#im going into this half blind but im doing it anyways
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altruistic-meme · 2 years ago
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gotta do everything by myself around here 😔
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sforzesco · 29 days ago
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decimus wanted to wind cassius up a bit just to see how he would snap
uhhh. what else. you know!! caesar was collecting (and discarding) a new generation of romans, operating a new kind of roman imperium. political manipulation. "good" governance. conspiracies are forming in reply.
the collage art is all public domain/open access stuff from the met collections!
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lunarharp · 6 months ago
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revamped looong mermaid orufrey au :')
#witch hat tag#orufrey#partial nudity /#about half of it is new the other half is redrawn from last year. Why would you rescribble some scribbles. Well it was bad.#i always underestimate how much i've improved in a year last may was questionable. also it's not even may any more so why mermaids now.#sorry if you remember this but at least half is new story. i'll just paste more explanation from twt....#first qifrey was cursed by EVIL WITCH eye taken and thrown into the sea#memory-less. then kind little witch boy oru found him on the beach & they became friends#they drifted apart after falling for each other bc qif knew he could never be with him.#oru walked on the beach every day for years hoping to see him again until so desperate he goes into the sea (on a ship?) & is dying#qifrey saved him with a kiss. they got closer &oru swore to find a way to save him that wasnt dangerous but qif knew hed need a dark witch.#(that witch was probably the one who cursed him..just toying with him...) in with the spell oru DOES forget him for real#even tho he needs to give Kiss Of True Love before qif turns totally blind for qif to stay human for good or become seafoam. but oru someho#the oldest magic is love..the ability to break through the curses of loneliness and despair. qif already did that for him#so oru was able to do it back later. he fell in love with him again..but also realised it was obviously him....well anyway......#originally the 'finding oru stranded like that guy in the little mermaid' was a separate au but it still makes sense to combine them#i dont want them to have not met in childhood...thats the orufrey thing....#im going to work on Proper drawings next instead of silly comics as usual....
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rose-lalondde · 10 months ago
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pro tip: if you think you have adhd then don't start a master's program before you even get a diagnosis (also you need a stronger prescription, you have astigmatism, and reading glasses aren't gonna cut it)
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chisatowo · 2 years ago
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I am BORED someone give me enrichment NOW
#rat rambles#I can only replay cotl so many times (finished my fourth playthrough yesterday) any my sibling still has the switch#like I technically also got incription a while back but Im still debating between if I wanna try streaming ut or not#mainly idk if its the sort of game that my laptop would scream at or not and I wanna go in as blind as possible#I considered streaming cotl but dear god does my laptop hate running it even without also streaming#thank god they added the auto cooking and fishing features fucking life savers#I already have over 100 hours in the game for some reference of how much Ive been playing it#I might have to try for the rest of the damageless boss achievements Im missing since theyre all I need for all achievements#I got damageless leshy on my first try tho so thats fun#Im thinking I might have to go for golden fleece strats + wraiths to get kalamar at least since Im too impatent to dodge good#my strat across all viddy games is to kill the guy before they kill me and its gotten me this far so xhdjgdkdy#rly I actually need the half a second kill strats for heket because dear god do I hate fighting her#not cause of her herself but because you have to fight two of my number 2 most hated mini boss#number one being that stupid bat guy also from anura cause I fucking HATE the flies#I used to hate barbados a lot more but theyre easy to read I was just stupid#anyways this is why I havent been posting much lol Ive been hyperfixating on this game hard and am embarrassed abt it dhdjgdjdh#not in like a. fandonfication way to be clear Im not going that low just as a video game#and I cant help but feel guilty abt it unfortunately 😔#Im not even being cringe but Im still not free hdkdhdmhfj
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29121996 · 3 months ago
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plateauofmemories · 5 months ago
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Me: *sees something annoying about Shuro dunmeshi* ...
My brain: ...Shuro def-
Me: Absolutely Not
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bone-eaters-well · 9 months ago
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vent in tags
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guinevereslancelot · 9 months ago
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this eye care routine is a lot
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capaldiera · 10 months ago
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it's soooooo embarrassing that my mum knows i like twelveclara. and she was in the room for last christmas which is embarrassingly close to being explicitly romantic. keep that shit more unsaid please
#and also the magician's apprentice party scene which is super fun and the first time i watched it and she was there i was just openly enjoyi#ng it. well now i want to die. esp bc she probably thinks the pretty woman thing for clara. well no i equally care abt missy.#me.txt#im not used to this shit usually what happens is i care about gay pairings and either it doesnt look that gay or mum will just not react#to it bc she is homophobic and would rather not think about that#or maybe more likely knows i dont want to hear what she has to say. i do appreciate that#wait actually i think half the problem is she probably thinks i have a crush on twelve 💀💀💀😟😟😭😭#well i do but she doesnt need to know that. prolly thinks he's not a dyke n all#also i am just currently thinking that some moments are a little Too open for my tastes.#Also i was talking to mum once about twelve's possible face blindness (and she'd seen the when do i not see you scene and when he couldnt#tell clara was like 80 or whatever#and she was like oh in the kdramas i watch they love to have the guy be faceblind but he can only recognise the girl. mum im trying to talk#about my favourite doctor who and also fucked up hetbait. not your vaguely hallmarkish romances#okay they are not like hallmark they are more creative and also better. she just says she likes them bc they're like chaste. and she started#watching them instead of hallmark shows#anyway. time to go home and watch before the flood and under the lake and she'll probably be there#the problem is that mum likes romances that are nice. and she probably thinks twelveclara is kind of nice or maybe that i think it is#mostly its slay and fucked#it should feel a little bit like being queerbaited (kind of bad but so good and like you may be insane but also you're deeply correct)
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gyuswhore · 4 months ago
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Grease (the tragedy)
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“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”
jeon wonwoo x reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!
synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.
[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe
and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh
and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!
masterlist
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 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???
Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 
It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 
[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine
Today 7:20 PM
[You]: im here?
The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.
So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 
Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 
The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 
You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 
“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”
“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”
He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!
It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 
“O–oh, I see.”
The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 
Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 
“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”
“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”
Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 
The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 
“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”
“Her husband.”
“I see.”
Silence. 
“How do you know her husband?”
He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 
“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”
“Workshop?”
He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.”
It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 
One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 
“What kind of cars do you work on?”
“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”
“Have I heard of it?”
“The cars?”
“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”
“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”
You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.
“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”
“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”
“Family business?”
“Uh–sort of.” 
“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”
“Is there a problem?”
Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 
“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 
“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.
“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”
There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 
“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 
“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 
Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 
“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”
Did he…snort?
“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 
“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 
“Nothing.”
That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 
If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 
“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”
Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”
“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”
“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”
Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 
“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”
“For laughing?”
“And for being obscenely late.”
“And?”
“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”
“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 
Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”
“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”
The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”
“More like I don’t care to be personable.”
“That can’t be good for business.”
“The cars speak for themselves.”
He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 
“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 
“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”
The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”
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“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 
There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 
Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”
The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 
“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”
“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”
“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”
Lies, it was entirely her fault. 
Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.
“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"
“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”
“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”
“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”
“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”
“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”
Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 
That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 
“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”
How fitting. 
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“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 
You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 
Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”
“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 
“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”
What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 
You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 
The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 
The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 
Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 
“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 
To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.
“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 
“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 
No, just a failed love interest.
“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”
“Do you need help with your car?”
“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”
With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 
By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 
At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  
“Am I late for something again?” 
Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 
“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.
“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”
“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”
He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.
Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 
A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 
You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”
“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 
Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”
“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 
“So you can fix it?” 
“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”
Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”
“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”
It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”
“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 
“Because that’s gonna cost…?”
