#HI ANON SO I HAVE A FEELING I MIGHT BE LATE TO THIS ASK BC I NEVER GOT A NOTIF FOR IT AFAIK

[soobnny]

dating him | yang jeongin

❝ why’d you come into my life so late? ❞

chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | JEONGIN

guys this one’s a secret romantic

even the boys are shocked when he tells them he has a gf now so casually

like WDYM ?!!??

anon said this but picture the boys eating at a restaurant

and the boys r like the food here is crazy good like how’d u find this place

and he goes idk my gf recommended it

and then there’s silence

before all hell breaks loose

bc wdym … wdym u have a gf and u didn’t tell us ????????????

dramatic faces of betrayal from hyunjin and han i can imagine bc their baby didn’t tell him

i think seungmin would know just bc they’re dorm mates and i think jeongin trusts to ask him advice without BOOKING him to the boys

he seems nonchalant on the outside, just a silly boy

but he’s the sweetest

i think he’d treat love so gently ☹️☹️

he’s always wanted to explore romance, always wanted to find it

he couldn’t ever admit it out loud bc he knows he’d get teased

he was the boys’ baby after all

and since he was the boys’ baby, by association, you were now their baby too

u two are the couple they adore

they act like they’re ur parents

chan dad mode activated

anyways he’s kind of emotional and sensitive

so i think the both of u navigate through love for the first time together

it’s a lot of ups and downs

BUT …. it’s led to him realizing just how much he loves you

i totally believe you’d go on either the most goofy dates or very expensive dates

no in between

he’d be the type to treat you and have staycations at 5-star hotels

you’d just cuddle and watch movies and eat room service

YES I SAID CUDDLE

even the boys were shocked when they saw it for the first time

bc ?!!!???? their baby ?!!!?? physical touch ?!!?

jeongin never minds when it’s with u

but it’s also something he’s had to learn

he’s very appreciative of ur patience

anyways back to ur dates

i can imagine u guys just buying a bunch of strawberry cakes and doing a taste testing

like u’d record it and everything

u can’t post it bc he kisses u like 928373 times in that video

there’s a makeout session like once

oh, and dinner dates

and very competitive rock paper and scissors over who pays for the food

except when he loses, he’d cheat and say he’d go to the bathroom but he’s actually paying for it

so keep ur eyes on that boy

i think he’d also be the type to really enjoy clothes shopping with you

you’d just put on a fashion show for each other

he’d end up buying a few things he rly liked on you

he’s got good fashion sense

might sneak in a matching item or two

maybe some shoes so it’s more subtle

jeongin also loves playing tourist in ur own city

the two of u would just walk around

visit some tourist spots

take pictures even

it’s just rly funny and rly cute

it feels a lot like being a kid again with him

u guys even buy useless toys for kids and bring them back to the dorm

😭😭😭😭

this includes like those little charms for kids

u two end up making craft bracelets and necklaces

and even tho they look ridiculous, u wear them in public

this is ur own version of promise rings

anywahs minho ends up taking some of the toys u’d bought for his cats

when the boys come home, u two are usually just cooped up in jeongin’s room

bc he wants his privacy!!!!!!!!

but when he lets it slip, and u two fall asleep on the couch, expect lots of pictures taken

i’m sorry

the boys are also emotional

they’d wake u up so u guys can have dinner together

he’d get so blushy and embarrassed and threaten his hyungs ofc

han jisung: when will it be my turn ???

they just want love from innie too

UGHHGHG kicking each other’s foot under the table while eating

he loves annoying u

but u love annoying him equally

when u aren’t over at the dorms

he’d be the type to text you random links on youtube at 3am

those charlie bit my finger type beat

gorilla destroys crocodile epic video

jeongin also gives me the “sends u things” vibe

u’d suddenly receive flowers without warning

or get those “did you eat?” texts and if u say no, yeah, best believe he’s already delivering food to u

hmmmmm u’d probably be his plus one in fancy events

but u guys end up ditching those to eat at fast food chains

yes … in ur very fancy dress and his rly sexy suit …. out in a fast food restaurant

u guys get weird looks but

jeongin doesn’t mind 🙁

as long as he’s happy with u

AWWWWWWWW

u guys also attend or volunteer for charity events together

i think he’s rly found his match

treat each other well !!!!!

congrats on finding love

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[vxsellie]

UHH IM THER PERSON WHO ASKED FOR FIREFIGHTER!ElLLIE HEADCANONS AND TBH IDRM😇

synopsis. more aflame headcannons bc anon sent a second ask saying they actually want it to be specific LMAO

notes. when i tell you my inbox is flooded with questions about aflame / whether there will be a part two / etc etc etc, i mean it's FLOODED. ive said no to a part two, but i decided doing this for u guys might settle u down & put a rest to the millions of asks i get daily on that fic also! i already posted a small thing about ellie & the reader's life together following the story, but i will be repeating things from that post

warnings. mentions of grief (unnamed character dw), discussion of infant death (also unnamed but still a bit heavy), eventual sex (not necessarily smut but enough that i feel i should put a warning)

𐙚 after everything, you ended up staying with ellie for about a month

𐙚 okay so you obviously ended up staying with her & lived happily ever after

𐙚 but lets yap about the slow burn era that inevitably took place beforehand shall we

𐙚 first of all! for the first two weeks, she gave you her room and insisted on sleeping on the couch. you, of course, felt horribly guilty. but ellie was set on giving you the good option & she's quite the force to be reckoned with when she's arguing.

𐙚 so you eventually just gave in and slept in her bed.

𐙚 it was warm and clean and smelled like her. you loved it. the only thing it was missing, however, was her.

𐙚 to make matters worse, you knew ellie was only a short distance from you & yet it felt like you were eons apart. you felt the empty space in her bed like a hole in the earth, always hard to face whilst simultaneously always begging for your attention.

𐙚 understandably, these two weeks spent in separate sleeping quarters was nigh unbearable for you. but you felt out of place to bring it up. i mean, you'd only known her for a short amount of time. who were you to tell her to change the layout she'd si graciously designed for you?

𐙚 you spent the nights yearning for a woman whose touch you'd barely known, cold despite the heavy blankets atop you.

𐙚 but the days were amazing.

𐙚 you'd developed the habit of cooking breakfast after making it that first morning as a thanks for her hospitality. but after seeing the bright look on her face, you'd instantly decided you wanted to make her breakfast every day for the rest of your life.

𐙚 then, following breakfast, you'd get ready in the small bathroom. the first few days, you bumped into one another an immeasurable number of times, ellie apologizing over & over for the lack of space. but you loved it. it felt more intimate, seeing her rush while brushing her teeth because she'd woken up late. it felt like a life you could get used to. one with her.

𐙚 ellie continued to go to work, throwing on her uniform that you tried your hardest not to swoon over seeing her in. that thin black tank top she wears without a bra? fuck you had to force yourself to look away when she stretched her arms up to brush her hair.

𐙚 when she was gone, you spent your time looking for a new place to stay, lazing about the couch with the tv playing low in the background.

𐙚 oh and also! your fucking boss fired you. despite having worked at that stupid grocer for a year now, he didn't hesitate to fire you after missing a few days. you'd even told him that your apartment burned down. he was insistent that punctuality was key. god you hated him.

𐙚 though, your hatred dulled in comparison to the pure rage ellie felt when you told her the news. she was absolutely appalled that someone could be so inhumane as to not give a damn that your home was now a pile of ash on some pavement. she begged you for his number, promising not to say anything bad. but you knew her better than that. you knew she'd call him insults that'd destroy his elderly pea brain. so, apologetically, you refused her his phone number.

𐙚 so, while ellie was away, you also browsed your laptop for open job opportunities near you.

𐙚 ellie said that she could talk miller into hiring you, but you weren't so sure the life of firefighting was for you. plus, you liked seeing ellie in her uniform without having to experience the obligations that come with it.

𐙚 when ellie got home from work every day, she'd be sweaty and gross and exhausted. she'd formed the habit of flopping down on the couch as soon as she gets home, but you've managed to rid her of that once you saw the grimy muck she'd left on the cushions. she's now learned to shower and change before getting on any furniture. honestly, she seems to like that habit more anyway. she refuses to admit it, but you can tell she enjoys the warm water relaxing her muscles and washing away her fatigue.

𐙚 amber also loved it there, alternating between cuddling up with you in ellie's bed or snuggling at ellie's feet on the couch.

𐙚 well, until the day you guys decided to sleep in the same bed.

𐙚 she had come home after a particularly taxing day at work — the first rescue she'd carried out since saving you. it was a single mother and two twin infants. one of the twins didn't make it, sending the mother into a grief ridden spiral. she was sobbing and angry and needed someone to blame. she ended up blaming ellie, the woman whose name she didn't even know. it was horrible. not that ellie could blame her for it. grief comes in every shape and form, and for this woman she just so happened to take the sharp end of the sword.

𐙚 ellie, being who she was, stayed relatively composed during the event itself. the woman banged on her chest as she wailed, shouting that she should have done more and she would have preferred to have burned.

𐙚 eventually, one of Ellie's coworkers dragged the woman away from her and ellie was excused to go home early.

𐙚 when she got back, she was absolutely distraught.

𐙚 you had just made a new recipe and were waiting in the kitchen for ellie to return with a bright grin on your face. but the moment she walked through the door, your smile shattered.

𐙚 her uniform was scorched and torn, her face lined with filth. and, oh, her expression was heart wrenching. her lips were parted, eyes blank as they stared at the floor. she trudged into the living space, shoulders trembling ever so slightly, and flopped down onto the sofa in a manner you hadn't seen her do in quite some time.

𐙚 you were quick to rush to her side, crouching down beside her as you asked what happened. in a shaky voice, she explained that she'd gotten a baby killed. the pure regret and guilt in her tone made your heart crumble a little in your chest.

𐙚 you moved to sit on the edge of the couch, pulling ellie into your arms as you held her. the feel of your body against hers was all it took for her to break down into tears.

𐙚 she tried her hardest to remain dignified, tears falling silently. but when you began to run your hands through her hair and mutter sweet words of consolations, her cries were less orderly as she clung to you and repeated over & over how it was all her fault.

𐙚 for the rest of that night, she was unable to leave your side. she made you sit on the toilet while she showered. then she made you stay in the bathroom while she changed (you turned around). then you two ate dinner together on the couch while watching a funny adult cartoon to cheer her up, your legs touching at all times.

𐙚 so, when it came time for bed, you'd have been cruel not to offer her the empty space beside you.

𐙚 to say she was excited would be an understatement.

𐙚 you guys laid in silence for a bit, comfortable in the company of the other. but then she spoke into the darkness, her tone thick with the weight of all she'd bore that day. she explained everything in more detail, telling you the story without the bias of her guilt.

𐙚 her voice cracked when she got to the boy's death, her voice pitching higher as she fought a second wave of tears.

𐙚 you shifted toward her, sheets rustling in the darkness. you felt around for her, hand eventually finding her body. you pulled her into a warm embrace, holding all of her vulnerability and grief in your two arms as she relaxed into you, melting against the foreign gentility.

𐙚 after that night, you guys started sharing the bed.

𐙚 amber loved it, of course. both her people in one space? absolute heaven for the elderly cat. some nights, she would curl up in the crook behind your knees & other times she'd find comfort atop ellie's face, causing her to wake coughing and hacking up balls of fur.

𐙚 your guys life was one of (much deserved) bliss and domestic comfort after a long period of difficulty.

𐙚 you had yet to do anything actually romantic. but sharing the home felt just as intimate as kissing would have been. though, you ought to admit, you definitely had your fair share of fantasies when it came to that.

𐙚 anyway!

𐙚 and all the while, you sought out a new place to stay

𐙚 you didn't want to move out of ellie's tiny cottage of a home, but you'd have felt horrible asking her to stay permanently when your relationship wasn't even a solidified thing just yet. and so, you searched the internet for worthy places to house you.

𐙚 ellie avoided the topic of you finding a new home, changing the subject whenever it came up & trying to distract you with something else whenever she saw you were looking at houses. you caught on to this, of course. but frankly, you found it endearing and just let it be. you didn't want to draw attention to her blatant distaste for you leaving, for fear that it'd embarrass her. so you feigned oblivion.

𐙚 ellie went with you to every open-house, claiming she just wanted to watch out for creepy realtors. however, whenever you seemed to genuinely like a house, ellie would find something to complain about to make you no longer want to buy it

𐙚 at first, you let it slide because you knew the two of you were beginning to form some kind of bond.

𐙚 but you eventually had to butt in when you spotted her paying off a realtor when they'd both thought you were checking out a different room. she apologized endlessly for it, but never gave an explanation until you practically forced it out of her, asking what the hell she thought she was doing.

𐙚 that's when it all unraveled.

𐙚 on the property of some random shabby house in an impoverished neighborhood, in a kitchen composed of rotted wood cabinets and peeling wallpaper and chipped floor tiles, ellie confessed her feelings for you. and it couldn't have been more perfect.

𐙚 the realtor had obviously left the scene beforehand, fleeing from shock when you'd walked in on him accepting a wad of cash from ellie.

𐙚 and there you stood, in the hollow house, her words of adorations echoing off the walls. her eyes were everywhere but your face, avoiding making eye contact with you. eventually, you'd grown sick of her rambling and just grabbed her by the cheeks and kissed her.

𐙚 it was a quick peck. a small pressing of lips, just to test the waters and silence her uncertainty. when you pulled back, her face still between your hands, her pupils were blown and her jaw was slackened. you laughed at her, a chuckle rumbling your chest.

𐙚 she gasps, offended by your judgement. but you couldn't stop laughing. she eventually reconnected your mouths, her turn to silence you.

𐙚 this kiss was far more passionate, her hands coming to rest on your hips as her tongue slid across your lower lip. you opened your mouth to allow her entry & she took it vehemently, tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth.

𐙚 from then on, you guys were inseparable in a whole new fashion. the moment you'd gotten home that day, she dragged your straight to the bedroom and memorized the curves and dips of your body with her tongue, giving so much care to your being that you were sure she'd eventually run out of love to give.

𐙚 your hands gripped the tufts of her hair as she buried her face between your legs and continued her memorization down there, your head thrown back in pleasure.

𐙚 you'd eventually lost count of how many rounds the two of you went, a thick layer of sweat clinging to your skin as she shyly asked if you had anything left in you. and of course, you could never deny her anything. you giggled before rolling over to tackle her to the bed, eyes full of nothing short of love.

𐙚 you two only stopped when pounding could be heard on the door.

𐙚 ellie rushed to pull her clothes back on as you did the same, her voice shouting at the visitor to just wait a damn second. though, when she opened the door, it was agnes.

𐙚 she pushed past ellie and went straight to you, though you were still pulling a shirt over your head.

𐙚 she beckoned the two of you to the living room, you and ellie both flushed and out of breath as you sat down across from her. every time you two made eye contact, you had to look away before you hopped right across that table and fucked her again.

𐙚 agnes made small talk for a little bit, asking you about work & whether you'd found another place to stay. though, when you shyly explained that you were planning to live with ellie, she scoffed loudly and said,

𐙚 "oh, finally! i was waiting for one of you to tell me. i'm not a fool, dear, i can tell you've been fucking like rabbits. just didn't know i'd have to force it outta you."

𐙚 from there on out, it was no longer awkward. she was herself again, making suggestive comments to you and passive aggressive ones to ellie. and when amber came up to her for cuddles, she stayed for another two hours just holding the cat.

𐙚 needless to say, you and ellie managed quite well. you have yourself the most perfect life you could ask for and all the family you could need (even if it's just agnes barging in on you guys whenever she pleases). honestly, you couldn't ask for anything else.

[dolicekiss]

Hiiiii I love ur writing!!! If it's too much of a bother, I totally wouldn't mind if you don't write this😭😭 I understand that you might be busy with other things, butttt could you write about Martin from Another Round?? Him as reader's teacher (in like uni or something one where reader is legal) and like a punishment sort of thing that's happens to the reader while he's trying to teach them something after school bc they've been falling behind in their grades, and he eventually makes a deal that if they were to do a little "favor" they'd get an A?? Idk I just really like Martin😭😭 If possible, could you make the reader fem?? If not, gender neutral would be greatly appreciated, thank you!!!

- 🫧anon

♡: sorry this was so late, i just finished it and requests r piling up :[ hope u like it anon!

Good Grades

PAIRING: Martin X fem!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni), age gap (obviously), unprotected sex, perverted martin, oral (male receiving), degrading, humiliation, hair pulling, biting, filthy martin, power play.

SYNOPSIS: You've always struggled with your history subject, more so when it came down to remembering which historic event took in what year — the numbers screwing you up. It wasn't a surprise when you were called in by your teacher to scold you about your downgrading grades but you didn't know there was a much easier to fix them right up.

You were in a state of panic.

When your teacher had asked you to stay behind, you knew damn well what it was for.

History wasn't one of your strongest suits, especially remembering the numbers. You tried your best to embed your mind with it but you failed at the end.

Your nails scratched the skin around them in anticipation, stomach twisting in nervousness and anxiety knocking at the doors of your brain to allow it in.

You only had to wait for the bell to ring and once it rang, all the students left. Rushing to catch their breaks and some letting out sighs of relief to finally be freed of this soul sucking boring subject.

You were alone with him.

Martin’s gaze captured you as he picked up the papers he'd graded, setting them aside after picking out one.

It had to be yours.

He walked over to you, dragging a chair and sitting down on it in front of you. You could feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, heart hammering rapidly in your ribcage. Your forehead had perspired and you let out a breath.

“What is this, miss?” He asked, holding your paper out for you.

Immediately when you saw the grade of it, you felt like passing out. Martin eyed you as you averted your gaze from him and the piece of paper, looking around.

You had no courage to face your failure.

“I'm asking you something.”

You licked your lips. “A paper.”

Martin leaned back into the chair, thighs spreading open. He sighed. “I know it's a paper and it is your paper, which you almost failed.”

You flinched at his tedious tone, not enjoying how he spoke to you. Truth was, Martin had kept an eye on you for so long. Unbeknownst to you, he always tried to focus more on you and make you learn.

But you didn't want to.

Head anywhere but here, in his class.

“This isn't the first time. If you keep falling, I'll have to kick you out of the class.” It was a threat and your eyes widened immediately, shaking your head.

You leaned forward, the unbuttoned shirt revealing your chest which Martin captured a glance of. His cock stirring in his pants at how your tits pressed together — forming the perfect view for him. “Please, no. You can't do that. Just give me a chance, I'll do anything to fix my grades.”

Martin raised a brow.

Anything you said.

“I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do. I've had enough of this. You never pay attention and you're always chatting with other students.”

You shook your head. “Sir please, I will focus more. I will pay attention.”

Martin eyed you.

You seemed so desperate. He could see the raw desperation in your gaze and something inside him snapped, seeing how your pupils had blown out. He swallowed tightly and after debating with his own mind, he finally came to a conclusion.

He had power over you.

Why not abuse it?

“Get up and lock the door.”

You blinked at his abrupt command but nodded nonetheless, rising up from your seat to lock the door. Once you had snapped the little lock in place, you turned around to look at your teacher.

“Come here." And you obliged again.

Sauntering towards him, your pale skirt flowing by your side when you moved towards him. Nervousness had crawled all the way up to your throat and you licked your lips, in an attempt to wet the chapped skin.

You stood in front of him.

“There's something we can do to fix your grades.” He spoke, voice now a few octaves lower. Your fingers engulfed the material of your skirt as you raised a brow.

Martin reached for your hand, taking it into his. His brown eyes drowning in yours and his lips holding a sweet smile as if he wasn't about to make an immoral offer. “How about you be a good girl for your teacher and suck his cock?”

Your eyes widened in horror.

Pulling your hand out of his grasp, you retreated and stared at him. You'd never thought about your teacher in that sense. Yes, he was very attractive and you had a thing for older men but this was completely unethical and unprofessional.

You inhaled sharply.

Confusion clouded your judgment. You didn't know what to do. The proposal wasn't as bad as your mind was making it appear. Just give him head, get your grades up and work harder next time.

That easy, yeah?

