#it's like the shopping cart thing of you show what an asshole you are when you leave them out (and it's not a one off)

[medicinemane]

You know I gotta be blunt, it's not immigrants or trans people or any of those groups that are the problem with this country

To me there's really one major problem group... people who thumpa thumpa with their fucking car stereo and give me a headache by vibrating me inside my own private fucking home, infringing on my right to some fucking peace and quiet

Do something about them, they tangibly make my life worse, and rankly they're acting like a selfish asshole when they do that (whoever they are outside the car, that's what they're acting like in it)

Not even joking, immigrants ain't done shit to me and probably have made my life better in a whole lot of ways that I don't directly get to see

Trans people don't do me no fucking harm, had one live with me for free here for over a year and worst she did was annoy me by being a redditor

Meanwhile I'm trying to sleep after dealing with insomnia all night, but fucking subwoofer hanging out... fuck, I don't know, at the intersection on a dirt road? I don't know what they seem to just fucking sit there, are they chilling in front of the post office? I don't get it

Anyway, point is that's the person who is concretely causing me harm right now

How bout we crack down on the real menaces to society first before we even start dreaming about going after the people just fuckin existing?

[squalodinoappreciationsquad]

For the OTP meme, may I have all of them XD Just kidding. I've managed to narrow it down to 3, 4 (this could go both ways and I'd love your thoughts.) 48 and 51 if you want to pick from any of those! 57 is also hilarious. I can just visualize what could happen with those two shopping together.

Oh, that is A LOT of interesting questions! Let's see what I can pull out!

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)

They do, but not on purpose, so to say. There was that one time where they both were VERY late to their respective occupation and it happened that Squalo arrived in front of the Varia with Dino's coat and he had to do the walk of shame towards the coat hangers, whilst Dino had to explain a very distressed Tsuna why he was wearing Squalo's coat and he had to basically be like "oh haha silly me!"

Or that other time where they got nearly caught together by Reborn and they had to dress up REAL FAST and stuff got mixed up. Like the t-shirts. Squalo "I only wear plain basic t-shirts" Superbi had to live with the fact that he was wearing Dino "if it's not printed possibly in metal music fashion it's not worth wearing" Cavallone's t-shirt.

There are plenty of occasions like that, HOWEVER, there was one single time where they switched clothes on purpose and it was to exact petty revenge against Reborn, who has the habit of just being everywhere at all times, especially the most inconvenient ones.

Not the most comfortable thing, Dino is used to baggy clothes, whilst Squalo wears a lot of tight-fitting clothes. I will let you imagine how it went, about as smooth as a cactus.

4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?

It kind of depends? For both of them the concept of "protection" is such a broad one and it can mean different things. TBF Squalo has "protected" Dino a lot from bullies, mean people in general, people who meant harm. I am fairly sure Squalo acted as the scapegoat whenever Xanxus meant harm to Dino.

Or Dino has "protected" Squalo from like things going wrong - am I maybe thinking Dino crying and begging the CEDEF to let him save3 Squalo from certain death after the Rain battle? Maybe so. Look, there was no reason for Dino to save Squalo and I am still thinking that the "it's gonna be trouble for the Vongola" excuse was a bullshit one so.

There is a lot of "unsaid" and a lot of "shown", these two idiots are a mess. They can't communicate ever, but they do understand each other very well and that is probably why it's "protection" in a lot of ways. If that makes sense

48. Who’s the better driver?

Surprisingly Dino. Squalo has a lot of "road rage", full insults and middle fingers and several fines on his name. Look, the man is STRESSED and the fact that he has to harness the entirety of the Varia is not helping!

Dino, on the other hand, was taught by Romario how to drive properly, and Romario is the most patient person in the universe. He taught Dino how to deal diplomatically with the assholes. Dino is a role model citizen on the streets.

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

Look. Listen.

We are talking about Dino "I like shiny things" Cavallone and Squalo "I am gonna get a good grade in grocery shopping which is both possible and normal to achieve" Superbi.

Squalo has a list and "Dino, if you fucking add that cereals box I am going to kill you!", whilst Dino is "but I am gonna eat cereals!"

S: Since fucking WHEN?? Last time you FORGOT and we had to THROW THE WHOLE BOX AWAY!

D: But THIS TIME IT'S GONNA BE DIFFERENT!

Listen, Squalo and Dino to me and my neurodivergent heart are the Autism to ADHD communication, no one wants to go with them to do any grocery shopping.

Squalo will present an entire spreadsheet with exact times of leaving, arrival, a dtailed list, what snacks they are gonna get afterwards and at what time, whilst Dino will show up two minutes before leaving with a "oh, are we leaving? Are we going somewhere?"

It's a mess.

[crazy56u]

Okay, shopping cart accident to one side, I’m home now. Let’s go.

Tonight, on a very special “Quantum Leap”, we remind you that 2012 was about 11 years ago.

Oh fucking God, Party Rock Anthem…

Okay, it looked like Ben punched her to the floor.

“You love basketball.” Interesting time to pint that out.

“Ben, call it a hunch, but I think you have to save basketball.”

“Amanda, if you don’t rest your ankle, I’m banning you from basketball.”

You didn’t have to cue Party Rock Anthem back up, guys…

Gia should’ve done a Space Jam, but she got the job done regardless.

Now Ben, as you can tell, you are not leaping yet, so welcome to the long haul.

Ah, we’re getting right into the transphobia, delightful.

“And she’s your daughter.” She just called Ben “Dad”, no fucking shit.

I too sadly stare at high school trophies when confronted with dickhead teenagers yelling at my daughter.

In-fighting amongst the team, and Ben being scolded by the principal for having his trans daughter play basketball, we are starting off on a cheery fucking note…

“Look, my daughter can fucking grow a new ankle all I fucking care, you are the asshole here, not me!”

Calling it: In 8 years time, Amanda’s mom becomes a full blown Karen. I can technically say that since “Karen” didn’t enter the public consciousness until 2020, she doesn’t count yet in 2012.

Well, I commend Gia for trying to make light of a shit situation.

Also, dollars to donuts the principal was the one to make her use the janitor’s closet as a changing room.

Why the fuck would they use a real helicopter for “Miss Saigon”? You remember what happened with “Twilight Zone: The Movie”, right?

Ben already changed history, neat.

So, Ben has to make sure Gia has to not run away, got it. How many transphobes does he need to beat up to make this happen? Can that be the episode?

Moral of the Story: Being an ally is for scrubs, being an accomplice gets shit done.

Why am I convinced this bar is in Texas?

Also, is Janis still at the Project, or was she allowed to leave after saying a name?

Dottie, you are clearly lying about not knowing Ben, why are you lying to Ernie Hudson?

Dottie is such a sick-ass poet, the government hates her. That’s awesome.

So, while Ben is fighting transphobia in 2012, Magic and Jenn are attending a poetry slam in Not Texas.

March 13th, the scariest March. So, watch as it turns out that day was actually super bad for Dottie, and I become an asshole.

“Management here is sus.” Among Us has done a lot of fucking damage to society.

[My phone wanted to autocorrect “damage” to “Sam anger”, just FYI.]

If only “Angry Birds” was still a good game in 2023…

“I can’t believe you put her in the game without giving me a head’s up first!” It was the last 30 seconds, and Amanda had a shit ankle, stop trying to make Ben the bad guy here!

“Don’t make me the enemy, I’m already doing that to you!”

Okay, I count that as confirmation of my “Amanda’s mom becomes a Karen” theory.

I think you need to block that number, ma’am.

“I-I didn’t think-” “That’s right. You didn’t think.” Ma’am, remember how you told Ben to not make you the enemy? Yeah, that’s a two-way street.

Ma’am, I am willing to bet Gia’s going to regionals, I hope you are prepared for that.

I love how Ben indirectly asked “Why couldn’t this episode just be basketball?”

“They banned trans people in the military?” Oh, I wish to fucking God they were allowed to directly shit on Trump here…

“The point is, we saw it coming, and we[…] didn’t say anything.” A tale as old as time.

I love it when my wholesome time travel show openly admits it wants to fix the bullshit of 2017, but can’t yet.

“[soft cheerful music]” is not a caption this episode deserves.

I love how the episode is blatantly making this a wholesome family moment to set the audience up for more bullshit at that car wash. I saw the trailer.

I fucking felt myself die hearing Ben say “Swag”. Certain things were left behind in the 2010s for a fucking reason.

And now there’s a debate between Twilight and Hunger Games. I am fucking old.

“Bella is totally useless without Edward or Jacob.” Show, I did not fucking sign up for debates about the lore of Twilight, stop this.

“Who needs The Hunger Games if you got high school, am I right?” Mic drop.

And now the episode enters hardcore “This is the fucking moral” mode.

Nothing like a dance party to make life better.

Okay, legitimate question: How much of this speech was written, and how much of this is ad-libbed from personal experience?

Okay, time for the fun car wash scene set to Carly Rae Jepson, clearly things will not get bad!

Oh goody, Amanda’s mom is also here, I already do not have high hopes!

[Fun fact: I dabbled in car washing as a kid one summer. That lasted only a week; when I tried washing my sister’s car, she got annoyed that I didn’t do a good job, and when she tried doing it herself, she sprayed me in the face with the hose out of anger. That’s why I don’t wash cars anymore.]

“Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s tonal whiplash, I guess sorry, maybe.”

Ohhhhhhh, I hope that wasn’t the principal’s car…

…so, of course it was actually Amanda’s mom’s car…

Ben is getting fed up with this mom, and I agree with him.

Boy, I already know what the principal has in mind for “protecting girl’s basketball”, and I already am mad.

Ben is legitimately knocking some skulls to protect Gia. Father of the year.

“Okay, let me tell you a story. It’s about me.”

“Dad, I bet it sucked for Ben Song…” “You don’t know the fucking half of it.”

“And every time I smell Febreze-“ Holy fucking tonal shift, Batman.

“She called it loneliness, but I called it toast.” …you were having a stroke?

Magic is having a religious experience in this poetry slam.

I love how she didn’t even say a name, and yet Amanda’s mom instantly owned up to being the complainer. No fucking subtlety.

Amanda, why are trying to be cordial at this point, your mom is currently making shit worse, and both you and Gia know this.

Okay, fuck it. She’s a full-blown Karen now. The evolution is complete.

Please, please let her slap the shit out of Amanda’s mom…

Amanda, there is only one reason why you would say it would be different. You know that, right?

I love how the principal has just decided to cowtow to Amanda’s bitch-ass mom.

I now really fucking hate the principal. Way to fucking go, you made shit worse!

And now Gia’s going to run away! Good job all around!

“This isn’t my first runaway kid, let me tell you about an earthquake in ‘89 sometime.”

Maybe basketball will help fix everything…

Look, Gia, if it makes you feel better, there’s a decent chance karma is going to bite Principal Kruger and Amanda’s mom both in the ass hard.

“Why don’t you grownups figure out how to make school safe for everyone?!” Gia? Hi. I’m from 2023. We’re still waiting for that question to be answered…

Ben has indirectly said the principal can go fuck herself.

Okay, cool, Amanda has decided to stop giving a shit about her mom.

“You’re really going to put your job on the line for this stunt?” “Go fuck yourself, ma’am, I’m fucking Ben Song.”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to achieve with this?” “Well, ma’am, I think we’re about to go to regionals.” I honest to God wish Ben flipped her off after saying that. You know for a fact he wanted to.

Okay, time for the most important game of basketball all episode.

The only cheaters I see are all the assholes holding up the shitty fucking signs trying to psyche Gia out.

That was Ben’s “Remember the Titans” speech.

I love how everyone at the Project is getting in on the action.

And Ian goes into the Imaging Chamber.

“Look, the principal wanted me to make you pull your daughter, but I ain’t her fucking lackey. Instead, I just want to tell you good luck, we’re all counting on you.”

Yeah, get fucked, society, the Union saves the day yet again!

Annnnnnd I was wondering when Katy Perry would poke her head into the door…

I love how Ben leapt there.

Meanwhile, back at the poetry slam.

“Dottie, you got Quantum Leaped.”

So, I guess Ian’s the secret leaper.

Meanwhile, Hell’s Kitchen.

“Awesome! I get to be a cook! Nothing bad can happen!”

[On an unrelated note, the promo revealed that the next episode involves the restaurant burning down that same day.]

All in all, I am now doubly upset I couldn’t watch this live. And that’s not even factoring in there’s another three week gap.

Also, my pet theory is that Principal Kroger gets sacked soon after that game.

[lonerofthepack]

People are many things to many others, and many things depending on the circumstances. ‘Who’ a given person ‘is’ is filtered and twisted by the viewer’s experiences and the limited information that the viewer has at any given time about the person they’re taking the measure of.

No one is always kind, no one is always cruel. No one is always brave, or generous with their time, or able to communicate a need or disability that may prompt an entirely different assumption about their behavior or character. No one is free of biases, and no one has never harmed anyone.

If your concern is who a person ‘really is’ to you, that is a different matter than who that person is to the waiter who didn’t pass along allergy information or the waiter who brought them extra napkins unasked, or who they are to a boss that may be considering them for a needed promotion or may be fucking them over with their hours, or who they are to a child or pet in their care.

This is not to say that how a person comports themselves with you or others or in relation to others isn’t important, or that all assumptions are automatically invalid.

Merely that there is danger in adopting a heliocentric view of the world with yourself as the sun, where white is all that you see as good or understandable, and black is all that you disapprove of. The friend who waits for the sound of your seatbelt and drops you off and makes sure you get inside before driving away is not pure as driven snow, and expecting them to be is to set both of you up for failure. The man who leaves a shopping cart in a handicap spot and speeds out of the parking lot may be an asshole in a lot of ways — if he’s the EMT that pulls someone you love out of a car wreck and saves their life with CPR, will it matter to you that he inconvenienced an elderly wheelchair user? It is not a bad thing, that it likely doesn’t.

People will show you themselves in thousands of ways, whether they intend to or not, and you will have to learn to recognize what about them is and what isn’t your concern under the circumstances at hand. You will also have to figure out how to deal with yourself when you have to work with or around others, regardless of how they measure in your estimation.

And it must be said: you are showing yourself as much as “they” are showing themselves. Is your standard of measurement something that you would enjoy being measured against in someone else’s eyes? Is your heart lighter than a feather on the scales?

"people show their true colours in life threatening situations" no, they show you what they act like when they're mortally terrified, an emotion notorious for literally turning your entire brain off to the point where people who go into those situations as a profession need to be literally trained on how to not have that happen

[totallyanopossum]

Your boyfriend Peter x y/n, well behaved quiet girl x class problem boy, roommate, awkward,cute

Why You?

WC:3.5k

Link to master post

Warning: rape mentioned, abuse mentioned

Part 4, shopping

He was insistent about helping out around the house; he makes meals a few times a week, cleans the windows and mirrors since he doesn't need a chair to reach the tops like her, does his own laundry which he is rather glad about he didn't know how to stop her from doing his and he felt weird about her washing his underwear even though she had to reaction.

Today's task of going grocery shopping is one he has signed up for, wanting to tag along to help her reach things but also because he's become fond of being near her. If he's not around he can't keep trouble away, even though he still hasn't been clued in on what is bothering her, better overprotective then absent when she needs protecting.

It's drizzling today but she assures him she has no problem driving in the rain. He's not a fan of being driven by others, it's a lack of control issue. But she proves to be a very competent driver, he even enjoys her playlist, silently tapping along to the beat of a few songs he really likes.

He follows after her, hands stuffed in his pockets. Now he's slightly regretting coming on this outing, he doesn't know what to do or how to act and now he's just awkwardly lurking behind her. He does know the proper distance to follow, too far and it will look like he's being a creep following her, and too close he might bump into her and that would be awkward.

She looks cute pushing the cart, with her list clutched in one hand, eyes scanning the shelves, periodically stopping to push her glass up. When did he start noticing the adorable things in the world, when did he start seeing her this way, this is dangerous.

As they go she checks things off her list, using the pen she magicky pulled out of her messy bun, he wonders what else she has hidden in there.

Y/N-“ can you grab that for me?”

Peter- “ yeah”

He steps in closing the distance and easily grabs the box off the top shelves. She admires how he doesn't have to struggle on his tippy toes or ask for help from a stranger like she does. She can't help but stare a little as he reaches up, his shirt lifting exposing his v lines and happy tail, she has to quickly avert her gaze, she can't risk blushing. That would make an awkward situation, one not easily explained, but damn is he nice to look at. She's glad he came along, it's nice he's been helping out around the house and interacting more, maybe not with words but his actions show he cares.

Final thing on her list is to stop by the deli to get some stuff for sandwiches. She takes a number and waits for her turn.

Peter gets antsy being so close to her in the crowded area, he becomes very conscious of his body trying to make sure he doesn't bump into her. Even though he would like to bump into her, to know how soft he feels, this isn't the time or place, there probably won't ever be a time or place but he can imagine.

Y/N-“ Crap”

Peter- “ what's up”

Y/N-“ i forgot we're low on paper towels and I'm stuck in line”

Peter- “ ill get em”

So Peter leaves her to go get the paper towels, he feels like he's on a mission from her which blocks out all distractions.

As he rounds the corner approaching the deli he looks for her and sees a guy near her, way too fucking close. He marches over boots stomping, as he gets closer he can see she's shut down, uncomfortable, and anxious. How dare someone fucking do that to her and so publicly. Is this asshole the problem that's been bothering her?

He comes up behind the guy without his noticing and looks around him to make eye contact with her. When their eyes lock she looks relieved for a second but it's quickly replaced by embarrassment. She has no reason to be embarrassed some jackass is bothering her and he won't be for long. Unfortunately this isn't the place he could really give this guy what he deserves but just making sure she's okay is enough.

He grabs the back of the guy's collar and lifts him up, scaring the shit out of the unsuspecting asshole, who thrashes about until he recognizes Peter King is the one threatening him.

Peter- “ you go anywhere near her again and I'm gonna bust your teeth out, break your finger very slowly, and make everyday a living hell for you. I'm really good at coming up with new creative painful punishments.”

He releases his hold on the guy as he tosses him aside and steps in front of her, acting as a shield.

Peter- “ Run”

The guy turns on heels quick and gets out of there fast, he didn't know he was messing with Peter King and doesn't wanna be messing with that psycho.

Peter turns to her, looking her over from head to toe checking for injuries or any signs of hands being laid on her. He doesn't see anything out of order but can't be sure.

Peter- “ are you okay, did he hurt you?”

Y/N-“ im fine, he didn't touch me”

Peter- “ you done here, got everything ?”

Y/N-“ yeah”

Peter- “ let's check out, get home”

Y/N- “ mm-hm”

He knows she's shut down and just gonna say it's fine and mm-hm to everything, so he takes change. He takes over pushing the cart but notices she hasn't moved, she's frozen in place tapping her fingers to her thumb over and over again. He goes to her side, he considers touching her to get her attention but does wanna risk triggering her more.

Peter- “ y/n, hey come on”

He uses the best soft caring voice he can muster, trying to be as soothing as possible. He knows what it's like to shut down and turn inwards, it usually leads to a darker place, one very hard to escape. But she's been there for him through a dark period, just helping without pushing or asking, just being there and taking care of things, now it's his turn to do that for her.

They make it to the check out lane okay, he keeps an eye on her, surprised how much she can function while shut down, her autopilot is much more effective then his. He just sits in one place smoking for hours, yet she is able to do tasks even if her demeanor is a bit robotic, zombie-like.

They make it to the car, load the groceries and when he sees her heading to the drivers side he panics a bit. Loading groceries is one thing but driving Is another, he doesn't think she should be driving in this state.

Peter- “ y/n are you okay to drive?”

Y/N-“ yeah, do it all time”

Peter- “ fuck, really?”

Y/N- “ risking my life is one thing but I won't risk yours im fine to drive”

She's always seemed like she's got it together, like she's on top of things, but maybe she's just really good at hiding how much she's suffering. Fuck how has he been so blind, he lives with her for tucks sake and didn't know anything was wrong till her body couldn't handle the strain anymore.

But anyways he lets her drive, he trusts her word that she's alright to drive.

This time she doesn't pick their usual Playlist, she spends a minute picking a specific one. They are songs he doesn't recognize, she's never played them for him before but he notices a pattern: they are all angry, not exactly In there beat but their lyrics.

They are halfway home when he notes her white knuckle grip on the wheel, he wonders what's going on in her head,what's she thinking. Then the song changes and as the lyrics start she sings along belting out the angry lyrics, but her grip on the wheel relaxes so he takes this as a good sign. This must be her way of releasing all the tension, getting the feelings out in a healthy way.

He can't help but be drawn to her voice, she may be singing angry words, but her pitch and passion, it reaches him in a way you wish every song would but only a few singers put enough of their pain into their work to have that effect. Her pain reaches him through her performance, and again he's amazed and wonders what weights she carries, what weight she hides so well.

That's when it finally clicks for him, before he'd always just thought awesome she lives alone has her own place but now for the first time since he moved in he wonders why.

They get home and unpacks the groceries without a problem then he notices she's still in the kitchen just staring down at the counter so he goes to check on her. He walks in and sees her gripping the counter, the white knuckle grip has returned.

Peter- “ y/n are you okay”

-silence-

Peter- “ y/n you there”

He doesn't wanna startle her by touching her but she's not responding, she's completely lost in her head, probably somewhere bad. He's got to snap her out of this, even if she swings on him that's fine he'll take it.

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she jumps at his touch, instantly spinning around to face him, winding up to punch him in the face. He sees the fist coming at him but stays still ready to take it. But the hit doesn't come, he opens his eyes and sees it's as if she's paused fist still In the air aimed at him. Then she starts shaking, breaths coming fast, too fast.

Peter- “ y/n it's okay, you're safe. Deep breaths okay”

She's able to convey care, comfort, and concern to him without her words but he's not skilled in conveying those things even with his words so he can't take the subtle route. He's gonna have to be straight up even if that means crossing this line of not asking and pushing they have.

Y/N-“ i…i… fuck”

Peter- “ come”

He puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her to the living room, she goes along with him with no resistance, still in her robot zombie-ish state but its starting to crack, she's starting to break. They sit on the couch/his bed and now he needs to ask, even though he doesn't want to cross this line and show just how much he cares.

Peter- “ y/n that guy how do you know him?”

He does know of she hears him or if she'll answer but he hopes she doesn't, just when he's about to give up hope she'll answer, she speaks.

Y/N-“ I was vulnerable, pathetic, hungry ”

How that she's opened up he doesn't risk pushing more and just waits.

Y/N-“i once had nowhere to go, but I had no one to call, I was using the locker room to shower and he found out. I was vulnerable and stupid and so I accepted his offer for a place to stay. I learned my lesson”

He gets a very bad feeling about this, something that just makes him feel sick and he doesn't even know the details, but his imagination is filling in the blanks. But he needs confirmation, if he's gonna make the guy pay he needs to know his sins.

He looks to her, she's digging her thumb nails into the tips of her pointer fingers, seeking pain he understands. She needs some relief before he asks anything else, before he gets the information out of her.

Peter- “ come on, let's have a smoke, okay?”

Y/N-“ yeah, that'd be nice”

He gets up, leading her along with him to the balcony, he lights up one and passes it to her then does his own. They just stand and smoke leaning against the railing together.

Y/N-“ need you to promise me something”

Peter- “ anything”

Y/N-“ don't let me leave tonight”

Peter- “ what?”

Y/N-“ don't let me go out tonight, don't let me leave the house okay?”

Peter- “ okay I promise”

Y/N-“ thank you”

He doesn't fully understand but she's asking something of him, something he's capable of doing so of course he'll say yes. He wonders why though, what's she gonna do if she leaves, and why stop her from doing that thing. But that's for another time, it's not needed now.

They've finished their cigarettes snubbing them out in the bowl she gave him to use out here.

Peter- “ I don't wanna push you but I need to know what he did to you”

Y/N-“ why what's it matter”

Peter- “ caused when I jump his ass I need know what to make him pay for”

Y/N-“ i.. can't… can't say that shit out loud”

She's starting to shake but this time she's not gripping the railing or pressing her nails into her fingers, she's just crying. Her mask has fallen and shattered as it hit the ground now. So he takes her back inside to the couch, he actually wishes she resisted a bit, showing some sign that she's sentient.

They sit together, he's racking his mind over what to say, how to do this, but comes up with nothing. Then he feels a thud on his side, she's now leaning on him, okay he can work with this. He puts an arm around her, scooches closer, tucking her against his side.This doesn't require words, this he can do. It's a bit odd and new giving physical comfort but it also feels nice, warm.