“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 
“But—” That’s it?
“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 
“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 
The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 
Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 
Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 
“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”
Wonwoo stares pointedly. 
You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”
He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”
“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 
Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”
“What does it do?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Touché.” 
Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”
Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirks, “Touché.” 
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You questioned if this was a mistake. 
Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.
The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 
But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 
Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 
Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 
Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…
The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 
“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”
“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”
“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”
He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.
He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”
You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 
Goodness, what’s gotten into you.
Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 
“Shall we go to the office then?” 
Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 
“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”
“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”
It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.
“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 
Cute. 
There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 
You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”
“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”
“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 
He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”
You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”
He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 
As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”
“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”
“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 
“And if you charge me double?”
“Might not charge you at all.”
“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 
“Might.”
“And what’re the conditions for that?” 
He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”
You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”
He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”
“Hm?”
“Can I? Let you know?” 
It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 
“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 
You hesitate. “I think so too.”
“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 
“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”
He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”
“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”
“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 
“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 
You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 
Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 
“Are you doing anything else today?” 
“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”
He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”
You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.
This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.
He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 
Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”
He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”
“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.
“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”
If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?
“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”
You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 
Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 
When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 
“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”
Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 
That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 
“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”
He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 
There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”
“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”
You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 
“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 
“Fuck, yes you can.” 
With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”
You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 
Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 
You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 
Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 
“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”
He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 
You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 
The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 
You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 
“There,” he pants. “Almost.”
You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 
“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”
And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 
The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 
“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 
He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”
You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”
And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 
And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 
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86espresso · 1 month ago
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secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought ✯ jh86
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sum: “I really like you.” *looks around* “are you sure-”
// jack x med student
warnings: 18+, oral (f & m receiving), mentions of familial neglect, cursing, kissing, stress, anxiety, doubt, pet tigers, jack thinking too hard, reader is insecure don’t know what for 💔, overuse of commas because im insane, happy ending, a lil too sappy (i say this with emphasis), i mean it there’s a whole lotta CHEESE, mostly fluff, very emotional and hearty pls im sorry im a lover. afab!reader w/ she/her pronouns :)
w/c; 7.6k
a/n: hey so yeah. wtf. the word count?? i had so much fun writing this. half scared that its boring. i love simp / munch jack. ps: as queen as y/n is, i gave reader a nickname, sorry. (a very … unique nickname. i myself am puzzled as to how my brain works) enjoy. or at least try to. under the cut !
THE library was unsurprisingly almost empty considering the fact that no sane person would want to step outside in this rainstorm, so you were content in studying organic chemistry in the very back, alone with your thoughts, your textbooks, folklore by Taylor Swift, and now a guy. Who decided that he will break the silence in the almost empty library.
You were in your world, as always, not really connecting or associating with things around you but the ruckus of the someone knocking over an umbrella stand and profusely apologizing to apparently no one made you lift your head up. You smile slightly before going back to your work, barely registering your surroundings. 
Sure, Jack was entirely focused on his friends, studies, and hockey back in high school, but he was an expert at faces and names and could jot down absolutely anyone that he knows he’s seen before. He knew exactly who the girl with dark circles and way-too-oversized hoodie in the back was. 
At least five minutes later, Jack started hovering near your spot, which was the romance aisle. You sneak a glance at him and take note of his athletic shorts and New York Giants hoodie and quickly denote that this man was definitely not the romance novel type (or maybe book type at all). After flipping mindlessly through another book he lets out a soft “fuck it” before turning to face you completely. 
You can’t help but crack a smile at his jump when he saw that you had already been staring at him with wide, voidfull eyes. 
A pause. You staring at him. Him staring at you. He cracks a dopey smile, blinding you with his paper white teeth, and pulls up a chair in front of you. 
“What’s up, Dee?” He asks holding his hand up for a dap. Bewildered at how this complete stranger knows your nickname amongst close friends (from when you gracefully told people that ‘the bags under your eyes are Dior’), you dap him back anyway and blurt, “I have never seen you before.”
“You went to my high school. We worked in a project in like, AP World I think? I dunno. But I remember you saved my grade that whole year.”
Your mind remains blank. You saved a lot of people’s grades. 
“My only high school memories are countless APs, pain, suffering, studying and depression.” 
Most people would blanch at your dreamy straightforwardness, but Jack just grinned again. 
“Yeah, I remember you were always tired but also really funny. And tired. Deja Vu, man, watching you sit here, laser focused on your books. I was on the hockey team, if that helps.”
I furrow my brows, thinking hard. 
“I do remember that our hockey guys were really good. They would announce their names like every day on the speakers because they won all the time.” 
Jack groans at the memory. He was well known but it was just uncomfortable having your last names called out where the whole school could hear. 
You laugh at his reaction. “They would call the same names over and over. I don’t know if it was you who used to hide your face every time they did it but yeah.”
Jack perked up. “Yeah that was me.” 
You take a moment to admire his boyish facial features and athletic build. He’s pretty. 
‘Don’t even think about it’ pretty. 
“Dang. You were like a superstar. Sorry I don’t remember much. I’m like, walking jet lag.” 
He laughs a typical frat boy laugh (if that makes sense) and you like it. You want to hear it again. 
“So, what are you doing out here? Never pegged you for a big city girl.” 
“I go to college here.”
“Damn, we should’ve met sooner. My name is Jack, by the way.” 
“My friends call me Dee, but I guess you knew that.”
You were left pondering as to why a hockey player from high school was even anticipating meeting you; people only approached you for notes and the occasional party invitation back then.
“So, uh- what about you? Make it big in the league thingy yet?” 
He breaths a laugh. “You could say that.”
“Who do you play for?” 
“New Jersey.”
“Prudential, isn’t it? That’s close by my apartment.” I say in thought. 
Jack grins. “Really? We might bump into each other often, then.” 
He looks genuinely excited. 
Why. 
What’s going on. 
You chat for a few more minutes but it’s mostly you saying out of pocket things and Jack laughing instead of side-eyeing you and walking away. You were surprised at his effortless kindness. 
“Phone.”
“Hm?”
“Or Snap? Whatever you feel like is best,” he says, pulling out his phone. It takes a second to register that he’s implying that you exchange contact information. 
“Don’t really use Snapchat. I kinda have too much on my plate right now.” You hand over your phone. 
“You always overwork yourself, you should be at the club. You’ll die on the inside.” 
“Nothing I can’t handle, I hope.”
You just need to push through and never ever have fun.
He checks the time and sighs. 
“I was just here to return a book but I gotta head back. Flight for a roadie takes off in a couple hours. I’ll be back in, like, four days? I hope to see you around then?” 
You match his soft smile and nod, whatever roadie means but okay. It was actually nice, wasting some valuable study time for a potential friend. He’s cool. 
“Yeah. See you.” You offer and huff a laugh as he reaches out to dap you up again. 
That night, after yet another long and winding day with the only highlight being meeting someone who was apparently a high school acquaintance, you decide to look him up. Surprised at the absolute famethat this man had loaded, your lips parting at every detail, you click on his instagram and officially unhinge your jaw. 
500k followers? 
You’re never on insta but that can’t be good. 
The shock of how you basically were bonding with someone who definitely downplayed how famous he was didn’t wear off a week later; he texted you quite often and you tried to text back without seeming dry. 
It was nearly a week later when he offered to meet up again. 
-> two questions
babies come from the baby store.
-> wtf 
sorry. ask away !
-> 1. are you at the library rn
do you still like the caramel frappe from dunkin
yes. and yes. what the hell are you doing. 
