or something! This isn't normal; it's like some Arceus-forsaken experiment to make some sort of exotic housepet like you see with all those strange mixtures of dog Pokemon! This is a bastardised mess! A walking, talking plant, not a Pokemon!"

"You shut your yapper right now before I smack it off of you!"

Everyone's heads whipped to view the owner of the voice that had so suddenly screamed out from behind Vera, though Martin and Quincy still continued loading the last of the flower bouquets into their carts. It was Millie, standing with balled fists and narrowed eyes, growling almost ferally as she stomped up toward her mother.

"Millie, how did you get here so quickly?" Hugh whispered, a query that was very obviously ignored by the younger Dachsbun.

"You are unbelievable," Millie snarled, getting into her mom's face with a sudden, reckless abandon. "That sweet, loving woman dropped everything to get you those flowers at a moment's notice, stood with you to make sure the order was right, brought them all here with zero expectations of a tip or anything extra, and you resort to calling her a housepet?"

"Mille-Feuille Bonaparte Carême, you mind your own business, you little whelp," the elder Dachsbun rasped, clearly taken aback by the younger fairy-dog's actions. The two Granbulls, carts now full, used this opportunity to slowly, awkwardly turn and head toward the villa, running as fast as safely possible once they were out of any potential splash zone, so to speak. "I don't care if you and this… thing's-"

"She is not a thing!" Millie's reaction was swift and immediate, leaving Loki humbly standing there, still attached to her cart. Even if the taur wanted to, she couldn't really get between the two with her lack of mobility to the sides. She could only listen to the youth's outburst helplessly. "Miss Loki has done nothing but be kind to you despite you bad-mouthing and doubting every step she's taken! Can't you just be grateful, for once in your pathetic, overbearing life, that someone else has some sort of grace and humility even when faced with your… your-"

"My what?" Vera's left hand raised threateningly, balling into a fist. "Choose your words very carefully, child, or else-"

The elder Dachsbun's words stopped cold when she felt a hand grab onto her left wrist. She looked back to see Hugh's rage-filled snout staring back at her, eyes locked on his wife's.

"That is more than enough," the Furfrou snarled. "If you so much as lay a finger on our daughter, you'll only wish that you could escape that scenario with death."

Vera let out a loud gulping noise. She weakly began lowering her fist, still quivering with rage, but now, also… fear. Fear that the Furfrou had reached the point where he actually spoke against her. Fear from his words. She could see the fear and anger that had manifested in Millie's face, still bracing for a potential impact that might or might not come. And then suddenly, she realised, Loki was still there, having witnessed everything. This was a disaster, unquestionably.

"Now then." Hugh's voice cut through the silence at long last. The taur steered herself and her cart a bit so she could walk up to the Furfrou. "Vera, I believe you owe this woman something?" he continued, gesturing toward the elder Dachsbun.

Vera stood palely and looked at Loki, with an expression the taur could only read as 'a guilty child who's just been caught doing something wrong.' The Dachsbun murmured quietly to herself, before looking over at the taur with a ghostly expression.

"I… I'm sorry."

Loki could sense a mixture of emotions in the canine's voice and visage. There was certainly some genuine regret, but she could also tell how forced the apology seemed, that there wasn't a full understanding that the fairy-dog was in the wrong. And that she really didn't want to take back those words. But the taur decided to be the bigger 'mon in this scenario, nodding back at Vera politely.

"Thank you. Apologies accepted." She offered a gentle smile, though she stopped short of offering a handshake. Who knows what the Dachsbun could have planned had she tried that. She decided to use this as an easy way to make her exit. "I'm glad I was able to get your flowers here safely. I'll leave you three some time to collect yourselves before your rehearsal dinner. Bijoux is probably wondering where I am by now, so… good-bye."

Loki had started to trot off with her cart, when…

"Wait, Miss Loki!"

The taur stopped. Vera had already left toward the villa, but Hugh and Millie came running up beside Loki's cart, and the Furfrou looked over at the two, one after the other. "I'm… terribly sorry to impose this on you, but, would you mind watching Mille-Feuille for a while? Perhaps until it's time for her to go to Harmonia? If Vera was so willing to raise a fist to strike her, I don't feel safe having her near our daughter. And you seem to have a good rapport with Mille-Feuille, and your daughter does, and I just don't want…"

Loki raised her left hand gently to stop the dog's ramblings. "Of course, Mister Carême. I completely understand."

"Just Hugh will suffice, thank you, Miss Loki."

"Just Loki will suffice, Hugh." She smiled warmly at the Furfrou, then looked over to Millie. "Millie, would you like a ride back to White Forest with me?" She knelt her body down slightly, offering the young Dachsbun a space on her back. "Honestly, I think you'll be more comfortable here than in that cart."

Millie stared at Loki with gleaming eyes. "Wait… you're serious? You'd actually let me ride on your back? But my mom…"

Loki shook her head. "You're not your mom. You've made that more than apparent today. You stood up for me when nobody asked you to, risked her wrath, and even got your father to stand up to her as a bonus. I'd say that deserves a lot better than just being allowed to ride on a centaur's back, but honestly, that's all I can really offer right now. I'll have to get a bed made up; I haven't had a bipedal guest out here in ages, but I'm sure I can make it happen."

Millie gently positioned herself on Loki's back as the taur rose up, the Dachsbun gently wrapping her arms around the hybrid's stomach and sinking gently into her leafy fluff. Her nose became filled with the scents of lavender and the Gracidea flower on the taur's flank, immediately sinking the canine into a state of ease and trust. "But what about you, Dad?" she murmured, looking over at the Furfrou. "I mean, I know I'm safe, but what if she tries to hit you?"

Hugh shook his head softly, leaning in and patting Millie on the forehead, before standing in front of Loki with a grateful smile. "I'm not worried about myself. She can deal with the consequence of potentially losing her daughter forever and pin that entirely on me. She forgets that we have joint ownership of most of the assets, and that if she tries to attack me, I'll probably be able to get a lot more in a divorce settlement."

Loki looked at Hugh, and gently held out her left hand for the Furfrou, who happily took it in a handshake. "You're a smart man, Hugh," the taur remarked. "Was… Vera always like this?"

"Not before she got the inheritance, no…" the Furfrou explained. "She was a lot more humble and loving, but money and status changed her…"

The taur nodded softly. "A sentiment I know all too well. Sadly, she's far from the first or last Pokemon to be wooed by fortunes and social pecking orders. Look, I don't want to linger. I want to get Millie back to White Forest before sundown so I can set up a bed and proper shelter for her… and if you could possibly at some point, Hugh-"

The Furfrou smiled brightly. "Get her belongings? Gladly. I'll bring them by tomorrow morning; she'll have clean clothing, grooming supplies, everything she needs. And, really, Loki, thank you so much again for looking after my dear little girl; and I truly regret that things happened the way they did." The canine took out a checkbook and wrote a check, this one for five million Poke, before handing it to the taur.

"Hugh, really, it's nothing, you don't have to-" She tried to deny the check, but the Furfrou basically slammed it into her hand before wiping his paws clean of the matter.

"I insist. Think of it as a tip from the flower arrangements. Honestly, you definitely underquoted Vera, and with the developments I doubt she's going to be interested in paying for Mille-Feuille's schooling and such, so…"

Loki begrudgingly took the check, stashing it into her saddlebag with a somewhat forced smile. "I'll see that Millie is well cared for, Hugh. Thank you again for… absolutely going far beyond what you ever should have."

Hugh let out a little sigh of grouchiness. "Loki, honestly…"

The taur shook her head softly. "I'm sorry, Hugh. Vera's gone; I don't have to put up that façade of humility anymore. Genuinely, thank you. I wish you weren't Pidgey-holed into this situation, but… I'm glad my initial thoughts about you were right."

Hugh's brow perked. "Initial thoughts?"

Loki nodded. "That Millie clearly got her good manners from you, and that she was able to grow up with at least one parent whose head wasn't so far up their ass that it was basically digesting in their stomach."

Hugh stepped back in shock. "Loki!!! My word…" The Furfrou chuckled mirthfully. "…as much as you're not wrong, still!"

Millie looked up at Loki. "I only wish you had been able to say that to Mom's face…"

Everyone shared a deep-throated laugh at that remark. Once that was done, the Furfrou looked over at Millie one last time, patting her on the head and saying his good-byes.

"Be good for Loki, okay? I'll try to see you when I can, but it's going to be an awkward talk with Katherine as to why you're not at her wedding…"

Millie shook her head. "Honestly? I think everyone will know pretty quickly why I'm not there. Just say Mom's name and I'm pretty sure the collective room will be like 'yeah, okay' and understand. Give her and Stephane my best, though!"

Hugh shrugged his shoulders. "I hope so. And of course, I'll send all your love their way. Good-bye, Mille-Feuille. Good-bye, Loki." With that, Hugh left back toward the villa, leaving just Loki, her cart, and of course, Millie, who gently bounced on the taur's back with excitement.

"Loki, do you think Bijoux is gonna be shocked when I show up with you back at White Forest?" Millie asked, sniffing at Loki's leafy ears with curiosity. "Gosh, you smell nice…"

"If you were able to tell her anything about your parents," Loki began, leaning gently into Millie's nosings, "I think she's going to understand full well why I came back with you in tow. Hold on tightly, okay? I'm gonna try and go a bit faster than I took your parents here…"

And with that, Loki bolted forth, cart in tow, Millie on her back, on the road back to Redolent Grove…

[scooby-dooaccountant]

"Scooby-Doo Where Are You?" (1969)

S1 Ep5. "Decoy For A Dognapper"

Air Date: October 11th 1969

"The gang investigates the disappearance of a prized poodle by using Scooby as a decoy to unveil the thief... until Scooby is also kidnapped."

...I haven't posted in a while, and this episode is why. I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to type out all the white guilt I felt while watching this episode. I was struggling to think of fun silly things to add when I first typed up this draft, But while strongly pawing at my own face, not feeling comfortable with what I had written at all. I finally caved and sat down to write this review correctly.

I will start by saying, this is the most culturally insensitive episode so far - which isn't saying a lot, but we're only on episode 5. For starters, the Name "Geronimo" is used so often it hurts my brain.

For those of you who don't know Geronimo was a prominent leader and medicine man from the Bedonkohe band of the Ndendahe Apache people. From 1850 to 1886, Geronimo joined with members of three other Central Apache bands – the Tchihende, the Tsokanende (called Chiricahua by Americans) and the Nednhi – to carry out numerous raids, as well as fight against Mexican and U.S. military campaigns in the northern Mexico states of Chihuahua and Sonora and in the southwestern American territories of New Mexico and Arizona.

And there is just truly no substance to this episode other than Buck Masters is evil, and yet also somehow a bad villain??? But I will cover that in my villain review.

Usually I take this post to explain what the gang did wrong, or how they actually weren't that helpful after comparison to damage. In this case, I bite my tongue and say they really didn't do anything wrong. No elaborate trap, no ongoing chase scene, no Scooby being Scooby moment, nothing. Daphne does get captured but is short term.

There weren't even finances to break down, no poke at crashing a boat, not even an elaborate trap that cost way too much.

Freddy made a slingshot out of a tree, and they caught him by the dogs chasing him up a tree. This episode sucked, Burt Masters sucks.

There's no happy ending about this episode. The remarks and comments made during this episode were so low I was even shocked to hear them myself. The entire episode is based on horrible indian stereotypes that we as a society have cancelled them. I wish I hadn't watched this, then rewatch this episode while debating in my own head about what to say. But as I'm writing out financial Breakdown for my villain post, I had to Amazon shudders "Indian Costumes" for a price point and I was shocked to STILL see these cultures still being viewed this way today. Unapologetically being shown in this light.

At the end of the day, I can say as a society we were just not there in 1969. We (as a society) had not learned to be upset when we view these kinds of things, in fact this was probably a very 'inclusive' episode at the time and Hannah Barbara really thought they were on to something. Which is unfortunate to see now.

I was never a fan of this episode, maybe because it wasn't really funny, or there were a lot of fluff scenes that didn't make sense. I honestly couldn't tell you why I was never a fan growing up, but (now) I can tell you the reason this episode bugs me is because it's extremely culturally insensitive.

So there, I've done it! I've written out this review and we can now move forward into future episodes and laughs.

I'm sorry if this isn't the normal standard for my reviews, but even small cultural insensitives is not a matter we can overshadow with animation quirks, favorite quotes, and individual character stupidity.

My love for Scooby-Doo carries on, as I know we as a society have made progress and it truly shows in episodes like these - because episodes like these don't exist anymore.

You can watch this Episode of Scooby Doo through Tubi for free! 📺

I love you all, stay safe and educated 💚

You can find the villain post here. 😁

[heart-aflame]

Emmy hated her paws being touched, even just to pet them. I have no idea why, or where that came from, which made it a bit difficult to clip her nails when it was needed.

She was a bit touchy sometimes though, and would yelp if you tried to pick her up in a way that I assume felt wrong to her. She was a medium sized dog, sometimes those get tripped over because they like to follow people around. Everyone always apologized immediately if they stepped on her paws and made her yip though.

... She was half poodle, so her fur grew a lot and made her look so scruffy compared to when freshly shaved. She was adorable either way, but shaving her usually helped keep her from getting too hot, and she had a comfortable sweater if she was cold. She had a stripe of darker fur in the middle of her back. That stripe was actually blacker then usual, when she was last shaved. along with her head and other parts of her body. It was part of the Cushings disease, having worsened.

Usually her hair grows back so fast, but after a month her fur had stayed the same length as when she had it cut. She did get a bit furrier, but nowhere near as much as she should have. Theres a lot of things in hindsight, that make it obvious she didn't have very long left.

We did the best we could for her though, even to the end. We gave her a good life, and she loved us, and I know thats all that matters in the end. It doesn't really stop me from missing her though, or make the heaviness I feel sometimes go away.

she had me her whole life, I only had her physically for part of mine, but I'll keep her with me emotionally for the rest of it, as much as I am able to. Eventually it won't hurt as much, but I'll love her still.

[fancy-paws-grooming-salon]

How Often Should A Poodle Be Bathed And Trimmed?

If you have a poodle as your best friend, it is very important that you inform yourself about the care required. At Fancy Paws, the best dog spa in Chicago, we advise you when and how to bathe your poodle.

