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ihrthoney · 2 days ago

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alphabet fluff w/ jason todd :)

affection: how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?

jason peter todd is soooooo affectionate. when he loves, he loves. he shows his affection through acts of service. growing up he gained praise by doing things so it’s ingrained in his brain to do things for someone. it’s obviously different when it comes to you because he does it out of love and not obligation. if you’re feeling sick, he’ll make you soup and bring it to you in bed. someone harrasses you in the street? suddenly they go missing!

body: what is their favorite feature of you?

your eyes. the eyes never lie, plus he knows how to read a person’s body given his job. the way you look at him like he hung the moon and stars never fails to calm his nerves.

comfort: how would they help you when you feel down?

as said before, acts of service. he will do everything and anything in his power to make you happy. if all you want is him to skip patrol and lay in bed for 48 hours straight, he’ll call someone to take his shift. (batfam takes his shifts willingly because they love you too and if you need jason then they’ll cover.) he’ll engulf you with open arms and open ears.

dreams: how do they picture their future with you?

i hc he has attachment issues, once you guys have a strong and solid bond, that’s it for him. he doesn’t know what the future holds and his occupation giving him tomorrow is a blessing in itself, so once he’s sure of you you are all he wants and needs. i don’t know if he would ever want to leave gotham given his passion to protect it but i think he would want a house, a solid place to go home to. reluctantly, he lets bruce guys help you guys build your dream house in the safest area possible.

equal: are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

he needs someone who can support him as much as he supports you. he can’t have someone so dependant on him, his job does that enough. you’re his safe space, he wants to be able to come home and not talk or decompress alone without hurting your feelings. it’s a 50/50, until one of you needs to pull more weight so the other can breathe.

fight: would they be easy to forgive you? what are fights like?

it depends on how bad the fight is, sometimes you both have to sleep in separate rooms because of how stubborn you or both of you are, but tension never lasts more than a day. he’ll always forgive you though, always (unless you cheat on him or intentionally hurt him) because you’re his baby and he’s been through a lot so he refuses to lose you over things you guys can both fix. you have to have an open mind as well though! like stated before, it's a give and receive relationship, you need to want him as much as he wants you!

gifts: how do they feel about receiving/giving gifts?

he’s soooo shy, to know he’s being thought of? for you to give him something just because makes his heart beat so loud. i think because of his financial issues growing up, gifts are hard. he likes to save money and he does things to show you love with what he has (like skills), so to be given gifts makes him feel so full. you like to buy him wonder woman merchandise and he cherishes it. hell, you could give him a rock you painted and he’ll treat it like gold. it’s all because you gave it for him. you did something for him!

his love language may be acts of service (on top of physical touch), he still gives you gifts but things like just because flowers, or silly knick knacks that he saw you stare at too long (i love trinkets so that’s me projecting). there’s a cafe on the other side of town but you’re busy working? he’ll surprise you at work during your break with your treats. this man loves you!

honesty: do they have secrets that they hide or do they tell their s/o everything?

obviously he doesn’t go around telling everyone he’s red hood. so for a while he keeps it from you, being careful to keep you out of public eye so you aren’t a target. when your relationship becomes more serious then he’ll sit you down and confess. (i love the concept of his s/o already knowing because red hood always appears by them when they’re out in public. you’re alone waiting for the bus? oh look! red hood!) he’s very nervous to tell you because he does kill, he has done some bad things and he loves you very much (please don’t break his heart.)

he squishes you in a hug when you accept his true identity and gives you a device that allows you to contact him whenever you have an emergency.

(you had a feeling since he made sure your apartment was very secure early on into your relationship, he taught you some self defense. oh and don’t forget the knife you found behind your tv.)

insecurity: is there anything they’re insecure about in your relationship?

his scars. (me personally, i could never care about a person’s scars. it’s sad people think they’re ugly.) he has a really hard time coming clean about what his chest looks like and how it happened (i like the concept of him having an autopsy scar.) it takes a really long time for him to not only show you but allow you to come close to him in that state. you’re completely understanding and always respect his boundaries.

you reassure him that you love him for him and not his looks, but you remind him daily that he’s very handsome. coming back looking completely different does a lot to one’s perception of themself.

even when dating for a few years, you know better than to stare to long at his scars. it has nothing to do with him not trusting you, but mentally for him it’s hard to swallow. the first time you traced his scars and kissed them he cried because you touch him with such gentleness even though the scars are there because of pain.

jealousy: do they get jealous easily, how do they deal with it?

very jealous! not insecure but just possessive, you are his and his only. he’s very tall so no one tries anything with him around anyway and if they do then.. he’ll deal with them later!

you told him to always tell him how he feels but he makes it obvious when he pulls you in front of him to shield you from the world.

he knows when to hold back though, he knows you’re strong and capable, he just wants to protect you as much as he can.

kiss: what was your first kiss like?

like him, the absolute sweetest. it was on your second date, you mentioned how you loved to look at the stars but never went stargazing so he made his personal mission to do so.

he drove you to a secluded area on his bike, a blanket on the ground and two lanterns. he also packed a few drinks and snacks for you both to enjoy. as the sun set, the moon lit up the sky and the stars twinkled around it.

yes he is that boyfriend to look at you instead of the view because to him you are the universe.

it’s nearing 10pm and it starts to get cold, you gives you his jacket even though he told you it would be cold, and as he looks at you he starts to close the gap, “can i kiss you?” you answer by putting your hands on his face and meeting in the middle to a sweet kiss. you kiss until the crickets start to get too loud around you and he kisses you again before parting to go home.

love confession: how would they confess their feelings?

he confesses his feelings through acts so you have to be the one to actually say something. jason knew he liked you after your first date but he hesitates, he’s not afraid of being rejected (he is). he always walks you up to your door and waits for you to get inside before leaving, or pulls you towards the other side so he closest to the road. he confesses his love in the way he always picks you up from work, how tight he hugs you after a hard patrol. despite how rough his hands are, he holds your face softly when he kisses you. when you finally tell him how you feel he’s internally jumping with joy, he grabs your face again and smashes your lips together.

“i’ve wanted you for so long.” “well why didn’t you say something silly!” “i wasn’t sure!” “we’ll work on that together”

marriage: do they want to get married? how do they feel about it?

he doesn’t need a certificate to know you’re the one he wants to watch every sunset and sunrise with but if you want a wedding then he’ll help plan it with you. it’s not something that scares him, he just doesn’t think about it. having anything traditional and normal is a long shot for undercover heroes but for you he’ll try.

nightmare: what is their greatest fear in your relationship?

judgement, loss. losing you, in death or you not loving him, makes his blood run cold anytime the insecurity slips in his mind. he can get quite worked up if you’re reckless, he scolds you for not being aware of your surroundings or not having secure locks to your home.

he’s also terrified of judgment, he craves to be seen and loved wholly with no conditions.

obvious: how transparent are they with their feelings?

in the beginning of your relationship he’s pretty dodgy, he hides his feelings because he doesn’t want to be a burden and bother you. he’s used to having to do things alone, he knows he can. you have to remind him a lot that he’s not a bother and that you do what you do because you love him. you learn how to clean his wounds and sew for the nights when things hurt to much to do alone. it hurts your heart to know how often he’s had to bear things alone so you make sue he knows that with you around he’s never alone.

over time he’s more honest, he relies on you like a lifeline.

pet names: what kind of nicknames do they have for their s/o?

you’re his sweetheart!! his baby! the love of his life!! his honey!

he definitely likes you tease you though, calling you sugar, or pumpkin.

quality time: how do they spend time with you?

dates when he doesn’t have patrol that night, he’ll take you out for lunch or drive around the city. at night, when he’s off, gets off patrol early or just needs a breather, you both lay on the couch in the living room. you make him a warm cup of tea and let him lay in your lap as he reads, your hands in his hair, weaving through the soft strands. the tuft of white hair is your favorite, you like to twirl it in between your fingers. he enjoys the quiet with you, its comfortable and he can feel any pressure and tension leave his body as you caress his face.

if you like to binge shows or do little crafts he’ll join or you continue reading, making sure a part of him is touching you in any way. if you’re on the floor doing crafts, he’ll have his leg stretched out and touching your side, if you’re watching tv he’ll have you in his lap. sometimes you’ll both wake up on the couch or he’ll carry you in the room.

romance: how romantic are they? what do they do to make their s/o happy?

i like to think he’s a romantic, or tries to be. give him a break, he died at 15 and woke up years later. he’s getting the hang of life again so romance doesn’t come easily but from what he’s seen on tv and in books he tries! he holds your hand or puts an arm around your shoulder and brings you close when you guys are out in public, he opens every door for you and pulls out your chair. if you open your own door he closes it and reopens it lmfao.

you like to push his buttons a bit by opening your own door or pulling out his chair. it’s cute how he huffs and pouts.

support: how do they show support to their s/o?

he will cheer you on and support you on any goal you have! he gives advice, asks the batfam (not bruce lmao) if they know how to help or achieve such a goal. he helps you out if you need money even though you tell him not to, he does anyway.

thrill: do they like routine or prefer trying new things every so often?

with his job, i think some kind of routine would be good for him. he doesn’t have to be alert or left wondering, he comes home and you’re home as you said you would be, you’re in the shower after getting off of work and you’ve amazingly prepared dinner.

he wakes up and you tug him to sleep in longer, sometimes you exercise with him but he doesn’t force you to of course.

i think he would really need stability.

understanding: how do they show they’re understanding of their s/o’s needs?

like stated before, he shows his understanding in the little things he does, he always gets them what they want or need even if his partner mentions it one time. if you want some space he’ll give you that but not without making sure you stay safe and take care of yourself!

he cooks for you both to make sure you eat! he needs to stay fit and healthy and with you in his life he makes sure you stay healthy too!

value: how important are you/is your relationship to them?

your relationship is the most important thing to him. he could be in the middle of a shootout and if you call him he’ll quickly reply, “i’ll call you back in 15, okay sweetness? yes dear i’ll be safe. i love you most.”

weird: any quirks?

sometimes his eyes glow green 😁

xoxo: favorite place to kiss? how do they hug you?

he loves to kiss the pulse point on your wrist and neck, it’s his reminder that you’re here with him. it grounds him and he loves the feeling of your heart beating faster when he’s near.

especially when you guys are sleeping, he kisses your neck a lot, he loves how soft the skin is. (you will in fact wake up with marks on your neck, bites and or bruises.)

he likes to hug you and your your head to his chest or blanket around you from behind. if you’re cooking he drapes himself over you and will help you or just poke and tickle you until you shoo him away which causes him to whine, “you hate me, my girlfriend hates me.”

yearning: how do they handle missing you?

not well! he makes it everyone’s problem, the other robins always texts you pictures of him brooding around the manor because he has to be away from you. you have an entire album and collection of him sadly pushing his food away like a child or sprawling on the couch.

his ears turn all red when you show him the pictures and he claims it’s photoshop until you pull up the video dick sent you of jason talking about how much he misses your cooking and the blankets you always had on the couch.

he gets irritated at not seeing you, being a little more brutal when against villains, sadly wrapping his hands in bandages because you usually do it for him. he ignores the glares damian and tim give him for being a sap.

zzz: what are they like to sleep with? are they the big spoon or little?

he runs cold surprisingly, but you enjoy it. you fall asleep very fast because of how refreshing it is to lay on a cool and soft surface. you never have to kick the blanket off at night because of him.

he is the little spoon! he loves to be held and cradled! his favorite sound is your heartbeat, he knocks out instantly, nightmares don’t happen when he’s wrapped in your arms. of course there are nights when you can’t escape his hold but you like it that way anyway.

#ᝰ honeywrites #jason todd #dc jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #robin number 2 #dc robin #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fluff

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shanastoryteller · 3 days ago

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Dean’s minding his own business, sipping on a beer and leering at the bartender, when a guy that admittedly has about four inches and a good twenty pounds of muscle on him storms over and shoves him in the arm.

He tenses, getting to his feet and preparing for a fight even as he’s wondering what he did to piss him off. Maybe the bartender’s his girl? Jesus, Dean was just looking, he can’t get mad at just looking when his girl look likes that.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy demands. “I know you’re pissed at me right now, but just leaving me back there – do you know how many bars it took to find you? You’re a jackass.”

He’s not taking a swing, instead standing with crossed arms – fuck, this guy is huge, he’d really like to avoid a fight here – and scowling at him, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at him. Dean wishes he had any idea what was going on right now. “Look, man, relax.” The guy’s eyes narrow, his shoulders lifting and expanding as he takes in a deep breath, as if he needs any help to look bigger. Before he can say anything, Dean adds, “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Fuck off.” He presses his lips together, somehow appearing smaller in the next moment without actually moving. “Look, I know you’re mad about heaven, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear, but you can’t just walk off and turn off your phone. I figured you were just being an ass, but something could have happened to you. If you’re ignoring me, at least let me know you’re ignoring me.”