-> something nice. see u soon angel. 
angel is wild when I look like I snuck on this earth but thanks for that anyways. you’re very kind :))
-> kind enough to tell you to that you’re really pretty :))
*reacted with heart emoji*
You check your forehead temperature to make sure you hadn’t just imagined the whole conversation. 
It wasn’t long before Jack was strutting into the library with two dunkin’ shakes in his hands accompanied by his gorgeous smile when he spotted you in the back, once again. 
“You’re wearing glasses today.” He says when you look up at his outstretched hand. You reach forward with a grateful smile, and deja vu hits you hard. The same exact scene playing out in high school when he had asked everyone in some group project their favorite drinks and treated them when they all got an A. 
“I remember you,” you say as he flopped on the bean bag next to you with his own drink. 
“Yeah? I knew you would. You’re too smart.” He says, again dazzling you with his perfect smile as he lifts two fingers to tap your temple softly to emphasize his point. It’s a challenge to tear your eyes away from his baby blues. 
“Your eyes are so blue. It’s distracting.” 
Jack’s eyes widen at your unintentional rebuttal at his subtle flirting, and he smirks. He knew that you weren’t aware that you were being flirted with the past week; what you lacked in emotional and social intelligence was shadowed by your sharpness in academics. 
“Hey, you didn’t tell me you were a really big deal around here? Everyone knows you and you have like a million followers.”
“Stalking me?” 
“Educating myself.”
Jack laughs and throws as arm around you to peer over your shoulder. 
“Well, I don’t just go around telling people how good I am. So, whatcha doing?” 
The contact makes you freeze up and once again the surreality of a man wanting to spend time with you disorients you a little bit.
“Watching porn.” 
Jack laughs again and earns a stern look from the clerk down the aisle. 
“I’m studying anatomy.”
“Yeah, didn’t suspect any less than med school for your smartass.” 
You turn to him to talk back but his face was inches away from you and that sets off alarm bells throughout your body. You’ve had your fair share of guys and girls but there was not a single string attached and the short flings were easy to forget. 
But having someone that pretty, that close to you, not showing exactly what intentions he had? That caused your anxiety to spike. Positively. 
“Your face is really close.” You simply state, pushing your large frames higher up your nose. 
“And yours is really red.” 
You immediately press your hands against your cheeks and groan at what you picture your face looks like. Jack just giggles again and pulls your hands away. 
“It’s cute.” 
His hands are still on your wrists. 
“It really isn’t, but thank you. You’re very kind.”
There’s a beat of silence where you can see the gears in his head turning. 
“Do you like aquariums?”
You surprise yourself and Jack when you pull him into a hug as a greeting outside the aquarium.
The feel of your chests touching with little fabric in between set Jack’s heart off racing and the way your curves dipped at your hips had him pulling at his collar. 
But most of all, when he pulled back from the hug, he noticed you were wearing shorts that had your legs all out for him to ogle over. 
“You hidin’ all that?” He scans your figure, noting the dark, low cut, full sleeve top. 
“What? All this?” You say as you push your tits together. “There’s not much to hide.”
Jack’s throat runs dry. Unfortunately for him, he’s still a guy and tits still make him drool. And the fact that you had no idea you were keeping him on his toes 
“Be for real.” He rolls his eyes. “How’d your day go?” 
“Nice, actually. I just took Nala for a walk and-“ you cut yourself off. 
“I didn’t know you had a pet? Can I see her? I love anim-“
“She’s a tiger.” 
You give him more and more reasons everyday as to why him hanging out with you was unethical and strange but he seemed to keep on staying. Studying you as if intrigued by your strangeness. 
“You- have a pet..tiger?” 
Yeah. I’ve done it.
“I- yeah.” 
It seems like all Jack ever does is grin because he’s doing it again and flinging an arm around your shoulder as he starts to walk with you. 
“Oh, Dee. There’s just so much to learn and love about you.” 
It takes you a second to react. 
“That may be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“You serious?” 
“Yeah. Well, cause I was ugly growing up, and people always thought I was strange. It’s hard to imagine that people are genuinely interested in any sort of friendship with me.” 
Jacks fingertips on your bare collarbone, his cologne and aftershave, his figure pressed against your side; all of it was overtaking your senses.  
“Baby, why do you think I walked up to you that day in the first place? You may not remember much but I do. You were so kind and honest. And so intriguing. And hardworking. And pretty. I think your dark circles are hot.” 
You huff out a laugh and ignore the flutter in your chest at ‘baby’. 
Jack looks down at you with a gaze that he can’t pinpoint. You’re just very, very endearing to him. He needs to show you all kinds of fun so you laugh like that again. 
“You smell nice.” You say and hesitate before loosening yourself against him more. He hums at the increased contact and at your compliment, smiling against your hair. 
“Thank you.” 
To say you had the absolute time of your life at the aquarium was an understatement. Jack got to see a side of you that loved fun, that was carefree, and didn’t have that goddamn crease in your eyebrows. You were the one pulling him around, telling him you wanted to be a marine biologist as a kid and that you recognize most of the species. Jack made sure to snap a few pictures of you when you weren’t looking, the lightning shaped twinkle in your eyes a memory he wanted to keep forever. 
Later that day, Jack drove you back to your apartment, mentally noting that you were about a fifteen minute drive from his place. 
“Nala?” You coo out softly as you push open the door and drag Jack inside, not giving him the chance to protest. Jack looks around at your apartment. It’s small and messy, but organized in some places. He jumps and lets out a brief scream when a fucking tiger is bounding towards you at full speed and knocking you over with a hug. You laugh as your beloved Nala starts licking up your face and you both roll on the floor. 
Jack’s breathing calms a little as he remembers who owns the tiger. 
“I’ll put her away for now.” You say, reading Jack’s skepticism. He sighed in relief. 
“Oh good. Because as much as you reassured me and as man as I am, she’s still a tiger.” You giggle at his words and guide Nala towards her room. 
The sound makes Jack smile stupidly. His heart stutters and he wants to put your little laugh on replay. He can’t believe that a girl who stated random medical facts at any time, who lost sleep because ‘she just forgot that it’s important’, who barely remembered him from a while ago even though he remembered everything, who waves at planes as they fly overhead, who didn’t know shit about the sport he played, had him wrapped tightly around her finger. 
He takes a moment to observe your apartment. The stacks of medical related books that he doesn’t want to and never will understand, the old record player sitting in the corner of the kitchen, a huge jar of nutella on the coffee table, a questionable fluffy purple blanket on your sofa. Just little things that made you all the more real to him. 
And he still wants to know more. He wants to know your sleep schedule so he knows that you’re getting enough sleep and when to text or call, he wants to know what you dream of, he wants to know your passions besides studying, he wants to know what made you become so numb and detached, how you still managed to have a twinkle in your eye when you experienced emotion. 
But, as he leans to the counter for support at his racing mind and as you enter the room, still clad in your godforsaken low cut top and curve-hugging shorts, he most of all wants to know what you are like, what your lips would feel like molded against his, how you’d moan or whimper at his touch. He’s still leaning against the counter as he recalls when you unabashedly pushed your tits together just hours ago. 
“You alright?” You ask, but you yourself seemed to have distressed eyebrow lines. 
“Uh? Oh yeah. I was just.” He gestures around your apartment. “Observing.” 
You nod, still lost in thought. 
“Are you okay?” He asks, not liking the stress in your body language. 
“Yeah. It’s just, I have two projects due next week and I’ve been studying for something else so I completely forgot about them.” You frown, feeling tears pool in your eyes. You can’t cry in front of Jack. If everything else didn’t make him abandon you, then this would. 
“Woah. Hey, hey.” Jack is by your side immediately. He feels guilty for thinking of you sinfully while you were in distress but he really couldn’t help it. You blink back the tears and shrug it off. 