In the dog’s dermis, we find the sebaceous glands that help to keep the skin stable and to give stability to the coat. It is very important to understand that excessive washing or the use of not recommendable products, will bring as a consequence. We should bathe our poodle approximately every 21 to 35 days, enough time for the skin to regenerate and recover its natural fats. After this time, we can bathe him without any problem.

Bathing an adult poodle step by step: At Fancy Paws, our Dog Grooming Salon Chicago we advise you how is the best way to do it:

1. Fill your bathtub with lukewarm water without the water level is too high. 2. Help your dog to get into the bathtub, watch out for slipping! 3. Wet him with the help of your bath hose so that his whole body is wet. 4. We recommend starting with the paws: rub thoroughly to remove dirt.

Followed by the torso, genitals, and neck. Do not wet or soap the head. When it is completely lathered, you can start rinsing the entire body. Spend time rinsing so that there is no soap residue on the coat. When you finish, cover him with a towel and wait for him to absorb some of the water. Afterward, just use a hair dryer to dry him thoroughly. Use a brush to give him a better look.

The most recommended thing is that you gently rub the dog’s teeth with a cloth. Another option is to use a brush with soft bristles to avoid hurting the puppy’s gums.

It is also important that you know that there are several special toothpastes for dogs. It is necessary that you do not use the one that is for humans.

If you want the best baths for your dog, don't hesitate any more, Fancy Paws is the best Pet Grooming Services in Chicago. So feel welcome to our Pet Grooming Salon in Chicago!!!

[aurumacadicus]

Pride Pocket12--I Wanna Be Your Dog

Kink belongs at Pride and as an ace person I’m personally sick of people using my existence to try and push it out, so this year I’m dedicating my Pride Pockets to Kink. Obviously this has awakened something in me. I’m suddenly in love with owners Steve and Natasha and their (sometimes) sweet pups, Bucky and Tony. Fuck. You can find this fic on AO3 (here). Look out for under the cut!

--

Tony was going to be visiting.

Bucky growled to himself, pawing at the basket muzzle over his mouth, the stainless-steel wires not doing much to hide his sneer. He paced the room once, twice, then turned to Steve with a snarl. He liked his hood better. He liked the way his ears flapped when he shook his head like that instead of the way these had to stand upright on the muzzle.

“The muzzle is a safety precaution that you agreed to previously. You almost bit him last time,” Steve said, unperturbed, and continued working on his crossword puzzle as if Bucky was not capable of body slamming him with his displeasure. He glanced at his phone as it buzzed, then began folding his newspaper away.

Bucky huffed to make his displeasure known again. Maybe if Tony wasn’t such a snooty poodle, they’d get along. As it was, every time Tony came over, he ate Bucky’s food, hogged Bucky’s toys, and stole Bucky’s bed. Admittedly, he didn’t know if Tony expected the same treatment from his apartment; Bucky had taken one look at Tony’s dog bed that was more expensive than his and Steve’s queen and decided he was too skittish to try for it. He was bulkier than Tony. He might have damaged it.

Steve stood and made his way over to him, casually scooping up his thick leather leash from the table as he came to a stop beside him. Bucky scrambled to get away from him, but Steve was used to him, easily snapping the leash’s clasp onto the d-ring of his harness. “Bucky, cut it out,” Steve ordered sharply. “Sit.”

Bucky waited two beats, just to show he was sitting because he wanted to, not because he was told to. He huffed again, scowling, as Steve tied the other end of the leash to the post under the breakfast bar. He waited for the telltale knock at the door, getting up again so he could put the force of his whole body into his barking. He was absolutely stunned when Steve simply walked over to the door and opened it to show Tony and Natasha outside it.

“Wow, texting actually worked. He’s not barking at all,” Natasha said, surprised, as Steve welcomed them inside with a wave of his arm. She opened her bag as she stepped inside, digging through it with meticulous focus as Steve helped Tony out of his long coat, showing off that he was wearing nothing but his chest and plug harnesses, decorated by fluff to really make it look like he had a poodle cut. She unearthed Tony’s black poodle hood and matching paws. “Be a good boy and sit.”

Tony sat obediently, allowing her to do the majority of the work helping him into his hood and paws. Bucky seethed. What a spoiled show dog. He bet Tony got steaks for dinner at his house, and he was just as sure that Tony was going to help himself to Bucky’s food bowl anyway. And Tony wasn’t intimidated by the bulk of him at all, even when Bucky snarled and bared his teeth in warning. It was why they’d all decided he had to be muzzled during play-dates, at least until he learned to deal with Tony.

He doubted he ever would, Bucky thought sourly, as Natasha finally allowed Tony to pop back onto his paws. She got his leash on before he could bolt, though, and he came to heel immediately, chest heaving with excited pants as his eyes darted around the room. Brown noser.

Steve came back over and untied Bucky’s leash, taking a step to lead him toward Tony and Natasha. Bucky planted himself back into his sitting position, unimpressed.

“Bucky,” Steve hissed, glaring at him.

Bucky just blinked up at him serenely. Steve hadn’t said ‘come’ or ‘heel’ so he figured he should follow Steve’s previous order to sit.

“Sassy,” Natasha said, luckily sounding amused rather than hesitant. She clicked her tongue and tightened her grip on Tony’s leash as she chose to step forward instead, and Tony kept perfect pace with her, tail wagging with each step as they approached.

Well. It would be rude not to greet him when he looked so happy, Bucky figured, getting up again. He stepped forward, scenting the air. Tony smelled of the expensive leather used to make his harnesses, and… blueberries? Steve had mentioned once it was a treat Natasha used to keep Tony calm outside of their apartments. He leaned in as Tony came closer, sniffing down his back until he could get to Tony’s rear. His tail was brushed to poofy perfection, the leather of his tail harness cupping each cheek in a way that made them look even rounder. Bucky couldn’t help a pang of jealousy at what a pretty dog Tony was. Pretty dogs shouldn’t be annoying, he thought.

“Will you boys behave?” Natasha asked pleasantly.

There was an edge to her voice that Bucky recognized from the fighting ring he’d endured before Steve had rescued him. He fought the urge to cower, because Tony didn’t look alarmed in the slightest. Steve seemed to notice and stepped in closer, the hand not holding his leash carefully petting along his scalp, scratching behind his ears.

“He’ll behave,” Steve told her firmly.

Natasha blinked at him in surprise, then took a step back, looking contrite. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” She looked down at Tony, frowning. “Will you behave?” she said, as if correcting herself.

Tony just smiled up at her guilelessly, panting.

“…Alright,” Natasha said skeptically, reaching down to unclip his leash.

And they did behave, for a while.

Tony moved around the apartment sniffing everything and Bucky followed him, not trusting Tony to appreciate everything (that is, appreciate that everything belonged to Bucky). Tony found a squeaky toy and slapped it around just to hear it squeak and Bucky watched, just to make sure that Tony didn’t do the same to his soft stuffed rabbit. (Tony had apparently learned to give it a wide berth after Bucky almost bit him last time. He figured he probably should feel guilty about that now, as he watched Tony literally give it three feet of space as he circled it.) Tony found Bucky’s food and water bowls, and Bucky kept his growling to a minimum as he watched Tony sniff around them before trotting off again. It was fine.

And then it wasn’t fine. Bucky wasn’t even sure what set him off—Tony flopping into his dog bed and rolling around to get his scent all over it? Tony snatching half his food before Bucky chased him away from it? Tony accidentally stepping on his soft stuffed rabbit as he went chasing after Bucky’s favorite fetch ball?—but whatever it was, it had him chasing Tony around the apartment with a snarl, and Tony let out terrified little yipping noises as he ran.

Natasha made the mistake of trying to separate them instead of letting Steve do it, apparently not wanting to waste the extra twenty seconds it would take Steve to circle the kitchen counter. She’d caught Bucky by the harness in an attempt to pull him to a stop, but he’d just bowled through her, and she’d gone skidding across the ground and into his feeding station, where she got covered in the half-remaining food and his entire bowl of water.

Like any self-respecting dogs, Bucky and Tony had scattered and hid.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve told her hurriedly, helping her to her feet. “I should have told you that Bucky is solid.”

Natasha stared at Steve for a moment, stunned speechless. Finally, though, she deadpanned, “No, you’re right, I never would have realized your dog was built like a brick house, Steve.”

“I was going to offer you a shower and a change of clothes before you said that,” Steve replied, and she winced apologetically in response. “Throw your clothes out and I’ll take them down to the laundry room. I’ll leave some of my clothes on the counter.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Natasha sighed, then slanted a sharp look toward where Tony was cowering under the kitchen table. “Tony. Come.”

Tony approached hesitantly, more skittishly than Bucky had ever seen him. He couldn’t help a low growl at the sight, but luckily, he went ignored.

Natasha pointed to a spot in front of the couch. “Lie down. Stay,” she added sharply when he shifted restlessly. “Do not make me put a leash on you while I shower. I hate doing that.”

Tony let out a sigh as if he was the most put upon dog in the world, laying his head on his paws.

Bucky knew he wasn’t going to be so lucky. He’d been the aggressor. He hadn’t bitten Tony, but he had mounted him for a moment, trying to hump him into submission. That was part of the reason Natasha had tried to grab him—Steve had been so shocked when he’d realized what was happening that he’d shouted, ‘That’s impolite!’ and Tony had taken the chance to scamper off again while Bucky and Natasha gaped at Steve.

But he’d take his lumps. He’d caused Natasha to get covered in dog food, after all. He cautiously crawled out from his kennel, sighing, and said nothing as Steve grabbed him by the harness and dragged him over to the kitchen. He tied Bucky’s leash to the post holding up the breakfast bar again, then clipped it to his d-ring with a shake of his head and a sigh.

Bucky was not going to be ashamed about what happened, but he did sink down into a lying position so Steve wouldn’t have to order him.

“Unbelievable,” Steve muttered, rolling his eyes, before he turned back to Natasha and motioned toward the hallway. “Come on.”

“Thanks,” she said, then offered Tony one more narrow-eyed look, firmly repeating, “Stay.”

Tony let out a whuff, looking up at her with mournful eyes, but Natasha simply raised an eyebrow before she followed Steve down the hall to the bathroom.

Steve returned a moment later, Natasha’s clothes in hand, and took a minute to just walk over and frown at Bucky. “Bud, she’s not gonna set up play-dates with us anymore if you keep doing this.”

Bucky huffed, shrinking in on himself. He didn’t care if he never saw Tony again.

Steve squatted in front of him and reached out to carefully cup Bucky’s cheek in his hand. He reluctantly leaned into Steve’s palm. “Just be patient until you get more used to Tony, okay? And stop chasing him so fast,” he added, more as an afterthought. “I could hear his knees popping.”

The whuff Tony let out was more offended than mournful this time.

“I’m going to run a quick load of laundry. Stay,” Steve ordered, leaning in to kiss Bucky’s forehead before he stood. “And for the love of god, if I have to repair this post again, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Bucky noticed Tony’s eyes darting between him and the post and couldn’t help his chest puffing out proudly. Admittedly, breaking the post had been an accident, but if Tony was impressed, he wasn’t going to tell him so.

Steve rolled his eyes as he grabbed the hamper from the bedroom, then walked over to give Tony a pat on the head as well. “Good boy, staying exactly where Natasha told you to. Stay there, okay?”

Tony’s tail wagged, and he let out a soft woof as he watched Steve head to the door and open it.

The door closed behind Steve with a soft click, and Bucky sighed and laid his head on his paws again. Better not test Steve and Natasha’s patience again. Best to just keep his head down and hope they forget that he and Tony had made a mess of Natasha’s clothes and Bucky’s feeding station, which Steve would now have to clean up.

Bucky heard Tony return to his paws and squinted an eye open to watch him. Tony had gotten back up and moved over to the trashed feeding station, sniffing it curiously. Then he wandered over to Natasha’s purse, nosing around in it. Not finding what he was looking for, he then turned his attention to Bucky’s toys again, and slapped one of his fetch balls and chased after it. He was going to get in trouble, Bucky thought. Natasha had to shower because of their shenanigans, after all, and having to take baths was really annoying. Tony was either very brave or very stupid. Bucky was still feeling a bit bitter about the leash, so he decided Tony was stupid.

Bucky growled when the ball bounced over and thumped him against the side of the head, slamming his paw down on it before it rolled away. Tony paused a few feet from him, tail swinging back and forth slowly, before he ducked his head, eyeing the ball speculatively. He let out a little woof, questioning, then dropped his front paws forward, tail up and wagging as he tried to draw Bucky into play with a wide grin.

Bucky closed his eyes again, ignoring him. He heard Tony huff and unconsciously curled his paw tighter around the ball. When he felt something nudging at his paw, he opened his eyes with another growl, baring his teeth when he saw Tony had invaded his space in an attempt to swat the ball back to play with. Tony, miraculously, growled back. It startled Bucky enough that he closed his mouth, trying to figure out where Tony’s sudden aggression had come from. Then Tony lunged at him.

Well, lunged at the ball still beneath his paw, but Bucky only realized that belatedly, surging to his feet and using his bulk to shove Tony back, away. Tony was not to be deterred, trying to shove back at him, but as scrappy as he might be, he had nothing on Bucky, both in size and in skill. He hadn’t forgotten everything about his time in the dog fighting ring before he'd been rescued.

Tony yelped as Bucky mounted him again, paws scrambling across the tiles, but Bucky clenched his front paws tight around him, keeping him pinned beneath him as he rutted against him. Maybe, if he was able to get Tony to submit, he’d teach Tony to stop being so aggressive in Bucky’s own fucking home. Tony scrambled under him, whining, but Bucky wasn’t going to be deterred this time. It was time to settle this once and for all.

Tony flailed his front paws back, and Bucky was confused when he heard something clatter to the ground, which made him reluctantly back off. He didn’t want to hurt Tony. Just show him who was the top dog.

It took him a moment to realize that the sound had been Tony’s tail harness falling to the ground around his thighs. He blinked, surprised. It couldn’t have just fallen off. Natasha was a meticulous owner. Tony must have pushed it off with his reach. He cocked his head, considering what this meant, but as he watched, Tony turned, dropping onto his elbows and shoving his rear up, toward him. His hole glistened, empty and clenching, between his cheeks.

