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toadprose · 3 months

Text

An Exchange of Endearments;

The one where a stolen phone united two people who were destined to meet. A story told through text messages.

☎ w.c: 3,1k

☎ pairing: ghost x soap // simon riley x john mactavish

☎ rating: pg

☎ archive of our own: link here

☎ genre: silliness, humor, fluff

☎ warnings: mention of an inappropriate app but only by name

☎ author's note: hello :) i wanted to experiment with writing a story in a different format. it's mainly just silly. there's only 3 chapters rn. i'm testing out different ways to end this fic but there will definitely be more chapters to come. thank you for reading! ALSO!! the plan was to have tho WHOLE fic like those imessage screenshots but they take too long to make and i am lazy so pls just use ur imagination

Soap: dumbass. how many times u gonna drop ur phone at exfil? this is the last time i’m saving ur new number, gaz. venmo me $6 for the tea or i’ll give it to that hot dog cart guy.

???: ?

???: Wrong number.

Soap: fuck. sorry, lad.

Soap: wait. this is gaz’s number. what the hell?

Soap: how did u get this phone

???: I stole it from a drunk guy in a bathroom.

Soap: …

Soap: what the fuck, man?

???: I think he left his phone there.

???: And I need one.

???: This works out fine.

Soap: where tf r u, i wanna yell at u

Soap: and ask if u want any help getting back home. were u drinkin too?

???: Why would I tell a complete stranger where I am?

Soap: fair enough.

???: Why do you care about the well-being of me, a phone thief?

Soap: im a big brother. always looking out for the little guys. even when theyre stealing phones.

???: I am not little.

Soap: ok then, big guy.

Soap: i know we just met and all, but maybe take ur new phone and get somewhere safe tonight. dont sleep on a park bench. or a strangers bed.

???: Who do you think I am, a hobo? I have a very nice home.

Soap: then why tf did u steal a phone in the first place?

???: Because I wanted one.

???: I did not have any money on me.

Soap: well now u do, so buy a fucking phone, mate.

???: But this one works fine.

Soap: and im not sure that the owner agrees with u

???: He will live.

Soap: not the point.

???: If he can afford this type of phone, he can afford another one.

Soap: not my argument

???: Are you saying I should buy my own phone?

Soap: yeah. thats literally what im saying.

???: But why, when this one is free.

Soap: jesus christ

???: And you can Venmo me the money instead.

Soap: ill venmo u my foot up ur arse.

???: I will pay you back.

???: You do not have to be mean.

Soap: how did u make me a dick in this conversation. i was trying to help.

???: Well, I still have the phone.

Soap: yea. but at what cost.

Soap: u got a name, phone thief?

???: Ghost.

Soap: is that ur name or are u hiding.

Ghost: Yes.

Soap: ok im calling the cops

Ghost: Please do not.

Ghost: I can explain.

Ghost: I can be normal.

Soap: not what i asked.

Soap: im joking. im not a cop.

Soap: but seriously, ghost. what the hell are u doing?

Ghost: Living.

Soap: not a lot of living happening in the bathroom of a bar, lad.

Ghost: I needed a new phone.

Ghost: And the bathroom was very clean.

Soap: thats it. im gonna go find u.

Soap: if u wont listen to reason then at least give me ur location.

Ghost: I would prefer if you didn't.

Ghost: I don't really enjoy meeting new people.

Soap: ur stuck with me now. i wanna meet the man who stole my mate's phone in a public restroom.

Ghost: Please, don't.

Soap: too late, i got u in find friends.

Ghost: WHAT

Ghost: WHY

Ghost: HOW

Ghost: WHEN

Ghost: DO NOT

Soap: relax, im joking.

Ghost: This is not funny.

Soap: a lil bit funny.

Ghost: Fuck you.

Ghost: Do not text this number again.

Soap: too bad.

Soap: this is my new favorite thing.

Ghost: This is not an entertainment device.

Soap: u made it into one when u took the phone.

Ghost: I should have stolen your phone.

Soap: yea. u prolly should have.

Soap: maybe u still can.

Ghost: No, thank you.

Soap: im so glad to hear ur manners kicked in at the end there.

Soap: i feel better knowing ur not a total dick.

Ghost: That's not what my mom tells me.

Soap: oh god.

Ghost: Sorry.

Ghost: I didn't mean to send that.

Ghost: It was a joke.

Ghost: A bad one.

Ghost: I will never send another inappropriate message.

Ghost: Please stop laughing.

Soap: i cant

Soap: my face hurts

Soap: ur so awkward

Soap: im dying

Ghost: Thank you for your feedback.

Ghost: Now please stop messaging me.

Soap: hey. gaz is rlly sad about his stolen phone. give it back.

Ghost: What is a gaz?

Soap: the drunk guy u stole the phone from a few days ago.

Ghost: That seems like his problem.

Soap: yeah. but if u give him the phone back, he might let me play with his new sniper rifle.

Ghost: Interesting.

Soap: he also has a big bag of jelly beans.

Ghost: I have his phone.

Soap: u wanna come over and trade it for the jelly beans?

Ghost: No.

Soap: :(

Ghost: Maybe.

Soap: yes!!

Ghost: You can have the phone.

Ghost: But only if you take a picture of him holding the jelly beans and send it to me.

Soap: that sounds easy enough.

Soap: do u like black liquorice?

Ghost: No.

Soap: good.

Ghost: ?

Soap: hey

Ghost: This is not Gaz's number.

Soap: i know. it’s urs and we’re friends now

Ghost: No, we aren't.

Soap: yes, we are.

Soap: if ur not gonna give the phone back, at least tell me a name i can put in the contact for this number

Ghost: No.

Soap: just gimme a name. or i'll make one up for u

Ghost: Do not.

Soap: u know what, i think u look like a jack

Ghost: You don't even know what I look like.

Soap: no, but that doesn't matter

Soap: i think i have an idea

Soap: and a friend named jack. it would be hilarious

Ghost: Please, no.

Soap: too late. jack it is

Jack: I don't want to be called that.

Soap: it's a nice name

Jack: You don't even know if I'm a guy.

Soap: are u

Jack: That's not the point.

Jack: It doesn't matter.

Soap: then what's ur name

Jack: If I give you a name, will you leave me alone?

Soap: yeah

Jack: Okay.

Jack: Call me Toad.

Soap: toad???

Soap: ok

Toad: Okay?

Soap: i'm not gonna call u that

Toad: Then why did you say you would?

Soap: why did u say u would give the phone back and then not give it back?

Toad: Fine.

Soap: fine

Toad: Good.

Soap: good!

Soap: hey toad

Toad: Oh my god.

Soap: how are u

Toad: I hate everything.

Soap: what a coincidence. so do i

Toad: How wonderful for us.

Soap: yeah it is.

Soap: u want to hear about the mission i just got back from?

Toad: It’s Ghost, not Toad. And I literally couldn't care less.

Soap: well that's rude. it was very exciting

Ghost: Are you military?

Soap: u know i could have asked for the phone back a long time ago. but i'm not. i'm just a good samaritan who wanted to make sure u got home safe

Ghost: That was a lot of words.

Soap: i had a lot to say

Ghost: Are you always like this?

Soap: yes. anyway, i am military. sort of. i like making stuff explode.

Ghost: What's your rank?

Soap: sergeant. i'm pretty cool.

Ghost: Cooler than most sergeants?

Soap: probably

Soap: but i still wouldn't tell gaz i said that

Ghost: Who is Gaz again?

Soap: i already told u

Ghost: It's been a while. I forgot.

Soap: that's the same as saying u care. i know u care.

Ghost: I don't.

Soap: ok, u dont care.

Ghost: I don't.

Soap: so if i texted u at 3 am to say my roommate accidentally lit my bed on fire, u wouldn't care?

Ghost: That's different.

Ghost: If you're really in the military, you should be able to deal with it.

Soap: wow.

Soap: ur kind of a dick

Ghost: You don't even know me.

Ghost: Besides, I'm not a dick. I'm a ghost.

Soap: lol

Soap: did u just make a joke?

Ghost: I suppose I did.

Soap: nice. maybe i'll forgive u

Ghost: For what?

Soap: stealing a phone

Ghost: Stealing a phone that I found on a public bathroom sink.

Ghost: The same phone that is currently being used to annoy the hell out of me.

Soap: karma is a bitch

Ghost: Is it?

Ghost: Or are you a bitch?

Ghost: maybe both.

Ghost: Sounds like it.

Soap: i'm gonna text u every day.

Ghost: I don't even know your name.

Soap: john mactavish. they call me soap tho.

Ghost: Soap.

Soap: yea

Ghost: Your name is John, and people call you Soap. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

Soap: i've heard worse

Ghost: I believe it.

Ghost: How the hell do you get Soap from John, though?

Soap: u could just call me john

Ghost: I will never call you John.

Soap: k

Ghost: Ever.

Soap: nice talk.

Ghost: Don't text me anymore.

Soap: they call me soap bc i clean up real nice

Ghost: I thought we agreed you wouldn't text me.

Soap: oh did we? i don't remember that

Ghost: I hate you.

Soap: <3

Ghost: Was that an emoji? Never do that again.

Soap: but rlly. the reason i'm called soap is bc i set some kind of record time clearing a warehouse in basic and it just kind of stuck

Ghost: Why are you telling me this?

Soap: to help u sleep at night

Ghost: It will not.

Soap: what kind of name is ghost anyway?

Ghost: Not important.

Soap: i've seen some of the guys around here. they aren't ghosts

Ghost: That's the point.

Soap: i bet you have a boring ass name like timothy

Ghost: Don't be ridiculous.

Soap: markus

Ghost: No.

Soap: paul

Ghost: I'm going to block this number.

Soap: okay okay, sorry

Soap: can i call u smthn normal like dave

Ghost: You're not even close.

Soap: damn

Soap: what do i get if i guess it right

Ghost: Absolutely nothing.

Soap: i'm not gonna stop guessing til u give me smthn

Ghost: How about you stop texting me and I won't kill you.

Soap: no ur a nice guy. u wouldn't do that

Ghost: Try me.

Soap: fine, i'll leave u alone for a day

Ghost: A week.

Soap: two days.

Ghost: Four days.

Soap: three

Ghost: Three days and a photo.

Soap: what?

Ghost: A photo of you.

Soap: why?

Ghost: I want to see what you look like.

Soap: why didn't u ask before

Ghost: Because I didn't care before.

Soap: send me a picture of u first

Ghost: No.

Soap: i'll think about it if u do

Ghost: I won't.

Soap: i'll take a bad picture.

Ghost: Why do you have a bad picture of yourself?

Soap: for situations just like this

Ghost: Okay.

Soap: u send one first.

Ghost: No.

Soap: i have pics of u already.

Ghost: What?!

Soap: lol

Soap: not really

Ghost: Don't fucking do that.

Soap: don't threaten to kill me

Ghost: Don't scare me.

Soap: ur not very good at this, are u?

Ghost: At what?

Soap: talking to people

Ghost: It doesn't seem to matter. You're still talking to me.

Soap: i guess it's a gift.

Soap: what would u do if i sent u a pic of myself

Ghost: Nothing.

Soap: that's a lie. u would look at it. perhaps save it to ur camera roll

Ghost: What do you want from me?

Soap: i wanna be friends

Ghost: Why?

Soap: u seem lonely

Ghost: I'm not.

Soap: u can keep telling me u hate me but i know that u don't

Ghost: I don't hate you.

Soap: so u like me?

Ghost: No.

Soap: we r gonna be the best of friends

Ghost: No, we aren't.

Ghost: Send me the picture.

Soap:

Soap: there. i cropped it so u couldn’t dox me

Ghost: Nice try. But I'm not a civilian. And I'm not an idiot.

Soap: ur not a civilian?

Ghost: Fuck.

Ghost: Pretend you didn't read that.

Soap: only if u send me a selfie

Ghost: This is extortion.

Soap: yup

Ghost: I don't have a photo.

Soap: then take a new one

Ghost: Fine.

Soap: is that a skull mask? and skeleton gloves? are u sure ur not an edgy teenager under there?

Ghost: Just shut up.

Soap: this is great. can i post this on instagram

Ghost: No.

Soap: can i show my roommates

Ghost: No.

Soap: ok, can i save it for blackmail purposes

Ghost: I would prefer it if you didn't.

Soap: too late

Soap: i didn’t think u had brown eyes

Ghost: You have an unfortunate beard.

Soap: what does that even mean?

Ghost: Exactly what it sounds like.

Soap: fuck off. ur a beanie baby.

Ghost: ?

Soap: a beanie baby. theyre like those little stuffed animals and u collect them. except, yk, a beanie baby

Ghost: I know what a beanie baby is. Why did you call me one?

Soap: ur just a little soft, squishy man

Ghost: Fuck you.

Soap: :)

Soap: did u know there are beanie babies of real people?

Ghost: What the fuck are you talking about?

Soap: i'm at walmart and i saw this miley cyrus beanie baby

Ghost: Miley Cyrus is not real.

Soap: they're called limited editions. u gotta collect them all

Soap: wait what do u mean miley cyrus isn’t real

Ghost: I mean that Miley Cyrus is an illusion. A fabricated idea created by a corrupt government and sold to the public. An industry plant to poison the minds of the youth.

Ghost: But now you've ruined the surprise, and her secret is out.

Soap: omg

Soap: i thought her secret was hannah montana

Ghost: You know nothing, Soap.

Soap: i can't believe you broke into gaz's phone, stole it, and now u won't tell me ur name

Soap: and yet u just tried to gaslight me into thinking miley cyrus isn't real

Ghost: I would have gotten away with it, too, if not for you meddling kids.