Your knees dipped in front of Martin’s spread thighs and his smile widened. A tent already visible in his crotch. He was so excited, as he would always wonder how your glossy pink lips would feel wrapped around his cock — your tight little throat fighting to make space for his length.

You blinked, profusely as you reached for the zipper of his pants. He noticed the tremor in your hands and smiled softly, loving how innocent you appeared. Your hand managed to unzip his pants and pull out his cock but the moment your fingers caressed his hardened length, Martin hissed.

Your mere touch felt like embers on his skin.

Your eyes widened upon witnessing his gaze, the sheer length and girth of it leaving you completely bemused. How was that even supposed to fit in your mouth? You wondered if you could grow used to his size.

“What you waiting for, pretty girl?”

You looked at him with your pretty eyes as you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his tip. It leaked with precum and the salty taste glossed your lips. You ran your tongue over his pink cockhead and then wrapped your lips around him while your hand began to stroke him from his base — upto his length.

Martin slumped into his chair leisurely as his palm opened and rested over your head, forcing you to take him further. His lips fell open as he shuddered, enjoying the warmth your mouth produced around him.

The more you took him into your mouth, the harder it became for you to breathe properly.

You tried to inhale oxygen through your nose, your hands both resting on his parted knees. Martin’s hand pushed you further down on his cock and you fluttered your eyes shut, feeling his cock glide over your tongue and make way into your throat.

“Fuck, such a tight little mouth you've got, baby.” Martin groaned and as you peeled open your lids, you saw a sight before you which made your cunt throb.

A few straight strands had fallen over Martin’s forehead, his lips parted as his chest heaved up and down. Chiseled cheek bones reflexing everytime he let a gasp slip.

You took him deeper, feeling his cock head slip into your throat and you whined, sending vibrations and tremors down his cock into his groin. His cock throbbed and twitched like crazy and you could feel every little movement inside your tight cavern.

Your windpipe felt like it was being crushed and you pulled back from his cock, to take him deeper again.

“You're pretty good at this.” Martin groaned, staring down at you with hazy eyes. “How many cocks have you sucked, hm?”

You shook your head, telling him that this was your first time. Martin thrusted his hips upwards, driving his cock deeper into your throat. He managed to catch a glimpse of his dick print in your throat and lost his restraint.

Callous hands grabbing your head, holding it in place as he began to fuck his cock into your throat. Thrusts harsh and vigorous, your heart galloped in your ribcage. Your eyes fell shut and Martin’s fingers engulfed your hair.

“Look at me. Show me those pretty eyes, baby.” You obliged, fluttering them open. Your lashes coated the apple of your cheeks and tears emerged from your tear glands — droplets sliding down. Martin discarded the chair as he stood up, using his full strength to chase his orgasm.

You sniffled, gagging over his cock. A white ring of spit accumulating around his length from all the choking. Your mouth was covered in drool as well as chin, streams of precum mixed with saliva going down.

Martin’s balls throbbed and his pace fastened, fucking your throat like it was a cunt. You felt a stinging sensation spread in your knees from how long you'd been kneeling on the floor. His stomach was taut and his thrusts grew slightly slow — hinting at his upcoming arousal.

Loud groans and gagging sounds filled the whole of classroom. “Fucking whore. On her knees just to g-get good grades. How desperate can you be.”

Martin was a mess. His forehead was sweaty and then after a harsh thrust in your tight throat, he finally released inside your cum. Though that didn't last long as he pulled out halfway, shooting ropes of cum all over your face. You closed your eyes as the warm liquid stained your face wet.

You breathed like you'd ran a fucking marathon. Shallow breaths being inhaled while Martin stared at you, admiring how his climax covered your cheek. You reached to swipe it off your face, sticking your fingers into your mouth to suck them clean.

“You look fucking pretty like this.” He praised, running his hand over your messy hair.

Your cheeks warmed up. “I-Is that enough? Will you fix my grades now, sir?”

He tilted his head, contemplating you. Lost in complete dilemma before he came to a conclusion. Martin didn't waste time lifting you up from the floor and you yelped — bemused by this abrupt action. He set you over the desk and smiled, causing his smile lines to appear.

“I can't let you go this easily, pretty girl. I need more now.” You blinked and stared at him, knowing what he was hinting at. You'd sucked him dry, there was no way he could regain his strength this quickly but when your gaze lowered and you caught onto his cock hardening, you realised his age did not work as restraints to his desires.

Martin took a step back. “Open your legs, show me that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Sir but you—”

“You want to fail?” He asked, brow raised. Deep voice hiding a threat underneath and you shuddered at the unexpected change of tone.

You nodded your head, face flushed and hair sticking to your skin. Parting open your thighs, you revealed your sticky panties and Martin’s chest rumbled with a primal growl at the sight. Your panties had a wet spot and that only worked to heighten his arousal for you.

His large hands held you open, staring at how your cunt produced more and more essence of desire. Your thighs shuddered when his knuckles caressed them, his hands tugging off your panties and slipping them inside his pocket.

“But..” You complained at the perverted action of your teacher.

Martin grinned at you. “Sh, I might need them for later when my cock becomes hard at the memory of being inside your little pussy.”

Martin didn't even care to prep you. He only held his cock in his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your moist puffy cunt. Then he entered you and the stretch of your pussy made you arch your back. Your palms gripped on the edge of the table as you whimpered.

You were all over the place.

Embarrassment crept up your body like vines when you registered the situation you were in.

Willing to sleep with your older teacher only to achieve good grades. If your parents were to find out, they would look down upon you and you'd probably be expelled from your university but none of that mattered.

You needed good grades and this was the only way.

“Fuck— you've got such a tight little cunt, baby.” Martin moaned, entering you till he's pelvis had pressed up yours. Soft little whimpers escaped you when you were filled to the brim. “I'm gonna fuck you, gonna dumb you down on my cock.”

You sniffled, a lone tear sliding down.

Martin leaned in and captured your lips in a kissing, licking and sucking at yours. A hungry kiss it was but it made your cunt throb around his hard cock.

He started to pull out, only to thrust back inside you with vigor. His hips snapped repeatedly, finally losing all sense of control.

Martin’s hands held your hips, digging into them as he drove himself into the warmth of your sweet cunt. He was fucking hysterical, each thrust delivered with passion and driven by need.

Crying out from pleasure and ecstasy, your body jerked upon feeling his cock nestle into your sweet spot. You reached for his sweaty nape, wrapping both arms around it for support. The desk underneath you quaked whenever Martin would snap his cock into you.

“S-Sir, oh my god. Sir please, someone might h-hear.” You sobbed uncontrollably from the unbridled lust.

Martin brought his hand upto your face and shoved his fingers into your mouth, pressing along your wet tongue. You choked a little but allowed him to shove his fingers down your throat, tips brushing against the palate of your mouth.

“Keep quiet, yeah? Don't want anyone to know you're getting fucked by your teacher for some high grades.” Martin shushed you, staring at you with pure lust swimming in his gaze.

You kept your thighs apart, abdomen shivering from your upcoming climax and your fingernails dug into Martin’s nape, scratching at the skin. He hissed and the pain only increased his strength, thrusting harshly inside you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your release pounding at your taut stomach and with a loud cry you came all over Martin’s cock. He didn't give you any time to calm down, instead seeing how beautiful you looked when you made a mess on his cock only made him fuck you harder.

He grabbed your leg and pulled it up to his shoulder, leaning down and pressing his body firmly against yours. Martin dug himself deeper inside your tight cunt, as it clamped down on him and the man felt like you would snap him in half.

“You'll fucking cut my dick in half, baby. Relax a little, yeah? I'm close, so fucking close.” He reassured you, pressing onto your stomach to feel his cock push up against your cervix. His length grazing your walls.

He buried his face in your neck, digging his teeth into your skin. Tainting the unmarked canvas of a skin with red and blue.

Martin’s hips stuttered as he felt himself near, soon spilling inside you. His load heavy and filling you up to the brim. Thankfully you were on birth control so it didn't really matter but the feeling of his cum inside you made you twitch.

He pumped into you, emptying himself inside you for the second time but in your puffy cunt. You'd buried your head in his chest and Martin let you, finally getting what he needed from you.

He pulled out from you after you both had calmed down and caught a breath and you whimpered at the loss of contact. The blonde watched your gaping hole release his seed in drops, trailing down and making a mess on his wooden desk.

“Such a pretty, swollen cunt.” He whispered, shoving his cum back inside with his long fingers.

Your walls had grown extremely sensitive and you let out a whine when he did that. His tan skin glistened with sweat, making it appear gold like to the gaze. Hair a mess, similar to yours and his flannel shirt crinkled up. Martin fixed your skirt, pulling it down over your thighs and you realized he had fucked you in your skirt, which made this rendezvous even more hotter.

Your face flushed and sweaty, lips swollen and eyes watery.

Martin wanted to take a picture of how fucked out you looked. But he didn't — it would only cause problems if he was ever caught. Especially by his wife.

“W-Will you fix my grades now?” You asked, once you'd ran a hand through your hair and slid off the table. Lower body barely having any strength to support the upper one.

When you looked up at Martin, your eyes still held remnants of your innocence and he nearly swooned.

He nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “With how well you took my cock, I'll fucking give you the highest grade.”

You smiled, pleased with the result. This was all you ever wanted. To pass and not be a failure and knowing your teacher’s weakness made it a whole lot easier for you.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)

Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟

Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉

Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor

Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤

You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.

It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.

It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.

Lucifer 🍎

“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”

Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb

Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.

It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all

His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip

Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.

He’s an emotional man, okay?

He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.

Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol

“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”

He’ll really really baby you tho.

Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.

“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”

And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you

For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed

And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse

Probably even panics a bit like-

“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”

“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”

Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love

Angel Dust 🕸️

“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”

Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds

But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations

He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~

Tries to lighten the mood a bit

“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*

Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.

He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part

Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.

Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.

Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.

He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.

Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.

Reminds me of a song…

“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita

Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances

Husk 🃏

“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”

Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.

Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.

Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit

But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.

Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.

In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.

He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin

Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.

“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”

Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe

The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue

Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention

Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~

Sir Pentious 🐍

Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.

“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”

Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.

Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.

“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.

And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.

Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.

It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes

Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.

At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚

“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”

And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you

Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.

You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.

Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!

Vox 🖥️

(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)

REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“

You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol

“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”

He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.

He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy

Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe

Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.

Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses

Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception

Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.

And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.

Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.

You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘

Alastor 🩸

Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.

He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.

He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you

Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved

Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.

Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.

“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”

Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you

Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets

“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”

Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.

He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹

[almond-tofuuu]

Hi I see you're opening request, so I'm here to ask for one. Thank you so much!

Plot: Zayne anger and his punishment when he find out you lied to him and get yourself in dangerous.

anon are you a mind reader?! 👀 bc I've had a draft of this sat in my wip folder for ages!!!

Hope you enjoy!! 💕

Sorry isn't enough...

Zayne x reader

Warnings: angst, lots of angst, no comfort, Zayne is mad (and possibly ooc)

Might do a part 2 (with a happy ending as an apology for this)

Zayne doesn't yell. In fact, in all the time you'd known him you couldn't remember ever seeing him lose his temper. Sure he got annoyed with you sometimes, mainly when you ignored his advice or turned up at the hospital with yet another injury, but it never boiled over into anger. He'd scold you like a child, giving the occasional icy glare, but nothing more. So when you limped into his office today, an hour late for your appointment and caked in dirt and dried blood, you were prepared to receive another lecture about safety from your primary care physician.

The minute you opened the door and took the first unsteady step into his office, you knew something was off. The air held an icy chill, causing a shiver to run down your spine, the tension increasing with every step. You could feel the pressure of Zayne's eyes on you as you approached his desk, piercing green gaze scrutinising every aspect of your appearance, taking note of every scrape and bruise, every smudge of blood that stained your skin and clothes.

"You're late." Emotionless and cold, his voice shattered the uncomfortable silence that had been present since you entered his office. Swallowing thickly, you finally meet his eyes, and immediately regret it. His expression is hard, brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes which usually hold a tenderness whenever he looks at you are dark, and swirling with a storm of fury. Zayne is pissed.

Opening your mouth, the apology on the tip of your tongue quickly dies at the sound of Zayne's exasperated sigh. "If you're planning on apologising I'd suggest you save your breath. I have neither the time nor the patience to listen to whatever feeble excuses you plan on giving." His harsh tone hits you like an avalanche, burying you in the disappointment that is practically radiating from him. "I've warned you time and time again to be careful, to prioritise your safety and yet you seem determined not to listen. I've lost count of how many times you've limped into my office. You refuse to listen to my advice yet you come to me whenever your recklessness results in another injury. Tell me, do you insist on continuing this foolish behaviour until it undoubtedly causes your death?!"

A lump forms in your throat, eyes fixed on the floor as you desperately try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. Every cruel word Zayne seethes is another knife to your heart, cutting deep and carving themselves into your flesh. And despite your best efforts, you can't stop the choked sob that escapes your lips. Because it hurts. Seeing the man who has always treated you so gently fuming with rage, steely glare freezing you where you stand, forcing you to endure the brunt of his anger. His words melt together, flooding your mind and making your ears ring as they echo on repeat inside your head. You're so overwhelmed by the crushing weight of his disappointment that you don't even realise you're crying until a cold hand touches your cheek, thumb wiping away a single tear. His breath fans your face as he exhales a tired sigh, "come here, let me see your wounds" his voice is softer now, having lost its previous venom but his outburst has left a sour taste in your mouth. You pull away from his touch, shaking your head slightly as you wipe away the tears that stain your cheeks.

"I can take care of it myself...I wouldn't want to inconvenience you any further." You utter, keeping your voice steady and void of emotion. "Don't worry, you won't have to deal with my reckless behaviour anymore. Goodbye, Dr Zayne." Turning away from him you quickly make your way out of his office, ignoring the calls of your name, determined not to let him see you fall apart completely. With each step you can feel your heart breaking more, bleeding out and flooding your chest with every crushing word Zayne spat at you. You're not sure where you're heading, vision blurring with tears, you just know that the last place you want to be is with Zayne.

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[7ndipity]

How They Would Confess To Their Crush

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would confess to their crush. In connection to the Secret Crush HCs series.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly suggestive moments, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anons who requested this! This kinda feels like a conclusion to the secret crush HCs we’ve been working on for a while(tho I’m sure we’ll come up with some more ideas like first dates or smth, lol) Hope y’all like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

I think he would want to plan out some elaborate scene and make it romantic with flowers and music or smth, but in actuality he just ends up blurting it out as you’re hanging out one day.

He’s almost done it so many times, the words literally always on the tip of his tongue, so when they finally do come out, he’s almost as surprised as you are.

He immediately turns anxious bc “Oh shit, that was out loud, what do I do now?!”, but when you say you love him too and kiss him, his mind just goes completely blank and he leans in more, following your lead.

It might not have been how he imagined confessing, but the outcome is better than anything he could’ve dreamed up.

Yoongi:

He would probably end up quietly confessing during one of your late night hangouts where you’re both so tired but not willing to say goodnight, the conversations getting deeper the later it gets.

He thought it would take a lot more to make him finally confess, but something about the way you sleepily smile at him made it so easy, the words rolling off his tongue with almost no effort.

Even though you may have already had your suspicions that you were into each other, it still comes as a slight shock to hear him say it, your startled expression making him fear for a second that you’ll reject him, but then you say you feel the same way and it’s like he can breathe properly for the first time in forever.

You end up talking till you fall asleep tangled together, happier and more content than you’ve both felt in a long time.

Hobi:

He would go all out, surprising you when you come over to hang out with flowers, candles/fairy lights, music, the works.(It almost looks more like a proposal than a confession, but he really wants to impress you and show how much you mean to him)

He would be so nervous, even if you both kinda already knew how the other felt, he can’t help worrying about what if he’d misread things or if you said no.

Luckily, his fears are completely unfounded, bc as soon as you walk in and he starts the speech he’s prepared, you nearly burst into tears before tackling him in a tight hug, saying you love him too.

Most of the evening is spent curled up together on the couch, fessing up to all the times where you fell for each other.

Namjoon:

It would probably happen after a fight or smth when you’re not talking to each other, forcing him to realize that he can’t keep lying to you about his feelings or pretending that nothing else is going on and still expect things to work out between you in any form.

He would probably either ask to meet up for coffee so you can talk things out or just show up at your house, depending on how brave he was feeling in the moment.

Has this whole ass speech prepared, but he doesn’t manage to get through even half of it before you’re pulling him into a kiss, effectively shutting him up for the next few minutes.

When you separate to breathe and his brain starts working again, you talk things out and admit how you both felt the whole time. It’s kinda messy and chaotic, but that’s how things have always been between you, why should this be any different?

Jimin:

I think he would take a semi-serious approach to confessing, almost in an attempt to counteract his normally aloof, flirty energy with you, sitting you down to talk about everything. His sudden shift in behavior would honestly make you kinda nervous, worried that something’s wrong.

He would definitely be slightly nervous too, even if he knew that you liked him too, since liking each other doesn’t necessarily mean that you want to be together.

Once he starts to tell you how he feels tho, it’s like he can’t stop, everything he’s been feeling pouring out until he catches sight of your teary expression. Before he can ask if you’re okay though, you tackle him, saying that you feel the same way about him before connecting your lips with his.

Not much else is said for the next little bit, finding much more, *ahem, inventive ways to express your feelings to each other.

Taehyung:

Similar to Jin, I think he would want to make some sort of elaborate romantic gesture, but it would end up just slipping out one night during a quiet moment together when he just can’t stand not being able to be close to you in the way he wants.

He would state it so simply, as if it was already obvious, trying to keep his voice calm despite the faint anxiety that began to creep through him the longer the pause between his words and your response stretches on.

When you smile and say you feel the same though, he could’ve sworn he was floating, quickly pulling you onto his lap and claiming your lips just like he’s always dreamed of.

You spend the rest of the evening tangled together, sharing kisses and talking until you drift off, at peace in your newfound home in each other's arms.

Jungkook:

Similar to Joon, I think it would happen after a fight or one of his moments of jealous possessiveness, when he realizes that no type of relationship between you, romantic or otherwise, will ever work unless he’s honest with you.

And even if he fears you might reject him(tho, he tries not to think about that), he has to get this off his chest, for both of your sakes.

Would probably just show up at your door and blurt everything out in an only partially thought-out speech that he came up with on the way over, barely giving you a chance to say anything until he runs out of breath, still talking even after you try shutting him up with a kiss.

Once he finally calms down, you’re able to talk things through more coherently, somehow still managing to surprise him when you say you want to be with him too.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[yesimwriting]

I keep thinking about your style of writing the reader in the movie challengers and my girl would NOT have a good time 💀

She would see this trio being lovey dovey with her and she would be so shy she would have a heart attack... She just wants to organize her sticky notes in alphabetic order leave her be.

Now if she was already in the friend group, she would totaly just get up and go to bed:

Trio: *on the verge of hooking up*

Reader: *yawns* would you look at that, well bye!

Trio: its not even midnight.

Reader: well, beauty sleep yk?

Trio:😔

ART:🥺

But also:

Art: we will be in eachothers life forever right?

Reader:duh! Your my friend 😀

Art: 🥺🥺

anon i can literally feel you understanding my writing, omg, we are so connected

however the trio is so hot and charming and good at flirting i fear it'd take an unnatural level of self control to not accidentally hook up with them

i agree that this scenario is definitely influenced by wether or not reader is already friends with them, so let's take a second to talk about both:

if reader wasn't really friends with them first, i can see her going to tashi's party. she starts talking to tashi to congratulate her, and then patrick and art invite both of them over.

tashi and her joke about it, but when tashi says she wants to go, reader's already regretting her life choices. she's finally making a (very pretty, very intimidating) tennis friend, she can't back out.

it'd start off so calm, everyone passing around a beer, and reader feeling like drinking during a tournament is already rebellious of her. maybe patrick hands her his cigarette and she takes a drag bc she's convinced she can pass off being this chill person.

she's even fine when art rests his hand on her knee for a little. everything feels light, friendly. and then patrick tells that story about teaching art how to jerk off, and reader's still not overly affected bc she's not directly involved. for a beat, she even thinks it's kind of cute that art's flustered.

and then tashi gets on the bed and there's an immediate switch in energy. reader immediately knows the window to leave without being labeled 'weird' or a 'mood killer' is slowly closing. so she mentions the time, and when anyone tries to get her to stay, art is for sure the one that helps her out. he's a sweetheart like that <3

art agrees that it's late, and would probably even offer to walk her back to her room. or, if things didn't feel too tense, he might ask her if she wants to go with him to get some ice and stay for one more beer. a subtle reset to help protect reader's boundaries. he's so bf material, i'm sorry.