Oh, Bucky realized, unable to help a startled huff as he leaned in, nosing his muzzle between Tony’s cheeks. That was why Tony had been so aggressive and skittish in turns. He was in heat. Bucky took this in, considering. Tony was a poodle. Surely Natasha would have found another poodle to breed him? Or something that would make, what were they called… doodles? Doodles were popular, whatever they were, he recalled. She must not have known how close Tony was, otherwise, she wouldn’t have scheduled the play-date.

Tony whined, shoving his ass up higher, and well. Tony had obviously chosen him. Who was he to hesitate?

Bucky mounted him again, curling his front legs around Tony as he rutted against him with more purpose, cock hardening quickly at the prospect of breeding Tony up. It took a few thrusts, but finally, the head of his cock found Tony’s hole, and he thrust forward again harder, sinking in halfway in one go. He tightened his grip on Tony as he thrust in further, pressing them together so that Tony’s fur tickled his chest and stomach. Tony let out a whimper, shuddering below him, but Bucky didn’t stop, instead spreading his back legs for more leverage to fuck him in earnest.

Tony took it like a champ, whimpering and whining beneath him even as he shoved his own hips back to meet Bucky’s thrusts. He was so wet and hot inside, Bucky felt his knot swelling quickly in response. Tony was so soft and needy below him, taking each brutal thrust with ease, spreading his own back legs to give him more room to work with. He bet Tony would have lots of pups. Natasha took really good care of him, fed him well, kept him groomed real nice, gave him lots of treats and expensive beds. Tony would look really good, belly swollen with pups. His pups. Bucky wanted everyone to know that Tony was his bitch and they were his pups being carried in his round belly.

Tony threw his head back over Bucky’s shoulder, mouth open wide as he panted. Bucky snuffled into his throat, suddenly regretting the muzzle for a different reason—he wanted to be able to take in Tony’s scent better, the slick sweat, the lingering scent of fruit on his breath. He wanted to be able to lick his vulnerable throat, press his teeth in until Tony whimpered in supplication and always dropped into breeding position for him, submissive and sweet.

Bucky shifted his hips as his knot began catching on Tony’s hole, shortening his thrusts. He heard Tony begin to let out a low whine and shifted his right front paw, giving him something to rut up against as well. Tony began shifting his hips, rocking down into his paw and then back into his knot. Bucky tightened his grip on him and planted his feet so he could rut forward once, twice, before finally forcing his swollen knot past Tony’s hole.

Tony howled, back arching, hips stuttering weakly before he fell limp with a low whine. Bucky adjusted his grip so Tony didn’t fall right on his face, rocking into him a little longer just so his ears could pick up on the wet squelch as he fucked his spend deeper into Tony’s hole, the little huffs every time his knot tugged at his rim. He wanted to lick Tony all over and whined when he realized his muzzle prevented it. How was he supposed to lick him clean after they untied? He gathered Tony up against him, possessive. Maybe he could get Steve to take the muzzle off when he saw that Bucky was definitely not going to try and bite Tony anymore. Not when breeding him was an option.

.-.

Natasha almost fell out of the shower in her rush to get out of it when she heard Tony howl. She’d been foolish to think Tony would stay in one place while she showered when there was another dog to bother. Steve had said he’d tie Bucky up and would only be gone ten minutes for his trip to the laundry room, and she’d believed that would be enough.

She should have brought Tony into the bathroom with her. Tony had gotten into trouble after being left alone for two minutes, let alone ten, and that was when he didn’t have another aggressive dog to contend with. The sound of rushing water made him nervous, but if she kept the curtain open so he could see her, his anxiety was manageable. And at least that way he’d be safe from Bucky.

She didn’t even bother to grab a towel, feet slipping on the floor before her hands caught the doorknob and she could hold herself upright while she got the door open. If Bucky was attacking Tony again, she’d elbow drop him right in the kidney. She’d feel bad about it later, probably, but in order to protect her pup, she’d do anything to keep him safe.

Natasha slipped on her way out into the living room, and the only reason she didn’t eat shit was because she managed to get onto one of the rugs decorating the floor. Her eyes scanned for Tony, and she found him under Bucky. She took a step forward, arm already lifting to drop her elbow directly into Bucky’s left kidney, but then Tony let out a sound, half whimper and half moan, and she froze in place. She was intimately familiar with that sound—sated, fucked out, and comfortable. She couldn’t help her mouth dropping open a little in shock. In the ten minutes that she’d been in the shower and Steve had been in the laundry room, they’d fucked. And Bucky had somehow gotten him to come in that short amount of time, too.

Natasha returned to the bathroom to put on the shirt and pajama pants Steve had left her, because Tony always needed a couple minutes to come down from his orgasm. Then she went back out into the living room, fully intending to tear Bucky off her poor, abused dog.

“Oh my god,” Steve said faintly as he stepped inside. “Are they—did they...?”

“Yep,” Natasha replied, clipped, as she approached Bucky. He glanced at her sharply out of one eye, but she didn’t let that deter her. “Steve, help me get him—”

“We can’t,” Steve cut in, face going an interesting shade of puce. “They’re tied.”

Natasha swiveled to face him, expression going flat. “What did you just say to me?”

Steve grimaced, then sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “When we’re at home, Bucky wears this sheath over his dick. He likes the way it sort of helps… immerse him in his pup headspace? But recently we, uh. We were trying out this one where the knot actually swells bigger with stimulation?” He slid his hand back to rub the back of his head bashfully. “So it. It’s too big to pull out, probably.”

Natasha chewed on the inside of her cheek as she considered this new information. She knew about the wearable sheaths, though Tony preferred not to wear them himself—felt too constricting, he’d said. She’d never heard of one that swelled with stimulation, though. “…Where did you find this new sheath?” she asked carefully.

Steve brightened. “Oh, well, Tony suggested it! I mentioned I wanted to… buy Bucky some more…” He covered his mouth, shocked, then let his hands drop to his sides. “Oh my god.”

“Tony,” Natasha hissed, gripping her hands into fists. Of course. He must have planned this. He wouldn’t put himself in danger, especially when she was supposed to be taking care of him. He respected her too much. “I am withholding treats for a month.”

“It’s really nice that you think you’ll be able to do that,” Steve told her kindly.

Natasha hated that he was right. Tony had puppy eyes on the best of days. In his pup head space, mournful and contrite? She’d fold like a cheap suit. “You and Tony are splitting the dry-cleaning.”

Steve looked at the pups again and winced when he saw that Tony’s fur was flattened between his back and Bucky’s chest, and he’d drooled into the fur on the front. “Yeah, okay,” he sighed, walking over to unclip Bucky from his leash. He tapped Bucky firmly on the forehead when he whined. “Muzzle stays because it’s what we agreed on before play.”

Bucky whuffed, sounding annoyed, but pressed his muzzle more firmly against Tony’s throat.

Steve raised his hands and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bully before, you’d be wearing your hood.” He gave Bucky a pat on the head to take some of the sting out of it before walking over to sit on the couch.

Natasha watched them a little longer, just to make sure that they were safe, before she trudged over to flop onto the couch. “If he wanted to be bred, he could have just told me,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Uhf! Thanks,” Steve grunted as she landed half on his stomach. He curled an arm around her waist to tug her into a more comfortable position. “He gets skittish when he wants things. You know that. We’ll just have to sit him down and remind him that we love him and that he can ask for things.”

“Ugh,” Natasha huffed, knocking her head back against his shoulder.

She wasn’t looking forward to it. Like Steve had said, Tony was skittish. Had been the entire time she’d known him, even when she was undercover. He’d been terrified when he’d finally told her that sometimes he liked to engage in puppy play, had hurriedly added she didn’t need to subject herself to it before she could even open her mouth to respond. ‘I’ve been doing it by myself for a long time,’ he’d said earnestly, as if it wasn’t one of the most heartbreaking things she’d ever heard. He’d been similarly terrified when Natasha talked about bringing Steve and Bucky into playing with them.

Of course he’d be scared to admit he wanted to make the play sexual. Just because everything worked out with the three of them, it didn’t mean he could forget how he was treated by people he trusted in the past.

Natasha heaved a sigh, closing her eyes. “God. Well, while we’re talking, I’m gonna bring up how you guys never come to our apartment. I know you guys feel awkward around his expensive stuff but to Tony it’s just stuff and he feels sad that you guys never want to play there.”

“Bucky worries he’ll ruin Tony’s toys,” Steve replied, shrugging a little.

“I’m gonna fucking tear that plush dog bed in half at brunch tomorrow to show Bucky how much Tony doesn’t care,” Natasha said, voice flat, and wondered if Steve was aware she was serious when he chuckled. She was going to rip it beyond repair just so Bucky and Steve could watch Tony slow-blink before saying something along the lines of ‘well, that color was getting boring anyway.’

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐢 𝐬𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞...

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you think your “tiny” crush on one d&d-playing, ring-wearing, poodle-rivaling brunet goes unnoticed until you’re confronted in a pizzeria of all places

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, cursing (possible overuse of ‘shit’), excessive and shameless but respectful staring lol, dustin being a good wingman (wingboy? idk), mike being a little shit, & mentions of weed

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3370

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: didn’t think i’d be joining the eddie munson band wagon but he and joseph quinn have stolen my heart & won’t give it back || i just finished vol. 2 … i am not okay 😀 i hope you enjoy & feedback is golden so let me know what you think! feel free to send me a request, guidelines here

buy me a coffee ☕️!

Eddie is different. And not because of his long hair with fluffy curls that could rival a poodle. Not because of his affinity for using his hands to make devil horns in that same poodle-rivaling hair. Not because he likes D&D, smokes weed, or does any of the other bullshit people find a reason to dislike.

Eddie is just different. But in the best way possible.

Like Steve, you had been roped in as mother hen number two, caring for the little troublemakers. It was comical how often they came looking to you for help when the other mother pawned them off on you, dubbing it “your weekend”.

It didn’t bother you. Like at all. In fact, you were more than comfortable with playing house. You would like to say that it’s because you have nothing else to do, but that is only partially true. There are a million and one other things you could be doing than waiting to catch a glimpse of Eddie “the freak” Munson.

And, yeah, maybe you are paying too much attention to someone who has hardly shown you interest; but life is short. Why not spend your time ogling?

You ogle discreetly - you never stare for longer than three seconds. Also, you always try your hardest to stay engaged in the ongoing conversation to not draw unwanted attention. While it may be a bit much, the plan is yours, and well, it works.

At least, it usually did. You blame the kids. The day had been chock-full of taking the little gremlins two towns over to get their sticky paws on the latest version of a video game, which resulted in your car breaking down. Then you had to get it towed and blah, blah, blah. Needless to say, your day had not exactly gone to plan.

Your day was a bit stressful, and who wants to feel stressed? Certainly not you. So, to feel better, you do what you have to. And it does its job. You decide to allow yourself more than three seconds to stare respectfully. What? You still have manners.

Staring at Eddie is like going to an art museum. You stare at the art because it captivates you, right? In your defense, Eddie Munson had captivated your attention on more than one occasion.

The thunking of the dice rolling on the table was followed by a collective groan. The frustration gave you the perfect opportunity to look back at Eddie. His head was tilted back in a hearty laugh as what he previously predicted came to bite the group in their asses. You wanted to feel bad for the kids, but he did warn them, so whatever happened was their fault. 

You were too busy window shopping to hear the repeated calls of your name. You pulled yourself out of your daydreaming, noticing Eddie staring at you. Wait... Not just staring at you. Eddie was staring at you, staring at him.

You quickly turned your gaze away from his brown eyes, praying to whatever higher power was out there he hadn’t seen you ogling him the entire time. Clearing your throat, you turned to Dustin, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Uhh, nothing.” The words came out way too fast, and you furrowed your eyebrows. Obviously, nothing meant there was something.

“Okay...” You felt your eyes drifting over to the brunet, poodle-rivaling D&D player. Before you could embarrass yourself any further, you stood up, the scraping of your chair against the floor directing all attention to you. Yeah, not really the effect you were going for.

“You guys hungry?” Simple. Effective. Mom hen-ish.

The group sang choruses of yes and omg, I’m starving. So, naturally, you were spared humiliation when you took a vote and landed on pizza. They were nearing the end of their campaign, and you knew they would be both hungry and tired afterward.

Just before you made it out the door, Mike called you back. You sighed, hoping he wasn’t trying to change the pizza order. What he said instead took you by surprise. “How are you gonna get there? I mean, your car is toast - like burnt toast. Like really burnt."

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them. Why did he feel the impending need to remind you of the hot shit you were already wading through? Michael Wheeler, everybody! The kid who gives no fucks!

“I can just get it,” Eddie suggested, leaning forward with elbows resting on the table. His hair was released from its ponytail - if it could even be considered one with its looseness. You found yourself staring a bit too long, directing your attention back to his face, where you discovered a cocked brow and tiny smirk tugging at his lips.

“Or!” Dustin shrugged, tilting his head back and forth. “You could just go together.” He sent a slightly sympathetic look to his older friend, “No offense, Eds, but you’re pretty shit at remembering things. Besides, who is gonna help you with all those boxes?” Dustin did an enthusiastic drum roll on the table, smiling, “Y/N! She’s pretty strong.”

-

You were trying to be strong; you really were. The ride into town was awkward, putting it mildly. You realized that it may have seemed rude to have your entire body facing the door and not to say a word, but being in a tight space, so close, you were trying your hardest not to stare.

Once the pizza place came into view, you quickly hopped out of the van as soon as he unlocked the doors. Your feet dragged you over to the entrance before you could stop them, and you felt bad when he reached over and held the door open for you.

You muttered a small thanks. Any more words, you would probably have exposed your silly little crush. 

It was mostly empty, and you took your time staring at the posters and writings on the walls, attempting to not stare at the one thing (or one person, to be exact) you should not be looking at.

But eventually, like they usually did, your eyes wandered over, and you found yourself staring at Eddie again. It was beginning to become a problem at this point. And that was further proven when he started talking.

“Hey, Paul, how ya doing? So we’ll get two...” Eddie squinted his eyes, tapping the counter with his fingers as if that would speed up the recollection process.

You snapped out of your stupor and stepped forward. “Hi, could you get us four pepperoni pizzas and one supreme?”