Soap: are u even a real person

Ghost: I have a question for you, Soap.

Soap: yeah

Ghost: Why haven't you reported this stolen phone to your authorities?

Soap: it's not that big of a deal. gaz has another phone. i think he just liked this one better

Ghost: And what about me?

Soap: what about u?

Ghost: How do you know I'm not a terrorist who is using the phone to spy on the military or steal secrets?

Soap: u don't seem like a terrorist

Ghost: Thanks.

Soap: and besides, u couldn't have stolen that many secrets if u didn't know miley cyrus is real

Ghost: I could.

Soap: how do u even use a phone with skeleton gloves on?

Ghost: With difficulty.

Soap: that helmet makes u look stupid

Ghost: Says the guy with the worst beard I've ever seen.

Soap: i'll have u know i've been told it makes me look handsome

Ghost: By who? Yourself?

Soap: well now i am not telling

Soap:

Ghost: I bet it was a mirror.

Soap: i would say i'd block u, but we both know i won't

Ghost: That's fine. We both know I won't give you the phone back.

Soap: that's true.

Soap: did u know gaz has a lot of games on his phone

Ghost: Like what?

Soap: the entire clash of clans series. a few versions of candy crush. and something called lovehoney. not sure what that one is.

Ghost: Are you sure about that, Soap?

Soap: ?

Ghost: Have you actually played LoveHoney?

Soap: no, it says its rated m

Ghost: I thought you said you were a grown ass man?

Soap: i can't play a rated m game without supervision

Ghost: Oh, really?

Ghost: Do you want supervision?

Soap: from who? u?

Ghost: Maybe.

Soap: u should come visit us sometime. we can play clash of clans together

Ghost: I'd rather stab myself.

Soap: :(

Ghost: Why do you keep using emojis?

Soap: to convey emotion

Ghost: But there are words for emotions.

Soap: u should try it

Ghost: Why would I do that when I have a mask and a helmet to hide my face?

Soap: why do u hide ur face anyway? are u ugly?

Ghost: Quite the opposite.

Soap: oh so ur pretty

Ghost: I don't see how that matters.

Soap: ur face matters a lot if it's the only thing u can see when u look at someone

Ghost: Then look elsewhere.

Soap: can't. the rest of u is covered up

Ghost: If you're lucky, you'll never have to see the rest of me.

Soap: if u were here i could prove to u that ur a real person

Ghost: Is that so?

Soap: yes. i would hold ur hand

Ghost: Gross.

Soap: maybe even hug u

Ghost: Definitely gross.

Soap: i'm a very affectionate person

Ghost: That's unfortunate.

Soap: i can be anything u want me to be

Ghost: Not interested.

Soap: ok fine, i can be anything u aren't

Ghost: Good luck with that.

Soap: do u always text like ur writing a report

Ghost: Yes.

Soap: it's boring

Ghost: You are boring.

Soap: and yet u keep replying

Ghost: I don't know why.

Soap: maybe bc we r friends

Ghost: That's not why.

Soap: yes it is.

Ghost:

Soap: is that a dog

Ghost: It's a German Shepard.

Soap: i hate dogs.

Ghost: I thought you might.

Soap: why

Ghost: They remind me of you.

Soap: hahaha

Ghost: They are loyal and dumb and kind of cute.

Soap: omg

Ghost: But also aggressive and loud and have terrible breath.

Soap: did u just call me cute

Ghost: I did.

Soap: are u drunk?

Ghost: No.

Ghost: Maybe.

Soap: do u always get drunk and text random guys on stolen phones?

Ghost: It's the only way I can talk to anyone.

Soap: why

Ghost: Because no one wants to get close to a ghost.

Soap: that was so dramatic

Ghost: So is your fucking beard.

Soap: it's a fashion statement

Ghost: It's ugly.

Soap: and what, ur face is too pretty for the world?

Ghost: Exactly.

Soap: if u weren't a stranger, i'd probably be a little offended

Ghost: We're not strangers.

Soap: not really, i guess. but u don't know anything about me

Ghost: I know your name.

Ghost: I know your rank.

Ghost: I know you work for an unspecified organization.

Ghost: I know you're a complete idiot.

Soap: hey!

Ghost: I know you like jelly beans.

Ghost: I know you're not as much of an asshole as I thought you were.

Ghost: And I know I like talking to you.

Soap: i like talking to u too. even if u insult me every chance u get

Ghost: It's because you're an easy target.

Soap: u are literally the least charming person i have ever met

Ghost: Thank you. to be continued - subscribe on ao3 for next chapters :3

44 notes · View notes

villaim · 2 years

Text

texting: ace trappola

genre — fluff/crack, smau

notes — g/n reader, reader is ramshackle prefect, platonic/romantic, short

a/n — i love ace trappola so much but i feel like he could call his friends his babes

trapoola — 12:28 am

did you get the answer to number 9 on the history homework

yuu — 12:28 am

ace what the fuck stop fishing for answers it’s 12 in the morning

trapoola — 12:28 am

MORNING?? i think u mean noght because the sun isn’t even night

also please give me the answers train is going to kill me

TREIN****

yuu — 12:28 am

we are not about to fight because you think 12 am is night and not morning 💀 when the clock goes to am it makes a new day, acey

trapoola — 12:29 am

PLEASE JUST GIVE ME THE ANSWERS YOURE THE ONLY ONE ACTUALLY AWAKE RN

yuu — 12:29 am

GO FISH OFF OF EPEL OR DEUCE im going to bed

trapoola — 12:29 am

did you forget what dorm epel is in. ALSO DEUCE IS ASLEEP 🙁

yuu — 12:31 am

i think epel is just ghosting you he’s texting me 💀

trapoola — 11:53 am

ppspspspspsppdpppp

YUU WAKE UP

this class is so boring i’m gonna combust

trapoola — 11:56 am

I KNOW YOU ARE SEEING THIS I SAW YOU OPENING THE CHAT

is it because i dropped ur textbook in the trash can then put it back on your desk without cleaning it

because if that’s why i’m sorru 🙁

yuu — 11:57 am

YOU. WHAT.

trapoola — 11:57 am

STOP STARING AT ME CREWEL IS GOING TO SEE US

yuu — 4:37 pm

come over to ramshackle and bring deucey i’m bored and want to play mafia

epel jack and sebek are already here and we don’t have enough people pls pookie dookie

trapoola — 4:38 pm

YOU WERE HANGING OUT WITHOUT US???

yuu — 4:38 pm

NO YOURE JUST THE LAST ONE TO BE INVITED

i wouldve invited deuce earlier but i knew he was with you and you would’ve came along 😒

trapoola — 4:38 pm

buy one get one free sale 😘

yuu — 4:39 pm

ur uninvited and we are playing just dance without you

trapoola — 4:43 pm

I AM AT YOUR DOOR OPEN UP

taglist —

@trappolaces @pastelmages @ineligible-indefinitely @granzreichsgoldenberry @ventisaircurrent

want to get on the taglist? send an ask through my ask box or by dm!

#twst x reader #ace trappola #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trapolla x reader #twst smau #twst #twst ace #twst ace trappola #ace twst #ace twisted wonderland #epelys

634 notes · View notes

chelleztjs18 · 1 year

Note

Hello you mrs. mango eater iced coffee drinker bread lover honey nut cheerio lefty eyebag princess😅

Hm so with my second account, it follows the same blogs I follow in the first one. I don't really know how to just follow certain blogs for each account lol cause I tried to see if I can follow people with my second account name but I can't 🤔

But yeah 😁 it is like incorrect quotes, and right now it's mostly focused around Wanda hahaha I am making it mostly funny because I really don't know how to write anything else. I suck at writing things in detail.

Ah I know what you mean. My best friend is the same way, she is constantly cleaning or just playing with her daughter. I think she will have a hard time when my niece goes to preschool soon lol

I say get drunk! It's the end of the year, let go of it ahahaha let go by getting drunk then having a really bad hangover the next day. Hm, maybe I won't give you my other tumblr name, I don't wanna get weird drunk text from you 😂 just kidding

Okay, I'll see if I can find the movie in the store or stream it somewhere 🤔 I am the same way, I hate when people talk to me during the movie. But if I am at home, I always pause the movie so I can make comments lol

I usually don't mind gory movies. I get iffy though when they show something being done to the characters skin or nails. Hahaha! Thats exactly why I can't watch filipino scary movies. I feel like the ghosts or supernatural stuff are actually there and will haunt me.

Hm I don't know either. I never pay attention to ratings until after I watch the movie. Oh actually there is one that people loved but I hate it because it was so bad. It's the cabin in the woods. It's supposed to be scary, but the whole time I was watching it, I kept going what the eff. 😂

Ok, last question for the night. 3 movies or shows that awaken your sexuality or was your sexual awakening. I hope the question made sense.

-CuriousGeorge

Hi hi righty eyebag!

Wow, that was a long nickname plus the princess nickname at the end..😁🤭

Ah i see. So it means ur second account follows mine..i wonder which none is u 🤔 hahahah.

I love incorrect quotes! Some of them can make me really laugh out loud..😅😆 n how they make y/n sometimes stupid but funny n how wanda or nat very patient with y/n. I love it!

Hahaha okay, it's understandable that u dont wanna give me ur tumblr because of not wanting to get drunk text from me. 🤣🤣🤣

Im.not sure if i wanna get drunk. The last time i got drunk, i shared a big bottle of vodka with him n other cocktails, i got so drunk n i felt like shit the next morning.. 🤣

Hahah yeah pls find it n let me know what u think about Knives Out.

Well, that's not fun either if u keep stopping the movie to comment. Just kidding.😆 at least it's bettter than miss the movie because someone is talking. It's still very thoughtful of u.

I will talk in the movie sometimea if we rewatch a movie n the other person already watched it too.

Im like that too with indonesian ghost movie.. i think asian ghosts r described a little more eerily weird.hahaha. n they look scary.

Ah i see.i never really remember movies that i regret watching that people love it.

Oh oh! I remember! I watched Hunger Games Mocking Birds with my friends n they all were excited about it. But i fell asleep watching it.😅 a movie thats called Yesterday also got me bored like hell that i have to stop watching it not even half of movie. The most recent bad movies i watch that people seems to love it is the latest Jurassic Park movies. I even feel like almost 3 hours of my life was wasted 😅 it's just my opinion though, i hv nothing agaisnt the fans of that movie.

Hmm 3 movies that was my gay awakening

1. The Mummy Returns (Rachelle Weisz was sooo hot in it)

2. I Can't Think Straight (the story is quite similar with my story with my ex-gf)

3. Kyss Mig or Kiss me (it's a sweden movie but good story in it.)

4. Iron Man 2 (when Natasha first appeared in MCU)

Whats urs?

Next question

Cheerio!

#chellez answers #ask answered #anon answered #curious george anon

0 notes

ppersonna · 3 years

Text

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary- after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks and @hongism for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily.

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it.

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water.

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk.

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.”

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo.

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?”

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above.

“You call Jimin a prince?”

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband.

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.”

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.”

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own.

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.”

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.”

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid.

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom.

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed.

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it.

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can.

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone.

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway.

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk.

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read.

He just matched with YOU.

His best friend.

His secret, lifelong crush.

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it.

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen.

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other.

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message.

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone.

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend.

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone.

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion.

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff.

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband.

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line.

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend.

“It’s nothing!”

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.”

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.”

You roll your eyes.

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off.

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams.

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback.

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly.

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures.

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen.

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is.

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork.

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you.

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause.

“What’s up?” He asks curiously.

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner.

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours.

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own.

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to.

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator.

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze.

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face.

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest.

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others.

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park.

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too.

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth.

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm.

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing.

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it.

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck.

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes.

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently.

“And I promise to never run away from you again.”

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself.

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again.

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with.

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing.

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss.

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours.

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly.

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed.

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?”

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement.

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.”

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited.

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs.

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes.

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more.

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.”

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable.

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan.

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water.

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently.

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue.

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue.

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully.

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.”

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body).

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are.

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down.

“Still dreaming?”

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire.

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes.

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout.

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?”

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug.

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing.

“I plan to find out everything.”

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.”

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss.

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you.

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.”

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body.

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands.

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.”

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation.

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.”

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off.��

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt.

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation.

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion.

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship.

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister.

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

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venusiangguk · 3 years

Note

I would cry if you made a mini drabble or comment on how dilf Jk and OC are doing. Are they still together?

the art of wanting drabble: gardening and pool day with dilf jk and baby nari

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers / fwb / fluff

>>rating: PG

>>word count: 1.2k, drabble

>>warnings: not much, mentions of alcohol, implied smut, cutest baby ever

>>notes: just a lil update on the favorite not-so-couple couple and the apple of their eye, little nari <3

>>summary: nari plays in the dirt while jk gardens and you make a bet.

The blender was very fancy and had a lot of buttons, but alas, you made due and are now stepping out into the backyard, hands full of watermelon juice. Two with just a pinch of the rum you found in the built in wine cooler by the dishwasher, one with a spill proof lid.

It's your day off from the god forsaken grocery store, and the sun is beating hot outside, but the light breeze makes it bearable. The pool a little ways away gets more and more tempting as the heat sends waves to your bare arms and back. The bikini top you’re wearing basically useless as protection from the sun.

Good thing you’ve got a certain someone to sunscreen your back for you.