----

now, if reader was already friends with them:

i feel like if patrick and art had a close girl friend, hotel room would not be the first time they came close to hooking up 😭. even though reader is still shy, there's a familiarity between them that has her feeling secure.

bc she knows them, she can tell when they're in a bit of a flirtier mood. patrick's hand is on her knee and art rests his chin on her shoulder, all while they're giggling and kicking their feet at everything tashi says. reader's spider senses start tingling. thirsty bitches.

her first thought is: 'i didn't hook up with you guys at my high school graduation, and i'm not hooking up with you guys now.'

i think the main difference if she's already friends with them is that reader feels a little more comfortable slipping out. there's a bit less social pressure bc they're already friends, so there's less pretending.

patrick would probably be more comfortable teasing her if they were already friends. he'd be touchier, asking reader if she'd sit with him for a few more minutes, and then he'd walk her back to her room. scout's honor.

art's quicker to pick up on reader being uncomfortable if they're already friends. he's going out with her to get ice and asking her if she's feeling okay. if she seems extra shy or like she feels bad for not being super okay with everything, art will probably stay out with her a bit. he'll talk to her about stuff she likes and then walk back to her room.

i love your side note about art and reader's dynamic, he'd find everything so endearing. like, yes, reader is the one making promises to be in art's life forever without a second thought. that is his very necessary second emotional support best friend that he pines after.

he's making sure everyone leaves her to her color coded sticky notes and tennis practice if that's what she wants!

[luvfy0dor]

"How Gorgeous !!" BSD x GN!Reader

╰┈➤ Fyodor, Nikolai, Chuuya♡

Warnings; yk the drill; probably a little ooc, other than that pure fluff, dyed hair Nikolai bc I saw some people who REALLY dislike blonde Nikolai so I'm just gonna put that as a warning

Description; Select bsd boys letting you do stuff with their hair

A/N; I'm so sorry to the two people in my requests I know dad Fyodor anon is there and so is another rlly cute request, Im thinking stuff up I pinky promise :(( im not ignoring anyone istg I'm just having severe writers block so when i got this idea i wrote it out as fast as possible just to have something out for yall, i hate posting only twice a week.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ༉‧₊˚.

Fyodor enjoyed having his hair washed, he liked the feeling of your soft fingers massaging his scalp while he hummed, very pleased with the favor you had stepped up to do for him.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The sound of water splashing against the porcelain of the tub filled the bathroom as you drew a bath for Fyodor and yourself. His plans were all over the place as of late, and you felt maybe a nice bath and head massage might soothe him a bit. His hair was getting a bit greasy under that ushanka, and you weren't gonna just let him go about his day overworked and musty.

You could hear the door unlock, along with the soft tapping of Fyodors boots, coming to a pause and being momentarily substituted by the clicking of the lock. You stood up, shaking the water off of your hand from checking the temperature and turning to him.

"Hi Fedya, how's your work coming along?" You ask, removing the ushanka from his head and brushing his bangs away from his face. He hums and rests his head on yours, his hands gently stroking your back. "It's not coming along very well, if I'm honest, dear." He sighs retracting from the hug and starting to remove his shoes and unbutton his shirt. "Very stressful."

You nod in understanding, sliding his shirt off his shoulders while he undoes the final buttons. "Things will work out for you, they always do." You say. You both finish undressing and get into the tub, Fyodor sitting between your legs and kinda leaning back against you, his eyes closed as he sighs, clearly relaxed. You fill your cupped hand with water and spill onto his head, the droplets trickling down the thin strands of his midnight colored hair.

His steady breathing was your indicator that he was feeling at the very least a little better. You pumped some shampoo into your hand and ran it through his hair, your fingertips rubbing against his scalp, drawing soft sounds of contentment from his lips. Filling a small, nearby cup with water, you gently poured it over his head and rinsed out the suds. Some of the water drips down his face, small drops catching in his eyelids as his head leans back. You smile at his small reactions.

"Mmn, that feels very nice, my dear." He murmurs, the corners of his lips being tugged into a small smile, a smile of leisurly pleasure. "Good." You reply while you begin lathering conditioner in the ends of his relatively long hair. The scent of the tea tree conditioner only added to the lingering fragrance of the matching shampoo. Fyodor liked the smell of tea tree, and if he didnt use that, he used faint floral scents. You run your fingers through his straight hair, parting a couple of pieces and starting to absent-mindedly braid them together, weaving the strands over and under each other.

Fyodor tilts his head back a bit more, rotating it to look at you. "Are you thinking about anything in particular?" He questions, his gaze soft. You shake your head, running your fingers through the braided hair pieces, ultimately undoing it. "No, not really." And it was the truth. The two of you were basking in the moment the way a lizard does in the sun. Your hand snakes down to grab onto his, giving it a soft squeeze which he returns. After washing yourselves off, you stand up and wrap towels around yourselves once you've initially rid most of the drops of water from your skin. You both get dressed in pajama pants, a tee shirt for you and a sweater for Fyodor, a smaller towel around his neck.

The towel is visibly wet as Fyodor leans against the sink, watching you ruffle your hair to dry it. "Fedya, your towel is soaked. Here, let's blow dry your hair." You say, reaching into one of the drawers of the sink, pulling out the blow-dryer and plugging it into the wall. "We could always towel dry it and save money on the electricity bill." He says, starting to squeeze any remaining water out of his hair with the towel.

"It's fine, trust me, it's not like it's upping the bill a trillion dollars." You say, the nozzle of the blow-dryer pointed just downwards of Fyodors chin, aimed towards the (a little more than) damp ends of his hair. "Alright, alright." He nods at your response. "Okay, ready?" You ask, your finger hovering over the 'on' switch. "Mhm." He nods with a soft smile, and with that you flick on the blow-dryer to the lowest setting. The air is hot as you move the dryer from side to side, not allowing the heat to be directed to one spot and burning Fyodors skin.

Fyodor listens to the whir of the blow dryer with his eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowing when the warm air hits his forehead as you get his bangs. You laugh at his expression under your breath and ruffle his hair a bit to dry the roots better. Once his hair was...well, dry enough, the sound of the hair dryer came to a halt. His eyes opened again, their purple color as beautiful as ever under the dim bathroom light. His hand goes to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin, as he places a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. When he pulls away, he's giving you a small, faint smile.

"Thank you for pampering me, it is a wonderful feeling." He quietly says, one of his hands on the bottom of your neck. You nod and give him a full kiss on the lips in response. "You're welcome, I love doing that type of stuff for you. I like playing around with your hair." You state, pushing a strand behind his ear. You stare into each other's eyes for another couple of seconds before he leans backwards, unlocking and opening the door. The cold air from the rest of the house causes you to shiver a little.

"Would you like to join me for some tea before bed?" He asks, standing in the doorway. You nod and follow him, flicking the light off behind you as you both make your way to the kitchen. He starts to boil the water in a kettle, grabbing a tea bag from the cabinet for each of you. He waits for the water to reach it's boiling point and leans against the counter, gently pulling you into his chest. You smile and wrap your arms around his torso, one hand reaching up to twirl some of his hair around your finger. He sighs softly, leaning his head backwards and into your touch. When the water is finally ready, he softly guides your body to the side, walking past you to fill the mugs with water and dip the tea bags in. After a couple moments, he hands you your cup, sipping from his.

"Thank you, my love." You murmur with a appreciative smile while taking a sip yourself. He nods. "Ofcourse, dear."‧₊˚.

Nikolai Gogol ༉‧₊˚.

Nikolais hair isn't just white naturally, obviously, so whenever his hair needed to be touched up, he turns right to his lover to help him out. He tried doing it himself and nearly ended up with bald spots from forgetting about the bleach and leaving it on for WAY too long.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Although they weren't those most noticable thing in the entire world, Nikolais roots were starting to show. You had noticed though, ofcourse, because you spend a lot of time around him. Every time the taller man was snoring in your arms, your eyes drifted down to the forming tufts of dark blonde hair peeking through the white, shiny strands. You made him aware of it, and he sent you off to get bleach and toner after he couldn't find any around the house. That conversation was exactly what landed you in the hair aisle of the store closest to you.

You inspected the packaging of each dye until you could deem one a good enough and trustworthy brand. You brought it up to the register and payed for it, exiting the store and driving back home. The weather was rather gloomy and rainy today, making you skitter quickly through the driveway and to the door. Pushing it open, you sigh having finally escaped the rain. Though it wasn't pouring, it was still not something you wanted to stand in for all that long. "Kolya!" You called out to your boyfriend through out the halls of your home, taking off your shoes and jacket.

Upon fully standing up, you went to walk further into the house just as you could see a yellow light starting to form behind you. You laugh a bit before turning around. "How many times do I have to tell you, you're not gonna be able to scare me by doing that." You say with a playful eyeroll. His head fully pokes through the portal. "You can tell me as many times as you want, dear, that doesn't mean I'm not gonna try it." He says with a grin, his hand popping through the portal to gently guide your face closer to his. He presses a kiss to your cheek before he fully comes through the portal.

"You got the bleach?" You nod, holding up the box. "Yeah, c'mere, we'll touch up your roots right now." He follows you into the bathroom as you pry open the box, shaking the contents onto the sink counter. You grab the gloves and slide your hands into them before turning to Nikolai. "Here, go sit on the edge of the tub so I can do this accurately." You say, pointing in the direction of the bathtub. He nods and sits down, his feet in the tub with his back facing you. You stand with your hands on your hips while reading the directions and grabbing the packet of bleach powder. Nikolai peers at you over his shoulder, grinning at your face of concentration.

You mix the bleach with the developer together in the bowl, setting it back on the counter once it's the right consistency and walking over to Nikolai. "Your hair is so long, Kolya." You say, undoing his usual braid and starting to section his hair as he smiles. "Ofcourse it is! Its been growing for a long time, my dove." He replies with a grin, feeling your hands part his hair and clip certain pieces in certain places to keep them separated. You started applying the bleach to his roots, his soft 'tee-heeing' being heard over the sound of the bleach being applied to his hair, apparently in a ticklish way.

"Does it tickle that much?" You ask, grabbing another bit of his hair. He nods. "Yes, yes it does." He beams, kicking his feet up onto the other edge of the tub.

Upon making it all the way around your boyfriends head, you proudly stood back to observe your work; the blue substance already lightening the first bits of hair you worked on. "It's already working, Kolya, your hair will be renewed in like...well, the box says twenty minutes." You say, inspecting the piece of cardboard. "Oh, I'm sure you did such a wonderful job. I'm so excited to see it." Nikolai says, standing up from his place on the side of the tub.

"Wait a minute," you say, exiting the bathroom and heading to the kitchen before returning, ripping a piece of aluminum foil from the roll you had fetched. "If we stick this on your head, it'll go quicker." He laughs and pats the foil down on his head, nodding. "And why is that?" You think for a moment. "It traps heat and stuff." You say, stepping out of the bathroom and into the hallway, Nikolai following you. "Oh wow! My dove is just so smart!" He says with his cheeky little grin. You playfully roll your eyes and toss your gloves in the garbage can.

"That's basic, I feel like everyone knows that. I think you know that too, but you just wanted to hear that from my mouth." He nods, resting his hand on your shoulder. "See? What a genius." You quietly scoff.

You wait out the twenty minutes with Nikolai, talking about whatever silly stuff comes to mind. When the timer on your phone rings, you crumple up Nikolais make shift aluminum hat and tossing it in the garbage. You examine the roots of his hair, which are a very pale yellow. You shrug it off and bring him to the bathroom, rinsing the bleach out of his hair and shampooing and conditioning it with his head under the tub faucet. You put a towel over his head and ruffle his hair, examining it once more.

"Oh, it's not that yellow." You murmur. "The toner will fix that, and then you'll be twinning with Fukuchi again." You say, your eyes scanning the bathroom counter for the box with the toner. You raise an eyebrow when you come to realize it's not there. You must have left it in your car, so that's where you head with a soft hum of confusion. Bolting out to your car, trying to avoid the rain, you're met with a toner-less sight. You sigh.

"I didn't even buy it." You say to Nikolai exasperatedly while simultaneously scanning your receipt, and unsurprisingly finding only the bleach. "Aw, don't worry! We can get it when the rain clears up, I won't make you go out again." He insists, pulling you into his chest. You just sigh and wrap your arms around him. "Yeah, you're right." You murmur, your body limply leaning against his. He pats your back.

"Come sit down with me, we should play a board game or a card game. They're perfect for rainy days, don't you agree?" He says, plopping down on the couch. "I do agree. Do you have a preference for a specific game right now?" He thinks for a moment before shaking his head. "No, not in particular." You go off to find a good game for the both of you to play, settling on Uno. "Okay Kolya, quiz time! What game do I have?" You say, imitating your boyfriend. He giggles at your impersonation of him, placing a finger on his chin while thinking. "Hmm, I'm gonna guess Uno." He says. You nod, making him grin.

"I guess we're both quite smart then, dove! Let's play, shall we?" He pats the seat on the couch next to him, making you smile as you nod and walk over to sit with him. ‧₊˚.

Chuuya Nakahara ༉‧₊˚.

Chuuya didn't really entrust many people with the task of cutting his hair and keeping it a constant length, but with one hell of a lot of convincing, he decided to let you try it.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Walking down the hallway, you had a little more pep in your step than usual. Your boyfriend finally decided he trusted you enough with his hair to let you trim it. Whether you have experience with cutting hair or not didn't matter, you were determined to make this the best haircut Chuuya would get in his entire life.

You only did minimal preparation for this, and by minimal preparing you had some kitchen scissors, a comb, and a brush. As you turned the corner into your shared bedroom, you saw your red-headed boyfriend sitting on the edge of the bed, seemingly rethinking his decision. "Alright, Chuuya! I'm gonna give you the best trim of your life, trust me." You say, waving him into the bathroom to follow you. He does with a nervous sigh, standing next to you in the mirror.

"Alrigh, Chuuya. How much do you want off?" You ask, starting to brush out his un-even hair. "No more than half an inch doll, don't get me wrong, I love and trust you and all but.." he murmurs, staring at you through the mirror.

"Oh no, I get that, I would NEVER let you do this to me." You say, combing through his hair. "What?!" He says, a shocked look on his face. You laugh a bit before grabbing the scissors. "Im joking, don't worry." You reassure him, cutting off some hair on the back of his head. He hears the scissors cut a bit off and his eye twitches.

You continue snipping away, little clusters of his hair fall onto his shoulders and onto the floor. You could see his eyes following every chunk as it dropped, hitting the floor tiles after drifting from side to side for a couple moments. "Chuuya, it looks perfectly fine so far, don't worry." You proudly state, grabbing a hold of some of the longer hair, combing it out and cutting off a half inch of it as he asked. "I'm not too sure about that, but whatever you say, darlin'." He mumbles, his intense stare aimed at you. It wasn't aggressive or mean, but a bit anxious.

You continued, pulling at pieces of Chuuyas hair, one small section at a time, really putting your heart and soul into his trim. Once you had decided you were done, you stepped back and grabbed a smaller mirror, turning Chuuya around and handing it to him. "Here, look! It turned out very well, if I do say so myself." He thoroughly assessed it before nodding.

"Alright, you're right, it doesn't look nearly as bad as I thought it would." He says, ruffling it a bit before brushing it out and putting his hat on. "Oh, did you not have any faith in me at all?" You playfully scoff, your hands on your hips. He grins and shakes his head. "Don't you worry doll, I've got plenty of faith in you. My faith doesn't lie in your barber skills, though." He says, his gloved fingers guiding your chin closer to his face, his soft lips gently colliding with yours, making you smile. His thumb gently caresses your jawline.

When he pulls away, he doesn't go far. He murmurs a couple of soft words against your lips. "You did real good though, I must admit." He says, admiring his hair in the mirror, running his fingers through it.

"Im glad you like it." You say, observing his hair, too. "Maybe I should let ya do my hair more often." He looks over at you with a small grin. You laugh a little and nod. "Yeah, maybe you should."

[satoruhour]

gggOoooOOOOD MORNING ‼️‼️ ive been eating up your masterlist esp your racer au UGHHHH that was the last thought in my head before sleep and the first when i woke racer!geto was just. so. fking. h o t. u dont understand like that has a G R I P on me rn UGHHHH I LOVE IT SM do u have any spare hc for geto in this racer!au? if u dont thats okay! just know i ate that fic up 🫶🏻🫶🏻🥺🥺

a/n: thank u anon 4 the support im glad u liked the racer!au hehe. the original au here, how did you meet and geto’s own elaboration post for context. tagging @na-t0 @crysugu @omgeto @slttygeto / 2.4k

warnings: (in second half of post) mentions + discussions of semi-public sex, filming, fingering while driving, oral (f and m receiving), protected and unprotected sex, f and m masturbation, phone / webcam sex, sharing with gojo & nanami

AAHHH i might have !!! racer!geto has a special place in my heart huhu i would love to develop more

to start off i would say that he’s just… such a good bf. like i know it’s obvious but also the next day after your late night drifting he texted you to ask if you wanted to go back to the cafe :D

he paid for everything again and he was so happy seeing u get another cinnamoroll trinket !!

so when the cafe has another sanrio event you BET hes bringing you there again. it just so happened that it was a berry and cherry event too ahhhh geto’s so cute getting all excited and stuff

he got you two matching coffees with berry and cherry foam art

that cafe has become a monument in your relationship — your first date, the place where geto officially asks you to be his partner with a big bouquet of flowers that you’re hiding ur face wherever you go for the rest of the day cause it’s huge 😭 he brings you there with his racer friends as well (gojo cheers and nanami scoffs that these things weren’t for him but he loved their pastries wheeee)

attentive, attentive! always leaves his jacket in the car for you if you get cold in his Mazda. resorts to a jacket he doesnt like to wear much but bc he always puts you first, he doesn’t mind :(

geto doesnt like to race with outerwear on him so he always loves seeing you greet him after a successful race with a big grin on your face, jacket swallowing ur physique as u keep urself protected against the tokyo chill !!!

said this before but he looooves seeing you in his car. it just ignites something in him, seeing you propped up on the leather seats and looking out the window when you’re driving. it just gets him sort of feral

ALSO also bc his Mazda was his first proper and real racing car he’s very selective of who he lets touch it / sit in it etc

so when gojo does it he swats him away like a fly and asks him not to dirty his finishing as also geto is the only one to be seen in his car until you come along and gojo sees you sitting on the hood

hes reaching forward to tell you to get off bc he knows suguru doesnt like it but your bf only walks up between your legs to greet you with a big smile. the betrayal gojo felt 💀

overall the relationship with geto is quiet and calming. no need for talking if you dont feel like !!! all racer geto needs is his hand on your thigh that’s always stroking the skin there and you

but loves it when you do talk! he tries so hard not to turn to you cause if he does he’d crash the car 😭😭 he just loves ur beauty and the way you ramble so much !!

one time he swerved and almost hit a car because he was watching you talk about the recent research you did on cars and also running back the terminology he’s been patiently teaching you

to hear his partner talk about cars >>> he’s so excited that you’re finally entering his world that he gets so engrossed and almost collides 😭

NO MORE pls omg he was more scared than you were

but also running off on that, geto is understanding when he teaches you about terminology about racing, abt the parts in a car. he took apart an old car in his garage just to teach you and he loved that you were trying your best to memorise everything 🥹

getting into an rs with geto also has given you more confidence, so he loves how you strut your stuff. he wasnt complicit in anything truly !!! didnt force you to wear anything or do anything you didnt want to, so he was very proud of you when you came out of your shell

geto would love you either way :3 hes just a sweet boy like that

i also relate him to han very closely from f&f… always eating his snacks in tokyo drift LMFAO - geto is chill, letting you feed him his snacks as you cuddle up on him on his hood and watch the new race

ok so, he LOVES racing and geeking out about them but he finds sometimes he watches you way more than the races and before then the race is already over 😭