He's warm… smells like smoke… smells nice… this is nice… he'd really beat someone up for me… he cares… thank fuck he's here

Y/N-“ i can nod yes or no to questions”

She's willing to work with him, answer questions, thank fuck he didn't want to have to force answers out of her. Really didn't wanna see what comes after shaking and crying.

Peter- “ did he hit you?”

Y/N-“ yes”

Peter- “ ever make you bleed?”

Y/N-“ yes”

Peter- “ break a bone?”

Y/N-“ no… cracked a rib”

Peter- “ i don't wanna ask this y/n but I have to”

Y/N-“ i know”

Peter- “ did he rape you, do anything you didn't want”

She can't say the words, can't admit it, she just can't do it. She turns and looks up at him, closes her eyes tight and nods yes, waiting for his reaction as dred courses through her making her feel sick.

He can't think of anything to say, so he hugs her, glad to feel she's relaxed in his hold, even nuzzles her head against his chest. He tries to focus on her and not the rage coursing through him, no he'll save that for later when he's making that asshole eat his teeth.

She pulls back a bit, her retraction from him making him worried he's upset her, or she doesn't want to be touched anymore.

Y/N-“im..I'm sorry.. I'm crying all over you”

Oh she's worried about getting snot on him, fuck that's not an issue.

Peter- “ i don't care about mess, it's okay”

Y/N-“ you sure?”

Peter- “ i.. I can't offer you words but I can hold you”

Y/N-“this is good”

So he holds her as she cries into his shirt. But this has been going on too long, she needs to call down.

Peter- “ hey how about we put on a movie, a nice distraction huh”

Y/N-“that'd be good”

Okay perfect, he can do this, this is working. Put on a movie, a nice distraction from her mind.

He keeps an arm around her while he grabs the remote and opens Netflix.

Peter- “ what movie would you like?”

He puts on the movie she requests and is glad to see her looking up and actually watching it, the glazed distant look disappearing. Okay this is good, making progress, what else? Oh we're still in outside clothes, those jeans can't be cozy.

Peter- “ y/n do you wanna change get more comfortable”

She looks down checking herself, like she forgot what she is wearing. She's so spaced out.

Y/N-“ oh yeah, should do that”

She gets up and heads to her room. He takes the opportunity to change into pjs as well and waits for her to come back.

Y/N-“ Peter”

Hearing her call out his name has him up and running to her room instantly, he doesn't wait at the door and goes in. He doesn't see anything obviously wrong, she's just standing in front of a mirror, wearing less clothes than he'd like. He tries not to stare at her skin on display but then something catches his attention, scars, lots of straight scars.

Peter- “ y/n”

Y/N-“ he would tell me horrible things, most i know now are lies but there's one I can't get past”

He approaches tentatively, joining her by the mirror. He knows she's never this open with him usually, never shows this kind or vulnerability, she keeps what weighs on her to herself even if it hurts her, so this is a very big thing.

Peter- “ what'd he said”

Y/N-“ my scars are a kind of ugly nothing can change, No one will find me beautiful like this”

Peter makes note that the asshole's punishment will need to include giving him some long lasting scars, ones he won't be able to hide. How dare he tell her that, make her feel so bad about herself. How he can comfort her without making her uncomfortable, without saying something awkward and she's wearing so little physical comfort is off the table.

Peter- “ he's wrong, that's a lie”

She turns away from the mirror and looks up at him, eyes glassy, silent tears flowing. She almost looks hopeful, like she's longing for him to say more, because she desperately needs him to say more.

He's sees the desperation, sees she needs him to say more.Okay then, fuck, she's worth the risk, he hopes his words come out right.

Peter- “ your beautiful y/n scars and all, the way you shake your head to adjust your bangs, and how you push up your glasses, and scrunch your nose when you focus… your so adorable, don't listen to a thing that shit for brains said okay, your beautiful y/n take my word on that”

Y/N-“ Peter… you mean it”

Peter- “ i do”

Things changed so fast, he rushed in here worried and now this feels intimate, not because she's in a tank top and short shorts, but because he's just confessed and shown his true feelings. He's never done that before, the only truths he's given others are the cruel ones he yells while punching someone out.

Now he's stuck waiting, his heart's beating so fast, his palms sweating, he can't handle rejection from her. He's frozen waiting and all she's doing is staring up at him. Then she moves suddenly leaning in hugging him, he is too shocked by the sudden movement at first, once that passes he hugs her tightly, lifting her up.

Now his heart is racing for a whole new reason, no longer fear and anxiety but passion and delight.

Y/N-“ down, please”

Peter- “ oh sorry”

He puts her down and releases his hold on her, looking at her waiting for any sign showing that he's gone too far or hurt her, but she doesn't look upset.

Y/N-“ thank you, I know that wasn't easy”

Peter- “ yeah, but worth it right”

Y/N-“ very”

She finishes changing, putting on her hoodie and sweatpants, and heads to the door.

Y/N-“ we can finish the movie?”

Peter- “ yeah”

They head back out to the couch to finish the movie. She grabs the blanket hung over the edge of the couch and holds it waiting for him. She liked being close to him, it felt safe, comforting, and he's so warm.

She looks like she wants to say something, like she's waiting for something. But what?

Peter- “ what's up?”

Y/N-“ we can share the blanket?”

He sits down and stretches out resting his arms on the back of the couch.

Peter- “ come here”

He pats the space next to him, right next to him, he likes having her close too. He's a bit worried she won't take that space but luckily she does. Sits so close to him their thighs are touching, sides pressed together, he put an arm around her holding her to him. She spreads the blanket over them and plays the movie.

This is really nice, he never imagined having this with someone. Yeah today had shitty moments but it had its good ones too, and this is one he won't forget. Today they crossed a line and have dived into deeper waters, they are no longer just roommates, they are in a grey area that's unnamed and for now that's enough.

[pokenimagines]

NSFW Volo | Fic | Idk if this is too vague but can I get something with Volo lovingly bullying and teasing his SO and they get fed up and turn the tables on him?

This is pre mental breakdown on Volo's part, so enjoy. Also ehem...kabedon...KABEDON!

Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one! Content Warning: Dry Humping, Thigh Riding, Teasing, Kabedon

Rules | Discord Server (16+)

NSFW Volo: How the Turn Tables

Volo was, essentially, a charming asshole. He loved getting a rise out of you whenever he could. Just last week he had pulled you into his chest to help you "dodge" a wild pokemon. It was a Bidoof that was running around your legs. The entire thing had you flushed red as you tried stammering out a reply. Then he had the audacity to ask if you were running a fever and placed his forehead directly on yours to feel. You swore you could've fainted from just that alone.

Then yesterday, he was eating with you and noticed you had something on your hand. Volo grabbed your hand and licked a little bit of sauce off it before kissing the palm. You had frozen for a few minutes, not knowing what to do with this as he let you go. He then again tried to act concerned at your frozen state before commenting that you looked cute with a blush on your face.

Volo was slowly killing you, and you had no idea what to do about it. That's when you recalled something from back in your own world. A small trend that had circulated on a particular app, that you had a feeling would get a rise out of him. You had it all planned out as you waited for the next time for Volo to be in town.

It was late at night when you spotted him, sitting down by the cart, since Ginter had already retired to bed. This meant that poor Volo was having to deal with the night duty of watching the cart. Not that he had much to do since the village was relatively peaceful, so he just sat there and enjoyed the midnight air.

Everyone else in the village was asleep except for a few guards, but from where Volo was sitting it was a bit out of sight. So you walked over and crouched down in front of Volo, getting the man's attention.

"Ah, there you are...need to do a bit of shopping?" Volo asked, tilting his head with a smirk on his face. You chuckled and shook your head in response.

"Nah, I got the next day off, so I planned on relaxing...then I saw you and wanted to say hello." You said, pretending like you weren't going to do anything.

"And what did I do to deserve such an honor?" he asked, placing a hand over his chest.

"You were being you...however earlier today I was thinking about a trend that used to be big where I came from. Wanna see what it is? It's kinda like a game." You explained and Volo had his interest piqued.

"A game, from another world? You've peaked my curiosity." he said with a smile, sitting up a bit more, "Show me, please."

"Alright, so first you get both hands and entwine your fingers and make a fist with them both." You said, demonstrating it. Volo looked a bit untrusting as he did so, having a folded prayer hand pose, "Perfect, now you just stick your fingers up." You said, once again demonstrating.

Volo did so and the moment he did, you took your own hand and trapped his fingers in your grasp. You then pinned his arms above his head while you leaned closer to him. Your body was almost on top of his as you looked down at him. The position was something that you'd consider embarrassing, but the light blush on Volo's cheeks were worth it. You stuck out your tongue as you looked at him.

"I gotcha~" You sang, loving your mini victory over the man. Volo blinked owlishly at you as he processed what was doing on. Then he smirked, raising a knee and placing it between your legs.

"Are you so sure about that...you know you shouldn't start things you can't finish, especially not out in the open." Volo said, whispering the last part, as he leaned his face to be right against your ear. He blew some cool air into your ear, making you squeak and letting his hands go. You went to back up, but felt his hand wrapping around your hip as he dragged you to his lap.

"The guards never come by this area, you know." Volo said, his leg going between your leg as he pressed up against your sex. You groaned at the small amount of friction he was giving you. Your hips going to grind down on him as you tried getting more.

You covered your mouth, loving his Volo continuously rubbed his leg between your thighs, giving you just enough friction to drive you insane, "V-Volo...shouldn't be go somewhere else...?" You tried to fight back another groan as he placed his hands against your hips and pushed you further down onto him.

He relaxed his leg, sitting you down properly on his thigh now, "You were the one who started this...you do realize how crazy I am for you, right?" Volo said in your ear, moving your hips along his thigh and making you whimper. You knew he was a tease, but you didn't realize he wanted you enough to have you ride his thigh in plain sight. If someone looked out their window, they'd easily be able to see what was going on.

"D-didn't realize it w-was to this extent..." You said, panting as you felt a warm coil in your lower stomach.

"I know you're not dumb...but you might be a little dense." he said, taking one of your hands and placing it over his crotch. You could feel his erection straining through the fabric of his guild pants. You gasped at the size, realizing his cock was a bit larger then you thought; it shouldn't be too surprising judging by how tall Volo was.

You hesitantly ran your hand over his erection, rubbing his through the clothes. Volo bit his lip as he shook his thigh a bit, sending an almost vibration like feeling through you. You cursed under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried grinding against him some more.

"S-so good, Volo...almost there." You said, bucking your hips against his thigh. You didn't care if you were about to cum in your pants in the middle of the damn village, you were too horny and worked up to think things through. Volo chuckled at your desperate and needy expressions as you tried getting off on his thigh alone.

Then, like a fire coursing through you, the tension snapped inside of you. You had to bite down on your free hand in order to stop from making noises and alerting the entire village as to what you were doing. You groaned into your hand, trying to steady yourself with a few years in your eyes.

Volo bucked his hips into your hand before hissing. He grabbed your wrist and took you off him, "But you didn't finish...did you?" You said between short pants.

"As much as I'd love to, I have to be here for the rest of the night; I'd rather not make a mess in my pants." he admitted. HIs erection was almost painful, but he could probably manage. It was better than sitting in his own cum until the sun came up.

"You sure...we could go to my house or...?" You said, looking around, "I could uh...no it might be too public." You murmured the last part.

"Oh, what's on your mind?" Volo asked, already having an inkling.

"I could...suck you off..." You said, feeling bashful. Volo chuckled as he brought you down for a quick kiss.

"How naughty...but if you insist; we just have to be quiet about it. Wouldn't want a guard coming over and seeing my cock halfway down your throat." Now that had you shivering.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• Thank you for reading! Did you know we have a discord? It has everything from RPs, General Discussions, and even an 18+ area to go hog wild in! We even do announcements early for when the inbox is opening for requests, as well as other events! Come in and join us!

[i6keis]

tr characters as your older siblings

various!tokrev characs x reader

pls tell me if this is accurate enough 😭 haven’t posted for a very long time so i rushed one to make up for it hihi

is the type to enter your room just to randomly pose in front of the mirror or touch some stuff before leaving as if nothing happened.

“before you kick me out of your room, did you know that dolphins are the literal embodiment of ‘one eye open when i’m sleeping, one eye~’” “ow ow okay i’ll leave geez”

baji , ran , takemichi , sanzu , smiley, hanma

the strict but protective type. doesn’t really show their love through physical affections or flowery words. however, they help you in any way they can. be it picking you up from unsuccessful blind dates, telling you to get over your toxic bestfriend but will for sure talk to them in private, and even simple things such as helping you reach for something on the top shelf.

“just forget about the asshole. they’re not half as attractive as me anyway. want ice cream?” gently pats your head.

draken , rindou , izana , mitsuya , kakucho , takeomi , shinichiro , wakasa

acts like they’re five years younger than you. stubborn, often pisses you off, and you’re the one taking care of them. they have a clear pout on their faces when you’re scolding them about the forgotten laundry under their bed.

“come on, stop being so mad! i punched him because his face is so weird it needs a little fixing to do. it’s not like i got punched back.”

mikey , senju , sanzu , chifuyu

the one who snitches on you most of the times. there’s nothing more satisfying to them than seeing you get scolded by your parents. are most likely on the corner, hiding their laughter as they saw you getting lectured.

“mom, y/n has a boy/girlfriend!”

hanma , smiley , shion , peh-yan , takemichi, mikey

polar opposites with #2. clingy, sweet, and affectionate. would be like your bestfriend who roasts the people you hate with you. spoils you a lot! from foods you crave to stuff you have on your cart for way too long.

“what can you say about shopping? i heard there’s a new clothing line opened down the street! call?”

emma , chifuyu , kokonoi ( maybe not on the clingy side ) , hina , hakkai (more on the clingy side) , kazutora , ran, yuzuha, inui

serious, quite cold and distant type. wants nothing to do with you. fights are often and would always end up to them telling you to fuck off and never show yourself within their sight ever again. always makes you question if you’re really associated with each other in any way.

“yeah, yeah whatever. now fuck off.”

kisaki , south , taiju

respectful. the one who knows about privacy and self time. closes the door behind them when leaving your room, knocks on it before entering, and asking for your permission before touching your belongings. just a gentle older sibling.

“hi! you were sleeping a while ago so i didn’t bother waking you up. don’t worry i left some food downstairs. you want me to heat it up for you?”

hina , angry , kazutora , mitsuya, yuzuha

[syomi]

patience-> joker

pairing: joker x gn!reader

content: suggestive/ slightly nsfw but fluff

masterlist- series: windbreaker

"do you really need groceries, y/n?"

it's ten minutes past six, the day is whining down as you stroll through the stocked aisles of the supermarket. you won't be shopping at this hour but because of the giant asshole behind you, who eats house to house and waits until the last minute to tell you, "oh by the way, there's no food..."

you were obviously pissed off but you decided to cool it because the giant a.k.a your "boy toy" joker will fund your impromptu shopping spree. but you hated grocery shopping with him because he has no patience whatsoever. constantly grumbling a bunch of curses behind your back or swearing if you didn't look good from the back, he would leave. you tolerate his existence while shopping until joker randomly gets turned on.

you can't explain why it's always when you grocery shop. he jokes that's its something about you looking so domestic, simply bending over and searching for what you need gets him riled up. you rolled your eyes when he said that but you believe when your legs are folded and pressed to your chest, as you sing mantras after he claims you to be his house[spouse].

"is that even question, you jerk?"

he shrugs and puts his weight on you like some big dog,"you can leave the cart full and all... c'mon let's go back to the car."

your eyebrow quirked up in the audacity of this six foot and above, horny man attempting to convince you into give him what he wants. your lips curl before you spat roughly,"you just need your dick wet right? why don't you handle in the car like a dog and just wait there until i get back." your fingers held the keys out for him but he laughs at your harshness.

"its not fun without you." he smirks, whispering in your ear,"m'not liking your tone towards me, you should remember what happened last time. from all that stress from work, you probably dropped a screw and forgot all about the consequences of that attitude."

your throat goes dry as the memories flood your mind. you could curse him with the vulgarity of a market vendor but you had a better idea, wanting to push his limits into getting what you want.

"mhm, maybe i did forgot but you can remind me if you are able to have self control and wait." your lashes flutter to hypothesize him into a bet.

"what are you trying to propose?" he questions.

"well-" you started," if you allow me to shop and put up the groceries, we can do the thing you mentioned."

his face glares straight into yours. there's a brewing tension like if you tested a beast but you aren't a little lamb either. he didn't verbal agree but the kiss on your temple sealed the deal. your smile big as a slice of orange, you won.

for the rest of the spree, joker was silent but the tension gotten thick and condensed. his hands in his pocket, shift his junk to curtail the print from public eye but his eyes bore into your back. the bit of peace you had was nice as it lasted until you guys finished packing up the groceries.

your car is parked in a darker and more secluded area of the parking lot. your biggest mistake was allowing him to drive back to your place because he held the car hostage.

"i did what i was told to do... now it's my turn."

you protested and mentioned that's not how the bet goes but joker's patience is practically non existent. that stupid smirk that makes your stomach churn in glee. his hands wasted no time to be on your body.

"h-hey! we are still in public!"

joker hums in a nonchalant tone," give 'em a show."

[nightowlfandom]

Yandere! Hawks (Keigo Takami) - Scratches and Bruises

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright I’ll do it...I’LL WRITE HAWKS SMUT....but I won’t like it.

Okay people so This is gonna have talks of death, abuse, yandere shit.

Leggo!

...

“What’s a pretty girl like you do sad for?”

You looked up from your phone to find a man practically leaning over the restaurant table. You could smell the alcohol from miles away and the way he was moving wasn’t helping his case either. You were instantly put off by him. Correction: You were disgusted by him.

“What’s a ugly man like you so bold for?” you smiled sweetly as the venom dripped off your words. “I’m really not interested.” you looked back down at your phone. You were just about to get a new high score on your favorite phone game and this asshole was ruining your chances. Your character almost died twice since he began bothering you. It was really starting to get on your nerves. If you didn’t unlock that new skin, you might kill someone.

“Oh come on.” he slurred. “Can a guy just compliment such a pretty lady?”

“Not when he looks like fucking Voldemort.” you replied just as quickly as he ended his sentence. “You’re kind of bothering me right now.” you pressed pause on your game and looked up again. “I’ll ask again. What do you want, seriously?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a guy at one of the booths, staring over at you. It didn’t feel creepy, but it was enough to capture your attention. 

“I wanted to-”

“What do you want?” you cut him off again. “We’re wasting time here.” you threw your phone on the table. “Save me the headache and save your ego...” you crossed your arms. you faked a smile. “Goodbye.”

“You bit-”

“Is there a problem?” 

A new person walked up to you two. The same guy who you had noticed before stopped in front of your table. He had sandy brown hair, and very sharp looking eyes. You swore you’ve seen him somewhere. You weren’t too sure.

“Nothing buddy, just about to show this bitch who she’s talking to-”

You crossed your arms and shifted around in your seat. “I mean I don’t need to be shown anything.” you shrugged.

“Oh are you?” he laughed. “Well I hate to break it to you but I’ll have to intervene” the stranger laughed out loud. 

“What do you mean-”

The drunk was instantly floored as this stranger grabbed his by the neck and slammed his face against the table not even an inch away from your phone. The drunk landed on the floor with a thud, moaning in pain. You weren’t even sure if he was registering the pain he was in or the fact that he had gotten his ass handed to him in the first place. All that you knew was that he was being peeled off the floor and escorted (more like thrown out.).

“You’re welcome, lady.” the guy didn’t take another look at you before be took a step forward. 

“I didn’t need your help.” you snatched your phone off the desk. “I can take care of myself.” you rolled your eyes. “And I wasn’t gonna thank you, either.” you stood up. “I’m definitely not going to now.”

The man slowly turned around, revealing his face clearly. “Oh really?” 

He was attractive, no doubt about it. His tight black muscle tee with baggy jeans and boots...damn he was a looker. Yet you weren’t like most MC’s...it would take a bit more than that for him to have any impact on you.

“Really.” you repeated. You put a hand on your hip. “Now if you’ll excuse me...I’m off to find another table to sit at.”

The man who ‘saved’ you didn’t take his eyes off you all night. Even when your friends came and joined you. 

“Hey Y/N, is that Keigo Takami looking at you?”

“I think it is!” another friend piped.

“Who?” you stared at her as you lowered your drink. “Who is Keigo Takami?”

“Y’know...Hawks.” she whispered. “I heard they call him that when he served time...” 

“He’s a literally crazy person. He’s an absolute menace! He’s a former hero...”

“Can imagine why...he beat the shit out of this guy who tried to hit on me.”

“Him?! I haven’t heard of him ever doing that for anyone before.” your other friend widened her eyes. “Y/N, I’ve heard of his past relationships...they didn’t end well. They all ended up missing...or in therapy.”

“I can take care of myself.” you shrugged. “I’m sure whatever Hawks has for me, I can take.”

“Don’t say that so freely, Girl. I heard he has a lot of screws loose.” your friend put a hand on your shoulder. “Like a lot.”

“Well whatever Mr. Man has in store for me, I’ll be prepared. It can’t be that bad, right?” your confidence dispersed a little bit. You looked behind you back at Keigo who had been cracking open a can of beer. He looked a little to interested in his own world to see you staring. 

“Y/N...Y/N!” your friend snapped her fingers in your face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah!” You focused back on your friends, feeling your emotions sort of switch. 

From the corner of the room, Keigo’s eyes followed you. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you. Never in his life had he ever seen a girl like you before. He had never been so...fascinated either. Something inside him snapped, he had to get to know you.

He had to.

...

“Is there a reason  you’re following me?”

On a trip to the supermarket, you couldn’t help but voice your opinions. Keigo was hiding in behind a display of cans whilst you stared at the cheese. Hmmm Cheddar or American? Maybe Havarti! Hmm Pepperjack? Why were there too many types of cheeses?! Too many options!

“You have a very keen eye.” he revealed himself. “I like that.” he began walking along side down down the aisle. “Try this one, it’s the best on burgers.” he grabbed a package of Pepperjack cheese and tossed it in the cart.

“I’m just very aware.” you replied boredly. “It comes with the territory.” you opted to ignore him trying to shop for you. 

“Of being a hero?” 

His words made you freeze. You hadn’t been a hero in years, let along thought about it. It had been so long...

“I hung up my cape years ago.” you rebutted. Your tried to keep your voice steady, but he could tell his words affected you. It made you wonder how he even knew that.

“I can say the same.” he winked. “Only I traded the cape for...other things.”

“I can tell...Hawks.” you grumbled in reply. “That’s what they used to call you right?”

Keigo knew you were challenging him. Part of him was angry, others not so much. He was interested to say the least. No one dared call him that anymore. Hell, no one lived long enough to even finish such a sentence. What made you so different? You had guts...he liked that.

“Yeah...that part of my life is over now.” he began following you down the aisle. “What about you? Why’d you give up hero work?”

“That’s not something I want to discuss with a stranger in the middle of the store.” 

“I get it...how’s 7:00 sound?”

“Pardon me?” You and your cart skid to a stop. “What did you just say to me?”

“I’ll meet you at the bar we met around 7! Don’t be late, and tell the bartender Takami Keigo is gonna be waitin’ for ya.” he winked. “Don’t leave me waiting princess...”

“I don’t even know you!” you were taken aback. “You don’t even know my name...”

Keigo’s face twisted into a smirk. He took a step towards you. You flattened yourself against the aisle wall as he trapped you against the cereal. “So tell me...What’s your name?”

“Huh?!”

“For a hero...you’re pretty dense.” he chuckled, nearing his face closer. “I asked your name, Hun.” he winked. “Won’t you tell me?”

“Y/N.” you replied breathlessly. “My name is Y/N.” Why did you tell him that, you had no clue. Idiot!

“Okay then Y/N.” he neared his face towards yours. “7:00 tonight...okay?”

“Uh huh.” you nodded. 

“Wonderful, I’ll see you tonight, princess.”

... 

You sat at the bar stool, spinning around lazily. You called all of your friends, your parents, hell even your grandparents. You didn’t tell them the details, but you told them if you didn’t message them back by 9:00 AM the next morning, call you just in case.

“What can I get you?” the barkeep walked up, wearing a kind smile on his face. You suddenly remembered that Keigo had told you, and you didn’t trust it one bit. “Can I get a water please?” 