The guy doesn’t look like he’s tweaking, or suffering some sort of head injury. His eyes are clear and his voice is steady. But Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dude, you’ve really got me confused with someone else.”

“Dean!” he snaps, which woah, okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. “How do you know my name?”

He stares at him, uncertainty entering his eyes for the first time. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t come across Zachariah or a witch or something in the past couple hours?”

He doesn’t know who Zachariah is, but the casual mention of witches makes him frown. Is this guy a hunter or something? He figures he’d remember meeting him, but maybe not.

“Everything okay over here?” Dad’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and Dean shifts enough to see him giving the guy a hard stare that has sent more than one man running in the other direction.

Dean almost rolls his eyes – he’s thirty one years old, he doesn’t need his dad coming over to save him – but he makes the effort so rarely that Dean can’t help but be warmed by it.

The guy pales, mouth dropping open as he stares at Dad like he’s seen a ghost. “You – Christo.”

Okay, definitely a hunter. Dad raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a demon.”

The guy grabs for Dean, yanking on his hand. Dean jerks back, but he’s already gotten his long fingers around his ring. He pulls it off and Dean is about to break his jaw to get it back, but he tosses it to Dad, who catches it on instinct. Dean doesn’t get it until he does. His ring is silver. He’s checking if Dad is a shifter, which okay, that’s one thing. Dean’s more concerned about how he knows his ring is silver. The guy’s voice cracks when he says, “Dad?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little confused.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. Dean should push him off. “What,” his gaze drops down, and if possible he goes even paler. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

Dean looks down, sees the guy’s eyes stuck on his amulet. “What?”

“I don’t understand,” he says, biting on his lower lip. “Is this some sort of – but you’re still hunters. Is Mom alive?”

Dean flinches.

“Okay,” Dad says. “That’s enough. You walk this off or whatever, but you do it somewhere else–”

“Dad, it’s me,” he says plaintively. “It’s Sam. Your son.”

Dean doesn’t remember moving, only that the next moment his hands are fisted in the front of this asshole’s shirt, his blood thrumming under his skin. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He puts his hands on Dean’s wrists, stupid earnest and soft and Dean’s going to kick his ass. “Dean. It’s me. I have to exist in this world, right? The demon was after me, if I wasn’t here then there wouldn’t have ben a fire, Mom wouldn’t have died, you guys wouldn’t be hunters. I have to be around somewhere.”

Dean tries to shove him away, but he won’t let go of his hands. “Shut up! You don’t – don’t talk about my family.”

The worst thing he ever did, his biggest failure. Sometimes the weight of it gets to be so heavy that it feels like it should be cracking his ribs, pressing his heart until it bursts. Sometimes he wishes it would.

He swallows before letting go with one hand and reaching into his pocket to pull something out. It takes Dean a moment to see it’s his amulet, the one he’s worn since he was twelve years old, back when Bobby still talked to them. “My name is Samuel Winchester. I was named after my mother’s father. I was born on May 2, 1983. When I was eight years old, Bobby gave me this amulet. He said it was a protection charm. I was originally planning to give it to Dad for Christmas, but he didn’t show up. Another in a long line of disappointments, right? So I gave it to you instead. Because even when you’re being a jerk, you’ve never let me down.”

Dean’s eyes are burning. He tries to shake off his grip, but he won’t let go. Why is Dad just standing there? “Stop! Stop. I don’t know what game you’re playing–”

“No game,” he says, gentle voice a counterpoint to the grip that’s absolutely going to bruise. “I need you to believe me, Dean, please–”

“My brother died when he was six months old,” he cuts him off. “Samuel Winchester is dead. He’s been dead for twenty six years.”

His fault, his fault, all his fault. If he’d just listened to Dad –

“Not where I’m from,” he says, and it’s crazy, it’s all crazy. “Please. Ask me anything. I’ll prove it. Hell, let’s go to a clinic, we can take a DNA test. I’m Sam. I’m your brother. And I need your help.”

“You mentioned a demon,” Dad says quietly.

The guy, who’s not Sam, who can’t be Sam, tears his eyes away from Dean to look at Dad. “Yeah. Azazel. The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad rubs a hand over his mouth. “I never told anyone about that.”

Dean snaps his head towards Dad. “What? You said you didn’t know what killed Mom! That we were searching for it!”

“We are,” Dad says. “It never resurfaced again. I’ve been looking for the signs.”

The guy frowns. “He started up again when I was twenty two.”

“Not here,” Dad says, looking him up and down, something hungry in his eyes.

Dad believes him. Dad thinks that this is Sammy.

“Let’s discuss this back at the room,” Dad says. “Come on.”

He heads towards the door, sure that he’s going to be followed. The – Sam, maybe Sam, he rolls his eyes, but goes after him. He only stops when his grip on Dean’s wrist jerks him back, because Dean’s not moving, can’t make himself move. He flushes, letting go of Dean finally, but he takes a step closer. His eyebrows pull together in concern, and now that Dean’s looking, he sort of sees it, sees the planes of Dad’s face and his eyes in this stranger with his brother’s name. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward, shoulders hunched.

Sam falls into step beside him easily, matching his strides like it’s second nature. Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to pretend it means nothing.

#zachariah dropping sam into an alternate universe where he's dead like this will solve ... something #sam earnestly trying to convince dean he's in the better universe because all sam does is ruin everything around him #he tells dean every terrible thing he would have had to endure if sam had survived the fire #all dean hears is that there's universe out there where he's not alone #supernatural

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 17 hours ago

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I wanna see what’s Ace’s family’s reaction when they found out Ace is dating reader Heheheh

I decided to have only Ace's brother present, since Mr. and Mrs. Trappola have yet to receive strong characterization.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The Trappola brothers sat across from one another upon red velvet chairs, and you, between them. They were both intently focused on building a house of playing cards—a task that Ace had warned took “serious patience, coordination, and a gentle touch.” (You had rolled your eyes and responded, “Great. You let me know when you’ve found someone that has all that.”)

Ace carefully laid a Two of Spades down, formed a triangle with a Three of Clubs and a Four of Diamonds. His hand slowly retreated, and the triangle stayed. He expelled a sigh, directed away from the cards so as to not disturb them.

You would have clapped for him, but Ace had discouraged you before the game had even started. So instead, you tapped your index and middle fingers together. Still giving applause, but not nearly enough to rattle the house of cards.

“Your move.”

“Huh, you’ve gotten better at this,” his brother mused. He toyed with an Ace of Hearts, expertly twirling it between dexterous fingers. “Too bad. I was really looking forward to smoking you in front of your new friend.”

“In your dreams,” Ace sneered, passing you a glance. “The last thing I’d want is to look uncool in front of my partner.”

His brother drew himself up in his seat. The card in his hand, stilling. “Your partner? Since when were you two a thing?”

“Oh, you know… since a while ago,” Ace casually replied. “And honestly, I can’t really blame’m. Who wouldn’t fall for my dashing good looks and roguish charm? I’m a catch!”

His brother regarded you with an almost pitying look. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he advised.

You burst into laughter. "I think I'm good. Ace is an idiot, but he's at least my idiot."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you've got a sense of humor. You'll need that if you're going to put up with Ace all of the time. Congrats, you passed the first test."

"Whaddya mean 'put up with' me?!" Ace protested, puffing up his cheeks. A pout--adorable, you think.

"I mean it exactly how I said it. It's practically a full-time job dealing with you," his brother replied cheekily. "You gotta prepare people for it, or else they won't know what they've signed up for."

"Oh, come on! You're making me sound way worse than I actually am."

"This, coming from the guy who ghosted his ex?" He smirked, and you could see the family resemblance in it. The slight narrowing of the eyes, the way his mouth angled. "I dunno, I was half expecting you to stay single forever after that royal screw-up, lil' bro. You're lucky you found someone willing to take you~"

Pink exploded onto Ace's cheeks. "H-Hey...!" he hissed, leaning toward his brother. "Did you seriously have to bring that up?! Have a little more tact, will ya?!"

The older Trappola grinned. "Gotcha."

You realized why.

Ace's sudden movement had sent a slight breeze against the card house. It wobbled from top to bottom--then the structure collapsed in on itself, the cards all folding into one another. Within seconds, the house was a pile on the coffee table.

Ace fell to his knees with a pathetic wail, scrambling to salvage his hard work. His brother looked on, chuckling. A card, still in his hand.

"I didn't place mine yet," he declared triumphantly, "and since you made the house fall, it's technically my win!"

"Y-You sneaky...! You taunted me on purpose!!"

"Yeah, and it worked like a charm." He flicked Ace on the forehead. "You were too busy trying to flex in front of your S/O. It was easy to take advantage of that. You always were a cocky, predictable brat."

"Grrrrr..!!"

"Ace, it's fine," you soothed him, a hand on his arm. "You did your best. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Tch, there you go being all sappy again... You're so lame sometimes," Ace grumbled--but he covered your hand with his. A small gesture, but a reassuring one.

"Hahah, look at you two lovebirds," his brother teased, wagging a finger at you. Then he reached out and roughly ruffled Ace's hair, despite his complaints and attempts to swat him away. "Happy for you though, lil' bro! You gotta tell me how this love story started--"

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Ace Trappola x Reader #Ace Trappola #Reader #self insert #NRC Family Day #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios

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oimitocat · 1 day ago

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IN A MOMENT U & I | OS

lee minho x m!reader

super hero au! + mind control + death themes + blood + crying + hurt/comfort + angst + fluff [ s/n = superhero name]

a/n; this sure did take me a while…. lots of minho love here lol (black widow minho won’t leave my head)

“where are we going? it’s hot, i’m sweaty and my feet hurt,” he whines.

his smile is wide- wait, who’s smiling at him?

“you can’t resist this, lee know. everything went my way when you just had to be stubborn and prove yourself!” someone cackles, “my mission will be completed once you get rid of s/n.”

minho growls, trying to get out of the restraints. that’s right… he had separated from the group and went ahead and-

there’s a snap. he doesn’t know if it came from inside his head or outside. suddenly, all he hears is static.

“what’s so cool about this place? it’s too quiet…”

“don’t you like peace and quiet?” he snickers. “look around, take in the place.”

with a small pout, he looks around. it’s eerily quiet, yes he does like peace and quiet but something’s off about this. it’s an unsettling peace. the waves roar as they crash into the sand. he looks away when an unsettling feeling sinks to the bottom of his stomach. he turns around to face-

“minho?” there’s disdain in your voice.

good.

“minho! WAIT!”

there’s a loud resounding crack when he slams down his batons into your arm. you don’t want to hurt him, this isn’t lee know. this isn’t your minho. you won’t hurt him. you could never bring yourself to do so.

“kind of hard to fight someone you’re so in love with, right?” a voice booms over the platform.

you and the rest of the group had located minho and the enemy to be here in a shipyard. it’s not abandoned, chan and felix had to evacuate the workers and any bystanders. jeongin and jisung were busy fending off the stupid robots fighting them off to come for minho. you had managed to sneak past, giving the green by chan.

you didn’t think minho would be-

“min! you’re being mind controlled!”

“he won’t hear you! all he hears are my orders!”

you growl, sliding away from minho before he slams his batons down on your head. he had activated the weapon’s electricity discharge and if you got hit by them you’d be out for a bit. you hop off the floor, groaning when you use your arms to push yourself off the cold, wet floor.

“hey, ji! could you try to figure out where the guy controlling minho is?” you ask into your in ear as you run down the hollow shipping containers.

“huh? he’s being mind controlled?”

minho connects his batons to make a long staff, extending it for facility. you groan, knowing you’re about to get your ass kicked.

“me and jeongin just defeated these shitty robots!” jisung announces, “we’ll try to find the guy, i’ll move to seungmin okay? don’t get your ass beat!”

“kinda hard when you know minho is my weakness-“ you jump minho slides to kick your feet.

you pant, landing a bit farther from him as he spins and gets on his feet swiftly. any other time you’d be enamored at how easily his limbs move during a fight. you’d be captivated by his acrobatic attacks, except you’re the prey this time. his feline like eyes are aimed at you with the intent to kill.

he charges right at you and you refuse to strike back every time he aims a blow at you. minho’s attacks are fast. he has fast combinations and you have no choice but to take out your sheaths to keep up with blocking and redirecting.

your own weapons are shattered when he slams down his staff. he has brute strength, sends you to the ground. with minho you have to be quick- so you grab his staff and slam it down the side, taking him unguarded for a second enough to leave from under him. however, your back is faced towards him and he takes little to no time to slam the hilt of his staff into your lower back. you groan out in agony and fall forward.