“suguru! did you see how i crushed the other guy?” gojo emerges and shouts across the parking lot and geto is just like “huh? sorry i wasnt looking was too busy looking at my lover” LMAOOO

when you can’t attend his races you always make it a point to send a selfie with your cherry keychain and he sends one with his berry one back and its just soooo cute youre giving him so much wallpaper material!!

also likes to bring you on drives at night - if you need to rush something or study you bet he’ll be there. he’ll try not to interrupt you, looking at your knees tucked in your arms and memorising your notes

he plays those subliminal audios as a joke and annoys you in the process 💀 

and then just pecks your forehead in apology as he watches or helps you with assignments while occasionally looking out the window and smoking

geto always has a hand on you. it shows his possessive streak and just a general love for physical touch

like i said doesnt pressure u into anything but you’ve expressed interests in his tattoos before

you get a tramp stamp with him for your first one! the pain wasnt that bad, more from lying on your stomach for like 2.5h because of the shading lol. it’s a simple one, but a popular one because of the culture

geto offered to pay for you and you rejected, and he said “alright. half at least” and you didnt exactly oppose that because you were running low on jpn yen for your overseas exchange stay

the tattoo looked so good omfg geto was like . going INSANE it was lowkey funny

gojo and nanami wouldnt hear the end of it for like 3 weeks 😭😭😭

had the photo of you and your tramp stamp as his lockscreen for the longest time

as always tattoos are very addictive! you got a few more in the short span of 6 months (maybe 2-3 small ones) but what really made geto go like. clinically insane was this super big on on your thigh (peep the very first post of this au!!)

it’s a spider with chinese traditional ropes and it was by far your biggest one, taking a dent in your account that you had to lie and ask ur parents for more money after and promise to pay back by working part time

ok i need to preface this part first that geto adores your thighs - you didnt show much of it at first but when you start to be more comfortable with the racing scene he almost came in his pants when you first wore a miniskirt

so to see such beautiful ink on YOUR thighs oh my days felt like you were a goddess walking down the steps to his garage

has a little matching tattoo with you :( it’s not too obvious, but has features of berry and cherry on the both of you <3 down the line he would get other vague and subtle couple tats with you but if you want to mark up your body however you wanna he’d like that too :3

so i actually left the latest fic on a cliffhanger… bro was so heartbroken after you left :( couldnt race properly, couldnt focus in uni, poor boy

even gojo or nanami couldnt get thru to him, but over time he got used to the distance and timezones. moves his whole set-up to the garage just so he’d get better wifi there and also show the latest upgrades to his car !!! the webcam quality is pretty shitty on both ends though so you get disappointed more than once trying to talk to him bc the call isnt connecting well :/ 

continues to send those berry / cherry pics where you���re miles away, and more than once suguru has gone to bed crying :(( but i will keep these sad ones short bc i hate angst and also i might wanna write a next part uh… we’ll see

geto also mails things to you which take ages to ship and you only get the presents one month before you finish uni for good and 💀 it’s so funny seeing his shock at you having just received his gifts

a sweet, sweet bf who takes care of you immensely <3

n*sfw hc’s under divider

now >:) i also dont want to go into too much detail because. i might. MIGHT. continue. do not ask for the next part explicitly tho that shit annoys me. but geto loves to see your body on his car and the risks that come with it

you guys fuck more in his car compared to his or your room looool.

fingers you when he drives sometimes. when you’re feeling needy all you need to do is drag his fingers to your throbbing core and let him feel how wet you are. 

he tries so hard not to look at you bc you know what happened the last time, so he relies purely on his touch and your hands, fingers slipping inside your panties and he grabs onto the steering wheel with the hardest grip

geto has the patience of a monk, however, letting you use him for your high and grinding down on his fingers. it’s usually not after the race or errand that he properly fucks you bc he knows if he starts he will. not. stop. not even lying

has adrenaline high after racing and will fuck you always unless he’s roughed up, but unlike gojo he probably will drive to a more secluded area. the car is there, the risk is there, it gets geto all riled up

one time he was pissed his opponent scratched his Mazda while racing and while he still won, he pushed you into his leather seats to slam into you. he was going so hard the car was shaking, and he teasingly shows you the brief video gojo sends you later, caressing your very sore legs (you were fine with the recording)

“guess i went too hard, huh?”

you shove him and tell him jokingly, “tell your pervert friend to stop filming us!”

“you like it. me showing everyone who you belong to.” geto is so possessive i swear

loves fucking you in the mountains bro is freaky asf. brings you on late night drives and lays on the hood with you to watch the stars - sometimes it ends cleanly but most times you’re feeling up each other until you’re bent over his Mazda letting him fuck you raw

has fucked you while in the driver’s seat, riding him. has given u oral as u lay on the hood of his car, done a full nelson in his backseat whew you name it he’s so gross and filthy. 

when u contrast it properly with how loving and generous he is and to him when it comes to you and your body the difference is insane. but it also sometimes seeps through when he can’t handle your cute outfits and just has to land a smack and squeeze to your ass

ok this isnt n*sfw but it’s so hot of him - he HAS done this before. made you sit in gojo’s car as he drifted around you in a quiet tokyo crossing late one night and oh my god you made sure he knew how attractive you thought he was. gojo left right away when you two started flirting 💀

likes to both give and receive, so the first time you go down on him was possibly just right after he’s done the drifting around you and you couldn’t resist palming him from the passenger’s seat. you asked him to pull over immediately went to the driver’s side and started pulling at his pants.

you didnt even think that your knees were going to be on gravel so before you could kneel down to suck him off he took his jacket from the back seat to put on the ground …. and then proceeded to get the best blowjob of his life LMFAOOOO

getos a little crazy it’s ok i can take him ! but yea hes filthy thru and thru and dude he missed you sm when you left back to your country.

of course, of COURSE has jerked off at the thought of you, to photos you’d send of a new outfit. also has proposed having phone sex. webcam sex is reserved for special occasions because the sight of you playing with yourself is enough for him to book a flight 😭 he possibly couldnt handle it so he settles for your voice only

he doesnt like to share you, but when you do ask if youve ever thought of getting gojo and nanami in on the fun …. ooh. good luck

again his possessiveness shows so he doesn’t let them fuck you raw lol but rather ask them to get their own condoms 💀💀

his friends r freaks too you realise but it’s time to time where the three of them will organise dates to have some fun with you, but only when youre comfortable. geto putting ur comfort first always 🙏

so sometimes you reject them bc you have an exam comin up etc and geto just treats you in his car or your bedroom alone and even with just him, hes already enough to make you go crazy and moan <3

peep that op has that same exact spider tattoo on her thigh~ teehee

[svtfilthandfiction]

hi!! love ur posts so far :) would like to request how seventeen would fuck/please you on your birthday ty <3

How Seventeen please you on your birthday

A/N : Hi Anon, if you sent this on your bday, I'm sorry for the late reply butttt, Happy (super) belated Birthday!! If it's not your bday, save it for your birthday!!

Seungcheol - Firstly takes you to an expensive dinner and promises you that he has another surprise for you at home. The second you get home he's taking his shirt off and leading you to the bedroom for some birthday sex <3 (that's the surprise)

Jeonghan - "It's all about you" lets you do whtv you want to him, he just lays on the bed and actually shuts up for once. You wanna sit on his face? Go ahead. You wanna ride his dick to get off? Sure. You wanna use him for your pleasure? He's your good playtoy.

Joshua - Also takes you to a fancy dinner because he's a gentleman. He's more of a gentleman when he gets down on his knees and spreads your legs, diving into your cunt because he knows how good it feels. Doesn't stop until you cum couple times.

Junhui - Gives you orgasms as gifts. Like he does give you an actual gifts buttt every orgasm is an extra gift. Tries to give you as many orgasms as the number of age you're turning, but doesn't want to tire you.

Soonyoung - He is your cake. Places pieces of cakes on him and tells you he's your birthday cake. You end up eating cake off of his body, but when you get to his abs you can't take it anymore. Ends up with him fucking you on the kitchen counter.

Wonwoo - Is a little more gentle with you just bc it's your birthday. Slows down the pace and fucks you slow and deep until you're coming around him.

Jihoon - Asks you what your sexual fantasies are and makes them come true. It could be anything, he's down as long as it pleases you. At one point he knows you're inventing but goes along with it because it's your birthday <3

Seokmin - Won't let you touch him because this is about you not him. Would beg you to sit on his face and use him to get off. He might use his fingers too, but not his cock (maybe later on) bc he insists that this is about your pleasure not his.

Mingyu - Uses his mouth, fingers, cock, whatever to make you have the best orgasm ever that you'll remember every other coming birthdays. Finger fucks you until you're squirting and then licks it up before giving you his cock >>>

Minghao - Decorates the bedroom with petals (or confetti) and all that like it's your first time having sex. He just wants birthday sex to be meaningful and passionate, not just random sex.

Seungkwan - Does all the things you like most to please you. If he knows you like it when he rubs your clit that way then he'll do it that way. No teasing, just pleasuring you bc its your bday

Vernon - Boy eats you out until your legs are shaking and clamping around his head. you don't think you've ever felt this good cause damn, he really knows how to please the birthday girl.

Chan - Let's you dominate him for once bc he knows how much you wanna try. Let's you dom him around, call him names and use him like a toy for your pleasure. Ends up liking it way too much.

Hello, sorry for the late post, I hope you enjoyed this one! Happy birthday to those bday girls reading this rn! Requests are currently closed!

[majinbangus]

Majin~ idk if my original ask sent so I'm gonna send it again just in case, Tumblr must find my asks delicious bc they get eaten like 85% of the time 🥲

Hello! Idk it you're taking requests now, or if you've already done this prompt/theme before, but I was wondering what it'd be like to be one of the many people Johnny flirts with on base, and you brush it off bc he's such a flirt. And yes, while Johnny will flirt with just about anyone bc thats his default setting, he's low-key going out of his mind bc he wants you to see that with you, it's different! It's genuine and sincere! What will it take for you to realize that the only person he's got a huge crush on is you?

Idk just wanted to see this from your perspective! No worries if you don't feel like writing anything for this, still love ya!! 😘

hey anon, sorry for the wait, getting my groove back slowly, but here it is. i might do another version of this some other time tho bc i had another vision for it but ended up with this

You don't know why he's been so affectionate with you lately. His playful flirting has gotten excessive, too. It's weird. He's being weird.

It's not like you dislike the attention, but you know he doesn't mean anything by it. That's just how he is. You know you're firmly designated as ‘friend’ in his eyes. A painful fact you've known ever since he made that comment to his ex about never seeing you in a different light because you ‘weren't his type.’ 

Yeah, that stung a bit, and you were a little offended, but that was more ego talking and less romantic feelings at the time. 

Unfortunately, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Yours, specifically.

You don't quite remember when exactly it happened, but you know it was sometime during the last few months of his last relationship. That was an agonizing time, and over a year since the end of that relationship plus several flings later, you're still pathetically pining over a man who will never see you as anything more than a friend because quote ‘he could never be attracted to someone who wasn’t his type’ unquote.

Now, you have to put on a smile and pretend it doesn't make your heart malfunction whenever he flashes that dimpled smile at you, or when he rests an arm over your shoulder while he walks next to you calling you all sorts of pet names he's never called you before. Not to mention all the times he feeds you a piece of his lunch, and when he grabs your wrist and makes you feed him. That barely scratches the surface of his newfound behavior around you.

Soap has never shown you more flirtation than the usual shallow amount he gives to anyone he's not dating. To be bathed in it out of nowhere is a shock to your system. An enigma you can't comprehend, nor are you eager to question it lest you lose his sudden affection. And despite the delusional part of you wishing he meant something by it, deep down you know it's simply false hope making you imagine the romantic adoration reflecting in those pretty ocean blues of his.

“–so what do you say?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You blink a few times, trying to force yourself to focus on Soap and not how bright his eyes are, or how warm his body feels pressed up against yours with his arm slung around your shoulder. He's so close, it's making your heart do fireworks.

“I asked if you wanna meet up next time we're on leave? We rarely hang out outside of work and drinks at the pub.”

“I can't.” It's not that you don't want to, but you don't really see the logic behind it, either. “One, we don’t live remotely close to each other, and two, I have family coming to visit.”

Soap laughs at your excuses, tightening his arm and pulling you impossibly closer. “That just means I can meet them, love! I've been meaning to sight see where you’re from anyway!”

It's your turn to bark out an incredulous laugh. “Sight see what? Soap, the city I live in is shit.”

“Och, can't be that bad if the locals are half as lovely as you, darlin’.”

“That was terrible!” You giggle, nearly doubling over at his cheesy flirtation, but despite yourself, you can't stop the fluttering in your heart, hoping he doesn't realize how much you actually like his attention and stupid charming words, or how you can barely share the same space with him without feeling like your chest is going to burst, or the obvious hearts in your eyes every time you look at him. “Please tell me you use better lines than that!”

Soap pays no mind to your laughter with that lopsided smile on his lips. He stares at you with those stupid, pretty blue eyes, strong arm still around you almost as if he's staking some kind of claim on you, like a leash or collar. You wish that was the case. You'd give anything to be marked as his.

“They seemed to work for me so far.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Aye.”

“Psh, then save the cheese for someone you want.”

“What if I want you?”

“What?” He sounds so earnest you have to stop a moment, shrugging off his arm, and turning to face him. Soap doesn’t flinch, staring back at you with such intensity you laugh uncomfortably to ease the growing tension in your chest. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Soap. You almost got me.”

“I’m being serious. I want you.”

“Since when?”

It’s a genuine question. You’re not playing dumb intentionally–well, maybe a little–but after so long of pining after him, this is something you need him to spell out for you. Even then, a part of you is ready to laugh off whatever he says next. 

Because what you have with Soap doesn’t go any deeper than a close friendship. It never has and never will be anything more than that. Even when you want it to be more, you know he’d never love someone like you. 

“Soap?” You tilt your head at him when he doesn’t answer. His smile has dropped and he’s looking at you with that cute frown of his you’ve always loved. The one when he’s deep in thought, doing all sorts of calculations or analysis on whatever has him stumped. 

“I don’t know how I can be any clearer, hen.” He talks slowly. Low and soft as if in disbelief. “Thought I’ve been obvious with my flirtin.”

“We ‘flirt’ all the time!” You laugh, trying to deflect the growing hope you feel. “We’re friends, Soap. Stop messing with me! Besides, I know I’m not your type.”

Surprisingly, he sounds offended when he asks, “Where’d you get that idea?” 

“What, that I’m not your type? You said it.”

“When?”

“When you were with what’s-her-face? The crazy possessive instagram model.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’, that always stuck with me, so thanks for that.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

You give a derisive laugh. “Then why’d you say it?”

“She was insecure.” Soap furrows his brows in regret, running a hand through his mohawk. “I thought I liked her at the time, so I said it to make her feel better. She didn't like you.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” You mutter bitterly. “I respected boundaries, and she always thought I was trying to ‘steal you from her.’”

Soap mumbles under his breath, “Don’t think I would have complained if you did.”

“What was that?”

“Nothin’, bon.” He sighs, the tension falling out of his shoulders before he squares them again, staring at you in a way that makes your breath catch. “Listen. I know it might be hard to believe, but I’m not takin’ the piss. If you give me the chance, let me prove how serious I am about you.”

“Soap…”

“Darlin’...”

Fuck. A flash of those blue eyes and you can feel yourself hope. Would it really hurt to give in? Just this once? Maybe, maybe not.

Sighing, you inwardly scold yourself knowing you’re jumping headfirst into the unknown, but…

 “Fine. One chance.”

Soap’s never broken that trust before, and from the grin on his face, it tells you he’ll always be there to catch you.

“One chance is all I need.”

[jasmines-library]

I think I visit your blog an unhealthy number of times bc it's just my go-to for some good old fashioned hurt/comfort and it's just. You are such an incredible writer 😭❤️!! could I request a batfam fic where the reader undergoes a depressive (or numb) episode/the vibe that comes with a character just falling down wordlessly on the couch and the other character saying "bad day?" and the character nodding and giving them a blanket // if this is too specific absolutely no worries, either :D! any and all characters are alright, thank you so much!! please take your time with the requests and I hope you have an awesome rest of ur day :]!!

Aww anon! That’s so cute! I hope you enjoy and I hope you’re doing okay! :)

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

WHUMPTOBER DAY TWENTY :Prompt: necrosis/wound cleaning.

Warnings: numbness and a depressive episode described.

Word count: 1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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You had fallen into that pattern again. That dreadful, hateful pattern. It comes and goes in waves; Numbness followed by dark sadness that weighed heavily in the middle of your chest. Suffocating. 

You couldn’t help it. You never could. The feeling would just wash over you all of a sudden. Hit you like a ton of bricks. And usually you felt like there was nothing you could do about it except let it play out its course. So, you spent much of your time alone. It didn’t help much. Being alone made you feel worse in many ways. You yearned for normality; Dick’s laughter and Damian’s small unamused grunts as he pretended to be interested in what was going on. You would have given anything to not feel this way again. But right now it was all too much. Even just moving felt like too much of an effort. So you remained numb up in your room, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

You were sure you had traced the patterns in the ceiling at least a hundred times in the last day or so. It was that or overthinking. You couldn’t stop the influx of thoughts. They would come all at once all angry and disappointed. And you would ponder on them for far too long before they vanished just as quickly as they arrived, leaving you once again alone.

Your family had noticed your withdrawal. They had seen you in this state before and it broke their hearts to see  you in it again, but they weren’t sure what to do. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for their emotional intelligence. They thought the next best thing to do was to give you some space, but to extend a hand if you asked for it. You never asked for it. You didn’t know how. And you didn’t want to be a burden to the rest of your family. So you remained silent.

One night, you had decided to venture out of your room. It was a quiet evening. Late autumn so the sun was already beginning to set despite the early hours of the afternoon. It had taken you a long while to decide that you wanted to move, but nevertheless you stood and moved towards your favourite spot; a place that you often found solace in. The armchair was large and plush and positioned by the window so that it caught the last slivers of golden light as they streamed through the window. You curled up on the plush leather, watching the trees shed their leaves and the sky turn a deep blue. It was a few hours later, when the stars had appeared in the sky, when the door cracked open.  The figure was silent, save for their bare feet padding against the wooden flooring. 

It was Jason who approached.  He had a blanket slung over his shoulder and two steaming mugs of hot cocoa in his hands. He paused, studding you for a moment as you stared numbly out the window. He had seen you here before. It brought him a sense of deja vu that he’d rather not feel again. Taking a step forward, he let out a gentle sigh. 

“Hey kiddo….” he started. You glanced up at him. Jason smiled sadly. It was a start. “Brought you your favourite. Thought you might be thirsty.”

He extended a mug towards you. It was topped with cream and marshmallows which were slightly melted. It was just how you liked it. Goddamnit. You took the mug from him and took a sip. The sweet liquid melted on your tongue. 

“Thank you…” You said quietly before the two of you fell into silence. Jason watched you as you went back to staring out of the window, trying to gather the words to say. It was clear that he was worried; they all were. He just didn’t know how to make you feel better. If he could even make you feel better at all. He hated seeing you like this; so lost in the darkness of your own mind. He hated it not only because you were hurting, but also because he knew that feeling all too well. He knew how much it hurt. How difficult it was to feel anything but numb and self hatred. 

“Bad week again?” he asked gently.

You just nodded. Jason always seemed to understand without pressing you. 

“Here…” he handed you the blanket, draping it over your shoulders.You hugged it tight around you, immediately overcome with the sense of familiar comfort. 