“Right.” Eddie clasped his hands together, nodding like he was the one who remembered, not you. “Four pepperonis and one supreme. Right, right, right.”

Paul jotted it down on his tiny notepad. Not looking up, he mumbled the price, and Eddie stopped you when you went to pull out your wallet.

Leaning on the counter with his elbows and hair sweeping over his shoulders, he flashed a grin at the boy. “Paul, my man, you remember that time you got some-” 

The brunet glanced at you, “substances... a.k.a. weed from me." Eddie coughed, whispering the words out. “And, you didn’t pay because your mom took away your allowance since you wouldn’t clean your room? Remember how I let it slide?”

Paul looked around the pizzeria nervously, hoping no one was listening. Once the coast was clear, he nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah, well, now is the time to pay. Soooo,” Eddie tapped his fingers on the counter as he straightened. “We’re gonna get these pizzas on the house, and you don’t have to worry ‘bout paying me back. Cool with you? Great! Go get ‘em, bud.” He patted Paul on the shoulder, sending him scurrying away to the back.

You watched the entire exchange with wide eyes. There was something so wildly attractive about Eddie taking charge, even if he couldn’t remember a simple pizza order. You thanked him quietly, again sure that if you said another word, it would be your inevitable downfall.

A silence settled over the two of you. Continuing to stare at the art on the walls and the work of art standing right next to you, you tried to recollect yourself. Though Eddie was probably a gift from whatever higher power was out there, your obsession was getting out of hand.

Sure, he might be nice to look at, but you weren’t some middle schooler who just figured out what crushes were and how exciting they could be. You were older and more rational and-

Before your affirmations could take off, a voice pulled you back to the present. You turned to see Eddie facing you. He chuckled softly, noticing that you weren’t paying attention to a word. You were stuck up in your head somewhere.

“Sorry, what?” You felt sheepish. Not only had you repeatedly stared at him like he was on display with you watching through the window to see if you wanted to try him on, but he had caught you doing so. Your zoning out and ignoring him was the cherry on the insurmountable pile of shit you were digging your way out of. If there was even a tiny chance in hell that Eddie was interested in you, it was now flushed down the drain for how rude you have been. 

“I said, do you wanna sit down? Probably be a while till Paulie boy is done, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to stand the entire time.” He shrugged, “Or, maybe you do. Who knows?”

“No, sitting sounds good.”

It wasn’t. The first couple of minutes were treacherously slow. Maybe your communication skills were terrible or maybe your eyes couldn’t stop staring at the tiles on the floor. Either way, the silent thing was not working, and you honestly felt so bad that Eddie had to put up with you.

Apparently, Eddie was as discontent with the awkward silence as you were. After humming and tapping his fingers on the table to a song oddly resembling Cherry Bomb by The Runaways, he leaned forward.

“Let’s play a game.”

A what? “Huh...” was your dumb reply. In your defense, you were still stuck on him knowing that song. Doesn’t he only listen to metal? At least, that’s what you heard during your stalking hours, which are anytime you two were in the same vicinity.

His laugh caught you off guard, but in a pleasant way. “God, you really are in your head a lot, aren’t you?” Warmth rushed to your face, and you suddenly felt like he had placed a spotlight directly on you.

“I- uh- I’m not-” You are so embarrassing. That thought was followed with a mental facepalm because what the hell were you saying.

“I’m sorry. That must be pretty annoying. What game did you have in mind?” Good, there you go. Normal speaking like a normal human.

Eddie watched you with interest, rolling his lips so the amusement begging to show would remain hidden. Ignoring the laughter bubbling in his throat, he made a circle with his hand and put it to his eye.

“Let’s play I Spy...”

You stared blankly for a few seconds, letting it marinate. Eddie was humming a song suspiciously similar to something you would have never guessed the brunet to be into. He also wanted to play a game. With a tilt of your head, you expressed your bamboozlement.

“What?”

“Oh, okay. You don’t know- Basically, the way the game works is someone finds something and-“

You held up a hand, halting his speaking as you chuckled. “I know what I Spy... is, Eddie. I just- You actually wanna play that? Or are you, I don’t know, just trying to fill the silence?”

He stared at you quizzically, and you figured you had said too much until he shook his head. 

“Nope, I wanna play. So, you in, daydreamer?”

“Sure.” Why not? What could possibly go wrong? 

And the game began. First, it was small things like something black and white. The floor tiles. Or something red. That one took Eddie a second because the two of you were in a pizza place where almost everything was red. But it was the jukebox collecting dust in the corner.

Then, things took a turn for the worst. Well, correction, they weren’t that bad (only slightly), but boy, did they take you by surprise. 

Eddie was next, and you were a bit nervous as he had given you surprisingly difficult, specific things to find. His brown eyes looked around the pizzeria before they landed on you, accompanied by a mischievous glint and a conspiratorial grin.

“I spy...” Eddie paused for dramatic effect, putting you on the edge of your seat, “with my little eye...”The brunet winked at you, and you mentally cursed whatever higher power created him. One simple gesture had you wishing you could stop window shopping, go into that metaphorical store, and take him home.

“A person.”

...

Is he serious?

“Wearing black.”

Is he talking about himself or...?

“Who is always stuck in their head.”

That’s oddly specific.

“And...” His grin morphed into a smirk as he squinted his eyes at you. You doubt he realized he was enunciating the purpose of the game. “Andddd is a little stalker.”

Can you guess who he’s talking about? Ding, ding, ding. You! We have a winner! Or maybe, this isn’t as much of a win, considering your crush (ahem, obsession) was just exposed.

“I can totally explain-” Could I, though? “I am so sorry.” That was partially true. You felt bad but who wouldn’t want to stare at Eddie Munson. “God, you must think I’m such a creep.”

Your worried rambling was cut short by the most angelic sound - Eddie’s laughing. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. He was laughing at you. Laughing. You swear you have never felt as embarrassed in all your years.

“I think I’m just gonna go...”

Wait, how am I going to get home? Walk? Nah, too far. Hitchhike? Too dangerous. I’ve seen enough TV and newspapers warning against that to try it myself. I may be obsessive, but I’m not stupid. Wait, maybe I could-

Eddie covered his mouth, attempting to hide his laughter behind his hand. He shook his head, his face tinting red as he composed himself. “No, no. You’re- God-” He started laughing again. “You’re just, uh- it’s kinda cute, you know?”

Cute...?

He interrupted before you could ask what exactly that meant. “You probably think you’re pretty discreet, right?” Well, you did at first. But now, it was obvious that you had not been. “It’s just- it’s kinda obvious. Like the whole looking, then looking away, and the whole daydreaming thing.”

Oh. Were you really that obvious?

“C’mon, don’t be so embarrassed.” Eddie peeled your palms off your face. You looked up to see a wondrous sight. His face was reddened from all the laughing, and a wide grin had broken through the surface.

“Don’t be-” You pulled your hands away, pouting as you slumped in your seat. “Of course, I’m embarrassed, Eddie. You weren’t supposed to find out.”

This was torture.

“So, if I hadn’t called you out on it, you would keep doing it?” He caught you there.

“Well- um...” There was no way for redemption, so you shut your mouth. It was bad enough that he’d caught you, and you definitely didn’t want to make the situation even worse because your mouth wouldn’t stop moving.

Eddie watched your internal battle with an overly amused interest. Had the situation been different, you probably would have given him a piece of your mind. Instead, you sat in your seat, brows furrowed and lip jutting out as you tried to alleviate the sticky mess you found yourself in. 

“Look, Eddie, I’m sorry, really.” You took in a breath, “I completely understand why you might be creeped out and-”

“Hold on, wait.”

You stopped talking, finally turning to look at him. And, no, not like that. You were too embarrassed to enjoy the view. 

“You don’t think I’m actually mad, do you?" Your silence elicited an incredulous look from the brunet. “Do you?” A halfhearted shrug was your reply.

Sensing your embarrassment, Eddie stifled his laughing for real this time, ducking his head to look at you. All your previous thoughts about not being a crush-obsessed middle schooler were flushed down the clogged drain of your problems. It was silly, but you wanted to cry at how embarrassed and, quite frankly, mortified you felt. 

“Hey... you know I’m just messing around, right?” He scoffed, “Hell, I’m an attention whore so all your staring is going straight to my big ego. Do you realize that?”

A soft chuckle and a shake of your head made Eddie smile. “No, really. I’ve just been soaking it up. I’m a real glutton for praise, but hey, maybe next time, you should ask me out before undressing me with your eyes.”

You gawked at him, finally meeting his gaze. While you weren’t expecting him to be okay with it, it was an even bigger shock for him to say that.

It seemed that the gods or whoever was out there decided to end your misery. Or, they were sick and tired of you embarrassing yourself. Either way, Paul set the pizzas on the counter, calling the two of you over. 

“Oh, would you look at that? Our pizzas are done. I’m gonna go get them...” You mumbled out the last couple of words as you hurried to the counter like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Eddie watched in astonishment and amusement as you somehow bundled up all five pizza boxes in your arms, kicking the door open with your foot.

Dustin wasn’t kidding about you being pretty strong. Not that five pizza boxes are a whole lot. But still, Eddie was impressed.

He turned to Paul, who was wearing a similar look. “She’s pretty cool, huh?”

Paul could only nod, rubbing the back of his neck. Before the boy went to answer the ringing phone, he muttered and shook his head, “They make an odd couple.”

-

The two of you made it back, Eddie carrying most of the boxes (which he said was part of him making up for the immense teasing). You weren’t as discreet with your staring now. Why would you be? The cat was out of the bag, and you had a pending date with the person who opened it.

Dustin, who sported a shit-eating grin, remarked how Eddie could drive you around until your car was fixed. You realized that the little shit had orchestrated the whole thing. Not the car breaking down, but you and Eddie going together. You weren’t complaining, though.

A week or so later and the date came. When Eddie picked you up, you asked if you could play some music. In the glovebox where he kept all his cassettes and CDs was a mixtape with a song you knew all too well.

If you couldn’t guess, it was Cherry Bomb by the Runaways. Yeah, you aren’t letting that one go anytime soon.

[renecdote]

Sunday Dreaming

For @mellaithwen 💛

[Read on AO3]

Cinnamon is there to greet him as soon as Eddie opens the door.

“Good morning,” he grins, crouching down to rub her head while she licks enthusiastically at every inch of him she can reach, tail wagging furiously. “Hey, good girl, I missed you too. How are you today?”

Cinnamon’s tail wags impossibly faster, claws clicking against the floor as she wriggles. Eddie laughs quietly, scratching that sweet spot behind her ears.

“Traitor.”

Eddie glances up, finding Buck leaning in the doorway, looking soft and sleep rumpled.

“We were cuddling,” he complains, mostly joking. “But as soon as she heard your truck…”

“What can I say?” Eddie glances down at the dog’s curly brown head. “She loves me best.”

“Hmph.”

Buck wraps his arms around his chest, a half-hearted hug against the morning chill. He seems content to lean in the doorway and watch, though, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and mouth. Eddie’s knees crack when he stands, and Cinnamon almost trips him getting underfoot, but three steps bring him close enough to wind his arms around his husband’s waist.

“Good morning,” he murmurs against Buck’s lips.

“Mm.” Lashes fluttering, pressing closer, closer into Eddie’s warmth. “It is now.”

Cinnamon sits by their feet and watches them kiss, head craned judgementally, tail swishing impatiently against the floor while she waits for them to be done so they can give her all their attention again. She’s only six months old, but she has all the attitude of the teenager sleeping down the hall.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Eddie tells her when she gets fed up waiting and paws at his foot.

Buck huffs a laugh, his breath warm against Eddie’s skin. “You said exactly the same thing to me the other day.”

Eddie kisses him again, a quick peck on the lips. “And I meant it.”

Buck sighs dramatically. “You only love for my body.”

Eddie pinches his waist, not hard enough to hurt. “It’s definitely one of the reasons I love you,” he agrees.

Cinnamon yaps, as if in agreement. They both grin down at her.

“Are you coming back to bed?” Buck asks, and Eddie really isn’t sure for a moment if he’s talking to him or the dog. Both, he guesses.

“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing back down the hallway.

It’s a slow shuffle since neither of them is quite willing to let go of each other, and Cinnamon soon runs eagerly ahead to the bedroom. Eddie trades jeans and his LAFD shirt for sweats and a soft blue t-shirt that might have been Buck’s once, then he climbs into bed beside his husband. Cinnamon waits patiently, sitting at the end of the bed, until Buck and Eddie are comfortably wrapped around each other. Then she forces them apart so she can wedge in between them, settling down with a long, dramatic dog sigh.

Buck and Eddie meet each other’s eyes over her head, straight faced for only a second before they both start laughing, shoulders shaking as they try to keep quiet.

“Oh honey,” Eddie laughs, stroking the poodle’s head. “Long day already?”

Her tail thumps once, twice, a third time. She turns her head just enough to stick her cold, wet nose against his neck.

“Such a hard life,” Buck murmurs in agreement, scratching along her back.

The ‘no dogs on the bed’ rule lasted approximately twenty seconds when they first got Cinnamon, up until the point where she started whimpering in her bed in the corner of the room and Eddie crumpled like a piece of soggy tissue paper. She was smaller then, took up hardly any room, and some days now Eddie thinks he should regret giving her so much liberty but—

But. One look at those eyes and he’d give her the world.

Besides, is not like he’s the only one who spoils her.

“Good girl,” Buck is saying now, kissing the top of her head. “Yeah, you are, you’re such a good girl. Are you going to wake us up in an hour?”

Cinnamon snuffles in agreement, as if she has any understanding of what Buck is saying. Eddie curls an arm over her, fingers catching on the hem of Buck’s shirt on the other side, knuckles brushing the warm skin of his stomach. Cinnamon might wake them up, if she gets hungry, or Chris will when he gets out of bed. Or maybe they’ll sleep the whole morning away, the way any good, lazy Sunday should be spent.

When they get up, Eddie thinks vaguely, thoughts starting to blur around the edges, he’ll make bacon and eggs, maybe even hash browns. Cinnamon will sit under the table with her head on his thigh, begging silently for scraps, and Eddie will cave, the way he always caves, and sneak her a piece of the crust off his toast. Buck will knock their feet together, grinning, and Christopher, not to be outdone, will pretend to drop a piece of bacon that will be quickly eaten off the floor.