“s/n~,” the loud voice booms again, “how does it feel to have your lover kill you?”

you grunt when minho crawls on top of your face. at the sound of disassembly, you realize he had transformed his long staff back to his two batons. you can’t apply any force on your left arm- it’s probably broken. you think fast, pulling out your own baton from it’s strap on your thigh. slamming it’s edge to the floor, you pressed a button and the baton extends to something twice its side. it send you flying to the side, minho falling off of you. with ease, he slide to his feet. you stagger, eyeing him.

“i think your main mistake was flaunting your little relationship in a fight between that last villain you took out a few weeks ago.” the voice is crazy loud, where the hell is jisung? “rumors spread you know.”

you fall to the ground when minho jumps off the floor, using his staff again as grounding to side kick your head. good thing you saw it coming, using your left arm again to block the attack. as his feet touch the floor, his arm is already swinging his staff into your rib.

“ah, people in love make me sick… but seeing you two dance around like that makes me wish i had someone.”

“piece of shit,” you grunt as you hug your side and dash off again.

minho is a fast runner, not faster than chan but for sure faster than you. him jumping off the boxes and tired laying out in the ground wasn’t helping your case. he throws a baton at you from a short distance, it electrocutes you at the touch. with a cry of agony, you fall to the floor.

his soft but heavy footsteps draw close to you.

“i don’t really like walking down the beach, the sand feels weird,” he says as he turns to the other person, hoping they get the gist and take him somewhere else. yet, as he looks at them, he notices that not only can he not see their face, but they’re kneeling before him.

“minho…”

“minho,” you gasp between his blows.

he has one hand holding you down by the neck. his strength there isn’t enough to cut off circulation or even try, but it’s strong enough to keep you pinned in your weakened state. his other hand is holding the baton and bashing it to the side of your face. one of your hands is gripping his hand on your neck and the other trying to hold off his other hand.

“s/n you’re one of the most strongest heroes out there and yet you’re dying in lee know’s hands? how embarrassing for you. one single punch could have him disadvantaged easily.” the voice booms again.

your ears are ringing. with minho’s body sitting on top of you, your breathing is harder. your rib hurts, his pressure isn’t helping. your bleeding from your mouth and your nose.

“will you really die at his hands?” he scoffs, “you could have at least made this more entertaining-“

the voice cuts off.

“WE FOUND HIM! S/N, JUST HOLD ON A LITTLE LONGER!”

“about time!” you groan, yet your arm weakens and he slides out his hand to hit you once more.

“it’s about time we move forward in our relationship, don’t you think?” they say with a smile.

you use all your energy to lift up your legs and flatted your feet on the ground. your going to pass pass out if you don’t do something. you can’t die, minho’s grief will eat him alive. you have to hold off as much as you can until jisung and jeongin defeat the villain. you thrust upward, quickly pivoting off the ground once he’s off you for a split second. he falls forwards, hands pushing him up and helping him land on his feet after a cartwheel.

you stare at him through one eye. the other shut closed from the blood that dripped from your temple down.

“KILL HIM!” the voice booms.

minho charges at you again, but before your feet move, he throws takes out something from his pocket and throws it at your feet. you get electrocuted again. in the few seconds that your body is shaking from the electricity, you knocks you down with a kick to the stomach.

“IF THEY GET RID OF ME I NEED TO MAKE SURE S/N IS GONE BEFORE THAT.”

“s/n hold on!” jeongin yells through your in ear.

you can’t really hear him. agony is taking over, your losing consciousness.

“min…ho,” you cough as he gets on top of you again.

“don’t you think, minho?” the man smiles, he thinks it’s a pretty smile.

he can’t even enjoy it though, the waves are roaring louder, he wants to leave. he lowers his hand despite it, eyes shimmering at the sight of the ring. this is a beautiful moment… but what’s wrong?

“MINHO!”

he freezes.

he snaps his head to the side, seeing chan charge straight towards him. what the hell? he feels lightheaded. actually, his head is pounding. he tries to stand up but when he looks down to hoist himself, he sees you.

bloody.

his blood runs cold. his hands tremble and when he sees that he’s holding one of his baton’s- which is dripping with blood- he can’t breathe. did- did he-

“minho-“, chan tries, panting when he reaches you two.

“nonononono,” minho gets out, frantic when he takes in your bloody face and your closed eyes. he grabs your face as he sobs, trying to shake you to get you to open your eyes. “y/n-“

“minho, y/n is-“

“NO SHUT UP!” minho screams, sobbing. he can’t bear to hear it.

he keeps shaking you, begging you to open your eyes.

“hey i need backup here! chan can you come?”

chan hesitates before stepping away.

minho gasps, letting go of you when you don't open your eyes. "no, no, no!" he screams, scrubbing his face with his bloody hands.

what is going to do? this is- "ALL MY FAULT," he sobs.

he's busy crying into your hands when you finally do open your eyes. one of them burns, probably from the blood that had dripped into it. still, you use your energy to put your hands on his hips,

"baby…" you croak out. "i'm not dead-"

"YOU PIECE OF SHIT," he sobs, throwing himself on you to cry into the crook of your neck, "I'M SORRY!"

you groan, screwing your eyes shut. "ack- min- babe- get off- i can't breathe. i gotta broken rib or something-"

minho doesn't stop crying. he quickly scrambles off of you, begging for forgiveness and asking if you're okay.

"hey, hey," you wheeze out, "it's okay. i'm glad they handles it before you really did kill me."

and minho cries harder.

it takes a while for seungmin and felix to come. seungmin uses his powers to facilitate moving you to the ship without putting you in more pain. minho doesn't leave your side even when you're back at the base getting checked and undergoing surgery.

he can't forgive himself for- "being so careless. i should have listened to you when you said something was off about the hideout. i should have waited-"

"hey, shut up," you tease, squeezing his hand. "i was just happy to know you were safe. you being mind controlled was better than finding you dead."

he swallows, looking at your patched up figure. "at least you held me off pretty long…"

"you saying i can't handle you?" you pout.

"if you put it like that…"

"get out."

"no! you're my responsibility-"

"i'm your fiancé."

"exactly." minho eyes you down before smiling. "i really wouldn't have known what to do if you were really dead…"

"probably go even more insane." you tease, which earns you a slap on the arm and you groan.

"SORRY!" he winces.

“give me a kiss and i’ll forgive you,” you say.

he doesn’t even hesitate.

69 notes · View notes

focusonkayjay · 15 hours ago

Text

between the ride and the roses (5)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 5.8k

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mentions of an injury, jungkook is drowning in the sea of denial, heavy angst, misunderstandings, disagreements

A/N: well, i don't have much to say about this chapter. however, i am making a taglist, so please let me know if you want to be added <3 thank u for making it this far into the series, stay tuned for more !!

part 5: gears and vines of tension

You absently twirl the ramen in your bowl, your chopsticks moving in slow, deliberate circles as a heavy sigh slips past your lips. The warm steam rises from the broth, but it does little to soothe the tight knot forming in your chest.

Just an hour ago, the townhall meeting about the town fair ended, and now you find yourself seated at a small booth in a Japanese restaurant just around the corner, surrounded by your friends who, as usual, are keenly aware of what's going on in your mind..

You try to focus on the food, the familiar scent of miso and soy sauce, but your mind keeps drifting back to one thought: Jungkook. The idea of working with him for the fair that is set to happen two months from now, has lodged itself in your brain, and you can’t shake it off. Of all the people in this town, it had to be him, the one person who managed to make your blood boil with nothing more than a glance.

It's almost amusingly comical, if it weren’t so frustrating. The universe, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor, and today, it has decided that you must work side-by-side with him, out of all people.

The sheer irony of it... the fact that you, someone who prides yourself on peace, order, and avoiding conflict at all costs, are now paired with Jungkook for something as important as the town fair. It gnaws at you.

You feel your grip on the chopsticks tighten, the wood digging into your palms as you try to concentrate on anything other than the growing sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape the reality that you’ll have to spend an extended period of time with him, and that thought alone is enough to make you want to scream.

From across the table, your friends are watching you with knowing glances, their eyes flickering back and forth between you and the others. They know exactly what’s going on in your mind, and judging by the subtle smirks on their faces, they’re enjoying this more than they probably should.

Taehyung leans forward, a grin spreading across his face as he watches you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Teaming up with Jungkook for the fair? Oh, this is gonna be good.” he teases, the amusement practically oozing from his words. His grin grows wider as he waits for your response, clearly relishing your discomfort.

Seokjin chimes in next, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d have to cooperate with the infamous biker boy. What’s next? You two finally getting along?” His eyebrows rise dramatically as he leans back, laughing.

You slump further into your chair, your fingers still gripping the chopsticks so tightly that you feel like you might snap them in half. A tired sigh escapes your lips. “I highly doubt it.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration clear in your tone.

“It’s bad enough I’m stuck with him for the fair, but do I have to hear this from you guys too?” You look up at your friends, meeting their teasing eyes with a halfhearted glare, but it’s impossible to stay mad at them for long. They’re enjoying this too much, and you can’t help but feel like the punchline of some inside joke.

“Come on, Y/N...” Namjoon says, his voice soft and rational, like he’s trying to calm you down. “You two have history, right? Maybe this is a good chance to... I don’t know, put the past behind you??” he suggests.

You shake your head almost immediately, a quiet laugh escaping you. “It’s not that simple.” you reply quickly, the words tumbling out without thinking.

“We don’t get along, Joon. This isn’t some... rom-com where we magically start clicking after a few awkward encounters. This is real life. And in real life, I can’t just forget about everything that’s happened between us.” you pause, taking a deep breath.

“Sure, sure,” Juwon adds with a teasing smile, her tone a little too playful. “Just don’t kill him before the fair is over, okay?” She laughs, but there’s an edge of genuine curiosity in her voice. She's not sure whether you’re joking or not.

You roll your eyes, half-annoyed and half-amused. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” you reply dryly, your voice thick with sarcasm. But even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your thoughts slipping into darker territory.

The teasing continues as your friends rally around you, throwing playful jabs and remarks that only seem to make things worse. It’s hard to stay angry at them when they genuinely believe there’s some kind of positive outcome buried somewhere in this mess.

They see the potential for you and Jungkook to patch things up, and while part of you knows they mean well, another part of you can’t shake the nagging feeling that this situation is just a train wreck waiting to happen.

You might not be as optimistic as they are, but they’re all so convinced something good could come out of this, and it makes your frustration feel even more intense.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels just as conflicted, though he’d never admit it. The whole town fair situation is just another annoying obstacle in his otherwise meticulously curated routine.

He’s not keen on the idea of working with you, at all. In fact, the very thought gnaws at him, like a thorn embedded deep inside, constantly prodding at his sense of control.

He’s already juggling a whirlwind of emotions—feelings he doesn’t fully understand, confusions he’s too afraid to face. And if that wasn’t difficult enough already, now he has to stick by you and actually work with you. All those stolen glances, those subtle moments of help, the cold silences... it all amounts to this, and he has no idea how to deal with it.

Even though both of you haven’t fought in a while, the tension still hangs thick in the air when you're in the same vicinity. It’s so glaringly obvious, like a dark cloud that refuses to dissipate.

The truth is, Jungkook has grown to admire you from a distance, but that only makes the situation more complicated. His feelings for you are a constant ache in his chest, something he can’t quite untangle. And now, here he is, stuck with you in a situation that feels like the last thing he wants.

But no matter how much he wishes it weren’t true, when Mr. Kwon’s words echo in his mind, he knows there’s no escaping it. The town fair is something both of you will have to navigate together, whether you guys like it or not.

Still, that doesn’t mean his friends are going to let him off the hook so easily.

“Seems like you have no choice but to get along with Y/N, huh?” Yoongi’s voice is low, almost teasing, but Jungkook can hear the hidden challenge beneath the surface. It’s a comment that cuts deeper than he wants to admit.

Jungkook scowls, his fingers tightening around the soda can he’d just grabbed, the metal crinkling under his grip. “Shut up, hyung.” he mutters through clenched teeth, the words more defensive than he intended. "I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but we’re just going to work together, and that's it." he states, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral. The words taste like ash in his mouth.

“Yeah, sure.” Hoseok adds, leaning in with that familiar, mischievous grin of his. “Just working. The way you look at her says otherwise, though.” His tone is light, but it’s clear he’s enjoying Jungkook’s discomfort a little too much.