“Coming right up, young lady.” the older man kindly looked at you. “Anything for the former Number 1 hero!”

You giggled bashfully. “Please, that was years ago.” you shook your head. “I appreciate it though.” you smiled. Hero work, the bane of your existence. Your past buddies and partners had all begged you not to leave, but with the amount of scars and suffering you endured, you had no choice.

You wouldn’t put yourself through that again, not for anyone. 

“Here you are miss.” the glass was set in front of you. 

“Thanks.” you put your hand over the top of the glass. Now that it was in yoru hand, you could move accordingly. “I was also supposed to meet someone here?...Told me to tell you to expect me...Keigo Takami?”

The barkeep’s face fell, fear striking his features. “O-oh! You’re Mr. Takami’s company for the night! I’m supposed to escort you to his special booth.”

“Special booth?” you repeated.

“Y-yes, please follow me!” he urged. “Only VIPs are allowed back here, but he rented out the entire back area just for you!”

You felt your senses go off, fight or flight mode. Now or never. You reached in your purse. Knife, check. Mace, check....Gun...check.

The kind barkeep took you to a back area. It looked like the main dining area, only a lot more high end. Slow jazz music was playing in the background and the lights were low. He was right, there was no one here...except one person.

He dawned a brown leather jacket, black skinny jeans and those all to familiar boots. He tapped his fingers against the table as he stared down at his phone.

“Mr. Takami. She’s here.”

Keigo looked up with that shit-eating smirk. “Thank you Hideo, leave us.”

The barkeep stalked off leaving you alone. You suddenly felt out of place. You looked around, taking note of the city beaming outside the windows. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” 

You looked back over at Keigo again, almost surprised. “Yeah, it is.” you nodded.

He motioned next to him. “You wanna sit down or are you gonna stand there staring at me? I don’t bite.” he winked.

Silently, you sat down, still keeping your distance from the man. You were about a good two feet away from him. You weren’t too keen on getting any closer.

“I’m surprised you came. I thought you’d find a way to get out of this.”

“I am too, but I figured I’d entertain this idea...just for tonight.” you shrugged. “Don’t try anything, got it?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Keigo cracked a genuine smile. You looked stunning and he wanted to tell you that. He wouldn’t admit it, but he knew about you when you were going by your hero alias. He recognized the way you walked, the way you spoke. You could have killed that freak who hit on you if you wanted to. However you didn’t. He was curious about that.

“Why did you ask me out?” you raised an eyebrow before he could get a word out.

“I’ll let you know in a minute.” he winked. “I’m more interested in you.”

“Like what?” you raised an eyebrow. “How interesting can I be?”

Keigo didn’t want to say he did extensive research on you and couldn’t find shit. It drove him crazy. It was making him go quite literally insane. He was more that interested. He was invested. When he didn’t answer, you sighed.

“You tell me first.” you crossed your arms. “I know your reputation proceeds you.” you raised a brow.

“Princess, that’s not how this works.” he tried to sound as if he was joking. “I ask the questions here.”

“Well it is today.” you shrugged. “Either we have an even exchange or you’re out of luck.” you shrugged. “You decide.”

Keigo stared blankly at you. You were a tough nut, that was for sure. Plus you sure as hell weren’t afraid of death. That must have meant you had no idea what he was capable of. Then again, it must have been your Hero Side taking a stance.

After what felt like a minute, he sighed in defeat. “...A friend of mine was killed by a hero.” he confessed. “You ever hear of someone called The Bronze Monk?”

“That name sounds familiar?” you raised an eyebrow. “He’s another hero, right? He can turn his fists into bronze.” You tried to recall.

“Mhm...He killed my friend.” Keigo clenched his fist. “I did 6 years because of him....”

“I don’t understand.” you raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with you?”

“This was while you were dominating the game I guess, so I don’t blame you for not knowing.” he shrugged and he slapped a hand on the table. “HIDEO! TWO BEERS.”

“So I’m confused. I heard The Bronze Monk died mysteriously...he fell from over 500 stories...”you paused. You took to time to noticed that Keigo has aired out his wings this time around. You didn’t even noticed he HAD wings. “It was all over the-...wait a second...You never said who your friend was.”

“She was a- she was a villain.” Keigo sighed. “She was like a sister to me and I was tryna get her to stop being so dumb...turn over a new leave and she was doing so well! Shit, but...one day she dumbly got into a fight with that asshole and I watched my friend die right there.” Keigo hitched his words slightly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” you said sadly, regretting opening your big mouth. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No...it’s fine. I guess in order to move on I gotta talk about it right?” he sat up straight as the barkeep came back with two mugs and quickly stalked back off. “I was so blinded by my own anger. What type of hero would go out of their way to punish someone trying to make amends....” he seethed. “I flew him up to the tallest building in the city and dropped him...I only got off on good behavior...”

It finally all made sense, to you at least. You let what he said marinate and sit well...it felt surreal.

“So.” Keigo grabbed his glass and took a huge gulp. “I’ve said my peace. You’re turn.”

You stared at this guy for what felt like ages. Something told you that this guy couldn’t be trusted. All the alarms were going off at the same time...but for some reason-

“My parents wanted me to be a hero.” you said. “My quirk is hereditary, so it’s passed from person to person.” you shrugged. “I loved saving people, helping people...then-” you paused. “I saw how corrupt, and hateful, and disgusting these so-called heroes were...I lost someone important to me too.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested. You took a swig of beer, trying to gather your thoughts. 

Keigo took note of the way you were fiddling with your left hand. Your thumb grazed over your ringer finger as if something was missing...something important.

“Who was the guy?” Keigo asked, snapping you out of your trance. He had a gut feeling he already knew, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“...H-he was um...we dated since high school.” you shrugged. “We were a team, him and I.” you smiled at the memory. “When he turned his back on the hero world, they turned their back on him too.”

“Meaning?”

“They sold him out.” you choked. “They left him for dead and told me he would be okay. I should have gone back for him but they held me back, they told me there were other people that needed my help.”

“What happened when you learned the truth?” Keigo asked. He only knew that a poor hero lost his life, he didn’t know that the only other survivor just so happened to be his future wife.

“I had to choose...my friends and my morals or being a hero. If anyone knows just how two faced and conniving these people are, it’s me.” you shuddered. “I’ve met traitors, and killers disguised as good guys. At one point I couldn’t take it anymore and I gave up! Forget being number 1, forget status, forget everything...Being a hero...lost me everything.”

“Hm. Thank you for sharing that with me, Princess.” he replied. “It must have been hard to do...it’s nice to know you trust me so much.”

“It was only fair, I guess.” you boredly drank. “It not that big a deal.” you stared down at your fingers. “It was years ago, I’ve moved on.”

Keigo took note of how your mood faltered. He couldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me?”

“Hm?” you looked up from your glass.

“I’m sure where ever your fiancé is, whatever he’s up to. He doesn’t blame you.” he put a hand over yours. “He wouldn’t hate you for moving on either.”

“He wouldn’t?” you narrowed your eyes. “How do you know?”

Keigo couldn’t answer, he just wanted to say something, anything, to put a smile on your face. It was like a second nature in such a short time. He wanted to be your hero. “It’s just a hunch...you shouldn’t be afraid to move on...sometimes all you need is a push out the nest.” he winked as his wings twitched behind his back.

“Bird humor? Really?” you scoffed.

“It’s what I do, princess.”

...

After the heavy and depressing, you don’t think you laughed that hard in years. 

“Wait hold on.” you stopped laughing. “Pause for a minute! You, with those big ass wings got your ass handed to you by some chump named ‘The weather man?’” you were crying from laughing so hard.

“He could control the wind!” he defended, also laughing. “You shoulda seen it!”

“Well maybe you need to exercise your quirk more.” you crossed your arms.

“As if you’re the master of your own.” he playfully rolled his eyes.

“As a matter of fact, I am!” you raised an eyebrow. “Shall I demonstrate?” you scooted out the booth and stood up. “Don’t blink or you might miss it.”

Keigo leaned back in his seat, now very interested in what you were about to display for him. He watched your eyes narrow in focus as you held your hands out in front of your face. Slowly, a very tiny tornado formed in your hands, small and handheld. This mini tornado was soon replaced by a tree sprouting out of the top. You waved your hand around and miraculously summoned rain out of your palm. 

“Okay Y/N, focus.” you mumbled. Suddenly, out of everything, a flame erupted from the center of your hand. 

He watched in awe, he had never heard of anyone with a quirk like this one before. With another flick of the hand, everything you had summoned disappeared. “Ta-da!”

“That was amazing.” he commented as your sat down. “What was that??”

“I come from a long line of ‘benders’. Funny name, I know.” you giggled. “I can bend another element...spirit. I can only do it when I’m really happy though.”

“Why didn’t you try that one?”

“...I said I can only do it when I’m happy.” you smiled sadly. It didn’t take long for Keigo to catch on. 

“Oh.” he raised a brow. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s alright.” you shook your head. “Ever since...he died...I’ve never been able to do it.” you shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to.”

“I’d love to witness that.” Keigo laced his fingers within yours, making your face heat up. “I bet it’s beautiful.”

“...S-shush.” you scoffed, looking away bashfully.

Suddenly the song changed, a slow jazz song began playing. A slow beat, with soft drums and what you could describe as a romantic saxophone.

“Dance with me.” he held out his hand. 

You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully as you took his hand and stood up. He guided you to the middle of the floor. he pulled you flush against his chest. The slow music seemed to drown out the hustle of the city noise outside. He hummed thoughtfully, singing to the tune for you. 

“You never told me.” you mused as you two moved in sync.

“Told you what, princess?”

“Why did you ask me out?”

“Truth be told, something drew me to you.”

“Like what?” you innocently stared. “What about me could possibly interest you?”

“Out of everything you’ve told me, everything really.” he bit his lip. “You’re amazing, everything about you.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself, Keigo.” you shyly replied. You turned around and rested your back against his chest. He rested his head in the divot of your shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you along to the music. 

He was right, he wouldn’t leave you, not now. Not ever. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it, princess.”

“If I admitted I was wrong about you, would you hold it against me?”

Keigo nearly froze. A shock was sent up his spine as the words left your lips. “You shouldn’t say things like that, princess.”

“How come?” you turned around to face him. 

“I want to-” he bit his lip. A gentle hand rested on the base of your neck, his thumb caressing your throat. He laid a kiss on your lips, passion dripping off of every peck. His tongue slipped through the small gap as he moaned against your mouth. You whimpered and shivered feeling his tongue dominate your mouth. He responded with sounds of his own. Shaky breathes and low groans.

You responded to his touch, allowing his hands to travel under your shirt. “Keigo.” you whimpered. Your feverishly ran your hands through his hair, practically gluing your bodies together. You felt his fingertips creep under shirt, dancing across your skin. “W-we can’t do this here.”

“You’re totally right.” he didn’t cease, instead opting to kiss down your neck. “So...my place or yours.”

You felt yourself lose all sense of direction. “Y-yours.”

“You’ve just opened up Pandora’s Box, princess.”

...

You fell back on his bed, crawling backwards. He rid himself of that jacket and his shirt, leaving him to flex his muscles, his wings, and everything. You stared up, trembling in anticipation. 

Your friends would probably kill you, but you didn’t particularly care. You hugged yourself, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. 

Keigo loved it. It meant you still had innocence flowing in your veins, not for long. He would toy with your brain. He would bend you to his will and drive you insane with lust. You would be the perfect sidekick for him. He stalked over to you, biting his lip. 

“Look at you.” he mused. “You’re so cute.” he giggled. He rested a knee at the edge of the bed, beginning to crawl towards you. 

You noticed his wings were spread wide, covering over you two like a shield.

“C-can I?”

“Go ahead Princess.” he smiled knowingly. He had the look as if he knew something you didn’t. You reached a trembling hand to gently brush his beautiful feathers. A low groan erupted from his throat.

“Oh my gosh! Am I hurting you?” you almost withdrew your hand back.

“Don’t stop...please.” he growled lowly. 

It was only then you realized, this was turning him on. You ran your hands through his feathers. They were soft, shiny even. 

“Enough!” he grabbed your hand and pinned it above your head. “Look at you, princess. All ready for me.” he laughed. “I wonder how wet I can make that pussy for me.” he used his other hand to fumble with the button of your jeans.

You trembled under his touch, feeling your pants slide down your legs. You were completely drowned in your own lust. A fire was prominent in your chest. You were shaking under his fingertips. 

“Enjoy this, princess.” he winked before crawling down. He lifted your shirt up and planted little kisses along your stomach. He grabbed the hem of your panties with his teeth and pulled them down. 

You were squirming in anticipation, waiting. 

“You smell so...so-” he didn’t finish his sentence because he had drove his tongue up your slit. A gasp escaped your lungs. Absentmindedly, you had grabbed a fist full of his hair. 

“Fuuuh~” you couldn’t speak. You weren’t even sure he’d be able to hear your over the sound of your wetness. You could feel your water dribble down your thighs. 

“Wrapped your legs around my head.” he growled, digging his nails into your thighs. “Grind that pussy against my tongue, princess.” 

You thrashed against his mouth, feeling warmth gather in the pit of your stomach. “Keigo!”

He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, making you cry out even louder. 

Keigo felt himself lose touch with everything, he was only focused on you in the moment. Fuck, was he hard too. Hearing your moans. Shit, he couldn’t wait to bury himself into you. 

“Baby, do you hear that?” he looked up at you as he promptly replaced his tongue with his fingers. “Listen.” he pumped his fingers into you. “You sound so fucking cute” he groaned, mimicking your soft whimpers. “It feels good, yeah?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded. 

Suddenly, he yanked his fingers out of you. His head fell forward to rest on your pubic bone. He sounded as if he came just now even if it was you getting all the pleasure. 

Like a predator stalking after it’s prey he meet your eyes. He wore a sadistic grin with his bottom lip taken between his teeth. He sat up, fumbling with his belt buckle. 

“You ready for me, princess?”

“Yes, p-please?” you whimpered. 

Fuck, you couldn’t do that to him. He had a mind to tear you apart where you lay. Your jaw went slack as his cock was released from its restraints. Would that even- Inside you?! 

You felt it brush against you, slightly. You met his eyes and froze there. He was staring down at you. He looked absolutely feral. You could barely look away as he slid himself inside your throbbing hole. He painfully slowly rolled his hips into you. He twitched inside as he bucked his hips into you. 

“Look at how good we fit together. That’s right.” he managed through clenched teeth. “My cock was meant to be here. I was meant to fuck you.” he snarled. 

You tightened around his length as he thrust harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” His jaw dropped again. “Say my name, please?”

“K-keigo.” you obeyed. You felt a warmth in your chest as well as your core. It was like a fire was being ignited in the pit of your soul. “I’m gonna-”

“Fuck! Don’t finish that sentence.” he snarled. “You don’t wanna know what I’m gonna do as a result.”

In a swift motion, you were suddenly staring down at Keigo. He had a death grip on your legs as he was now thrusting upwards. You had your hands on his chest in an attempt to support yourself.

“I think I like you more when you’re riding me.” he bit his lip. “You look so fucking sexy. Those moans, that body, your pretty fucking pussy-”

“Keigo, please! I can’t it anymore.”

“Oh yeah, you gonna cum? You wanna cum for me, baby?” he spoke in a babyish voice. “You wanna cum all over Papa Bird’s cock? Do it, do it for me...ARGH FUCK!”

You felt his warmth inside you at the exact same time you had came. He was shaking under you, rolling his hips upwards to relieve the friction he had caused. 

Keigo stared in amazement at a bright light erupted from your chest, a small bird in the shape of smoke began flying around the room.

“That would be spirit.” you laughed tiredly, watching the quirk you had thought died reactivate out of nowhere. 

“I hope you know...you can never leave me now.” Keigo sat up to lay kisses on your neck. “You’re mine now.”

(AND DONE! This was Hawks debut on the blog so lets all give hem a huge hello!)

[beann-e]

MHA Characters reacting to you forgetting something at the store

Read Part Two Here

Bakugou

-he’s so fun to write because he’s almost always pissed at everything so i’m guessing you can already sense the energy he has when you say you forgot something

- i’m sure you don’t even have to tell him he can just feel it

Your hands were sweaty as your grip tightned and loosened on your jeans. Hands moving up and down grabbing them in fistfuls. Your teeth grazing against the inside of your mouth as you chewed at it.

Heart racing , head growing hot as you took in a shaky breath.

“ babe yo— “

‘ oh shit he knows ‘

you heard the deep grunt that shook you even more in your seat causing you to shake in fear “ y/n “

“ h-huh “

“ what the fuck did you forget this time “

you smiled softly lips jerking up into a ridged smile instead of a soft one

“ forget ? I don’t — babe I didn’t forget anything “

“ don’t fuck with me y/n “

his voice was harsh “ what did you forget “

you looked to the car mat as you let your words out softly “ d-dinner “

his jaw dropped open as he sat in shock repeating after you

“ d-dinner “ it took him a minute to register what you just said still not registering as you bit at your lip

“ y/n please answer me carefully when I say these next few words “ his grip on the steering wheel tightned

“ you forgot dinner “

“ yes “

“ we went to the store for groceries “

“ yes “

“ for dinner “

“ no “

“ for dinner “ he said louder not wanting to hear your lie again

“ yes “

“ ok so why did you not get dinner “

“ b-because I — I forgot I went In and I didn’t get anything that I said I was going to I got side tracked i’m sorry i’m sorry “

he shook his head in understanding calming down “ yeah — yeah gotcha “

he moved his hands to play a drumbeat on the steering wheel “ no dinner —- got it babe — theres snacks in my backseat but no din din got it “

his voice soared as he just got even more pissed when thinking about what just happened

“ then why the fuck did you let me drive all the way home y/n ? “

he moved to point at his dashboard “ gas baby gas cost money “

he was fuming “ money that I don’t feel like spending on gas — who the fuck wants to drop 40 on gas that won’t even last “

you moved to look out the window “ ok well you don’t have to be sucha meanie about it “

“ BABE YOU FORGOT DINNER “

“ well some people forget more meaningful things “

“ DINNER IS NOT MEANINGFUL TO YOU “ his eyes were wide open as he stared at you in pure shock

you sighed as you tapped your foot on the floor

“ I think some people are just extremely dramatic — we can just go back we have enough gas right now “

“ and you don’t even care “ he let out a small scoff

“ I am in pure amazement that your sitting here — even while i’m driving back to the store—without a care in the world that you were so afraid to speak that you were gonna let us starve until you felt like saying something “

“ hey — at least I said something before you got out of the car “

“ give me the card “

“ what but kats “

“ no your shopping privileges are revoked “

you pouted as you opened your wallet pulling out your family card before placing it in his hand looking up at him “ kats can you get “

“ no “

“ but “

“ i’m sticking to the list “

“ but I just want some ice cream “

he looked at you like you’d just commited a federal crime as his eyes slanted at you

“ as much shit as you brought out the store i’ll be damned if I buy you ice cream “

he moved to open the car door reaching over the driver seat to point at a bag that was open and falling over “ you forgot dinner but bought fucking raisins babe ? how does that make sense? “

“ they looked lonely on the shelf — and I had a sudden craving “

you watched as he rolled down the windows a little before slamming the car door mumbling to himself that he was the new grocery shopper and why did he even allow you to go on your own just for you to spend his money on nonsense — his hard earned money

he cursed you as your voice came out loud through the window crack

“ ICE CREAM BABE — ice crea— “

“ i’m not getting you fucking ice cream you shitty shopper “

you slumped back in your seat crossing your arms as everyone stared at the interaction happening in front of them.

You ignoring them and playing on your phone

you were used to the stares

people didn’t understand how you and your boyfriends relationship worked if you two just went back and forth all the time

they didn’t understand your love that was wrapped up in every disagreement

A case and point of that is when you watched your husband walk back to the car.

His hands full of bags showing off the fact that he didn’t need a cart as he shoved everything in the backseat switching between that and the trunk until he got in the car a small bag tucked into his lap as he sat down

Putting on his seatbelt throwing a bag that slapped you across your face and fell into your own lap

“ eat it and fucking enjoy because “ you watched as he reversed the car head turned back and arm behind the head of your seat

His eyes occasionally sweeping over you

“ it’s salad for the next few weeks since I had to go in the store — I got what I like and your gonna fucking enjoy it “

“ but kats I don’t want salad I wanted pasta I went to the store to get pasta “

his eyes fell on yours as he finally turned back around to put the car in drive voice low as he moved his hand to sit on your thigh squeezing it as he waited for traffic to pass “ or just starve fuck if I care “

You sighed out as you grabbed the spoon that was attached to the packaged icecream his eyes watching you with interest as you smiled brightly after your first spoonful.

He sighed out in happiness as he shook his head

“ god — even after you wasted my gas, made me go In the store and interact with assholes, and even fucking forgot my dinner “

he laughed as he thought about his next words “ I don’t — I don’t love you any less instead I love you more “

[redheadedpineapple]

BNHA bois responding to getting gifts outta nowhere

Day 13: Gift/Present Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki, Shotou Todoroki GN!Reader

────── 〔Kirishima Eijirou〕──────

this precious boy literally expects you to exist and that’s enough for him

but nahnahnah, you go ahead and be THAT awesome and THAT kind

and THEN you buy him gifts? all for the sake of you seeing it and thinking of him?

his heart goes doki doki

will freak out and get all red in the face and thank you so many times

100% ends in lots of cuddles and "i love you"s and "what'd i do to deserve you"s

followed by immediately wanting to reciprocate

he’s not the most artsy guy, but when he had the idea, he couldn’t let it go

when you said you got him the gift just cause you thought he'd like it when you saw it at the store, he thought of what you liked

He needed a lot of help from Mina and Momo, and while Momo offered to simply, uh, pop the gift out of her skin, Kirishima knew it wouldn’t be the same. So, with the minor help of material gathering from Momo and the craftiness of Mina, he was finally done with the gift.

The stitchwork was a bit messy, but he was really proud of the creation. He still thought it was pretty cute, and he could only hope you felt the same.

He couldn’t wait to see your reaction, and barely contained all his excitement into a bright, confident grin as he offered you the gift box.

“You didn’t have to give me anything back!” you exclaimed, looking down at the box.

That only prompted his grin to widen. “I wanted to though! Open it, open it.”

“Okay, okay.” Carefully peeling away the ribbon and wrapping paper, your excitement only grew as you tried to keep the mess to a minimum despite your bubbling anticipation. The little teddy bear in a red hoodie made your heart melt, and as you picked it up out of the box and hugged it, it smelled just like Eijirou.

He stared at you, expectantly and a tad embarrassed how much you were hugging it and smiling.

“I made it myself! I know you really liked the red hoodie I wear, but since it had a bunch of tears and holes and burns in it, I thought I could put it to better use… Plus I can always get more hoodies.”

“I love it so, so much! It’s so cute, I--- Awh, baby…” You pushed yourself into his arms and hugged him tight. “You’re so sweet… I love you so much.”

He couldn’t contain how happy he was that you liked his gift, giggling and hugging you and resting his cheek on the top of your head. “I love you too!”

────── 〔Bakugou Katsuki〕──────

okok look,,, he struggles accepting and portraying love

but gifts? he can do gifts

at first, when you present it to him, he’s internally trying to figure out if he’s missed an important date

“aah? for me?”

“no, the other bakugou katsuki right behind you.”

and he’ll roll his eyes because oh shush, but he opens it and tries to hide a wide smile

“i got it just cause i thought of you when i saw it!”

“you’re such a dork”

will ruffle your hair, pretending like he’s not touched

you’ll poke his cheek and insist he loves you

and he’ll kiss your forehead and you’ll both move on with your days

he cherishes the gift, though, and will keep it in a special place at all times.

if it’s jewelry, he says fuck it and wears it every day.

if it’s a stuffed animal, you bet your ass he sleeps with it.

a keychain? added to his keys.

a random trinket? it’s now on his nightstand or in his car, where he sees it often.

and it’s his turn to show his love to you.

Bakugou understands the value of handmade stuff, but hell if he’s gonna figure out how to be all craftsy and do that shit. Nah, he’ll pick up extra hours to get the cash he needs to buy you something lavish.

He really isn’t good with showing how he loves you, he can be pretty stubborn and sometimes doesn’t really get how to cuddle you or randomly show you he’s there and loves you through little touches, but he comprehends stuff like this really well. It’s straightforward.