Buck will take Cinnamon for a run in the afternoon, while Eddie folds laundry, and Chris will convince them to order pizza for dinner. They’ll eat while watching a movie, Cinnamon sprawled out on the floor, her eyes closed but listening, always listening. The night will be cool, but the house will be warm around them.

The whole day unfolds in Eddie’s mind, familiar and comforting, halfway to a dream before he is even asleep.

“Love you,” Buck whispers, and Eddie wonder me or the dog? but he’s too tired to ask.

Both, he guesses.

When he wakes up, he thinks, the first thing he’ll do is tell them both that he loves them too.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 02 - Matcha]

Warnings: none, Yoongi is just a cute lil weirdo and we love him :(

Wordcount: 11.5k

a/n: i just wanna say that i love the cat. also, yoongi :(

Levi spends most of his time inside. You give him countless opportunities to venture outside. You even installed his own door in the sunroom, leading into his own outside area. But Levi doesn’t really like to go outside without you. He would have to walk through the high grasses by the sunroom, then cross the gravel path and climb over the logs you put for him. The opportunities to get dirty are too many. So most of the time he stays inside, enjoying the sunshine from his rocking chair in the sunroom. It is his rocking chair and he merely allows you to sit in it, because he cares for you.

Now, even though he loves staying inside, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love going outside. He just has rules for it. You have to carry him until you have crossed the river and then you have to stay on the paths. That is when he really loves being outside, sniffing at everything he could find and watching the insects buzz past him.

It was a Sunday today. Your tea shop is closed on Sundays, just like every store in your little village. Sundays are your official cat walking days. Unless Levi doesn’t want to join you, then they are simply your walking days. But today Levi wanted to join you, meowing at your feet as you got ready until you picked him up and reached for his leash. “Let’s take a walk Levi, shall we?” you told him and left the house afterwards. “Careful now Levi”, you whispered to him as you passed by the Old House. And Levi narrowed his eyes. He had noticed how nervous you became around the Old House and he didn’t like it because it disturbed his precious morning sunbath.

It has been around three weeks ever since the man from the city, whose name is Min Yoongi, moved into the Old House. You could watch the grey van of the Jeons come to the house two more times. It has been a week ever since their last visit. Since then, a truck with new windows, two vans with grout and concrete and an exterminator came by the house. It seems that the city guy was hell bound on renovating the Old House.

As you passed by the Old House today, the building side was quiet and the city guy was nowhere to be seen.

That was an hour ago and you had long left the Old House behind. You are sitting under an old oak tree, enjoying the sunshine which breaks through the leaves. Levi is dozing on the bench beside you, resting his little head on his paws. Every so often you are stroking through his fur, making him purr contently each time.

“I should have brought some water with me. I’m so thirsty”, you tell him.

Levi's left ear twitches.

“And we still need to walk all the way back home”, you groan.

It wakes Levi, who raises his head.

“Do you know what I would invent if I had all the resources in the world?”

Levi lowers his head again and closes his eyes.

“A flying chair, or no, better. A flying bed. I would just call it with my remote control and wait until it can pick me up.”

Levi purrs now that you are finally stroking his favourite spot right behind his ear.

“I bet we would be so successful with it. We could get rich Levi”, you look at him, “just imagine all the chicken I could buy you. Or all the plants I could put in the sunroom”, you sigh and lean back on the bench, “yes that would be great.”

Levi decides when you should leave by biting your hand and meowing afterwards. “Fine, geez. Let’s leave.”

He really likes walking with you, especially when you are on your way home again. He likes those walks more because he already knows the path and doesn’t get startled by unexpected surprises. And also because the path leads downhill. Levi, just as you, hates walking uphill.

Today however, he doesn’t like walking home, because despite all his calculations there was an unexpected surprise waiting for him in the form of a brown toy poodle.

“Behave Levi”, you tell him, picking him up. He is a well-behaved cat and would never attack dogs, but one can’t be careful enough. Especially when an unknown dog runs up to you.

Thankfully the brown poodle seems to be nothing but curious, wiggling its little butt and circling you.

“Hello little friend. I see that you are friendly too. Nice to meet you”, you say to the poodle.

The dog tilts its head at you, almost studying your face with its big, brown eyes. It waddles up to you to sniff you. Suddenly as if someone had pressed a button the little poodle starts jumping up your legs excitedly, barking and whimpering whilst wiggling its tail.

You had never seen a dog so excited to see you, not even Mickey greets you like that when you visit Hoseok’s place.

“Wow, hello to you too”, you laugh, squatting down to pet the little guy.

It basically jumps into your arms, licking your face, whilst whimpering. You chuckle, totally surprised to be greeted so heart-warmingly. If you didn’t know any better you would believe that this dog knows you, but that would be silly, you have never seen it in the neighbourhood before. Maybe it just really loves people. How cute.

“Holly! Hey, get off that lady! Holly come here!” a man, and the obvious owner, calls the little poodle, running up to you.

The poodle however doesn’t budge, still whimpering and wiggling in your arms, snuggling its little head into your chest.

“Holly come here! God, I’m so sorry ma'am. He isn’t normally like that”, the owner says.

“It’s totally fine. They are a sunshi-“, you stop talking, looking up at the owner.

“You?”

Yoongi’s eyes are big, staring down at you in shock. His cheeks gain in colour, his eyes racing from side to side in nervousness.

“H-hello”, he stutters, giving you a little wave.

“Hello”, you answer, standing up.

“I’m sorry for my dog. He isn’t normally like that. I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it”, you tell him all whilst Holly is still jumping up your legs, barking loudly.

“Holly stop it”, Yoongi says sternly, squatting down to pick up the overly excited poodle. The dog wiggles in his arms for a moment, clearly not wanting to leave your side, until he finally accepts his fate, resting his head on Yoongi’s arm.

“You can’t just go and lick strangers’ faces Holly. Not everyone likes that”, he tells his dog, speaking in a high-pitched voice whilst petting its head the entire time.

Holly barks quietly, moving its ears whilst staring up at Yoongi. If you didn’t know any better, you could think the dog was pouting at Yoongi.

“No talking back young man.”

Holly barks again.

“No pouting, this is serious. Yes this is serious”, Yoongi coos, hugging Holly closer to his chest.

This is the same man, who had watched you from the shadows like a creep? This can’t be him. It must be his clone or something or maybe you were wrong all along and he isn’t actually as big of a creep as you think him to be.

Yoongi’s eyes flit to you. He clears his throat awkwardly, blushing.

“I’m sorry. I forgot that I wasn’t alone for a moment”, he mumbles in a normal voice.

“It’s fine”, you smile, “I constantly talk to my cat too”, you tell him, pointing at Levi sitting by your feet.

“Oh, hello friend”, Yoongi’s high –pitched voice is back, “can I pet it?” he asks you in his normal voice.

“Sure, go ahead, he loves to be pet.”

Yoongi squats down, stretching out his hand for Levi to smell. Levi smells him intently. This is the moment of truth. Levi has the best seventh sense as far as people are concerned, if he doesn’t want to be pet by him then something must be wrong with him. Levi looks at him, meows once and then bumps his head with Yoongi’s hand. He is now officially Levi approved. How interesting. Perhaps he isn’t as creepy as you thought him to be.

“Yes, hello I am happy to see you too”, Yoongi chuckles, patting his head.

Yoongi stands up, grinning happily.

“You said it’s a he, right?”

“Yes he is. Levi and he is the best cat in the world.”

“Is he?” Yoongi smiles down at Levi, “your mommy thinks you are the best cat, did you hear that?”

You can’t help but giggle at the cute way he talks to Levi. Yoongi looks at you, scrunching his nose up before laughing as well.

“I did the weird voice again didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did”, you giggle.

“Ah, embarrassing”, he murmurs, lowering his head.

“It’s fine, I do it too”, you reassure him, still smiling.

Yoongi sends you a quick look, cheeks pink and lips curled into a shy smile.

“Hey, uhm”, he scratches his neck, “uhm, I don’t wanna be creepy or anything, but were you on your way home?” he asks, too nervous to look into your eyes.

“Yeah? Why?”

“It’s just...I may have lost my way. I asked Holly to sniff out the way, but he is useless in that concern.”

You chuckle.

“Well then, if that’s so. Then sure, I can show you the way.”

“Oh? Oh, that’s great, you are my literal saviour”, Yoongi visibly relaxes, letting out a little sigh of relief, “I feel a thunderstorm coming and I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to put away the cement before that.”

You look up at the grey sky. Dark clouds were gathering, taunting you like dark mountains in the sky. Just minutes ago the sun was shining down and now it looks like the apocalypse is near.

“Woah the weather’s so unpredictable here”, you mumble, quickening your steps just like Yoongi does.

You aren’t keen on getting struck by lighting and the two of you are currently the tallest things on the hill so that doesn’t really minimise your chances either.

“Right? I took a break from renovations to walk Holly and now look at the sky. It almost reminds me of mountains, very dark and taunting mountains, ready to release their avalanche of water on us”, he says, wrapping his yellow flannel tighter around his body.

A cold wind had started to howl, acting as the first indicator of the thunderstorm.

“I literally thought of the same thing”, you gasp, chuckling afterwards.

“You did? What a coincidence”, he chuckles, peeking at you shyly as he is scratching the tip of his nose.

The pathway winds past a tall and creaking oak tree, its bright green leaves writhing in the wind. It’s only minutes now and the two of you will be soaked in the rain. Will you be able to reach your homes before that? They are just past the next hill.

“Oh so that’s the path, I would have taken the wrong one again”, Yoongi mumbles.

“No, the other one leads into the mountains. That would have been a rocky road for you.”

“I see”, he chuckles shyly, “well, thank you for letting me know. I will remember it for next time.”

“It’s actually a really nice path to walk. It’s really popular with tourists as it leads right to the top of this mountain”, you say pointing at a faraway mountain plateau. Grey clouds are hiding it from your eyes right now.

“Ah, I see. I bet the view is great from up there.”

“It is. You can see the entire valley from up there. The climb is a little exhausting, but so worth it.”

“I see”, he says and nods his head, “that sounds nice. Maybe one day I will have to check it out for myself.”

“Yes, do that. I can really recommend it to you.”

He chuckles shyly and nods his head, “I will.”

The first houses of the village are starting. The pathways become a lot narrower. The wind is stronger as well, swirling around your legs and rising goosebumps on your skin.

“You seem to know your way around pretty well”, Yoongi says, sneaking a glance your way.

“I do. I’ve basically been walking all over those mountains by now, so I’m pretty familiar with the surroundings.”

“I see, honestly I can see why you moved here.”

You look at him.

“How do you know that I moved here? I never told you that.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I-I mean you, you aren’t really talking like someone born here. I, I figured that you must be from the city as well”, he stutters, “sorry that was literally so rude to assume. It’s just that we talk the same so I figured. Sorry.”

“Yeah, uhm”, you clear your throat, “you’re right. Damn and here I thought that I spent enough time here to sound like a local”, you murmur and laugh awkwardly.

“Sorry, it’s just you, uhm, say your Ls like me.”

“I do?”you sneak a glance at the blushing man, “gosh damn, so you really can’t shake the city, can you?”

He laughs, seemingly relaxing again. He scratches the side of his neck, “yeah, I guess.”

You chuckle.

“So how long have you been living here?”

“Around three years now? Bordering four.”

“Mhm, so quite a long time. That’s nice.”

You nod your head, “yeah it’s very nice. Life here is awesome.”

You don’t see it, but Yoongi smiles upon hearing your words.

“That’s good to hear”, he says quietly, calling your attention and in return making you turn your head to him.

“Sorry? I couldn’t understand you right now, the wind’s so loud.”

“I just…I just said that it’s good to hear that, uhm, life’s awesome here. Maybe I picked the right town.”

“You definitely did. You’ll love it here. The people here are so nice and always ready to help.”

Yoongi smiles and this time around, you see it.

“That’s good to hear”, he says and after one second of letting his eyes linger on your face, he turns his head away again, studying the passing scenery instead.

You do the same after picking up Levi, who just moments ago started protesting about getting his feet dirty. He can’t stand having to clean wet dirt from his feet. It tastes terrible and sticks to his fur way too vehemently.

“Did you move here alone?” Yoongi asks you then.

You sneak a glance his way. What a weird question.

“Uhm…”

“I mean if you are living together with your husband or boyfriend or friends or family. You know?”

“A husband?” you snort and chuckle, “no, I’m as single as a pringle.”

“I see”, he averts his gaze to the ground, “that’s cool. I’m single too.”

You knit your brows, studying his features. He is blushing vividly, lower lip trembling to stop a smile from creeping up. Is he interested in you? Is this creepy or not? You can’t really decide.

“That’s uhm…cool?” you say.

“Sorry”, Yoongi says instantly, “I don’t know why I just told you that. TMI, I know”, he laughs nervously, scratching the side of his neck again.

“No, it’s fine”, you assure him.

Maybe he is so weird because he is nervous. After all, he is trying to keep up small talk with a stranger and that is quite frankly something very nerve wrecking to do. Everyone is a little weird in such situations.

It isn’t that far home anymore. You can already see it, just down that road. The river is grey and wild as if it is expecting the thunderstorm already. The dark tiles of the Old House are shaking in the storm. From here you can even see the big hole in the back of the house. Yoongi had put a green tarp on it, securing it with wooden planks. And you can see your house shining through the restless branches of the willow trees, calling you to safety and warmth.

“How are the renovations going? I see you already put a tarp on the roof”, you ask Yoongi, looking at him.

“They are going, let’s just say it like that. I ripped out all the rotten floors already and insulated the walls, I’m going to repair the roof next, but I have to wait for the new tiles and beams to arrive until then I have to live with a big hole in my bedroom”, Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head, “thank god for the surprisingly warm nights or else I would probably freeze my butt off.”

“I see, that sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yes, but I don’t see it as such. I really like fixing things.”

“I see”, you have to chuckle at a memory, “you know, you’re something of a celebrity here because people can’t believe that someone was crazy enough to buy your place.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well, have you seen it?” you laugh, “it’s the most rundown house in the village and people have already been making bets of whether it will fall down during a storm or randomly collapse one night.”