Jeongguk is shirtless, his sleeve on full display. His long hair is being held back by a baseball cap, and he’s got his gardening gloves on. You watch as he uses the back of his tattooed arm to wipe at some of the sweat dripping down the side of his face. He looks sunkissed and just edible.

You reign your thoughts in however when your eyes move next to him.

Little Nari is sat on a small blanket with a portable umbrella keeping her in a small patch of cool shade, her little toes dangling off the edge and digging into the small pile of soil that Jeongguk provided her to play in. He even put a few weeds and some of the flowers that were on their last few days of life into the mix. Nari digs one out with her pudgy little hands and squeals as she raises her hand for her dad to see.

Jeongguk, the ever doting father, takes in his baby and laughs when he sees that her overly large sun cap has fallen into her eyes. He adjusts it on her head, and you hear him give a playful gasp as you get closer.

“Oh so pretty, little flower,” he coos, “Is that for me?”

Nari snatches her hand away from him. “Nuuuuw, Da,” she shakes her head with so much force her whole little body jiggles, her round tummy on display in a tiny bikini of her own.

You smile to yourself and you take a seat with Nari on her blanket, stealing a bit of her shade. You hand Jeongguk his drink with a soft grin, and he smiles back at you, soft and sweet as he takes the glass.

“Oooh look what ___ brought for us,” he says, to Nari, “What do you say?”

Nari whips her head around to you like she didn’t notice you sit right next to her. She giggles, baby gurgles sounding in the backyard air. She claps her hands as she smiles at you her round doe-eyes squeezing shut in glee. That’s when she seems to remember the small blossom in her hand.

Her eyes go wide and her mouth parts in a small ‘o’ before she extends the flower to you.

“Buuu?”

You bend down to her level, and she tucks the flower into your hair as best she can with her baby motor skills and then wacks at her dad’s knee.

Jeongguk glances over at you as you grab a nearby watering can and use it to clean Nari’s hands before handing her her juice. She suckles on the sippy straw until she absolutely has to stop, gasping and taking deep breaths before getting right back to her sweet treat.

Her dad glances between her and you trying to figure out why his daughter tried to get his attention. His face falls and he gives a playfully annoyed expression.

“You know,” he starts, “Maybe Daddy wants a flower every once in a while.”

Nari is unbothered as she fists her sippy cup in one hand and the other goes right back into the dirt.

You giggle as you sip your drink and then lean back some, resting on your free hand. “You have the prettiest flower all to yourself already,” you say, nodding in Nari’s direction.

Jeongguk’s face softens, and he goes from looking at you to his little baby. He laughs quietly as he pinches her tummy. She giggles and some watermelon juice dribbles down her chin, unable to swallow before getting attacked by her daddy’s tickles.

Her hiccuping babbles and baby giggles are contagious, and you can’t help but join along. Nari puts up with her dad’s pestering for a good amount of time before she screeches and holds up a tiny dirt covered hand, as if saying ‘stop’.

“Nuw, Da,” she babbles. She’s getting closer and closer to talking as the days pass, even in the short months that you’ve been coming around, she’s already made progress.

Jeongguk’s eyes shine with laughter as he nods, a closed lipped smile holding in his own giggles. “Oh, okay, sorry,” he tells her, flicking his eyes to you before back to Nari, “Carry on, the weeds aren’t gonna pull themselves Miss Nari,” he gestures to her pile of dirt. Nari nods, a diligent little weed puller indeed.

“Hey,” you whisper after a few moments, the both of them back to work, “Gguk.”

He turns to you, a question on his face. You don’t respond right away, just smile at him and he gives in, leaning back and angling himself towards you. Nari sat between your bodies, in front of you.

He’s resting on his elbow, his upper half in the shade with you. He smiles up at you lazily. “What’s up?”

You glance at Nari making sure she’s distracted, and then you flip his cap so it’s backwards, before placing a small hand onto his hot, red face. You angle him towards you and it warms your heart at just how easily he goes with you and lets his eyes fall shut, already knowing what’s about to happen.

You kiss him softly, before deepening the kiss just a bit before pulling away. He tastes sweet like watermelon, slightly salty from the sweat on his upper lip.

He hums, eyes still closed a soft smile still on his mouth. “What was that for?”

You pat his cheek and flip his hat back around. “Just because,” you say quietly. Then you wrinkle your nose. “You’re so sweaty.”

He nods, unashamed. “Working hard.”

You glance at the tempting pool. “Why don’t we ever go in there?”

He hums. “Nari doesn’t like the water, and I don’t do anything without her.”

A little idea forms in your head. “I bet if I go in, she’ll go in.”

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”

You nod. “I win, we… you know,” you raise your eyebrows at him. He blushes a little, but a ghost of a smile dances on his lips. “You win, we still… you know.”

He gives you a knowing look, plucks his gardening gloves off before he uses the arm he’s not leaning on to reach over and adjust the flower Nari put in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you can be quiet enough while we… you know?”