“It gets kind of a lot sometimes, y’know?” Jack follows you to the couch and sits next to you, immediately taking your hands in his and pulling your legs onto his lap. You gave up on keeping your cool when he does that and give him a bewildered expression. Being taken care of is so strange. 
“And? Go on, baby.” He smiles softly and encouragingly, dropping one of your hands to hold your chin for a moment before grabbing your hand again. 
You blink. 
“Well, It’s probably not as much as I’m stressing it out to be. I’m about to abuse substances.” 
“Now don’t do that. There’s lots of ways to destress yourself.” Jack’s hand wanders again, resting on your bare knee. His movements are soft and gentle, but they still cause a foreign spark through your body. You dryly cough before registering his words and looking at Jack’s hand that had inched higher by the slightest. 
“Is this flirting?” Rushed out of your mouth and Jack chuckles, a normal sound but an octave lower. 
“Sure is, baby. You’re learning fast.” He’s staring your eyes down, and all of a sudden he’s consuming your senses again. His cologne is still there, his insane blues are glued to yours, his deep breathing is signifying his increasing heart rate. His hand inches higher as he moves closer. 
“Why don’t I just,” shrug, “eat you out? ‘S a better high than drugs-” His phone buzzes in his pocket. 
Jack huffs and pulls away, leaving your insides churning at the his lingering touch and words??? The implication alone, the images conjuring in your head were nothing short of filthy. 
He scowls as he takes the call, muttering something about how it’s his agent and he’ll get in trouble if he doesn’t answer. His responses are curt and his expression neutral, but his hand is gripping your thigh with intensity. As he hangs up the call and tosses his phone aside, his hand is almost at your inner thigh and he maneuvers himself to be directly on his knees on the floor in front of you. 
The sudden movement and his face looking up at yours between your slightly parted legs has your pussy throbbing. It’s been weeks since you were.. in this particular position with someone and god did it feel nice that it was the finest man in world to unpause your sex life. 
He leans up to be face level with you. “Do you trust me, baby?” You never noticed how sultry his natural voice was. 
His eyes search yours for any kind of discomfort as his hand reaches forward to cup your cheek. You nod in conformation as he moves closer. 
Your breath hitches as he presses his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth. It confuses you slightly as to why he didn’t just kiss you but both of his hands on your waistband distracts you. 
“Can I take these off?” He questions and you nod once again, not trusting your voice. 
He’s doing everything in slow motion and you think it alludes to your sensitivity earlier, but anticipation and his hands cloud everything in your mind. 
What kind of guy just? offers to eat you out? to help you destress? 
Your shorts are discarded and the exposure doesn’t bother you. Sure your heart would be thudding either way, but Jack made you feel different. No anxiety in the sense that he would judge you or harm you or hurt your feelings.
“Hm, these are cute.” Jack’s thumb fingers over the lining of your underwear. 
You feel yourself flush. 
“Thanks.” Is your quiet response. 
“Relax, baby. This is for you to unwind, not to get nervous. Focus on how you’re feeling,”   Jack instructs as his finger ghosted over your clothed cunt. Your teeth nibble on your bottom lip as you push your hips closer to his hand. 
He smirks at your eagerness and gives in, entirely pushing his thumb against your clit through your panties. 
His thumb moves slowly but firmly back and forth as he gauges your reaction. Finding the right spots where your stomach clenches or your eyebrows knit together. 
“More.” You muster as you open your eyes to look down at Jack who was already moving to take your damp panties off. Once again, slowly. He groans as he sees you glistening for him and starts kissing up your thigh. 
“You have a pretty face.” 
Jack grins up at your compliment while peppering feather light kisses on your inner thighs. 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The anticipation pools in your lower stomach as Jack breaks eye contact with you to admire your delicacy in front of him. He uses the same thumb to rub through your folds and reach higher to circle your clit. The stimulation has you moaning softly and the sound has Jack’s cock twitching in his shorts. 
“I- hurry.” You huff in slight annoyance, wanting more besides the slow circles. Jack smirks against your thigh and removes his thumb so he could move forward lick a stripe through your folds. 
Your knuckles get white gripping the pillow,  itching to hold his hair instead as his eyes flicker between yours and your pussy. Jack notices your hand on the pillow and guide it to his hair while sucking and licking your cunt. He parts away for a second to catch his breath before making slow and languid motions with his tongue on your clit. 
You grip his hair, hard. Jack grunts against you and loses a shred of control as he pulls your legs apart further to dive further in. You let out a startled breath at the sudden movement and pull on his hair more as he shakes his head deeper while still staring up at you. 
“Jack..” you breathe out, but it comes out as more of a whimper that makes him hum against you and a spark run through his body. He pulls away and inserts his middle and ring finger through your slick and pumps shortly before curling his fingers. You heave a breath and moan at the feeling while Jack stares up at you in awe. 
“You’re everything.” He says more to himself than you, as he watches you writhe and whimper at his fingers while holding the eye contact. He connects his lips with your clit again and suctions in a way that has your back arching and your moans getting louder and more high pitched with each type of attention Jack gives to your pussy. 
He switched his fingers and mouth and rubs your clit as he laps up your arousal as he feels you getting close. He takes that moment to switch back and locks eyes with you as his dark pink, wet lips attach to your clit again, softly sucking you closer to your tipping point.
“Oh, f-fuck I’m-“  
Your eyebrows knit and your eyes roll back at the sensations of his mouth and tongue and fingers and gaze. 
You spasm around his fingers and moan louder while Jack’s fingers guide you through your release. He licks up whatever he can before sitting and wiping his face with the back of his hand as you stare at him with hooded and tired eyes. 
“Feel better?” He has the nerve to ask as he runs a wet wipe up and between your legs. 
When did he even get that?
Your leg twitches in sensitivity after he’s finished. 
“Mm better.” Was all you could muster. All you wanted was to sleep and dream for days. 
Jack laughs softly at your state and checks the time. 
“I’ll need to head out soon. Team dinner.” He says as he fits another pair of underwear on you. You feel a pang in your chest and anxiety creeps up your spine, but Jack immediately shuts your thoughts down. 
“Hey, this doesn’t mean I’ll abandon you or anything. I’m goin’ cause I have to and I would take you but you look like you could use a nap. We can hang tomorrow?” He’s so soft and caring with you, cupping your cheek and smoothing his thumb over it. 
“Yeah okay.” You say and watch as he gets up, not before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
“I won’t go anywhere, baby.” 
After the team dinner, when Jack got home and shut the door to his apartment, the first thing he did was call his older brother. Quinn was just the slightest, itty-bittiest bit more fortunate with girls, so Jack naturally went to him for tips here and there. 
A few minutes into the call, they exchanged formalities and talked about each others’ seasons before Quinn cut to the chase. 
“So? Is it a girl?”
Jack blanched. 
“I- well yes, but it’s different this time. Swear.”
“You say that every-time. But it does sound like it might be different.”
“Do you remember Dee from high school?”
“I don’t remember anything from high school.” Is it really that common to forget four years of your life?
“Yeah well. I met her again a few weeks ago. She was the one who used to take all the APs and she graduated early? She was like always tired and kinda funny. And she’s pretty. Like the natural kind of pretty. You’d look at her and want to give up the world for her kind of pretty. I don’t know.” Quinn listened quietly, detecting the hint of fear in Jack’s voice. 
“I might be, like obsessed with her. I think she knows.”
“Wait, wait, wait. She knows? That you like her? And you’re not together yet?” Jack didn’t deny it when he said that he liked her. 
“I-yes? I think so. She might be into me too and we did a thing earlier today and she flirts with me without even thinking about it? That’s gotta mean something right?”