He puts a lot of thought into what he wants to get you, spending hours just browsing online shops. If anyone saw him, he probably looked like he was playing some video game, a focused, unintentional pout tracing his lips. But finally, after lots of research, he finally knows what he’s going to get you.

Honestly, you really don’t expect much in return from Bakugou; not because he’s an asshole or anything (although yes, he is at times), but more because he doesn’t exactly get reciprocating in gifts or anything. Some random classmate he hardly knows gets him a present? Hell if he’s buying shit back for them. Someone buys him lunch? Cool, he gets free lunch.

So when he presents you with a gift box weeks later, you’re pleasantly surprised, and a little lost for words.

“Well? Go on, open it.”

You don’t keep him waiting, tearing through the pretty poorly taped on wrapping paper. (He tried his best, it probably took him all he had not to explode the entire damn box out of annoyance to the sticky tape and crinkly wrapping paper that just didn’t do what he wanted it to.)

Opening the box, you couldn’t contain a gasp, even if you wanted to. Smiling, you unfolded the clothes and inspected the shoes. It was a couple outfits that matched the aesthetic you’d been on about loving, talking about how you never thought you could pull it off. Katsuki always told you that you could easily, and that you shouldn’t worry, but you always waved it off.

As you got to the bottom of the box, you found a smaller box, the type that snaps open with a dull and velvety ‘click.’ It did just as you expected when you opened it, and inside held a pair of promise rings, matching the aesthetic of the clothes.

“Oh, Katsu… I love it so much!” You gawked at everything he got you, pulling out one of the rings and trying it on. Perfect fit.

He chuckled. He already knew that---he knew you’d love it the moment he added it to his cart. He plucked the other ring and fit it on his ring finger.

“Sometimes, you do too much… You’re too good to me,” you shyly insist, smiling nonetheless.

He initiates a hug---something he rarely does---pulling your form into his. “Nah, baby. That’s what I should be saying to you,” he murmurs into your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. “I l-la-lu-ah fuck. I love you, ya dorkface.”

“Pfft…” You laugh at his words, as if he’s not the true dork between you two. “I love you too, more than anything.”

────── 〔Shoto Todoroki〕──────

this boy is so confused

you,,, got a gift??? for him?? just because you thought he might like it?

he hugs you because for one, he really does like it, and two, the fact that you’re thinking of him and will spend your hard earned money for him means a lot

he doesn’t try and stop the soft smile that takes over for the rest of the day

every time he sees the gift you got him, he smiles

it reminds him of you

he’s kinda like bakugou in that he doesn’t know how to do the cuddle-touchy-sweetheart part of a relationship that well and is better with gifts

but he doesn’t want to just use dear old dad’s money, it doesn’t feel right. it’s not as sentimental.

he thinks about getting you a bunch of things and giving you them periodically

but he doesn’t want to make you think you have to return the favour and run yourself dry

and he most certainly doesn’t want the relationship to turn materialistic

While it takes him a while to figure out what to get you, once he settles on the idea, he’s very happy with it. He picks up a couple one-time jobs for some cash. He considered babysitting before he realised he has no clue how to take care of another human being, let alone a tiny one with the brain capacity of Kaminari. So he goes around doing favours for local businesses and households, cleaning or organising or restocking ice for a local ice cream parlor.

When he’s certain he has more than enough money, he buys a few things for you. He carefully placed the items in a cute tote bag and headed off to your house for the movie date you’d planned.

At first, you thought he just brought snacks in his sister’s bag or something, but when he pushed the bag into your arms, looking away slightly with a pinkish tint to his cheeks, you realised what was up.

“Awh, Shoto! How sweet…” You peered into the bag and fell short of breath.

“Uhm… I know how passionate you are about your hobby, so I just wanted to get you some better materials and tools, and I thought maybe you could teach me a little so we could do it together…”

Your eyes lit up at the thought, and you jumped onto Shoto to give him a bear hug. “Yes! That sounds amazing, I’d love to! Thank you so much Sho, it means a lot.”

He plants a kiss on your neck and wraps his arms around you. “Of course, anything to see that pretty smile of yours.”

[1kook]

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

Summary: Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you. Warnings: emotional constipation, toxic ex, internalized misogyny, jk has bad experiences w/his ex’s dad, one scene where jk throws up, brief episode of panic, mentions of terminal cancer (minor); smut; fingering, praise kink, face fucking, spitting kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex on top of a car im sorry Misc: autoshop owner!jk, businesswoman!oc, slice of life, childhood crushes, friends to lovers, ex gfs, pining, country bumpkin pjm w/crush on oblivious oc, ex-bf kth but it’s not real lol Wc: 19.4k (wow!!!)

the spirit of auto shop jk possessed me n next thing i knew i was 11k into a drabble. if ur curious: the 1975 corvette, car at the end, the tweed suitskirt (not actually chanel ☹️sowwyyy) also: this is the longest fic I've written!!!!! clap for me!!!!! i proofread the first few paragraphs n was like thats enough professionalism for the day

inspired by ain’t no mountain high enough one of my fave songs ever🥺 the title is a lyric from the song bc i love it so much enjoy !!

The garage is mostly dark when you enter, the faint hum of a radio quietly filtering through the stagnant room, its source coming from the back wall, where the only light is. It’s a rolling lamp, shining down an ugly yellow glow onto the figure of one man.

Jungkook’s sitting in that same rolling stool he always is, the metal one that’s rusted beyond repair, the cushion so uncomfortably flat. He’s caught up in whatever paint job he’s been tasked with this time around, a classic muscle car from what looks like the 80’s. He’s humming along to the radio, so caught up in stenciling out his design that he doesn’t notice you creep behind him until you’re very purposefully rattling the tool cart beside him, a teasing “boo!” making him jump.

“Fuck, you scared me,” he gasps, rubs over his chest as if to check if his heart is in fact still there. You grin, brandish your bag of takeout out for him before he can lecture you on the dangers of startling people who work around very complex machinery. Instead, all he says is, “you’re an angel.”

Once you’ve got the food carefully scattered across his work bench, your cherry cola tucked next to a canister of gasoline like that’s the safest practice, Jungkook wastes no time diving into all the details of his project, the 1975 Chevy Corvette behind him. The longer you look at it, the more you feel you’ve seen it somewhere. Probably a car show, you presume.

“Purrs like a kitten,” he sighs dreamily, completely ignoring the way half his toppings slide out from the opposite end of his cheeseburger. You don’t, and you swipe a fallen pickle from his tray before he can catch you.

“A kitten?” You ask, glance over at the car. It’s desperately in need of a paint job, and you only realize this now as you stare at it more in depthly. The niggling feeling that you know this car is still there, but you ignore it in favor of indulging your best friend. “Don’t people usually compare cars to bigger, better cats?”

There’s a taped stencil running alongside the car, a thick stripe followed by a thinner one, and you suppose Jungkook’s trying to spice her up, give her back the same youthfulness she probably had in her prime. What better way to do so than by adding some classic stripes alongside it.

Jungkook hums, gulps down his soda noisily. “Not this one. Never heard an engine as soft as hers.”

You roll your eyes. For a minute, the two of you quietly chew through your burgers, the radio filling in the gaps while you analyze the car. You know this car, but you can’t remember where. Jungkook coughs into his palm, probably from trying to inhale his fries too fast like he does every time you go to the diner you’re eating from today.

The diner.

A mouthful of braces. A pretty waitress. A strict dad.

“Holy shit, this is Sojin’s dad’s car,” you inhale, the memories from high school suddenly hitting you full force. Jungkook chokes, out of surprise this time, and furiously goes to deny your claims. “This is totally his car. The one he tried to run you over with when he caught you trying to put her on the back of your bike.”

“He didn’t try to run me over,” Jungkook whines, and the tips of his ears are red from your revelation.

You glare. “Why are you fixing that asshole’s car for him?” You interrogate, the last quarter of your burger forgotten in favor of squeezing the truth out of him. You’d had enough of that treacherous woman and her equally deranged father causing Jungkook trouble, and to catch him still helping her now, almost ten years later, was enough to make a brain vessel pop.

He shrugs, avoids your eyes as he picks through his fries. The radio is still on, some tune you recognize from those old days at the diner when Jungkook had become so unbelievably smitten with the part timer that served you milkshakes every Wednesday afternoon.

He had been in love with her the moment he saw her, and the look in his eyes was only magnified by those dorky glasses he wore pre-lasik. You'd been his friend long enough, recognized the jump of his scrawny thigh beneath the table. Like a bunny, thumping in excitement at the sight of her.

Sojin was... full of surprises.

She was nothing less than a supermodel, long legs carrying her around the diner as if it was her runway. She was nice too, so you hadn’t originally had an excuse to dislike her. She was nice, and so endeared with your best friend that it was inevitable when they began dating. Her presence consumed the end of your high school careers, overtook the time that should have been yours and Jungkook’s last year before being thrown into adulthood. He decided on studying at a technical school nearby—per your encouragement to save money—while you travelled five hours out for your degree in business. That last year, when you had finally come to terms with your feelings, had been so painfully ripped away by Sojin and her never-ending list of teenage drama, and by Sojin’s dad and his overbearing need to police her and Jungkook every chance he got.

Jungkook still hung out—“Sojin was busy, do you wanna do something?”—but more often than not those hang outs consisted of Jungkook telling you about her and her dad, about how hard he tried to get into his good graces.

The bike incident had only been one of many. Times where Jungkook would put his heart—and life—on the line for that girl only for it to be in vain every time she broke up with him over the simplest things. You’d heard stories from Jungkook, all told with a tight smile, of a handshake that would bruise, a man chasing him with a bat, of a car following him to school. All things he put up with for a girl who didn’t care for him. One day, after Jungkook had grudgingly sat through an hour long dinner with her family, the stare of her father piercing through him, she broke up with him because she didn’t like how long his hair had gotten.

(If anyone were to ask you, he was handsome with long hair. Dreamy even.)

He cut it that same day.

As her childishness grew, you quickly came to dislike her. She strung Jungkook around, you thought, and just when you thought she was finally done toying with him and making his life difficult in the sneakiest ways, the damn kid started hitting the gym. His growing frame, toned arms and now straightened teeth had turned him into a heartthrob, and Sojin was just as aware of this as you were. “Don’t we look perfect together?” She’d ask, twirl around him like they were on the cover of a magazine and not standing on his chipped front porch.  

Needless to say, by the time graduation had rolled around you despised the woman. You absolutely disliked how she treated Jungkook, how she let her father treat Jungkook without ever stepping up and defending him. Granted, you didn’t know exactly what went on in her household behind closed doors, you’d seen enough of her uncaring attitude to want to ram her and her dad’s head against the hood of the car.

Which is why seeing the old car, in Jungkook’s shop nonetheless, was rekindling a boiling hatred in your chest. “That man should rot in hell for all he put you through,” you huff, glare at the car like it holds some magical connection to him and he can feel the intensity of your stare.

“___,” Jungkook scolds, swirls his cup around to distract himself. “He was just trying to protect his only daughter,” he defends, quietly, like it’s what he tells himself to justify all those years of mistreatment. Even when he and Sojin had continued through college, it had never stopped. You, being five hours away, couldn’t do a damn thing. “Besides, the guy’s old as hell now.”

You snort, finally breaking your staring match with the car. Glancing at Jungkook, he’s got that same forlorn expression on his face, the one he started wearing when he first came to terms with the fact that her dad would never like him. There was a time it was stuck permanently on his face, the pressure and the discomfort that came from the father of the girl you’ve dated for five years looking at you like you were nothing more than a speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

When you came back from school, educated and confident, you almost didn’t recognize your best friend. Tall and broad, tattoos splattered over his arm. Hair long like you loved it, but eyes still as round and wondrous as they’d been when you were kids. He had his own place now, he told you, and you vaguely remembered all the times he mentioned him and Sojin moving in together, mentally preparing yourself to see that wench for the first time in a while.

Much to your surprise, there was no Sojin in sight. No lingering artifacts of her presence. Nothing that showed she existed in this space besides an ugly orange mug she’d given him for his birthday one year, tucked into the very back of his cabinets. They’d broken up, he explained. Almost immediately after graduation.

After stringing him along for the better part of five years, she had decided this wasn’t what she wanted. No, what she wanted was a man ten years her senior with an abundance of cash to flow. Jungkook hadn’t cried. Hadn’t even looked the tiniest bit upset when you ordered pizza and drank some beer, watched your favorite episodes of The Simpsons like you were seventeen and avoiding your homework again.

You stayed the night, a little too tipsy to drive home. Besides, Jungkook had a spare bedroom. It was a room beside his, just a full bed with a chest of drawers. You liked it, liked the scent of him surrounding you after only seeing each other for a couple weeks in between months of distance. You liked it, because when he shifted in bed you realized the beds were pressed against the same wall, and you liked it until the shared wall spared you no secrets, and you listened to him quietly sob into his pillow.

“Old or not, he’s still the devil,” you murmur, snapping back to the present where Jungkook is wheeling himself closer to the car again. “Where did you find that thing anyway?”

He stays silent, quietly pretending like he still has something to do on the car besides paint it. Then, “I bumped into Sojin at the store.”

You sigh, drop your head between your shoulders. You can only imagine what whirlwind of a sob story she had to throw on him to win this favor.

“Kook,” you start, gauging his reaction only from his backside. His muscles ripple beneath his dark t-shirt, his usual red jumpsuit knitted around his waist. “What happened?”

Again, silence.

You say nothing, let him sort through the hurt on his own while you creep up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and pressing down on the cricks behind his neck. He melts into your touch, head lolling forwards as a quiet sigh escapes him.

“She told me she was low on cash, and she needed the car to get to work,” he confesses, and from his ducked position, his voice trembles. You roll your eyes.

“And the paint job?”

A particularly rough press of your fingers has a whimper escaping him. God, this boy needed to see a chiropractor and a masseuse soon. All that hunching over and under these cars was doing a number on his back.

“I… I figured I might as well fix up the exterior too.” Of course he would, you think, Jungkook’s heart was stupidly big and easy to manipulate. He would get so swept up in it sometimes, trying to do the best he can for everyone’s benefit that he’d ignore himself.

You sit in his confession, fingers digging into his skin for a few minutes as you consider what to say.

The mature adult in you, the logical half of you, wants to hit him upside the head, scold him for letting that wench into his life again so easily. You were going on twenty-six now, all three of you, and you didn’t have time to be fixing him every time that childish woman decided to toy with him. Granted, it’s been four years since you last saw her, since you heard him muffle his cries on the other side of the wall, and you liked to think Jungkook was a respectful adult of society now. He didn’t have time to get dragged around by self-absorbed women with insane fathers.

The other part, the best friend since childhood, wants to run away. Wants to pack Jungkook into a suitcase and take him far away from here and from her. Unlike you, who now lived in the city, Jungkook had stayed in your small hometown, a quiet place just outside the bustling city. It was difficult to ensure his happiness when you were always forty-five minutes out of reach. It would be so much easier to just take him and fly to another province, maybe on the beach, Jungkook loved the beach.

“Listen,” he says, successfully pulling you out from your spiral. “I know what you’re gonna say and I just wanna tell you it’s not like that.”

You blink, hands stilling on his shoulders. Your lack of movement allows him to spin around on his chair, gaze up at you with the same shiny gaze he’s given you ever since you were kids. “I’m just doing her this tiny favor. She looked...” he trails off, face scrunching to find the words.

“Like shit?” You propose, and he smiles. “Like flaming dumpster shit behind a club?”

Jungkook laughs, loud and beautiful. You want to kiss the mole beneath his lip.

“She looked bad, okay?” He settles, reaches forward to take your palm in his. You’re standing between his thighs, and you wonder how he would have acted if you were Sojin. “Don’t think things worked out with that CEO she was dating. I’m just giving her a push.”

You sigh, try to push those crestfallen sobs to the back of your head. “Okay,” you agree, briefly glancing back at the damn car. “You fix her car, and that’s it,” you state. Jungkook nods, makes a little X over his heart. He knows how much you hate that woman. “No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he agrees, then reaches down for a white spray can. “You wanna spray some dicks on it before I paint it?”

“Please,” you laugh, taking the face mask he offers you with a grin.

—

One day your car starts making a weird noise as you pull out of the underground parking garage of your building. It’s somewhere between a pig squealing and metal scraping. You’ve been around Jungkook long enough to know this is probably something to do with your breaks, something about them being loose or old, one of the two. You have a short day at work today. There’s repairs being done to the office you work at, so everyone’s been spending more time working from home.

You leave work a little after two pm, head pounding from the hour long meeting you sat through, the mediocre business proposals your boss had asked you to look through and file. There’s a hefty load of emails waiting in your inbox, mostly the interns requesting you write them a recommendation letter. You’ll have to look through those later, pick out the good ones and write them each a unique piece kissing the ground they walk on.

The scent of freshly fried donuts hits your nose as you pull into your old town; the bakery down the road from Jungkook’s has their windows open. You can already taste the sweetness on the tip of your tongue, the iced coffee cooling your insides as you sit and watch Jungkook work on your car.

Jungkook’s shop is on the corner of the street, takes up a huge chunk with it’s massive garage and driveway; the office area is tiny compared to the sheer size of the actual work floor. There’s music blaring through the overhead speakers, and when you pull in you recognize it as Jimin’s playlist.

“Morning, Miss,” the country bumpkin says, leaning against your car door as you rifle through your purse. “What’re you in for?”

“Hi, Jimin,” you reply sweetly, take his hand as he helps you out the door. You very vaguely explain the noise your car had made that morning, glancing around the shop as Jimin gets to work inspecting it. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin’s waving over some other employees, all greeting you in their matching red jumpsuits. “Kook’s in the office,” he tells you, and it’s almost sensual the way his hand glides over your palm for your keys. God, you needed to get laid. “Has some lady friend in there with him.”

You pause, the bustling of the crew behind you fading into the background. Something inside you snaps, and you whirl around the garage, before catching sight of a 1975 Chevy Corvette, almost unrecognizable from how you’d last seen it. It’s bright red now, a color you only briefly saw before you’d left the other night, with two, lightning bolt racing stripes decorating each side. It looks new, almost in mint condition, and the fact it’s still here has you storming through the garage.

Your heels clack loudly, the crew moving to the side as you torpedo straight into the offices. You barely remember to greet the receptionist before you’re stomping straight into the main office.

There’s no knock, no warning given, before you’re flinging the door open, seeing exactly what you’d expected. 

“___,” Jungkook stutters, jumping onto his feet from his position on the couch. He looks frantic, wide eyes flickering between you and the woman sitting in front of him, her back turned to you. But you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“Did you say ___?” She says, and she’s still as tall and as beautiful as you remember her. Had it not been for the heels you wore, you don’t doubt she’d tower over you. She flashes you a killer smile, lips carefully painted red. It almost looks murderous. “My! ___, you haven’t changed a bit,” Sojin exclaims, rushing around the couch to pull you into a tight hug. You don’t return it.

You let her cling to you for a second, before pushing her away as gently as you can by the shoulders. As much as you’d like to rip her in half, tear her apart for all she did to Jungkook, you won’t. You’re older now, elegant in all the ways you weren’t before. It would be a huge disservice to your maturity if you shoved your heel up her ass right now.

“It’s lovely seeing you, Sojin,” you smile, taking her hand in yours.

Besides, being a woman in business meant you knew better, more creative ways to strike.

“And your boyfriend?” You ask, tilting your head in staged confusion. You even glance around the office, like you’ll find the geezer hiding behind the potted plant or Jungkook’s frozen figure. “The rich one with the huge company? Did he come with you today?”

Her smile tightens, red lips pursed as she gauges you with those cat eyes that haunt your nightmares every now and then. “My ex-boyfriend,” she corrects after a minute, pastes a forlorn expression onto her features. “We’ve separated, and you know how it is for women like us,” she jests. “We need a man to push us along—“

“Do we?” You ask, think back on all those years of school, of studying and working and pushing yourself, all the time you spent investing in yourself for yourself. “I don’t think so,” you contemplate. “It’s really embarrassing if you can’t care for yourself without the help of a man. Almost like you don’t trust in your own abilities, and ride other’s coattails instead.”

A beat of silence. Two completely different worlds, and Jungkook hovering awkwardly beside you.

Two palms grasp your shoulders from behind, and when you turn Jungkook is smiling at you, forced and stressed like he can’t stand to be in this uncomfortable situation any longer. “Well,” he announces, pushing you behind him as he guides Sojin towards the door. “There was an issue with her car, so I’ll just check on it real quick, okay?”

You nod, feel empty as he takes her by the wrist, and not you. He hands her her purse, palm on the small of her back as they exit the office. When the door clicks shut behind them, you throw your own handbag at the ground, barely stop yourself from stomping like a child.

Instead, you breathe in, hold it, and exhale, just like your Tuesday yoga instructor taught you. By the time you’ve collected yourself a few minutes have passed, so you kneel down to gather your fallen lipstick tubes and cellphone from the floor, scooping them back into your purse.

Tugging the door shut behind you, you mindlessly wander down the hall, until you reach the small receptionist area and nearly get jumped by Kim Taehyung. “Holy shit, you won’t believe this,” he gasps, takes you by the shoulders and nearly shakes you until your brain falls out through your ears. You would have slapped him, had this been any other man, but he’s quite possibly the only man besides Jungkook you’d let jostle you like this. “You’ll never guess who just left the office with J—wait,” he pales, suddenly connecting two and two, your exit from said offices definitely a key factor in whatever conclusion he’s drawn. “You were in the office with Hwang Sojin and you didn’t kill her?!”

You huff, let him shake you again until you’re nearly tripping in your heels. “Yes, I know,” you groan, finally slap his hands away when you begin to feel this morning’s breakfast bubbling from all the motion. “I’m surprised too.”

“Wow,” Taehyung marvels, leans back against the receptionist desk even though the poor girl has told him time and time again not to. He ignores her, something he can do as second best friend to the boss. “Remember when she showed up crying outside his mom’s house and you threw a potted plant at her? Oh how the great have fallen.”

Rolling your eyes, you drift over to the plexiglass window in the office that looks out across the entirety of the garage floor. In the corner, Jungkook’s got the hood of the Corvette open as he works away on something, Sojin tapping at her phone beside him. “Why are you here, Tae?”

He steps beside you, tuned into the same scene. “Can’t visit my ex-girlfriend every now and then?” He teases, you groan.

“We dated for three days, dude, let it go,” you whine, and watch with rapt attention as Jungkook motions for her to start the engine. She does, and it purrs to life, soft and silky just like Jungkook said it does. She squeals and claps, launches herself into his arms in thanks. You look away.

“Yuck,” Taehyung gags and you couldn’t agree more. “Can’t believe you ended the best 72 hours of my life for that pinhead and the hussy attached to his hip.”

He shrieks when you pinch his side, and you take great satisfaction in the judgemental stare half the crew sends him through the glass. After all, they weren’t soundproof. “You embarrassed me and my brand,” he huffs, crossing his arms as the two of you return to watching Jungkook and the hussy.

“He’s not a pinhead,” you softly retort, watch him wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead as he waves her off. Sojin sends him a brigade of air kisses, none of which he catches. A sick sense of glee consumes you at the sight, but then he’s turning to stare directly at you and Taehyung through the glass, and the both of you quickly whirl away.

“His ability to find you in less than a second is so weird,” Taehyung shivers, and you ignore it, taking the candy from the bowl on the receptionist desk. She doesn’t care, having heard these conversations more than enough times to get the general gist of what you and Taehyung gossip about. You’re surprised she’s never mentioned it to Jungkook before.

Regardless, you listen to Taehyung complain about his life for a few more minutes, before Jimin’s sweet voice pops into the room. His ash blonde hair is all ruffled, and there’s something dark smeared over his otherwise perfect skin as he tells you your car is fixed. Taehyung bids you goodbye, and Jimin walks you back to your car out on the garage floor.

“All set, miss,” Jimin grins, puts a hand against the car so you don’t hit your head as you go in. You thank him, and don’t miss the way he lingers by your window.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, tilt your head quizzically. Jimin’s cheeks flush, and he looks shyly at the ground.

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

“___,” Jungkook calls, jogging over beside Jimin, who looks almost ashamed to be caught doing...whatever it was he was gonna do. Jungkook glances at him, catches him in some weird staring contest before crouching down to your window. “You needed your car fixed? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blink, don’t know how to politely tell him he was too busy kissing the ass of his toxic ex-girlfriend to help you out. “Jimin helped me,” you smile, the same practiced expression you’ve mastered since college. You usually get by, usually trick people with that look, but not with him. Jungkook knows you too well, knows that look, and knows you’re holding yourself back. “You were busy.”