Jason didn’t say much more after that and you even less. But he took a seat on the armchair across from you before curling up with his book. It was a simple but effective gesture to show that he was there for you without overwhelming you. You glanced at him, taking a sip of your drink. And for the first time in what felt like forever you began to feel again.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

<- DAY NINETEEN⛧ DAY TWENTY ONE->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[kingdumkum]

WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA

this has been a long, long time coming. hopefully it’ll live up to the obscenely high expectations i’ve set. agree or disagree, please reblog/comment/send an anon with your thoughts--but make sure you read the RULES of interaction first.

summary: your date stood you up… again. Don’t worry, though, Baji will be there to pick up the pieces, like he always is. The only question… what will you do when you find out his secret? wc: 15k (we don't talk about it)

cw: virgin fem afab!reader x virgin!Baji, a lil itty bitty baby bit of blood, somewhat public (initially), bc why not, marking, creampie, Confessions galore, somewhat gendered pet names (princess, babe, sweetheart), actually gendered pet names (one handful of "good girl," "pretty girl," and "my girl"), subtle yandere themes but not to the extent a DC label is needed—correct me if I’m wrong though—be nice if I missed something, this is my first time :) way too many words but c’est la vie such is the way.

dedication: Storm, my friend, your support and advice has made me a better writer. Without you, this would probably still be sitting in my drafts, collecting dust and every hateful thought I’ve ever had about my writing. Thank you for being you and all of your aid in getting this to where it is. 💛

Your coffee’s cold when you give up. Well—second coffee, to be precise; the first you’d ordered after Tadashi said he was a few minutes away. That one had grown cold too, but the barista, taking pity, had given you a piping hot refill—for free.

It feels like an insult when she offers you a third.

An hour and a half has passed since Tadashi said he’d be there, and… well, you were still kinda hoping he might show up. But when the manager approaches with a tight-lipped smile, not-so-kindly pointing at their hours plastered ever so neatly on the glass door and indicating they’re just a few minutes to closing, your hope ebbs entirely.

The heat in your cheeks could’ve rewarmed your cup—but not one to cause a scene, you offer a tight-lip smile of your own and apologize. You don’t explain that you were waiting for someone; the pitying look in the barista’s eye as she mouths sorry and slides the unwanted third cup your way says they know.

You slip into the bathroom, wondering how in the world you could be so stupid— again. This was your third first date in three months… and the third time in three months that you’ve been stood up. 

It hurts more when you check your phone. Two new messages from Emma, asking how it’s going and if you want to grab dinner to dish; one from Draken, asking if you can bring back a vanilla frappe and a triple dark roast espresso with two pumps of caramel; one from Baji, saying he might be late to pick you up, but he’d be there, and could you get him an order of whatever you’re having?

Nothing from Tadashi.

You don’t respond, instead letting your phone rest against the mirror while you stare at your reflection and try, desperately, to convince yourself it isn’t your fault.

Everything had been going great—you thought. You thought he really liked you, that he was excited to get to know you, and that this one, this one for sure would show up. You made jokes that he found funny, you were just the right amount of flirty, and you knew—thought—hoped—the picture you’d sent of your outfit (a simple sundress that accentuated your best features and wedges that made your legs seem endless) was enticing enough that he’d want to see it in person.

But here you are. Crying in the bathroom of a cafe you’ll never be able to return to, wondering how you’re going to explain to your friends that you got stood up.

Again.

Your phone starts to buzz. With a deep breath, you wipe off your dripping mascara. You force yourself to smile at the hollow reflection staring back at you, then answer with an overly-cheerful, “what’s up?”

“Kenny’s worried.” Baji’s familiar drawl echos, making the space seem even smaller. “I said he was being too overprotective, but—well, you know how he is. Said it’s his duty or some shit to make sure you’re okay. He tried to come down here himself, wanted to meet the guy trying to woo you—can you believe that? He actually said woo—“

“What do you want?” you interrupt. Too harsh, you realize when Baji doesn’t answer. “It’s just—I’m kinda in the middle of something, you know?” 

Baji takes a moment, then forces a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, the little princess’s got a date, we know. God, they wouldn’t let it go. You should be thanking me, ya know, I’m the only reason they’re not all crashing—”

“Baji.”

The line falls quiet. Then, softly, “where are you, y/n?”

You frown and start searching for your mascara. “At the coffee shop. Why, where are you?”

Another pause. This one heavier. With the phone tucked to one ear, you slowly swipe the wand over your lashes. It’s clumpier than you usually like, but it’s better than nothing—

“I’m outside.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoes. You mouth another fuck, heart plummeting, then start reapplying your mascara. More carefully, now that you’re out of time. “I, uh—I’ve been here. A while.”

“Oh… yeah?” you question, teeth starting to grind. “How long’s a while?”

Baji clears his throat. “Long enough. You gonna come out, or are ya gonna make me come in?”

Mascara gets tossed in your purse, gloss comes out. “You’re not exactly welcome in the ladies room, Baji.”

You can picture the dangerous curl in his smile when he replies, “not without an invitation, babe—why, you asking?”

Your laugh isn’t completely real, but not unnatural, either. You hover the gloss over your lips, and for a moment, you imagine what it’d be like. To sneak someone into the bathroom, kissing until your lips start to bruise, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his lips marking your skin, his voice whispering your name…

You shake the thought away. There’s no point in getting your heart broken twice in one day.

“Three’s a bit of a crowd for a single stall,” you deflect. “Be out in a minute.”

Baji hums. Your gloss feels too thick, but you don’t take it off. You fluff your hair again, placing it the way you like, turning your necklace so the clasp faces the right way, lips smacking together once, twice, three times—

By the time you run out of things to do, you think you’re ready. You pick up your purse and give yourself a final once-over. Pretty, you think. Doesn’t look like you spent the last seven minutes sobbing in a public restroom.

When you exit, Baji’s still on the line, but he doesn’t hang up. You know, because the teasing, “well shit, babe, if I had known you’d worn that, I would’ve come two hours ago,” echoes; once from your phone, and the other from the man himself, standing right in front of you.

You laugh, and this one isn’t forced at all.

Baji’s smile gleams in the evening sun. A low wolf-whistle causes your face to warm pleasantly—the way it should have, when you met Tadashi. You take Baji’s extended hand, not flinching when his callouses rub against your soft palms. 

You’re used to their roughness. Much like the others, Baji’s always been a hands-on friend (and fighter), so over the years, you’ve gotten used to the various bumps, cuts, and jagged edges, to the extent that the only hands that’ve ever felt comfortable have been those rough ones, soft only for you. 

Baji spins you, over-exaggerating the way he checks you out. “Sweetheart, you’re going to stop traffic looking like that.”

“Oh, please,” you deny, but your smile hasn’t been this genuine all day. “Laying it on a little thick, Baj.”

“Only the realest truth for the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” is his sly reply, accompanied by a slyer wink. It’s his usual charm, but you’re oblivious to his sincerity, the way you always are. Baji pulls you into a tight hug and closes his eyes, and for a moment, he allows himself to pretend this was your intention all along; to wind up in his arms, with his compliments, by his side—the way it always seems to go after every failed date.

But you never say as much, and you always seem so genuinely excited for the next one that he’s never going to ask. Instead, he’ll take these moments. The ones where you turn to him for comfort, where he gets to hold you, your knight-in-shining-armor, and do all that he can to make everything better.

He’s so close that you almost miss his muffled whisper of, “fucking—stupid bastard. Doesn’t know what he’s missed.”

Your smile slips. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, familiarly cracked with scabs that never seem to heal. These are fresh, though; you can tell by how his hand darts to the back of his neck, preventing you from looking too closely. 

“Been up to no good?” you question with a raised brow.

“‘Course I have,” he responds easily, “you’ve been busy.”

Baji won’t meet your gaze. ‘If only you knew,’ he thinks—but he’ll never say it. Not that. Not to you. He shrugs off his black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fingertips lingering as he straightens the collar. His dark eyes flick to yours, a coy smirk almost hiding his guilt as he hopes beyond all hope you don’t see through him.

You almost do.

Not enough to call him out on it, though, so instead, you roll your eyes—but you can’t deny how this—him—is making everything better. He picks up the helmet he only brings when he’s driving you and puts it on for you, visor up so he can brush the hair out of your eyes. Baji offers a comforting smile, then juts his chin to his bike. “Wanna ride?”

The answer, of course, is yes; for him, it will always be yes.

Silently, you climb on and wrap your hands around him, chin tucking into his shoulder as if you were made to be there. He revs and pulls off, seamlessly weaving in and out of traffic. Your eyes close. The wind whips in your hair, and the familiar scent of nicotine, mint, and Baji’s crisp aftershave envelopes you. For a moment, you feel like everything’ll be okay. Your heart might hurt now, but after an evening with him, it’ll all be okay.

That’s the power of Keisuke Baji, though; the sense of embarking on your greatest adventure but feeling like being home, all at once.

It’s nearly sunset when he stops. Pulls up to the river, kicks the bike stand, then grabs your waist to lift you off the seat.

“I can do that,” you say, even as you let him lift you.

“More fun when I do,” he replies with an easy grin. Your feet hit the ground, but Baji keeps one hand around your waist. He takes off the helmet with the other and laughs when your hair flops out. Hurriedly you go to smooth it, but Baji catches your wrist after setting the helmet down. “You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

He cages you between the bike and his hips with just a few inches of space—and suddenly, your heart starts to race. When did he get this close? How hadn’t you noticed the way his leg slid between yours? Why isn’t he taking his hand away? Why can’t you breathe?

Baji’s dark eyes dart between yours, then down to your lips, and for a second, for a split second, you think he’s about to kiss you—

“Not like anything can make it better now,” he smirks, and if it weren’t for how his fingers were locked in yours, you would’ve slapped him.

“Asshole.” 

Baji laughs, and you swear the moon shines a little brighter. You’re grateful that he turns to check out the area before he can see just how much of an impact his laugh has on you—though you don’t doubt that he knows. He’s Baji, after all, and you’re not blind (or deaf). He’s handsome, witty, flirty with anything that moves—and that laugh of his could bring even the tides to a standstill.

“Coast’s clear,” he says, looking back at you, a lazy smirk curling his features. It shouldn’t be a surprise, hardly any ever comes this far south of the city—but a few weeks ago, you’d accidentally stumbled upon a couple who were… not expecting company, to put it delicately, and ever since, Baji had been extra cautious to make sure it was just the two of you before getting settled.

He takes a few steps backwards, leading you to your spot; a grassy knoll that overlooks the river as it feeds into the darkened sea. The moon slowly rises over rolling waves while the sun, more a memory, sets over the river’s bend. It’s a secret, sacred place for the two of you, where heartache and daydreams don’t exist; only the moon, the tides, and each other.

Your stomach flips but you can’t tell why; this is exactly what happens every time you come here, from the way he helps you off the bike to how he stops you from picking at your appearance. The only difference is the way his hand is still wrapped in yours. 

You wonder if Tadashi’s would have been this warm. 

But Tadashi isn’t here—Baji is, and it’s Baji’s warm hands that always make things better. So you let him keep his hand in yours, even though you’re not sure you should, and you let him gently tug you along when you don’t move fast enough. Let him take his time in taking his jacket back, in spreading it on the grass before waiting for you to sit. You even let him settle next to you, instinctively leaning into the familiar comfort of his body and for a minute, you wonder how you ever could’ve wanted your day to end different.

Then Baji meets your gaze, smiles that sweet, genuinely kind half smile that he only shares with you, and you remember: Baji is your friend—and no matter how many heartaches he heals, that’s all he’ll ever be.

You can’t remember when things got so complicated.

When it was just you and Kenny, you’d sneak up to the roof of the brothel and watch the sun dip behind the buildings and talk about how one day, you’d get a house that was that color pink, and it’d be on the far side of Japan where you could watch the sunset from your porch and life would be good. The sunset was the only dream you’d ever need, and it would be good.

Then Mikey started coming. More often than not he’d fall asleep before the sun did, and on the days he didn’t—the roof felt too… small. The dreams, too… little. They evolved, from a porch where you could watch the sunset to a skyline that never sleeps.

Dreams change, and that’s okay… but a part of you aches for the time when the sunset felt like enough—when the family you had, the brothers you’d found and the friends you’d made—was enough. You still had the sunset, but rarely. More often than not, you were by yourself up there, or stuck to Kenny’s side somewhere out there, or brushing against Baji’s shoulder down here.

So these days, you prefer to watch the moon rise. There’s more comfort in a light to guide you through the night, rather than watching your dreams disappear with the day.

And you do, the way you do every time you’re stood up or don’t feel—enough. You sit beside Baji with the full moon crawling towards you, staring at the conjunction of the river and the sea, and focus on how you’re going to get through this.

Baji cut his hair since the last date—the last time you’d been stood up, you correct. Still long, but now only to the edge of his jaw, not mid-back like you were used to. The light is bright behind him, bringing out the warm undertones in his onyx hair. You can make out the scab on his cheek from a bar fight a few weeks ago; the scar on his nose from when Mikey split it the first time they fought; the tender bruise along his jaw that looks too new to have told you the story yet.

Instinctively, you reach for it… then chicken out, instead teasing the edge of his hair. You’re left wondering if an angel’s wings would be as soft.

Baji glances at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t like it?”

“What? I didn’t say that.” Your hand falls back to your lap, eyes quick to follow. The light behind him is too bright—too blinding. Too much like a halo. It’s impossible to hide the truth from an angel, and you know you don’t have the right words to convey just how beautiful you find him. “Just… gonna take some getting used to. I don’t think you’ve ever had it this short.”

He scoffs. “Maybe at birth.”

The idea of baby Baji flashes through your mind; sweet, chubby cheeks, little fists flailing at the world. A tuft of hair, dark as his and long already, but when he opens his eyes, they’re yours—

“Why’d you cut it?” your voice is steadier than you expect. It does nothing to change your thoughts, especially when Baji’s slender fingers start pulling at grass, just the way a baby grasps what's in front of him.

He stares straight ahead, letting one hand splay by your lower back as he watches the green blades dance in the wind. “Figured it was time for a change.”

You hmm in acknowledgement, brain too traitorous to come up with anything other than, ‘I bet you were a cute baby’ or ‘you look handsome either way’ or, worst of all, ‘why would you ever want to change?’

He probably meant nothing by it. Baji’s as flexible as they come; sets his own hours at the shop, varies what time he wakes or goes to bed, never eats the same thing too many times in a row… there’s not much permanency in his life as it is, so it sticks with you that he still wants something different.

If he thinks you’re being weird, he doesn’t say so. He waits for you to speak, like always, and like always, you find yourself loving him a little more for it. Baji’s so—quick; to judge, to speak, to fight… but in these moments, when it’s the two of you and the moon and no one else, he’s not. He’s slow; slow to speak, slow to touch, slow to pull away…

Slow to make you wonder why you keep wasting time with boys who don’t deserve it when he might be enough.

The silence becomes too much; too easy to drown in. Too tempting to fill with all the wrong things.

“What happened to your jaw?” is the best you come up with.

It’s no surprise when he answers, “got into a fight,” but how he says it… how he immediately ducks his head and covers the darkening bruise with a broad palm, as if he’d forgotten all about it and wished you would, too… that makes you pause.

One tenet of your relationship is that you don’t lie to each other. There are often times you wish he would, like when Chifuyu teases him about the pretty girl at the pet shop who came back and asked for the number of the flirty hunk who sold her a dog collar and Baji admits she was pretty cute and he’ll take her to drinks tomorrow night, or when Kazutora reminds Baji that he promised to go on a double date with the twins they met clubbing so no, he can’t take a look at that leaky pipe in your bathroom—but you’d never say that. Not when he could, so easily, call you out for keeping your own.

So when he goes out of his way to not have to tell you the truth, you know better than to push.

“Did it hurt?”

Baji looks to you with a cocky smile. “You should see the other guy.” You snort. Baji knocks his shoulder into yours. “I’m good, really. Just… had some business, s’all.”

It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not. It only flares your curiosity… and honestly? Your annoyance. “I hadn’t realized a pet shop needed such security.”

Baji barks out a laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen how crazy some people get about their pets, ‘specially when they think Dr. Google is a better resource than Chifuyu’s degree… but nah, this was… off the books.” He catches your inquisitive gaze and offers a smile, but it’s more like a grimace in the lowlight. His hand creeps closer, fingers pressing into your back, and for a moment, you’re willing to let it go. He gently grazes the middle of your spine. “It’s done, alright? Finished. Won’t happen again.”

You know he’s lying because he holds you close, the way he only does when he thinks you’re about to leave.

But you don’t leave; you never leave. You just give him a withering glare you know he can’t see, then turn back to the ocean.

You hate this feeling. The one where the world becomes unsteady, and everything you’d been trying to keep buried since you were thirteen sneaks up on you. That horrid, awful, destructive fascination and jealousy and yearning that’s plagued you since Baji first bragged about stealing a kiss from the pretty girl that lived three floors above him and only gets worse every time he mentions someone new.

Going on dates was supposed to squash this. Meeting a nice guy, having a good time, and getting a kiss or two of your own was supposed to end this. This—obsession—you’ve had since the first time Baji said he hopes that one day, you meet the right guy and you accidentally thought, ‘maybe it’s you.’ Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s there. Not Tadashi, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Not Draken, who recently started putting Emma above all else (even you). It’s been Baji, your Baji, whose mere existence makes everything better, that’s been the last one standing.

You can’t ruin that. You can’t risk pushing away the only companion who still puts you first for something you’re positive you can find somewhere else.

At least, that’s what you have to tell yourself, as yet another date fails and Baji is here, again, picking up the pieces and making you feel more whole than when the day started.

The sky is nearly dark when you finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since the barista gave you that pity cup—the one that’s probably still sitting in the bathroom, the last witness to your heartbreak. Just as alone and unwanted as you. 

“What’s… wrong with me?”

Baji’s sharp. He alway has been, from the stern angle of his nose to the feral way his teeth carve like a predator’s. He watches everything—the road, the fighters, you—with a scrutiny that’s often clouded behind cheshire grins and snide quips.

But there’s nothing sharp about him tonight; only soft. Soft hands that gently grab your chin and force you to look at him. Soft breathes as he pulls you close. Soft words as he makes sure you hear him whisper, “nothing.” 

Baji’s eyes, dark and teeming with something you can’t place, move from one eye to the other; to the fingers on your cheek; to your tongue, wetting your lips. He leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hand slides back, gripping your hair like you're his lifeline and not the other way around, and you’re back to thinking okay, this is it, he’s going to kiss me, he’s finally going to kiss me—

But all he does is repeat, “absolutely—fuckin’ nothing, alright? And—‘n fuck whoever makes you feel otherwise,” before resuming his seat like nothing happened.

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It’s stale and hot and full of fury, your fury, and suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck you, Keisuke.”

“What?” Baji scrambles for your arm as you abruptly stand, too furious to even look at him. You rip away but don’t stop, trying to will the stupidness of—whatever this is—to go away, to release you so you can go back to feeling better and right and whole. “Wait—come on, I didn’t—what did I say? Did I do something? Where the hell are you going?”

“Forget it!” you snap. His every question—the fact he wants to make it right even though he’s the reason it hurts—just makes it worse. “Just—leave it alone, alright? It obviously doesn’t matter—” 

This time when he grabs your arm, he doesn’t let you leave. He pulls you in to him, nearly crashing you into his chest as he holds you in place.

“Damnit, y/n, what the hell? What did—why are you being like this?” For the first time tonight, he meets your eyes without falter. He tucks a hand under your chin, all but pries your eyes open himself to search for what you're hiding. You try shrugging out of his iron grip, but he’s too strong. “What did I do?”