“Shut up.” Jungkook snaps, his irritation flaring. He can’t stand their constant teasing, the way they poke at something he’s not ready to face. It’s as though they can see right through him, and it makes him want to retreat even further into himself. And since, he’s been avoiding you... avoiding everything about you like it’s some kind of plague, having to confront it head-on seems impossible.

Jimin, however, is the one who really gets under his skin. “I’ve noticed all those lingering looks you give her. I get it... you’re still holding on to something. But come on, man. It’s been ages. Just face it and talk to her.”

“That’s none of your business.” Jungkook growls, his voice low and thick with frustration. His temper is a simmering volcano, and it doesn’t take much for it to erupt. He hates that they can see through him so easily, as if every thought, every feeling, is written on his face.

And worst of all, he doesn’t want to think about you. Not now, not ever. But there you are, constantly in the back of his mind, disrupting his every thought.

“Maybe this is your chance to… fix things.” Yoongi muses, his voice taking on an almost knowing tone, like he understands something Jungkook isn’t ready to admit to himself.

Jungkook remains silent, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. His jaw is set in a firm line, but inside, he feels a stirring unease. Fix things? With you? No, that’s not what he wants. Not at all.

But something about the space you’ve left in his life lately, the absence of your presence,,, it’s bothering him more than it should. It feels... wrong. And he can’t figure out why.

The emptiness in his chest is growing, and it’s eating away at him. He tries to ignore it, to shove it back down where it belongs, but the truth keeps creeping up on him and he’s not ready to face this. Not yet.

When the meetings finally start, you and Jungkook sit across from each other, a few feet apart, neither of you daring to breach the silence in the community center. The air between the two of you feels charged, thick with tension, like an invisible wall keeping you at arm's length.

Each glance, each shift of position, carries an unspoken weight, and even the faint sound of your breathing feels too loud. Every word spoken feels like an effort, a conscious choice to avoid snapping, but it’s almost impossible not to.

The first task at hand is the layout. You, the florist, are in charge of the decoration, but you know full well that it’s a collaborative effort, especially with Jungkook needing to ensure the space is functional. You’ve done this before, worked under pressure, but with him? It feels different. The stakes are higher, the frustration more palpable.

“So..." you start, forcing your voice to remain steady and calm, even as the anticipation lingers in your chest. “We need to figure out where the booths will be placed. The flower arrangements need to complement the flow of traffic, and we can’t block the stage view.” You turn to him, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before quickly averting your eyes, as though the intensity of the connection might shatter the thin facade you’ve managed to maintain.

Jungkook, however, seems unfazed. His eyes flicker briefly towards you, but it’s clear his attention is elsewhere. “Fine.” he mutters flatly, his voice devoid of any real emotion. He scrolls through his phone as if he’s in a different world entirely. “Tell me where to put the tents.” he says.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his nonchalant response, but you force yourself to stay composed. “It’s not that simple.” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. “You have to work with the dimensions. The booths need to be spaced properly to avoid crowding. Otherwise, the flow will be a mess.” you explain.

He hums in acknowledgment, but his focus never leaves the screen of his phone, his posture relaxed, almost too casual. He gives you nothing to go on, no acknowledgment that he’s actually listening, and yet, he doesn’t argue.

He’s making an effort, or so it seems, but the effort feels as half-hearted as his tone. You lay out the details of the booth placement, watching as his eyes dart back to his phone, the quick flicks of his thumb on the screen like a rhythm you’ve grown all too familiar with. It’s frustrating, to say the least.

Still, he doesn’t outright ignore you. That’s something, right? A small victory, perhaps, but not enough to quell the simmering unease that’s growing within you. He’s pretending not to care, pretending like this is just another mundane task in his life. And maybe, in his mind, it is. But in yours? It’s so much more than that.

The following days unfold in a similar pattern. The meetings don't happen every single day. Maybe just two to three times a week. Whenever you sit down to discuss, you both speak in clipped tones, each of you trying to push your own agenda without crossing the invisible line into conflict.

It’s a game of subtle manipulations, of measuring your words carefully so as not to give anything away. Jungkook does his best to remain distant, as if he’s above it all... his expressions impassive, his body language indifferent. It’s the perfect mask, and he wears it well, making it nearly impossible to gauge what he’s really thinking.

And yet, despite the stone-cold exterior, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more beneath the surface. You catch the fleeting glances he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking, the slight tension in his shoulders when you speak, and the subtle shift in his tone when he responds.

He’s trying to remain uninterested, trying to pretend he doesn’t care. But the little cracks in his armor? They don't fully hide from you.

However, neither of you is willing to make the first move. The walls you’ve both built around yourselves remain as sturdy as ever. The resentment, though unspoken, hangs in the air, a silent presence that neither of you dares to address. The past still looms large between you, an unspoken history that neither of you is ready to confront.

And so, you continue to go through the motions, working side by side but never truly together. The tension remains thick, like a fog you can’t see through, and the distance between you only seems to grow with each passing day.

For Jungkook, the real battle wasn’t the fair planning... it was you.

Every time your voice echoed in his ears, or your eyes briefly met his, it felt like a thousand invisible threads tangled around his chest, pulling him in every direction at once.

He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t. He tried so hard to stay indifferent, to bury it all beneath layers of cold indifference, but no matter how hard he fought, you had a way of slipping past his defenses.

The harder he tried to focus on the task at hand like the booths, the layout, the logistics, the more you seemed to invade his thoughts. It was maddening, the way you lingered in his mind even when he tried to distract himself.

The sound of your voice, the soft rhythm in your words, the way your eyes sparkled when you were engaged in something you loved... everything about you pulled at him, and he hated it.

He hated how easily he found himself drawn to you, despite everything. Despite the history between you, despite the distance he worked so hard to maintain. He had a job to do. He wasn’t here for this. He wasn’t here for you.

But it didn’t stop him from noticing.

He would notice the way your hair fell in soft waves, catching the light just enough to make it look like something from a dream.

He would notice the curve of your smile as you spoke to your friends sometimes, right before looking at him as he waits for you to head towards the community center together, and the way your smile instantly drops when you spot him makes his chest tighten in ways he didn’t know how to explain.

He would notice how your fingers gently caressed the petals of the flowers you arranged, each movement graceful and deliberate, like everything you touched turned into something beautiful.

It was all so distracting. And in that distraction, Jungkook found himself irritated by his own reaction. He hated how you made his heart race with the simplest of gestures, how his breath hitched when your gaze lingered on him a fraction longer than necessary.

He hated how much you affected him, how your presence seemed to make everything else fade away, as if the world revolved around you and him, suspended in the space between words.

He tried to shut it out. He tried so hard to ignore the flutter in his chest, to keep his focus sharp and steady, but each time you spoke, each time you glanced his way, it became harder. He tried to play it cool, tried to act like none of it mattered, but the truth was... it did matter. It mattered more than he wanted it to.

He despised how beautiful you were, how effortlessly you seemed to captivate every room you entered, how every little thing you did seemed to leave an imprint on his soul. You were the storm he couldn’t weather, the fire he couldn’t outrun, and he hated that he couldn’t escape it.

Every glance, every moment of interaction, felt like a slow burn, a tension he couldn’t release no matter how hard he tried. And the worst part? He couldn’t even find it in himself to want to escape it anymore.

Maybe, deep down, he didn’t want to. Maybe he was tired of pretending that it didn’t matter, tired of trying to push down the feelings that seemed to bubble up from the depths of his chest, no matter how hard he fought them.

There were nights when he would lay awake, the weight of the day pressing down on him, and he could still hear your voice echoing in his mind, still see the way your eyes flickered with a hint of something... something he couldn’t quite place. Something that made him think maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one feeling this tension.

But he never asked. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how to start.

So instead, he buried it, deep down where it could fester. He buried the way his heart seemed to beat a little faster when you walked into the room, and the way his thoughts would drift to you even when he tried to focus on something else.

He buried the guilt of knowing he was avoiding it, of knowing that he was pushing away something that, in some twisted way, he was beginning to want more than anything else.

Because, no matter how much he tried to pretend he didn’t care, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was all just a fleeting distraction, he was lying to himself.

He cared. More than he should. And it terrified him.

The days continue to blur into one another, each meeting a subtle repetition of the last. But as time passes, you both start to find a rhythm. The awkward silences between you become less frequent, and though the tension never fully dissipates, it becomes something more manageable.

Now, with only one month left for the town fair, your tasks seemed to intertwine more seamlessly, and while Jungkook still maintains that nonchalant, almost aloof demeanor, there’s a strange sense of understanding that develops between you two. It’s not friendly, but it’s cooperative, a balance struck somewhere between resentment and reluctant teamwork.

You start to notice the little changes. The way Jungkook no longer scrolls through his phone during every conversation, or how he no longer avoids your gaze completely. He still doesn’t speak much, but when he does, his tone is less dismissive, more practical, like he’s acknowledging that you’re both in this together, for better or for worse.

You can’t quite tell if he’s faking it or if something is actually shifting beneath the surface, but it doesn’t matter. You focus on the work, pushing through the awkwardness because at least, for now, the process is getting done.

As the days progress, there’s a certain ease in the way you both begin to collaborate. You don’t always agree, and you still bicker over details... where exactly the tents should be placed, what color scheme will work best with the space, and how to arrange the flower displays.

But the exchanges are less sharp, less pointed. It’s as if the constant friction between you has smoothed out into something more tolerable.

You start to enjoy the process in small ways, even though Jungkook remains stoic through it all. The occasional glance exchanged across the table, the rare, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment when you make a valid point... those moments feel like victories.

And just when you start to think that maybe this partnership, while not ideal, could work out after all... just when the days seem to stretch into a predictable rhythm and the weight of the past starts to seem less suffocating, you're pulled out of your trance as you glance up at Jungkook who barges into the community center, his shoulders harshly pushing the door open.

Today, you and Jungkook were supposed to sit with Mr. Kwon and a few other committee members to discuss the progress of your planning and work. They're all seated around the table as they watch Jungkook walk inside.

There’s something off about him today. His usual confident stride is replaced by a more cautious pace, and the first thing you notice is the bruise on his cheek... a faint purple mark that looks like it’s only just begun to heal.

Your gaze travels down, noticing the bandages wrapped around his knuckles. For a split second, your stomach churns. You want to ask, to understand, but before you can even take a breath, he’s sitting down without a word, his usual aloofness firmly in place.

You saw him two days ago, and he was completely fine so you look at him, wondering what exactly happened between the interval.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, though you can feel the tension in the air between you. It’s as if the bruise on his face, the bandages on his hands, are somehow adding to the already thick layer of silence between the two of you. His presence fills the room, but in a way that feels more distant than ever.

You’re suddenly acutely aware of the tightness in your chest, the way your heart begins to race, but you force yourself to push those thoughts aside. It’s none of your business, you remind yourself. He’s clearly not in the mood to talk, and you have no right to pry into his life. Your ego keeps you silent, your lips pressed together as you try to focus on the meeting at hand.

The conversation begins, and for a moment, the work distracts you from the storm of emotions swirling inside. But the normal rhythm of the meeting is shattered when a disagreement arises.

It starts with something small... where to position the flowers around the booths, which side will get the best sunlight. The back-and-forth is nothing new, but today, it feels different. Jungkook’s voice is sharper than usual, his irritation more obvious.

“No, it’s wrong.” he snaps, his tone clipped and harsh as he shoots down your suggestion. “I don’t care what you think, it’s just not going to work.” he spits out.

You feel your frustration rising, the familiar tension between you flaring up once again. But this time, it’s worse. Usually it's just the two of you, but today you have spectators. His words hit a nerve, and before you can stop yourself, you shoot back, your voice laced with annoyance. “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

Jungkook doesn’t back down. His eyes flash with a sudden intensity, his jaw clenching as he leans forward, almost daring you to push him further. “If you stopped pretending to know what you’re doing and actually listened to someone who does, maybe you wouldn’t be so completely useless.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, everything goes silent in the room. You feel your blood run cold as the sting of his words sinks in. There’s a moment of disbelief, followed by a sharp surge of anger.

You didn’t expect him to snap like that, especially not in front of everyone. But the truth is, you don’t care about the others in the room right now. All you care about is the unbearable pain in your chest that his words have left behind.

Without thinking, you stand up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor, the noise cutting through the tense silence. You don’t even spare him a glance as you turn to leave, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

Every step feels like it’s pulling you further away from the meeting, from him, and from the tight knot of emotions you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The door slams behind you with a resounding finality.