His lips part in surprise, tugged downwards with the hint of a frown. “I,” he stutters, looks at Jimin, who doesn’t seem that impressed with him either. “I… I would’ve came if you called.”

You tug your sunglasses out from their little case, slide them over the bridge of your nose as you strap your seatbelt over yourself. “Would you though?” You ask, flash him another polite smile before shifting your car’s gears. Jimin walks off, clears the path for you to exit, and with just Jungkook standing there, you speak freely. “I would hate to distract you from something important.”

—

Some of the proposals end up being better than expected, and after carefully sifting through them, your boss asks you to sit through presentations for the next few days. Your time gets consumed in graphs and budgets. There’s a multitude of businesses you have to look into, some big and well-known, and others small and local. You drive around the city one day, visiting business after business, until your ankles hurt in your heels and your cheeks hurt from all the smiling. Your only comfort is the nice Chanel skirt suit you’re wearing that makes you feel like the most important person in the room wherever you go.

By the time the week’s over, there’s a thin cut forming on the back of your ankles from all the walking you’ve done in your heels. You slump against your front door, tossing your heels in the vague direction of the closet before padding through your house.

You nearly scream yourself sore at the figure in your kitchen, hunched over what looks to be a hastily made cake with a number three candle. “Oh my god,” you seethe, turning the overhead light on to illuminate Jungkook’s grinning figure, dirty and sweaty from work. You glance at the clock on the stove; it’s only been about an hour since his garage closed.

“Surprise!” He exclaims, and you’re not the slightest bit amused when he begins humming the happy birthday song on a day that is definitely not your birthday.

When he’s done, you don’t clap and his beaming smile doesn’t waver. “It is not my birthday,” you calmly state, placing your leather padfolio on the counter.

Jungkook blows the candle out for you. “It’s the birthday of when we first met,” he explains, and gets to cutting the cake. How he remembers such a day, you don’t know. You do know that this is his mom’s birthday cake recipe, and you love that. “Can you believe it? Friends for almost three decades.”

“Almost,” you repeat, dutifully sitting across from him and taking the plate he offers. He nods at you like a bobblehead. 

His eyes are sparkly and big, like he’s drunk, and it’s only then you notice the red wine on the table, bottle open and halfway done. You set your fork down, grasp the neck of the bottle in your hand. “Have you been drinking?” You ask, even though the answer stares you right in the face. You frown. “You hate drinking.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shovels more cake into his mouth to delay his response. “Needed it,” he offhandedly explains, nearly eats the candle but you jump forward to snatch it off his fork before he can.

“What do you mean?” You inquire. You’re not hungry anymore, too interested in whatever’s going on in his head to make him think he needs to be drunk around you.

Jungkook gulps, reaches forward for more wine but you cradle the bottle to your chest. You nearly gasp when he levels you with a real, stony glare, the expression out of place on his face. “Cuz you’re mad,” he huffs. “At me.”

There was a time you would coddle Jungkook’s every mistake, never let him think he was at fault for anything. You’d grown out of it shortly before high school, recognizing boys were stupid no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Since then, you’ve watched him get into trouble time and time again—Sojin being the prime example—and only intervened when absolutely necessary. Some part of you, the half that hates seeing him upset, wants to tell him you’re not. The mature part in you, however, doesn’t let that happen.

“I am,” you agree, watch his eyes widen almost comically at your admission. You set the wine bottle back on the table, leaning your chin on your palm as you level him with the most unimpressed gaze you can. “I’m furious, actually.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a kicked puppy, and you can almost see the metaphorical ears pressed against his head and the tail tucked between his legs. His lips are big and pouty, stained from the wine. You’d love to know what they feel like.

Jungkook’s vulnerability lasts all of three seconds, before he’s shaking himself out of whatever emotional pit his foggy brain has him in. “Well, it’s dumb,” he spits, and it’s your turn to sit in shock. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulously, because this has never happened before. Are you overprotective and sometimes overbearing? Sure. Has Jungkook ever voiced discomfort with that before? Never. “I’m not telling you what to do,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes, pushes away from the table like a moody teen. You know it’s because he’s drunk, because he’s not himself, but you have to remind yourself that he obviously felt this way somewhere in his heart to voice it to you now. “You’re not my mom.”

You choke. “I’m not!” You angrily agree, pushing away from the table as well.

Jungkook snarls, “well you sure do love acting like her.” He picks up his plate, glances over at you with a look in his eyes that can only be likened to that of a sneaky cat, and then purposefully shoves the bread and frosting down the garbage disposal in the sink. You shriek, fly around the table and shove him away.

“What is wrong with you?” You seethe, push him away rudely with a hand on his face. Jungkook stumbles back, slips on the floor and nearly cracks his head on the corner of the counter. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, abandoning the sink in favor of watching the way his face twists up at the sudden motion, stomach contracting beneath his black t-shirt, cheeks puffing. “Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, tugging him to his feet with the strength only a panicked individual about to see an entire cake regurgitated onto their kitchen tile can have.

You’ve barely kicked the door to the bathroom open when Jungkook begins throwing up, gooey vomit spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. It touches your arm, and you shriek before shoving him in the general direction of the toilet.

“Ew, ew,” you freak, shoving your hand under the sink faucet to get that gross feeling away. You wanna vomit yourself, but you tell yourself there can only be one sick person at a time, and right now it’s Jungkook.

He’s got his head in the toilet, disgusting sounds echoing off the ceramic of it. By the time you’ve calmed down and washed your arm thrice, you move over to pull his bangs away from his face, letting him hurl in peace.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, spews another round of birthday cake into the toilet.

You look away, blindly reach out to turn the bathroom fan on. “Mhm,” you nod, rubbing a hand over his back. Jungkook nods sadly against the toilet seat.

“‘M sorry,” he repeats, gags around nothing but the gross feeling left in his throat. “I-I know you just want…” a pause as he considers throwing up some more, “...want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” you agree, wipe a hand down the side of his face that he leans into. “Not trying to be your mom,” you assure him, and he snorts.

“Be a good mom,” he murmurs, so soft you don’t hear him. You hum, leaning closer and he repeats it. “You’d be… a good mom.”

Not knowing what to do with that information, you just pat his back until he falls asleep, cheek against the toilet seat.

—

“Woah, the sexual tension in this garage is off the charts,” Taehyung blurts from behind you, and you smack your clipboard against his chest. “Oof,” he grunts, rubbing his chest like it actually hurt. “You doing finances for him again?” He asks and you nod.

In an ideal world, Taehyung would leave upon finding out you’re busy. In this world, he simply leans into your personal space, nearly knocking you into an empty tool cart. “Oooh, an extensive list of all the money Jungkook’s stupidly blown this month. How much did he spend on neon signs this time?”

You relent, showing him the shop’s finances. Anywhere else, revealing a business’s finances without the consent of the owner would be a federal crime. Here, it’s the equivalent of showing Taehyung Jungkook’s browser history. “He spent how much on window tint?!”

“A lot,” you say.

There’s a whistle from across the garage, the shop’s resident country bumpkin Park Jimin standing at the huge garage doors with his hand on his hip. “No fraternizing, please.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Boooo,” he shouts, peels himself away from you to flick an impolite finger Jimin’s way. “He’s just jealous,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Of what?” You ask, and Taehyung nearly loses his shit.

“My precious ___,” he sighs, leans his forehead on your shoulder. “So beautiful and smart, yet so slow.” You flick the side of his forehead just as Jungkook strolls by and, seeing your attack, slaps the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Why do you guys hate me!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping at least five feet away from you and Jungkook’s giggling forms.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring Taehyung’s soulful cries as he glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. You tilt it his way, but he stands close anyway, until you can feel his breath huffing against the back of your neck.

“Okay, but you’re spending a lot of money stockpiling on things that haven’t shown signs of running out yet,” you explain, pointing at the window tint that had astonished Taehyung only a moment ago.

Jungkook grimaces, pink tongue swiping across his lip as he looks at the total amount he’s spent the last three months. “Well, it’s a good thing I have my accountant,” he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Not your accountant,” you correct, “just a friend who doesn’t wanna see you run your business to the ground from overspending.”

Jungkook waves you off, and Taehyung tries to sneak into the receptionist office behind you, but Jungkook catches him with his free hand. “This is the life,” he sighs, wistfully gazing over the garage floor. It reeks of motor oil and car paint.

“Count me out,” Taehyung snorts, voicing your disinterest toward such greasy and smelly work. He tries to wiggle out of Jungkook’s hold, but the muscle bunny only straps an arm around his neck, until Taehyung’s squirming and clawing for air against the red sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“My own successful business, a shitload of sexy cars, and of course,” he pauses, squeezes the two of you tighter until you’re both groaning. “My two best friends.” The sap has the gall to peck the top of your heads, and that seems to be the final straw for Taehyung who rips himself away.

“Have this lovefest somewhere else, man,” Taehyung says, flattening his rumpled clothing down. “You’re really putting a nail in my reputation around here.”

Jungkook cackles, mindlessly goes to wrap himself around you from behind. “Your reputation has been trash since that scream you let out the other day,” he informs him, swaying the two of you back and forth. Your heart thunders in your chest, and you just barely manage to avoid Taehyung’s pointed stare.

“Whatever, I’m outta here.” With Taehyung peaced out, you’re left in Jungkook’s arms, gazing over his business like two old lovers. It makes your chest tight, so you quickly go to shake him off.

“We’re okay?” Jungkook murmurs, so soft you almost don’t hear. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb massaging over the bone there like he’s afraid you’ll bolt the second he lets you go.

You nod, tuck the clipboard to your side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Those sad puppy eyes, pouty lips turned southward. You want to wipe that look off his face. He sighs, glances at where your skin meets and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve been an ass lately,” he settles on saying. “Said some mean things and ruined your bathroom rug—I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what to say.

Jungkook takes your silence as understanding, reaching down to hold both your hands in his slightly dirty ones. “It won’t happen again. I’d rather lose a million friends than lose you,” he confesses, and something about it feels too real, too raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You nod, the constricting feeling in your throat only tightening when he smiles at you, those gentle eyes and plush lips for only you to see. You want to kiss him, swallow him whole. Right here on the garage floor so everyone knows he’s yours.

But you can’t because he’s not.

You settle on swinging your arms between you. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, narrowing your eyes playfully. There’s a heavy feeling in your heart, something akin to anguish, but you could never voice it out loud.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

Jungkook visits again on a weekday, and you nearly send him straight home when he brandishes another bottle of wine in your face. “It’s nonalcoholic!” He exclaims before you can shut the door on him, foot lodged against the frame. You give in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, curling up on the couch in just your shorts and huge t-shirt. Jungkook pops the bottle open, pouring the wine into two limited edition Shrek 2 cups you pulled out from the depths of your cabinet.

“Can’t hang with my bestie?” He throws back at you, snatching the remote from your hands before you can click on another episode of that dumb housewives show. You end up watching National Geographic, some documentary about the role of bioluminescent shrimp in the sea.

“Aw look, they’re kissing,” he cooes at a pair of seahorses that wander across the screen halfway through a shot of some school of shrimp. “How romantic.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” you comment, not thinking too much on the meaning behind your words until you can feel Jungkook’s stare pierce your cranium. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed?” He blurts, and you choke on your wine.

“You were my first kiss,” you remind him, flush at the memory of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, knees knocking in what was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “With the Tony Hawk poster behind my bed, right?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook hums, and the two of you melt back into the silence. Nice aquatic sounds fill the room, the camera panning over more colorful fish that Jungkook oohs at appreciatively. You don’t really pay attention, more interested in the way the wine swirls in your cup and the way you can feel Jungkook’s thigh pressed against your knee, like when you were thirteen and trying something new.

You know it doesn’t mean a lot to him. Just another silly childhood memory of you. Not like you have hundreds, thousands of them with each other. By the way he’d blurted the question, you doubt he even remembered it most days. But you did.

It plagued your mind all the time, the soft feel of his mouth and the trembling hand that had held yours. You wonder if he kisses the same still, lips gently puckered. He’s had years to learn, half a decade to get creative with Sojin, and the past four years of being a bachelor to explore more.

You’ve kissed too, plenty of guys who had no meaning and ones you thought would replace him. But it’d been a long time since you’ve let anyone into your bed, more content to please yourself without the overbearing weight of feelings and emotions to wrap around your throat.

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

He’s looking at you inquisitively, like he can’t get his usual read on you and would rather just ask what’s wrong. “You don’t,” a pause, “hang out with guys?”

It’s devastatingly cute, the way he asks if you’re fucking, and you want to pinch his cheeks. Instead you shake your head, try to hide the grin on your face from his inquisitive expression. “Just you and Taehyung,” you admit.

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

You shake your head furiously. “No! God no, we don’t do anything like that,” you clarify, the thought of Taehyung in your bed enough to make you want to gag.

Jungkook says nothing, just turns back to the documentary to watch more Nemos and Dorys flit across the screen. You polish off your cup of wine, leaning forward to settle it back on the coffee table. As you settle back into the couch cushions, Jungkook speaks again. “So you take care of yourself?”

You freeze.

“Yeah,” you admit after one complete meltdown in your head. Where was this coming from? Why did he want to know? You and Jungkook were close, but you never did this. You never divulged the details of your sex life, never bragged about who you slept with or how many there were. What was going on?

Jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, just turns his attention back to the tv screen, where you’re almost certain the sea horses from before are fucking. Not that you know what it looks like, but you hope at least someone in this room was enjoying themselves and not drowning in the mortification of having their life long crush ask them if they masturbate.

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

You choke, slap your chest to ease the pounding of your heart at Jungkook asking such a question. “E-Excuse me?” You ask, scandalized that Jungkook, your sweet and caring childhood friend turned Fabio, could ask you such a bold question about your personal affairs.

“What?” Jungkook says, like he truly doesn’t see the inappropriateness of the situation. He even raises his eyebrows at you, as if urging you to answer the question.

You sigh, fight the flush of your cheeks and stare idly at the cups on the table. “A toy. Hands don’t feel good,” you curtly reply, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your legs off the couch, hoping that’s the end of his curiosity. This was enough to fuel your 3am anxiety meltdowns for the next five years.

Jungkook nods, and you can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of your face again. A great white shark swims across the screen. Jungkook strikes. “My hands feel good.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in horror (and excitement, but you’ll pretend it wasn’t there). “What has gotten into you?”

“What!” Jungkook defends, Bambi eyes looking at you like you’re the unreasonable one here. “We’re having a civil conversation in which I’m trying to open up your worldview.”

You’re flabbergasted. “This is not a civil conversation, what are you even talking about?” You scold, tug your arms around yourself like it’ll actually protect you from the words that don’t seem to be filtering out of his mouth properly. “Why are you so concerned about that?” You interrogate, hope your forceful tone will scare him away.

It doesn’t. Jungkook shrugs, some noncommittal i dont know sound. “I can’t be interested in what you get up to? What my best friend gets up to?” It’s the obvious emphasis on best friend that makes you step down.

“No,” you sigh, rub a hand down your face. “You can be interested,” you tell him gingerly. “We just never really… talked about... those kinds of things,” you rush out, turn away from him as the narrator on screen dives into the intricacies of bioluminescent shrimp in the animal food chain.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jungkook softens, scooting closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, too close and too warm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, places a palm on your knee.

“I’m not!” You rush to assure him, facing him head on again. His eyes are big and implorative still, and you wonder why he became stuck on that of all things today. “It just surprised me.”

His lips quirk to the side, an unsure grin that has you leaning into his shoulder. You sit in silence, the rise and fall of his body with every breath lulling you into a sense of comfort.

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

The documentary’s wrapping up, soothing ocean sounds and wind instruments playing as the credits roll across the screen, when the hand that had been laying so comfortably on your thigh inches up. At first, you don’t notice it, writing it off as Jungkook just shifting around. You tell yourself it’s just that, until his pinky makes contact with the end of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn towards him, catch his mocha irises lustfully lidded as he toys with the hem. “Kook?” You murmur, so soft, barely there.

“Hm?” He replies, continuing to play with the edge of your shorts, until he gets brave and his fingers slip beneath, index finger just barely grazing the panties underneath. You gasp. “This okay?”

Stuck between your arousal and your common sense, you flounder for a response. He’s so close, and smells so good, curls brushing against your temple the closer he gets. You want him so bad, want him to find his place between your thighs and put those pouty lips to use. But you know it’ll make things different, change whatever it is you’ve had for the past almost thirty years, and you’ll never bounce back. Another brush against your panties, pointer finger wiggling it’s way beneath the fabric, and you’re choking out a “yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and something in your core tingles at the name, thighs clenching together. “Uh uh,” he chides, nudges them open. “Stay still for me,” he commands, and you do, for all of ten seconds, but then he’s pressing his finger on your clit, panties and shorts muting the sensation. Still, it makes you squirm, fingers clutching the couch cushion beneath you as you struggle to keep them open. “Too much?” He asks, and you shake your head no.

“I-It’s fine,” you whisper, and Jungkook smiles.

He pets you, almost wondrously, for a few beats, watches the way the muscles in your thighs twitch with every press against your mound. Eventually, he decides it’s enough. “Hands don’t feel good for you?” He inquires, your words from earlier obviously having left their mark on him. Slowly, you shake your head. He glances down at the fist you have on the couch, composed features sliding up your face. “Well, yours are so small, princess. Of course they don’t feel good.”

He manhandles you around, tugs you onto the couch until you’re laying down, legs sprawled on either side of him. Pleased with the arrangement, Jungkook glances back down to your bottoms. “These have to go,” he tells you, hooks his fingers in the waistband and abruptly yanks down, leaving you just in your t-shirt.

You go to shy away, but Jungkook stops you, palms resting on the insides of your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin soothingly. “My fingers are long, see?” He says, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at you. You nod, heartbeat thundering in your ears. “They’ll feel nice inside.”

You know they will.

You can tell he knows his way around a woman’s body just from the way his hands glide over yours, carefully like he’s mapping you out. Ever so slowly, one hand grows closer, until his thumb is gently circling your clit, and you inhale sharply.

“So wet,” Jungkook hums, his other hand traveling further down, until he’s spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, trailing them through the arousal that gathers there.

You’ve never been so attentively cared for, never had a man zero in on your cunt like it was his first meal in ages. Jungkook’s eyes are clouded with lust, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he watches your pussy lips flutter at his touch.

He swirls his hand over your clit, pressing down. The first sound escapes you, a soft whimper that has you clamping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Jungkook grins down at you, shifts closer to press a kiss to the knuckles over your mouth.“Don’t hide from me,” he purrs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your neck.

You cry out when he gets back to it, massaging your pussy with gentle hands and a thumb against your clit to placate you. “Jungkook,” you choke out, and he beams at his name, takes it as a sign to finally slip two fingers inside. “A-ah,” you whine, arching beneath him.

He basks in your noises, leans close again to press a kiss beneath your ear, against your jaw. “This okay?” He murmurs, curling the fingers inside of you. You mewl, throwing your arms around him as he begins working you open. “How does it feel, baby?”

“G-good,” you pant, turn your head until you can bury your nose in his hair, drown even more in his all-consuming aura.

Another kiss to your neck, before he’s suctioning his lips right below your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin to brand you his. “You like my hands?” He husks, and the patch of saliva he leaves on your neck feels cold without his mouth there. You nod, and Jungkook rewards you with a soft smooch over the hickey he’s left.

His fingers inside you curl and scissor, brush against every inch of your walls until you’re quivering beneath him, gasping his name out. You could melt if his fingers weren’t holding you together. “So tight,” he groans, curling his fingers. The movement touches upon something sensitive within you, and you moan his name loudly.

“O-Oh,” you pant, wiggling beneath him as you try to feel that again. Jungkook lets you, watches you desperately rut into his hands. He drifts away, lets his tongue mouth over your breasts, licking until there’s a damp spot on your t-shirt, the flimsy house bra you’d worn and the t-shirt combined not enough to hide your pebbled nipples.

The drag of his hands against your pussy isn’t enough, the motions not quick enough. Jungkook glances at your twisted features, your quivering pussy, and then, ever so gently, ducks over you, puckered lips letting one, long glob of saliva touch down on your pussy, trickling around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” you choke, watch his tongue swipe over his lip to break the thin bridge that connects you too. Suddenly, everything is smoother, the combined lubrication of your arousal and his spit making the glide of his fingers sinfully slick.

Frantic for release, you lose yourself in him, ready to free fall into your pleasure so long as Jungkook is there to catch you. “That’s it,” he encourages, picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. “Come on, beautiful, let me see that gorgeous face of yours when you come.”

“K-Kook,” you sob, and he smiles against your neck. His fingers work fast, until your muscles are all pulled tight, waiting for that final push to unravel. You make the mistake of glancing down, only to be caught by that pearly smile and adoring gaze. You’re in heaven, you know you are.

There’s no other explanation for this—the way Jungkook holds you like you’re his, hands so gently caressing your most intimate parts. You’re almost convinced you’re having a fever dream, a sick, too realistic dream, but then Jungkook’s biting down on your shoulder through your t-shirt, subtly rutting against your thigh.

“Cum for me,” he purrs against your neck, and you do, sobbing as your orgasm rolls over you, the heavy weight of his cock against your thigh. “Jungkook,” you cry, so pitifully, it has him lunging forward, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

You feel sweaty and gross, unbelievably tired from the gentle way he opened you up. Blindly, you reach down, feel the hardness of his cock beneath his sweatpants, but Jungkook nudges you away. You huff. “Let me,” you whimper, reach for him again even though you can see the slowness in your movement. “Need your cock in my mouth,” you drawl, almost sleepily. 

“Shh,” he soothes, lips pressed against your neck, where he’s still licking and sucking over every inch of you. You whine. “You don’t have to do a thing, gorgeous,” he assures you, “just wanted to make you feel good.”

—

Work gets stressful shortly after. There’s a new batch of interns coming in this season, new faces who will mess up your coffee orders and jam the printers for a good few weeks. There’s normally a team of employees who train them, a mix of relatively older people from different departments who show them around; a girl in the finance department, the one who usually trains them, is on maternity leave. With no one else to fall back on, the head of the department pushes the duties off on you, claiming your flexibility and work ethic make you the perfect candidate for such a role.

Normally you’d thrive at the praise, eat up every single word like it sustained you. In a way, it did. It was nice to be appreciated and recognized for your hard work, to be thought of so highly, especially in a male-dominated company. However, this time, you know it’s out of convenience that the head kisses up to you, and you end up begrudgingly taking the role.

The gaps in your schedule you’d normally spend relaxing or catching up on other projects are filled with bumbling interns, calling for help every chance they get. It’s like they’ve never done anything on their own, this group, always asking you the correct way to do this, the right way to do that. You haven’t mentored interns in a while, so you spend the first day breezing over old powerpoints and print outs you made years ago. You remember why you’re not fit for mentoring when one of them asks you how to navigate Excel. You nearly rip their head off.

There’s so much going on, you barely get time to see Jungkook, let alone text him. You saw him once the morning after, stack of pancakes on your kitchen table as he rushed you off to work. The shop didn’t open for another hour. He was sweet, kissed your forehead as you left, but he’s always done that. You didn’t have time to talk about whatever the night before was, or what that made the two of you now.

On Friday night, one week into your nightmarish role, you pull into the shop. You'd like to convince yourself it was routine, visiting the shop, but that’s a lie. You desperately miss Jungkook. 

 Most of the garage doors that are usually pulled open during the day are shut, save for one. The last of Jungkook’s employees are leaving, bidding you adieu as you step out of your car. Park Jimin is there, repairing some rickety car in the back corner.

“Boo,” you call playfully, and Jimin doesn’t flinch, merely pulls his head from out of the hood to flash you an easygoing smile.

He whistles at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve been through one of helluva week,” he says, and you, despite your strong personality, feel yourself blush at his comment. Jeez, did you look that bad? Jimin doesn’t elaborate, just pulls out a stool for you to sit on beside where he’s working. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance at the plexiglass, the offices hiding down the hall. Jungkook could wait, you presume, settling down beside him. Your skirt tugs up as you settle onto the pleather seat, so you cover your legs meekly with your purse. “Work’s been crazy,” you explain, and Jimin laughs at the obvious.

“You’re telling me,” He hums, and you roll your eyes playfully. “What’s going on at work?”