“Nothing—” You’re horrified at the way your voice cracks. “Fucking—nothing, Baji, you did nothing—“

“Then why’re you so fucking mad, hunh? Why’re you acting like I’m the bad guy here?” His fingers tighten. It would’ve hurt, if you weren’t so angry. “I’m not the asshole who stood ya up—I’m not the one who’s been dickin’ everyone around, pretending like everything’s fine when I know, Draken knows—even fuckin’—Pah-chin—can tell that something’s wrong—“

“You’re calling me an asshole?” you gasp incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yes!” he retorts hotly—then, upon realizing how horribly angry you’re growing, quickly backtracks, “I mean—no! Actually, no, you know what, I did mean yeah, because guess what, princess? You are acting like an ass! You’ve got—all these people who wanna be here for you, I want to be here for you, and all you’re doing is getting mad at me for it—”

“What do you want me to say, Baji?” It’s useless, trying to get free, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “That I’m—heartbroken—at being stood up—again? That I’m done with dating, that I’m giving up, that everyone fucking sucks but I must suck worse—”

“They don’t deserve you—”

“Like hell!” Your tone is scalding. It must burn him just as bad, because a single lapse in his grip lets you rip your arm away. “That’s the whole goddamn point of dating, jackass, to figure out who’s worth what—and all this has shown is that I’m not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your hands against his chest, tears stinging your lash line. If you weren’t so angry, you might not have missed how his face falters when you push him away. “And you just—sitting there, and—and holding me like that, and—and telling me that I’m not the problem when I’m the only common denominator—you’re such a fucking liar—”

“You think it’s any easier for me?” he’s quick to yell, frustration making him bare his teeth like fangs. Anyone else would’ve cowered—but you stand your ground. Place two hands on his chest and shove, hard, forcing him back as he continues, “you think it’s any easier to see you gettin’ your hopes up, to freak out over what to text, what to wear, what to do—all for those fuckin’ dickweeds? Hunh? Guys who can’t even—spell your name right, or remember what your favorite flower is, or fucking—show up? You think it’s any fucking easier seeing you so goddamn upset over someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone spend time with you–be with you? Because it’s not, sweetheart!”

The sweet pet name that usually makes your heart skip a beat only aggravates you further. Your hands go from shoving to slamming, open palms against the hard muscle of his chest—but he doesn’t even flinch. Just catches your wrists before you can do it again and stares, like you’ve started speaking in tongues. “Oh, poor Baji, must be hard, hunh, thinking no one’s good enough, thinking everyone’s so lucky as to have people throwing themselves at them left and right—but newsflash, Keisuke, not all of us are like you! Not all of us have the ability to pick whoever we want, some of us actually have to work at it—“

“Stop working on the wrong guys then!”

“You’ve never even met them, how would you know—“

“Because they let me stand in the way!”

The world stills. 

You can’t place why; why this feels like a sucker punch, why your heart is suddenly skipping beats–why you can’t tell if this hurts. Not until Baji’s grip tightens, then his eyes widen, and you have a sneaking suspicion you know where this is going—but still, you ask, “what?”

He doesn’t respond. He can’t.

He lets go of you, though every fiber in his being begs him to stay. He takes a step back, though his heart pleads for him to wrap you in his arms and hold you close and tell you the truth, about what he did, why he did it, why he can’t bring himself to regret it…

He has to turn his back to you, to stare at the waves crashing along the sand as he tries to process just how badly he’s fucked this up and if there’s any possibility for redemption. It’s too late to lie. Too late to try and salvage this.

He’s made his bed; it’s time to lie in it.

Baji sighs–or something close. Something choked, not quite a laugh but also not quite a sob. Something is stuck in him, and even with the ice in your veins, you piece it together. Somehow, this—the failed dates, the heartache, the loneliness—it's all his fault.

Still, you have to ask. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You try making the venom in your voice match that in your blood, but you can’t. Not when he looks so—defeated. He runs his hands through his hair, doing a miserable job of either pretending he can’t hear you or attempting to buy enough time to come up with a plausible lie—though you don’t need him to. Not when his actions say enough.

It’s your turn to reach for him. Your turn to grab his arm, to keep him in place. You want to hold on to your anger, but the way his hands are shaking makes it impossible.

You draw him close, voice gentle as you say his name. You reach for his cheek, keeping his hands still with one of yours, and you tilt his head; he lets you tilt his head so that he has no choice but to look at you. 

When your gazes meet, you wait.

“I had to,” he eventually says. His voice is steady, but his hands aren’t. His fingers wrap around your wrists tightly, as if he’s afraid you might try leaving—but your grip on him is equally tight. “They weren’t good for you. They were jerks, and they were only going to break your heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I had to—I had to.”

“Had to… what?” He doesn’t answer, not until you prompt, “had to what, Baji?”

“Don’t—” he breathes. “Don’t… call me that.” His eyes close, and he leans into the palm on his cheek. For a moment, you pretend that he’s memorizing the feel of you, as if he’s scared to lose you—but that can’t be it. Keisuke Baji isn’t afraid of anything.

You’re not sure what’s more painful: the knots in your stomach or the hope in your heart. “Tell me what you did,” you muster up. “Keisuke, tell me what you did.”

When his eyes finally open, all of his anger is gone. In its place is something you’ve rarely seen, and even rarer directed at you: desperation.

“I stopped them.”

For a moment, all you hear is your own heart… then the waves of truth come crashing down.

“I—I found them, and I swear on my life, on your life—I only meant to talk to them, to figure out if—if they had good intentions, if they were gonna treat you right—but they all sucked, y/n, they were awful—going on and on about how they were—how they wanted to—to fuck you, just to say they could—or they weren’t—serious about how they felt and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t let them hurt you like that, so I… I hurt them first. Not—not much, just enough so they’d—get the idea. Leave you alone. Stay away from my girl—”

He cuts himself off, and for a moment, you’re frozen. You don’t know what to do, what to think—is this real? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Does he really mean it?

Baji’s voice cracks when he says your name.

“Y/n, listen—listen to me,” he pleads. His forehead presses against yours. Your cheeks grow wet, though you can’t tell if that’s because of you or him. “You are—the most amazing person in this whole freaking world. You get that? You’re—smart, and pretty, and so fucking funny and—and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. And it fucking—kills me—that you’ve got it in your head that what these—stupid pricks think is the only thing that matters, because it’s not. It’s never mattered. The only thing—the only thing that has ever mattered… is you. Okay? You.”

Your throat closes. Your hands reach for his, catching only wrists as he cradles your face, trying to ground yourself in this moment. In all the things he says and all the things he doesn’t; in the silent, desperate dream that refused—refuses—to die, taking over you once more.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” His lips are so close, they brush your nose. “I’d say I regret it, but I don’t, because— you deserve better. You deserve the world, if you want, or—or the moon and all the stars, and—and unless they’d get it for you, they don’t deserve you. Okay? None of them deserved you.”

You’re just a hair away from kissing him, from caving to the impulses you thought were dead and gone and hopeless all these years, and the worst possible sentence sinks out: “you’re an idiot, Kei.”

Then you lean forward and kiss him.

In an instant—you feel whole. You feel right, in a way you haven’t since you decided you never had a chance with him; in a way you’ve been searching for in the words of all the others who’d let you down, who’d broken your heart and always, always, always led you back to moonrise with Baji, back home—

Baji jolts. He pulls away and stares at you with a wild mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers ghost his lips, only to draw back as he stares at them, then at you, then back at them, like he can’t quite comprehend this hand is attached to his body—like you were. Like you want to be, like you thought he wanted to be, like you thought he was asking you to be—

Your heart plummets as he just—stands, no witty quip or teasing remark at the ready. No lines to read between; no phrasing to draw false confessions from; nothing other than the stillness of the night, and the pounding of your heart.

“Wait—” you shrink as you realize just how hoarse a single stolen kiss has left you. “I thought—please, Kei—”

A flicker of… something dances in his eyes, and then—he watches you. Studies you, with the same scrutiny he holds before a fight or when picking apart a bike to see what parts are broke and what can be saved.

“Say it again.”

It’s your turn to blink; your turn to have wide eyes and parted lips, to study him like you’re not sure how to fix it. “I don’t—“

“My name,” he says, and your heart starts to leap. “Say my name, sweetheart.”

“I say your name all the time, Keisuke.” You’re barely above a whisper. Barely above the fear that this time, he’ll break your heart and there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces because—you ruined this.

“Not like that,” he breathes. You forget how to. “Say it like it means something. Like—you don’t hate me. Like—”

“Kei,” you interrupt, hands coming to cradle his cheeks as you read between the lines, “I forgive y—”

He doesn’t even let the final word form before his lips are on yours. Hard, aggressively melding like he’s worried you might change your mind and wants to milk every second out of this as he can—but you reciprocate just as desperately. Keisuke’s hands wrap around you, one gripping the base of your neck and the other resting on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth opens, teasing your lips apart as you trade air, fingers digging into your soft skin like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch.

You pull away first, and that’s only because your lungs are aching—not that you mind. The pain helps make this feel real. 

For once, Keisuke’s grin doesn’t seem mocking. He moves a hand to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, sweetheart.”

“Not as long as I have,” you admit with a breathy laugh. Your hands lock around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, and you realize you’re smiling.

You kissed. Keisuke kissed you, you kissed him—everything makes sense. Everything is right, and with the moon and tides as your witness, everything is good again.

“Can I…” Keisuke starts, eyes flicking to your lips in an unspoken question. You finish his sentence with a kiss.

“You can always kiss me, Kei,” you say. “You don’t even have to ask.”

There’s the grin you recognize; the scheming, teasing grin that always makes your stomach flip in a way you thought meant he’s up to no good, but now realize as a sign you’d fallen for him long ago. 

“Oh, yeah?” he questions, brushing his lips against yours. “Only here? Or can I kiss… here?” He moves to the corner of your lips, then to the hollow of your cheek as he continues, “and… here? And maybe…”

He trails off, and he trails down, letting his lips drag against your cheek while his hand keeps you firmly in place, lips going done to your chin, down the column of your throat and back up. Your breathy yes would be pathetic—if it ever made it out. All that escapes is a breathy groan of displeasure when he stops, teasing lips hovering just above your own. “What’s that, babe? Want me t’stop?”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Your hands tangle in his hair, lips melding as your make-out turns heated. He slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking you to open—and you do. His hands curl around you, bringing you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Something digs into your leg. Something hard and unmistakable, and it leaves you grinning deeper than Kei.

You break away, laughing at his whine of protest and briefly glance down. Keisuke follows your eyes and is quick to splutter a nervous chuckle, hands dropping as he tries to step away with a short apology—though the way you catch his belt loops stops him. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t—I just—it’s your fault, y’know—“

“Shut up,” you giggle and drag him back. Now, you kiss him; once, twice, then a third before trailing your lips along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, along his temple, to his ear. “How about you take me home, Kei?”

Keisuke’s whiplash nearly hurts you. His eyes, big and brown and wide, stare like you’ve grown an extra head. His hands shakily splay against your back, as if he wants to keep you close but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. His voice wavers slightly when he asks, “but I thought… aren’t… I mean, isn’t this… what you wanted?”

Slowly, you nod. Even slower, you pointedly look at the space between you, bridged only by the tent of his black pants. You smile at the sweet way a blush covers his cheeks, and risk slowly trailing your hand along his belt until your fingertips are hovering over that stupid, shiny, obnoxiously big belt buckle you always tease him for.

“I want you, Keisuke, and I want you to take me home.”

He doesn’t need more encouragement. 

Keisuke’s kisses grow fiercer. He devours you, never once breaking contact as his hands slide to find firm purchase on the back of your thighs. With ease, he lifts you atop his bike, setting you in front of him and stepping between your spread legs. The hem of your dress slides up with his calloused palms, collecting in a bunch then pooling down to protect your modesty as he finds two handfuls of ass. He gives a squeeze, eliciting a delighted gasp from you, then pulls back with a toothy smile.

“Then have me, sweetheart. Always been yours, anyways.” 

Your stomach twists, the way it always does when he looks at you like that, and you like it. It makes sense, it feels right—and you don’t have to pretend to justify why it makes your panties wet.

“Gotta—gotta get home—“ you try saying, but Keisuke’s hands have a mind of their own. They’re the only reason you’re still upright as he starts kissing along your neck, carefully grazing his sharp teeth but never once digging in. Your arms lop around him, digging into his scalp and shoulders as he finds this one spot that makes you moan, and you almost curse him for what that smile has done to you.

“Fuckin’—insane—if you think I'ma make it,” he mumbles into your skin, and you think you finally understand how some people can climax from someone’s voice alone.

You laugh and intend to push him away and demand that he do, that you have to, that you need to, because this—isn’t like you, you’re not one to get hot and heavy like this, certainly not in public—

But you can’t think straight. Not when Keisuke’s hands are kneading your ass, pinching and releasing like he can’t decide if he wants to hold on forever or explore somewhere new. Not when his teeth nibble your neck, and you shudder at the unbelievably primal sensation running through you.

Not when the unmistakable hardness of Keisuke’s boner finds home between your thighs, and he starts bucking his hips. It’s subtle, and he doesn’t tease you for the pathetic way you start whimpering. He focuses on continuing to explore the expanse of your otherwise untouched skin, while all you can do is revel in the way your high starts building.

You’ve been kissed before, on the lips and neck and once a little lower, but no one’s ever done this to you; pressed against your collarbone. Moved your neckline aside to suck on the fat of your breast. Left a mark that’ll last longer than a minute. For a moment, you wonder if you should tell him he’s the first, but when the zipper of his pants starts catching your clit, the only thing you’re able to do is moan his name.

Loudly.

Breathy and passionate and different than before, and he pauses. Lifts his head from your collarbone, a thin tendril of salvia keeping his lips still attached to the sensitive skin you know will bruise. He lets one hand trail up your side and cup your face, staring like this might be the last time he ever sees you, all while his hips continue to rut against you.

“Say it again,” he breathes, thumb catching your bottom lip. “Just—just like that.”

“Kei,” you repeat, giggling at the way he brightens and starts kissing you, “we need to go home—now.” For good measure, you boldly let your fingers slide to the edge of his belt buckle, in case he needs some more convincing. His free hand darts to yours, but he doesn’t stop you. He laces his fingers in yours and guides you, letting you palm at his thick hard-on. He lets out a low groan and drops his head from your lips to rest at your chest, just above the collar of your dress. You card one hand through his hair, the other applying light pressure to the (you assume) very painful ache between his legs—and not at all because you know, if he kept bucking into your core the way he just was, the way he keeps doing against your palm—you wouldn’t be able to make it home, either. “Take—take me home, Kei—”

“Not—” he huffs. His grip on your ass tightens, but you can barely feel it. Not when Keisuke whines, low and needy, teeth coming out to nip at your breast, and all you can focus on is the ache between your own legs, getting even worse as his hips start moving faster, forcing the back of your hand against your cunt as you continue to palm him. His hips don’t stop; they push against you so fiercely, so desperately, that you cave, taking away your hand so there’s nothing between you but your clothes. 

You’re on the precipice in minutes; hands digging into his shoulders as you choke on a sob, pleading with him to go faster, to not stop, to keep making you feel good—and it’s made all the worse when he does, pressing his throbbing erection even harder against your soaked panties, all the while pleading into your skin, “can’t—can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—y/n—“

You gasp when his teeth break skin.

Keisuke’s hips still. Warm air saturates your chest as he groans into it, and for a moment you’re frozen. Your whole body aches, and you want to scream at the cruel way your orgasm was stolen—but you’re too in shock that he got you there that fast, that easily. Something warm trickles down your cheeks, between your breasts—blood? saliva? tears?—he doesn’t move. You don’t move. You’re not even sure he’s breathing, until his shoulders heave and your skin is warmed once more. A slight burn starts to spread across your chest, and when you open your mouth to ask him why the hell he stopped—all that comes out is his name.

You say it softly, then a little louder, but it’s not until you grab his face and force him to look up that he speaks—but his eyes are fixed firmly on the reddening bite mark forming atop your breast.

“M’sorry…”

A mean part of you wants to tell him he owes you a lot more than sorry, but the way his lower lip disappears as he nervously chews on it has you choosing otherwise. “It’s okay,” you comfort instead, “it didn’t hurt that bad.”

Keisuke grimaces. “No, I—” 

He sighs, head dropping back to your chest. Both arms wrap around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to the place he’d just bitten; the only way he probably figures he can keep close without meeting your gaze. He mumbles something, but you only know because you feel his lips moving.

“Can’t hear you…” you try prompting, but it only makes him snuggle deeper. He sighs again, loud and warm and in a way you’re familiar with—the way that really means, I can’t believe I have to do this… “C’mon, Kei, don’t you want to take me home?”

“Ididntmakeit.”

You have never, ever, in your life ever seen Keisuke embarrassed. Not when he told you about needing Chifuyu to tutor him post-juvie; not when he failed his college entry exams; not even when you accidentally walked in on him showering (in hindsight, he was probably a little too comfortable with how long it might’ve taken you to leave).

This was the man who went skinny dipping for fun. He’ll order fruity drinks for his friends who are too embarrassed to do it themselves. His approach to a lost fight is to get a rematch, not pretend it didn’t exist, and even in mundane moments that have you at a loss for words, like mistaking someone’s name or forgetting a face, Kei’s always quick for a retort or defense or a smile that makes everything better.

Keisuke Baji doesn’t get embarrassed—but that’s the only word that fits. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen, his breathing faster than his pulse. His eyes refuse to meet yours, and his fingers knead into clumsy, nervous patterns along the side of your thighs.

Then he takes a deep breath, and with one shaking hand, he slowly brings your palm to the crotch of his pants… that are now sticky.

Your eyes widen, and you’re almost too late to choke down a gasp. Kei’s eyes close, and he ducks his head in shame. “I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t—you're just—I’m so sorry—”

“Why?” It sounds curt, and you don’t intend it to. Better than laughing, you reason—although you will absolutely get him for this later… when it stops feeling like the most humiliating thing in the world.

Keisuke swallows. “I haven’t ever… you know.”

“What, cum early?” It’s cruel to tease, you know that, but you can’t stop the slight satisfaction that you—you—are able to bring a man like Keisuke Baji to his knees.

“No! I mean—no, I…” Kei looks out to the ocean, fingers still anxiously kneading into your thighs. The temperature drops, though you’re not sure if it actually does or you’re just feeling like it as you try to understand what’s happened, what’s happening—what you’re to do next. His jaw clenches and he tries to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. You wrap your legs around the backs of his thighs, keeping him in place.

“Kei…” you say softly. You don’t force him to look at you. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his abs, curling around his neck so you can rest your forehead against his temple and kiss his cheek. “I don’t care. Just means you gotta make it up to me—”

“I’ve never had sex before.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t look at you, because you’re not able to control the utter shock coloring your face. How is that possible? You’ve heard the whispers when you go out; you’ve seen the looks. At parties or bars or clubs, he’d find a pretty thing and disappear, and you assumed you knew what happened behind those closed doors—because why, why, why would you want to ask about that? 

The others didn’t dispel it, either; in fact, they’d constantly rip on him for his… gift, and Keisuke never fought back. He’d just smirk and wink and say, “it’s never disappointed,” and by the time you’d turned red, thinking about when you caught him in the shower and knew what they were saying was true, they’d moved on to taunting someone else.

So how the hell is it possible that Keisuke’s a virgin—and, more importantly, how didn’t you know?

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover. If he were to ask, you’d say you were just waiting for him—because when you do speak, it’s only when Keisuke turns to you with narrowed eyes, an apprehensive blush clear on his face. 

“Wanna know a secret?” you ask, forcing a teasing lilt to your voice—though your stomach twists. This isn’t exactly the way you wanted to tell him, and for a flash, you think of how disappointed he might be to learn the truth. 

But when he meets your gaze, eyes wide and focused entirely on you, somewhere between hopeful and nervous, you know it’s for the best. Your smile is sweet, but not as sweet as your lips when you kiss the crinkle between his eyes. He immediately relaxes, hands stilling as he leans into you. “Neither have I.”

He straightens and pulls far enough away so he can examine you. For a minute, your confession hangs between the two of you, then Kei starts floundering, “but I thought… you said… but he… what about your ex?”

You shrug, your own cheeks starting to flush. “It never felt right.”

Keisuke blinks. His mouth parts, eyes darting between yours like he’s waiting for the gotcha!, but all he receives is the embarrassed way you can’t meet his gaze, feeling as if you’ve somehow let him down. You squirm, his warm hands still atop your thighs sending butterflies to your stomach, and shrug again. “I dunno, I just—didn’t think it was fair. Doing that with someone, when all I could think about…” you swallow, lips twisting as you debate whether or not to tell him the truth. 

He catches your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Think about what, sweetheart?”