“You did things with her?!She flirts with you?! Do something. But take it slow. She probably still wonders why you even give her the time of day. She likes you but she doesn’t know it yet.” Hearing his older brother say it untightened his chest. 
“I was going to kiss her but I really wanted to things slow with her. She’s been through a bit and, I don’t know, I want to treat her special.” He’s glad that he has a person he can say the cringiest shit to. If it was anyone else on the other line, he would get toasted for the rest of his life. Jack wore his heart on his sleeve and was smart at reading people and their emotions. But sometimes he was just clueless on what to do with that knowledge. 
We can hang tomorrow. 
Who the fuck says that after going down on someone. 
Jack didn’t text you that night.
Or the next morning. 
You started panicking slightly when you come home from classes. 
That had to have been the last straw for him. 
He’s a fucking superstar, he lives in the New York City area, where all the pretty models and blue eyed blondes live. Why the hell would he go for a tired med student from his home state who didn’t care about herself enough to care for him?
Your mind runs a marathon as the elevator doors open to your floor. But when you approach your apartment, Jack is sitting on the floor next to door, scrolling on his phone. 
You freeze and stare blankly as he realizes that you’re here.
He perks up and walks over to you pulling you into a light hug. 
“Hey, Dee. How were classes?”
“Good. Thanks for asking.” You reply, hesitantly wrapping your arms back around him. You weren’t hugged a lot as a kid or growing up. You’ve hugged more in the last two weeks than you have in your entire life. 
“I have a game later today. Wanna come? The other team…isn’t that good. We might win. Unless you have work to do. Or if you just don’t want to go that’s okay too. Or-“ he cuts off when you press a finger against his lips. 
“I’d love to go. I finished a lot of my work during classes.” You smile removing your fingers, relaxing in his arms. “When is it?” 
“At 7. I’ll pick you up, yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
You both just stand there for a minute before you remember social cues. 
“So, come in? I’m hungry as fuck. We should eat.” You say pushing the door open, petting Nala as you walk in and Jack followed. He smiles at your awkwardness and accepts. 
Your look is acceptable. Hair clutched back, light makeup, hoodie and sweats is your go-to anyway. Plus, you’re always cold. 
You arrive at around quarter to seven and with the help of signs make your way to the lounge that Jack gave you a pass to. 
There’s a guard at the door that held his hand out for the pass and when you gave it to him he eyed you wearily. 
“You’re Hughes’ girl? Where did you get this?”
“Jack gave it to me.” 
“Uh huh.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “So can I go in?” 
“Sweetheart, Jack has only ever invited two other girls here and I can tell you right now, you’re not the third. Who gave you this pass?” 
The mention of Jack bringing other girls here makes you absolutely sick to your stomach. 
You might vomit. 
But anger bubbles up your throat and you’re about to press your finger into the guards chest and give him a piece of your mind, when there’s a patter of feet and an excited “Dee!” coming from your left. 
Jack has you in his arms already before you could register it. He tucks you into his shoulder, presses his lips against your temple, lingering, and faces the guard. 
“Was there a problem?” The guards mouth hangs open and flickers between the two of you. 
“None at all.” He opens the door and lets the two of you in. After he shuts the door and turns face you, you take a second to admire him. 
He’s dressed in his game jersey, shoulder pads and everything; except for his skates. 
He looks really good. 
“You look really good.” 
Silence. 
“Are you blushing?” 
Jack pulls you into his chest so you don’t see more of the pink adorning his cheeks. 
“Am not,” he mutters above your head and you giggle as you try to untangle from his grasp. 
You pull back and notice that he still has a tint on his cheeks. He holds your face for a moment, admiring every feature. Going from eye to eye, the slope of your nose, the dimple digging into your left cheek, a beauty mark on your chin, your lips. 
You feel your breath quickening when his thumb grazes your cheek and his eyes linger on your lips a little longer. 
A sharp knock on the door interrupted the two of you. 
“Warm ups in two!”
Jack sighed and looked back at you. 
“I need to go. You can watch from here.” He led you further into the room and you could hear the crowd getting louder as you got closer. He led you to a balcony where there were a few other people, and pecked your cheek before going back. 
The game starts and you’re more clueless that you thought you’d be. The puck was way too small and you didn’t bring your glasses, but you remember Jack telling you that he was ‘86’, so you tried to follow wherever he was. 
The girl next to you strikes up a conversation which you cautiously tread with, but you warm up soon. She tells you that she’s dating someone on the team. 
“Woah. That must be cool.” She looks confused. 
“Aren’t you Jack’s girl?”
“No? We’re friends. I think. He’s really nice to me.” Your new friend blinks before talking again. 
“He really likes you though, and you look like you really like him.” 
“Well of course I do. He treats me really well.” 
“Oh, babe. No. He like likes you. My boyfriend told me he talks about you all the time.” She holds your hand. You look down at it and back at her. You’re quiet for a moment. You’re not sure how to process that. 
“I’m not sure how to process that.”
“Well, do you like him? Love him even?” 
“I-“
You’re cut off by that awfully loud goal horn, and glance at the screen to see that Jack has scored. You felt a surge of pride in your chest and feel yourself smiling wide as Jack’s tiny figure skated around and fist bumped the players on the bench. He turns to your section for a moment, lingering for a sliver of a second and your heart stops. The game called for the face-off just a second later so he had to look away. 
You look over to the girl on your right and she’s already looking at you with a half smirk. 
Jack politely declined on drinks later in the locker room after the devils won. 
He leans against his car and thinks about you. He really wanted to see you, needed your affirmation. 
It’s all he seems to do now. Jack just wants reassurance and peace in knowing that you were there. He spent every waking moment thinking about you and how he got you to show sides of yourself that you don’t show to people. He tried to keep his personal life away from hockey but the way his instincts told him to look in your general direction after he scored made him sick to his stomach. 
He might actually be stupid obsessed with you. 
Trusting his gut on your body language and making a bold move the previous night may have been the best thing he’s ever done.
That means that he doesn’t need to be cautious with his flirting anymore. He knows exactly what he feels but he wants to wait til you come to that conclusion on your own. 
He didn’t notice your quiet footsteps in his direction and was mildly startled when you were standing in front of him. Almost at once, he felt a smile adorn his face. 
“That was so cool, I didn’t understand anything but I know you scored.” Your wide, twinkling eyes stared back up at him. “I’m proud of you.”
And that’s all it took for him to usher you into the back seat, strip off your sweatpants, and throw your legs over his shoulders. 
Not even ten minutes later, your lungs are dying for air and your body is covered in a thin sheet of sweat. He was rougher this time, sucking a hickey on your neck before, getting the entire bottom half of his face messy, his own hooded eyes losing focus as he pleasured you.  
“You back to me yet, baby?”
“Hm?” 
You open your eyes and you’re in the front seat, cleaned up, pants back on, and Jack is fastening your seatbelt for you. 
“I lost you for like, three minutes there. You okay?”
His voice is gentle and quiet, his index and thumb holding your chin softly as his azure eyes bore into yours. 
“Chipotle?”
He laughs, pulling back and shifting the gear into drive, his hair falling slightly in his face and he pushes it back. 
“All the chipotle in the world for my Dee.”
Your mind briefly flashed to how he kissed the tip of your nose before he went down on you, and not your lips.
You’re in Jack’s apartment now (your heart dropping when you thought of Nala, but then you remembered that you fed her quite well and she had to be passed out by now. Jack handed you a Hershey’s kiss to calm you down), and it’s big. 
Like, huge. 
Massive for someone who lives alone.
His TV was playing ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’ and you were watching like a hawk. 