What hasn’t been going on, you think to yourself, before launching into a full retelling of your new horrendous position, of all the interns with their clueless eyes and useless notebooks. Jimin chuckles, indulges you in a few comments here and there that only fuel you on. He’s just about done with whatever he’s doing to the car at the same time your story wraps up, explaining how you found yourself here, desperate for Jungkook to whisk you off to that arcade you loved as kids. “Jungkook?” He asks, and you nod. “He left a while ago.”

You freeze. “Huh?” You say, dumbly. You almost want to laugh at your own impulsiveness, for showing up without sending him a text or a warning to let him know you were coming. You almost do laugh, but then you remember you and Jungkook never did that anyway. Hell, he showed up at your house a few weeks ago unannounced and drunk. The two of you were hardly the type to plan ahead, so it was weird for him to not be here. He’s been at the shop almost every night since it’s opened, the days he’s not usually a holiday.

“Jimin…” you begin, glancing at the receptionist window once more. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin shuts his tool box, kicking a cart off to the side. “He left with that lady,” he tells you, doesn’t hear the way your heart rips straight out of your chest. No way. “Tall, pretty. Had that nice Corvette he fixed up a while ago.”

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

“Think that was her name.” As if sensing your tumultuous thoughts, he steps closer, one hand reaching out to steady you. “You alright?”

“God,” you exhale, pushing yourself away from Jimin and the garage and the window. The stool rolls away, almost hits the side of another car but Jimin catches it. He rushes over towards you, watching you wobble in your heels.

“Honey,” Jimin says, steady and warm beside you. “Sit down for me, yeah?” He guides you to a row of seats against the wall, nailed into the floor so you can’t push them away and make even more of a mess. Not that that’s your concern, your mind and heart too preoccupied with thoughts of Jungkook lying to you, going out with that woman again, despite your obvious hatred for her and his promise to you.

Jimin disappears, rushes over to the other side of the garage before returning with a water bottle for you. He cracks it open, presses it into your hands, and then against your lips when you don’t move. “Drink,” he encourages, watching you with worried eyes that only grow more and more concerned the deeper you fall into your thoughts.

You want to cry and beat Jungkook up at the same time. You want to scream at him for lying to you after treating you so nicely, holding you so warmly. Instead, you gasp for breath, clutching your face in your hands like it’s the only thing that grounds you.

There’s a beep outside, chirpy and cute in the way only older models are, and you whip your head up, the headlights of the Corvette painting you in shades of yellow as it rolls to a stop, the tears you hadn’t felt glistening under the light.

Jungkook flings himself out of the driver’s seat, and a sob catches in your throat when Sojin steps out of the passenger seat. Jungkook shoves everything in his path to the side, carts flying into the few automobiles on the floor, tools clanging loudly onto the cement, and just as those arms you love so much are reaching out for you, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him.

“What did you do to her?” Jungkook snarls, pushing Jimin roughly to the side. Jimin, smaller but not weaker, holds his ground, clutching Jungkook by the material of his jumpsuit a second time. “Let— go!” Jungkook shouts, finally worming away from his employee.

He nearly trips before you, stumbling to his knees as he takes your quivering hands in his. “What’s wrong,” he asks, throwing a nasty glare back at Jimin who watches silently from the side. Sojin is still by her car, leaning across the driver’s side now. “What did he do, what did he say?”

You shake your head, dropping your head to tuck your chin against your chest. You hate this. Hate letting him or Jimin or Sojin see you cry. It’s not the person you are, not the self-made woman you claim to be as you cry over the same man who is unknowingly defending you from himself.

“Let go,” you whisper, hoarse and choked. You shake your arms, but he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Jungkook pleads, inching closer to you. His breath is warm and he smells like oil, just like he always does. He also smells sweet and floral in a way only a woman could. He smells like Sojin.

You sob, rip your hands away from and scurry blindly towards Jimin, who catches you in his arms despite the shock that paints his face.

Jungkook watches with an expression of hurt, watches you snuggle into the arms of another man over an issue you won’t tell him about. Jimin says nothing, just rubs his palm over your back. He gestures towards the red corvette, the woman standing by it and Jungkook takes the hint.

You hear the kitten-like purr as it pulls off, the silence that follows afterwards. You don’t know where Jungkook is, if he’s here or if he left with her, and you don’t want to. “Tell me he’s gone,” you beg Jimin, quiet gasps against his neck.

He nods, slowly lets you untangle yourself from his arms as the two of you stare over the empty garage. The Corvette is gone, and so is Jungkook. Before Jimin can tell you where he is, you’re wiping a hand over your face, embarrassed at the moisture it comes back with. 

“I take it he’s not supposed to be with her?” Jimin tries to joke. 

Neither of you laugh. 

You sniffle, process what just happened, how you acted. You’ve never felt that way before, never experienced such brutal heartbreak. 

You don’t know what you expected from Jungkook. In your heart, you convinced yourself what happened in your apartment was the start of something new between the two of you, a natural result of your long friendship. Realistically, you know you should’ve waited until the two of you spoke, discussed whatever happens next. But you’d spent the past week comforted by the fact you’d finally gotten to experience something like that with him, daydreaming about him every chance you got. 

Somewhere in your mind, you had convinced yourself your involvement with him would finally be what broke his connection with Sojin, the final nail that would make him forget about her. It’s painfully funny how such wasn’t the case. 

Jimin breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay to drive home?” He gently inquires, and you turn your gaze over toward your car. 

Did you trust yourself to make it home without shedding a single tear? Absolutely not. But between Sojin and Jimin, you had let enough strangers see you fall apart over a man tonight. 

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him. 

—

The interns pick up on your sour attitude the week that follows. They don’t ask dumb questions, and don’t mess up your order. You talk them through a presentation, show them how to properly organize finance charts. There’s a slide that has clip art, a goofy dollar sign with a smile and shoes. Jungkook put it there when you first made the PowerPoint. After the little lesson, you go to the bathroom and try not to cry.

A week later, and the interns don’t need you anymore. They do well, and your boss praises you for being such a good mentor. You thank him and he lets you go home early.

Home is empty. Jungkook doesn’t show up unannounced, mostly because you’ve changed the number lock on the door. You want to eat salad today, for some reason, but don’t have any of the ingredients for it, so you walk to the supermarket a few blocks away.

The supermarket feels the same as it always does at night. That ghostly feeling of being watched in an empty aisle, the scratchy tune of whatever Top 50 radio station they settled on today. You get there and decide you don’t want salad anymore, so you buy ingredients for a stew instead, all of which you probably had at home.

When you step outside, the air around your bare thighs is cold. Summer was ending, which meant Jungkook’s birthday was coming up. You ball the receipt in your hand and fling it at the trash. You miss, so you hobble over to pick it up.

The trash is beside a red Corvette with two racing stripes.

“Hey,” Sojin says, arms crossed over her chest as she walks up behind you, sizing up your crouched form beside her car. “What’re you doing to my car?”

You breathe in, shake the crumpled up receipt at her, before stuffing it in the garbage. She says nothing as you stalk by her, and you’re back on the main road when she pulls up next to you, window rolled down to speak to you. “Get in,” she gestures, “it’s gonna rain.”

“No,” you say, and a fat raindrop falls right on your nose.

The door unlocks and you climb in, plastic bags crowded by your feet.

The drive is silent. You only live a few minutes from the store, and you point out an empty spot by the sidewalk for her to pull up to. A dry thanks is on the tip of your tongue, but you never get to say it.

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

“That sucks,” you respond, feel bad right away and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by it, shifting the Corvette out of drive and cutting the engine. “He’s probably not gonna see Christmas,” she adds, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about her or her crazy father.  “I wanted to do something nice for him before he, y’know.”

“Died,” you fill, and at that she glares.

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Before he died. So I fixed up his car. But the place I took it to didn’t know how to fix an engine so old, and ended up fucking it up even more.” You nod, she continues. “Then I bumped into Jungkook and—“

“Took advantage of his kindness,” you finish, remembering the twinkle in his eyes when he’d told you about their encounter, that day in the empty garage that seemed lightyears away. “Well congrats. Hope your dad liked it,” you sigh, push open the door and get soaked to the bone immediately.

“Wait!” Sojin calls, hopping out after you. She’s still as beautiful as she was when you were seventeen, even with rain soaking her entire being. “I didn’t ask him to repaint it, but that’s what my dad loved the most.”

You want to go inside, make your stew, and cry in it.

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by the bangs that stick to her forehead or the water that washes down her spine. “When I told him Jungkook did it… he wanted to see him. Apologize and stuff.”

You snort. “Apologize,” you repeat, tightening your grip on your shoppings bags. “For what, Sojin? For almost killing him with this car or for treating him like shit for five years?” She says nothing, stares at the hood of the car like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “He was crazy for you, you know that? He would have done anything for you and not once did you stand up to your dad for him. You let that man call him worthless, stupid, a waste of space. And for what? For you to break up with him for some rich asshole who would never treat you half as good as Jungkook did?” You sneer.

The rain feels cold and your groceries feel heavier, so you whirl on your heel and make for your building entrance.

“He never liked me,” Sojin calls out, and you wonder if she even heard the second half of your emotional outburst. You turn to face her with fire in your eyes, and are only a little surprised at the sadness that paints hers. “He never liked me the way he said he did.” You could knock her teeth out.

“You’re stupid,” you spit, and she rounds the car at an insane speed until she’s glaring down at you over her perfectly sculpted nose.

“He never liked me,” Sojin repeats angrily. “He was always busy looking at you—for approval, for attention, I don’t fucking know. He would hold me and touch me but it never felt real. It always felt like practice for him…” she sniffles and your breath hitches in your throat. “We dated all through college,” she says like you don’t know, like you didn’t stress about it for years. “Everyday closer to graduation felt like a ticking bomb. Like he was just waiting for you to come back. To come home.”

You remember it.

The excited texts he’d send you everyday, the plans he made for you. Jungkook was more excited than your parents about you coming home. The five hours had done a number on him, and after four years all he wanted was to have you close again. You remember the hug in his driveway, the way his mom had told you he’d waited all day for you. It’s weird hearing it from Sojin.

Too overwhelmed, you decide to deflect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur, and you’re surprised she hears it over the pouring rain.

A loud scoff. “You’re stupid,” she repeats back, jabbing a finger at your chest. You glare, and so does she. Like two animals in a cage you size each other up. “You’re stupid and ugly and I hate you,” she spits, and you drop your shopping bags to lunge at her.

You don’t swing, just grab her by the shirt and move to slam her against the wall, but she’s tall and a little strong, bony fingers wrapping around your wrists like spiders. “Why can’t you see how much he likes you?” She screams, like it hurts to admit it. “He’s been in love with you since forever, and all you’ve ever done is run away!”

“I never—“ you gasp, pushing her away from you. Sojin stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. “I’ve never run away,” you defend, heart beating in your chest too fast to be normal. “Some of us have careers and lives we want to live—I don’t want to depend on a man for the rest of my life!”

She growls, tugs at her wet hair like you’re giving her a headache. Stomping up to you once more, she pushes you hard with both hands, and you barely catch yourself in time. “He would have followed you to that fucking fancy school, but you told him it was better to save money here! Told him to not waste his time and just settle there! You did this to us—to all of us!”

You choke. Lightning flashes behind her, and for a moment all you can see is your gentle prodding, sitting behind him as he filled out applications, big wannabe business brain telling him the easiest way to save money for his auto shop was by going straight into technical school. The small frown on his face that day you’d packed for college, and the way he’d stood in your parent’s driveway until you couldn’t see him anymore, a little spec in your rearview mirror.

Sojin, sensing she’s made her point, says nothing. She scoops up your fallen grocery bags and shoves them into your trembling hands, stomping back to her car and pulling off with a roar, loud and ferocious, and nothing like a kitten.

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

Taehyung invites you to lunch one day, and you go. You’re starving and desperate to get away from work, where you’re paranoid everyone knows there’s something wrong with you. You meet up at a cute little bistro, and he smiles and hugs you when you arrive. You sit in comfort for all of two seconds before he jumps into his interrogation.

“What’s going on with you and Kook?” He asks, casually flipping through the menu. Your hand stills around your glass of water, and you eventually set it down without ever taking a drink. Your mind instinctively maps out a lie, but Taehyung has known you a while now, knows the quirk of your lips when you’re about to lie your ass off. “Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen you at the shop in almost a month. And he doesn’t go out,” he mentions. “I think he spent four nights at the shop before I made him go home.”

You deflate.

Too embarrassed to explain, you flip through your own menu, and when the waitress comes you order the first words your eyes focus on. Taehyung doesn’t push you, just patiently gazes out over the bustling street.

Finally, you break. “We… did a thing.”

“Uh huh,” he nods, reading some ad on the side of a bus that passes by. “Need you to elaborate, babe.”

You squirm. “We… fooled around,” you say for lack of more appropriate wording. There’s a family sitting beside you, and you’d rather die than let some nooby pre-teen listen to the details of yours and Jungkook’s night.

“You fucked?” You choke, make a loud sputtering noise like it’ll drown out Taehyung’s voice to the other patrons. “What’s wrong with that? We all knew it’d happen sooner or later,” he shrugs.

“No,” you seethe. “We didn—I didn’t.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, the same way Sojin did that day on the sidewalk. You almost throw your glass of water at him. “We…” you sigh. “We did a thing, and then the week after he went out with Sojin.”

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention of her, so the glass of water is returned to its coaster. “Really? He went out with her right away? He’s cancelled.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “He… her dad has cancer and is literally on his deathbed so she wanted to fix up his car for memories sake, which he loved, so he wanted to apologize to Kook and thank him for fixing up his car,” you rush out, and now Taehyung chokes, water spewing out of his nose. You shriek, drawing everyone’s attention as you pat down your soaked blouse. “Tae!”

“I’m sorry,” he cries, wiping at the sting in his nose. “He-she, what?!” You ignore him, focus on battling the damp spot on your blazer. “God, that’s crazy,” Taehyung snorts, winces at the feeling in his nose.

After the two of you have settled, the manager kicks you out for your inappropriate conversations and childish behavior. You leave with your tails tucked between your legs. Taehyung holds your hand as he walks you back to your workplace, you quietly fill him in on all the other details surrounding yours and Jungkook’s fallout, from your breakdown in the garage to your weirdly dramatic confrontation with Sojin. “Well,” he claps, slamming a hand down on the traffic light button, even though both of you know it doesn’t work. “That explains a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing down the crosswalk when the light finally changes of its own accord. “Do you,” you pause, feet glued to the sidewalk. “Do you think she was right?”

Taehyung glances back at you, so small and unsure in the midst of a bustling crowd. He smiles, sweet and soft. Rare coming from him. His free hand ruffles the top of your head, and he brings you into his chest. “Babe, the hottest guy in your grade was intimidated by scrawny, pre-muscle bunny Jungkook. I’m pretty sure he feels some type of way towards you.”

Your lip wobbles dangerously, and you bite down on it to stop. Taehyung pats your head, barks at some old guy when he yells at the two of you for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

When you’re outside your office, you speak again. “You were not the hottest guy in our grade, by the way.”

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, you finally have the balls to show yourself again, and you hop on the highway leading out of the city before you can overthink it. The buildings slowly melt away, replaced with cozier homes, tinier shops, and by the time you’re pulling up the street, you’re deep in doubt again.

It’s not that late yet, only a little past sunset, but the garage doors, usually open to the street, are all shut. You frown, pull around the block, reverse into a spot across the street. Locking your car, a gust of wind nearly trips you as you cross the street. The front office is dark, metal shutters pulled over the entrance.

Eventually, you stumble around until you find the tiny backdoor squeezed beside some dumpsters, grateful for the key Jungkook had given you so long ago.

Just as Taehyung predicted, a pair of red jumpsuit clad feet stick out from beneath a car. A nice car, an even older Corvette than Sojin’s dad’s, still shiny despite the model it is. It looks like a show car with the way it glints at you, black paint almost glossy. The only light in the entire garage is a lamp, positioned over the area where the legs are working, and a flashlight that occasionally beams at you when the holder loses his grip. No music today, just the hum of a rotating fan. You creep over.

Jungkook’s humming a song when you get to him, foot tapping idly on the ground. You suck in a deep breath and nudge his foot with the tip of your heel. You have exactly two seconds to jump away when he abruptly rolls out from beneath the car, concentrated features scanning quickly around until they land on you.

The garage is still, until Jungkook jumps into action. “___,” he stammers, stumbling to his feet. The rolling board drifts away, bumping into the corner of the metal table beside you. “Hi, um,” he flounders, brushing his fingers through his hair, palms wiping over the front of his pants. Finally, “hi.”

The bad bitch Chanel skirt-suit you’d worn today fails you for the first time in a long time. Your hands feel sweaty, so you clutch them behind your back. “Hi, Jungkook,” you exhale, and all the emotions you’d swallowed for so long, the feelings that tightened around your chest and throat like boa constrictors, come oozing out, until all you can see is his puckered mouth and twinkling gaze.

He coughs, tries to casually lean against the car, but greatly miscalculates the distance. “What, um, what brings you here?” He asks, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

There’s a box of takeout on the floor he tries to subtly kick beneath the car, and a plastic bottle of soda that makes a loud noise when he tries that too. You twist your lips, watching the anxious shuffling of his feet. You breeze over his question, plaster a tight smile into your face, and ask your own question; “how long have you been here?” Tentatively, you lower yourself onto a rolling stool. “It’s late,” you state the obvious.

Jungkook’s leg bounces, and he pats his hand over it nervously. “Um, an hour? Just working on something,” he answers, cheeks warm as his eyes flicker everywhere but you. “What brings you here?” He repeats, and you know you can’t deflect it this time.

Shrugging half heartedly, you wait for him to finally look at you. When he does, he almost looks away but the glint in your eye stops him from doing so. “We need to talk,” you finally say. Jungkook visibly deflates, lips pulling into a thin line. You contemplate letting him relieve his thoughts first, but you came here with a point to make, for questions that needed answering, and you’re scared one word from him will wash them all away.

“Listen,” you start, smoothing your hand over the edge of your skirt. “I know something weird happened between us, and then I kinda freaked out on you, but… I need you to tell me the truth.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

You swallow, try to push back the frustration that builds in his throat. “Did you ever even like Sojin?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?” A snort. “You’re joking,” he snickers, wipes at faux tears in the corner of his eyes, before your unsmiling face registers and he’s schooling his features. “___, I did like her. I dated her for five years. How could I not like her?”He says seriously, like he can’t believe you would ever question such a thing. 

You exhale, pick at your fingernails. “I met her,” you admit, and Jungkook’s face twists in confusion. “At the supermarket last week. She said you never liked her.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Of course she’ll think that—we’re exes. I doubt she remembers all our best memories,” he sighs, turning back to organize his tool cart like he’s done with this conversation.

Raising to your feet you call his name again, and he hums absentmindedly. “Sojin said you never liked her because you were always chasing after me,” you accuse, laying all your cards out on the table. Your claim startles him, and you watch as he jostles half the tool cart with his surprise.

“She, what?” He huffs, cheeks as red as his jumpsuit. He forces out a laugh, airy and tight like you’re starring in your elementary school play again and the nerves are eating him up. “I-I don’t know why she’d say that.”

He’s flustered, obviously so, as he scoops the metal tools back onto the cart, bumping into three other things before settling back down on the floor to roll under the car. He pushes himself under, and you sternly call out, “Jungkook.” He freezes.

You strut over, brush your hands behind your skirt as you crouch beside him. “Always,” you quietly remind him. Jungkook says nothing. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve grossly misread the situation, if this was just another one of her schemes to drive the two of you apart.

Slowly, Jungkook appears from under the car. There’s a new stain on his cheekbone, brown and slick. He sits up, wide eyes tracing over your features likes he’s trying to seal them in his memory. “Yeah,” he admits, lips twisting as he watches the surprise take your features, before he’s lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, leaving you to stare at the column of his neck.

“I do,” Jungkook admits, pushing through his emotions. It’s hard for him to confess, you realize, watching the way his Adam’s apples contracts and his jaw twitches from having to say so. “I like you so much it hurts.”

His confession leaves you feeling weird. On one hand, you want nothing more than to spring yourself on him and kiss his face until the stray oil marks are gone and replaced with the outline of your lipstick prints. You want to smother him and hold him, let him know he’s yours, always has been.

On the other hand… it’s sad. Going on thirty years and never did the two of you guess your feelings for each other. You doubt either of you are good at hiding them, with the way everyone seems to have known except you two. Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

A hand touches your knee, and you return your attention to his downtrodden appearance, chin tucked against his chest. “Please,” he murmurs. “Say something.”

You say nothing.

Tentatively, you reach a hand out, run it along the side of his head, through his mane, chocolate waves touching his cheekbones. He almost looks like when you guys were kids, round eyes watching your every move. Your hand continues down the back of his head, cupping the nape of his neck comfortingly. Jungkook leans into the touch, even though his shoulders are tense. You soothe your fingers over the tight muscles in his neck.

“Since when?” You inquire.

Jungkook blinks, lets your palm trace along his jawline and cup his cheek. “Since you dated Taehyung when we were sixteen.”

Mentally, you curse every deity in existence for putting Kim Taehyung in your life. “God,” you groan, burrowing your hands in your palms. Jungkook, surprised by your reaction, rolls closer, moves around until you’re crouched between his long legs. “Since me and that pinhead dated for twenty minutes?” You repeat.

Jungkook shifts closer, rubs your back. “It was 65 hours, actually,” he corrects, and the exact duration of your relationship makes you cringe. “I… counted.”

Small and shy, almost embarrassed. You glance back up at him. “Why?” You prod, and Jungkook’s cheek flush, palm stilling.

“Uh,” he starts. “I was nervous? That you two were in it for the long run. And I, I don’t know. It was easier to just count,” he lamely finishes, and his dangly earring whips around with him when he avidly avoids your gaze.

You sigh, catch his hand in yours. “Tae and I would have never lasted,” you tell him, remembering all the times the guy made you pick him up from one night stands in the last few years. “He wasn’t who I wanted.”

His foot jumps, toe tapping against the wheel of the car next to you. He wants to ask, you know he does, but Jungkook was quite possibly the only other person on this planet who could overthink something more than you.

Deciding to ease his worries, you give his hand a squeeze. “It was you,” you confess, feel like an elephant lands straight on your chest. “It is you,” you correct.

His forehead knocks against yours, hard, and you hiss at the bump that probably forms. “What the fu—“

“Tell me it’s not temporary,” Jungkook pleads, eyes crinkled in worry. You’re going cross eyed from trying to look at him like this, so you flit your eyes off somewhere to the side. His hand is heavy in yours. “Tell me you’re not just doing this for closure, or because you want to see what it would have been like, please,” he begs, “that would be so fucked up, because I’m so in love with you I actually think I might die.”

The dramatic confession makes you painfully warm. You nod, your lower lip trembling at the way he looks at you, like you single-handedly controlled this entire world with a flick of your wrist. “I-I love you too,” you parrot back, the first time you’ve ever said it, the millionth time you’ve ever thought it.

Jungkook visibly relaxes, pulls away from you to drop his head on your shoulder instead. Your legs are starting to cramp from the tight crouching position, ankles wobbly in your heels. His hair smells good still, despite the hours he’s probably spent beneath a car, and you gingerly pat the back of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and you repeat it. “I love you,” he says again, and you repeat it. “I lov—“

“Me, yes, I’ve heard,” you cut him off, smile at the snort he releases, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your neck. You’re instantly thrown back a few weeks, to that night on the couch with the limited edition Shrek 2 cups and the wine; the gentle touches that left you trembling for weeks. You inhale quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

His eyes are too soft, face too relaxed as he stares at you. “My legs hurt,” you tell him, quickly getting up. You whirl around, facing the car and digging through your purse like you suddenly have something to do.

“Oh,” you gasp, watch two arms wind around your waist, the dirty red jumpsuit contrasting against the tweed material of your high-end Chanel jacket. Jungkook sighs lovingly by your ear, snuggles his face into your neck. “W-we should go out,” you blurt, nerves jumping when he squeezes tighter, burrows closer. “To celebrate!”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah?” His voice is too low. You’re in trouble. “Celebrate what?”

You squirm, breath catching in your throat when he presses you closer against the hood of the car. “Um,” you shakily exhale, hands splaying out over the sleek surface of the black hood to steady yourself. It’s so shiny you can almost see your reflection. “U-Us!” You finally manage to exclaim.