Mr. Kwon and the others in the room are left in stunned silence, but Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t say a word. He just sits there, staring at the empty space where you had been, the tension now painfully thick enough to cut with a knife.

He doesn’t know what’s worse... the physical pain in his body from the fight with the rival gang he just had before coming here, or the way his words just pushed you further away. But he’s not ready to admit that. Not to anyone. Not even to himself.

"Well..." Mr. Kwon starts, carefully eyeing Jungkook as he glances at the other members. " A little bit of a disagreement, I suppose." he breathes out.

"Let's talk about this calmly in the next meeting." he finally says, after a few seconds as the others silently agree with him. He stands up, softly patting Jungkook on the shoulder, before he exits the community center with the others.

It’s clear that something has shifted. And whatever fragile understanding you had begun to build between the two of you, now seems like a distant memory, lost in the wake of that one, harsh moment. Jungkook doesn’t know how to fix it, but somehow, he knows he’ll have to face it. Eventually.

The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting its silvery glow across the empty streets below. Jungkook walks towards his shop, hands buried deep in his pockets, but there’s no warmth in the gesture. His body moves, but his mind churns, restless, unwilling to give him the peace he so desperately craves.

The meeting replays in his mind over and over, each iteration like a fresh stab to his chest. He can’t forget the sharpness of his words, the way they cut into you, when he knew better than anyone that you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

A long, heavy sigh escapes him, but it offers no relief. The tension in his shoulders feels like an unshakeable weight, a burden he can’t cast aside. It wasn’t your fault, none of it.

You had no part in the chaos of his morning... a rush of irate customers, a critical delivery gone wrong, and an absurd brawl with a rival biker gang over something that, in hindsight, seemed like pure stupidity.

Yet, somehow, you ended up on the receiving end of all his frustration, a target for everything he’d been bottling up. Guilt gnaws at him as he walks, the sharp taste of regret lingering on his tongue.

Passing your shop, a soft, golden light spills from the glass door. His steps falter, a flicker of curiosity cutting through the wall his pride has built. It's late, and yet you're still here. He pauses for a moment, unsure, torn between his ego and the pull of something deeper. And then, against all reason, he steps closer, pressing his face to the cool glass, eyes narrowing to catch a glimpse.

The sight of you makes something tighten in his chest. Your back is facing him, but your shoulders tremble, faintly at first, but enough to set his pulse racing. His breath catches, and then the realization hits him like a punch. You’re crying.

His heart slams against his ribs, the sight of your silent sorrow unraveling him in ways he can't fully understand. His legs go weak, and the weight of his regret threatens to crush him. He's the cause of your tears, the reason for this moment of pain.

He stands frozen, torn between guilt and fear... fear that his presence will only make things worse. But the guilt surges, a relentless tide that drowns everything else.

His knees threaten to give away under the pressure of his own actions, and for a fleeting moment, he considers turning away, disappearing into the night. But the ache in his chest keeps him rooted to the spot.

Finally, he exhales, slow and deliberate, and pushes the door open, the soft chime of the bell echoing in the stillness. For a heartbeat, he wonders if you’ll hear it, if you’ll acknowledge his presence.

He steps inside, quiet, careful, as though every movement might break something more fragile than glass. The door closes gently behind him, and he moves closer, inching towards you, but the distance between you both feels like an entire universe.

The words he wants to say get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know if any of them will ever be enough. “Y/N…” His voice cracks, quieter than he intended, raw with the weight of unspoken regret.

You don’t turn around. You don’t flinch. The silence stretches between you like an impassable chasm, and the space feels impossibly wide. His chest tightens further as he watches your back, every muscle in his body aching with the need to fix this, to make it right. But he doesn’t know how.

“Y/N, I…” He swallows, fumbling for words, but none come. He knows an apology won’t undo the damage, but it’s the only thing he has left to offer. “I’m sorry. I...I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I shouldn’t have—”

His words fall short as he sees your shoulders tremble harder, your body shaking with the weight of everything you’ve been holding in. You turn slightly, enough for him to catch the tear tracks on your face, and the sight of them, the way your pain is laid bare before him, pierces him in ways he can’t explain.

“I didn’t mean to … to snap at you like that…” His voice falters, breaking under the strain. He knows it’s too late for his apologies to fix anything. You’ve already heard too much of it, seen too much of his anger.

You wipe your eyes hastily, trying to erase the evidence of your tears, but when you face him fully, there’s nothing but raw pain in your gaze. “No, Jungkook,” you cut him off, your voice trembling with anger but steady, unwavering. “You DON’T get to do this.”

He instinctively steps forward, his hand reaching out, but you step back, sharp and defensive.

“You don’t get to come in here now, after everything, and act like you can fix this with a half-hearted apology!” Your voice rises, shaking with emotion, and the dam finally breaks. “I don’t NEED your apology. I don’t WANT your apology!”

The words hit him like a physical blow, but he doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t try to stop you. He just stands there, feeling the weight of every word, every accusation, land deep in his chest.

“You made me feel small, Jungkook,” you continue, your voice cracking as tears brim in your eyes again. “Ever since you moved next door, that’s ALL you’ve been doing. It’s like you go out of your way to make my life miserable. Everything you say, everything you do, it makes me feel like I’m constantly losing control over the one thing I’ve built with my own hands. Like me and my shop have always been a joke to you.” You pause, breath hitching as you try to steady yourself.

Jungkook knows exactly where this is coming from. He’s the cause of every inch of this. He feels it in his gut, the crushing weight of his mistakes, and he knows he has no right to defend himself. All he can do is stand there and listen.

“You don’t care. You treat me like crap... like I’m just some part of your day that you can lash out at whenever it suits you.” you spit, your voice trembling with fury. “In your world, it’s always about you. Your thoughts, your problems, your emotions... it’s like nothing else... like no else... exists. You never stop to think about how your words affect anyone else. You never stop to think about how your words affect me.”

Your chest heaves with each word, your voice raw with hurt. And as the weight of your anger presses down on him, Jungkook feels a heavy suffocating knot coil in his stomach. This is all his fault.

“You think I don’t have enough to deal with already?” you continue, voice breaking as your tears spill again. “That I need to be the punching bag for your anger? You don’t get to treat me like that, Jungkook. You have no right to make me feel like I’m the problem when you’re the one who’s always pushing people away.”

The words echo in the empty space between you, a finality that’s impossible to ignore. Jungkook stands there, silent, broken. Each word feels like a strike, each accusation hitting him harder than the last. “Every time I think we’re okay, every time I think we can coexist in peace, you give me a million reasons to prove me wrong. You make me feel so fucking stupid for even thinking we could be friends.”

You run your hands through your hair, tears falling like rain as you try to catch your breath, but it’s hard. The storm inside you isn’t over.

A few moments pass in silence, but it’s deafening, suffocating. You close your eyes, letting out a long, strained sigh. “I’ve had enough.” you whisper, voice raw and exhausted. “I can’t do this anymore... Not with you. Just... just get out, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t move. He can’t. He stands there, paralyzed by the weight of his own guilt. No words come, because he knows that nothing he could say will make things better.

You turn away, your shoulders shaking with the weight of everything you’ve just said, and as you walk further away from him, Jungkook knows he’s lost more than just your trust tonight. He reluctantly steps back, still watching you as he moves towards the door. He knows it won't change anything but before he leaves, he still says it. "I'm sorry."

<- part 4 // part 6 (coming soon) ->

series masterlist

taglist: @kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 (let me know if u wanted to be added !!)

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction

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deathanniversary · 2 days ago

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in all honesty, higuruma’s job was hard. fighting for the innocent, the wrongly accused and those people had done nothing wrong yet were locked away from no reason, was hard. well, at the end of the day — that’s his job and there’s not much he can do about it so he’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it. but hey, justice for all those people, at least that helps a little.

and obviously as his wife, you were patient with him, always ran him hot baths after a shit ton of stressful ass work was on his plate, cook him lavish and delicious dinners. anythin’ to make him de-stress and feel at peace after work — that’s the best type of dopamine one could ask for, honestly ( your tight cunt around his stiff hard cock is equivalent to that as well ). and of course he appreciated you for that. he always does ! each granted time. what more could he ask for in a wife? and plus, it was super super worth it coming home to your praise about his nose — not gonna lie. he’d been a little insecure about it until he met you, though.

but lately at work, he’s kindaa been slacking… just a tiny bit. always thinking about you ( lustfully ) at work, the pure thought of you pops up randomly in his head every single second of the day — no matter what the occasion or situation may be. you’re on his mind 25 / 8 .

he might be a hot n tired lawyer, but fuck you make him act up crazy. how the hell can he go up to the stand with a boner ? a painful boner. i mean, yeah, no one can see it, but still ! that’s directly embarrassing… like… what the hell is the judge gonna think ? “is mr.hiromi hard over a divorce case..?” weird shit.

and as soon as he finished the trial ( of course he did win ), he left and went straight home to you. it kinda hit him like a slap in the face: your guy’s sex life wasnt sexing… you know ? he’s been busy with a shit ton of work, so it makes sense. but he’s so desperate for you right now, the tension is almost palpable .

as soon as he enters the house, shoes kicked off, briefcase set down, stormed upstairs immediately. “you-“ he’s taken aback by your finger booping his nose and immediate praise of his hard work nd nose, too. “yes.. thank you,” he hugs you, his boner rubbing against your clothed cunt. He feels so lovesick int his moment, kinda dizzy ‘nd drunk without the booze or whatever.. that high sensation of euphoria and dopamine rushing through his body like a crack fein. why do you make him feel like this? what kinda effect, spell — fucking curse do you put on him to make him feel this way? but in other words, he’s gonna make you deal with the consequences anyways because of that. >:(

“‘m gonna go reall slow, princess.” higuruma’s hands stayed put onto your hips, completely ignoring the fact that you were a blabbering nd drooling flushed-face mess in his hands. his tongue thrusted in and out of your soaking cunt excruciatingly slow and teasing. “‘m not gonna die, don’t be shy,” his nose accidentally nuzzles into your pussy, and the most vocal moan comes out of your mouth. oops.

your hands were scratching at his chest while you choked the man with your pussy. it fucking hit him right then ‘n there; he wanted to fucking live in your pussy. breathe her, eat her— all that shit. pussy so good, it could fucking kill someone. “yeahh, needy f’me, aint’cha?” he moaned into your pretty pink folds, eyes damn near rolling into the back of his skull. “ssshitt, b-baby…” he spits into your cum ‘n saliva filled cunt and nuzzles his nose into the warmth of your womb. you just really love his nose that much, huh?

#⊹₊ ˚‧ deathanniversaryworks #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #higuruma x reader #higuruma fanart #⊹₊ ˚‧writing #⊹₊ ˚higurumas nose is soo #smut #jjk #jjk x you #⊹₊ ˚what did doja say bout them big noses ? they good to sit on ! !

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afreakingdork · 1 day ago

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Writing Request - Reader x Josh (Until Dawn) Body Shots🫗

Y'all thought I only did rottmnt? Nah, and @mermmarie tapped me for some reader x Josh Washington body shot goodness! We're in the last day, people! I might not get too man more of these done but encourage your friends to vote!

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will do any short story writing request like the one below or draw you any doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ��ᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ��ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

We got a little mature content down below, but not explicit! Enjoy~

The party was in full swing. The house was bursting at the seams with people and every step had to be taken by the side. You squirmed past others, not bothering with apologies and only trying to find a sliver of enjoyment in a sea of decadence. The Washington's had always been known for their ragers, but hearing tale and seeing them in person was something else.

You needed a drink.

You were trying your best to get one, but you kept getting boxed out. Between the multi-room mansion and the throngs of people, you were just about done with getting shoved. A crack opened up between two people making out and you made a dash for it. They stumbled for inebriation and made waves which resulted in a parted sea. It was a clean trip to an embarrassingly large kitchen and a drink selection that would make a bar jealous.

You held your cup close and the liquid went down sweet with the mixture with a satisfying burn on the back end. It was perfect in knowing exactly how much intake you were getting and you mingled as your body loosened. A song you liked came on and you swayed with its motion. The thump settled into your brain and its bass took your body.

It helped you slip into a satisfied trance and forget that your friends had dipped last minute. In any other scenario you might not have gone alone, but you had spent all that time getting ready. Fuck it, you thought, you looked too good to waste it on another night at home so you'd gone out.

You would be careful enough, you long decided. Your drink was never out of sight and if it did, they had more than enough liquor for you to pour another. You had nothing on you to pinch beside your phone and that was safely tucked away in a place that you would know in an instant if anyone was copping a feel.