With an excited grin you nod and run to the outside pool shed to grab Nari’s floaties. That baby will be a little mermaid by the time the sun goes down.

~~~

aha!! a little drabble to update you guys on dilf jk, since he do be living in our heads rent free. so to answer the q: they are together but not together together. i have a longer one shot in my brain that includes more plot and actual smut, but idk when i'll get around to writing it so hopefully this will hold u guys over till then !! sry for the blue balls, but just so u know jk had to cover oc's mouth and he might've scolded her while they were... you know... "I thought I told you to be quiet?" :o ok byee

also i hope u like it :) if u did, pls do all the things: like, reblog, comment, share, send an ask~~ as always i love hearing ur thoughts and talking to u :*

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introloves · 4 years

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hi babieee can you please make a smut for hard dom tsukki overstimulated you but he goes very soft and affectionate after you two were done 🥺

oh oh by the waaay, your smut prompt are the best omg, whenever i searched for haikyuu smut you're always there shshs thank u so much for feeding my horny ass 💕

hi lovely!!! tysm!!!!!! here ya go !

also, shfjhd pls i’m sorry i physically can’t shut up omg how annoying seeing my stuff n the tags all the time 😩

you’re panting, lungs burning with every thrust tsukishima pounds into you.

the bedding under your face is wet with tears and drool, theres liquid everywhere. he’s fucked you to the point where you feel like you can’t give anymore, but tsukishima knows your body better than you do.

all you can do is lay there and take what he gives you, you can’t think anymore, all thats falling from your lips are his name and screams of pleasure while he has a grip on your hips, pulling you into him when he pounds into you so hard thay you’re sent up the beds dangerously close to the headboard.

the pain of him digging into you so hard feels amazing, your tongue feels heavy when you ask him for more, you don’t recognize your voice, it sounds so desperate and shrill, and in an instant he angles himself so he’s hitting that place that has your toes curling. he makes it look easy, the way he knows how to make you come apart is almost scary, not even you with your own hand and fingers can make yourself cum this fast.

“another one? fuck, i could make you cum all day, huh?” tsukishima growls, his own voice coming out gruff from the work he’s putting in, he’s well spent as well, but with the control he has over his body, he’s doing better off than you.

you just nod, because you know he would.

once again it feels like your muscles are screaming with the burn, you’ve tended up so hard from each orgasm you’re sure if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be a rag doll plopping against the bed.

so you lay there and let him finish, too spent to talk to him through his orgasm. but it’s all worth it because he sounds so good when he does, with deep grunts and final frantic pumps of his hips, he’s painting you white with him cum.

you pull your shaky arm from under you, reaching back to find his hand that’s still gripping you hard.

he finds it immediately, letting you go, letting your body fall to the bed, he hisses as his cock slips out of you faster than he would like.

clasping your hand in his, he hums as he looks down at you.

you’re glistening with sweat, goosebumps everywhere, you look so sweet so fucked out.

“you did good.”

tsuki lets you breathe before turning your body around, gentle hands make sure to not tug you too hard.

“thankyou.” you slur, smiling while he cleans you up.

it’s a deep contrast from how he was before, it’s all gentle touches, lips ghosting the shell of your ear while he holds you, fingertips trailing your arms and tummy.

“i love you.” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles to your thighs, making sure to check your hips for any bruising from his hands.

“love you too kei.”

he smiles real deep at that, thinking how lucky he is to have you.

#tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #smut #drabble #requests #asks #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#— no face. 🐉

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

I saw that u were taking requests (yey) I'd want like a soulmate au (there are numerous kinds but I want u to have freedom to write what kind u want!) but it's just pure angst 😳😳 it could be any member n possibly an open or no happy ending :] I'm just a sucker for angst n think u would write this so well!

Anonymous said: Yoongi x reader, soul mate au, angsty but happy ending pls cuz I'm sensitive 🥺 maybe both soul mates get a weird tattoo, or hear each others thoughts or something else

Both these requests are asking for soulmate AUs, so I’m compiling them together. But one wants it to be angst city and the other wants a happy ending LOL. Guess we’ll see what happens.

↳ The Soulmate Gift

3.6k || 70% Angst, 30% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Soulmate!AU

Warning: depiction of child abuse

It happens when you’re ten.

They told you it was different for everyone, that it usually started during puberty and it was perfectly normal. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to be like this.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You flinch at the noises, the bathroom door quivering against the frame from the pounding on the other side. Your mom shouts, “Get out!”

“Just give me one second!” You look back into the mirror, staring at yourself with seaweed green hair and streaks of bright purple. You look like a clown and you want to cry.

You don’t run into your mom on your way out, so you go to school with a tattered baseball cap, stuffing all of your hair in it. During the trudge to school with a grumbling stomach, you hold the cap tight against your skull, not letting a single strand loose. You’re nervous on the playground, your other hand coming to grip at your backpack strap. But luckily, no one asks.

At least not until you’re inside and getting settled into your desk.

“Good morning, class!” Mrs. An struts into the room, beelining towards the front. “Open your books! Tommy, shush!” You try your best to hide beneath your open textbook that’s propped up, but the moment she looks in your direction, she’s already saying, “Y/N, no hats inside.”

You straighten. “Um, my mom—”

“Rules are rules. Take it off,” she commands without leaving room to argue or explain. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself unless you want detention.”

So you do.

You slip the cap off your head with tears stinging your eyes.

Mrs. An turns to the whiteboard, beginning to write the title for today’s lesson, but a loud gasp from the classmate sitting behind you captures her attention again. She swivels on her feet and her eyes land straight on your head. Everyone’s eyes do. On your stark, fiery red hair.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

The next thing you know, you’re being dragged by your teacher into the principal's office. From the hall, you can still hear the entire classroom giggling, whispering about you and making a complete ruckus much to Mrs. An’s dismay.

“This is unbelievable!” she howls, hands lifted to the sky. “How could a fifth grader have hair like this?! It’s entirely inappropriate! It’s a complete distraction to the classroom!”

The principal, Mr. Park, hums. His hands are clasped on top of his desk and he calmly asks, “Did your parents dye your hair yesterday, Y/N?”

You slump and mutter, “No.”

He frowns. “Then who did?”

“No one…”

Mrs. An spits, “Then you did it yourself?!”

“No!” Your voice pitches in an attempt to defend yourself and your teeth sink into the bottom of your lip, trying to hold back your tears. You don’t want to get into trouble. “I woke up like this!”

But Mrs. An doesn’t believe you. Her eyes narrow and she scoffs. “How dare you lie to me and the principle?! If you didn’t do it, then who did? It’s against the rules to have anything other than your natural hair colour!”

Mr. Park sighs lightly. “We’ll just have to contact your mom and speak to her, Y/N.”

Immediately, your eyes widen and you bolt to a stand. “No, please!” you cry out. “Don’t! I’m sorry! I’ll dye it back! I won’t do it ever again!”

But the man shakes his head. “It’s too late for that.”

Your fist crumples and you deflate.

Your mom comes in half an hour later, dressed in stained jeans, old boots, and the only clean flannel she has. She’s not happy. You can tell by the look on her face. Even if she smiles and nods her head at the principal, you can see the tick in her eye and the muscle in her cheek twitching.

The moment she looks at you, her eyes become rounded at your crimson hair.

“I had no idea this happened. I’m so sorry for her behaviour. She must’ve gotten her hands onto my dye kits somehow.” She sighs and turns to you. “It won’t happen again. Right, Y/N?”

You nod. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Park smiles softly. “Not at all. It’s not that big of a deal. Some...teachers around here just adhere more strongly to the rules, so we want to make sure it’s consistent for everyone. It’s a bit of a distraction to her peers, but as long as Y/N comes in tomorrow with more...appropriate hair, it won’t be a problem.”

Afterwards, you’re sent home early.

Your mom is silent on the walk home. You trail after her, dreading what will happen when you get back.

The neighbours’ dog barks against the chain link fence, growling and baring their teeth. You flinch, getting closer to the gutter to avoid them. You’re safe when you get to your yard a few steps away and onto the worn, wooden porch that nearly breaks with your mom’s stomps. She kicks a few cigarette buds to the side and opens the squeaky screen door. You swallow hard and follow after her.

The living room is messy with clothes and old pizza boxes on the floor, and the TV is still on in the corner.

“Mom….mom….I didn’t do it.”

You drop your backpack, watching her stride towards the kitchen. She opens a drawer as you plead to her, and your voice becomes louder as the silver reflection of sharp scissors catches your eye. “No! Please! I swear I’m not lying!”

It’s useless.

She’s larger, taller, bigger and stronger than you are.

She comes over and grabs your long hair, yanking it from your head. You cry as she starts to cut. Jagged lines, quick snips, sawing off the strands. A sob breaks through your chest and trying to get away only makes her grip on your hair tighten and she pulls it to get you back.

Mom grits her teeth. “How dare you go behind my back and cause my trouble, you bitch. You stole my dye, didn’t you?! You thief!”

You scream and cry. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”

She never once notices how your hair returns to its natural colour as it sheds to your feet. That the moment it’s snipped from your head, the blazing red has faded away and lost the colour.

When it’s over, the scissors are tossed on the floor.

You’re left slumped on the ground, in a pool of your own hair. There are bald spots on your scalp while the other side is longer, uneven. What’s left of your head bleeds bright yellow, the colour of sunshine.

The next day, the shade mellows out, almost into a dirty blonde. You hope it’s good enough.

Your mom’s asleep on the sofa, snoring away with the TV still playing in the background. So you make it past her and trudge to school.

Kids are playing on the playground when you get there and you grip your backpack straps as you look on. But you don’t join them. Your feet turn and you duck out of sight, slipping into the school through the side doors. You’re lucky the janitor hasn’t locked them.

You’re not supposed to be inside the building yet, but you hope no one notices. Unluckily, someone turns the corner down the hall. But you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s just Mrs. Jung.

She’s always been nice.

“Good morning.”

She’s busy tapping on her phone, yet in a chirpy voice, she still exclaims, “Good morning! How are you—”

Mrs. Jung finally looks up and she suddenly stops.

You don’t know why her face looks like that. Like she’s seen a ghost. Is your hair really that bad? You tried to fix it and you thought it turned out okay.

Mrs. Jung gets closer and then lowers to a kneel in front of you, matching your height. Her shaking hand lifts and she touches the side of your head. You feel her fingertips against your scalp that still stings. You hiss and when you look at her, you see tears in her eyes. You wonder why.

“Who did this?” Her voice is quiet, gentle.

“Um….I was playing with scissors.”

Mrs. Jung looks at you again and says, “You’re allowed to tell me, Y/N.”

You stay quiet, not sure what to tell her, not sure you want to get into any more trouble. If you do and get sent to the principal's office again, who knows what your mom would do then.

But as you’re thinking about it, Mrs. Jung adds on, “No one will get into trouble, I promise.”

She looks into your eyes.

Your head droops, downcast vision looking at the floor. A quiet mumble escapes— “My mom.”

You’re not sure what happens after that. You’re sure your mom would be enraged if she knew you were talking about her and if you got her into trouble, that would be the worst. But for some reason, you don’t feel scared. Not when Mrs. Jung takes your hand and brings you to her science classroom.

You sit behind her desk that’s hidden away from the rest of the class by bookshelves and she gives you an apple juice box. You slurp it up — you haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch.

When you peek out, you see Mrs. Jung talking to another teacher in the hall. Soon after, the principle comes to visit you. He has the same expression as Mrs. Jung did and asks you if your mom’s done something like this before.

That day, your grandma picks you up from school. It’s a pleasant surprise. You’ve always liked your grandma but your mom never let her visit much. She hugs you tight.

The colour of your hair is a warm shade of gray.

...

Mrs. Jung takes you on a one-on-one special field trip on Sunday. She picks you up from Grandma’s house after you’ve had your favourite for breakfast: sunny-side up eggs. She drives you to the clinic and the female doctor hits your knee, making it bounce. The doctor also measures how tall you are, shines a light in your eye and asks if green is your favourite colour.

You see in the wall mirror that your head’s turned into a teal shade. You tell her no.

Half an hour later, you’re put in a machine that flashes lots of colours. They reassure you but you’re not scared. The vivid hues and mosaic of shades that blur past your eyes are pretty.

When it’s done, the doctor holds a clipboard while sitting next to the computer. Your legs swing from the edge of the examination table as you’re situated comfortable on the plush seat.

“It’s as I initially suspected, the hair is her soulmate gift. It changes colour based on her soulmate’s emotions.”

Mrs. Jung frowns. “I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

“Yes, well, it’s much more rare. Only point zero six experience a hair quirk.” The doctor looks from Mrs. Jung to you then back at her again. “Typically, as you know, soulmate gifts come in the form of names tattooed into skin or even countdowns of when the person would meet their soulmate, but soulmate gifts can take all kinds of different shapes and forms. Luckily, this shouldn’t affect her too much aside from, obviously, her hair changing color. Kids usually receive their gift around puberty, but looks like she’s an early bloomer.”

The doctor briefly smiles at you and then rolls on her chair towards her desk. “She’s also malnourished, but I believe with the proper nutrition, she’ll be able to recover. We should book another appointment in a few months to keep an eye on that and the hair.”

When the trip to the clinic is over, Mrs. Jung brings you to the mall.

You look around with wide eyes at all the clothes in the windows, but she eventually stops in front of a particular store and kneels in front of you. Her eyes lock into yours and she takes your hand.

“Y/N, you understand what the doctor told you, right?”

“Yeah. My hair’s my soulmate gift.” You had guessed it was that anyway.

Mrs. Jung nods with a smile. “Yes, you’ve always been a smart girl.”

She strokes your head affectionately and says, “I know you might not feel it now, but it really is a gift. Your soulmate is the one meant for you, your other half. They’re the one who can make you even happier. It’s both a blessing and a privilege to have. But it’s also okay if you hate it. You don’t have to like your soulmate gift,” she reassures. “If one day, you’re more comfortable with your hair, then that would be good. But it’s also okay if you’re not. It’s up to you.”

You nod after a moment.

Mrs. Jung smiles. “We’re gonna go into that wig shop, okay? You can pick two that you like and I’ll help you get it.”

Picking out wigs is more fun than you expect. The people there are happy to help and you end up going home with one black, long hair wig and another brown bobbed one that makes you look like Rapunzel after she cut her hair.

...

You only see your mom three times after that.

Once, she comes to your grandma’s house. Your grandma doesn’t let her see you, but you watch them yell at each other on the porch from the upstairs window. The next time is a year later in court. Your mom cries out for you and you tell her you’re sorry. Her hug is so tight, you can barely breathe.

The last is a visit on your own accord years later.

The small house you spent your childhood in is falling apart, windows broken, trash in the yard. You find her sitting on the armchair with a hazy expression, TV playing in the corner. She’s in the same exact position as if you never left. You put a blanket over her, but she stirs awake and sees you. She asks to borrow a hundred dollars.

Your mom winds up throwing a dirty plate your way when you give her twenty. It’s all you have on you.

You don’t realize the significance of what Mrs. Jung’s done for you until years later after you’ve long graduated elementary. So you visit her during High School with a thank you card and a bouquet of flowers. She’s gotten old by then, but she still remembers. She cries and hugs you tight. It feels comforting. And her hand brushes against the strands of your baby blue locks.

Grandma helps you grow out your hair again and is one of the people who help you become comfortable in it. By university, you’ve discarded your wigs in favour of your real hair that’s gotten luscious and shiny. Your friends think it's the coolest thing they’ve ever seen and some people approach you to tell you they love it and ask where you got it done.

You tell them it’s your soulmate gift.

Throughout the years, you pick at the ends of your hair and keep track of its changes in your diary. It becomes a habit to play with your hair, to memorize the shade it morphs to. You find that during the winter seasons, your hair becomes white often. One day, it turns white twenty six times.

On Valentine’s Day one year, your hair stays solid pink the whole day. And on another, it’s black for an entire week in April.

You start to hypothesize on the data you collect, noting the frequency of the hair colour changes, of each shade. You suspect hues of yellow signify happiness, reds are anger, blues are sadness, white is when your soulmate is cold. You’re not so sure about the others—