A kiss against the side of your neck, and your spirit just about exits your body. Your knees feel weak, and you're just about ready to throw another mediocre excuse his way, when something warm and wet traces up the column of your neck. “Kook!” You gasp.

“Shh,” he murmurs, deep voice instantly soothing over your nerves. His hips nudge against your behind, and you jump at the bulge that presses against your lower back. One hand unwraps from around you, gliding down your arm sensually until he’s trapping your fingers on the hood of the car with his own. A swift kiss against your ear. “You owe me, remember?”

You flush, remember the filthy promises your list-addled brain has spewed that night at your house, the almost erratic development of your thoughts as you became consumed in the thought of him. Reminisce on the prod of his fingers against your cunt, his hot breath against your ear.

Suddenly, Jungkook whirls you around, traps you with his gaze as two hands flutter to rest on the small of your back. He’s looking down at you with those lovesick eyes, hooded with lust as they trace over the dip of your Cupid’s bow. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” A soft brush of his mouth against yours, pouty lips guiding you through a kiss, until you’re sighing against him, and he’s pulling away.

Numbly, you nod, almost hypnotized by the soft smirk that overtakes his features as he pushes you down, watches you sink to your knees before him. The concrete feels cold and hard beneath your knees. His jumpsuit is knotted around his waist, and you shakily unravel it, the elastic waistband staring you in the face afterwards.

“Take your time,” Jungkook croons, hand coming to rest on the side of your face, knuckles brushing over your skin delicately.

You tug it down, and one flash of that underwear band has your nerves flying out the window. You shove his t-shirt out of the way, let your hands trail over the ridges of his abdomen in your haste. He helps you by tugging it over his head. With that gone, his black boxers stare you in the face, and you yank those down with no hesitation.

“Jesus, baby,” Jungkook chuckles, though it’s choked off when you grasp his engorged cock in his hand. You should be surprised, marveling at the sight, considering it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. But you brain is working overtime, too immersed in the vein that runs alongside it and the tip that throbs back at you. Later you can worship it, you think. Right now, you needed it down your throat.

The tip is flaming and swollen, his cock still growing plump in your hold, your hands slowly dragging up and down the length. You lean forward, press a gentle kiss below the mushroom head, trail kisses down the length until you're meeting your knuckles, and trail them back again. Jungkook sucks in a tight breath, leans to rest his palms on the car behind you, as he watches you on him.

A head of precum escapes, and you lunge for it, swirl your tongue in and around the slit on his cock, until his entire body tenses up. “Fuck,” he grunts, watches you ease his cock into your mouth. You groan at the stretch, the drag against the corners of your lips making your eyes roll backwards. “___, baby, a little more?” He asks, voice hoarse as he watches you sink down further on his cock.

You comply, close your eyes and focus on relaxing your throat. There’s a hand on the back of your head, impatiently pushing you down his length. “Shit,” he cries, unconsciously ruts against you. You gag, and he shushes you with a caress against your cheek. “Sorry,” he huffs, “just a little more for me, okay?”

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, you let him push you down until his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t take anymore. The prod against your throat has tears springing to your eyes. “Gonna move now,” Jungkook announces, thumb brushing away the tears that collect in the corners. “Be good.”

He drags himself out, your saliva coating every inch of him, and when just the tip is resting on your tongue, he shoves back in. You whimper, palms digging into his thighs. Jungkook brushes a hand down your hair, soothes you for all of two seconds before he’s pulling out and doing it all over again. He picks up the pace, loses himself in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, tongue dragging over his cock.

The feeling in your throat burns, each thrust of his hips against your mouth making your jaw more and more sore. But god, it feels good to have him so close, his scent swarming your sense, groans like music to your ears. You want to please him, want him to feel as good as you did at your place. You want it even more now that you know how he feels, know he’s probably thought about this before.

A brutal thrust has you gagging, throat contracting around his length. “Shh,” Jungkook sighs, the fingers buried in your hair flattening out to run over your head. “Doing so good for me, beautiful.”

You bask in the praise, let a hand flutter down to the apex of your thighs, pressing down to relieve some of the pressure. Jungkook groans, rolls his hips against you and keeps you there for a second. Your throat spasms, his dick pressed hotly against it, and you feel your panties grow embarrassingly sticky. Eventually, he draws back out.

“You like this?” He hums, rutting against you faster now, nose brushing against the sparse hairs on his pelvis with every slam of his hips. You nod around a gag, eyes clouding with tears, lips slippery with saliva and precum. One particular thrust is so hard, it nearly sends you knocking back into the car, Jungkook’s hand on the back of your head barely saving you. “Fucking hell,” he spits, “look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat, princess.”

You moan around him, feel a subtle twitch against your tongue before he’s pulling himself out. “Shit,” he cursed, pushing you away as he goes to grab his own dick in his hand, tugging at it like a madman. “Wh-Where?” He asks, and you stare dumbly at the sight of him playing with himself, almost don’t realize he’s asking you a question.

You take too long, scramble for words too long, and even if you did have one your throat is far too sensitive yo answer. Jungkook grows impatient. Pulling you closer by the collar of your Chanel suit jacket, tugging it open until the flimsy buttons snap, and the tank top you wore beneath comes into view. He aims the tip of his cock towards your sternum, and a few jacks later, he’s coming, cum spurting against your chest. You watch the cum trail down between the valley of your breasts, until the feeling comes to rest against the inside wire of your bra, sticky and gross, sliding along the underside of your boobs. “Shit,” Jungkook repeats, eyes furrowed over you.

Your knees ache, and you nearly trip when you stand up, steadying yourself against the side of the car. Jungkook seems to regain his sense by then, hand trailing around your waist. You meet his eye, and almost immediately turn away, the blood in your face rapidly rising.

Jungkook laughs. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, gets too close and your noses bump. “Sorry,” he smiles, too shiny and bright for the sinful acts you just committed in an auto shop.

“Put your dick away,” you huff, let him nuzzle closer to you, and when he doesn’t move to tuck himself into his pants, you go do it for him.

Jungkook frowns, swats your hand away. “This dick has places to be,” he informs you, and you scoff.

“Refractory period,” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I’m not exactly gonna stick it in you this instant,” he drawls. “Gotta stretch you out first.”

You go to complain, tell him he doesn’t have to over exert himself. Truthfully, with Jungkook you feel like one good session was enough to sustain you for weeks. After last time, your skin had flowed for an entire week. But then his hand is slithering up your backside, sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass.

There’s quickly drying drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, saliva from when he’d fucked your throat just a few moments prior, that he kisses away. His mouth slots over yours, and your heart and pussy both flutter at the kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet for all of ten seconds, his mouth moving against yours until you feel the wet press of his tongue against your bottom lip, tracing along until you open your mouth. He wastes no time shoving his tongue past your lips, letting it dance with yours as he pulls you closer, hands gripping the globes of your ass. You let him lick his way into your mouth, more and more saliva catching in the corners of your mouth until he’s pulling away with a wet pop.

He pulls away, doesn’t stray too far, proud smirk crossing his features at the sight of your slicked lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, tongue mindlessly swiping over your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes track the movement. “The saliva,” he clarifies. “The spit. You liked it at your place too,” he reminisces, moving in on you again. “Liked watching me slobber and spit all over your body. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You blush, discreetly rub your thighs together. “I-I do,” you admit, willing the warmth of your face away because at this distance he must certainly feel it.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t say anything else as he captures your lips a second time. He doesn’t bother with the gentle prodding anymore, jumping straight into tongue right away. He’s messier, letting his saliva coat your lips and drip down your mouth, and as messy as it is, you love it. You whimper when he pulls away, but gasp when his hand tugs at the hair by the nape of your neck, pulling you back until you’re looking up at him.

“Open,” he murmurs, and you do, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.

It should be disgusting, the rev of his throat, the sound of his saliva collecting, and the way his jaw shifts when he’s got enough. It should be filthy, the way he shoots it down your open lips, the way it splatters against the back of your throat. It should be gross, but god do you love it. “Swallow,” Jungkook commands, and you do, feel his spit drip down your throat like it’s your own, whimpering at the feeling. A quirk of his lips. “Good girl.”

You have to bite down the pride that grows in your chest.

Jungkook’s hands continue their mapping out of your behind, eventually ending with a hard squeeze that has you squealing. Automatically, your back arches in surprise, breasts pressing against Jungkook’s chest. He smirks down at you.

“Bet you taste good,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Let me taste?”

“Please,” you beg, nearly losing your shit when he lifts you up onto the car, the cool metal making you jump, heel on your foot nearly kicking the side view mirror clean off. “Wait, Jungkook,” you sputter, glancing down at the sleek metal. “This is someone’s car.”

Jungkook ignores you, pushes your legs apart to slot himself between them. His palms run up your legs, over your thighs, until they’re toying with the hem of your skirt. Mocha eyes glance up at you, as if daring you to question him again, so you promptly zip your lips shut. The skirt goes, ever so slowly, over your thighs, bunches up at your waist until he’s staring at your lace panties.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose faintly brushing against your skin. The kisses trail over your skin, until he’s hovering over your panties, and he’s staring like a man starved. He gives no warning, suddenly leaning down to press his mouth over your party-clad folds, nose flush against your clit. “Kook!” You squeak, hands flying to clutch at his hair.

Jungkook mouths at you, drags his tongue against your panties until they’re soaked in both your essence and his saliva, just how you like. A hand slithers around your leg, wrapping around until he’s got a firm grip on it that he uses to hold it open.

“J-Just take them off,” you gasp, squirm when his mouth moves towards your clit, lapping against you. “Please,” you cry.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook tortures you with those kitten licks, muted through your panties, until you’re begging him to stop, to take them off and do it right. He loves it, you can tell, dazzling smile peeking up at you every time you tug against his hair, until finally, he’s had enough.

The underwear comes off, dangling uselessly by your ankle, and then the show really begins.

“Wait,” you choke, head falling back against the hood of the car when he finally gets his mouth on you, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. The niggling reminder that this is some stranger’s car he’s eating you out on rings in your brain, and perhaps that’s what makes it more exciting.

His mouth is warm, tongue flicking over your sensitive bud like it’s candy and he needs the sugar. The sounds are so loud and wet, the squelching of your pussy every time he pulls off a pop that resounds throughout the garage. He pampers your clit for what seems like hours, switching the movements of his tongue every time he gets the chance until you’re quivering.

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

Fingers slide up your thigh, featherlight, as they reach your drenched cunt. They drag over your lips, and you mewl, feeling the muscles jump and tighten at his touches. “Jungkook, please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, but it’s hard and everytime you move, you feel the sweat on your skin weigh you down, glued to the metal beneath you.

The first finger breaches you, just the tip of his index slowly wiggling inside. You muffle a moan in your palm, and Jungkook pulls away with a huff. “No hiding,” he warns, slowly lowering back to your cunt with a stern glare. You nod, but can’t help it when his second finger pushes its way in and you bite down on your knuckles.

“Oh,” You sob, body quivering as he begins scissoring his two fingers inside you. With your attention focused on the digits sheathed inside you, he pulls away from your clit, bestowing one final kiss against it that has your foot kicking out wildly. “Th-there.” His other hand catches your palm in his, presses it against the metal by your head.

Jungkook smiles, curls his fingers around until he finds the soft spot inside you that turns you to jelly. “There we go, beautiful,” he purrs, pushing himself to his full height, leaning over your trembling form. “So sweet for me,” he sighs, licks his lips like he’s remembering your taste.

“I'm gonna,” you choke, become hypnotized by the dark cloud in his gaze, the arrogant smirk on his lips. He curls his fingers, palm brushing against your abandoned clit. The touch makes you jump, nerves tingling.

“Cum for me,” he encourages, silky tone swarming your head as your pleasure slowly washes over you. It’s probably the most relaxed orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, his low voice and delighted eyes guiding you through it, until your entire body clenches, dissolving in a puddle of contentment. Your arousal surges around his fingers, trickling down onto the metal.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you pant, overwhelmed from the touches and the kisses. Jungkook’s smile gets swallowed by your greedy mouth, desperate for more kisses now that he’s made you feel like this.

The kisses only placate him for so long, and when he presses his body against yours, there’s an awfully hard cock that slides against your dripping cunt. “Think you can go again, gorgeous?” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping at the skin on the way down. You nod, eyes falling shut at the warmth you feel in your bones.

Jungkook kisses your neck one last time, before leaning back once more to line himself up.

This was a scene straight from your teenage fantasies, a dripping, shirtless Jungkook at full mast between your thighs, looking at you so lovingly. It makes your heart thunder, imagining how long you could have been doing this if you weren’t both so stupid. As if reading your thoughts, Jungkook rubs a palm over your thigh, eyebrow quirked. You nod his concern away, squirm closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook sighs, moving his hands to your hips as he slowly pushes in. His fingers, bless their intentions, could have never prepared you for the size of Jungkook’s cock, thick and veiny as it pushes inside. You whimper, clawing at the hands on your waist that stop you from impaling yourself on it fully. “Waited so long for this.”

“Then fucking do it,” you beg, nearly pass out when he shoves in harshly at your tone. “J-Jung—“

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, jostles you until you’re flush against his cock, clit brushing against his pelvis. Your back arches, and Jungkook slips his arm around you, the other lingering on your waist.

Every subtle shift has him brushing along your swollen clit, and you sob at the sensation, begging him to move. He complies, changes his stance to make it easier, and finally begins thrusting into your throbbing pussy.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes zeroed in on where the two of you meet. You would have looked too, if your body hadn’t felt so completely boneless beneath him, the grinding of his cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “So pretty and mine.”

“Yours,” you choke, heart swelling in your chest at his words. It’s almost animalistic, the way he ducks down to bite at your neck, like some animal staking its claim, and you like it. You like it because it’s all you ever dreamed of for so long. “Faster, Kook,” you urge, wrapping your arms around him.

He does as you say, slow and careful thrusts transitioning into a fast piston that would have had you bouncing out of his reach if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. “Fuck,” he chokes, lost in the way you clench around him, lips dragging against his cock with each thrust. “Baby,” he grunts, sweat trailing down his temple, eyes furrowed shut. Eventually, his head falls into the crook of your neck, his weight pressing down on you uncomfortably, subtle ridges on the hood making you ache. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. “All I ever wanted,” he gasps.

You could cry, right now and he’d pull out right away, big heart fretting over your emotional well-being. Which is exactly why you hold your emotions in, let yourself get fully immersed in the feeling of Jungkook pounding you against some stranger’s car and not the inevitable emotional crash you’ll have later.

He fucks like he’s waited all his life for this, and you guess he sort of has if what he’s saying is true. You have no doubt it is, and when his lips suck a mark against your neck, you feel like you’re in heaven. “Almost,” you pant, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Jungkook nods, his hair tickling your jaw and neck, as he picks up the pace. Your cunt swallows him up every single time, suctions him in until he’s shaking, and so are you.

It can only last for so long, your heart and body eventually reaching their peak, and you unravel. His arms are there to catch you, to pick up the pieces and hold you together. You want to cry, you really do, and when the coil in your stomach snaps, you finally do. “I love you,” you sob, and Jungkook shudders, glances at your tear-struck face to push himself off.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, grinds his cock against your spasming folds one last time, and comes mid-thrust, cum spurting inside you. He holds you, just like you knew he would, as you come down from your highs, hot breath fanning across your skin.

You feel warm, loved, and in love, body trembling in sensitivity afterwards. He’s pulled out since, soothingly rubbing a hand against your side. You’d like to say you wouldn’t be anywhere else, but one shift reminds you of where you are.

“Shit,” you groan, taking in your surroundings before letting your head fall back against the hood. Jungkook hums, round eyes looking your way. “We really just confessed and had sex on some stranger’s car.”

Jungkook snorts, leans away just the slightest to look you in the eye. He’s lost in thought, chocolate irises swirling as they drink you in. “Say thanks to Taehyung,” he finally says.

You roll your eyes, and when you shift beneath him, your sweaty skin sticks uncomfortably against the metal hood. “Yeah, let me thank Taehyung for dating me for three days and awakening your crush,” you huff sarcastically, resigning yourself to your new life stuck against the hood of some classic automobile from the 50s. Jungkook laughs, tucks himself back into his underwear. “Thanks Taehyung, for your noble sacrifice ten years ago that allowed me to fuck Jungkook on some stranger’s car—“

Jungkook hums, snuggles closer to you. “Tae’s car.”

“—after confessing our—Taehyung’s car?” You shriek, sitting up with the strength of three football players, Jungkook toppling off you. “Oh my god. No.” Jungkook rubs his elbow where he knocked it against the hood, looks at you with solemn eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawls over his features. “No,” you gasp, mortification crawling up your spine. “We didn’t.”

He tugs you off the car, tugs your skirt down when you wobble on unsteady heels. “Yup,” he says, pops the end of the word like a child. “Say hello to Taehyung’s new car!” He exclaims, patting the hood you just defiled. “Straight from the car auction he went to this morning,” he beams.

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands when you finally spot the puddles of... something on the black hood. “This is terrible.”

Jungkook ignores you, wipes up the mess with some napkins from his takeout bag, but there’s already some that's dried, only fueling your mortification. “Not like he’ll find out,” he shrugs, then narrows his eyes at you. “Or will he?”

“No!” You stutter, carefully rounding the car as if inspecting it for any more signs of the treacherous things you and Jungkook did on or around it. “I-I won’t tell him.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook teases, settles on that rolling stool and pushes himself towards you. There’s a hand easing itself around your waist, tugging you between open legs. Still in shock, your hands flutter around his neck, muscle memory causing you to immediately begin massaging the skin there.

Jungkook sighs into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Too bad Jimin’s not here,” he sighs, and you visibly see his nose grow in arrogance. 

“What? Why should Jimin be here?” You ask, pushing your fingers against the knots in his neck. 

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed, one-eyed glare. He scoffs, “maybe you are as dumb ad Taehyung says.” And then, “hey!” when you tug his ear. He isn’t upset, just tugs you closer until his face is buried against your stomach. “You know country folk like him marry on the spot right?”

“What are you even saying,” you huff, burying your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back to properly look at him. “Why do you care who Jimin marries?” He doesn’t bother answering. 

Instead, Jungkook sighs into the touch, an easygoing smile thrown your way, and for a moment you forget about the trauma Taehyung will have when he inevitably learns about this. “This is the life.”

[ramblingandwritings]

Girls on Film

Here's the plot. You go to the store and Harley starts sending some interesting videos until you get home

Content warnings for anal sex, squirting, pussy eating, hole stretching, sex toys, sexting and reader has a vagina. 18+ for filth

You were standing in the cereal aisle, bored out of your mind while picking out items from your shopping list. Harley couldn't come with you shopping because she was "laying low" in your apartment. Really she could've come out because no one was going to mess with her, but she wanted to finish her binge of Snapped. She was nice enough through the shopping process to send you updates on the cases as the episodes progressed, but shopping was boring without her.

Your phone buzzed while you were throwing different cereals into the cart, you glanced at it and saw a text saying "Don't forget the fruity pebbles💖" The woman had a sixth sense for when you were forgetting to buy something she wanted. You grabbed two boxes and chucked them in before carrying on, wondering why the two of you ate this much cereal in the first place.

Your phone buzzed again while in the line at checkout, you checked the screen and saw she sent a video. You quickly looked behind you to make sure no one was standing there and opened the message. You had no idea what she had sent but knowing Harley, it could be any number of things, from an updated shopping list of stuff she just remembered, a rant about whatever was on her mind or something filthy.

You were greeted with a clip of her sliding a thick dildo in and out of her wet pussy, thankfully the sound was off but you didn't have to hear it to know the sounds she was making from the way her thighs were quivering. You didn't have time to respond before it was your turn to pay. You shoved the phone back in your pocket and tried to ignore the warmness in your face while you handed over some of the money Harley gave you.

You got another text from her while loading the groceries into the car. "You're missing out on all the fun sweetie 💋" followed by another clip of her sitting on the couch, fucking her slick cunt until she gushed on the living room floor. She pulled the dildo out and replaced it with her fingers, rapidly fingering herself until another wave of cum rushed out of her, drenching her hand and wrist. This is the real reason why she stayed back, not to watch a show but to tease you while you ran errands and it worked.

You still had more things to do while out, but you were one video away from saying fuck it and doing the bare minimum so you could get home to her faster. Ignoring the rapidly building arousal soaking your underwear, you pulled into the gas station and went back to the tasks at hand. You felt the vibrating of the phone in your pocket while pumping gas and saw her still sitting on the couch, pressing the large cock head of the toy into her tight asshole, the tip of it abruptly popped in and her pussy twitched as she pushed it in further.

And that's what did it, you finished up at the gas station and floored it home, her bad habits were rubbing off on you as you sped through lights, not caring about the possible consequences. The second you got home, you practically kicked down the door and dropped the groceries on the counter. She had moved from the living room to the bedroom, you could hear Harley's loud moaning from where you were in the kitchen while you put away anything capable of melting or spoiling.

You moved back towards the bedroom and opened the door to see her on the bed fucking the toy into her ass, balls deep.

"I was just about to send you another video. You just couldn't wait to get home could ya?" You grabbed a larger dildo from the bedside table and lubed it up, she watched you prep the fake cock for her with a smile on her face, "That's what I'm talking about, honey." You stripped down and climbed on the bed with her, quickly mounting her face. You heard a muffled "Hell yeah" before she started noisily eating like it was her last meal, she was always happy eating pussy even if she was a bit sloppy while doing it.

You leaned over her to grip her hand and pulled the toy out of her slowly before replacing it with the new wrist sized dildo. Her ass had some trouble taking it, the tip of the cock slowly pushed into her gaped hole, opening it up further. Harley gripped your hips and loudly moaned into your pussy, spurred on by the hole stretching she was receiving. You used your other hand to rub her clit as you pushed the fake cock further into her ass, fucking her at a steady pace, letting the toy go all the way in before pulling it back. Her pussy twitched, it was clear that neither of you were going to last long doing this.

Harley started sucking on your clit and you could feel your orgasm rapidly building, you started fucking her faster, wanting to cum while watching her hole get throughly get ruined by you, loving the way her hole gripped onto the large toy with every thrust. You could feel her moaning into you from the new pace you set before she put her ankle behind your head and brought you down to her pussy and locked you there. You easily picked up on what she wanted and replaced your fingers with your tongue, sucking and licking her exactly where she wanted you to. She tasted sweet to you and she only got louder with every lick to her sensitive clit.

She squealed into your cunt while her pussy gushed on your hand, drenching the bed in her cum. When she caught her breath, she focused on you again and slipped a couple fingers into you while she sucked hard on your clit. Your pussy gripped her fingers and you grinded your slick cunt against her face, riding her through your orgasm.

After the two of you came down from your respective highs, you gently pulled the toy out of her ass being careful not to accidentally hurt her. You went to lay down next to her and pulled her close to cuddle, she immediately wrapped her arms around you. "We should sext more often if this is going to be the outcome." "Yeah, definitely." You rested against her for a minute on the verge of falling asleep before your eyes shot open. "We need to clean up the puddle." You got out of bed and went to the living room, leaving a slightly confused Harley trailing behind you. When Harley saw the floor in front of the couch, she lightly hit her forehead, "Oh, that puddle."

She handed you some paper towels before tearing off a few for herself and the two of you went to work. "We're not getting the deposit back for this place." "Yeah, we are, I'll make sure of that." She nodded in the direction of one of her hidden guns and raised an eyebrow. "Harley, no."

[bangfantanfic]

Our Own World: Chapter 4

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, restrictions/COVID

Type: Hybrid/Yandere/Romance/Fluff/Angst

Authors Note: Hey~ again, so sorry I took so longI apologise! I hope you guys enjoy. As usual, I’d you’d like to be tagged for future updates, DM or comment 🥰

“As cases continue to rise officials have announced as of 12am tonight a nationwide lockdown will be enforced.” 

Six pairs of eyes were glued to the large screen, most of them worried-- yours however only showed off pure irritation. 

“-- in order to minimise rising case numbers President Moon announced a country wide travel ban. Non Korean residents will have paid flights back to their home country, Korean residents outside the country will not be let back in until further notice--” 

Your stomach plummeted. You're stuck here for as long as your brother is stuck in the Netherlands.. 

“Y/N?” 

You could hear the men around you calling out to you, but it sounded muffled, like your head was under water. 

The five men around you were panicking at your frozen state, you were like a statue-- even Jeongguk was unable to hide his worry.