“I’ve never seen this one before.”
“Really? You don’t watch romcoms?” Jack looks at you surprised, sitting next to you with both of your chipotle orders and throwing a blanket over the two of you. 
“No. I don’t really get the time.” You furrow your brows and turn to him with a blank expression. “You’ve showed me so much fun in the last few weeks. Thank you.”
Jack could happily die in that moment. He flashes back to yesterday again, your childlike wonder, the new things he learnt about you. 
“‘S nothing yet. There’s so much more you deserve to feel happy about.” He kisses your temple before getting closer to you. 
You both watch in silence for a while, occasionally laughing and aw-ing, until you can’t hold it back anymore. 
“Do you think kissing is unhygienic?”
You look up to him, his unbuttoned shirt, messy hair and lingering smile making your heart skip a beat. 
Oh no. 
You have such a horrible, fat crush on him.
“Hm?”
“I-nothing.”
“M’kay.”
Sweet boy is not a multitasker and the movie was at a really good part, so he didn’t really get distracted and soon you were engrossed too. 
You were still in a cloud of feelings and it was getting a bit much for you. Your head was usually void of emotion, so the change was welcome. And you had Jack to thank for that. He’s done so much for you, taken care of you in ways that no one has and no one ever will. 
You realize that he could be your worst heartbreak or someone that’s going to be in your life forever. 
You feel slightly sick thinking about it and you need to get it out of your system. 
“Can I suck you off?” Your lips lightly brush his ear. 
Now that. 
That gets Jack’s attention. 
He nearly snaps his neck to turn to face you and your noses touch. 
“You- I- what?”
Your fingertips are feathery as you brush the hair out of his face. 
“I want to suck your dick.”
“You don’t- if this is to- to reciprocate or something-“
“I promise it’s not. I really just want to.”
Jack is already semi-hard and he can feel his dress pants tighten. His eyes briefly widen and he borderline gulps before he watches your hand run down his chest and toy with his belt buckle. As soon as he gives you the green light and pauses ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’, you’re on your knees in front of him, just like how he was with you the previous night. 
Jack’s sanity is once again lost as he watches you on your knees for him. You make a quick work of his belt buckle and pull down his dress pants just enough. 
You can already see how loaded he is through his boxers and look back up at him with the same wide eyes that he goes crazy over. 
“Cool.” 
Jack barely has time to react over your concise approval of his length before you’re mouthing over his boxers, sucking softly, leaving Jack gasping for a breath. 
You pull down his boxers and start working immediately, pumping him and wetting your hands slightly so you have more friction. 
“Y’know, it’s crazy—I know what all of these veins are called.” You say, more to yourself but Jack’s half smile drops when you lay your tongue flat against his shaft and suck on his tip. He lets out an embarrassing sound between a staggered breath and a whimper as you make your way down. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact with him, making sure you’re getting it right. You come off and continue with your hands and look up at him. 
“Good?”
“F- Christ- fuck, so good, baby. So good.” 
Happy with yourself, you continue to suck him clean while he chokes out moans and his stomach clenches. You can feel him getting heavier in your mouth and you start speeding up, using both of your hands. 
There’s a moment when he reaches forward to push your hair out of your face, so that you don’t get bothered and so that he sees you properly, which warms your heart. 
He taps one of yours hands that’s on him to indicate that he’s close and you pull back with a kitten lick to his tip before sticking your tongue out.
You have Jack seeing stars when his load pumps into your mouth, and your eyes dart over his shirt clinging to his chest, his hair falling into his screwed shut eyes, his lips parted and his hand gripping the sofa with such intensity that his veins pop out. 
You tuck him back into his clothing after cleaning him up, and he looks at you with tired eyes while making grabby hands. 
You chuckle, climbing into his arms and he slumps his body against you, both of you now lying down on the couch as he unpauses the movie. 
His head rests comfortably against your chest, one of your hands running through his hair, and the other intertwined with his. 
It’s sweet. 
Jack wakes up alone and panics at once. It’s embarrassing, really; like finding out your stuffed animal fell to the floor during your sleep as a toddler. But when he checks his messages, he finds a text from you. 
Hey, I had to leave. I have a project due tomorrow and also Nala :( We can meet up later. I had fun yesterday. Thank you :))
It’s hits Jack how gone he is when he finds himself clutching his phone to his heart. 
It takes a while. 
He comes home fresh from morning practice took a nice long nap to clear his head before waking up properly to see that it was raining outside. 
He was enjoying (not) the protein shake that he was required to drink and mindlessly scoring through plays from an old game, when it hits him like a sack of bricks. 
Do you think kissing is unhygienic? 
You think he doesn’t want to kiss you. 
You think he’s toying with your heart by showing you all kinds of affection besides the one thing that both of you wanted so fucking bad. 
You think he doesn’t like you enough to do that yet. 
The drive to yours was smooth despite the rain pouring down from every direction, and because you always reminded him of road safety. 
You were standing outside of the apartment building, looking like you were having an argument with.. your tiger. 
Your hands were on your hips, body soaked and hair wet as you tried to coax Nala into shelter. 
Jack laughed at both of your antics which got your attention. Your mind flashes back to the day that you met him, the pouring rain, and how awkward it was to meet someone you knew from a while back. You wave at him happily as he approached, but noticed a hint of  anxiety and embarrassment. 
“What’s wro-?“
“Are you into poetry?”
“Uh, sometimes? Why?”
“This- well, I can’t read it. Here.” 
He hands over his phone, stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at anything but you. Puzzled, you cover his phone from the pelting droplets so you could read. 
‘The first time you caught my eye
it was not love at first sight. 
Instead a quiet curiosity was
planted in my chest and I knew
it was only a matter of time before 
you sunk beneath my bones and
nurtured this deep seated familiarity
into a love so fierce that I would question
if I had ever been in love before.’
Lyra Wren. 
You read it again. 
There’s no way he actually searched for a poem to depict how he felt. 
“Look, I didn’t understand half of it hit you get the-“
Jack was cut off by our lips against his. 
It was short, maybe a second long, closed mouth, but you pulled away breathless and were close enough to feel his heart racing underneath his clothes. 
How desperately he wanted your cold, soft lips against his again. 
“So, you like me? For who I am?”
He nods. 
“Are you sure? ‘Cause I-“ 
You were interrupted by Nala’s whine (to say: I change my mind, I want to go inside), and you give Jack his phone, grab his hand and pull him inside. 
“C’mon, we’ll get pneumonia.”
Your hands were still in each others, his engulfing yours, when you shut the door to your apartment, locked it, watched Nala bound to her room, and turned to face him again properly. 
He was so, so close. Your lips were parted, just inches apart, your foreheads touching. 
He closed the gap this time, almost groaning in relief when he felt your mouth properly against his, something you both yearned for without realizing. His lips move against yours gently, savoring as much of you as he can. He nips your bottom lip and it has you and Jack smiling into the kiss. And then it’s a mess, teeth clashing, giggling, tongues lolling over another, one of his hands cupping your face and the other wrapped around your waist, but it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted. 
You pull back. 
“I love you more.”
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bailaconox · 2 years ago
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hyperfocusing so bad on this silly website project. self control who. jamstack-comments-engine is my mortal enemy now and I MUST DEFEAT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago
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hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”
i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏
keeping it in the family
wc: 1.6k
cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven
note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 
“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 
“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 
“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”
“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”
“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 
“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 
“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”
“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”
“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”
“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”
“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 
“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 
“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”
“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 
“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”
“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.
“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 
“I think I’d rather die–”
“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 
“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”
“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.
"That would be so awesome."