“Y/N.”

Seokjin is leaning on your cubicle as you shut your journal, having recorded your hair turning into a shade of lilac.

“Boss man wants to see you.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble up, pushing your small office chair back. “What for?”

The man shrugs. “Beats me. I wouldn’t worry about it though. It’s not like he’s going to fire you………..right?”

Seokjin grins, but his joke only spurs more nerves on you.

You get to the door, smooth out your pencil skirt and with a deep breath, you knock.

“Come in.”

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Min?”

You step inside his office, finding him looking into a small table mirror at his desk. He’s peering at his left eye and bats his lash several times. But then he sets the mirror down and looks at you.

“Yes, please take a seat.”

You clear your throat and sit in the chair across from him. The mirror is propped up in your direction, and you notice how your hair turns into a shade of monotone gray. It starts at the roots, bleeding downwards until all the strands have altered completely.

You pipe up, “If this is about the Jeon files, sir, I already redid them.”

“No, that’s not it.” He rubs his left eye that’s watering and then blinks. “Actually, I wanted to have a conversation about this for a while. Joy was supposed to talk to you about this, but she’s busy at the moment.”

Joy from HR.

You’re immediately on alert. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Min says, “It’s about your hair.”

Oh.

He rubs his eye and then clasps his hands together on top of his desk. “Recently, we received a customer complaint that your hair was unprofessional.”

“It’s my soulmate gift.”

“Yes. I know. You mentioned it during your interview. But it still could be considered a distraction in the workplace.”

The word ‘distraction’ has a muscle by your brow jumping. It makes you practically bristle as déjà vu washes over you. But you aren’t ten anymore. You don’t have to be afraid.

You straighten. “With all due respect, I don’t think it’s a requirement for me to have to change my hair. This is out of my control….sir.”

Suddenly, your hair turns a faint hue of red.

Mr. Min’s brow raises as if he didn’t expect you to be so difficult. “It’s part of the rules to have business appropriate attire in the office.”

“Attire yes, but there is nothing referring to hair,” you quietly assert.

His jaw shifts and he leans back into his seat. “Well, we’ll have to confirm if that’s true with HR—”

“I already did,” you interrupt him with a meek smile and as an afterthought, you add, “sir.”

Your hair turns a stronger shade of red. From pastel to a raspberry. Your pupils flicker to the mirror on his desk and your brows furrow as you notice it.

Mr. Min breaks you out of your trance and you redirect your attention to him again. “Is it impossible to make it less of a distraction?” he asks while rubbing his eye that’s tearing up again.

“If it becomes a requirement for me to wear wigs to work every day and not an expectation for others, sir, then the company should pay for it, put it on for me each morning and help me maintain it.” Your hair turns a stronger shade of red — crimson — as Mr. Min rubs his eye more incessantly. You add, “With all due respect, I don’t consider my hair a distraction at all. It is out of my control and it isn’t my fault if others are distracted. It has to do with their attention span.”

He stands. “That’s enough.”

At the same time, from his watered eye, you see something fall out.

You point. “Umm, sir…”

“Shit,” he mutters underneath his breath and looks to the carpet. You stand there for a delayed second before deciding to help him. You round his desk and descend to the ground where he is. All he says is, “It’s a contact lens.”

It’s a surprise to you considering you didn’t know he wore them.

But you quickly spot the transparent half-sphere. “Oh, it’s over there. By your foot.”

Mr. Min frowns. “Where?”

He looks up to see where you’re pointing. Your faces are inches away and instantly your eyes widen. A quiet gasp leaves your lungs. Not because of your close proximity but because Mr. Min’s iris is a fading red. And as confusion takes you, it morphs into a shade of gray.

Blooming outwards from his pupil, colour swirling into place.

“Your eye…” you murmur.

He mumbles, “It’s a soulmate gift.”

Yoongi grabs the brown colour contact lens, cursing at how it’s gotten dirty. But before he can get up, your hands latch onto his wrist, fingers digging into his skin and you tell him, “Wait.”

“What?”

There’s an unquenchable thirst to test the hypothesis that’s dawned upon you.

So when your hair starts to turn into gray as well, you surge forward on sheer intuition. And you kiss your boss, Min Yoongi. Your lips press against his, enough to register how soft and velvet his mouth is, long enough to feel his vanilla chapstick transfer onto your lips. But it’s a chaste peck. Shy and hesitant. And you pull away just as quickly.

Yoongi falls back on his butt with eyes nearly falling out of their sockets.

Immediately, you look over to the mirror on his desk. Your hair is turning from gray to red with faint streaks of cotton candy pink.

You gaze back at Yoongi to find his iris is peony pink.

“D-Did you just kiss me?!”

“Umm, sir, with all due respect, I believe you’re my soulmate.”

The words to dawn upon him. For the first time, your strands of hair morphs into a soft, pastel pink and his irises match the same shade.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts drabble #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic #yoongi reader insert #yoongi fluff #maso-cxhi #HOPEFULLY this is sufficient #it was definitely hard to balance out some extreme angst while also delivering some fluff lol

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tsukkisbean · 4 years

Text

haikyuu nsfw alphabet series | tendō satori

please block #claras steamys if you don’t want to see this type of content!!

warnings: sexual themes, mentions of (unprotected) sex, voyuerism, bondage, edging, fem!reader

a/n: based on post time skip!! okay i don’t talk a lot about tendō so it was super fun to analyze him and bring my headcanons to life bc he’s definitely a hard hard dom!! this is also unedited pls excuse any unfinished sentences or mistakes

return to nsfw alphabet series masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

i think tendō would be surprisingly big on aftercare. given how he acts in the bedroom (detailed later) he makes sure that you are well taken care of after a long session together. like he’ll grab some water and a towel and help you get cleaned up and comfortable. maybe in the morning he’ll have a super simple breakfast ready like a toast and coffee or tea or maybe even some chocolate depending on the time of day

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favourite body part of his is 100000% his fingers. his hands are large, fingers long and skinny and he absolutely loves the way they look shoved down into your pretty mouth, around your throat, or fingering your wet cunt.

he absolutely loves your mouth (detailed more below!!)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

so based on the above tendō loves when you’re sitting on your knees, waiting for him to cum in your mouth. there’s just something about the way you look with his cum painted all over your tongue. and it drives him especially crazy when you lick your lips to clean up the drops that are spilling down the corner of your mouth because you don’t want to waste a single drop

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

honestly? i don’t think he has any, mainly because he’s not afraid to be open with you. he strikes me as the type with absolutely no filter and so he’s going to tell you everything and anything on his mind whether it’s a random dirty thought or something new that he wants to try with you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i’m a little on the fence about this mainly because tendō has a personality that people need time to get used to and understand. so that being said, i don’t think he has a lot of experience, BUT he knows what he’s doing (from watching a lot of porn probably)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

you’re on your back, legs spread out wide, his hands wrapped around your ankles, holding your legs in the air while he fucks you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not goofy, but i wanna say he’s more playful. he likes to talk dirty, and say things he knows will make you embarrassed. loves the expression when you’re lost for words but also clearly turned on!!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not groomed whatsoever like i cannot see him giving a crap about what he looks like down there

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

honestly i think he gets so into the whole sex aspect that he completely forgets about being romantic for the most part. he’ll do things like praise you, and maybe a kiss or two here or there but most of it will just be him focusing on fucking you and help you reach your high

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he knows that you know and you know that he knows, yet you don’t move from your spot hiding spot. you didn’t intend for this to happen; all you wanted was to surprise tendō by finally coming home early for once. you peer through the crack in the door, reveling at the way your boyfriend looked with his eyes shut, head thrown back, and those beautiful fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. it feels weird to be spying on your boyfriend, someone you were regularly intimate with, yet you can’t seem to tear your eyes away. you don’t realize, but your mouth hangs open, drool dribbling down your chin.

the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as your boyfriend’s voice cuts through the silence in the air, “are you going to just sit there like a dirty slut and me jack off or are you going to come suck my dick?”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

tendō enjoyed seeing the look of defeat on his opponents faces when he played volleyball and i think that translates into the bedroom. he’s the type that loves to see his partner struggle (i would say he’s pretty much a sadist) and so i can think of A LOT of things he’d be into but i’m going to just keep it to top 3.

1. bondage: loves to tie you up, your hands completely bound, eyes covered with a blindfold so you can’t move in any way. the power he feels just seeing you struggle, the way your face contorts in frustration because your arms are bound and your vision is temporarily taken away is immense

2. exhibitionism: absolutely LOVES the thrill of the two you possibly getting caught will having sex; the expression of the unsuspecting person.he gets especially excited at the way you clench around him because you’re nervous someone will spot you even though you’re okay with the exhibitionism

3. edging: favourite way to do this is first by eating you out. as soon as he feels your thighs about to quiver, he’ll pull away. next, he’ll pump his fingers in and out of your drenched cunt, fingers curling every so often. when he he feels you clench around his fingers, he’ll stop again. to top it off, he’ll fuck into you, slamming his hips against yours but at a painstakingly slow pace. loves the way you beg and cry for him to let you cum.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the balcony of your apartment!! checks off all his boxes. it’s accessible and there’s the possibility of getting caught

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

dirty talk!!! if you want to get him all riled, tell him all the things you want him to do. better yet, tell him all the things you want to do him and you guys will be in the bedroom in no time

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i can’t think of a single thing. i think tendō is one of the most open to experimenting when it comes to sex and he won’t really know he doesn’t like it until he actually tries it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

this might come as a surprise to some, but i think he prefers to oral. the man is skilled with his tongue. he loves the way you squirm in his grasp, needy for more, but refuses to give it to you just because it’s fun to him

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough; he likes to build up the momentum and right when you’re about to cum he’ll stop. continues that pattern until you’re reduced to a blabbering mess

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not a fan because he prefers to draw out each time with you as long as he can. will only do it if he’s super desperate and he knows you guys can’t wait for the right moment

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

this man is down to do everything and anything that you want. he probably has a long list of things he wants to try with you and it grow every single day.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

can accomplish anything he puts his mind to so i would say his stamina is pretty high. he could probably go for at least 3 rounds, each lasting around 30-45 minutes (including foreplay)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

lots of different toys for the both of you to use on each other!!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

given his kinks tendō is the biggest tease but he’s not cruel; over time he’s learned your limits and will push you just until you’re a quivering, crying mess because he knows you can take it

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not super loud, but he’s extremely vocal in the sense that he likes whispering dirty things and praises in your ear (with the occasional grunt or moan in-between) cause he knows it makes your skin crawl.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

at a time when the entire city should be asleep, there you stand on the balcony of your shared apartment with your boyfriend. one hand grasps the railing in front of you, the other presses firmly against your mouth. the feeling of your boyfriend’s lips merely ghosting against the nape of your neck is enough to send electric currents up your spine, “kitten, why are you so shy today?”

in one swift movement, both your arms are pinned against your back, your chest meeting the frosty glass of the balcony. his thrusts are long and deep, and with each one it becomes harder and harder to hold back your pathetic cries.

at a time when the entire city should be asleep, there you stand with your boyfriend for anyone to watch as they please.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

longer than average, average girth and a slight curve to the right

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

h i g h. mainly cause he randomly thinks of something new that he wants to try with you and can’t calm down until it happens

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

honestly he probably falls asleep while cuddling you almost instantly after you guys are done

#haikyuu smut #hq thirst #tendou smut #tendou x reader #tendou satori #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #clara click clacks #claras steamys

326 notes · View notes

lunatens · 3 years

Text

scaredy cats

requested by bea (🌱✨anon) tysm bby!! i’m sorry this took so long, i made it a lil longer to make up for it :>

prompt: “uh...did the power just go out?”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff, high school au, childhood friends to lovers

pairing: lee chan x gn reader

warnings: there’s a thunderstorm and the power goes out!

[you: channieeeee pls come over~]

[chan: y??]

[you: do u rlly need a reason lmao i just wanna see my bestie]

[chan: it’s raining thoooooo]

[you: so? use an umbrella it ain’t a far walk]

[chan: okok i’ll come hang out]

[chan: i’m gonna kick ur ass at super mario party tho]

[you: in your dreams ;) see u soon bby!!]

slipping your phone into your pocket, you roll off your bed and excitedly rush to your front window, pulling the blinds aside so you can have a better view of the street outside. chan wasn’t kidding, it’s raining alright—heavy torrents of rain pour from the sky, and the clouds look a bit too dark for your liking. you bite your lip guiltily, feeling a little bad that chan’s walking here in this weather. at least he only lives a block over, you think to make yourself feel better.

chan’s been your best friend ever since he accidentally hit you in the face with a frisbee way back when you were just ten years old. your nose started bleeding, and chan panicked and tried to comfort you as he went with you to get cleaned up. even when the school nurse tried to send him back outside, he refused to leave until he knew you were okay. you tease him about this all the time, laughing at how overdramatic he was (”it was just a little nose bleed, chan” “okay but you were crying!!”) but you’re grateful for it, as you probably wouldn’t have become friends otherwise.

you smile to yourself as you think back fondly on the memories of your childhood with chan; it won’t be long till you’re both graduating high school, and it’s hard to believe it’s been so many years since that fateful frisbee incident. you can’t help but nervously wonder what the future will bring for you and chan, but you push those thoughts aside when you see a figure running down the street trying to cover his head as he sprints through the puddles. he slows down as he reaches your house, jogging up to your front door. not even giving him the chance to knock, you open the door for chan and usher him inside quickly.

“it’s a little wet out there,” he comments sarcastically, and a distant clap of thunder echoes through the sky as if to emphasize his point. you quickly shut the door and lock it, as if that’ll do something to keep the storm at bay.

“yeah, no kidding, you’re dripping all over the floor,” you comment. chan pulls of his drenched shoes and opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off before he can start.

“i’ll go get you some dry clothes, stay here so you don’t get the entire house wet,” you tell him as you rush to your room to search for something chan can wear. you find a couple of his sweaters lying around, one he forgot here just last week and the other one from god knows when. you decide to keep the more recent one and give chan the older one along with a pair of your sweatpants and some warm socks.

“here, catch,” you say as you throw the clothes towards chan, who’s now standing in a large puddle in your doorway. he’s caught off guard, and the clothes hit him square in the face.

“hey!!! i come all the way over here through a thunderstorm to see you just because you’re bored, and this is the thanks i get?” chan complains as he makes his way to your room to get changed.

“oh come on, i know you were just as bored as i was,” you tease, and chan can’t help but smile when you call him out.

“you got me,” he responds before slipping into your room and closing the door behind him. you proceed to hook up your nintendo switch to the tv, preparing for a night of video games and maybe a movie or two. as you connect the cables, you hear your bedroom door open and chan’s soft footsteps as he goes to throw his clothes in the dryer. he returns to the living room, flopping onto the couch and grabbing a controller.

“what do you want for dinner? my parents are away for the weekend so there’s frozen pizza or….some sort of leftovers i think?” you ask chan, making your way to the kitchen.