Such a thing was happening now as someone ground against your ass in rhythm and you lolled your head back in time to see who it was. A mediocre man was a little too bold behind you, but you supposed that was to be expected. It was always those guys who had just enough to their facial structure that sloppily thought they could reach above their standards.

This was the main fare of the party, the average masses. You danced with him before you felt his hand ghost over your arm. It felt a little more leading and you thought he might grab your and to finally face you, but instead he shot away. The warning signs went off in your mind and you clearly saw your cup blocking the way. With a dreary glance you knew that meant it was time to dump it and left whoever behind to go refresh your beverage.

Someone screamed out something about a chance of hail and there was a shattering. You looked up where you were pouring a bottle and could sort of see out of a kitchen window through overly floral curtains. Outside some boys had proudly torn their shirts off and were just as busy peacocking as they slammed back shots. It was entertaining enough and you sipped as you headed out there.

You watched on with some amusement as a violent game had been concocted. You never did figure out whatever rules they had set, but the clear goal was drinking and then hucking the small glass receptacles as hard as possible at some gaudy sculpture. It was a movie set piece, you vaguely knew, from the Washington's dad, that had taken root in the garden with a few other ugly pieces.

"Where's Josh!? He's got the arm! He could hit peak, I know it!"

"Yeah, man!"

"Where's our Party Poobah?!"

"What the fuck!?"

There was good natured ribbing and you concealed your mouth as you turned away from the games.

Josh.

It wasn't like you expected to see the man of the hour. He was legendary for hosting these parties, but he was just that. He was there for the purpose of getting lost in himself. The action was where he was and everything around that was a merry hurricane. He was the epicenter and since he attracted only level five events, he was an anomaly.

You wouldn't just be lucky to see him, it would be some kind of miracle.

It was about on par as getting into a VIP section. Skinny girls with pale skin were guaranteed access and that alone bored you. Men's picks for stereotypical hot chicks as about on par with the audacity of the large swathe of average guys. It was all an exhausting back and forth game of mediocrity that you would have no part of.

"Move aside! We're on a mission!"

That was Josh.

With your arm crossed to more comfortably hold your cup, your head rose high.

Speak of the devil and he doth appear, you amused yourself as you tried to place which direction he was. The music just swallowed up noise enough that it happened to throw voices. It filled in space you might have hoped to delineate, but said man had the power to conjure storms.

"This is the party police!" Josh came in with sharp eyes and a face splitting grin. "Prepare to be strip searched!!"

He was flanked by lackeys that weren't Chris, but you doubted the other man was far behind. The others weren't so easy to manipulate into Josh's little schemes and you watched as he, the boss among, them signaled them to fan out in a military manner.

They took on the role of dogs, something you had a feeling Josh had told them to do beforehand, and you watched them howl. They then fanned out, sniffing up skirts and startling men with a sharp gab to their asses. All manner of reaction was had, but when a man on all fours snuffed his way up to you, you looked down at him with enough disdain that he moved on with his tale between his legs.

"Idiots." You heard Josh say in a voice that almost seemed like he hadn't meant it.

You looked up and found him staring squarely at you.

Your gaze grew dull as he must have meant that insult for you.

There was a flash of attention in his eye before he surged forward.

"They say you can't teach old dogs, but I think that's true of all animals!"

You almost looked behind you because if he was talking to you, you weren't sure what he meant.

"Humans too." He came squarely up to you. "Don't mind them, beautiful. I've been running around looking for you all night."

"Me?" You asked him with a tip of your cup.

"Oh yeah!" He grinned with something that had a malevolently edge.

Confused signals failed to spark in your mind as he circled you.

"I mean..." He was behind you. "... look..." He came around your side with a slink. "... you..."

It oozed palpable desire and your skin lit even though he hadn't touched you.

"Gorgeous. Supple. I need you. I've been looking for candidates."

Your guard went up. "Candidates?"

"Yep." He swept up from your body and leveled with your eyes. "I'm scouting. Needed a ringer. Be mine?"

There was a boyish tilt to his last question that straddled the line between his devious nature and honest begging.

Your stomach bubbled and you shifted your hips to quell it.

Josh watched on like he picked up every micromovement. "I wouldn't just say this. I've searched the whole party. You're the one."

The whole party.

There were hundreds of girls here.

You?

It was flattering, but you still weren't sure what you were signing up for.

"And what exactly is this for...?" You lowered your cup.

Josh positively beamed. "You're the perfect glass."

Your mouth rounded out in confusion and you were about to ask when he caught your wrist.

Your hand shot up like a flag. "I've got mine!!! Let's do this!!"

"Finally!"

"Let's go!!"

"Hell yeah!!"

"Shots! Shots!"

Before you could do anything else, you were being ushered through the house. Not quite carried, your feet only hit the ground once every few steps as the mob steered you. The only constant was Josh's cuff around your wrist and besides that was the roving pack of men that puffed like slobbering sled dogs.

You were soon in a room with four massage tables set up and for the first time, you got enough ground to snap back on your tether.

"What the fuck!?"

"No, baby shh...!" Josh came around you with cautious hands. "Just look. Look!"

He moved so you could peer around him and watched as three men broke from the pack. They escorted girls of their choosing in different manners. One took one gentlemanly by the hand while another hoisted a squealing girl up in his arms. All their destinations were the tables though and they each laid down with smiles plastered to their faces. They men tended to them with hungry eyes and you watched as each of them rolled their shirts up to expose their stomachs.

"We're having a little competition." Josh said as he also surveyed the scene. "Drunkest wins."

"No, thanks." You responded instantly.

"Not you." He gave you only his profile. "Unless you wanna...?"

Your cup had disappeared in transit and you cocked a hip at him.

"Alright, alright!" He held his hands up defeated and addressed you. "I'll explain."

You cocked a brow.

"Body shots."

Both words popped off his lips and pounded in your ears.

"You see them..." He came around you like sharing a secret and used the arm over your shoulders to point at the others. "They're the idiots. They don't care about the competition. They don't even care about getting drink. They picked all these twigs and for what? You can't hold liquor in that! I'm here to party and I'm here to drink. Make sense?"

You meant to think with reason, but you saw one thing.

Josh's tongue.

Ever since he'd uttered the phrase, you had been watching it.

It rolled around his mouth.

It caressed every letter.

It tongued every nook.

Every cranny.

It was going to run over you.

The superseded reason and you held out for one last complaint. "Typical. You just want me for my body."

He recited your name so clearly that it almost seemed like he tapped some nefarious database.

You gaped at him.

"Partly true. That body is banging." His eyes dip purposefully before re-locking onto yours as he continues. "But believe me, I made sure you were invited. I'm sorry your friends couldn't make it."

It felt like there were a hundred things wrong with that statement, but the way he looked at you, like you were the only being in the world for him, shot straight to your core.

You belly button.

Where he was going to jam his tongue.

"Fine." You managed to make it seem just blasé enough.

"Excellent." He was all teeth and for a moment you feared you'd be devoured.

Instead he took your hand in a firm grip and lead you to the table. In his own fashion and unlike the others, he didn't try to force you. He stood beside and bowed for you to take the table like this was your competition to win. It made you feel all the more important as you hopped up.

He pressed along side you and his eyes never left yours as you wriggled to get comfortable on the firm table. You got as settled as you could before you went for your shirt. There was chatter all around and you thought Josh might ogle you, but he kept his gaze nothing but reassuring. He quirked a brow when you were settled and ready before he brought his head up to announce the rules.

There was a designated pourer who would come around so no one could cheat drinks. They alcohol would flow as necessary until someone tapped out or if the liquid ran out of bounds. That meant not getting slurped up before it leaked off someone's body and with that Chris walked through with a bottle held high in demonstration.

Cheers and bets were placed behind you, but Josh gave you his eyes again. "Just you and me, gorgeous."

You lowered your lashes at the all too obvious flirt and it only made him smile wider.

The competition commenced.

You couldn't really see the other tables, but you heard a loud sucking along with a girl giggling out of her mind. The next person went and the guy complained for both his girl to suck it in which earned him ire. He demanded Chris pour more, but the guy only approached you with his bottle tipped.

"Ready?"

"Always, Cochise."

Chris poured the shot into your belly button.

It pooled up and with a healthy glug and you tried not to shiver at how the room temperature drink chilled straight through your body. A little streaked through the folds in your stomach and Josh shot forward with his tongue extended. It scraped wet and warm over your skin before teasing around your center. He flicked his gaze up, making hard eye contact before his tongue retracted and his lips puckered. With the expertise of someone who had clearly done one too many hands free shots, he drank you dry.

Your stomach flipped, but he wasn't done. He circled his tongue as a moat around your belly button and licked inward for the sake of it. it spoke of what else he could do with the appendage and you arched a little off the table. He kissed down into your soft belly to ease you and you vaguely heard Chris come around again.

"That's one out!"

You blinked as you hadn't heard any dissent.

To your immediate right, the girl and guy there were fighting about how she hadn't told him she had an outie.

More booze was poured into you in your distraction and you squeaked at the chance it would be lost. Josh swept wide, drinking in your skin and catching both sides of leakage in an expert arch. Your lips crinkled a squiggled line and he lifted up with shining lips. "Doing alright there?"

"Fine. Totally fine." You hiccuped.

"Very fine." He lobbed back.

Your head flew back to the table and you heard him chuckle in a way that sounded like it was all around you.

"We're down to two!"

You didn't bother looking.

Josh had found your hand beside the table and squeezed it as he readied himself.

It was just a little mortifying, as if you needed to be soothed, but he refused to let go as Chris appeared once again.

"Bottom's up!" The glasses-clad man chuckled.

"To the top, my good man!" Josh cheered.

"You sure? The other's spilled that way" Chris glanced at his best friend.

"Oh, she can handle it." Josh looked at you.

You believed him.

Flat out, without question.

You were stupid and you liked it.

You readied your stomach in your best flex and Chris poured.

You felt yourself fill and the bare arch you were doing pushed your breasts further into the sides of your cups. The weight held heavy and parted so you had the best view for the moment your stomach overflowed and Josh dove in.

With unsightly slurps, his tongue darted fast and he sucked with all his might. He caught your skin up into his mouth in puckered moments that didn't linger because there was more booze to drink. It spilled a messy burn around your belly and he was apt to lick the plate clean even while it soaked his face.

A single drop escaped down a fold.

"Josh!" You gasped.

He was at the pinnacle of the cup and looked up at you under his euphoric lids.

The drip tickled your side before it disappeared onto the table.

"That's out!" Someone called.

An upset tore through the crowd.

Josh lazily finished his drink and you felt heat pulsing straight down your body.

When he finally came up, it wasn't to accept silver, he had only gold in his eyes.

The winner was celebrated, but Josh tucked closer into you. "You know... I feel like I've only gotten a taste..."

You held out for a single second before matching his darkened gaze. "Get ready to drink up then."

#me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing request #requests open #rally until the tally #until dawn #Joshua Washington #until dawn josh #josh Washington #x reader #josh x reader #until dawn josh x reader

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hazel2468 · 1 year ago

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Just to clarify, because I don't think some of y'all fucking get it.

If you insert yourself into a conversation. Just to say that you think something is gross. When the conversation is about liking that thing and being had by people who do like that thing.

Then you cannot be mad when they tell you to go fuck yourself.

I see WAY too many people, especially little fancops, yeeting themselves into discussions about stuff just so they can whine about how gross something is, how they don't like it- contributing nothing to substance to the conversation. And then they COMPLAIN about how unfair and rude people are when they are told (rightly) to fuck off and shut up.

If the only reason you are inserting yourself into a discussion, or commenting on a post, is to talk about how much you hate the thing being discussed/ how gross you think people who like that are.

Then you CANNOT BE SURPRISED WHEN YOU ARE TOLD TO TAKE A LONG WALK OFF A SHORT DICK!