“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”
“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 
“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”
“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”
“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”
“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”
“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”
“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”
“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”
“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.
“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”
"Dude, just ignore them."
“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 
“You think I don’t get into relationships?”
“Bakugo…”
“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”
“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–
“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."
"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."
“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.
“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 
“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”
“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”
“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”
“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”
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dear-ao3 · 3 months ago
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being at home means going to the food store with my dad which is a hilarious expedition where the two of us very clueless individuals are unleashed and have to read my moms mind to figure out what food my mom wants through very very limited directions and mind reading. so
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jinkiezzsstuff · 8 months ago
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Met the Devil 2
lucifer x human!reader
sorry this took forever it’s been hectic i guess im in my fanfic writer era of madness happening and mentioning it in the a/n (im joking… unless) anyways lads hopefully this is okay womp womp
Part [1]
Based on devilish folklore and wives tales so lucifer may be ooc!
Warnings: BODYHORROR; DESCRIPTIONS OF TEETH FALLING OUT. Mentions of blood, reader dies a goofy ahh death, lucifer being an unsure wreck, and he’s got no game, reader is perpetually confused, inaccurate descriptions of religion, swearing, not proof read and i don’t entirely know where i’m going with this teehee lmk whatcha think xxx
word count: 3.1K
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Three months, it had been three exhausting months since the incident with Lucifer. As if there was some devine intervention, everything seemed to fall at your feet working out for you, while also simultaneously sucking. Career wise, you were doing much better, after working for Marie and watching her house keeping it exactly how she wished, excluding the devil you had intercourse with, she put in a word for you at her and her husbands church, which you ended up getting.
Although not a very important role, it paid well. You were mostly in charge of cleanliness, cleaning the areas in the front where children played, keeping the holy fountain fresh, sweeping the pews and repairing any unbinded bibles. However the staff weren’t particularly fond of you, the nuns avoided you like the plague, and the priest gave you glares. Thankfully you rarely interacted with them if at all.
However, while your career was better than before, your physical health wasn’t. Things tanked once you slept with the devil. It started slow, noticing hues appear in your skin that you hadn’t before. Despite the various skin, and blood tests, and the general run down of different illnesses that cause changing pigmentation, there was no evidence to prove anything was truly wrong, just random hues of pinks, purples and blues showing up like you were some corpse.
The second minuet thing to change was your nails, at first you foolishly wondered if your calcium intake increased causing the thickness in your nails to double, but you quickly scrapped that al when your nails grew more rapidly. You really hadn’t changed much diet wise for that to be true, odd as it was it wasn’t something you hated.
The worst of it was teeth. One night you woke to a horrific splitting headache, it wasn’t just one part of your head either. The pain seared through your jaw, down your neck, up your face through your cheeks and in the back of your eyes all the way to the tip top of your head. You walked half asleep half dazed from pain to the bathroom, once the light blinded you and you got woken up a bit was when your brain registered the feeling.
Your mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood as you tuned into the sound of tapping in your mouth as the loose teeth collided. When you threw yourself over your sink spitting continuously, you immediately began to cry feeling your empty gums with your tongue, and the worst part was it seemed you had swallowed some too as the amount in the sink didn’t amount to how much was missing.
That night you must’ve passed out because you were woken up by your angry family member shouting at you to hurry. The strangest thing was, however you awoke with teeth, sharp as razors, and the porcelain sink that was never cleared of blood or teeth was now cleaned.
Since your teeth, you managed to not lose nor gain any other strange things, and the only people who didn’t seem to look past these oddities were the people who attended the church or worked at it. It was like they could tell you slept with Lucifer, something in their eyes always felt so intense and aware even if they’d never spoken to you before. The strangeness didn’t end with your appearance or career.
You had weird dreams you couldn’t explain, it felt so real but once awake you could only remember how you felt about the dream. You had close interactions with certain animals, like ducks, goats, crows, and insects as well. It was like they sought you out no matter where you were, people would give you looks when you started greeting the goat like an old friend.
So,now three months after Lucifer, you changed a lot. You know it’s because of him, you just can’t figure out why, but soon you’ll know. Walking into your work place on your day off, everybody’s least favourite thing to do, but it had to be done. You saw the father reading a bible off to the side of the room, and so you approached. He gave you a stern look, and you could tell by his stiff and shifty body language he wasn’t too happy with your presence, antsy to see what it is you wanted.
“Good afternoon father, how’re you?” You start, standing in a way you perfected prior to attempt to seem unthreatening. The priest hummed closing his bible to pay attention to you. “Good child, good. How’re you, is there something i could aid you in?” Straight to the point, mentally you cheered happy you didn’t have to waltz around small talk for fifteen minutes.
“Well i’m alright father, thank you. I was actually wondering about, um, the devil?” The priest's head lulls back slightly eyebrows raised as his mouth opens with a silent o. “Is there temptation in your life?” You shifted on your feet at the question. You hadn’t really thought of it before but you suppose you felt more inclined to act without thinking,and indulge especially after Lucifer claimed you.
“Well yes, but i was more so wondering on what the devil is capable of? Like making deals, and stuff…” You trail eyes casted away to the large sculpture of jesus on the wall. “Nothing, the devil isn’t as strong as gods love. And never in the bible does it state the devil makes deals, that is but a wives tale.” The priest spoke sternly, punctuating his words to get his point across.
This was news to you however, you always thought the devil was more of a a character in the bible. “Father one more question?” You say head snapping back to look at him. “If the devil were to have intercourse with a person, what’s said to be the outcome? Will god punish?” The poor priest looked like he’d seen a ghost, yet you couldn’t comprehend why. Although slightly morbid you didn’t think the question was that out there, perhaps it was the monotonous way you’d said it.
“I’m afraid i don’t have the answer to that,” And with that the priest stood, excusing himself from your conversation walking off down the isle. “I heard the devil picks somebody to carry the antichrist.” Turning to the voice, there sat a woman, old looking wearing a light blue dress. “The anti christ?” You repeat mostly to yourself, but the elderly woman hummed. “Yep. Woo’s the target, sleeps with them, and they give birth to the antichrist. Bad things happen once the child’s born.” The woman explained turning to look back at you.
“And, what if there’s no anti christ, what if the devil just like…” The old lady cackled looking at your puzzled face. She tsked and ushered you near. When in front of her she met your eyes, again with that weirdly all knowing look on them everyone in the church seemed to give you. Holding out her hand to you, you opened yours holding it out to her.
She placed something in your hand but you weren’t able to know what it was before you dropped it shrieking. It was like gripping a hot coal, you gripped your wrist keeled over trying to breath out the pain. Your eyes briefly glanced over to the floor where the object dropped and sitting there was a gold rosary covered in what was more than likely your blood. Peaking up from your bent over position the old woman had took several steps back from you, hand up to her mouth.
Not knowing what to do, you perked up, thanked her for her input, and sped out to the street. Just like the night you met him, the sky darkened and clashed with lightning, then came the rain. The devil himself must’ve worked through water with the way it was a constant anytime something happened.
Walking down the street at leisure, you inspected the wound the rosary left as rain pelted you like no tomorrow. You sighed brushing your thumb over the large cross shaped gash. Suddenly a crack of lightning came down brightly, it was harsh and so very bright. Then another crack, this time however you felt the harshest pain describable. It was like being lit on fire inside your body, or like your blood was suddenly filled with glass shards and you could feel them coursing through.
You couldn’t scream too in pain, you simply slumped to the floor, the searing pain engulfing your body. As your eyes closed, it felt like the floor was sucking you down, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even will your eyes to open as you felt the concrete below you begin to engulf you fully. Your lungs burnt as you couldn’t breathe, but like any other regular circumstance where you’d gasp for breath, you were physically unable to. Like you’re body didn’t know how to breath, so you sat there chest feeling tight, burning and your stomach feeling like it was forcing itself inward but nothing changed.