“you’re not gonna cook for me?” chan teases, knowing you sometimes struggle to make toast. you give him a look before digging the pizza out of the freezer. you preheat the oven and place the pizza on a tray.

“don’t forget to take the plastic off!” chan calls from the couch.

“i know, chan,” you say, but you’re glad he reminded you; that was a close one.

two hours and a slightly overcooked frozen pizza later, you and chan are yelling at the screen as your characters pummel each other in a heated round of super smash bros. it’s still heavily raining, but the sounds of the tv drown out the steady drumming on the roof and the increasingly loud and frequent thunder. the two of you hardly notice the flashes of lightning in the now-dark sky as you focus on the tv. you’re just about to smash chan’s character to oblivion when all of a sudden everything is pitch black and a blanket of dead silence washes over the house, save for the rain on the roof.

“uh...did the power just go out?” chan asks, the two of you sitting frozen on the couch. you turn your head to look at him, although there’s really no point--you can’t see anything.

“hm, yeah i think it did,” you say. you’re trying to tease him, but you can’t hide the fear wavering in your voice.

“where are you?” chan asks, voice equally fearful, and you reach out to feel for his outstretched hands in the dark. you find them, and the two of you grab onto each other and pull each other close. the room feels so empty without the bright lights from the tv and the chaotic yelling over the sounds of the game onscreen. now, there’s only the rain, louder than ever, although you swear you can hear your heartbeat out loud.

“i think we have some candles in the basement,” you whisper.

“noooooope, you’re crazy if you think i’m going down there; it’s scary even when the lights are on,” chan replies and you feel him shake his head. “what about that scented candle i gave you for your birthday?”

“ooh, good call! it’s in my room,” you remember. “let’s go,” you say, pulling out your phone to use as a flashlight. lightning outside lights up the room for a moment, and not too long after there’s a loud clap of thunder. both you and chan let out a small shriek, feeling your grips on each other tighten. now, is your heart beating from fear of the dark and stormy night? or from the way chan holds onto you for dear life? probably a mix of both, but you choose not to think about that right now.

“ok we’ll go on three, ready?” you say, waiting for chan’s response. you’re met with silence. “chan?”

“oh sorry, i forgot you can’t see me nodding. on three,” he confirms

“okay, one, two...three!” you count. on three, you pull chan off the couch and the two of you race hand in hand to your bedroom, guided by the bright light of your phone flashlight. you hesitantly let go of chan’s hand as you search for your candle and some matches. it doesn’t take too long to find them, and soon enough a flickering orange flame casts a faint flow around your room. you and chan climb onto your bed, you sitting up against the headboard and chan lying with his head in your lap. there’s enough light that you can now see each other’s silhouettes at least, and you look down to watch as the flame casts shadows that seem to dance across chan’s face. when did he grow up so much? you find yourself thinking, feeling like it was just yesterday the two of you were a couple of snot-nosed kids running around at recess. your fingers absentmindedly play with his hair as you’re lost in thought.

“this is kind of spooky, we should tell ghost stories!” chan suggests.

“or we could just talk and not scare ourselves into staying awake all night,” you reply.

“good idea,” he agrees, but neither of you say anything. you lie there in silence for a moment; the rain sounds a bit less violent from inside your room, and now that you can see a bit you find it’s quite a peaceful sound.

“mingyu asked me out today,” you tell chan. you’re not quite sure what possessed you to just tell him that out of the blue; you weren’t even planning on telling chan at all, but now you’ve gone and said it and you can’t take it back.

“really?? that’s great, y/n! when’s the date?”

you’re a bit disheartened at chan’s reaction; he seems genuinely excited for you, unless the shock is just masking his true feelings for now,

“i said no.”

“what?? why??? i thought you liked him?” chan sits up at this, his head now even with yours as he looks at you in shock.

“not anymore,” you say with a shrug. your voice is quiet, unsure of where this conversation will head.

“oh,” is all chan says. “is there...any particular reason?” he asks after a beat of silence. there’s something more in his voice now that wasn’t there before.

“i just don’t think he’s really my type,” you explain without elaborating.

“well, what is your type if not mingyu? he’s kind, smart, beautiful, tall...he’s got it all! i mean, you’ve had a crush on him for like, a year, and he finally asked you out and you said no?” chan says in mild disbelief.

“don’t get me wrong, mingyu’s a great guy and all, but i just-i think i realized i have feelings for someone else,” you say, voice trailing off to barely a whisper.

“really?? who is it?” chan asks all-too-eagerly, and you start to feel doubtful he likes you back.

“it’s no one.”

“awe y/n, don’t be like that! at least give me hints?” chan asks.

“fine,” you sigh, knowing he won’t leave it alone. “first of all, he’s annoying and loud,”

“that doesn’t sound like a crus-”

“do you want me to give you hints or not?”

“...yes please,”

“ok then shh. he’s annoying and loud, but it’s perfect because i am too so we get along really well. he’s also the most caring person i’ve ever met; i know he’d do anything for me if i asked him,” you continue, not sure how much you want to give away.

“wow, he sounds really great!” chan comments. to any other person, he’d sound excited for you, but you know him well enough to pick up on the slight disappointment in his voice, and it’s just the boost you need to keep going.

“he is; he’d even go out in a thunderstorm for me just because i said i’m bored,” you say and you turn to look at chan now. it’s too dark to read his expression, but you can see how he leans ever so closer to you.

“now that’s some dedication, i mean he sounds flawless,” chan teases. you can hear the smile in his voice, which makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

“the only problem is i’m not sure if he likes me back,” you whisper, your nose brushing the tip of chan’s, and before you know it his lips are on yours in a passionate yet gentle kiss. how you’ve gone so long without kissing chan you don’t know; the years of secret feelings all finally set free in this one kiss.

you didn’t lie about liking mingyu--you had actually thought you might’ve finally gotten over your feelings for chan and found someone else. for a couple of months it worked, and you found yourself distracted with thoughts of the tall boy instead of your best friend. but it all came crashing down when you caught the common cold the other week, and chan looked after you while you were sick--he even skipped class one day to make sure you weren’t lonely. all of your true feelings came rushing back to you, and you knew there were no hopes of losing them.

“what about now?” chan asks as he pulls away just enough to talk.

“i’m still not sure, he might have to kiss me again to convince me,” you say, unable to contain your smile. chan kisses you again, and it’s just as magical as the first time. a loud crack of thunder startles you, and you gasp as you latch onto chan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“you’re such a scaredy-cat,” he says, bringing his arms up to pull you closer.

“shut up so are you, i can hear your heart racing,” your voice is muffled by his sweater.

“maybe that’s just because of you,” he comments, stroking your hair.

“ew,” you reply, but your heart’s not in it; you can pretend to hate how cheesy chan is all you want, but internally you love it just as much as you love every other aspect of him.

59 notes · View notes

softkuna · 3 years

Text

playlist

› 𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘

› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

› 𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔

You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.

🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer

Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.

🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???

🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????

💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.

💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?

🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina

🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱

🗨️👀 👀 👀

🗨️Bo pls

As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.

💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.

🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄

🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP

By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.

But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.

Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.

A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.

As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“

“-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.

“Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.

“Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.

Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!

The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.

You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money. You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.

Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.

He pulled you you between the seats for a bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”

“You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”

“You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’

Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”

“Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.

“-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.

He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.

“Guys… what are you-“

A record scratch.

I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.

“You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.

“Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you, it's hard to survive!”

Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.

The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:

“'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go

Want you in my life!”

The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.

The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.

Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.

It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.

It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.

Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.

You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,

“Man, fuck.”

“What's wrong Bo?”

“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”

“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”

“Man, you're right”

“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.

“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.

“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.

“I guess it is okay.”

“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”

“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.

“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”

“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”

“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”

Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.

They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you’d definitely be revisiting this playlist.

#i had fun with this one #🐈.kuroo #🦉.bokuto #🍯.hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#kuroo tetsurou #kotaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #hq koutarou #kotaro bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo testurou x reader #haikyuu x reader

55 notes · View notes

kissesandcream · 3 years

Note

Im not good with making headcannons 😭 and I dont know if this is a headcannon either but I just think this is cute and funny soo I wanted to share I have a feeling If Kaeya have children or have to babysit kids in the Modern time He would be very good with it ESPECIALLY Kids that love Frozen like I can imagine him blasting the "let it go" song while acting like Elsa and make little snowflakes and also I have a feeling he is good at singing the song too also I can see the kid even will somehow succesfully make him use a Dress that that looks like Elsa's dress or actually an Elsa Cosplay dress (Or maybe even dress up in general LIKE THAT MAN PRETTY-) Like Imagine going home to Kaeya in a Dress while singing let it go "Hey guys Im back!~" You say signaling your presence as you put your shoes back where it belongs. You walked deeper into the house that you are now sharing.. or well more to living with your now beloved Husband, Kaeya. Your household can be labelled as quite a Lively one if it were to be compared with Diluc's. "Guys?" you called out again as you the put groceries that you were once holding to where it belongs. Weirdly Quiet is what one can describe if they were to be the one there. The quietness of the house was not something to celebrate rather is something to be concern, and that is exactly what you are feeling right now. The house was to quiet for your liking, because by now your Lover would probably be running downstairs to greet you while carrying your child so they can greet you too- and that is also what you expect everytime you come home and you know you will get it everytime. But right now there was no sign of it, no signs of your lover radiating his fun self that will always make you smile everytime, also no signs of your Loving and Lively child that will always give you comfort. You tried calling out a couple of times again, but the outcome was all the same... No responds. And you were not kidding when you say you start to panic a little as you explore your House and still havent found both of them yet until... You heard faint music in the distant. More specifically at the backyard. You immediately ran towards the backyard that was not that far at where you are at. The Closer you get the more louder and clearer the music and song so as you ran you make up the words to what the song is saying and you know well that the song is very familiar to your ears. Once you reach the backyard door you pause yourself before reaching the door handle to think on what is the worst scenario you will see and experience once you open the door. But you shake it off and took the door handle, pushing it open. And the moment you laid eyes on whats going on at the backyard your eyes Widen to the sight to see the whole backyard tho not much is covered in snow but what make shocked you even more is not that you have to later clean up the whole backyard BUT you are more shocked on the one Who's MAKING the snow.. Your Husband the Love of your life.. Is standing at the middle of your backyard in a DRESS singing Let it Go and your Child is not even concern about whats going on They were having laughing and singing along with their FATHER (which is Kaeya). "Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know-" "Well, now they know!" You cut him of in his singing and You can see him snap his head towards your direction in Shocked and his face was in Horror it was pale- he looked like he just saw a ghost. You cant help but laugh at his expression "LET IT GOO! LET IT GOO!" Your Child sang not minding the fact that they just got exposed and that their dad is in shades of red out of embarrassment. You took out your phone and Kaeya knew what was going to happen. "Wait- Love NO-" Kaeya shouted but was to late because the camera had done is Job. Your look at the picture smiling widely at it. "This will be one to remember.." you said happily as you pat Kaeya's back. But even with all you're teasing and the embarrassment Kaeya feels he smiles because he knew and agrees that it will be a memory to remember and a happy one to. He let

out a defeated sigh and pat your head "Indeed it will be.." "Also... who's dress is that-"

(I dont know what I just wrote but I hope its somehow can cheer you up- or just accompany you when you need company! Its weird but This is what I can do- Hope you enjoy it tho!)

HELP NOYA U WROTE ME A WHOLE FIC WTF

THANK U ITS GORGEOUS AND I LOVE IT 😭

kaeya def owns a bunch of dresses i take no criticism. him in an elsa dress,,,, i wanna draw that now oh my gods

sorry baal wip you'll have to wait ive gotta make way for loml princess kaeya <3 i would make the pic my wallpaper forever and ever pls

its so funny to think of him interacting with kids considering he canonically traumatized all of mondstadt's into believing lanterns were firefly souls 😭 but he can be wholesome if he wants <33

this made me smile tysm noya!! ur the absolute sweetest ilysm!! 💖

#; nymph chatter #noya ; fairy circle #THIS MADE MY DAY THANK U <333

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urmomification · 3 years

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WOOO POG DREAM SMP AU

theres 1.8k words and 9,393 characters of a schlatt au below the cut LMAO

[i was rambling to my friend and this is what came out of it! send me an abt it if u have questions i would love to talk abt it more pls]

(slight body horror/gore tw!!)