Taehyung was sitting by your feet whining, his arms wrapped around his own torso. He had tried to hug your legs, wanting to provide some comfort to your shaking form but Namjoon had nudged him away, sending a warning look before crouching by your side and trying to pull your attention back. 

“Y/N, you need to breathe--relax.” He cooed, his hands balled into fists on his thighs. It was taking all his energy to not reach out and touch you, to hold you and promise everything was okay. “Jay will be fine, he’s safe with Mila.” 

Unfortunately, the boy's sweet attempts to console you only made you feel worse. They didn’t know you were panicking about being here longer. They thought you were worried for your brother's safety. 

But you were only worried about your own.

“Y/N, do you think I could come to the store with you?” Seokjin’s voice asked shyly, his hands tightly gripping one another. “I just thought since I know the boys well— and my ah, physical differences are easier to hide—“  

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at the babbling hybrid. You had grown much more confident with the polar bear hybrid, and even a few of the others thanks to being locked in 24/7. You had still yet to meet Hoseok and Yoongi, and Jeongguk was more than happy to keep as much distance from you as humanly possible, but otherwise, you were somewhat comfortable in your surroundings for once. 

The few occasions you were able to leave the house was to get groceries and other essentials, but otherwise being caught out of the house without solid reasoning would land you a hefty fine and you weren’t exactly financially stable enough to pay thousands of dollars. 

Your brother had been in contact with you, making sure the boys were all doing fine and that you were coping with the news and long term adjustment. He had been supplying you money, and you weren’t sure where he was getting it from. His clinic had been shut since he left the country so it wasn’t from there, but you were too deep in your self pity to question it.  

“Sure, I don’t see why no—“ 

“No fair. If Jin Hyung can go out I wanna too!” Taehyung whined, appearing from thin air. His dark hair hung over his eyes, still dripping from his shower. 

“Your tail is too noticeable.” Jin shrugged, wrapping a long arm over your tiny shoulders. 

The brunette glared at the blond, stomping over to pull you away. Lightly grabbing the pocket of your white hoodie and tugging you into his chest. You wriggled, trying to pull out of his grip but it only seemed to make it tighten. 

“You’re always selfish with her!” The younger complained, resting his chin on the crown of your head.

A dramatic groan came from behind you as Jin, no doubtedly, rolled his eyes at the monkey's words. “I can’t help it if I’m her favourite.” 

Taehyung stiffened. You could feel him grinding his teeth, the sound of his teeth dragging made you feel nauseous. 

“She doesn’t have favourites.” Namjoon cut in, carefully pulling you out of the monkey's arms and wrapping his own around your shoulder. “And Jin Hyung is right, your tail is too noticeable.” 

Taehyung’s wide eyes narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re the only one who can’t keep it still!” He argued. 

Namjoon’s face flushed pink, his jaw jutting out. It was true. Like animals, hybrids often displayed their emotions and moods through tail movements, and while the others had passed with flying colours in emotional control, Namjoon had always struggled. 

“Be that as it may, we can’t risk it. Hyung will go with Y/N and help pick out foods best suited to each of us.” He said sternly, sounding confident despite the pink tinge to his round cheeks. 

You smiled apologetically at the monkey hybrid. He was clearly biting his tongue, arms tightly crossed and eyes squinting. 

“Fine. But when you get back Y/Nie is playing with me.” 

Grocery shopping had always been easy. You only had yourself to think of, but now you had seven others depending on you. You weren’t sure about allergies, or even just what everyone liked and disliked. 

You still needed to get around to those files… 

Thankfully your brother had left behind a card for shopping, knowing your pathetic bank account would ever be able to handle more than one shop. 

With Seokjin leaning on the handles of the shopping cart he directed you where to go, what to grab all while letting you browse and pick out your own snacks. 

“Yoongi and Hobi will be joining us tonight, I’ll need to get more meat. Yoongi practically inhales it.” The hybrid sighed, voicing his thoughts aloud. 

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling softly at the sight of Seokjin. He was dressed comfortably, washed out blue jeans, a white sweater and a red cap. Round glasses sat on the bridge of his nose as he read over packaging, his plump lips pouting as he considered every item. 

“Do you think we could get lamb, Y/N?” He piqued up, dropping three packets of snacks into the cart before waddling to catch up to you. 

“I don’t see why not, it’s my brothers card after all.” You shrugged, grinning. You held back a laugh as his cheeks turned pink, attempting to hide the bright colour he rushed forward to avoid your gaze. 

You had noticed the boys were all easily flustered, you found it funny. Sometimes Jimin or Jin tried to say something flirty, and when you countered back the two turned red and made excuses to run away. Sometimes you just had to talk to them and their faces would turn redder than an apple. 

Taehyung was a little more difficult, most of the time he was rather clueless with what he said, or at least that’s how he played it off to be. 

Namjoon just didn’t try. He just preferred to leave cute gifts for you on your bed; Flowers he had grown that were in season, fruits and clumsily made origami. 

Jeongguk completely avoided you, and Taehyung the little asshole, made sure to tell you the youngest hybrid liked you, telling you how the youngest was always staring at you or asking his brothers about what you were doing. 

“The look that the cashier gave you was so rude!” Seokjin huffed, closing the passenger door. 

You rolled your eyes, starting the car. You didn’t blame the poor girl, you had bought so much food it caused a huge back up, the line running down the isles . You couldn’t even look at the cashier, too embarrassed. 

The car ride was pretty quiet, the only sounds were Seokjin humming along to the radio and the crinkling from the candy packet. He seemed to be deep in thought, and as much as you wanted to ask what was on his mind you forced your mouth to stay shut. 

Sure, you were somewhat comfortable around him and you assumed he was comfortable around you, but you knew that there wasn’t any friendship foundation, you had no right to pick around his brain— no matter how intrigued you were. 

So you stayed silent, while the hybrid beside you happily chewed away at the gummy bears he had begged for. 

As your brother’s neighbourhood approached, Seokjin finally decided to talk. He wriggled around until he was angled enough to look over your smaller body. 

He thought you were pretty. Very pretty.

The way you smelt was enchanting, always leaving him dizzy and fumbling for words, just like now. 

He felt like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing, eyebrows pulled together in frustration as he tried to spit out words, any words. Just something so he didn’t look like an idiot for another second. 

“Don’t freak out.” 

When your head shot over, a crack sounding from the joints making him cringe, he wanted to melt into his seat. He felt his neck and cheeks turn red, an awkward laugh forced passed his lips. 

“Sorry— sorry. I just meant, don’t let Yoongi make you feel uncomfortable.” He clarified, mentally kicking his abrupt outburst. When you raised an eyebrow he took it as a signal to continue. 

“Yoongi can be stiff?” He paused, considering his words. “He can be two ways, blunt and sort of arrogant— which he isn’t I promise!” 

“Or, he’s cocky and imposing. He’ll try to push your buttons, find out what makes you uncomfortable or mad.” He explained, clicking his tongue as he thought. “But don’t worry, Hoseok and Namjoon keep him in line.” 

When the car fell silent Seokjin felt his veins turn to ice. The last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable, or scared. He’d leave yoongi out in the cages before he allowed that. 

“I grew up with Jay, I’m immune to annoying boys.” 

The smile on your lips, although forced, relaxed him slightly. You really seemed to be trying, even if it wasn’t for them and more so for your brother, he appreciated it. It made his insides feel like marshmallows. 

He watched your fingers tap on the grip of the steering wheel, your lips sucked in thin between your teeth as you thought. A cute habit of yours Jin had picked up on almost instantly. 

“I’ll be next to you, I won’t leave your side!” He promised, a hand over his heart and the other up in the air. “Scouts honour— and I can say that.” 

The proud grin on his plush lips made you break out into a small smile of your own. 

“And the other boy?” 

Seokjin dropped a red candy into his mouth, chewing twice before speaking. “Hoseok?” He looked to you for confirmation, seeing your curt nod he continued. 

“Hobi is playful, he gets along well with the younger boys. He can be a bit much, he’s loud. But he’s a good guy, you don’t have to worry about him.” 

“Hoseok— oh for Christ’s sake! Get off! All of you out, they’ll be back any minute now!” 

Namjoon’s scolding voice could be heard throughout the entire house, not that it mattered. Everyone was gathered in the one tiny space. 

The tiny office space that had been converted into a makeshift bedroom was bursting at its seams with the six men all huddled in. 

The youngest three, Jeongguk, Taehyung and Jimin had snuck in to play on the PC’s while you were missing. Jimin hadn’t been interested in playing, so instead he took the chance to snoop through your belongings. 

Hoseok, lonely after a week of separation, found his brothers quickly. But his original mission, finding the maknaes, was abandoned the moment your scented room hit his senses. Your perfume and natural musk stuck to everything in the room, almost as if you had lived in the space your whole life. 

It was mouth watering. 

Ignoring Jimin, who watched the bigger hybrid worriedly, Hoseok joined in the snooping. Mostly just looking through books and sniffing sweaters before getting bored and collapsing onto the fold out bed, an excited laugh filling the quiet room as he rolled over the unmade sheets. 

It didn’t take long for Hoseok and Jimin arguing over the small bed to wake up Yoongi. But unfortunately he got to the mess a little late, arriving just as Namjoon did. The younger boy practically tore out his hair as he tried to remove his pack from the room. 

Failing, obviously. 

The situation was quite funny to the sleepy hybrid. Yoongi’s snickering was infuriating the Wolf hybrid further, his anger and panic almost over powering the soft feminine smell that you had left behind. 

“— Jeongguk you know you aren’t supposed to be in here! Taehyung, you’re supposed to be making sure he doesn’t cause trouble, not helping!” Namjoon groaned, head in palms. 

The youngest two barely looked away from the screens, their eyes only momentarily flickering over to Namjoon. So instead Jimin piped up, stepping out from behind the much taller hybrid. 

“We just thought since she was gone we could take advantage—“

“You thought it would be okay to sneak through someone’s personal belongings!?” 

The fox hybrid turned bright pink, his ears flattening to the top of his head. Guilt flooded his features as he practically dislocated his fingers behind his back. 

“That wasn’t my intention—“ 

Their leader was livid, and not even for being disobeyed. He was familiar with the feeling— jealousy. They all smelt like you, and now your room smelt of them. 

You smelt like someone other than him— and to make it worse, your musk had been mixed with multiple other male hybrids. It made his stomach churn. 

“Your intentions don’t matter anymore.” He snapped, pointing to the door where Yoongi rested. “Out, all of you.” 

Not a single person made an effort to move, all five pairs of eyes locked on their leader almost as if they were daring him to try and remove the group. The whole situation was amusing to Yoongi who still hadn’t said a word to his brothers, just watched everything as he usually did. 

But the sound of your tires crunching on the gravel driveway sent the boys flying for the front door before an argument could breakout, much to his disappointment. 

Yoongi and Jeongguk were the only two that waited in the living room, not reacting to your arrival with enthusiasm. 

“Y/N! You’re home!” Taehyung cheered, running out the front door, ignoring the stinging pain of the sharp rocks stabbing into his bare feet. 

Before the monkey hybrid could pull you into his body for a hug he was yanked to a halt by Jin. 

“Help with the bags first.” He scolded, shoving the heavier bags into the younger boy's arms. 

Whining Taehyung obeyed, his knuckles turning white as he practically ran to dump the bags in the kitchen. Namjoon and Jimin followed in Taehyung's direction, arms full with heavy bags until everything was unpacked. 

 It was after everything was put away where it needed to be that Taehyung engulfed you in his arms, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. He was breathing in so heavily you felt like the boy was about to inhale your skin. 

“You were gone for so long--” He paused, his arms tightening on you as he shuffled around. Your back was now facing everyone so Taehyung could glare at his elder. “You hogged her on purpose!” 

Seokjin groaned, the younger boy's accusation not even bothering him. He knew his brothers had grown attached to their temporary carer. He was however beginning to worry that everyone was experiencing the same feelings. Your original four weeks of house sitting was officially up tomorrow, and he felt selfish knowing you were stuck here until the government decided otherwise, and not only their government but the Netherlands too. 

He had been so excited the moment he heard you step out the car. The moment your car tires had stopped crunching on gravel and your door swung open the strong scent of Spring hit him-- despite it being WInter. You smelt fresh, like flowers and pollen, and yet sweet like sugar. You smelt perfect. 

The first time he saw you, the night you come out with their meals he almost dropped to his knees to worship you. Long (H/C), wavy hair hung down your back, messy and slightly knotted from your hands attacking it. Your glasses were dangerously low on your nose as you struggled to drag the chunk of elk meat across the ground. Your lips were pouted, but he could tell that even if you weren’t sulking they would look nearly the same. You were pretty like a doll. Small, petite shoulders and rounded hips and plush thighs he dreamed of falling asleep on. 

You were perfect, and his. 

Until he realised, maybe you weren’t just for him. 

[vixenpen]

Dabi smut with a teacher. Like in some quirkless au or something (He’s scarless but hella pierced and tatted), he had to pick up kid!Shoto one day and he sees his hot black teacher (Sis got thickness and curves for days, even in simple clothes) So he consistently picks up Shoto (even when he doesn’t have to) just to hit on her and when he finally scores a date with her, he’s at his limit after seeing her in casual wear and how amazing her personality is.

I LOVED this request. I had so much fun writing it and the details were amazing! I hope you enjoy

Hot For Teacher (Dabi x Black Reader) Quirkless AU

“Ah, come on kid,” Dabi sighed, expelling a stream of smoke as he waited at the curb for his baby brother to get out of school.

He rolled down the window to air out the car and watched the stream of middle schoolers burst through the double doors and head to their respective busses or cars.

“Shooo,” Dabi groaned, “where are you? I got shit to do, kid.”

He enjoyed hanging out with his youngest sibling, and he had no problem picking the kid up, but he also had a business to help run. If he didn’t get back to the shop in an hour and a half like he’d promised Hawks, he’d get an earful about responsibility and time management and blah, blah, blah.

He leaned back in the driver seat, deciding to give Shoto another fifteen minutes before he texted the kid.

Just then another wave of kids exited the building, Dabi’s bright blue eyes scanned them before landing on the finest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

Her cream colored silk blouse popped beautifully against her rich brown skin and a pair of slacks hugged her wide hips. Her makeup made her dark eyes sparkle and red lipstick painted her pouty mouth.

Dabi sat up, turquoise eyes running up and down that beautiful body of hers as the sexy teacher strutted past to talk to parents and wave good bye to students. When she turned around, his eyes slid down to the fattest ass he’d ever seen and he licked his lips.

Damn it must be hard as hell for her students to concentrate in class.

She turned again and began walking back towards the school. Fuck! If he didn’t stop gawking he would miss his chance. He couldn’t let that happen.

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Dabi quickly stepped out of the car and took leggy strides to catch up with the teacher.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around, her big dark eyes landing on him. Immediately Dabi knew she was sizing him up and wasn’t impressed. She gave that same disapproving teacher look Fuyumi gave whenever she was put off by someone.

Regardless, he flashed her his most charming smile. He may not be a goody two shoes like these other khaki wearing dads out here, but he knew he looked damn better than any of them.

“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I was just hoping you could help me out.”

“Sure,” she smiled back, showing off a pair of pretty white teeth. “Let’s start with that cigarette. It’s against our school policy to be smoking on the premises so if you could.” She cocked a brow expectantly.

Dabi cocked his own pierced brow back in response, but quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby janitor’s cart and threw it away in the accompanying trash can.

Her smile widened. “Great. Now, how can I help you?”

Dabi chuckled. “Well, ya see, I just got this new phone and cleared out all my old contacts. Ya know, new year, new me and all that,” he shrugged, “anyway, my contacts are pretty empty now. So, I was wondering if I could get yours.”

She let out a little snort of amusement.

“That’s your pick up line? How many Girls have had the misfortune of hearing that one?”

“You’d be the first,” Dabi smirked back. “Figured the usual ‘hey beautiful, what’s your name’ line wouldn’t exactly help me stand out.”

“Trust me, you don’t need help standing out.” She replied, eying him again.

“Then that means I’m ahead of the game, right?” He held out a hand, “I’m Dabi.”

Tentatively, the teacher shook it. “Ms. Y/n.”

“Ms. Y/n, huh...” Dabi repeated slowly, his eyes ran over you with a barely masked longing. “Not ‘Mrs’?”

“Not yet.” You replied.

“How soon are you looking to change that?” Dabi asked, his smirk growing a bit smaller and more intimate.

“Who said I was looking to change it at all?”

“Certainly not me,” he replied, “that’s why I asked. I would love to talk more about how much you don’t want to change it over dinner sometime though.”

You fended off a smile. You were not about to give this over confident asshole any encouragement.

“Sorry, but I make it a point not to date my student’s parents.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a parent then.”

“Oh? So you just like to stroll on the campuses of random middle schools and hit on the teachers for fun?”

Dabi chuckled again.

“I’m here to pick up my little brother. Ah, hell, speaking of which, I actually could use your help with that. Kid hasn’t come out yet and I’ve already been here over half an hour.”

Your pretty face immediately crumpled with worry.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

“Oh!” You looked surprised. “Shoto. I think I saw him headed towards the baseball field. I think the team has practice today.”

“Dammit! Really? Well, I better go say hi to the kid anyway. You mind, uh, leading the way?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

Turning, you took the lead and guided Dabi towards the baseball diamond behind the school. You could feel the man’s eyes on your ass the whole way, and couldn’t help but put an extra switch in your hips as you did. Much to his appreciation.

You had to admit the man was fine as hell. The black undercut with lines cut in the side, his multiple piercings and even the colorful tattoos you saw peeking from under his fitted black tshirt were hot as hell. However, you had long since given up on bad boy types. You preferred nerds. Still a little light flirting wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

“There he is.” Dabi stated once the two of you verged on the field. He held up his hands to his mouth and called out: “Yo, Sho!”

The boy looked up, heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had practice today you little half and half?”

“Why don’t you ever check mom’s texts?” Shoto shouted back. “She told you to come later.”

You snickered as Dabi pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.

“Huh. Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered to himself. “Alright, kiddo, I’ll be back in an hour!”

“Can you stop shouting and leave now?! I have to concentrate.”

Dabi laughed before turning back to you.

“Anyway, thanks a lot for your help Ms. Y/n.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Still, I would love to thank you properly. Maybe over coffee.” He said, sounding hopeful.

“Before it was dinner.” You quipped, playfully.

“I know. I‘m just planning for future dates.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It was nice meeting you, Dabi.” With that you turned and strutted off.

“I hope you know I’m gonna keep trying until I get a yes or no.” He called after you.

As you entered the school’s back entrance you could hear Shoto shouting: “Can you please stop hitting on my teachers? I have to see them everyday!”

Unfortunately for Shoto, his plea seemed to go in one overly pierced ear and out the other because almost everyday since then, Dabi made it a point to stop and talk to you when he came to pick up Shoto.

“Hey there, Ms. Y/n. My contacts are filling up fast. You sure you don’t wanna reserve a spot?”

“Sorry Dabi, but my no dating policy extends to immediate family members as well.”

“I hated to cancel our reservations, but you’re left me no choice, Ms. Y/n.”

“Nobody told you to make reservations, Dabi.”

“Dinner was lonely the other day. If only I had a beautiful black queen to keep me company.”

“I’m sure There are plenty of black queens out there that would have loved to accompanying you to dinner.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been you.”

Dabi was unrelenting. Always complimenting how amazing your outfits looked on your skin tone, how flattering your make up was, or if you wore a new hairstyle or new jewelry.

You couldn’t lie. The attention was both flattering and refreshing. Since becoming a teacher, you usually only got hit on by studious academic types. Attractive yes, but straight laced and all the same with their game

Unfortunately a disturbing amount of married dads also tried their luck with you.

But Dabi was different.

He may have been a far cry from your usual type, but he was always perfectly respectful and even funny. Not to mention he was much closer to your own age than other men that came on to you.

He must have started bribing Shoto for help or asking him about your interests too. Because sometimes when he would see you, he’d have a new book to give you or your favorite iced tea from a cafe you always frequented. Which, admittedly, was pretty damn cute.

The tatted up alt boy was actually growing on you. So one day, when both of you least expected it, you finally agreed to give him your number and go on a date.

That was the first time you ever saw him straight up smile. Not smirk or grin. He actually beamed. Just like a little boy who’d been told he could have a puppy.

Ok, ok. You admit it—he was cute.

Hopefully, that charm would extend over to dinner.

When the big date came, Dabi cleaned himself up. Opting out of his usual dark attire for a deep blue fitted Ralph Lauren polo and skinny khakis. He even took out some of his piercings in an attempt to look more presentable. He thought he cleaned up pretty nice if he did say so himself, but it was nothing compared to what you strutted in wearing.

Dabi had gotten used to your stylish but conservative work attire. He was so used to your hot teacher look, that he forgot you probably had some regular clothes in that amazing wardrobe of yours.

And damn did you pick out the most show stopping dress you had. You wore a wine colored dress that cut low in the front showing off those juicy tits of yours and stopped above the knee. The heels you wore made your thighs look even yummier and your ass was jiggling out of control with every step.

Down boy. Down boy. Down boy.

He scolded himself.

“Well, don’t you clean up nicely, Dabi?” You teased.

“I’m Touya tonight, beautiful.” He struck a pose like a GQ model. You laughed. “Dabi was that guy that kept hitting on you, Touya’s the guy that’s gonna try not to screw it up.

“Oh,” you ran a manicured finger along his solid chest, “well, I agreed to a date with Dabi, but I guess Touya could be fun too.”

Dabi licked his lip, and your eyes fell on his tongue piercing, hungrily.

“Depending on how well the night goes, you might see Dabi come out later tonight.” He replied, suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, but could feel your cheeks (and your pussy) warming.

“Boy! Come on.”

Dabi as Touya opened the door to the restaurant and ushered you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was definitely a high end place; complete with soft candle light, a jazz quartet, and a maître d’.

The chemistry the two of you had definitely translated over dinner.

Dabi was just as funny as he always was and he was genuinely interested in getting to know everything about you. He hung on to your every word about the funny things your students did in class. He enjoyed hearing your college stories. He even knew some of the books you enjoyed reading and could talk literature easily.

You discovered that he was the co-owner of a tattoo and piercing shop. He was the oldest of his siblings. And he enjoyed traveling and learning new things.

Dabi enjoyed vibing with you. He loved that your personality and sense of humor was just as amazing and substantial as that body he wanted a piece of so bad.

Dinner rolled into drinks and lasted well into the night. By the time the two of you were done it was damn near four A.M.

From that night on, you and Dabi became practically inseparable. He picked you up from school right along with Shoto for dinner after work, swung by with coffee, bought you any and everything you wanted (he does come from money after all) and after a year of dating, you became more than just a ‘Ms.’

Pt.2

[elizabethrobertajones]

Ask game: 47 and 57

Hiii, thank you :'D

OH NO a super serious one and a super silly one... Don't tempt me with the tonal whiplash aha ;)

47: Does either of them have a secret that could potentially ruin their relationship?

Frog is G'raha's girlfriend and has started tentatively dating Aymeric post-Endwalker, and both of those assholes are in love with Estinien. Alas, she has already experimentally kissed her fellow Azure Dragoon once and it was awful and they both hated it and swore never to talk about it again, and chalk the Incident up to unclear boundaries on account of all the weird dragon magic they shared.

She has yet to discuss this with either of his biggest fans, since Estinien isn't around for them to strike anything up with right now anyway since he's off in Radz-at-Han, and she doesn't exactly want to tell them that she thinks of him as a brother friend only and ruin their fun with a hard No as soon as she negotiated all these boundaries about their open dating life. Especially because she wants G'raha to branch out and explore the things he likes and not be so terrifyingly single-minded about her all the time all day, and the concept of just like, handing him over to Aymeric, who he barely knows personally, to deal with, seems really really poor etiquette and she doesn't have the internet to help her navigate this either :P

So she lives in fear of Estinien wandering back to Ishgard without warning and Frog finds herself at the most awkward intimate dinner date with him and Aymeric ever.

57: Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

... Meanwhile Estinien is off having a hot girl summer fling with Vrtra, and the poor Satrap is having a very, very difficult time wandering the market streets arm in arm with his new lover as they explore the city together and he shows him all his favourite places and tells him their long history that he's seen from the start, because Estinien has no concept of money and unfortunately Vrtra has an enormous treasure hoard like any good dragon, so the discussions about what Estinien is picking up while they shop together are hilariously hypothetical when trying to preach restraint. :3