Yoongi chuckles, “it’s actually not as bad as it seems. The evaluators said that the foundations and the framing are in very good condition and that most of the damage is on the surface.”

“Oh? So you did actually do your job before buying the old junkyard?” you joke, eliciting a shy laugh from him.

“Yes, I did. Almost two months the entire process took me, but now I’m finally here and ready to live.”

“That’s nice.”

Yoongi gives you a shy smile, blushing just slightly.

“Do you have furniture in there?” you ask him.

Yoongi nods his head, “not many though, but I have my trusty old sleeping bag, so I’m fine. I sold most of my furniture when I moved. It didn’t really fit the aesthetic I’m trying to go with. It was too modern for my taste.”

“But I saw the moving van a few times.”

“That was just to get my all my tools and building machines down here”, he pauses and sneaks a glance your way, “and my clothes too, of course. And some of the essentials like my couch and my piano and all of my memorabilia of course.”

“Okay, that makes sense.”

“And for the furniture, I’m planning on building my own”, he explains proudly, cheeks glowing.

“You can build furniture?” you can’t help but sound impressed.

“I mean”, he scratches his neck, looking away shyly, “I’m trying.”

“May I ask if you have some sort of training in renovating houses? You seem to know so much.”

“No uhm, I just really enjoy fixing stuff or building it with my own hands. Everything I know I taught myself.”

“Wow, impressive.”

“Thank you.”

Loud thunder grumbles above your heads at the same time as a bright bold of lightning strikes one of the mountains in the far distance. You both yelp up in surprise, groaning in annoyance when rain starts to fall down a moment later.

“Great, now my cement is going to be ruined”, Yoongi whines, shielding his face with his hand.

“You don’t have to wait for me, you can run if you want to”, you tell him, quickening your steps to catch up with him.

“No, it’s ruined either way. Ah crap”, Yoongi scoffs, “nevermind. It wasn’t that much anyway, I’ll just have to open a new bag then.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it”, he sends you a quick smile, taking a step closer to you afterwards, “here, let’s share”, he offers, taking off his flannel to cover both of your heads with it.

“I-“, you look at him, cheeks heating up without you even wanting them to, “-thanks.”

He sends you a shy smile, humming.

The rain keeps pouring down on the two of you, soaking Yoongi’s flannel and every part of your bodies which aren’t covered by it.

You are going to take the longest and warmest shower once you are home, despite the safety of Yoongi’s flannel, you feel frozen.

Yoongi seems to feel the same, teeth clattering quietly and lips turning blue. He is just in a t-shirt after all, no wonder he is cold.

“By the way”, Yoongi begins, “I wanted to tell you last week already, but I didn’t get a chance to do so. Nothing major happened when you caused the short.”

“Really? What a relief, I was already waiting for you to send me a bill of like a million bucks”, you joke.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head, “it’s nothing major. The doorbell was just too old and when you pressed it, the wires kind of blew and that’s what caused the bypass. But I replaced it, so now if you want to visit me, it’s safe to ring.”

“So I won’t get electrocuted to death if I press it?”

He smiles and shakes his head.

“No, it’s safe to touch.”

“Good to know, thank you for telling me”, you chuckle.

He chuckles too with the tip of his nose turning rosy.

The wind has picked up immensely. You and him are holding the flannel together, clutching your pets to your chests in order to keep them safe. And while Holly seems to enjoy his time in his father’s arms, Levi is hissing at the rain for ruining his fur. That will take him at least three hours to clean. Oh how he hates the rain.

“I also wanted to tell you that the cookies you brought over were amazing”, Yoongi breaks the silence.

“You tried them?”

“I didn’t just try them, I ate all of them.”

“And you liked them?”

“Yes, very much so. I really like chocolate and nuts in cookies, but you probably know this already.”

“Huh? How should I know this?”

He blinks rapidly, cheeks heating up.

“I, I mean. Who doesn’t? It's the number one thing one can put into cookies. At least I always bake my cookies that way. Chocolate and nuts and lots of sugar. Butter too, one can’t forget the butter", he explains and laughs nervously.

“Okay true, you got me there”, you agree.

“Where did you buy them? I need to get a few for the future.”

“From my tea shop. It’s just down by the pharmacy.”

“You own a tea shop?” Yoongi gasps and widens his eyes.

You nod your head, “yup and it’s the best in the village”, you say, smiling proudly.

Yoongi studies your features a moment longer before he scoffs and chuckles softly.

“I never thought that this is what you are doing”, he murmurs.

“Why? Do I not look like it?”

“I just- “, he clears his throat awkwardly, “- sorry if this was rude, but you don’t strike me as a tea maker or a cookie baker for that matter.”

“Wow”, you laugh, “as what do I strike you then?”

Yoongi squints his eyes at you and licks over his lips.

“Something with offices. A firm maybe?”

You laugh again.

“As a matter of fact, I worked in a bank a few years ago.”

“You did? Wow, look at me basically getting it right.”

He makes you laugh once again.

“Why did you quit?”

“Oh, that’s a far too long story for today”, you dismiss him.

“I have time. I can’t do anything in this bloody rain anyway.”

“No really, it’s too complicated”, you insist.

“Very well”, he smiles shyly, “another time then.”

You and him have reached the crossroad. While Yoongi needs to take the few meters up the road to get to his house, you need to take the opposite direction down the road and over the river. You and him stop, looking left and right before meeting each other’s gaze in the middle.

“Should I walk you home?” he offers.

“It’s just over the bridge.”

“That’s far enough for you to get wet.”

His gaze looks welcoming and sweet. You can’t find anything creepy in it. And he already knows where you lived either way, what bad could come out of him making sure that you stayed as dry as possible.

“Alright, if you insist.”

Yoongi nods his head and gives you a determined look. You think that it is a cute look because it makes his lips stick out in a pout. He steps closer then and fixes the flannel so you and Levi would get more of it.

“Let’s go”, he tells you almost shyly.

The river is angry under your feet as you cross it, loud and white from all the waves and swirls the rain rouses. Levi shifts in your grasp, digging his claws into your shirt. He will never forgive you if you dropped him right now. He would literally slash up every piece of furniture in your house as revenge.

“Your cat really doesn’t like rain, does he?” Yoongi asks.

You sneak a glance down at Levi and chuckle.

“No, he really hates it. It makes his fur all grubby”, you say and roll your eyes, “he’s such a big crybaby.”

Yoongi laughs and you feel yourself enjoying the sound of it. It was deep and calm just like his voice. And while you didn’t quite understand the reason for your liking of his laugh, you truly did and already missed it the moment he stopped laughing to sneak a glance your way instead.

“Holly likes the rain. He likes jumping into puddles”, he says and sighs dramatically, “he’s always so dirty afterwards.”

You chuckle, stomach tingling when this makes Yoongi laugh again.

“That’s adorable. Does he like baths too?”

“He’s alright with them. It depends on how tired his walk has gotten him. If he’s really spent then he just let’s them happen, if not then it’s utter chaos getting him clean.”

You chuckle.

“And Levi? Does he like baths?”

“He actually does?” you say and laugh, “I have no idea if my cat’s broken, but he never really complains when I have to bathe him.”

“Wow, that sounds so not at all like something a cat would like.”

“Yeah, right?” you agree, “it’s probably because he’s such a neat freak”, you joke, once again feeling tingly when this makes Yoongi laugh.

You probably would have continued joking with each other, hadn’t you arrived at your front door so abruptly.

“Oh?” you say and look up at your house, “we’re already here?”

Yoongi mirrors your stance and licks over his lips to wet them.

“Seems like it.”

“Very well then”, you turn to Yoongi, “thank you for keeping me dry.”

You and him look down at your mostly wet bodies.

“As best as possible at least”, you joke, earning yourself a shy chuckle from him.

“No worries”, he smiles, “thanks for showing me the way. I would probably still be wandering around in the mountains without you.”

You chuckle, “I’m glad I could help”, you say and smile.

The water has soaked his hair by now, making his honey blonde strands stick to his forehead.

“Hey, wait here for a little”, you tell him, unlocking your door and disappearing inside.

You set down Levi, who zooms away in an instant to warm himself next to the radiator and grab your umbrella, then you open the front door again to a shivering Yoongi.

“Here, take this. I know you don’t have long to go, but it’s better than getting completely soaked.”

Yoongi accepts the umbrella with a shy blush on his cheeks.

“Thank you”, he murmurs, eyes sparkling as he locks his gaze with yours.

It makes your heart skip a beat and your chest feel nervous. He looks really cute right now, which was something very weird to say about a stranger, who you have only talked to twice. But he looked cute, because his cheek were really round and his eyes so friendly.

“Don’t mention it”, you dismiss him and lower your gaze, “uhm either way. I’ll go now.”

“Okay”, he shifts from one foot to the other, “I had lots of fun today.”

You lift your gaze, eyes widening slightly at his words.

“You had fun?” you make sure that you have heard him right.

Yoongi smiles and nods his head.

“It was nice to talk to another human for a change. You know, I like talking to Holly, but one will grow tired of barks with time.”

“Oh yeah”, you agree with a chuckle, “I get that.”

You shift from one foot to the other, eyes glued to his delicate features.

“I had fun too”, you tell him.

His eyes light up in a shy smile.

“I’m glad you did”, he whispers.

Then he steps back and finally opens the umbrella. He twirls it twice, pulling it over his head afterwards. The colour matches with that of his soaked flannel.

“Thank you again”, he says, sneaking a glance up at the umbrella, “I’ll cherish it.”

“I want it back though.”

Yoongi chuckles and nods his head.

“I’ll return it, don’t worry”, he says and takes a few steps, “see you around ___.”

“See you.”

And with that he turns to stroll up the road and over the bridge. You watch him until he takes a sharp turn to the right and your weeping willow blocks him from your view.

You close the door with a funny feeling in your stomach.

“Why did I feel so comfortable with him?” you whisper, touching your chest. It was as if you had known him for years already.

Levi appears in the hallway then and meows loudly. And like that your attention shifts to your cat.

“What? Don’t tell me you are hungry already?”

Levi meows, turns and leads you to the kitchen with confidence in his walk.

“Fine, I’ll give you something. Geez, you are such a greedy cat.”

The rain continues until long into the next day. Luckily for you, you owned two umbrellas or else your walk to your tea shop would have been terribly wet this morning. Once you had put on your frog green rainboots and the matching raincoat, you left your cottage for a fun day of work. Like always you passed by the Old House, slowing down your steps in hopes of getting a sneaky glance at your peculiar yet sweet neighbour. You spot the bag of cement in an instant, it is resting under a family of trees and paints the grass around it in a dreary grey. Poor Yoongi, so he really wasn’t able to save it. You look at the windows then. In one of them light is shining. You wonder if this is the room he was currently in and if he was, what sort of work he was currently busy with. But because you were already running terribly late for work, you weren’t able to spend lots of time wondering about the possibilities of his renovations. So you continued your walk to your bakery with a certain bounce in your steps.

Hoseok was already inside. So was Jimin, judging by his bike seeking refuge under your canopy. They weren’t in the front of the bakery right now.

“Good morning guys!” you call out loudly as you enter the shop.

You leave your umbrella by the door and slip out of your rain clothes. You always keep a pair of spare slippers in the tea shop. The really comfortable kind, the ones shaped like a rabbit and with soft fake fur inside. They also made a little jingling sound as you walked, which was honestly the best thing about them.

It was really toasty inside. Hoseok must have turned the heater on. It was a nice feeling, one that left you sighing in relief. You hadn’t even noticed how frozen your limbs were. The radio is already turned on too, playing slow piano music. So Hoseok turned on your “playlist for rainy days”, it makes you smile because he knows all your traditions so well already.

From somewhere a steady buzz was coming too. It doesn’t make you wonder where or what, because you already know exactly what that sound was or where it was coming from for that matter.

“Good morning guys”, you enter the small but cozy backroom, meeting your two employees.

Hoseok is currently blow drying Jimin’s hair, making the latter whine in complaint because of his continuous tugging.

“Oh?” Hoseok turns, “good morning boss!” he exclaims loudly and bows more than ninety degrees, completely forgetting about the blowdryer in his hand and blowing the hot air directly into your face.

“Hoseok”, you laugh, shielding yourself.

“Mhm?” he lifts his head, “oh! I’m so sorry I completely forgot!” he hides the blowdryer behind his back, “sorry for that.”

“Hyuuung”, Jimin whines behind the two of you, squinting his eyes as the new position now makes the hot air blow into his face.

“Oops”, Hoseok gasps and points the blowdryer at the floor, “I didn’t see you there. Sorry Jiminie, you okay?”

“Yes I am”, Jimin pouts, “continue hyung, I don’t want to have half my hair still wet.”

“Yeah, yeah sure”, Hoseok stutters and continues what he had started.

You make yourself comfortable on the rocking chair in the meantime, watching them work.

“Isn’t today beautiful?” you ask them.

“It would be if I didn’t have to take my bike here all the way from the mountain”, Jimin says.

“I know I saw. That sucks. Where are your wet clothes?”

“Drying over the heater.”

You look over your shoulder. He was right. Jimin’s and Hoseok’s clothes are currently drying, tripping water on the floor.

“Thank god for the spare clothes, aye?”

“Seriously”, Hoseok agrees, “I took the vespa today and got soaked to the bones.”

“Mhm that sucks.”

You watch Hoseok gather Jimin’s now dry hair into a little bundle at the top and then secure it with a bright pink hair tie. It makes him laugh because he thinks that Jimin now looks like a sprout. Jimin in return pouts and whines.

“I met my neighbour again.”

Their eyes flit to you.

“The creepy one?” Hoseok squeaks, widening his eyes.

“Exactly that one. Although he wasn’t that creepy actually. We met on our walk and shared his flannel.”

“What?”

“Yeah we got rained on and so he took off his flannel and we used it as a makeshift umbrella. He is actually really sweet.”

Jimin and Hoseok exchange a look.

“I mean it. He is a little weird, but he told me that he is kind of nervous and shy.”

Jimin and Hoseok exchange another look.

Jimin clicks his tongue and stands up from his chair.

“You’re weird”, he says, leaving the break room afterwards.