slams fists on table rattling any dishes on the table au where schlatt doesnt die of a heartattack and tubbo locks him up to rot basically and his horns grow into his eyes effectively blinding him and chained his hands together and basically a leash on him to keep him from moving around in his cell so he cant do anything to break the horns off before they get too long and one day when technos breaking into lmanberg he gets chased into the prison and loses them in the halls before coming across schlatts cell and schlatts calling out like 'whos there i can hear ur foot steps whos there please someone whos there' etc yk and technos speechless they thought they executed him to keep him from causing any more problems in the country but this is this is just much worse than anything he even thought theyd do and hes standing in front of schlatts cell just looking at him as if hes imagining it he knew lmanberg was bad but holy fuck they just let this man rot in a cell to the point of his own horns blinding him and giving him no aid or way to ease the pain so he makes himself known and schlatt 'ive never been so happy to see, well, hear an anarchist in my life, its good to see- hear you technoblade' and chuckles and blood runs down his face like tears would, few drops landing on his clothes before techno starts trying to get into the cell to take him out of there he cant leave him here sure he was an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but he had standards and now that schlatt wasnt in power he had nothing against him really considering he isnt a citizen of lmanberg so he manages to pick the locks enough to get him out of there, schlatts arm slung over technos shoulder they stumble out of the prison building and as they slowly make their way to the nether portal to get back to technos base, they run into tubbo and quackity, schlatts old right hand men and they try to stop techno bc hes well an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but the glare techno gives them levels them and theyre left staring at each other for a moment when schlatt 'whyre we stopped whos there tech' and techno mumbles 'tubbo and quackity schlatt' and schlatt just furrows his brows as far as he can without sending excruciating pain into his eye sockets before he purses his lips and asks 'are they going to try and stop us?' techno looks back at the other two 'no they wont, isnt that right boys?' tubbo and quackity slink away allowing techno and schlatt to the portal and them going thru, schlatt still silent as he tries not to trip over technos cape or off the ledge of the bridge passing over the lava lakes, they make it to the portal and begin the walk across the arctic tundra to technos house, philza isnt there right now so its just the two of them and techno leads him up the ladder to his room (its not really a room i think its just a bed, a bell and an enchantment table) and sits him down on his bed mumbling something abt being right back and he is with some medical supplies and a change of clothes to clean everything up, they dont talk techno works in silence and when schlatt winces he mumbles a small apology before continuing eventually techno got schlatt as cleaned up as you can get someone w horns in their eyes and a sweater to keep him warm and finally starts asking questions 'how long had u been in there' 'lost count' 'did they bring you food' 'a chests worth at the beginning of the month' techno sighs 'i thought they executed you' 'tubbo chickened out despite me being 'an active threat to our peace in lmanberg' and locked me up a few days after u set the withers loose and dropped off a chest of food once a month and most of them refused to talk to me others couldnt even make eye contact with me, other than the few instances where they said things like 'heres ur food' or 'u deserve this' or 'i cant believe tubbo let u live' i talked to no one other than myself for however long i was in there' techno stands and walks around for a moment before flipping some pages and schlatt can hear him gasp quietly in mild surprise 'what is it tech' looking in the direction he heard techno from and techno says, turning to face schlatt on his bed 'schlatt that was almost 3 months ago' a single beat of silence rings for what feels like forever 'oh. i, i didnt think itd been that long. though it would explain my current predicament' loosely gesturing towards his face 'oh right abt that i have a few questions if ur ready to answer some' schlatt hums and techno grabs a pen and paper and sits next to him in case he needs to take any notes for future reference 'how fast do ur horns normally grow' 'idk just a steady amount my whole life pretty much' 'will they ever stop growing' 'they generally stop growing around 30 and continue to grow more in width than length' 'did anyone who brought u food notice' 'they grow quickly and by the time the person w the third chest came around they were getting close to my eyes but they didnt listen to me, no one did' he sighs looking down at would be his hands 'the odds of both of my horns growing into my eyes and blinding me like this are so low but of course it would happen to me' a chuckle void of any amusement 'because losing my country and my people and my power wasnt enough already' techno stands up 'you had that coming' schlatt actually laughs this time, short and curt 'ok fair, u were the one that took me down afterall' and from then on schlatt lives w techno and phil and eventually tommy and then without tommy (tommy was Not happy when he found out that schlatt was living with techno but he needed somewhere to stay too and techno happens to live in an arctic tundra where only a handful of people know how to get to so he didnt complain too much) and eventually techno saws off schlatts horns at the bend adn removes them from his eyes bc if they kept growing into his head theyd hit his brain and kill him on top of blinding him and techno gags and almost throws up despite not being sensitive to gore and gives schlatt a bandanna to cover the holes in his head for everyones sake and once they heal somewhat he can find something else out and thats how they live, schlatt helps with what he can like farming w phil but mostly spends his time learning braille or something so he can read and techno gets him books in braille so he isnt bored or alone like he was in the prison and he feeds him and takes care of him and schlatt is funny and entertaining despite being blinded by something from his own body and the torture it was like to rot in a cell alone for almost a 1/4 of a year and nights when techno gets home late and hes shaken and the voices are bad schlatt will sit behind him and play with his hair and talk abt his own day and rub technos back and in return when schlatt relapses and gets violent and angry techno will wash his hair and read him stories until he calms down and hopefully asleep and no one told him the news that wilbur died so when ghostbur shows up and starts talking to him he treats him the same as he would wilbur bc he cant see that hes a ghost all thats different is his speech pattern and overall personality and one day he says 'ur different wilbur what happened to that, i dunno spark u used to have' and wilbur simply 'im not sure if im being honest a lot abt me has changed since i died, or so im told i dont remember much from when i was alive' and schlatt just 0_0 and then hes scrambling down the ladder and stumbling around the house looking for techno, finding him in the basement working on something and when he gets there hes out of breath and his hands are shaking bc holy shit wilburs not only dead but a ghost and he was just talking to me and he doesnt remember what i did and and and and techno is shocked to see schlatt in the basement and asks whats up and schlatt just 'wilbur died wilbur fucking died tech why didnt anyone tell him and now hes a ghost hes a fucking ghost who lives in ur house and doesnt remember anything he doesnt remember that he blew up lmanberg does he he remembers my name but not anything that i did what hes a fucking ghost techno hes a ghost holy fuck' and technos just standing there like ??? no one no one told him 'yea philza had to kill him after he blew up lmanberg i thought u knew thats why i didnt say anything' oh. 'phil, phil had to kill him?' 'yea its a touchy subject, dont bring it up' and simply goes back to what he was working on so schlatt sits on the ground by the ladder and listens to him work his brain going a mile a minute trying to comprehend whats going on 'would i have become a ghost if theyd chosen to execute me?' 'its hard to say im unsure if theres specific circumstances that contribuite to someone becoming a ghost but theres really no telling' and goes back to working yet again and from then on they fall into an easy schedule of techno going out and doing whatever an anarchist terrorist w a murder record does on ur average wednesday and schlatt stays home reading and organizing whatever he can based on size and feeling and sleeping in windowsills and schlatt greeting techno comes home beaten up and full of new resources and a side of bruises and cuts so he tends to them, getting better at maneuvering and functioning without needing to see then techno making dinner and then curling up by the fire for the night enjoying each others company as they talk abt their days :]

#dream smp #jschlatt #technoblade #sorry abt the lack of paragraph breaks i wrote this on discord and just copy pasted it #sorry if things dont make sense too! i just started watching a few weeks ago :]#looks at schlatt and technoblade: i just think theyre neat #also this isnt intended to be a ship au or anything but u can interpret it as whatever #fic au idea

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mavspeed · 3 years

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First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Hey @applesfallingfromblondehair, thanks for the tag love!! likewise i dont usually do this but this feels interesting so lets see if my ass has improved over the last few stories lmfkjgjk

also this will prob be a mix of xmcu fic + kingsman fic bc i think i have a more or less equal number of fics written for both

The first time Charles meets Lucifer Morningstar, actual devil from hell, ruler of the underworld, fallen son of the lord above and god knows what else, it had been after Erik had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the highest security cell in the Pentagon.

- this is from a professor and a devil walk into a bar, which is kinda a crossover rarepair fic that rose out of me and mutuals on twitter discussing tom ellis and james mcavoy being roommates and kinda... devolved from there. i am proud of this one lmfnjgkj

“Are you okay, Professor?” Hank asks quietly.

Charles blinks. He supposes it’s a valid question. He’s been in a bit of a funk the past few days- scratch that actually, the past few years. He’s just lost so much- his father, and then his mother’s love, and then Raven and Erik and Sean and countless others. Building a school, gaining students he loved to teach and nurture hadn’t helped him in the slightest, and he’s as lost as he ever was, wandering the halls of a drafty mansion alone, feeling like he’s been stranded at sea even whilst surrounded by people.

- from in the belly of the beast, which again came out of me wondering what would have happened if fox had gone w their original plan and charles had been that last horseman instead of erik. this story will prob gain a sequel... sometime in the near future when im not too bogged down by current wips

The Xavier family hall of the deceased- because of course they’re weird enough to have a cemetery- is full of rows upon rows of holograms. Charles is four and gets bored of his father crying over his mother’s hologram, so he toddles over to the other rows. Unfamiliar names, all of them- Charles is young, and he doesn’t understand death. He doesn’t even know who his mother is, who’d died at childbirth and left him with a father still at a loss when it came to bringing up a kid.

- from tequila on a spaceship, the sequel to a fic that still has some people angry at me i think. this fic never did gain as much traction as the first one but im still proud of it esp since it discusses certain themes of reincarnation that ive always wanted to see explored for myself in reincarnation aus (and i only ever saw it in danveresque’s reincarnation au)

There are cork boards covering every inch of the wall. Red strings, photographs, conspiracy threads, everything. Raven takes it in, swallowing, noticing the picture in the middle.

It’s one of Charles, when he’d been in university. His final year- he'd just been done presenting his year- end project, his fringe a tumbled mess and a bright smile on his lips. Erik had taken the picture, Charles scurrying to his side once he’d been done and demanding to look at the image, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He looks like how Raven had always imagined him to be.

“He wouldn’t want this,” she finally says, turning to look at Erik.

- from tequila on a beach, the first fic to the fic above. this fic is v special to me because i actually wrote this on a spiral after having a very tough visit with one of my parents in the hospital after a surgery for organ removal to prevent the onset of cancer. its simpler than my other fics yet i think more powerful because of what happens. also i think the first time i killed charles off lol (spoiler alert). also idk if ppl were aware of this but this is called tequila on a beach precisely bc charles and erik were tipsy from tequila at a frat party and then went to a beach. its the way they first met (and will continue to meet for all their next lives)

Erik doesn’t know how it all started. Maybe it was when his insane sergeant had started rambling about imaginary cities, treasures of gold and cursed incantations. Maybe it was when trickles of rumours had started pouring down about the higher ups wanting to investigate unfound territory, disregard the Egyptian government’s feelings on the matter, and put a previously unfound myth on the map for all the world to see. Or maybe, Erik thinks, it was when archaeologist Klaus Schmidt put a bullet through his mother’s head and he ended up going to America armed with dual citizenship and the sole intent of wanting to drive a coin directly between Schmidt’s eyes, joining a division of the American military focused solely on guarding archaeological digs- more importantly, in Egypt, where Schmidt’s interest had shifted.

- from courting the end of the world, another one i’m just insanely proud of! this is the first time i’ve ever attempted a multichapter movie au and it actually managed to work pretty well, i at least haven’t run out of inspiration for it yet lmfjgjg. also erik as himbo rick connell... very rent free in my head

The day after they murder Shaw and leave his house of horrors, Erik crosses the Canadian border with Charles across his back. Charles had started getting tired while they’d been walking, stumbling and nearly tripping until Erik had forced him to get on his back, ignoring Charles’ protests.

The blood’s seeping out steadily from Charles’ nose, staining his shirt and soaking it through. It’s been leaking on and off, and the effects are already obvious in the dark circles beneath Charles’ eyes. Any more, and Erik knows they’ll have to find him a doctor. He hopes the nearest town in Canada has one that would be willing to treat them.

- from a world built for two. i actually dk where the inspiration for this came from, i think i was once again on a depressive spiral and wanted to break my comfort characters into pieces and put them together again. this also deals with codependency and unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result of trauma which i showed as sweet in the fic but i would def not recommend in real life. pls if u relate to either charles or erik in this go see a therapist

The call comes in the afternoon, an hour before Charles is supposed to teach his Intro to Genetics class. Frowning, Charles abandons the game of Candy Crush he’d admittedly been playing rather badly and picks it up. “Charles sp-”

“We need you, Prof,” Kitty says desperately into the phone. “He’s been in a temper all morning, and then Alex’s reports missed out a whole subsection, so he’s fired the entire marketing team! Please, Professor, you have to come immediately!”

- from and we can be pirates. i wrote this in like 4 seconds for my friend who wanted professor charles and ceo erik and actually did not expect this to gain the attention it did... its always the fics u write in like 4 seconds lmfjggj. a sequel for this Is coming too probably at some point in the very far future

Charles Xavier can admit as he sits across from Essex, hands cuffed to the desk, that in hindsight, this had perhaps not been one of his better ideas.

He refuses to admit it as he controls Erik’s mind, preventing him from lashing out and making him close his eyes to the nightmare unfolding in front of him. He refuses to admit it as he gets shoved into the back of a black pickup truck, and the butt of a gun is smashed across his forehead hard enough to knock him out cold for a few hours. He refuses to admit it when he wakes up what appears to be hours later in a cold interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, with a suppression collar rendering his mind dark and almost achingly silent.

- from from the land of gods (bring me home). i’ve been struggling w this fic a lot (it didnt come as easily to me as the first one did) but its getting there. also i put charles through hell in this rip sorry mister xavier

In the aftermath, both of them stand at the border of the mansion. The air feels frigid, slicing into Raven’s lungs like a thousand paper cuts. “Charles, please,” she begs, heart in her throat and voice hoarse. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you to do this. It’s not too late, you can come back.”

Charles gazes back, a brick wall. He hasn’t even cleaned up, still in that damnable yellow and blue suit with blood drying in the corners of his mouth, the bridge of his nose. There’s nothing in his eyes- blank, almost see through. He looks as if he’s a mere shade, a ghost lounging about where he once was. Raven knows better.

“I will raze the world to the ground,” he finally says, his voice free of any inflection, “and when I’m done, no one will be left standing. Not you, and certainly not me.”

- from where all the poets went to die, a dark fic based on what would have happened if moira had killed erik with the bullets. its the first time ive written dark charles and it was v fun if im being honest

10.

Charles is a light sleeper. It’s a trait that stays with him- all the way from his father and the tests to taking care of his mother to Cain Marko and his fists to Cuba and then now, the dust of Washington settling over him and making the waking world lie an inch beyond his eyelids. It therefore stands to reason that the second the windowsill creaks he’s up in a shot, hoisting himself up and lashing out with his telepathy instantly.

That’s not a trait that had stayed with him. That’s a newly formed trait, bitter and bold, carved into existence by Cuba by his students disappearing one by one in Vietnam by the letters that announce Sean’s death in black unfriendly print by-

The tendrils of his telepathy forged cold and distant meet a barrier and recoil, stunned. He focuses his eyes and then widens them, staring at Erik who stares back, hidden beneath that infernal muddied magenta helmet of his. They stare at each other for a moment before Erik clears his throat.

- from in the valley of kings (you will come home). my first ever cherik fic! im actually also proud of this one even if i ended it horribly and half my mutuals refuse to read it bc of how it ended LMFJGJGJ. i cant believe this was supposed to be a funny and cute kid fic and then i turned it into an angst ridden mess. also leo is actually an oc whose adult version is fancasted as charlie rowe by me and another mutual on twitter and im v proud that readers are willing to die for the baby

11.

Mike has to google it, finding a crafts shop nestled into the corner of the street right smack in the middle of Louisiana, past a long and winding dirt road and the crumbling farmhouses relics of a time long past. The air is hot, humid, sticking to the back of his neck like an unwieldy parasite as he pushes the door of the shop open to the sound of the bell tinkling above.

He finds the origami paper quickly enough and has a momentary breakdown about what Bill’s favourite colour even is- he had never thought to ask him. Twenty seven years of following every single footstep of his like a dedicated, most definitely creepy stalker, three months of more than a few states traversed with Bill’s laughter now echoing in his ears like a shadow that trails after him, and this is what stumps him. It takes ten minutes, but he finally settles on light green.

- my first and last entry into the IT fandom bc i love these two but to be very fair there isn’t much content out there for him (and twitter content actually intimidates me lmfjgjjg) a thousand paper cranes never got much traction either but i suspect its bc i was horrible at promoting it. also i very much love this fic even if it never did that well bc ive always wanted to write a fic like this after watching the movie in cinemas in 2019