#discourse #seriously this isn't hard kids #if you have nothing positive to contribute then don't fucking contribute #you have PLENTY of spaces to bitch and moan about what you don't like #you aren't fucking fooling anyone #we KNOW the reason you guys do this shit is so you can reinforce your view #that all people who like those things you don't like are rude and gross and awful #when what ACTUALLY happens #is people are minding their own damn business #and then you come along and shove your nose in and make bitchy comments #just so you can complain about how you were told to shut up #when you never should have been talking there in the first place

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chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic · 1 month ago

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Proud owner of what might be MLPs stupidest yaoi o7

#HEAR ME OUT!#I only like. Maybe half-seriously ship it. Because I don't think their personalities would mix that well if they ever met #But in my mind this would be really fun #Nopony understands how this happened. They're supportive but if this doesn't work out no one will be surprised #Especially becaus Flim is a charismatic business pony who can wrap ponies round his hoof #And Zephyr has no game #I'm sorry Zephyr Breeze fans I promise I'm not just gonna bully your man. His colour palette is very nice #(Also do you guys know how hard it is to find good isolated pictures of Flim?)#my little pony #mlp fim #shipping #rarepair #(but also on the brink of a crackship rn)#zephyr breeze #mlp flim #zephyr breeze x flim #I haven't come up with a shipname yet. It's always harder with characters with such short names

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assmaster-8000 · 1 year ago

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why don't clothes fit me the way they do on a skinny cis guy (<- isn't a skinny cis guy)

#being trans masc is so frustrating because i forget i got the level 1000 gyatt #go forth and find a beautiful trans woman bodily curves of mine #i have so many cool pants that would give away im kweer if i wore them not because they're from alt fashion subcultures #but because my ass and thighs and hips are too femme apparently?!?!?#when will people stop associating allat with women or something #my cis male friends have the biggest fucking asses for some reason AND THEY KEEP ON TWERKING INFRONT OF ME WHEN IM MINDING MY BUSINESS #no but *im* the female and a girl apparently #i wanna go out in tight fitting clothes until i realise i actually have a female body like whatttt #ain't that crazy #im not saying those bodily attributes are inherently femme or indicators of being a girl or a female cause just. no #im just saying that many people think that way #and it's hard trying to be perceived as masc while trying to dress the way i want to #'why do you care about how others perceive you?' because being perceived as a girl makes me feel bad like what #its different from your personality being perceived differently #im aware my gender is something i define but i can also want others to perceive me as a guy too #i cant change the minds of everybody but in the end i still am a masc identifying person and i want people to easily identify me as one #transphobes and people who blatantly refuse to perceive me as one is something else entirely #and if adhering to the binary gender norms is how i can be validated in my gender then so be it #because gender is a social construct and mine is affirmed and solidified through social interaction #other trans people wont do what i do. others do. that's fine. gnc trans people are fucking sick /pos #but unfortunately i do not have it in me to NOT care about how others perceive my gender #because it matters a lot to me and being perceived as a girl hurts

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bunnyb34r · 9 months ago

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I need life to slow the fuck down bc my skin is starting to hurt real bad from all this picking :/

#marquilla #i need a healthy coping mechanism but nothing hits like self destruction dgdgdghddg #my brain is hard wired from genetics to pick at my skin and hair on both sides 😭 i was doomed from the start #i do try to not do it btw im not like oh well guess theres no options! like no i know but i need a foolproof one #or for life to fucking chill #every four years i become an over plucked chicken for 10 months and think ab pulling my head hair out bc yall are driving me up the wall #i got into a fight in 2016 ab the election and i nearly started punching... like i had to hit the bed instead bc im like god i cant hurt #them but GOD DO I FEEL THE NEED TO TO GET YOU TO GET IT #i think i like plucked DEEP that day just taking my anger and frustration out bc good lord #like how can you be like hmm well im gonna vote for this guy bc fuck poor people. i work retail and so i see people abusing ebt a lot #therefore it makes me mad and i wanna stop it.#like you only notice the 'fraud' and misuse/bad choices people make bc thats negative in your mind so #your brain holds onto it. youre not noticing the poor people who are just minding their business using ebt and feeding their family #ive gotten through to them at least a little ab how fraud is less than 1% and that the fraud is usually selling stamps for cash for diapers #and shit and that it's people sharing cards bc they need to pool their funds to feed their families #that the people you see stealing or buying expensive ass meats on ebt are not the majority and if they wanna waste their limited funds each #month like that then thats a them problem. mind your business.#anyway im fucking like deteriorating sggdgdggd

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trulyiamjustmaleficaring · 2 years ago

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Sebastian Vael is such a profoundly lonely character

#like some of this is just the limitations of the DLC and I do get that but like #accepting the material as presented (tho acknowledging it's told through Varric's very biased POV)#Seb tries SO HARD to connect with the Kirkwall Crew #(with the exception of Anders who he's still shockingly polite to all things considered)#yet his attempts at reaching out for friendship are either outright rejected (Aveline...VARRIC especially)#or at best politely accepted without much depth in return...Like he can be a friendly acquaintance to them but not a truly close friend #(his relationships with Merrill and Fenris for example)#and again it is not for lack of trying on his part! man is using all of the tools he has to connect with these ppl!#and he himself clearly cares about them!!#just something about this guy who was outright rejected by his family for being too much #too hedonistic too emotional too impulsive #and sent away from the only home he's ever known to a city where he knows truly no one #and has to cut off as much of his former personality/behavior as possible to try #and earn redemption/righteousness be what his family wants #the way he has to constantly earn Elthina's approval but it never stays nothing he does is ever truly good enough #and how other than her and Hawke (presuming they actually take the time to get to know him which like..a lot of players don't)#he never truly knows anyone in Kirkwall he's always a stranger in that city #i forget what my point was but I love Sebastian he makes me so fucking sad #yes I'm playing DA2 again it's fine i don't have a problem i can stop whenever i want mind your business lol #dragon age #sebastian vael #dragon age 2

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readwritealldayallnight · 1 month ago

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“And you ladies are goin’ to be alright?”

“Oh yeah, cabbie’s on his way for us. You go ahead and get this one home.” Your friends giggle as they take their turns hugging you goodbye, the process taking nearly ten minutes thanks to the never ending drinks you’ve all had tonight.

It was a rare night out for you, celebrating a friends birthday at a bar with your girl gang. With your busy schedules, it was difficult to find time to get together as often, and when you did, your friends went hard. Shot after shot, drink after drink, you’d definitely been beyond tipsy for a while now.

Simon, who had come to pick you up at the end of the night, was thoroughly entertained by the sight of his intoxicated little sweetheart, all giggly and rosy cheeked. Making sure your friends has their own safe way of getting home, he slipped an arm around your waist, wanting to prevent your stumbling legs from landing you face first on the bar floor, and led you towards the exit.

“Oh my gosh.” You giggle, your own arm trying to wind behind his large muscular back. “Simon I’m so happy you’re heeeeeeere! I missed you so much.”

“S’that right?” He humours you, holding the door open with his side as he manages to steer you out of the building and out to the car park. “You an’ the girls have only been out for a few hours, lovie.”

“Well it was a flew, no a few! It was a few hours too long!” You drunkenly mumbled, making Simon’s smile widen, his mind already going over the different painkillers in your bathroom cabinet he could give you in the morning for the hangover you were sure to get. “A few hours too many, away from my Si guy! I don’t like not being with youuuuuu.”

“I know, lovie, I don’t like being apart either. But you’re allowed to have fun with the girls every once in a while.” He attempted to reason with you, fishing a hand into his jacket pocket in search of the keys. “You had fun, right?”

“Yeeesssss… but I like you! So much!”

“I like you too.” He chuckled at you. “If ya had fun s’all that matters. And I’m here now aren’t I? Said I’d come get ya.” He adds, tightening his grip around you in emphasis, not wanting to shake you too much, unsure as to exactly how many drinks you had.

“Oh my gosh that’s so nice to say…” you began drawling on before your feet came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing Simon to stumble forward himself as he stopped alongside you. “Wait…” you mumbled, eyes glancing ahead at the familiar sight of Simon’s truck. “Are you driving me?”

He can’t help but to softly chuckle to himself again, completely endeared by the way drunken you has your face scrunched up in consideration, apparently having forgotten that between the two of you, Simon would in fact be the one behind the wheel.

“I am.” He replies simply, watching you process his words.

“Okay, well, I just need to call Soap first.” You mumble, trying to pull your phone out of your back pocket with great effort.

“What’ya need to call that tosser for?” Simon asked, now the one feeling confused.

“I’ve just never actually written a will, and if you’re driving then I think I should probab- ahh!” You squeal as Simon scoops you up over his shoulder, swatting a large hand against the plump of your behind, covering the short distance to the passenger side.

“Yeah yeah, very funny, cheeky girl.” He says, opening the door and helping you into the seat before buckling you in, a smile on his face the entire time. He comes around to his side and hops in the drivers seat, starting up the engine. As he starts to pull out of the parking and back onto the main road, Simon glances towards your figure huddled up in the passenger seat, already singing along to the first thing that came up on the radio, and wonders to himself just how much you’ll remember in the morning.

The last time he’d drank with you, you were completely out of business the next day, saying that you could hardly remember a thing from the night prior, and even then he wasn’t sure you were as intoxicated as you were currently. Deciding to have a bit of fun and take a chance Simon asks you:

“Hey lovie?”

“Mhm?”

“When I ask ya to marry me, what do ya think you’ll say?”

“Uh, I will say YES! Duh!” You reply, the answer obvious to you no matter what state you’re in. However, because you are in fact drunk, you then add “and then I’m gonna get down on my knees too Si, and I’m gonna give you the best bestest head in the whole world actually is what I will do.”

“Hm, okay.” He answers casually, keeping the urge to laugh contained for a bit longer, wanting to keep teasing you. “And uh, how many kids do you think you’re gonna want us to have?”

“Simon,” you playfully sing song to him, angling yourself to face towards him and reaching a finger out to try and poke his cheek, landing more towards his shoulder. “Do you have feelings for me or something?”

“Or somethin’” he says quickly, “Come on lovie, how many babies am I puttin’ in ya, hm?”

“Mmm, at least two I think. So that at Halloween, Simon oh my gosh, at Halloween! We can do a family costume and all be ghostbuste-”

“We’re not gonna be ghostbust-”

“We will be ghostbusters.” You nod to yourself, glancing away from him as his opinion is no longer valid, before changing your mind and looking at him with all the love you can muster at that moment. “Simon, it sounds like you liiiiiiiike meeeee.” You attempt to tease. “You wanna get married? And have babies?”

“‘Course I do, lovie.”

“You think about that?”

“Every day.”

“Every day?”

“Mhm.” He confirms, sending you his own loving look.

“Well you better get me my ring then mister, cause I like yoooouuu too.” You giggle, before gasping as the song changes and starting to sing along.

He watches you in the passenger seat, a content smile upon his face as he listens to you singing without a care in the world, unaware that Simon has had your ring picked out and purchased since your first kiss. He’s just been waiting for the right time to ask you. And now that you’ve unknowingly given him your own blessing, he’s not so sure he can wait much longer.

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isamoa · 11 months ago

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“ WHAT GETS THEM HARD! ”

jjk men x f!reader ࿐ MDNI.

ᰔ、summary. jjk scenarios on how their dicks get hard ofc

ᰔ、tags. (ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso), nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, sexting, masturbation, etc.

ᰔ、a/n. these are just my silly depictions. if u dont agree idgaf lol

SATORU GOJO has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive. his pants definitely start feeling a little tighter at the sight of you eating a popsicle or something. specifically in public. he would have no shame in it either—casually forming a smirk on his face and dropping a snarky innuendo about the way you’re eating. “can you suck me off like that when we get home?” he’d mumble from across the table, his eyes peeking out from the top of his glasses, a smirk plastered on his lips; wet from the constant licking of his tongue. your eyes widen, a small ‘pop’ sounding from your mouth when you took the frozen sweet out to gasp at the man in front of you. “gojo! are you serious?” you’d yell in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone had heard him. “you’re right,” he’d sigh, standing up from his chair to reveal the very prominent and very obvious bulge in his pants. “we should just do it now.”

SUGURU GETO on the other hand is a polite man. like satoru, he’s a real freak in the sheets—but not as shamelessly. the littlest things can get him hard for sure, but unintentionally seeing your undergarments would really get him going. like an accidental peek at your panties from under your skirt, or a shirt thats a little too see-through showing off the print on your bra. he wouldn’t say anything of course, not right away. you would just be minding your own business one minute and then he’s dragging you towards the bedroom the next. “sugu- what are you-?” you would ask in a confusing tone, craning your head to look at the said man who was now behind you—pushing your stomach up against the countertop; a single hand brought up to grope your breast while the other laid flat against your hip. “your bra is showing.” he’d let you know blankly; an attempt to distract you while his hand slid it’s way into your pants. you would look down in response to his comment, noticing that your bra was in-fact showing like he said. unfortunately for him, you also already noticed the hardon pressed against your back.