“Hey! Don’t judge me, I think it was a very sweet gesture and also he has a dog.”

“Okay he has a dog, that changes everything”, Hoseok says honestly, “only good people can have dogs.”

“Exactly what I am saying. Having a dog equals being a good person”, you agree.

Jimin snorts and laughs.

“You both are naïve idiots, you know that?”

You and Hoseok pout, crossing your arms at the same time.

“He used the baby voice Jimin.”

“He did?” Hoseok gasps, “see? Using baby voice equals being a good person.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Fine, maybe he is a good person”, he gives up with a fond chuckle.

Your day at the teashop begins after that. Mrs Oh and her husband visit you like always, chatting you up about the strong rain today and how that will bring bad luck in autumn. Later the mayor comes around, wearing an umbrella hat like it was the most normal outfit choice, it earned him a loud-spoken compliment from Hoseok, who had almost dropped the mayor’s oolong from gawking too much. And around lunch break Miss Jang and Sooha come around, the little girl’s pants are already soaked in water, “it’s from all the puddle hopping she is doing” so her mother let you know. Hoseok, Jimin and you go to the old Choi for lunch, sharing your umbrella because neither of the guys brought their own and open the tea shop two hours later again, ready to welcome your afternoon guests.

There isn’t much traffic in the tea shop today. The rain became stronger in the afternoon and most tourists stayed in their hotels a few miles from here. You can’t blame them, only mad lads would wander around the mountains in such weather.

So to find something other to do than waiting, the three of you began sorting through every drawer to clean them thoroughly. Hoseok got tea herb drawer duty and you and Jimin got kitchen duty.

You are currently sorting through the many different kinds of herbs after Jimin called you over in panic to let you know that he was missing his ground cumin.

“I could have sworn it was there with the basil”, Jimin murmurs, emptying the basket a third time to begin reading the labels again.

“Maybe I put it with the sweet herbs when I cleaned?” you say, reaching for the second spice basket to sort through it.

“I hope we’ll find it. It will be a catastrophe if we don’t.”

You snort, putting down the glass filled with cinnamon.

“I don’t think people will taste the difference Jimin.”

“Oh trust me, they will. The bread is going to be ruined without it.”

“Fine I trust your judgement. You keep looking, I’ll see if Hoseok found it maybe.”

“Yeah do that, thank you boss”, Jimin murmurs absentmindedly as he is way too busy with reading the different labels.

Hoseok is chatting with a customer when you come out of the back. He must have been in the middle of cleaning out the drawer with the different kinds of black teas as the boxes are still on the counter.

“Good afternoon”, you greet the customer, making Hoseok turn around.

“Oh! Ma’am there you are. I was just about to get you”, he says.

“Get me? Why? Is there a problem?” you ask, ready to fight.

You don’t get rude customers often, maybe once or twice a month. But you are always ready to throw them out with a broom in your hands and some curse words on your lips. Maybe that is also the reason why you don’t get rude customers very often. Everyone in the village respected you and your broom fighting skills enough to not be rude to you and those few tourists, who do try to be rude to you or your employees get scared off enough that they won’t return.

Today’s rude customer however turns out to be the complete opposite of rude.

“You?”

“Hey there”, Yoongi greets you with a shy smile. He was wearing a headband today, which he had pulled down all the way to his eyebrows and over his ears. It must be against the cold wind.

“Hey, wow what a surprise. What are you doing here?” you ask, claiming your spot next to Hoseok by the counter.

“I came here to return this”, he says and lifts his arm to present your yellow umbrella to you.

You take a look outside at the pouring rain.

“You picked out a good time for that, didn’t you?”

Yoongi blushes and lowers his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. Honest speaking, I was hoping to get something to eat and drink too. My stove is acting up because of the storm and I just need something warm.”

“Did you come by old the old Choi’s restaurant? He has the best soups out there. You’ll feel warm in no time”, you tell him.

“I did yeah, but it was stuffed. So I asked for the next food place and he sent me to your tea shop. What are the odds? I didn’t think that it would be your tea shop.”

“Well, we are the only tea shop and bakery in this village”, you grin, “but worry not, you came to the right place. We offer food too. Problem is that it’s only breakfast food.”

Yoongi grins shyly.

“That’s great. I-I’ll just sit by that table then?” he says, well asks, and points at the two seat table by the heater.

“Yup, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be with you shortly.”

You watch Yoongi waddle over to the table and sit down. He watches the rainfall, fumbling with his fingers nervously. Then you turn to Hoseok.

“Do you know this guy?” he asks you in a whisper.

“That’s the guy, who bought the Old House.”

“That’s him? The creep?” he gasps loudly.

“Sssh”, you shush him.

“Oops.”

You both look over at Yoongi. He doesn’t seem to have heard you, still busy with watching the rain build puddles in front of your tea shop.

“He doesn’t look like a creep and he was really nice when he came in here. He even cleaned off his shoes”, Hoseok whispers, studying Yoongi from head to toe.

“He did?” you turn you and Hoseok around, “I don’t think he’s a creep either. Although it’s a little weird that he wants to return my umbrella when it’s pouring outside.”

“Right? That’s weird, but maybe he is just weird? You know there are people who are weird.”

“Are there?”

“Yeah like you remember that time Taehyung rode into town on a bull?”

“Okay yeah that was weird”, you say and laugh softly at the memory.

“Maybe he is that weird. You know? Taehyung weird, the type where you just live your life and don’t care what other people think?”

“Maybe he is that type of weird”, you agree and scratch your chin, “that’d be a cute kind of weird. I like people, who are like that.”

“Me too”, Hoseok agrees and grins, “you’re like that too.”

“Hey”, you nudge his tummy, “you go help Jimin find his ground cumin in the kitchen.”

“Jimin lost his cumin? Good riddance I found it with the white teas”, Hoseok exclaims and storms off to return the lost spice.

You make your way over to Yoongi with a menu in your hand.

“Hey there”, you greet him, making him raise his head.

“Hello”, he smiles, showing off his gums.

“There you go, our food menu. Do you know what you want to drink?”

“Uhm, do you have iced Americano?”

“We don’t, no. We’re a tea shop. We only sell tea.”

“Aaah I see”, he says and blushes, “I’m sorry that was rude.”

“It really wasn’t”, you assure him.

He blushes and lowers his eyes.

“How about I’ll give you a few minutes to make your decision and then I’ll come back?”

“Yes, okay do that. Thank you”, he says, nodding his head.

You clean the counter of the boxes of black tea in the meantime, sorting them all back in their drawer and closing said drawer afterwards. You send Yoongi a quick glance to see if he is finished. He seems like he was, he is looking at you with his lips slightly parted.

“Finished?”

He nods his head, making his hair bounce up and down. You grab your pen and paper and hurry back to him.

“Sooo. What can I get you?”

“Uhm can I get the egg sandwich with bacon and a big cup of chai latte?” he says, dragging his fingers over the words of his order.

“Of course. Anything else?”

“No, uhm actually”, he squints his eyes and pouts, “yeah…can I get the strawberry rice cake too?”

“Yes, of course.”

He closes the menu.

“That’s it”, he lets you know.

“Alrighty, it will be with you shortly”, you say with a smile and take the menu to hurry to the kitchen.

Hoseok and Jimin are chatting vividly with each other.

“I’m not paying you to chit chat am I?”

Hoseok straightens his back.

“I’m sorry ma’am! I was just telling Jimin about the guy who bought the Old House” he exclaims, bowing ninety degrees.

It makes you laugh.

“Relax, I was only joking”, you assure him, “Jimin dear, prepare an egg sandwich with bacon please.”

“On it boss!” he says and hurries to the stove.

“Can I do something too?” Hoseok asks.

“Did you finish cleaning?”

He shakes his head, “I’ll go finish right away.”

“Thanks Hoseok, you’re a star.”

You in the meantime are busy with preparing Yoongi’s tea and plating the strawberry rice cake in a pretty manner. You bring both of them to him, feeling yourself burn up under his soft gaze.

“There we go. The sandwich will be with you shortly.”

“Don’t worry, I have time.”

“Yeah? How are renovations going?”

“Going”, he laughs nervously, “the rain is kind of making it impossible to work today because I spent the entire day stuffing leaks”, he sighs, “it was so exhausting.”

“I can imagine.”

“But my living room and sunroom are officially free of leaks now.”

“Oh that’s good to hear”, you say and give him a grin, one which he returns.

“And you? How is the tea shop going?”

“It’s going. We don’t get many customers when it rains, but that’s alright. We just use the time to clean.”

“Mhhm”, he nods his head, “cleaning’s important too.”

“That it is, yes.”

You and him fall silent then, making eye contact. It makes you nervous.

“Either way uhm”, you begin, “I’ll see if your sandwich is finished by now.”

“Mhm”, he hums and nods his head.

As a matter of fact the sandwich was finished and waiting to be served.

“So the Old House”, Jimin begins as he watches you come inside, “Hoseok told me that some young guy bought it?”

“Is this your not so subtle hint at asking me to take a look?” you ask him in a laugh.

“You saw right through me”, Jimin says and gets rid of his apron to follow you outside, “Hoseok told me that you know him?”

“I don’t, what lies is he spreading again? I just talked to him a little yesterday.”

“I see, I see. Good afternoon!” Jimin calls out, making Yoongi raise his head.

Yoongi smiles nervously and raises his hand to wave.

“Hello”, he says quietly, lowering his eyes a second later.

“I heard you purchased the Old House.”

Yoongi clears his throat, tilting his head to the side in question.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the junkyard of a house you’re renovating.”

“Oh”, Yoongi looks to the ground, “I guess so.”

"How are renovations going?" 

Yoongi nods his head vigorously and gives Jimin a nervous smile. It doesn’t show his teeth but makes his cheeks puff out. 

"I see, that's good to hear", Jimin says loudly and gives him a thumbs-up. Then he turns to you. 

“Aaaw he is weird, that’s adorable”, Jimin coos quietly, looking at you.

“Don’t be rude, he’s still a customer”, you warn him.

Then you make your way over to Yoongi with his sandwich, putting it down in front of him.

“There we go, your egg sandwich with bacon.”

“Thank you”, he murmurs.

The tip of his nose is blushing.

“Don’t worry about Jimin. He’s very chatty.”

Yoongi looks up at you.

“Oh no, uhm, it’s fine.”

You give him a sweet smile, “alrighty then. Enjoy your meal.”

“Thank you.”

You turn to leave him.

“___!”

“Yes?”

“Hey uhm”, he begins and stands up, “I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah, uhm here.”

He presents a bouquet of flowers to you. They had been resting next to the umbrella the entire time.

“It’s a thank you present for letting me borrow your umbrella”, he explains with a deep red blush on his cheeks and nose.

“Gosh, that’s sweet. Thank you”, you say and accept them. Your heart is fluttering in that funny way again, just like it did yesterday when he offered to share his flannel.

You inspect the flowers.

“Wow, those are my favourites! How did you know?” you gasp with a sparkle in your eyes.

He grins sweetly.

“You strike me as a woman, who enjoys tulips so I went with my gut instinct.”

You sneak a glance at him and smile.

“Your gut instinct was totally right. You even got my favourite colour right.”

“Wow. Look at me nailing the flower buying”, he jokes and makes you laugh in the process.

“You did, thank you. I’ll put them in water right away.”

Yoongi sits down again and lowers his head to his food, eating it with a shy glow on his cheeks. You study him for a moment. What a peculiar guy he is. Sweet, yet really peculiar.

Hoseok and Jimin are wiggling their brows at you as you make your way back to the counter.

“Shush”, you hiss, rolling your eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t know him? He seems to know you pretty well”, Hoseok teases you.

“Shush, go back to your cleaning.”

Jimin snickers.

“And you rascal, go back to your bread. The Lees are coming over in an hour and expect three loafs.”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m already off”, Jimin cackles and hurries back to the kitchen.

Yoongi spends the rest of the day in the tea shop, sitting by the window and watching the rain. He doesn’t really disturb you or try to talk to you. He just sits still and looks outside. At some points he was even that inconspicuous that you had to sneak a glance over at his spot to see if he was still there. He was, because every time you did, he quickly averted his gaze back outside and started blushing like crazy. Okay maybe he wasn’t just watching the rain, but apparently you as well. And for some unexplainable reason you found it more sweet than creepy.

Just like announced, the Lees arrived to obtain their three loafs of warm bread. And twenty minutes before closing, the mayor makes a surprise visit for an after work cherry white tea. You chat with him for a little, offering him the last slice of today’s raspberry pie for free because he is such a loyal customer. He thanks you with a delighted yelp and a clap into his hands, “and that is why you are the best bakery my dear Miss”, he laughs and takes a hearty bite of the sweet treat, “oh lovely as always.”

The mayor leaves five minutes after closing, promising you an extra five bucks the next time he comes over. One for every minute he kept you waiting. Then it was already time to close up.

“So that was a good day, wasn’t it guys”, you say, turning the sign from open to closed.

“Uuuh boss? What about him?” Jimin asks.

The three of you turn to the table by the heater where Yoongi is staring at you with big eyes.

“Is it time for me to go?” he asks shyly.

“Wait, you've been here the entire time?” Hoseok gasps.

Yoongi nods wordlessly.

“I didn’t even see him”, he whispers then speaks to Yoongi, “I didn’t even see you.”

“Yeah”, Yoongi laughs nervously, “I’m told that I’m kind of invisible”, he lowers his eyes and scratches the back of his head, “sorry, I’m just going to leave”, he whispers and stands up, gathering all his belongings messily. 

The three of you exchange a look. 

“Hey, do you want to walk home together with ___?” Jimin offers, who feels pity at the man.

Yoongi’s head snaps up, his widened eyes falling on you.

“I-I’ve already exhausted my stay here. I-it’s fine.”

“No hey, it’s fine. Let’s walk together. At least like that you can give me my umbrella”, you assure him.

“Okay”, he whispers and fumbles with the hem of his wind jacket.

“I’ll just put on my rain clothes and then we can go.”

Once changed, the four of you make your way outside. Jimin says his goodbye with a warm smile on his face, racing up the hills in the pouring rain with his eyes squinted together. You can hear the curses he lets out through every alleyway in the village. Some people even answer him with a “hey Mister Park don’t you want to come inside for a bit?” or a loud “Mister Park we have stew, wanna have some till the rain stops?” He dismisses them all with a friendly “thank you so much, but I have soup waiting at home!” before continuing his endless journey in the rain to his little mountain cottage.