As torturous as it was, it was short lived and finally you felt freed. The concrete beneath you morphed into something softer cozier, the breathlessness left finally you were able to fill your lungs with air almost as refreshing as a glass of water would’ve been, and when you opened your eyes you were greeted by the sight of a bedroom. It was decorated with whites, reds and golds, around you could see engraved apples and ducks in not only the door frames and baseboards but some of the furniture as well.
You couldn’t will yourself to sit up, you still felt the fire on the inside of your body albeit gentler than before. “Hey cookie.” Cooed a smooth voice, you didn’t have to look to know who it was, but thankfully he stepped in front of you, kneeling down to your laying figure. “How you feeling?” You stared at his face, scanning it over and over, his eyes were hauntingly beautiful. The red irises danced around nervously, you watched intently as his forked tongue brushed against the dryness of his lips.
“You’re beautiful.” You mutter half muffled by the fact you sunk comfortably into the mattress that you lay on. Chuckling quietly the king of hell turned and sat on the side of the bed, petting your head very gently like you were made of glass. “Where am i?” His hand stuttered on your head, and finally you rolled over onto you back to gain the view of him. His hat discarded, his suit jacket gone, he sat only in a vest, dress shirt, and his white suit pants.
“Hell, sweetheart.” It was interesting how warmly he had said that to you, looking down at you with almost a pitying expression. “I’m dead?” You jerked up, immediately regretting it as the pain shot through your body from the top of your head down. Sucking in air through your teeth, clenching your eyes shut Lucifer cooed at you reprimanding you for being too quick. “God must’ve struck you down.” His voice lifted as he let out his attempt at a joke, but you weren’t really in the mood to laugh.
“What happened, with me when i was alive.” You ask looking over to him, the expression he had looked slightly guilty, his eyes casted downward, a frown that tried to be a poker face- but failed. “I, well y’see, heh,” Lucifer fumbled picking at his nails and looking around the room. He bounced himself against the mattress almost like he was amping himself up. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay! So y’know you got some human repellant, claws, sharp teeth, that dead look. Sent some little guardians after you! Too bad you couldn’t meet the snake.” Lucifer tisked mournfully shaking his head.
You smiled at him, oddly enough, it was quite endearing that he set out to do these things to keep you safe. “Oh!” He sprung up meeting your eyes properly. “I also made Marie get you that job, and I forced a good pay, always here to help y’know.” The king briefly pinched your cheek before retracting and standing. He looked frazzled, uncertain, he pulled at his clothes like he was trying to fix them. “Sorry it’s been awhile. Y’know i gave up going to earth in like 1850.” The devil laughed out, scratching the back of his neck.
You scooted yourself to the edge of the bed, Lucifer watching intently. “So, what, well I mean, why…?” You were confused head bobbing as you tried to make sense of everything. Things didn’t entirely add up this you were certain of, and you could tell the king was keeping something hidden from you. “As you know hell is well, it’s hell, and you were so…” He trailed off hands circling eachother as he gazed off into space, attempting to find the right words.
Deflating his body slumped over, in one foul swoop it looked as though he’d lost all the will to keep up his charade. “Look I didn’t think you were gonna shake my hand, but in the moment I was hooked on you. The night you took the apple reminded me of days of my life i can’t go back to. So i may have indulged, but i didn’t expect you to be soooo,”
Your eyebrows pinched together as you watched him with judgement, giving him a look that egged him on, yet warned him. “Captivating?” You ‘hmphed’ at his term, as weak and guilty grin overtaking his face. “Okay okay. I enjoyed our night, you gave me advice and helpful conversation I haven’t gotten in, pfft,” He was now pacing, eyes wide as his arms wrapped around himself as a way to secure him.
“Ever, you were a breath of fresh air! I didn’t expect the deal to go through! I didn’t expect you to grab my hand, so when you sold your soul you started to gain those devilish features. I wanted to make sure you were still safe so I manipulated Marie, got you the job, but nothing else was planned!” He exclaimed hands coming up in defence, although it wasn’t like you were angry, you sat there patiently watching him and waiting for him to finish his explanation at his own pace. Understanding this was probably just as stressful for him, if what he says is true.
Blowing out air the king pulled gently at his hair. “I don’t know what to do from here, I sent animals to protect you, I knew something would happen, damnit!” The short man raged eyes blowing up red, that snapped you up, gently you grabbed his shoulders. “I believe you, I have no idea what’s going on either so it’s okay! I’m terrified, but you don’t look any better. Maybe we can figure it out together?” You suggest attempting to be a voice of reason, watching his eyes hue from bright red to the yellow and red irises you’re more familiar with.
He sighed and nodded looking slightly embarrassed. “Do you think we could set some ground rules?” You quirked a brow at that, watching as he once again began to pace. “My daughter, Charlie, we spoke about her, she can’t know I made a deal with you! And for now, she can’t know i did anything sexual. Oh no no no. NO!” Lucifer panicked, switching between gripping his hair and swinging his arms around. It felt like a stab in the gut, it wasn’t your first time being a secret, but you wish you could’ve kept the promise you made to yourself about getting into another situation where you were just a secret fling.
“I’m not gonna pretend that doesn’t get under my skin slightly, I’d prefer not to be the devil's dirty secret, but I understand what Charlie means to you so I’ll do whatcha need.” Lucifer looked at you sheepishly, it seemed like he slightly regretted the choice of delivery as you crossed your arms across your chest, looking at him with a tinge of disgust in your eye. “Okay next, uh let's see, okay you’ll pose as my assistant and you’ll spend the days with me so I can keep an eye on ya….”
You quirk your head, pondering if you should say what you want to say. Which was questioning him and the motive here, it’s normal to say things you don’t always mean in such an intense moment of sex fueled emotion, but now there’s a big consequence and you’re not sure if he really knows what he wants to do. “Hey,” You say quietly grabbing him from his frantic mumbling that he was doing to himself. He hummed at you, his attention refocused on you as he did. “Do you at all regret the deal.”
Lucifers eyes blew wide, his lips puckering as his fingers fiddled with each other. “Regret is a very loaded work y’know- uh, I think- eh, maybe if- okay so,” He fumbled his wings popping out feathers flying around as they did, they puffed out with stress making you gawk. “Uhm, I wouldn't do it again if I had the choice! But still I would've wanted the sex!” Finally he pumped his chest proudly, meanwhile you rolled your eyes. “That’s what most men would do, yeah.” Your tone was bitter, catching him off guard a bit, to be fair he didn’t know what you wanted from him. Normally deals were two sided, but this one you benefited nothing from, except trauma and an early grave.
“I didn’t mean that,” Damn he really lost his way after Lilith huh, every flirtation came out so naturally but now it seemed it was so unsure, no king of a whole mini word of demons should be unsure, he mentally scolded himself for being so unfit.
“Listen can we figure this out later, I still feel the pain from when I died, so I would love to sleep that off.” You say plopping yourself back on the comfy mattress. “Yes, yes of course go ahead! We’ll figure this out together hm, shedevil? Won’t leave you in the dark!” This time his exclamation sounded certain as he jumped into the bed with you, snapping his fingers so the lights blinked out. You hummed too lazy to respond and crawled underneath the covers, it was nice, warm and smelt like him, underneath the covers you felt him slip in with you, his body heat emitting off of him in waves.
You hoped your mind was less clouded tomorrow, hopefully you could have a better conversation with the king about this deal, get things sorted out.
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