12.

ok nsfw i guess

Mornings start like this- Eggsy snuffling into David’s neck, attempting to work his way back up to wakefulness as David sleeps the sleep of the dead, the streams of morning sunlight gradually lightening up the room. It’s a while before he gets the energy to sit up, pushing an eager V off the bed- V for Vendetta, a kitten named after one of David’s favourite movies that they’d adopted about a month after moving in together- before stumbling to the loo. He’s already in the shower when David comes in, naked as the day he’s born with his arms entwining themselves around Eggsy’s waist as he murmurs a sleep-soft, “Good morning, love,” as he presses a kiss into the two-days-old hickey on Eggsy’s shoulder. His breath smells of toothpaste, the minty fresh kind he insists on buying from Target no matter how much Eggsy insists that the other brand is much better. Without fail, Eggsy always has a split second thought of thinking that he must truly be in heaven because no way can this be his reality, every single day, before sinking to his knees and allowing David’s cock to hit the back of his throat.

- from that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. i genuinely wish i had an opinion for this but i don’t remember writing this its been way too long

13.

The first time Eggsy sees her is in Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square is uncomfortably packed on any normal day, but on New Year’s it is quite the hothouse. Sweating armpits and hot bodies plastered against each other, the twinkling lights overhead providing a flash of blue and green and yellow and red, screaming children and giggling teenagers shoving their way through- it’s a recipe for disaster. Eggsy doesn’t know how he ends up there. It happens sometimes- one second he blinks, sequestered in the comfort of his living room, and the next he’s somewhere else, as if he’s been teleported. “Life goes past you,” Tilde had said once, “and you don’t even notice.” Tilde would be right.

- this is a roxy and eggsy friendship centric fic that i abandoned bc i lost my ardor for this world about the same time i got into xmen lmfjgjg. all the king’s horses also had some great fancasts in it with dev patel fancasted too... rip ig

14.

once again, nsfw

Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus.

For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything.

- from do you ever dream of me. im actually proud of this fic and this series, i never usually write straight up porn or friends w benefits and i think it worked well in here. once again didnt get much traction but that was very of the norm for my kingsman fics lmfjgj

15.

It is on his fifth meeting with the therapist on site that she brings the issue up. The elephant in the room- or the bomb , David thinks morbidly. If asked, he can’t remember specifics about that day now. All he remembers is this- the burn of Julia’s picture in his wallet against his thigh, the Botticelli painting on the far wall and Miss Paulson’s face, severe and unsmiling.

“When you couldn’t reach Julia,” she says, after he finishes describing the feeling of running to Julia, the panic searing his chest as he’d prayed for his legs to work faster so he could do something, anything to reach her hand. “How did that make you feel?”

- from your haunted social scene. i genuinely... do not remember anything about this either helpfkjgjg,,, this has 55 comments tho which. Nice

16.

David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night. It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.

- from a cat named lavender. from what i remember this was also my first try at bringing up trans eggsy

17.

He first appears at the black prince on a cold Monday evening, eyes like Frank Sinatra and lips arresting anyone’s gaze if they weren’t careful enough. He stood out too, clad in a respectable bomber jacket and boots that clicked against the tile rhythmically and loudly, a sort of organised, measured cacophony.

“Go and serve him,” Andrew said, fat and disinterested, seated behind the counter and idly flicking through bills, less than ten percent of which he pays Eggsy. “I’m busy.”

- from trust is left in lovers after all. i never continued this which is sad bc this did get a lot of attention... it was just v hard to keep the story going

18.

It usually rains cats and dogs in London but for some reason, the rain is heavier than usual today. The droplets splatter against the windows in a constant buzzing rhythm, the sound meshing together in a melody not altogether pleasant to the ears. It’s half past five and yet the light has to be kept on because that’s how dark the sky has gotten- thunder rolls like a loud crack, abrupt and deafening, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.

“Just a thunderstorm, flower,” Eggsy says. They’re seated at the dinner table, Eggsy going over her homework while David sits opposite them, hunched over his laptop as he attempts to finish a post mission report. Eggsy is half convinced he gave up ten minutes ago- he’s got his earbuds in and he hasn’t really typed anything in a while, eyes focused on the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched up in a glare that’s too adorable for his own good- and for Eggsy’s.

- from could feel like kryptonite. a lot of my kingsman fics are actually so much happier than my cherik ones... i should prob look into that rip

19.

“When you’re done lazing around you can come in, you dozy dog,” he tells Officer Oatmeal, who butts her nose into his knee. She’s the only one not on a diet in the house, Eggsy deeming her far too healthy and skinny to need one anyway. In fact, she’s under strict instructions by Eggsy to fatten up instead.

Once the animals are done feeding- Eggsy sporting a suspicious scratch on his left forearm- they settle down to eat their scrambled eggs and toast. David’s taken a large gulp of his scalding coffee when Eggsy says, all of a sudden, “So, I have a school reunion.”

- from gonna set this dance alight. don’t remember much about this either tbh

20. (the last one FINALLY)

It isn’t a big event or explosion that makes David realise he wants to see his father’s ring sitting pretty on Eggsy’s index finger. No teary confessions in the rain like in the rom coms Eggsy loves to rent out and sniffle his way through, or a fight that makes David see sense. In the end, it’s breakfast that cinches the deal for him.

The day had started out normally enough. David wakes up at eight like clockwork, the soft downy hair at the base of Eggsy’s neck tickling his nose with his arm locked tight around his waist. He’d yawned, exhausted- mostly because they’d stayed up very late into the night making good use of the bed- before standing up and shucking his shirt off to head for the shower. Eggsy had shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and the sight had been too endearing to resist so he’d bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when Eggsy groaned out loud.

- from lover boy rules. i actually started a lot of my kingsman fics in the same way which is rather awful of me. im glad thats changed with my xmen fics lmfjgjk. also this has 15 comments???? i dont even get that much attention with my xmcu fics these days... which is arguably a more active fandom... Hello

anyway that’s the end of it needless to say i do not know 10 other authors so im just gonna tag whoever i know rn: @hellfre , @queerneto, @ikeracity, @drinkingstars, @zebraljb

#whew this is super long i apologise #u can pinpoint the exact time i replaced taron with james as my number one boy #fic tag #fic meme

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miracvlovs · 3 years

Text

✗✗✗ you see [ kaleb yıldırım ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis male ] is up to no good. [ he / him ] has been here for [ five years ] now but they’re still pretty [ abrasive ] which is fine because they’re also [ debonair ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-eight ] year old [ hitman for hire ] actually looks like a lot like [ alperen duymaz ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ strong cigarettes & even stronger whiskey ].

hey, hello, hi, bonjour! s’up buttercups? ‘tis i, your friendly neighbourhood loser chrissie ( a.k.a an irish doofus who is utter plot trash and the actual WORST at keeping track with discord messages, oops ) and i’m super duper excited to be here among you fab human beings! anywho, this is my first kiddo kaleb and he is … how do you say … morally grey. basically his morals are very questionable in every aspect. but! on the plus side, he’s very talented and good at his job even if he is ruthless and callous, oop. he is … the worst and also lowkey messed up inside tbh so pls excuse his blunt and sarcastic nature. plot-wise i’m open to literally anything and everything so come at me with any ideas ya got! i’m always diggity down to spit ball ideas and form some dope connections so pls feel free to invade my ims or hmu on le cord ( chrissie.#9606 ) and we can brainstorm until our heart’s content! if ya wanna, go ahead and light that lil grey heart up red and i’ll shimmy my butt your way for all of the good stuff. anywho, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?

fundamentals.

KALEB EMER YILDIRIM — twenty-eight, hitman for hire, + one snarky son of a gun / troubled dude with daddy issues / all issues tbh !

aesthetics ➤ dried blood caked into the grooves of cut knuckles, the lingering scent of smoke and gasoline, silver slivers of past scarring, five o’clock shadow peppering a blunt jawline, discolourations of blue and purple decorating battered hands, a subtle smirk etched upon a devious countenance, calloused fingertips riddled with small paper cuts, dark circles under almost-black eyes, the noise of screeching tires in the middle of the night, a tall stature adorned in all-black attire, ghosts of bruises staining calloused skin green, a scuffed zippo lighter in a pack of marlboros containing only one cigarette, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a sly grin under stormy dark eyes, a sniper on the roof of a deserted building, the roar of a car engine, & clenched, white-knuckled fists.

nicknames. kal.

date of birth. november third.

gender. cis male.

pronouns. he + him.

birthplace. manhattan, nyc.

orientation. bisexual + aromantic.

education. bachelor of music degree obtained from manhattan school of music.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, turkish, spanish, & french.

negative traits. haughty, abrasive, enigmatic, cynical, temperamental, calculating, hedonistic, distant, sarcastic, & volatile.

positive traits. adept, diligent, charming, resilient, candid, adept, charming, audacious, determined, & resourceful.

strengths. efficient, energetic, self-confident, strong-willed, strategic thinker, charismatic, & inspiring.

weaknesses. stubborn, dominant, intolerant, impatient, arrogant, poor handling of emotions, cold, & ruthless.

talents. piano, retaining information, memory recall, lock-picking, carjacking, hand-to-hand combat, automobile knowledge, tracking people down, & excellent problem-solving abilities.

physiology. dark brown eyes. dark brown hair. six feet, one inch tall. of a lean, broad stature with a straight posture and evident height. has a few silvery scars littered across his skin. has a few tattoos in a few less visible places. is ambidextrous.

psychology. scorpio zodiac. water element. slytherin house. entj-a. chaotic neutral. type eight enneagram. choleric temperament. interpersonal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, prescription drugs, cocaine, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and insomnia. his vices are lust, wrath and pride. his virtues are ... honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers : infidelity, divorce, alcoholism, drug abuse, cancer, death, car crash, funeral, blood, murder, suicide mention, gun mention, & various references to death and murder.

a synopsis. ah, here he is—my tol, troubled, grouchy son : ' ) don't u just adore ur resident trashy, snarky, but precious and sad fuckboi muse? bc i know I DO! anyways, before i digress, i'll cut to the chase. so, waaay before he blessed the universe with his presence, his mother ( who was originally from turkey ) moved to the states where she met one alexander hale. you can probably guess the rest: the pair married, they had children, everything seemed to be going swimmingly, yada yada. here’s a lil background: the hale family—a line of manhattan-born businessmen / lawyers / diplomats etc. they're dripping in wealth, not always as squeaky clean as they portray themselves as to be. kaleb’s dad was a douche, expected both of his sons to follow in his shadow and become lawyers, ran around behind his wife's back: the whole shoot and shebang of a classic a-hole. he always kind of ignored kaleb in favour of his eldest son joshua so kaleb kinda became hard-hearted and resentful due to the lack of his father's attention. skip a few years and he spied his dad cheating on his mother with his secretary though he refused to tell another soul for fear of any potential backlash. soon enough, his mother found this out for herself, their argument ruined his thirteenth birthday party then they divorced soon after. his mother fell off the wagon, became terminally ill—all while his father was remarrying and expecting a daughter with his secretary. it was a hella rough two years for kaleb. it got even worse. eventually, his mother passed away and his step-mother divorced his father to breeze off into the sunset with her new lover; leaving her daughter with her piss-poor excuse of a dad. at this point, kaleb was lonely and angry but adopted the role of his step-sister's protector, shielding her from their father's increasing substance abuse induced violence. just before his seventeenth birthday, his father died in a car crash. of course, he didn't entirely mourn the loss. almost immediately, he and his younger sister moved in with their elder brother who helped kaleb get into university. with dear ole dad out of the picture, he could finally pursue his interest and flair for music. after he graduated, he moved to santa ysabel with his brother and brother's family. in the beginning, things were going fine. yeah, sure, he was struggling for work and felt bad that his brother had to keep him afloat. normal stuff. then, one day, things quickly turned sour in his world. [ TRIGGER FOR GORE, BLOOD, SUICIDE MENTION, GUN MENTION, MURDER, DEATH ] he’d came home to find the locks on the doors busted, advancing into the house carefully only to find his brother’s lifeless corpse crumbled on the kitchen tiles: his throat and wrists slashed, posed as a suicide. of course, kaleb knew better. he knew his brother; knew he would never leave him or his family. upon further inspection of the house, he’d discovered the body of his wife upstairs: a bullet hole between her eyes. [ TRIGGER OVER ] the whole ordeal was enough to turn his stomach but once the sickness had subsided, all kaleb felt was a strong thirst for blood. sure, it was pretty damn stupid to try and seek revenge or whatnot ... but kaleb had always been one to let his heart guide his brain. anyways, time skip now to the moment he’d uncovered his brother’s entanglement with some dodgy loan shark, drug dealing criminals who were responsible for his murder. in the end, he’d hunted them down and eradicated them one by one, over a span of weeks. at first, he hated himself and what his desire for vengeance had turned him into but he kept going until he’d got them all: until he’d grown numb. truthfully, how he wound up taking lives for a living is beyond him. he woke up one day, found himself hired by some big-wig businessman who wanted rid of his business partner and et voilà, he was tangled up in the dark side of existence. i mean, was he blackmailed into doing his first paid hit? yes. but who can blame him? especially when they claimed to have intel regarding the sudden demise of a prominent figure in the criminal underbelly of the city, a.k.a his brother’s killer. it was a risk kaleb simply couldn’t take. he prefers to keep himself anonymous, hidden behind shadows, unsuspecting. death has become a job. nothing more. nothing less. it’s simply the algorithm of his existence: receive a dossier, take care of the target, get paid a hefty lump sum. and all just for enacting a stranger’s revenge in the blood of another. he moves like a deadly phantom, his footsteps light as a feather, whipping through the night like a bullet through a target’s skull. sartre claims that hell is other people. and if you were to stare into kaleb’s eyes—eyes eerily similar to having been cut from coal—you might just see hell and everyone in it staring right back at you. as nietzsche wrote: “ he who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. and if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. ”

random extras.

he has a lot of small scars over his body, most of which he can’t account for or has forgotten about.

owns and drives a black 1969 boss 429 mustang which he loves arguably more than he loves himself.

speaking of, he actually is full of self-hatred so don’t let the haughtiness fool you.

trusts nobody but himself and is loyal to nobody but himself.

has a lot of anger issues so often ends up taking part in underground fights.

he rates around a solid three on the kinsey scale.

is a distant person; closed-off emotionally and prefers to keep himself to himself.

when it comes to whether or not he is morally decent or an extremely bad person, he is somewhere in the middle of that spectrum.

he isn’t heartless but he isn’t exactly compassionate either.

kind of shady but knows how to pass himself as charming.

has been thru sum shit n seen sum shit so he’s v messed up inside.

though he does have a soft spot for animals and children.

his marksmanship is impeccable.

he’s naturally gifted with firearms and his shot is always on point.

dark eyes and bruised knuckles are his ultimate aesthetic tbh.

actually really appreciates classical music, though he’ll never tell. blame it on his piano lessons from childhood.

speaking of piano, he’s low key gifted at playing although he rarely does these days.

has a very short fuse and can lose his temper quite easily.

he has a good heart and good intentions when it comes to those he actually cares about although he’ll never let this show.

favourite coping mechanism? isolation.

a bit of a lone wolf. he keeps people at arm’s length but acts in a way where people are under the illusion he’s their friend.

basically the tall, dark and handsome trope: ( most of the tall, dark and handsome men display aloof, cold and distant personality but they do have a gentle and caring side. )

is a little snarky and grumpy but if you manage to break this exterior, you’ll find he’s quite witty and easy going.

he got into fighting at a young age. it was the only way to try and learn how to defend himself against his father.

sleep?? he doesn’t know her.

tends to repress his emotions until he explodes.

healthy coping mechanisms?? he doesn’t know them either.

is prone to pushing the self destruct button.

you can find a pinterest board for him by clicking anywhere here.

#hey hi hello happy to be here !!!#this is my son kal n he's ... A LOT.#show this some luv n i'll come atcha for plots !!!#indulgence.intro

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