It is Hoseok’s turn to leave next. Like always he bows way too deeply.

“See you tomorrow ma’am!”

“See you Hobi. You be careful with that Vespa of yours. I don’t want you speeding in the rain like that.”

“Yes ma’am! I’ll be careful ma’am!” he exclaims and nods obediently.

“Fine, go”, you laugh, “gosh you and your manners.”

Hoseok bows at you one last time then gets on his motor roller and speeds away far too quickly. You snort and shake your head.

“That rascal is going to hurt himself one day.”

“Is he always driving that recklessly?”

You have to be honest. You completely forgot about Yoongi’s presence next to you. You flinch and turn. Good god, it really is as if he was invisible.

“Yeah most of the time”, you tell him and laugh.

“That’s not good, he’ll hurt himself one day.”

“Right? Gosh I’m telling him all the time”, you sigh, “but enough chitter chatter, let’s get home”, you say and open your umbrella.

You step into the rain, enjoying the sound of it hitting your umbrella. You turn to Yoongi, who still seems a little unsure.

“Come on, I don’t want to walk back in darkness.”

He nods his head and obeys, opening his umbrella and stepping into the rain with you. Then you begin your walk, staying silent most of the time. There was just something about Yoongi, that made you feel like staying silent wouldn’t be uncomfortable. And you were right, the silence between you and him was so familiar that it was comfortable. Which was something very peculiar, considering you didn’t know him. Maybe it was the aura he had around him. Calmness and tranquillity. He keeps at least an arms length of distance the entire time, sneaking glances at you every now and then. To your surprise he is the one to actually break the silence after the second hill you crossed.

“The egg sandwich was very yummy.”

“Yeah?” you look at him instead of the puddles on the path, “I saw you enjoying it a lot.”

“I did”, he nods his head, “it was very good. The bacon was very crispy and the egg runny. Also the cheese was good.”

You smile, “thank you. I’ll tell Jimin about your liking of his sandwich.”

“Is Jimin the blonde man with the bike?”

“Yes, that' Jimin. He is my baker slash cook and a total sweetheart. He lives in the mountains with his cats and also sells herbal oils and ointments in his freetime. Most of the herbs we use at the bakery are from his garden.”

“Ooh so he is like a witch?”

You laugh, making him blush.

“Actually now that you say it like that, he is like a witch isn’t he?”

“A-and the red haired guy?”

“That is Hoseok. My right hand man and the best oolong tea maker in the country. He lives in the neighbouring village with his dog Mickey.”

“Does he also grow herbs?”

“No”, you laugh again, “but he does collect stones.”

“So he is like a witch too? You know the kind that does magic with crystals?” Yoongi jokes, making you laugh.

“Damn, I think you’ve looked right through them”, you joke, earning yourself a shy chuckle from him.

Yoongi kicks an imaginary stone.

“I’m sorry for taking up so much space the entire day today.”

“Huh?”

“Because of me your customers couldn’t sit by the heater. So I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no worries. I have many other tables too, besides you saw how abandoned the village was today. You didn’t take up space.”

“Okay that’s good to hear”, he says and lowers his head.

“Also. I’m happy that you enjoyed my tea shop so much that you wanted to stay for the entire day. It’s an honour really.”

Yoongi smiles, showing off his gums.

“You have a pretty tea shop.”

“Well thank you. Yes, it’s very pretty.”

“Did you buy it?”

“I did yes, the previous owner retired and I turned it into a tea shop which also sells baked goods. And just last year I was able to expand and finally build the outside pavilion I always wanted.”

“That’s cool, I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah”, you smile, “although I must say that my milk fridge is a piece of crap.”

“How’s that?”

“Oh well you know, it’s never keeping my milk cool. So I have to run all the way to my cooler room if I want to get milk.”

“Mhm I see, that sucks.”

“Yeah it does”, you say and chuckle, “that’s such a first world problem though, so don’t worry about it.”

“Mhm.”

You fall silent after that. You are so comfortable with him. It is so weird. You haven’t been that comfortable with anyone in a long time. Not even all your amazing friends you made in the village. You sneak a glance at Yoongi, who is busy staring at the puddles on the ground. Even now he radiates calmness, like a cat napping by a fire or the dancing of leaves in a summer’s breeze.

You sigh and turn to look at the path ahead of you. The rain has washed up dirt, forming a little stream down the grassy hills to the river. Poor flowers, they are going to be all squished under the water.

You arrive at Yoongi’s house a few moments later. You join him as he takes the path under his trees to his front door.

“Uhm”, he turns, “I don’t know if there is much to offer, but do you want to come inside?” he offers, scratching the back of his neck.

“No, it's fine. I need to feed Levi before he plots eating my face in my sleep as revenge for keeping him waiting.”

Yoongi laughs and lowers his eyes.

“Okay then, uhm”, he closes the umbrella and hands it back to you. The little canopy is keeping him from becoming wet, “thank you so much for the umbrella and also the nice day. I had lots of fun.”

You smile, “I had fun too Yoongi. Also if you ever need an umbrella again let me know, I’m just over the river.”

“I will”, he says and clears his throat, “so uhm…goodbye for now?”

“Yup, see you around”, you tell him with a smile and turn to leave, “bye bye Yoongi!”

“Bye bye!” he calls after you, watching you skip down his garden path.

Hoseok circles you, moving to the melody of the funk song on the radio while you are using the broom as a makeshift microphone. Jimin, busy with toppling over in laughter, gives the two of you his occasional round of applause.

Today was a good day. You woke up with the sunlight on your face and with Levi cuddled to your side, ate a yummy breakfast and on your way to work you found a four-leaf clover. Said cloverleaf is resting in a little bowl of water next to the flowers Yoongi gave you two days ago.

“Park Jimin don’t just stand there and laugh, come over here”, Hoseok says, doing a little spin before dancing up to Jimin whilst wiggling his eyebrows.

“Why are you looking at me like you want to seduce me?” Jimin cackles, allowing Hoseok to take his.

“Maybe I am Jimin-ah”, Hoseok jokes.

Jimin laughs, which makes Hoseok laugh and in return makes you laugh.

The bell jingles.

Laughter stops, heads snap into the direction of the door.

“Good morning”, Yoongi says, carrying a toolbox.

Hoseok and Jimin stop dancing, holding onto each other as they look between you and Yoongi with bated breath.

“Oh hey uhm. What are you doing here? We’re not open yet”, you say, slightly out of breath from your early morning dance session.

Yoongi turns and looks at the sign.

“I did not see that I, I just s-saw you guys dancing inside so I, I thought you’re open”, he stutters with his cheeks beet red, "I-I'm sorry I'll just go again." 

"No hey it's fine", you stop him in a laugh, “we're going to open in ten either way. What do you want?”

“Uhm I, I came to fix your fridge. You, you told me about it”, he explains and lifts his toolbox.

“My fridge?” your brows shoot up in surprise, “you remembered that?”

He nods his head vigorously.

You can hear Jimin and Hoseok snicker behind you, it earns them a warning glare over your shoulder. Yoongi heard it too now really burning up in embarrassment.

“Sorry!” he blurts out, “that was very weird and you didn’t ask for my help, I’ll just leave.”

That earns Hoseok and Jimin another warning glare. They lower their heads in shame.

“No, hey, it’s alright. Come on, I'll show it to you.”

He nods his head vigorously and waddles after you. Jimin and Hoseok follow too, keeping their distance as they watch the two of you with knowing smirks.

“So here it is, the bastard”, you say and kick the little fridge under the counter softly, “it cost me more tears than anything else.”

“Aw hey don’t cry I’m here now, I’m sure I can fix it”, Yoongi says in that calming voice of his and that sweet smile of his on his lips.

Yoongi squats down and furrows his brows, opening the fridge to check for the temperature.

“Mhhm you’re right, it’s not cooling.”

“Yeah right? Urgh I’m going insane.”

Yoongi looks up at you, “don’t worry I can fix it.”

“Really? Are you serious?”

“Mhm”, he nods his head and smiles softly.

“I – “ you clap excitedly, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Yoongi lowers his gaze shyly and scrunches his nose up, “no worries.”

You would have loved to keep Yoongi company a little longer if it wasn’t time for the tea shop to open. Jimin disappears in the kitchen to prepare his world famous breakfast rice cakes, but not before whispering into your ear that “the Yoongi dude is totally whipped for you.” which earned him yet another warning glare from you.

Hoseok stays in the front, preparing the first cups of tea of the day. And while you are busy, hurrying around the shop to serve everyone, Yoongi is busy working on the fridge in silence. You don’t even really notice him, Hoseok even almost fell over the little dude at one point because he completely forgot about his presence. He made up for it by preparing Yoongi your tea shop's strongest black tea with milk. Yoongi accepted it with a shy thank you and drank it with quiet hums of approval.

You just said goodbye to Misses Kang and her daughter when Yoongi finally rises from the ground.

“I fixed it”, he murmurs.

You and Hoseok turn with widened eyes.

“Are you serious?” you gasp.

Yoongi nods his head.

“No way”, you laugh, squatting down to open the fridge. It is humming and purring just like it is supposed to and when you stick your hand inside the air feels a lot colder than outside, “holy moly, Hoseok he fixed the fridge!”

“Let me see”, Hoseok scrambles himself next to you, sticking his hand inside, “wooooooow, it’s cold again!”

You and him both stand up at the same time.

“Thank you so much Yoongi”, you say, almost falling around his neck in gratefulness, “how much do I owe you?”

“Oh no, uhm, it’s fine”, he dismisses you with a wave of his hand and a shy blush, “I like fixing things.”

“No hey, come on”, you take out money from your cash register, “please take it, I insist.”

Yoongi takes the money with a pout, stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue flannel. He looks around the teashop a little.

“Do you need something else fixed?” he asks.

“That one light is broken”, Hoseok says, earning himself a nudge into the stomach with your elbow.

“No, really please you already did so much”, you say, face burning up, “you can relax.”

Yoongi nods his head, grabs his toolbox and waddles to the light, “is it this one?” he asks, looking over his shoulder as he points at it.

“Yes it’s that one”, Hoseok says.

“Okay”, and with that Yoongi gets to work in complete silence.

“Hoseok, that wasn’t cool. I don’t want to take advantage of his kindness”, you hiss.

“Why? He clearly wants to help, so let him help”, Hoseok whispers and wiggles his brows.

“Stop wiggling your brows like that, it’s creepy.”

Hoseok wiggles them even more vigorously and smirks.

“He is a cutie isn’t he?” he teases.

You roll your eyes, “you go get the milk instead, now that we can finally use the fridge.”

“Yes ma’am”, Hoseok says in a snicker, disappearing in the back a moment later.

Yoongi works until it is time for your lunch break and even when you ask him if he wants to join you he denies and says that he will join you once he finishes his work.

He didn’t join you, as a matter of fact he stayed at the tea shop the entire time fixing all sorts of things. When you come back your squeaking door isn’t squeaking anymore, the faucet in the kitchen isn’t leaking anymore and the broken drawer door actually closes again. Yoongi was waiting outside, toolbox on his lap and eyes half-lidded as he was dozing in the sun, when you came back.

He jumped up the moment he heard your voice, fixing his bangs and giving you a little wave.

“Hello”, he says quietly.

“Hello there”, Jimin greets him and gives him a sweet smile, “you’re still here.”

Yoongi nods his head, “I wanted to make sure nobody broke in.”

The three of you laugh loudly.

“Oh trust me, nobody is going to break in here. The biggest crime we have here is Hoseok speeding like a maniac”, you say.

“Hey!” Hoseok complains with a pout.

You snicker, averting your gaze to Yoongi.

He begins blushing, “I fixed your lamp.” He doesn’t say anything about the other stuff he fixed too, merely because he didn’t find it necessary to boast with it. He did it to help you, nothing else.

“Really?”

“Yes, uhm”, he looks to his feet, “yes.”

“Yoongi…that really wasn’t necessary”, you say.

Jimin in the meantime had entered the teashop, wondering why the squeaking door wasn’t squeaking anymore.

“He fixed the door”, he murmurs and laughs, “damn, that guy is good.”

“Hey Yoongi, why don’t you come inside and I’ll make you one of my famous oolong?” Hoseok offers, placing his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder brotherly.

“Yes please”, Yoongi whispers, letting Hoseok drag him back inside. He also lets him sit him down on the most comfortable of chairs, still keeping his toolbox on his lap.

“Do you want to eat something too? I’ll mix you up some spicy rice cakes”, Jimin offers.

“It’s not necessary I-I can eat at home.”

“So that’s a yes”, Jimin grins, “spicy rice cakes coming right away.”

The boys hurry off to work on Yoongi’s treats while you stay by his table, giving him a soft smile.

“Thank you Yoongi, I really don’t deserve your kindness.”

“It’s fine, I like helping”, he says quietly, rubbing the side of his neck nervously.

You smile.

“What?” he asks.

“The village will like you Min Yoongi, you’re a sweetheart.”

“Oh”, he chokes out, head lowering in an instant, “thank you.”

“Mhm”, you let him know, hurrying off afterwards to serve one of your new customers.

Yoongi stays until he finished Jimin’s spicy rice cakes – which he liked a lot – and drank Hoseok’s famous oolong – which he also liked a lot – and ate the chocolate muffin you offered him, he liked it as well.

He leaves after that, saying his goodbye in a shy voice and sticking all the money you gave him into your tip jar. You didn’t notice that he did at first, only when the now-not-squeaky door closed behind him and you could only see him as a little blue spot on one of the hills.

Jimin leaves the kitchen, joining you and Hoseok.

“Did Yoongi leave?” he asks.

“Yeah….”, you whisper, staring out the window, “…and he left all the money I gave him”, you add, clutching it tighter.

“Damn”, Jimin laughs in disbelief, “he fixed the faucet in the kitchen, you know?”

“He did?”

“Mhm.”

“He fixed the broken cupboard too”, Hoseok says.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn guys”, you whisper before smiling like an idiot.

“He’s a good guy, people will like him here”, Jimin says to which you and Hoseok agree with an awed “yeah.”​