The way he asks tells you he already knows; but like earlier, when you knew and had to hear it anyway, he needs you to say it, too.

So you take a steadying breath. You gently trail a finger down the side of his jaw, and you make yourself smile as you say, “you, Kei. It didn’t seem right if it wasn’t you.”

This time when he kisses you, it’s slow. He takes his time in tasting you, in savoring the moment. He lets you guide where his lips go, how his hands wander, and he waits for you to pull back before he suggests, “how about I take you home now?”

Your stomach flutters. Fingers knot at the base of his skull, and slowly, a smile spreads on your face. 

“I’d like that.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You can feel the joy in it, one that doesn’t fade for either of you as he unhooks your legs so you can properly straddle the bike, then tucks the helmet on you and pops on himself.

“Hold on,” he calls as he revs the engine, “might be goin’ a bit faster than usual.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, and even though you know he probably can’t hear you, you add, “I’m never letting go.”

You make it to Keisuke’s apartment in seven minutes flat—which, normally, would leave you terrified, given his place is twenty minutes from your spot, but you doubt that’s what’s got your heart racing. He barely gives you enough time to take the helmet off before his hands are back on you, easily scooping you up and carrying you up the stairs. You bump into a few walls, and the way you’ve got a loose grasp on his helmet sends it craning into his back just as often, but neither of you care. Between fits of giggles and cautious glances to make sure he’s not about to walk you through a glass door (or down a stairwell), you kiss like it’ll be the last time you ever get the chance to.

“Anyone home?” you mumble into his lips. He slams you against the front door of his shared three-bedroom apartment, using his hips to keep you up while he tries to find the lock by memory.

“Nope,” he replies, lips busy with your skin, fingers fumbling uselessly behind you. “Stupid—fucking lock—told Tora to leave it—never fuckin’ listens—”

“Relax,” you laugh, although that’s rich coming from you. Your legs tighten around him as you break free from his kiss, instead sucking along the column of his throat. Freeing his face is supposed to give him enough room to actually look for the lock, so the two of you can stop dry-humping in the hall and finally get the privacy you need—but like always, Keisuke does the unexpected.

He throws his head back and moans, giving you more access to leave a matching hickey—and you’re not strong enough to resist the temptation. A whine starts in his throat, from where you’re sucking on his pale skin. The keys clatter to the ground.

“Keisuke,” you scold—but before you can tease him for being in a rush, his lips are back on yours.

“Never gonna make it,” is his only defense.

“Gonna—gonna have to,” you reply, but every time you try pulling away or reach for the keys yourself, he grabs you. Wraps your wrists in his rough hands, pins them to the door beside your head, and leans so far forward that, even with your limp legs, he’s able to keep you up himself. “Kei—“

“So help me sweetheart,” he warns, hips rolling against yours with a sense of urgency only outmatched by his kiss, “if you keep saying my name like that, I swear to the gods I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

“So help me, sweetheart,” you shoot back, breathy and hot as you try to avoid the way his lips chase yours, “if you don’t get me inside right now, I might let you.”

He freezes. Pulls away from the delightful bruise he’d just been leaving below your ear and stares at you with a mixture of awe and utter delight. “Really?”

You swat the back of his head. “No, dumbass, open the fucking door.”

Keisuke’s lips, pink and bruising slightly, twist in a pretend pout as he squats. He keeps one thick palm under your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around him as he snags his keys. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“Says the guy who does—that,” you try scoffing, but you’re cut off with a moan when Kei stands and bounces you against his hips. His boner is back and harder than before, pressing into your core, the messy, wet mix of your drenched panties and his earlier cum making a lewd sound in the otherwise silent hallway. 

“Does… what, babe?” he teases. “C’mon, finish that sentence.” 

You don’t know how he finds the focus to actually find the lock this time, but you thank every deity in the world that he does—because it takes just a second, a single, solitary second for him to jimmy it in, slam the door open, and you’re finally alone.

The door frame rattles. Something falls, but you can’t tell if it’s the mirror you insisted he hang above the entry table you insisted he get or if it’s the rickety old coat rack Chifuyu said would ‘class up the joint’; all you know is that as soon as the key is in, Baji’s hands are back to cradling your thighs for support as he crosses the threshold. 

You reach for the door, but he catches it with his ankle and slams it shut, quickly spinning to pin you against it.

“Really—” you pant, “really got the place—to ourselves?”

“Mhm,” Keisuke confirms. He leans into you, palms rubbing along your thighs until they get to your knees, silently asking you to wrap tighter around him. You do, and the moment he feels your ankles cross at the small of his back, his hands move to your waist. “Told ‘em—needed space.”

“Oh?” you question, your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and tug, tug, tugging—“And when’d you do that?”

He reaches behind his head and yanks his tee off, tossing it carelessly into the darkness of the apartment. You hadn’t even paused to turn on the lights.

“After I saw Tadashi.” You can tell he’s grinning, especially as you drag your nails along the chiseled plane of his abs. His hands slide up your torso, thumb rubbing your stomach through the thin cotton of your dress, grazing the underwire of your bra. “Told Tora this one wasn’t gonna work, either, ’n he said I should just tell ya the truth, 'cause he couldn’t watch me mope around all night again—”

“Mope?” you tease. Kei’s fingers dig in. “Kazutora accused you of moping?”

“Well—shut up!” he whines. “You try watching the person you’re in love with go out with guys who don’t deserve them and tell me you wouldn’t start moping either—y/n? Why… are you looking at me like that?”

Your eyes are wide. Your hands go limp, the helmet falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Your lips part to say… something, but you’re not sure what.

Keisuke’s told you he’s loves you a thousand times; the brief ‘kay love ya! before he hangs up; the gentle love you, see ya tomorrow whenever he’d bring you home; the drawn out gods I love you after you’ve surprised him with his favorite meal—but none like this.

None so… blatant. So unmistakable.

Kei stares at you curiously, as if he isn’t even aware of what he’s just said. He repeats your name, hands leaving your waist to catch your chin.

“You’re… in love with me?” 

Keisuke blinks.

For a moment, you think you must’ve misheard, he must’ve misspoke, you must have misunderstood—but a brilliant smile breaks his face, and he nuzzles his nose against yours. “‘Course I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I’ve been in love with you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you—”

You kiss him.

The gentlest one yet. The way you always dreamed your first one would be; soft, sweet, lips pressing together while your hands held him close. Heartbeats synching. The world falling away as it’s just the two of you, in this moment, endless and forever.

There’s only one thing to say when you pause: “I love you too, Keisuke.”

Your teeth knock together as Keisuke can’t contain his smile, either. Hands move, one around the small of your back and the other under a single thigh. Your lips never part as he carries you to his room.

He sets you at the foot of his bed and stands above you. His chest heaves, bare and flushed with need. Your hands slip from his neck to his bed to keep yourself propped up, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Keisuke’s hands travel to your knees, and he just—stares.

He loves you. How could he not, with the way that pretty dress puddles on his mattress, exposing nearly all of your leg but hiding what he’s been waiting for his whole adult life? How could he not, with the way his spit makes your collar glistens in the moonlight, filtering in from behind those sheer curtains you insisted he get? How could he not love the way you say his name, reaching towards him, fingers catching on his belt buckle as you ask him if he’s ready?

“Not yet,” he whispers. The hoarseness of his voice, the way it’s dropped several octaves from merely seeing you on his bed, sends a jolt of electricity through you. You’re about to ask why, but the reverence in how he’s looking at you makes you not want to break this spell.

He trails his fingers along your calves. Gently, he unhooks your legs from his waist. His fingers shake as he struggles with the straps of your heels, but when you go to help, he catches your wrist. 

“No,” he repeats, “not yet.”

You keep quiet and merely watch as your best friend, the man of your dreams, takes his time in undressing you. One wedge, then the other, falling off your feet with a dull clank! on the carpet. Keisuke kisses your ankles, then starts kissing up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs—

The anticipation has you dripping. Your thighs instinctively clench when he gets to your hem, hands curling into fists by your sides. Your panties are uncomfortably glued to your cunt, sticky in a way you’ve never been before, and he’s not even lifted your dress to see yet.

Keisuke rests his chin atop your thigh. “Please,” he pleads—pleads—“Let me—baby, let me. I wanna taste you.”

Today is not the day you learn to refuse him.

Your muscles shake from anticipation as you slowly spread your legs, but that’s not enough for him. “Baby, no, I—I wanna hear you say it.” His voice is soft, shaky. A little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if this’ll ruin the moment but he knows he has to be sure—he has to hear you say it… if only to revel in the desperate way you say his name. 

“Keisuke, please… whatever you want, have it. Just—touch me, Kei, please, I need you—“

“Need you too, sweetheart,” he praises, running his lips along your thigh. “Gonna—gonna have you now, okay?”

His fingers still shake when he lifts your dress, exposing the black lace of your panties to him. At first glance, he can’t tell that they’re absolutely soaked—but that doesn’t stop the way you start to squirm in embarrassment as he just… stares. His thumbs dig into the fat of your hips, broad palms keeping your thighs spread and pinned to the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s not breathing.

“Kei?”

He doesn’t look up. 

His grip gets tighter. His eyes narrow. Before you get the chance to ask him what’s wrong, he growls, “you wore these for him?”

You blink. That is not what you were expecting, but before you can defend with they’re my lucky pair, or I wanted to feel sexy, or it doesn’t matter, I’m here with you—Keisuke’s ripped them off.

You yelp when the fabric bites your skin, failing to wriggling away as Keisuke strips them off your ankle. “What the fuck—“

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he mutters. “Shit—I’ll get you a hundred pairs, but you get rid of every single set someone else has seen. Got it?”

Your lips purse. He’s being unreasonable, you think, and totally ridiculous… but no matter how much your brain tries to reason he’s out of line, your fluttering pussy doesn’t get the message. Your slick is evident now, exposed and iridescent in the moonlight, dripping down your hole and slowly saturating the sheets.

Usually, Keisuke wouldn’t let it go. Usually, he’d keep picking at it until you cave, or at least recognize you heard him—but usually, he’s not staring at your cunt. 

Right now, he can’t focus on anything but how desperate he is to be inside you.

“Yeah, think ya got it… fuck, babe… seems like you like it when I say shit like that, hunh?” 

You whimper slightly, having to bite your lip to keep it together. Slowly, he drags the tip of his finger from the sheet beneath you up along your wet folds. He barely touches you, but when he pulls his finger away, it’s covered in a layer of you. 

He brings it to his face with a cocky grin, watching how the pad shines in the moonlight. “You always this wet, or am I special?”

“Shut up,” you shoot back, preparing to bring up how special he found you earlier—only to immediately throw your head back and moan as Keisuke buries his face between your legs.

There is no preamble. There are no more teasing quips or pauses; Keisuke dives in like a man starved, and the only thing that can sate his appetite is you.

He starts with broad strokes, gathering as much of your slick as he can. He’s messy, messier than you, and soon there’s more of his spit than your wetness between your legs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned and spread on his shoulders as he continues to feast, thumbs spreading your lips open so he can truly devour you.

When Keisuke starts suckling on your clit, your fingers knot in his hair. You moan, loud and whiney and plead for him to keep going as your orgasm starts to boil—faster than before, more powerful too, with greater ease than you’ve ever managed to pull from yourself.

Keisuke brings a hand to your clit, quickly swiping the puffy bud with the pad of his thumb as he focuses his tongue on your fluttering hole. In and out, up and down, the warm muscle drives you insane. Your grip on his hair must hurt, but he says nothing; he focuses on making you feel as good as humanly possible, never once letting up, not even when you start to choke, “Kei—I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands. “C’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my face, wanna feel how you clench, wanna make ya cry—”

It sends you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your back arches. Your thighs try closing around him but still, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pace, tongue-fucking you, lapping up all the juice that spills out as his thumb continues caressing your clit until you do start crying and you do have to plead, “no—no more, Kei, can’t—“

“Can,” he corrects—but he stops. His hand stills, moving so that the warmth of his palm covers that sensitive bundle of nerves, and only then does he stop lapping at your hole. He presses a gentle kiss to your sex, then to your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice tonight, sweetheart. Only ‘cause I love you, though.”

You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. The paint is peeling in the corner. The glow-in-the-dark stars you helped him put up when he first moved in are dim. The walls are covered in motorcycle posters. A calendar set to the wrong month hangs above a salvaged desk, covered with various veterinary textbooks, barely legible notebooks, a handful of empty beer cans, and a handful of DVD cases, one of which you know is Dyslexia; How to Read When Even Your Brain Doesn’t Want You To. A neon sign advertising Margaritaville is unlit beside his closet. A pile of clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper rests beneath it.

 The room is so—Keisuke , you feel at peace, even as your limbs turn to jelly.

Your heart is racing faster than if you’d just run a marathon. “Thought—thought you said you hadn’t—“ you try panting, but it’s too much effort, too soon. You end up collapsing back on the bed, head swimming with euphoria.

“Said I hadn’t had sex,” Keisuke corrects as he stands, your limp thighs falling to the either side of his waist, “not that I’ve never eaten pussy.” He scoffs, as if that should’ve been obvious. “I’m not an idiot, babe. I respect women enough to know where the clit is.”

A little laugh escapes you. The fan motor is the only other sound. It’s cool, your nipples perk beneath your bra, but you’re still hot. Still hyper aware that Keisuke is just a few inches away, watching your bare cunt flutter and beg him for more.

Keisuke does love you. You know he does, because he gives you time to catch your breathe before he starts up again, only pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs and quiet offerings of, “so fuckin’ pretty” and “can’t believe you’re here” and, your favorite, the only one you respond to: “so in love with you.” 

“I love you too, Kei.”

He runs his hands along your sides, slowly taking more and more of your dress up with it until the entire thing is resting by your neck. He makes quick work of your bra, not even needing you to sit up as he unhooks it and lifts the cups away.

He says nothing; just stares at your naked body with the same adoration and awe he held when taking off your shoes.

“You’re—so beautiful,” he whispers. “Y’know that? So—so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He bends down and takes a pert nipple in his mouth. You whine, hate yourself for doing so, then whine again as his free hand starts tweaking your other nipple. He runs his tongue over every inch of your chest, making sure you’re covered with his spit and hands, traversing as much of you as he can.

When he gets to your face, he smiles. “You’re mine, yeah? All mine?”

Your fingers run over his jaw, over the bruise that’s barely discernible in the moonlight. No one’s touched you like him; no one’s even kissed you like him, either, and you’re not sure if it’s the “Keisuke” of it all making you feel like this, or if this is how it’s supposed to have felt all along. 

The answer comes easily.

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile of your own, “yeah, m’all yours, Keisuke. Pretty sure I always have been.”

“Always, hunh?” He holds you gently now; a stark contrast to the hungry way he’d just devoured you. “That mean you’ve always loved me, too?”

Your breathy yes is lost in a gasp when his hand slides between your legs. Gently, he prods a single thick finger into your virgin hole, shallowly dipping in and out. “Never had someone else in here, hunh? M’gonna be your first?”

“Y-yes,” you repeat, voice cracking. Your eyes flutter close as he keeps fingering you. You’d had fingers in there before, but none like this. Your own couldn’t compare, two of yours barely able to stretch the way one of his does… and he’s not even going all the way. Not even knuckle deep as he explores only the shallows, letting you adjust.

Your face scrunches when he adds a second.

“This okay?” he asks. You look at him, hand wrapping around his neck as you bring his forehead down to meet yours.

You nod, then remember what he said earlier, how you could feel his cock jumping when you were sweet and needy for him. “Yeah, Keisuke. Yes—yes, I want this. I want you.”

He cups your face and trails soft kisses from corner to corner, breaking apart only to lift your dress and bra over your head. They’re carelessly thrown to the floor, you have half a mind to scold him that it’ll wrinkle—but when he goes back to your cunt, two fingers halfway in, all you’re able to say is the harsh inhale of his name.

They’re shallow, never pushing in deep enough to hurt, slowly stretching your rim to its max. He goes a little deeper, then starts scissoring them, and it becomes nearly impossible to believe he hasn’t done this before.

“No—no way you’re a virgin,” you hiss when Keisuke’s lips travel to your breast. He alternates between sucking hickeys and kneading them while staring at the way your cunt sucks him in, never stopping his ministrations.

Keisuke lets out a short scoff and shifts. “You literally made me cum my pants like a teenager.”

“Then how—“

“I told ya, babe, I respect women,” is his only reply. The only one he’s willing to give, at least, because he starts paying more attention to your tits than what questions are spilling his way.

You feel like you’ve got to be ready when he adds a third, and you say as much—only for Keisuke to meet your gaze with a cocky grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re gonna thank me for this.” 

It can’t be much longer until he deems you ready, but it feels like forever, even if he keeps you distracted from the slight burn between your legs by playing with your breasts, sucking on your throat, praising you.

“Taking m’fingers so well, pretty thing. You’re such a good girl f’me, can’t believe you made me wait this long…”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you scold. He curls his fingers mid-way through your sentence, rubbing against a sensitive spot you’ve never been able to find on your own. You keen his name, hand snapping down to catch his forearm. He pauses.

“Too much?”

Slowly, you shake your head, eyes watering. “Please, Kei, I—I want you to fuck me.”

Keisuke presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Never could say no to you, sweetheart.”

If you could think clearly, you’d start listing all the times he has denied you, starting with just a few seconds ago—but him withdrawing his fingers leaves you feeling too empty to do much but pout.

When he pulls away, you chase after him, only for him to shake his head with a fond grin. “How am I supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me take my pants off?”

With hot cheeks, your lips twist. “You were the one who wanted to fuck on your bike, and then in the hall—what, were you planning on stripping naked then, too?”

You’re rewarded with a very rare, very endearing blush. He sits back on his knees and rubs his neck, eyes dropping from yours—then his lip curls in a smirk. “With how wet you got, seems like you wanted me to. What—you like the idea of that? Getting fucked in public? Don’t worry, sweetheart, maybe we’ll try that one day…” He laughs at the way you squirm, but he’s not wrong; your cunt clenches at the thought.

“You’re such a dick.” Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly as you try to undo it. Keisuke’s hands take over, getting rid of the black leather in seconds.

“Your dick,” he corrects, hands back on you, gently laying you back against his pillows, trailing over your now completely naked body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You roll your eyes but say nothing, heart in your throat, pussy pulsing in anticipation.

He straightens, taking in the display in front of him. Taking in you.

You sit up slightly, chewing your lower lip. He’s beautiful, but even more so in the moonlight. It illuminates his pale skin, almost making him glow in the darkness of the rest of his room. Obsidian hair falls in a straight sheet around his flushed cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Violet and red marks adorn his neck and chest. His abs flex when he watches the way your eyes trail down; down the inlet between them, down the stern jut of his prominent v-line, over the faint trail of dark hair that disappears into the band of his jeans.

His fingers—the ones just inside you—hover on the button. They’re covered in your slick, resting just above a bulge that looks absolutely delicious, one that you know he can’t wait to bury inside you—but still, he hesitates.

“I love you, Keisuke,” you say. He smiles. It’s the only further confirmation he needs before he’s pushing off the bed and pulling down his jeans and underwear in one go.

The others have lied about a lot—like Baji’s lack of virginity—but the size of Keisuke is not one of them.

Your jaw drops as you push to your knees, staring at Keisuke’s cock like it’s the first you’ve ever seen. It’s not, and technically speaking, it’s not even the first time you’ve seen his—but that time in the shower, when it was hanging heavily between his legs and you only caught a glimpse… apparently, that was him soft.

Keisuke hard is more impressive than any porn you’ve seen. So heavy that it can barely support its own weight, even with all the blood rushing through it, and so wide around even Keisuke, with his broad palms and lanky fingers, doesn’t dwarf it. 

A thick bead of pre slips out the tip, trailing along the bulging vein that disappears under Keisuke’s hand as he starts to stroke it.

“This… is where the others tapped out,” he says slowly, taking in the way you watch. “I mean—not that I’m thinking about them—but I just—“

“You’re big.”

Keisuke chokes on a laugh. “So I’ve heard. Pretty virgin like you wouldn’t know any better though, would you?”