TOJI FUSHIGURO gets hard from eating pussy. simple as that. he will get embarrassingly sloppy—juices coating his face and dripping down his chin, loving every second of it while his cock slowly grows harder. emphasis on grows. and if you think for a second that he does it for your pleasure, think again. this man will eat you out purely for his enjoyment only. his eyes are closed and his hands are squeezing at your thighs—legs thrashing uncontrollably from the uncomfortable pressure in his pants that’s about to come undone. “toji- let me help you.” you’d beg with a whimper, dragging your hand from the top of his head down to his cheek when you noticed the constant shuffling of his legs and the crease in his eyebrow. he’d laugh darkly, the breathy snicker creating a hum between your core that made a whine escape from your lips. “im fine mama,” he’ll say cockily, pulling a hand away from your leg to undo his zipper. “ill cum soon, you don’t gotta do ‘nun.”

CHOSO is a needy guy. his face will turn red at a simple flirty text—but send him a slutty pic and he might just cream his pants. fully naked or dressed in lingerie, his favorite or not, he will definitely feel some pressure down below. he might ignore you for a while, uncertain on how he should reply; if he’s even able to. “fuck- couldn’t wait till i got home, could you?” he’d whine quietly, trying his best to keep his voice down from the bathroom of his office job; one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other rushed to unbuckle his belt. “sorry cho,” you’d apologize from the other line, voice rather faint as you posed for another picture to send him. “when are you coming?” you ask doubtfully just as his phone vibrates with another notification from your contact. “now- im comin’ now baby.” he replies with a huff, phone almost slipping from his ear. “really!?” you try to clarify—much more excited than the first time. “no, i mean im cumming. right now.”

#my goofy ahh side coming out with the choso one #THIS TOOK FOREVER #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto x reader #geto smut #choso x reader #choso smut #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #jjk men x reader #jjk smut #isamoa #jujutsu kaisen smut

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lokissweater · 3 months ago

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“i would never lie to you.”

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: inumaki’s always coming home to you from missions coughing up mass amounts of blood and completely overdoing it while fighting curses with his cursed speech technique. and no matter how many times you tell him to be careful, he just doesn’t, arguing with him, giving him the cold shoulder, and completely unaware of the reason behind why he fights so hard when he’s out there— that reason being of course… because of you.

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, toge and reader have a lil argument but it’s more the aftermath, slight sexual mention but it’s literally once and nothing LOL, no smut!, toge thinks he’s not doing enough SNIFFF, angst with comfort, toge is DEVOTED to you, aged up characters, pet names, afab!reader.

word count: 2.3k

authors note: short n sweet one!! wanted to give you guys a break from my MLA format essays i always make y’all read LMFAOOO!! this one is SHO SOFT AHHHH :] i hope this keeps you guys fed in the meantime while i write the next one! i love you and i love you all ALWAYS MWAAHH <33

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toge inumaki hates it when you don’t talk to him.

as if he doesn’t do that enough already, toge absolutely despises when you both get into arguments or heated discussions and you turn a cold shoulder to him— needing space to unwind and prevent yourself from lashing out even more, to let the situation simmer down.

he understands it. believe him he does— you’re upset and angry and you need time to cool off… but toge is stubborn and needy and just doesn’t care, needing you and only you, him going absolutely crazy at the silence in your shared apartment that he was starting to hear random ringing in his ear drums.

so as he sat on the couch, eyes unblinking as they stared off into the darkness of the living room as the sun had already began to set, you upstairs locked away— he wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and let his cursed speech force you to come downstairs and talk to him.

but he didn’t, though the thought was definitely tempting, as toge vowed the day that he laid eyes on you to never ever use his cursed technique on you, even if it was harmless, an oath he wanted to carry with him until his very death bed and until he was six feet under.

his ears perked up then at the quiet sounds of the upstairs room door knob twisting and clicking open, soft padded footsteps making their way down the hall and closer to where he was, feet sticking against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

at the sight of you with your hair a little disheveled, your eyes so red and puffy, and an arm wrapped around yourself as you rummaged through the fridge looking for fuck knows what and not sparing a single glance at him— toge felt like a fifty pound gutting weight was resting on his chest and crushing his heart.

you had both argued about something you always seemed to circle back to almost every week. but this time, you were sick and tired and fed up, seeing as toge was never going to try and understand the situation at hand through your worried eyes.

every time toge was out for a mission, you would spend your days anxiously throwing yourself over the couch or trying to keep yourself busy with random activities like baking or scrapbooking (which you deemed later meaningless), all within the sole purpose of trying to get your mind off of your boyfriend and the recklessness he always seemed to pull while on missions, regardless of how much you begged and pleaded with him to be more careful and aware of his health.

toge inumaki had such a powerful and lethal cursed technique that frightened and astonished you all at the same time, a conflicting feeling to have when he had to leave you in the middle of the night or during the early hours of the morning to run around and fight curses… but always coming home to you warm and loving and safe.

but not right now.

not when toge had literally come home this morning with not even two steps in the door and he was already on his knees, coughing up strings and loads of crimson blood, it pooling on the floor as he had used his cursed speech to the highest degree today and had you a crying mess thinking he was dying.

and he always did that. always. today was just the worst of them all, him without a fault coming home with excruciating pain in his bruised and clawed up throat, the cough syrup medicine he usually downed like water having absolutely no effect anymore as you scrambled around every time trying to find a solution, toge brushing off your distressed and frightened rambling as if his health wasn’t a big deal, and as if how much it affected you wasn’t a big deal either.

upon you closing the fridge, toge slowly stood from the couch and carefully walked over to you, his throat still in pieces but his mind lurching and guilty over how upset you were at him.

he slowly raised a gentle hand and placed it on your shoulder, you shaking your head somberly in response— your back to him.

“i don’t wanna talk right now toge i’m sorry…” you mumbled, rubbing over your tired sore eyes.

he squeezed your shoulder, insisting.

but you only shook your head again.

toge huffed and placed both hands on your shoulders this time, physically turning you around to face him— his eyes soft and his eyebrows pinched together in pure concern for you.

you peeked up reluctantly, but the sight of his face and the events from earlier flashing through your mind only made your bottom lip wobble and the bottom of your palms shoot up to dig into your eyes, more stinging tears flooding in and slipping through the corners of your closed lids.

his heart fucking broke.

“why don’t you care toge?” you hiccuped. “i worry myself sick every time you leave for a mission and— and that’s fine because it’s what you do but you never take care of yourself!”

he gently pried your shaking hands away from your eyes and wiped your tears softly with his thumbs, caressing your cheeks after— wishing so badly, more than anything in this fucking world, to just be able to speak to you like a normal human being instead of resorting to words scrambled on a piece of paper or text messages on a screen.

he gently placed a little timid peck to your nose before releasing your face and fumbling around in his pockets for his phone, tapping it awake once he retrieved it and opening his notes app to write out a sentence.

he flipped and faced the screen towards you, the brightness making you squint a bit.

“i do care i swear. i just always forget when i’m in the middle of it and i’m sorry baby.”

“so you keep forgetting after what feels like the fifteenth time i’ve told you?” you wiped more tears from your cheeks. “how— how do you think it makes me feel when you come home and you’re coughing up blood all over your clothes and the furniture huh? all over me?”

he sighed softly through his nose and went to type again, but you continued.

“i get scared toge that one day you’ll push yourself way too far and then you just won’t come home. you scare me when you cough up so much blood like that!—”

toge tugged you in then with his unoccupied hand and wrapped his arms around you, pushing your head in and stuffing your face against his chest— the scent of his freshly washed t-shirt filling your nose as you cried softly.

fuck he felt like such a douche.

he typed for a moment behind your head, a pit in his stomach that only grew in size the longer he heard your little sniffles.

toge pulled back a bit, his arms still keeping you in place but just enough so that he could lower his phone and show you his message.

“please please don’t cry. i’m really sorry okay i really am and honest to god this won’t happen again.”

you nodded meekly and he flipped his phone back, quickly typing again and showing you once he finished.

“i feel like you think i don’t care but that’s not true at all. part of the reason why i try so hard when i work is because the more curses i fuck up the safer you’ll be when you’re out there without me.”

you laughed a bit at his wording, and he beamed at that, typing.

“i love you pretty girl. and im sorry i always get blood everywhere.”

“oh i don’t care about the mess baby, i care about youu,” you whined lightly and wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him in tight.

“and i love you too, a lot… like an embarrassing amount that strips away my dignity.”

he chuckled boyishly and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his body stuttering slightly as a single thought grazed his mind— the same thought that’s been in the crevices of his brain since he asked you to be his.

you felt his tension and pulled back.

“what?”

toge bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at you, his weight shifting as he contemplated telling you something he didn’t want to burden or upset you with, the pad of his thumb softly rubbing over your chubby cheek.

you quirked an eyebrow. “what? are you cheating on me?”

he burst out laughing and shook his head, kissing your forehead before dropping his hand from your cheek and pulling out his phone again.

he typed for a minute then showed you.

“me not being able to speak to you like a normal boyfriend should or respond to you whenever makes me freaking useless. so i push myself out there to keep you safe because that’s literally the least i can do for you, since i can’t even do the bare minimum.”

you gasped softly. “toge huh? this is—”

he shook his head once more and you stopped as he typed again.

“i always try to make you laugh with the things that i do or whenever i text you because i’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me not being able to talk to you and you’ll leave. which is also something i would never blame you for and understand.”

your heart squeezed in the worst excruciatingly way possible, completely baffled and mortified to the fact that toge was thinking about things like this and wholeheartedly believing it without you noticing or him saying anything to you about it.

he typed again.

“that’s why i cosplay as gojo when i leave for missions and come back a dumbass with blood in my mouth. that’s why i forget when you tell me to be careful because the need to be something for you is way fucking greater.”

“togeee!” you sobbed, bursting out crying like a little baby as you were moved and haunted by his words simultaneously, your arms engulfing him as he desperately shot his hands out and quickly wiped your tears again, shaking his head frantically as if pleading with you not to cry.

“how could you ever believe that?” you nudged him away and hiccuped, your eyes serious. “why haven’t you told me about this? everything you just said is literally propaganda.”

he chuckled, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“toge, why do you think i’ve been with you for so long? do you think i’m just dicking around?”

“dicking around on my dick?”

you swatted his phone away. “no! not right now.”

you both shared a small giggle, twinkling eyes looking at each other.

“if i felt like you weren’t doing even the bare minimum, i would’ve been gone before you had the chance to put this ring on—”

his gaze drifted down to the black shiny heart promise ring on your ring finger that you held up for him, and he smiled softly.

“baby what you do for me everyday is above and beyond the bare minimum. i’m happy. i’m so happy to be with you that you not doing enough has never crossed my mind and it never will.”

you slid your arms around his neck and pulled him down a little, gently. “i’ve never cared about your ability to speak. i fell in love with you, who you are, and the fact that i did without you having to iterate words to me? olympic sport.”

toge rolled his eyes playfully at your comment, and you stood on your tippy toes and kissed the tip of his pretty nose then. “all men do when they talk is lie anyways…” you tilted your head. “but i know you’ll never lie to me.”

“never.” he mouthed silently.

he bundled you up in his arms and lifted you like you were nothing, him carefully leaning in and pressing his lips to yours as if you were a fragile little thing— kissing you so devotedly, warmly, his forehead resting against yours once he pulled apart after greedily getting his daily fix of you.

“i know your job as a jujutsu sorcerer pays the bills and comes with you putting yourself in difficult situations… and my job doesn’t even compare, but please don’t overdo it for my sake. i want you to come home, okay?”

you know it’s selfish… he should be saving lives no matter the cost.

but he was your man. was it so bad to just want to keep him for the rest of your days? to get the chance to grow old with him, and buy a little quiet house on the country side like you always joked about in the late hours of the night with him? drinking cool glasses of lemonade on the porch?

“please don’t always be the hero.” you whispered guiltily. “but if you must… just keep me in mind while you do it.”

you’re always on his mind. he hopes you know that.

toge breathed softly through his nose and smoothly set you back down, the pads of your feet making contact with the icy tile flooring as his hands dragged up from around your waist to the sides of your head, him pushing a hard kiss to your cheek as if to seal your request.

“do you promise?” you mumbled.

he pulled back and held his little pinky out for you, and you giggled, linking yours with his firmly.

“you can’t go back on it okay? you used your pinky it’s legally binding!” you warned, a silly smile on your face. “don’t lie to me and break it.”

toge grinned and leaned towards you as he bent down a bit— your gaze locking with his as he looked at you at eye level with his hands on his knees, him mouthing his next words, slowly.

words that made your cheeks buzz a cutesy pink, words that he took seriously, and words that tied you to him and the little house by the countryside he wanted so badly with you, as those words solidified how much he truly truly loved you— him hoping you always knew.

“i would never lie to you.” he mouthed.

taglist!! <33: @saebaey

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