You give him a withering glare. “I’ve sucked dick before, asshole. You’re big.”

Keisuke’s jaw clenches. “Yeah? Go on, then. Show me how you’ve sucked dick.”

Later, you’ll tease him for how jealous he got, and later, you’ll revel in the possessive way he determines to erase every other touch from your memory—but now, you obediently crawl towards him, one of your smaller hands overlapping his, and you take control.

You press a soft kiss to his flushed tip. It’s larger than your lips, his pre a salty gloss as you kiss again and again—Keisuke grips your hair. “Suck.”

It’s as much a plea as it is a command, one you can’t ignore. You take him,—just the tip—in your mouth, tongue swirling over his warm head as your hand replaces his on the rest of his dick. Your fingers barely touch, and no matter how you adjust, how you lay your palm or spread your fingers… there’s still at least an inch of him exposed.

He hisses, nearly drowning out the lewd, wet sound your pussy makes as it clenches around nothing.

“This—turning you on?” he says, as if his cock isn’t twitching obscenely against your tongue. “Fuckin—sucking on a big cock making you wet?”

You let go with a wet pop! and bat your eyelashes at him. You know exactly what you’re doing when you say, “No, Kei. I’m this wet ‘cause of you.”

With a groan, Keisuke pulls your head back to his dick and thrusts in, sliding as far as you’ll let him before you start to gag. “That’s—that’s it, sweetheart, get it nice and wet.”

He holds you there for a moment, waiting until you tap on his thigh before sliding out. Your eyes are teary, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Deftly, you twist your wrist while catching your breath. His fingers go from knotting in your hair to petting the back of your head.

“You keep doing that, I’m gonna bust,” he warns, but his fond smile gives him away.

You merely smile. “Telling me you’ve never had your cock sucked, Kei?” 

His lip curls in a snarl, which disappears with a groan when you take him in your throat once more. Slowly, lips pursing around him, tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cockhead as you try going as far as you can. Your jaw is already starting to ache, but you’re determined to prove yourself.

“Not—like this,” he moans, pushing your head a little further down. Your lips split in a smile, and you raise your hand to start fondling his balls—a trick that’s always gotten you success before—but before you make contact, Keisuke is sliding out and grabbing your jaw. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown out with lust. He stares at your lips then leans forward, not flinching at the taste of himself on you.

“Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbles. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to lean back, nodding.

“Want you to fuck me too,” you agree. One of Keisuke’s muscular thighs slides between your legs, easing them apart. He keeps kissing you, letting you fall softly against his pillows while he keeps stroking his member, slick with your spit.

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit. You hiss in surprise, eyes closing shut at the sudden sensation of pleasure that rushes through you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says quietly. He grips his cock right beneath the head, guiding it through your slick folds, getting as much of your fluids on him as he can. 

He’s torn between needing to see the way you suck him in, and the need to squeeze his eyes shut. The sight of you alone, legs spread on either side, pussy gushing because of him, covering in marks because of him, mewling his name as you beg him to fuck you—it’s almost enough for him to cum on the spot. 

Faintly, honks echo from the street below. It’s amazing that in this instant, as your world is about to change forever and for the better, everyone else is going about their business like nothing’s happening. They’re catching a late-dinner with their partner; walking home from a late-night meeting that could’ve been an email; swinging by the grocer’s to pick up snacks and drinks to share with their friends… The whole world is continuing on, just beyond that window, but for you and Keisuke… it’s as if time’s stopped. 

The world is only real for the two of you.

He bends down to kiss you, making sure to pour every ounce of love and care he has into this one. You respond just as sweetly, reveling in the power of this moment, this one decision that will irrevocably tie you together forever, the way you were always meant to be.

He loves you, you love him, and there’s nothing else that matters.

“Ready?” he asks. You nod, then echo, “ready,” and he puts it in; just the tip, spearing past your tight hole. The two of you let out a synchronous gasp.

It’s even more than three of his fingers; warm, too, and thick, softer but also harder and full—you’re so, so, so full as he slowly edges in. It hurts—it feels good—it burns—you need more—

“Baby,” Keisuke pants. He’s let go of his cock, letting just the first inch or so rest comfortably within your walls. You feel him twitch, feel how tight his fingers dig into the sheets on either side of you so he doesn’t add more bruises to your ever-growing collection. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me—are you—are you okay?”

You whimper slightly when he sinks a little further. Eyes scrunching, your fingers digging into his thighs as you try to even your breath. “It—it’s so—“ you try saying, but it’s like you can feel him in your stomach, the pressure tightening all the way up your throat and cutting you off.

“So—good,” Keisuke gasps. He does the best he can, really, but you—you’re so—warm, and wet, and inviting—the place you’re joined might be the best thing he’s ever felt–ever seen. He slides a little further, presses a kiss to wherever he can reach as he waits until your chest stops heaving as horribly. He tries telling you he loves you, he really tries telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are, how good you feel—but all that comes out are choked, half-sentences that fade into groans.

Tears prick at your lash line by the time he’s securely sheathed in you. Your fingers dig into his back, trying to pull him flush to your chest and bury his head in your neck so he can’t see. You know how he’ll feel; he’ll pull out and say he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt you and it’s not worth it and he won’t try again–and that’s not what you want. You just need some time to adjust, that’s all. 

You never realized how empty you were.

Keisuke lifts up from the crook of your neck when the first tear slides against his cheek. “M’sorry,” he breathes, kissing one eye, then the other, licking the tear tracks and kissing you again. “M’sorry, I don’t wanna hurt—“ His arms shake on either side of you. The urge to start shifting his hips is sinful, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not until you're okay, not until you tell him it’s okay.

“It’s—okay,” you breathe. Your face says otherwise, but really… it’s okay. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, offering him a little smile as you shift your hips ever-so-slightly against his. “I’m—I’m okay, baby, really. Just—just go slow.”

Keisuke kisses you. Slowly, deeply, spreading your lips with his as he gently pulls out and slides back in, heeding your directive to go slow. It hurts, it still hurts, is it supposed to hurt like this—but right when you’re about to give up, right when you’re about to tell him it's too much and maybe you should stop… it starts to feel good.

Not just full, but satisfying, bumping against the back of your messy cunt with every stroke. The ridge of his cockhead catches your insides in a way that makes your toes curl, and before long, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Gods—fuck, Kei, fuck—“ you hiss, burying your head in his shoulder, biting his collarbone to keep yourself from screaming. “Just—there, like that, don’t—fuck—“

“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he hisses. Your broken pleas of, I am, I am, I am—go unrecognized as he slowly picks up speed. “Virgin pussy—heh—always feel this—fuckin’ good?”

You moan, loud and unreserved, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. Your stomach burns. Your pussy clenches, but for the first time, there’s finally something to hold on to, finally something to fill you up—you’ve never been so full, never felt so good. The coil tightens in your stomach, made all the more tense by the fact there’s something inside— “Gonna— gonna cum, Kei, don’t—don’t stop, please—“

“Yeah, sweetheart? You gonna—gonna cum for me? Go on, cum f’me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me what we’ve been—been waitin’ for—“

You cry when your orgasm finally washes over you.

You’ve never climaxed this powerfully before, to the point that you’ve felt like—this. The world is empty besides the two of you. Bells ring in your ear as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body floating. You feel everything and nothing; like you’re weightless but have never been so heavy in your life.

You gasp for air, fingers digging into Keisuke’s shoulders as his hips stutter a few more times then still. His moans into your ear as his own orgasms consumes him, painting your insides white, shooting so much it drips out of your spent pussy and starts to puddle between you.

He stays there for a moment. Lets his lips trace lazy patterns beneath your ear, still half-hard inside you, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other holding your breast. Even though you’re spent, your hands delicately trail up and down his spine. Your breathing is heavy and your smile bright and you think you could stay right here forever.

The plastic stars one his ceiling smile down at you, and you imagine the ones outside are doing the same. ‘About time!’ they seem to say. After all these years, about time. There’s a shrill whistle of bus brakes, screeching to a halt; a muffled shout from one pedestrian to another. The fan creaks slightly, the cool air washing over you and helping calm the raging fire on your skin. The clock on Keisuke’s lopsided nightstand, made even with a stack of textbooks he never got to put to use, beeps at midnight: the end of one day, the start of forever.

Kei takes a deep breath and slides off, hissing as his sensitive cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. He lays on his back, taking a hand and placing it over his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart.

Your legs are sticky. They’re already getting sore. Your hips ache, your spine stretches, your chest burns—but you relish it. Kei’s breathing evens beside you. 

Glancing, you check if he’s asleep—but with the way his forearm covers his eyes, you can’t tell. He looks even more like an angel now. Light, from a city just waking up, creeps past the curtains, illuminating slivers of his pale and flushed skin. He looks–relaxed. Content, even with the blush still coloring his high cheeks bones. His lips are parted, shallow gasps of air being sucked through them, but the longer you look, the more it looks like they’re curling in a smile.

His chest rises and falls steadily, and just when you start to think he might actually be asleep, the hand beneath your neck starts playing with your hair.

“Think it’s—always this good?” he asks breathlessly, pulling you in a little closer.

You pretend to think. He tilts his head, cracking an eye to look down at you curiously. You smile. “I don’t know. Think we better try again—y’know, just to be sure.”

Kei barks out a laugh and pulls you to his chest, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And right now, with the gentle light filtering through his open window, sweaty and smiling and with his cum dripping from between your legs to make a mess of his thigh, you are.

You play with the edges of his hair, sprawled lazily across his sweaty forehead. With a soft smile, he reaches for your fingers and pulls them to his lips. “Do you actually like it? My haircut, I mean. Pretty sure you liked the other stuff.”

You answer with a laugh, pressing a kiss to where the edges fall. “I love it.”

He grins and rolls over, pinning you to the mattress. The short locks make a curtain, hiding the two of you from anything but each other. “Good. Did it f’you.”

“For me?”

He hums and buries his face in your neck, delicately kissing the bruising skin. “Noticed your type. None of them had long hair, ’n I thought…”

With a pealing laugh, you grab his cheeks and bring his face to yours, smothering him with kisses. “Keisuke, you are such an idiot.”

He pretends to frown, but kisses you all the same. “Weren’t calling me that when I was making you scream earlier.”

“Kei,” you say, forcing him back so you can really meet his eyes, “short hair, long hair. No hair. The only kind of guy I’ve ever truly wanted has been you.”

Keisuke blinks. Short, thick lashes bat against those endlessly high cheekbones of his, and then he smiles. He lowers his lips to yours once more and gifts you a kiss; deep, slow. A kiss that’s been years in the making, that says all that your words have and then some.

“I love you,” he says, and you barely have time to say the same before he’s kissing you, hardening cock easily gliding back through your sticky folds, and you go for round two.

So... happy adventuring :) thank you for reading! if you made it this far… pls reblog, drop a comment, or leave an ask if you enjoyed!! I worked really, really hard on this, and it would mean the absolute world to me that, if y’all enjoyed it, you told me why. if you hated it, tell me why. if i made you cry or scream or fall in love or fierce fiercely full of disappointed rage, tell me why!! i won’t bite (unless you ask)!

hopefully the next adventure gets even better. thanks for reading!

[navstuffs]

Hello, first of all, YOUR WRITING IS GOD’S WORK, second of all, I need a second part of “I know it’s thick”, bc that took me out 💀 It was fucking fantastic. And last but definitely not least, you seem very sweet, and like an amazing person, keep up the good work 🥰💕👏✨

"I know it is thick." - Part 2

Pairing: Boss!Carlos Oliveira x GN!Reader

Summary: It is thick, and now you know it.

Warnings tags: SMUT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE, blowjob (m receiving), public sex, under-the-desk blowjob while jill is in the room, porn with feelings (sorta), carlos always brazilian in my fics (foda-se capcom ESSE HOMI É DO BRASIL), translations at the bottom

Author's Notes: ANON YOU ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!! the idea came to me while reading your ask and i was like WHY NOT? again, bear with me since smut is still a constant work in progress. also thank you so much for your kind words and requesting with me, i hope i deliver! <;3 @cerezzzita aqui miga 💖

part 1 | my carlos's masterlist

You would never have guessed you would end up like this. You see, after sending that text message, you thought you would have been fired or sued for sexual harassment within Carlos's rights.

Not that by late Friday night, you would be doing extra work. And by that, it means your legs spread apart, holding yourself back in the cabinets of the stockroom as your boss Carlos pounds into you, his big hands holding your hips with such strength it would probably hurt tomorrow. Not that you cared: since this whole thing started three weeks ago, you have discovered you had muscles that ached that you didn't even know existed.

As Carlos's ball hit against your ass, the slapping sound sounding pornographic to your ears enough to drive you crazy, you hold onto the cold shelves, your legs barely keeping you steady. Every thrust he gives inside you is more powerful than the other, seeming to reach deeper into you. It had to be that thick cock, you thank mentally. 

"Are you close?" Carlos wonders, and you imagine his bare ass looks delicious, his social pants on the floor.

You moan a pathetic yes and beg Carlos to touch you, and his hands find you, jerking in that delicious way only he could do it. It is unfair how well Carlos knew your body, although this only started a couple of weeks ago.

Three weeks since you stayed late and found out it was really that thick and you could barely fit in your mouth. Three weeks since this man gave you the best orgasm of your life. Three weeks doing extra work time.

With the way he is rubbing you, you don't take long to cum, biting your lips and closing your eyes to hold back a moan. Carlos gives you two final thrusts before you hear him muttering a curse in portuguese as he cums deep inside your walls. You stay silent for a moment, just the sound of your breaths before Carlos pulls out of you, his semen slowly dropping out of you.

You take a second to straighten yourself, your back hurting (it seems you are taking another ibuprofen tomorrow), when you feel Carlos pass a cloth between your legs, cleaning you gently.

"Oh, mhm, thanks?" You say unsure, and he smiles, giving you his handkerchief, with his initials sewn on it.

Carlos stares at you, wanting to say something. You are a little worried about it might be: yes, what you are doing is wrong, and you both know it. You are worried Carlos might want to end this sooner than later; you know he will have to. Or maybe he will finally invite you out? Maybe, you will end up fucking Carlos in a proper bed, not on top or under his desk.

"I will see you later, then." Carlos doesn't wait for your answer, and you ignore the pain in your chest, his handkerchief just the memory he left on you (along, well, with his cum). Again, this would have to end someday, right? It was just sex.

Two days later, you are under Carlos's desk a little after everyone leaves. You see, you went in there to end it all before Carlos could but, somehow, ended up with you on top of his desk, his head on the middle of your thighs. The things Carlos could do with his tongue were skills out of this world, and suddenly you can't remember what you wanted to do here.

You just didn't want him to stop.

So now, you are just repaying for the multiple orgasms from earlier, you tell yourself as his thick cock hits the back of your throat. It had nothing to do with the fact that you loved sucking him, the sight of his strong and hairy tights, hearing Carlos beg for your name, and how this powerful man seemed to melt in your arms because of you.

There is a sudden knock on Carlos's door, and you both seem to freeze. You look up, and Carlos gives you an urgent look, his eyes pleading for you to stay shut. "Please don't say come in," you beg mentally, but the door opens before Carlos can say anything, just with enough time to pull out of your mouth.

"Oh, I am so glad you are still here." Carlos's partner and your other boss, Jill Valentine sounds pissed. Carlos immediately pushes the chair into you, completely hiding your body, causing his dick to get close to your lips.

Jill vents about the challenging project the whole team has been working on, and for your relief, she doesn't pay enough attention to Carlos. Carlos gently tries to keep your head away from his cock, but you don't move. When he looks down in panic, you would have laughed if you could because Carlos knew exactly what was going through your mind.

When you test by licking the tip of his cock Carlos has to hold himself back against the chair, Jill still doesn't seem to notice. You try again, this time swirling your tongue around it, and Carlos curses.

"Puta merda."

"Did you say something?" Jill wonders, and you hold back a laugh.

"Puta merda this project huh, Jill?"

Jill continues her rant as your head goes down into Carlos's cock, slowly and torturous. Your boss has to hold himself into the table, his knuckles turning white as a low whimper dies down in his throat. His hands look for your head, you don't know if to pull you away or push you more down, but you don't stop.

"....and I am telling you, if this doesn't get solved by the end of the week, I swear I will cancel this whole deal!"

"Puta que pariu!"

"Well, I am glad you agree with me!" Jill exclaims, slamming the table. She finally looks at Carlos, who is sweaty, his chest rising up and down as he bites his lips. 

"Carlos, are you okay? You look feverish."

"I-I am fine, Jill. All good. Just sh-sharing your frustrations, that is it."

Jill thinks she heard a strange, slurping noise after Carlos says that, but the sound stops. Her phone rings before she can ask what it is, and she groans, frustrated.

"You know, we shouldn't work this late. Life isn't just work, you know?" Jill expresses, before leaving his office, waving goodbye.

You can hear the door closing, and Carlos roughly pulls out of your mouth. You gulp, anxious, wondering if you finally took too far and Carlos will end it all, when your boss's face appears under the table to stare at you, full of desire.

"You want to play like that? Fine. Let's see how long it takes for you to gag on my cock." Carlos' voice is low and threatening, bringing chills all over your body, especially your heat.

"Challenge accepted, boss."

Puta merda = Holy shit

Puta que pariu = Holyfucking shit

[7ndipity]

Finding Out Their Crush Is Dating Someone

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would react to finding out that their crush is in a relationship/seeing them with their partner

Warnings: angst, swearing,

A/N: thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: He would try his best to carry on with your friendship as if nothing was amiss, but he wouldn’t be able to hide his distaste for your partner, avoiding being around them as much as possible, which unfortunately means avoiding you at times as well. The growing tension between you would likely result in you either drifting apart for a while, or him eventually confessing after you call him out on it, tho what the outcome of that would be is unclear.

Yoongi: He wouldn’t dare show it, not even to friends who might know about his feelings towards you, but he’s devastated. This is the exact thing he was afraid would happen, bc like you’re amazing, of course you would find somebody. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to watch it happen. He would try to continue your friendship as normal, but there’s an invisible wall that’s been built between the two of you now that you don’t understand.

Hobi: You know the “This is fine, I’m okay with the events unfolding around me.” meme? That’s Hobi rn. Honestly tho, he would try his hardest to act as though it doesn’t bother him, bc at least you’re happy, but he lowkey feels like his heart’s getting wrung out every time he sees you with your partner. He might consider pulling away for a bit, but he loves you too much to actually do so, so he just tries to ride it out and hope his feelings will calm over time…

Namjoon: oooh boy, you’re now the new fan-favorite break-up track on his next album. No but fr, he would be soo angsty and sulky about the situation, avoiding you for days/weeks after finding out. He knows it’s not fair to just shut you out without any real explanation, but he’s afraid of how sharing his feelings would fuck up your friendship even more. It would end up spiraling into a fight when you confront him about his weird behavior and he finally spills the truth.(I want to believe that y’all would work it out in the end but🤷) 

Jimin: I feel like in his mind, he wants to handle it maturely and pretend nothing’s wrong, but in reality, he completely ices you both out. It’s his knee-jerk response whenever he’s hurt, and so he just leaves it to you to try and figure out why he’s suddenly so upset with you. He might even go back to normal just as suddenly bc he misses you, and just pretends like he wasn’t avoiding you, leaving you even more lost about what the fuck is going on.

Taehyung: Oooh this boy, he would be soo fucking dramatic, sulking and acting as if you’ve dumped him, even tho you never actually went out or talked about his feelings in the first place. He’d blame your partner for “stealing you away”, even tho they likely don’t have a clue about his feelings for you either. If you confront him and ask him what’s up, he’ll likely spill the whole thing immediately, but he won’t dare bring it up himself out of fear of rejection and ruining your friendship.

Jungkook: You’re seeing someone?! Behind his back?! Even though he never actually told you that he had feelings for you, so you have no clue what the fuck is going on?! Fr tho, he would be soo angsty, moping and avoiding you for days, ignoring your calls and texts. This would only last for a few days tho before his feelings start to eat him alive and he’s showing up at your place and pouring his heart out to you. He doesn’t care if it’s too late or you reject him, he just needs you to know.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz