#the car doesnt have a key ignition

[sparklehoard]

I'm going to personally kill whoever was responsible for my mom's car key setup

[thisisthevoice]

yeah im in a polycule. im dating. axton borderlands and his turret gf. and they. are dating me and my car

[theartofclowns]

7/11 (art x reader)

note: this is my first time writing so pls tell me if its good or not.

tw: a bit suggestive, mostly fluff and cute stuff, mentions of making out.

NOT PROOF READ BTW

also he uses ASL to communicate (only once i think)

anyways enjoy!

As you were on your phone, headphones in, listening to music and colouring in a book, you hear the door open. Its your boyfriend Art, you smile and jump up to give him a hug. "I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" you squeal in excitement as you hug him tight. He looks down and smiles as he hugs back, not as tight, and kisses your forehead softly. You hold him until he gets a bit uncomfortable and pushes you away. "sorry.." you whisper in embarrassment. you then go back to the couch and get back to colouring. Art sits next to you and watches you colour with bright markers and crayons. You look at him with a smile, "what?" you ask as his eyes stay on yours. He then grabs your hand and holds it before brining it to his lips and kissing it. You blush and look away before feeling a familiar feeling. You look at his lap and then look back up. "can i sit there?" you ask still flustered from the kiss on your hand. He nods and pats his lap as he watches you climb over him, legs on each side of him, and sit. You then look into his eyes before kissing his lips. Your lips intertwining immediately. Art moves his hands around your hips and pushes the kiss into a small makeout. Your phone rings and pulls both, you and art, out of yalls "makeout". You pick up your phone realizing its just a spam caller. You turn your phone off and look at him again before saying, "im hungry..", He looks at you confused before rolling his eyes. You look at him with a dirty look, "what? you calling me fat huh? you think im big huh?" you accuse. He looks at you and shakes his head quickly, you start laughing and then randomly stop. "Art im really hungry.. can we go to the store or something?" you ask, "ill get you something and you dont have to drive!" you add. He then silently sighs and nods before shaking his head, singing he doesnt want anything. You smile and slide off his lap running to get the keys, as arts still stuck on the couch just looking at you. "what are you waiting for??" you ask, trying to get him off the couch. he then sighs and gets up walking over to you. You walk out of the house making sure hes still behind you before walking over to the car, parked in the front of the house, and you open the passenger door first, waving your hand towards the seat "ladies first" you say with a cocky smirk on your face. He rolls his eyes and then gives you the finger before getting in. you walk to the dirvers seat and open it for yourself as you jump up and into the car. You put the key into the ignition, and put the car into reverse as you back out into the street. Art moves his hand onto you thigh as you start to drive. You stop at a stoplight and turn to look at him. He's already staring at you, you continue to stare back untill the light turns green. You drive until you see a 7/11 and you pull into the parking lot. You look at art and smile as you open the door. "you wanna come in or stay in here?" you ask, he then points to himself and the door and he begins opening it. You walk to his side and hold his hand tightly as yall walk into the store together. You grab a couple snacks and you grab a soda before looking up at art to see if he wants anything. He shakes his head, no, and you nod again walking to the cahsier. you hand him the money and you leave with a smile. You hold his hand as you sit down on the ground. You open your snacks and start eating them. Thats when you see Art eyeing your food. "you want some now, dont you?" you smile as he nods. You hand him a chip and you watch him devour it like hes starving (which he probably is). Once you and art finish the snacks Art stands up and walks towards the car, leaving you behind. You pout as he leaves you, and you run after him. "Whyd you leav me!?" you ask while grabbing his hand tightly. He shrugs and then silently laughs. You roll your eyes and walk with him to the car.

anyways hope yall like it! ill make a pt 2 if yall want it!!

[fuck-customers]

this is a coworker thing. this guy got hired a couple of months ago and we have been having problems the whole time. he basically becomes full of rage anytime i ask him to do anything or correct something he says or answer a question. which i usualy avoid but today he was trying to inform me a customer had a key for the car door and a different one for the ignition, and i simply asked if he could label them. he didnt understand, so i explained i meant to put a key tag on it and label the function rather than the customer name. after he finished with that customer, he told me and one of my managers who happened to be in the room that he was going to cuss someone out next time someone tries to boss him around. i dont think i was rude or anything when i asked and i dont think i was bossy about it. i think hes just upset because i am a woman and at least 20 or 30 years younger than him so it upsetting that i know things he doesnt. this is prolly the 5th similar incident in maybe 3 months. i really just try not to speak to him but it ruins the normaly pretty fun atmosphere at work. i feel like im at the end of my rope. and when i asked he just yelled "im not arguing with you about it"

i try to be pretty respectful of people, especially at work. but i truly don't understand what I'm doing that's so disrespectful and he refuses to explain.

Oh god! I'm now old enough that no one remembers when cars had two keys.

-Rodney

[sunny-ssunset]

Pretty in pink!

Chapter 2

South park x a girly reader

divider by pinterest

Masterlist!

♡I suppose i'll make another since the other did soooo well it was hella fun to write tbh AGED UP

♡Sorry if its ooc or Y/n is a bit mean, I try to make my characters as realistic as possible and with that it means giving them bad qualities as well as good ones. If you have any feedback or like anything to add to the story please let me know

Welcome'd by the scent of freshly brewed coffee, Y/n walked to the till, Bebe clung to Y/n's arm as she asked for their orders, "Hiii tweak, could we get what we usually order?"

Tweak froze as soon as he heard Y/n speak, "GAH- YES." He dashed off to make drinks for the girls. Y/n giggled at Tweak's reaction, "Awwwh he's adorable"

"I'm sure he thinks your adorable too Y/n..." Wendy mumbled, not wanting Y/n to hear. "Wendy, You are so pretty I notice people fawning over you all the time! Besides You and Stan are fine arent you?" Y/n tried to comfort her, noticing the slight smile on Wendy's face, Its the thought that counts

"H-Here is your drink!" Tweek interupted, shaking as he handed Y/n and her friends' drinks over, blushing as Y/n's hand slightly brushed his, She smiled, handing the boy his cash.

They walked out of the coffee shop, giggling away and getting into Y/n's car, "Hey I heard Tweak likes Craig anyways." Bebe gossiped. "I thought that myth was busted when we saw Craig on a date with that New kid, What was their name again?" Said Y/n, putting the key into ignition.

"I'm not sure, They didnt have any memorable qualities" Wendy laughed as Y/n started driving to school, taking a sip of her drink. "Y/n Keep your eyes on the road" Bebe scolded taking her drink of her. "Hey i just bought you guys' drinks watch who yo- AH!" Y/n screeched swerving as she almost drove into another car. "Y/n this is the last time you are driving us" Wendy laughed awkwardly, trying to make light of the situation.

As the long nerve wrecking drive went on, and Y/n finally paying attention to the road, The girls FINALLY ended up at school. "That was soo long" Bebe cried, never sounding this relived in her entire life. "You are so dramatic" Y/n pouted rolling her eyes, "Girl you almost killed us" Wendy laughed at Y/n, Shifting her attention to her phone as she recieved a text from Stan.

Stan the man

We need to talk.

Cmon Wendy this is serious dont ignore me.

Wendy is typing...

Wendy knew what was coming, She always did its either a 'Its not you its me' or 'Its just the wrong time for me to be in a relationship right now' I mean yeah they'd get back together but relying on Stan's attention is the only source of self esteem she gets, its not like anyone else notices her with Y/n around...

"Wendy are you okay?" Y/n put an arm around Wendy's shoulder as she comforted the girl. "Yeah I think Stan wants to break up ag-"

"Hey hey hey pretty ladies!!!" Kenny interupted walking up to the girls not realising the context of the situation. "KENNY!!!" Y/n ran up to him, forgetting about Wendys problems to hug him.

"We'll talk later hun I promise" Y/n whispered, giving a comforting smile. How could Wendy hate her? She doesnt mean it, She didnt mean to ignore Wendy, She is too perfect to do that... Right?

divider by @k1ssyoursister

[dreamfilleddonuts]

Was going to take Reese to the vet again before work, and Mom accidentally washed the key fob to our push start ignition car. So. getting rides to and from work from her best friend while we figure that mess out. Thank gods our neighbor is a locksmith and showed me how to get new fobs online and will program them for us. Doesnt help me get my cat to the vet rn. May have to uber after work tomorrow.

She still isn't eating. She's now refusing the new food she would eat at first, treats, the wet food the dr wanted us to try, and churos. Last night she started vomiting green. That's bile, not stomach acid. I recognize it from when my gallbladder was actively trying to kill me a few years ago. So. This isnt good, it means her liver is now not working right.

I am so so scared. She was doing better. And its worse now than before.

so yeah. That's the update.

[sweet-littlerose]

Every Little Everything || Matt S. X Reader Fic

Part Five In The Moonlight

“Didn't you miss me?” he whispered, each hand trapping you on either side, palms planted against your car as his face rested inches from yours. “I'm sorry I didn't come see you like I promised, Nate said you were mad at me for it. I thought you hated me” he said, eyes searching yours for anything other than hate. You scoff, not because he thought you were mad but clearly Nate had come up with a lot of things. From telling Matt that you were out of town to convincing him you were angry at him for not visiting. “I don't hate you” you say, your voice a mere whisper as you look into his eyes. “Then why…why did you run away when you saw me?” he asked, dropping his hands to your hips. His fingers would have burned holes into your skin from how your skin tingled under his touch. Is this the part where you tell him that you were dating his closest guy friend, that you’d been shacking up with Nate to try to forget the feelings you had for him that never seemed to fully fade? Your lips part, ready to spill the truth till you hear a voice from behind Matt, making him reel back from you, a soft pink tinting his cheeks.

“What's going on?” Nate asked, walking out of the house and down the driveway “I…I guess I am wondering the same thing” you say, turning to face your boyfriend. “Y/N…” Nate was clearly at a loss for words considering your surprise appearance. Matt didn't seem too happy either considering his friend had lied to him regarding you being ‘out of town’. “Look…Y/N can I talk to you in private?” Nate asks, almost begging as you and Matt stand side by side facing him. You nod, looking at Matt who has a brow raised.

“I’ll explain just…give me a minute yea?” you say to Matt He nods, snaking a hand around your waist and without hesitation, kissing your cheek which has you melting. He walked back into the house and turn back to look at Nate. “So…where did I go on vacation? Somewhere cool I hope, like Hawaii or ooo the Bahamas?” you say, sarcasm leaking off your tongue “Look, they surprised me, I didn't know they were gonna be in town Y/N” Nate says, his defense weak and nearly non existent “I don’t really think that matters. You told me you were busy, ignored me for days and here I was thinking you were here hooking up with some other girl which in all honesty I would've preferred because-” your sentence is cut short “Because you still have feelings for Matt” he huffed out “Nate..” you try to explain “I don't need to hear you explain yourself Y/N. Thats why I didn't want you to know he was here and its why I wanted him to think you hated him” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face “Because you think I would leave you for him? Do you think I would just give up on us?” you ask “It doesnt matter…cuz as long as Matt and You are friends…you will never be over him which means there's really no us'' he said, dropping his shoulders in defeat.

He wasn't wrong, as long as Matt was a part of your life, you wouldn't be able to think about him in a way that was respectful to Nate but it still hurt, hearing the anger in Nate's voice. You pull your bottom lip between your top teeth, tears stinging your eyes as you grip your keys

“Go home Y/N” Nate said, turning on his feet and going back inside. You stood there, swallowing the lump in your throat before climbing into the driver's seat of your car and shakily sliding the key into the ignition and starting the car. 

The tears stream down your face, chest heaving as you sob on the drive home. Your phone rings nonstop, Matt’s name popping up on your phone that was face up in the passenger seat. You cant bring yourself to answer. You figured Nate had spilled his guts to Matt and he knew everything from you dating Nate to the breakup because you had feelings for Matt. You couldn't face that, not today. Pulling into your driveway, you shift your car into park and pull the keys from the ignition and sit back in the seat. A deep sigh escapes you, your fingers undoing the seat belt. You couldn't bring yourself to move yet, your eyes still blurred over with tears as you pull your knees to your chest. You felt awful for so many reasons. Nate, deep down was a great guy, he had been there when Matt couldn't be and you knew you had hurt him because a part of him always knew you weren't really over Matt. Nate put everything into making the relationship work because he knew how deeply you needed comfort though everything and yet deep down all you really wanted was Matt which only fed into the guilt that had now taken up permanent residence in your head. Sobs cause the silence in the car to shatter, your hands covering your face as you try to fight the voices in your head telling you how terrible you are. Once inside you find comfort on your couch, snuggled up in a blanket watching 90 day fiance. Anything to forget the shitty day you were having. At Least watching other relationships fail under weird and ridiculous circumstances makes you feel way less alone. Your phone was now on silent, Matt hadn’t given up his spam of calls though now they were more spaced out. It all settled in when you finally sat down on the couch after the long cry in your car. Matt was gonna leave again to go back to LA and everything would go back to normal. You’d be alone and this time it would hurt worse because Nate wouldn't be here to pick up the pieces and that was enough to send you spiraling. Your eyes flutter open, a yawn escaping your mouth as you turn your head from your lying position on the couch. You grab your phone, clicking the button and reading the time. 

12:26 AM

26 Missed Calls From Matt 18 Missed Texts From Matt 22 Missed Voicemails From Matt 4 Missed Calls From Chris 3 Missed Texts From Chris 16 Missed Calls From Nick 5 Missed Texts From Nick 2 Missed Voicemails From Nick

You groan, rubbing a hand over your face as you turn your phone off. You close your eyes, ready to crawl back into the coziness of sleep till a knock on the door has you jumping into a sitting position. You blink, thinking you imagined the noise till it happens again. You shoot up from your spot on the couch, fumbling over the blanket that had fallen to the floor. “Shit” she whispered, picking up the blanket and throwing it on the couch. You make your way to the door, unlocking the door and opening it. “Matt?” You ask in shock, seeing the man standing at your door, his hair disheveled and stubble on his sharp jaw moving into sight as he lifts his head to look at your face. 

He pushes into the house, shutting the door behind him and smashing his lips to yours. 

He shrugs his jacket off and throws it over the arm of the couch as he pushes you further into the house, his lips only pulling away to pull your shirt off and throwing it to the floor. You haven't had a second to think, your lips kissing him back with the same hunger as he pressed your back against the wall. You were about to ask something but his lips were quick to find yours again through the moon light shining through the blinds of the living room windows. You let out a soft whimper, his lips moving to kiss your neck leaving pretty little love bite trails to your collarbone. You blink, your mind racing as you try to find words to say.

“W-what are you doing?” you whisper out

He picks his head up, eyes meeting yours in the dark. Though you can’t see him all that clear, you know he’s making direct eye contact as his lips part to speak.

“Something I should’ve done a long fucking time ago”

-Im feeling extra feral on this fine evening (its 4am)-

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

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

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

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

♡ word count- 9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

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

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

“I’m at our park.”

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

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

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

“Okay.”

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

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

You still look so beautiful.

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

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

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

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

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

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

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

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

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

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

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

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

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

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

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

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

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

You huff. 

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

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

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

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

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

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

“It’s nothing!” 

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. 

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

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake all thoughts off. 

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

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

Perfect.

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

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

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

Is he too casual?

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

Maybe it’s too much.

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

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

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

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

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

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

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

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

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, are we going?”

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

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

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

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

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

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

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

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

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

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

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

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

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

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin nods knowingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi Kook.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was too late.

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

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

“You should have brought a jacket.”

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

Jungkook.

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

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

“You came.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Every word.”

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

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would like it if you would.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

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

“You’re such a little smartass.”

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

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

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

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

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

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

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

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

“How about this? Not a dream?”

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

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

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

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still dreaming?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I plan to find out everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I need you, my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

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

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

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All yours.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, Kookie.”

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

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

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

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[faorism]

[also can be read/bookmarked on ao3 here. inspired by a conversation with @psqqa]

parker's nonbinary parker-genderedness comes from the heart, the texture of words and feelings in their body. how they bend and twist and slip in and out of being seen. being understood. they know every inch of their body: literally. they know to a fraction of a fraction of an inch the dimensions of their form in space, in movement, and at work. they always know how they will fall because they don't need a scale to feel their weight, give or take three pounds. for too long, every touch was like fire. it hurt like too tight handcuffs after a car chase; parker needed to learn just the way to always always get out of every trap and attempt to hold them back, and they did. its the way things can be said in ways that make their body flinch or laugh or pout in equal measure, and its how what people say about them enters their body and lingers, sometimes. eventually, they want that lingering when they find the right people. the right touch. they reach out and touch and poke and hug. and there's parts of their body that are just body parts and others that are useful and others that make parker's stomach twist if they think about it too long, so they just fucking don't. alice white is one of these parts, because alice white is a part of them but only as a familiar harness that doesnt need its straps readjusted when put back on: alice white is not parker because she is a woman and parker is not. parker is parker because parker can do the things they do, the only of their kind and the way they like it.

hardison's nonbinary manhood (lowercase, not uppercase Manhood and certainly not cis) comes from the head: the mind and a cerebral chase. its looking at the world and thinking, where is my place here. how do i engage and the clickclack a keyboard building the better world he knows can and will exist. even with nana being nana, being afk was a lot for alec as a queer black boy coming into his own; there was safety in the ways he could construct anonymous, countless, contradictory selves in the system of 1s and 0s. he doesn't have a hacker name because he never wanted to be known. until he does want to be known; by then, fuck it, know me. crime became his performance, the performativity of all that he is and can be online. he was the best and he was gonna prove it with his grand plans and grander successes. he researches and learns and asks questions and rehearses his powerpoints and designs. he's hacked into the mainframe, yall, and recreated it in the wonderful vision of him as himself in all the multiplicities he harbors within. age of the geek means a time for him to navigate the world in all his brilliant radiance; if he finds a barrier, he just comes up with new tech or Day Zero or a goddamn system for forging a musty ass journal. he was never expected to exist or survive or thrive, so he is a glitch in the system. and, baby, he is here to fuck shit up. [important credit: scholar legacy russell for the language around queer glitches from "glitch feminism."]

eliot's nonbinary he/him dykeness comes from the material, the tangible, the thing-yness of life. its in his apron and his knife and the beads in his braids, when he wears them. its in the small hoops he rarely wears but always has an option to. its a punching bag in every office and home grown vegetables and his toolbox and his "tool"box and its the fact that if he showed up with a ring of keys, no one would question it for a second. its the fucking flannels, man, and them big ugly ergonomic sneakers [that please yall invest in, from the mouth of a dyke i swear!!!! they are so fucking great and so gentle on your feet and knees] and its having leather wristbands but also specifically favorite leather wristbands. its a flat iron and its the ecofriendly hair products hardison got for him special. its the weight of his guilt and his regret at never taking the moment to ask himself, what is the cabinet of curiosities that is his life; god, there was once he had nothing but endless hotel rooms and nothing precious and nothing that can ever be tied to him. dykeness is a blanket of his compassion and the sigh of relief from those he's calmed down during a crisis. its in that fucking beauty of a challenger, still in perfect condition.

together, they ignite the world as one body, one hope, one vision threaded together in love, a united search for what else they must do, and beyond all else, fun.

[randombubblegum]

i think i’m cursed when it comes to automobiles! do u wanna hear

i think you do

i have a used car-here’s the list of events so far

-battery died in a food lion parking lot at 11 PM. thankfully a friend took me home which was like five minutes away and we jumpstarted it in the morning

-as i was backing out of a spot in a parking garage at my university, my car got stuck in reverse. as in it could only move backwards. there was an empty spot behind me that a guy told me to back the car into (i’ve never done that) (i made it tho) and i left it there til i convinced my parents who hate each other to come help me fix it. my school is almost an hour from home.

-at a taco bell in the parking lot, my car refused to start. my mother drove all the way to my school (again this is almost an hour drive) and by the time she got there my car was running fine again so she just went home

-i hit a parked car trying to pull into a parking spot in the garage when the wheel slipped out my hand and i vroomed straight into it. it was a car belonging to a professor at my college.

-and most recently, this chain of events:

1. wednesday afternoon on my way to my school, my car starts viciously rattling and shaking me around on the interstate. check engine light starts flashing so i get off highway and pull into a VERY SKETCHY 7-11 and wait for an hour and a half for my mother to drive through traffic to get there. i take her car, she manages to drive mine back home to get repaired. it was a misfire of the engine btw

2. thursday afternoon i’ve taken my mother’s car to school. i leave it in the garage for a while and when i start it again, it won’t. the battery is dead. also the keys will not come out of the ignition. i call my father and he jumps the car. it takes an hour. i get home very late

3. this morning! (friday) my mother and i switch back cars! mine is fixed! yay!! i drive it to school and when i try to start my car THE BATTERY IS DEAD. ITS LITERALLY DEAD. i call my girlfriend to please come take me home at 9 pm tonight and my mother and i will try to fix/jump my car in the morning.

that’s all the instances i can remember right now! i’ve had this car for only a few months :)

this is all so incredibly bad have u considered ur car might be literally haunted. either that or it just sucks ass and u should take it back to whoever sold it to u a couple months ago and refuse to leave until they give u ur money back so u can go buy a used car that doesnt suck ass

[wornoutmouse]

Can I request a bakugou x reader quirkless high school au song fic based on the song, " Bad Boy" by Queen Naija (Reader isn't really a 'good girl', but she stays out of problems, keeps to herself, and doesnt like drama. She just has a chill vibe likes listening to R&B shit like that.) please and thank you!💖

Ima tell you this right now. I don’t know how to write a song fic so this is going to be trial and error. Also this song ruined my life, my subconscious learned the lyrics immediately and I only listened to it 4 times. This is not my type of music. I don’t need it in ma brain fam!! 

I never really had a bad boy

You know I've always been a good girl

You lived your life as a master in the art of minding your business. Although you were in the one class in the whole school that couldn’t get a break from excitement, you were able to flawlessly blend into the seams. Of course it wasn't on purpose. You just liked to be in your own bubble. You got good grades and didn’t take part in extra curriculars. An excellent background character.

It wasn’t until you were partnered with the class loud-mouth Katsuki Bakugou, that your life started to take a turn for the better. 

Crazy how it happened so fast boy

The way you rocking my world

Anyone could easily tell you two were opposing forces like oil and water. But as corny as it was, the connection was immediate. Your first plan was to only speak when needed and drown out the white noise with music. Working silently was obviously a struggle for your partner because the next thing you knew, one side of your hearing was exposed to the buzzing excitement of your class.

“What crap are you listening to extra?” You looked at him blandly, one would be a fool to take offense from anything Bakugou says. You watched his face scrunch together in concentration and you could tell that he liked what he was hearing. For the rest of the class hour, you shared headphones and song interests, and for the first time, Bakugou wasn’t yelling.

Yeah, you're my distraction

Love our connection

He often joined the family for dinner and could even hold fluid conversations with your mother without missing a beat or falling behind. 

It didn’t take long for him to even invite you to his own home as well. While your must tastes were similar, home life and house decor were largely different. You found yourself spending hours with his father, gushing over baby pictures of Bakugou, and dinner was quite the spectacle as you watched him and his mother play ping-pong with insults while you enjoyed new Japanese cuisine.

I see so much when I look at you

You got potential

It became a bit of a routine. He would come over your house, your room would be filled with the warm gooey vibes of soul and r&b and you would day dream your worries away. At some point, Bakugou had become a key item to your way of living. 

When you two were alone, he surprised you by toning down his brash attitude and seemed genuinely interested in your aspirations. “So when you graduate, you’ll still have to take another 8 years of college plus 1 more of residency?!” You nod as you eat a spoonful of Cinnamon Crunch. “Why are you acting so surprised, you want to be the president.” Bakugou shrugged with a small smirk on his face, “Yeah but that’s plan B.”

Time is essential

But I'ma take my time with you

Cause you need it

It was Thursday and at 5am when Bakugou called you. He was drunk and angry, cursing with every sentence. You quickly went to pick him up in your mom’s car as fast as you could. An upset Bakugou was a menace to society and if he felt that he needed to call you this late, it must be serious.

You just need someone to keep it real with you

And I see that

“Fucking bitch!” He slurred, leaning against your car door. “That’s not nice Bakugou, at the end of the day that’s still your mother.” You focused on the road trying to avoid flinching whenever he randomly got loud. “You don’t understand. She won’t fuking listen, ion what to be a damn lawyer.” 

You glance wearily over at him downing the rest of his bottle. “I’m assuming she denied the architect's idea.” “What do you fucking think! Old lady want’s me to “continue the family business” like hell!”

I'ma be the one to plant that seed in you

You don't gotta worry

You sighed and made a sharp turn into a Target parking lot. “What the hell we doin ‘ere?” You park and turn the car off, you knew your mom would kill you if you stayed out too long, but this couldn't wait. 

“Katsuki, I’m going to tell you this right here and now. Sometimes adults think they are doing the best for you but they aren’t and you gotta show em that by doing what you think is the best for you and doing it well.”

I won't judge you from your past

I know you're not my first

Bakugou looked at you with slow blinking eyes before scooting closer in his seat. You allowed him to take hold of your face, and didn't look away as his finger rubbed gently along the curve of your lips.

“If you don’t want this….please...tell me to stop.” His face was red, the air was thick and something that was always there, ignited as your lips met.

With drunken strength, he pulls you onto his lap and feels gently along your body as you tug on his lips with your teeth. The car was filled with hormones and heavy breaths as you got more desperate, but not once did he try to undress you. It was him that pulled away first, “What’s wrong?” you asked, out of breath and concerned, but he only shook his head with a wide grin on his face. 

“Marry me.

But I'll make sure that you're my last

We live two different lifestyles babyBut we can change that

“Huh?” you laugh breathlessly, not believing your ears. “Marry me.” You feel your heart speed up so much so you could almost hear it. “But we’re so young, Bakugou, are you sure?” Bakugou cards his fingers through his hair with a determined look on his face. “Of course not now! But in the future.” You cross your arms and look down at him, “You're not messing with me are you Katsuki?” He scoffed, “Do I look like I’m joking you damn nerd?”

Just promise not to hurt me

Cause you know I told you that

You hold out a pinky, “Promise me then.” Bakugou jokingly pretends to bite your finger, “Are you serious right now?!” You huff indignantly, “Promise me Bakugou.” He rolled his eyes, “Ooo, pulling out my last name like that. Fine, I’ll be weird with you just this once.” 

He holds out his pinky finger and loops it with yours. “I promise that as soon as we graduate, I’ll make you mine.” You share another kiss and watch the sun rise over the large Target building without a care in the world.

I never really had a bad boy

You know I've always been a good girl

Crazy how it happened so fast boy

The way you rocking my world

[emmyrosee]

give us a random headcanon go 👀

UHM OK

So

This got long and kind of angsty I’m SORRY-

Axel and Mark are brothers. Axel’s older than mark by a fairly big margin so he offers that good ol’ elder brother wisdom™️ and Mark isn’t always here for it.

Axel’s had to drag mark out of parties more times than he can count, some because he was worried about his lil bro, some because he wasn’t answering moms texts and axel wasn’t about to let him make their momma feel bad.

Like this one time, their mom was punishing Mark for being completely shitfaced and missing something for their grampa, and Mark straight up snuck out of his room, no note, no regards, nothing, and with his mom fearing the absolute worst, that she’d lost her son, her baby, Axel quickly tracked down his brother and hauled his drunk ass right back home, speeding so fast mark was puking in the truck, yelling at him so bad mark pouted, and by the time they got home his brother was just a needy, scolded mess, and their mom was all over him, taking care of him and letting him puke and whine about his tummyache, and if she needed Axel to get anything, he did, not questions asked.

When mark was going through his first serious breakup, Axel really stepped forwards to work him back to normal, doing things with him other than just drinking the problems away like his friends wanted to. They went to cheap bowling alleys and drank cheap beer, they would drive around at 2 am, blasting music as they passed a joint, and it was probably the first real time- like honest, true, raw- that Mark learned it was okay to be a man and cry. He was hitting Axel, screaming and telling him she was every terrible name under the sun and that Axel had no idea what the fuck Mark went through to try to keep her happy.

When Axel pulled over, he shoved Mark back a little, just enough to straighten him back, telling him to stop being a pussy and just embrace it. She was gone. She was no good for him, and she was gone. She broke his heart, it was okay to be sad, and Mark wore his vocal chords raw with his sobs and shrieks of despair. “Why doesn’t she fucking want me, Axe? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing, dude,” he promises over his brothers tears. “You’re at a stupid age where love doesnt mean shit to nobody. Fuck, I am too. But right now, you’re sad because you’re alone, and one day you’re going to find someone, and they’re going to make you fear a lot of things more important than just ‘being alone.’ Trust me dude. You’re too fucking young to get that.”

They don’t talk about that night often. Axel’s jacket collar had been permanently ruined from Mark’s tears and hot breath against the leather, but from then on, instead of just getting drunk off his rocker when he was sad, he’d just find Axel and cry it out.

Their dad passed away when Mark was young, and their mom never really recovered from it. Because of this, Axel really took the role of being momma’s fix-it man, getting an under-the-table job when he was young and making sure Mark had snacks and lunches while their mom took care of the house. When momma Cluney eventually remarried, she never ceased to thank Axel for all he did, and it always put Mark in a weird feeling. Not that he wasn’t grateful beyond words, he just always felt bad that Axel had to go through that at such a young age.

“You were in Kindergarten,” Axel says cooly, passing his brother a beer. “What were you going to do, sell dunk-a-roos for cold, hard cash?”

“I could’ve done more,” he mumbles, taking a long sip of his drink. “Like... I could’ve been more grateful for the toys and the lunch money.”

Axel chuckles and reaches over to ruffle Mark’s hair, “hey; you were fed. You didn’t give mom too much shit. And on your birthday, you got the Power-Ranger toys you wanted. You were grateful. You just didn’t get why you had to wait until your birthday.”

Mark snorts and shoves Axel’s hand away, sighing softly, “I wish I knew him, dude..”

“You look just like him.”

“What was he like?”

Axel hums and leans back in his seat, fingers swirling the lip of his beer bottle, “I remember when I was nine, I told him I was going to run away. Go live in the treehouse of our old house.” He paused to smirk, “bastard made me a lunch box with two peanut butter sandwiches, a bag of barbecue chips and a juice box and said ‘good for you! You’re a man now, do what you gotta do!’ I never made it off of the porch.”

Mark snickers and they get real quiet. “I miss him,” he admits. “I don’t remember him... but I miss him.”

Axel hums again, “he was moms great love. Never laid a hand on us, nor her. He was a good man.”

Mark raises his bottle to his brother, “you’re a good man too, dude.”

“Believe me, mark,” Axel chuckles sadly. “I’m only a quarter of the man he was.”

On a lighter note, Axel taught Mark to drive. He filled his truck with gas, drove them both out to the city limits, butt-fuck no where, with a bag of fast food and his gps.

“Okay,” Axel hums. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

Axel pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to his brother, “you’re driving us back home. Oh, and to CVS, mom needs sugar and milk.”

And with those buggy green eyes, Mark just completely stares at Axel, freaked out and worried (mostly because Axel’s truck is his baby, and Axel was levelheaded enough at all times to hide a body if need be), so with a reassuring smile, axel slips out of the driver side, gesturing mark to slide over the bench-seat, and he slowly walked Mark through the process of starting the car and driving back home.

He hit a curb. And ran a stop-light. Nearly hit a squirrel, but never once did axel raise his voice to him. He would simply tell him it was alright and that “it doesn’t have to be perfect; I just want you to get us home.”

When they finally pull in a few hours later, Mark was so terrified Axel would tell their mom everything, but axel just shook his head. “If I wanted you to be perfect, I wouldn’t have just thrown you into traffic; I wanted to make sure you could drive if I wasn’t around and mom needed you. You got home. We’re alive. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling easy, we’ll go to a parking lot or something. But you did fine.” He smiles and leaves the truck, “but don’t puke in the truck; do it in the front yard, please.”

Which. Mark obeys.

Whenever Mark’s birthday rolls around, Axel drives them up to an old lake house their great-grandparents built, only bringing some clothes, booze and a gas can to get in and out of town, and they fish, make s’mores, and just be kids again. Again, Mark is much younger than Axel, so all the memories Axel has here, Mark doesn’t, so he wants him to enjoy the young years of his life that Axel really couldn’t.

Sometimes, if they’re bold, they’ll bring whoever they’re dating or smashing, but they’ve found it’s better to just have a guys weekend away, only them two in the middle of the woods, with only the fish in the lake to keep them company.

“So you had a treehouse and a fuckin’ cabin before I came along?” Mark asks by the fire, marshmallow clinging to his face childishly. Axel snorts, “dude I haven’t had a birthday party since I was seven, then you showed up.”

“Oh I’m sooo sorry,” Mark sings, rolling his eyes and plopping the last of his s’more in his mouth. Axel sighs dramatically, “don’t be. You made mom happy,” he pats his brother on the shoulder. “And she said I wasn’t allowed to try and return you anymore, so.”

Mark laughs before his brows furrowed, “anymore?”

Axel smirks. “Why do you think you’re so claustrophobic now, Markie?”

“The fuck did you do to me?”

“Shoved you in a box and left you outside.”

“You WHAT.”

“Three times.”

They bicker. They fight. But they’d fucking die for each other. As they got older, they really became best friends and Mark is open to that fact.

In fact, for Axel’s birthday, Mark got his hands on a pikachu doll from the 90’s that Axel was dying to have a kid but couldn’t get because he had to help his mom take care of mark, but every now and again he brought it up to joke.

Mark could tell that, even as an adult, he still wanted that pikachu toy because he wouldn’t shut up about it, so he finally saved up and got it ($150 mint-condition his asshole), and when Axel opened it on his birthday, there was not a dry eye from anyone except Mark.

Big, green eyes flip from the toy to Mark, jaw dropped in surprise and just completely at a loss for words. Mark grins, “now you can shut up about it; you own it. Live your Ash Katchum dreams, freak.”

Axel laughs around his cries, a tattooed hand coming up to stop himself. He wastes no time in stalking his way over to his brother, pulling him in for a tight hug while the younger just hugs him back, still smiling before shoving him off when people tried to get pictures.

“Cant have people who get our Christmas card think I like you or anything,” he snorts, making Axel laugh again before going back to his seat to finish his gifts, but everyone (including himself) knew that Mark won that year.

The first time Axel brings someone home, they’re a guy. Their mom was chillin, she had no problems with it (though she didn’t really expect Morgan to necessarily be a man), Mark was pretty confused. Like, sure Axel always had friends over, but they were never cuddly and touchy before, and it made Mark really curious.

He probably brings it up on one of their fishing trips years later, and axel barely has any clue what he’s talking about at first.

“You seriously don’t remember Morgan?” Mark asks in disbelief. “Like, how do I, but you don’t?”

“I’ve been with a lot of people,” Axel shrugs. Then, he tenses up and a slow grin spreads across his face, “oh. Morgan.”

“Yes! Morgan, the first person you ever brought home!”

“They’re not Morgan anymore,” Axel recalls. “Well, to me anyways. After we broke up, they became she, and her name is Bella. We’re still close, she’s just not Morgan anymore.”

“So... are you... like...?”

Axel smirks, “I’m nothing, dude. No skin off my ass for labels. If you learn anything from me, Markie boy,” he turns to his brother, “do what makes you happy. Love who the hell you want. Mom’s going to love you. I’m gonna love you. And fuck anyone who tells you you can’t.”

“I think I’m straight.”

Axel chuckles. “You’ve just never pursued anyone who hasn’t gone after you; just so happens only women have gone after you.”

Mark frowns and sinks lower in his seat, “do you think... not-straight-guys are afraid of me?”

“I think they’re afraid of your frat-boy-fuck-buddies who tease someone for having any sort of human emotions,” Axel says nonchalantly. “I’ve taught you enough about treating people with respect, your friends don’t have the same drive you do.”

Which brings me to my next point

Axel ABSOLUTELY taught Mark about the birds and the bees.

He drove them both around town not long after Mark turned 14, and he parked at their town’s high school and just... talked about sex. What happens, how does it feel, etc..

“You need to listen to her, Mark,” he says sternly. “The minute you hear a “no,” you fucking stop. The minute you hear a ‘I don’t want to,’ you stop. I don’t care if you’re balls deep inside of her, you slip out, tuck yourself away and apologize for making her uncomfortable.”

“But what if-“

“No.”

That’s the basics; like what happens when you have sex, what how to use protection, and the importance of consent. A while later, once Mark starts going to parties, he drives them out again, only this time to talk about when she says “yes.”

“You gotta work her up,” Axel hums, cigarette low on his lips. “Her body will let you know when she’s ready. If you go in dry, you’re going to hurt her.”

“How do I like... do that?”

Axel smirks, “play with her a little. Kiss her nice and slow... let your hands paw and squeeze, let her moan a little, let her purr... I’ve been with a few girls who like being tickled and picked up, some girls like it more rough and playful too, a smack on the ass, a few bites on their neck-“

“How will I know?” Mark squeaks. “If she like... likes what I’m doing.”

Once again, Axel grins, “believe me, Markie boy- you’ll know.”

Sjfhvdgbgh I WANT MORE, MY BOYS🥺🥺

[pettyprocrastination]

queer and feelin longing emotions and thinkin bout shortcake and the harleyyyhhh: when she first sees you shes like 👁👄👁 speechless, How could you possibly get hotter??? ure driving into frankie's driveway because you all are carpooling to meet the guys for a night out. she meets u in a daze at the end of the drive while youre taking the keys out of the ignition.

"i didnt know you owned a motercycle" she says, her face growing warm while u kick out the kickstand.

"oh um, yeah! i do!" you say with a nervous chuckle; your heart always races when youre around shortcake, but you've never seen her look at you Quite like this.

"why do i never see you riding it?" she asks, glancing down every so often as you absent mindedly start fidgeting, rubbing ur hands against the seat and the handle bars.

"ummm, i really only ride it when i need to think on some stuff or when i need to calm down," you explain. "its also really impractical for days i have a certain way i want my hair to look" u chuckle as u unclick the buckle to your helmet and hope, as youre taking it off, that your helmet hair isnt unseemly today.

"is everything okay? have you been on edge lately?" she asks, her brow furrowed. you smile at her but it doesnt quite meet your eyes.

"a little, but i'm working through it" you respond, you grasp the handle bars a little harder, u hadnt meant to let That slip.

shortcake seems unsure but after a moment she reaches out to gently lay her hand atop yours and u loosen ur grasp. "is there anything i can do to help?" she asks softly, kindly. you feel so Seen, so Loved; shes only touching your hand but you can feel the warmth of it through your entire body. "i'll uhhhh i'll let you know?" you leave it open ended, because you dont Think its possible for her to help you with your growing feelings....But you Never Know. the answer seems to appease her, for now at least.

youre together in this moment quietly, contently, a single innocent touch and your gaze at one another are all that connects one another to the present. you hear the front door of the house open and shut, you both suddenly move your hands away; the self depricating thoughts, quickening heart rates, and warm faces are all that you share now.

"hey, nice to see you bringin the ol girl out for a change" frankie says while walking towards the two of you. he raises an eyebrow at you, "you good?"

you nod, "i will be." he nods back, knowing. that sometimes you arent ready to talk about what thoughts ail you.

"oh hey your hair is a little..." he starts, moving his hand up to you head before stopping, "can i uhhh-" "oh yeah sure, thanks" you say, quickly. as frankie messes with your hair, you feel your stomach do flips and shortcake admires how sweet you look together.

he steps back admiring you- his amazing skills as a hair stylist, "better than ever" he says with a grin.

"oh wait hold on, you missed something can i just real quick" shortcake says, searching for consent. you nod you head at her and now she hands taking back stray pieces or smoothing out others. you shiver slightly as she tucks your hair behind your ear? you arent sure she actually moved anything that time. frankie is watching the two of you intently; he loves the careful way she tends to you and the way your eyes flutter shut every so often.

she moves back, and says "there, now we're good" with a soft smile. frankie smiles at her and gives her a quick peck on the cheek, "i love your attention to detail," he says, adoration in his eyes as she giggles.

"thanks," you whisper. you dont want to ruin this moment with your feelings butting in; they are so happy together, you wish so desperately you could make Them that happy.

frankie pats his pockets until he finds and fishes out his keys, "i'll go start the car, you can set your helmet inside the garage if you want?" he offers. "that'd be great thank you," you say, unstraddling the bike and the couple, unbeknownst to the other, watch a tad too intently as you do.

shortcale shakes herself out of slightly inappropriate gaze and decided to walk you up to a garage, "i've never ridden a motercycle before, it seems like fun" she says, just to fill the silence.

you're quiet, comtemplating for a moment. "would you like to?"

she laughs out a breath "oh i would love too. its a shame you dont have a second helmet, we could ride together"

you glance at her and grin a little before turning around to call out, "hey frankie? you still got that helmet i leant u?"

(idk why im writing i Got homework to do and like i keep thinking tumblr is gonna cut me off with a word count or a character limit but No they just let me Keep Going for like AN HOUR, anyways 👄👁👄

Anon I offer you my hand in marriage the dowry is easy: just keep sending me asks (also go do your homework babes!!)

I absolutely LOVE THIS AAAAA

Also the thought of shortcake going for a ride with you hhh. Her arms are tight around your waist and the engine is rumbling in her ears as shes pressed against your back, it makes you grip the handlebars tighter and at a stoplight you have to take a deep breath to calm yourself. She's never ridden a motorcycle before but in the moment, cruising down the road with her arms around you, she feels safe and secure and wants it to last forever.

Frankie walks outside just as you pull up the driveway.

"How was it?"

Shortcake tugs the helmet off with a giggle and he takes in her wild hair. "So much fun! I never knew it'd be so relaxing."

She never knew how nice it felt to have you in her arms.

Frankie ignores the way his heart hammers wildly in his chest by seeing the way shortcake, his girlfriend, stares as you lean on the handlebars of your bike. He sees her flushed face and hears the hitch in her breathe when she looks at you.

He tells himself it's from the weather. It has to be. Theres no way she feels the same way for you as he does. That's just his own mind taunting him with a fantasy.

That's just him being selfish.

"I should probably head out." Your voice breaks them both out of their own head. Both members of the couple you dreamed of each night wearing a face like a kicked puppy.

"Are you sure? You can stay for dinner if you want-"

"We can order takeout and-"

You hold your hands up in an apologetic gesture. "As fun as its be to watch you guys argue over pizza toppings again, I'll have to pass. I've got an early shift tomorrow. I should get home before it's late so I can get some sleep."

The hand that frankie held on his girlfriend's waist tightened as you backed out of the driveway and into the street with a final wave.

He knew you didn't work tomorrow

"Is she gonna be alright?" Shortcake's voice was tiny, barely heard over the roar of your engine as you drove off.

Frankie knew you were going to spend the whole night driving without a destination.

"Yeah." He pressed a comforting kiss to her temple. "She's alright, just needs to clear her head. We all get like that."

He knew at somepoint in the night you'd stop at that one 24-hour dinner you loved, he would probably stay up and meet you there. If you didnt want to talk about what was bothering you that'd be fine. He would simply order himself a burger as the two of you spoke about whatever nonsense came to mind at 3am before leaving, usually with you following him home and crashing on his couch.

You hadn't done that in a long time. He wonders why.

"I worry about her."

Ah. Right. That's why.

Shortcake leaned her head on his shoulder and he felt a steady thrum in his chest.

"Me too."

Maube he would take her with him tonight. She'd like the fries.

[eerythingisshaka]

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Jason Momoa x Reader

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: Bad attitudes/smut

Vroom vrooooom!!

Your eyes squeezed tightly in annoyance before you started to buck your blankets off of your body, punching your bed in aggravation.  Every weekend it’s the same thing: at 7 am your sleep is disrupted by the violent roar of a motorcycle engine.  You just moved in to your new place a month ago and at first you assumed that the disturbance would be temporary.  People work on their vehicles on the weekend, and testing things may require a few loud repetitious sounds. But EVERY weekend?  The two days out of the week you get to be able to sleep without an alarm blaring and you still have to wake like its a work day.

Today was even worse because it sounded like it was right outside your window.  The funk of fumes made you cough while you got up to look out your window.  No one was outside but you put your shoes on anyway.  No way were you taking this lying down.

No shame in your bonnet game, you walked out in your pajama shorts, tank and slippers to survey your surroundings in the parking lot.  You see some guy hunched over a big old looking bike, his back turned to you.

You marched over to him without abandon, building up your month's worth of frustration to fire off at him.

"Hey man!"

The putter of the engine must've drowned out your words so you shouted again.

"Hey! You know what the hell time it is? Some people are tryna sleep!" you said to the back of his messy man bun.

He turned his face to you slowly with a raised eyebrow, looking amused as his eyes settled on your slippers.

You felt self-conscious, taking a step backward and crossing your arms.  "I had to hear you tinkering at this garbage at ungodly hours for a month!"

He reached for the ignition and turns the motorcycle off.  

"It’s not garbage.  It’s vintage."

His voice boomed in the newfound silence, throwing you off your anger rhythm.  He wipes his dirty hands against his well worn jeans as he comes to a standing, towering over you like a giant.  

You felt a wave of vertigo just looking at him but remained on subject.   "Looks old, like it should be thrown away."

He crossed his arms bouncing momentarily on his toes just making him grander.  "Perhaps you have heard of a concept called recycling, refurbishing, or reusing.  Just because something has lost its luster doesnt mean its a pile of junk."

“Well excuse me for liking the finer things in life.  Couldn’t kill you to trade this in for something better and less noisy!  So keep it down in the meantime.”  You walked off in a huff, scraping the soft soles of your slippers across the pavement.

“Nice to meet you too neighbor, the name is Jason!  I could show you how to sew that hole in your shorts too since you like the finer things!”

You stopped suddenly, sticking your butt out to look at the supposed hole.

“Don’t worry.  Looks good.”  His voice dipped into a tone that sounded predatory.  You walked backwards glaring at him  as you made your way back around the corner out of his line of sight.  

You stopped for a second to feel your behind and come across the hole you got roasted on.  You kiss your teeth, feeling yourself get warm with embarrassment.  It didn’t matter to you because sleep clothes aren’t supposed to always be fancy schmancy.  You peeked around the corner and spied on him as he worked.  He had the nerve to talk about anyone with his dusty olive green Henley on with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his large forearms and that geometric tattoo.  You couldn’t care less about his opinion, long as his motor keeps quiet.   The next weekend, you stayed out hella late catching up with friends after work.  Happy hour was popping and you are a sucker for discounted drinks, especially when they are as good as the ones at your favorite bar.  Your Lyft dropped you off in front of your place at 3 AM and you trudged to your front door and catch a glimpse of something in your peripheral as you dug out your keys.  On top of the trash bag there was a note scrawled on a piece of paper that says RECYCLE.

“What the fuck?”  you say out loud and picked up the note, turning it over you see the signature -Neighbor J.   

You balled up the paper.  “Oh you think you run my life now?  Where the hell he get the nerve even coming up to my front door.  He don’t know me, but he will!”  You cursed out the air, practicing what you plan to say to him next time you see him and plotting your next moves.

A few hours later, morning broke and so did your peace.  A loud banging at your door makes your heart race from surprise.  You prayed silently that it’s no police as you bounded toward your door and look through the peephole.  

You jumped back just as fast when you recognize the face, snatching your bonnet off and fingering your curls loose to be more presentable.  You scuttled over to a nearby mirror to check that your shirt had no stains, and shorts no holes.  All looked clear but you didn’t want to open the door in loosely fitted mickey mouse pajama bottoms, changing fast into some boy shorts.

After a quick change, you finally answered the door, to be greeted by his broad back.  He wore a tank top today, mauve pink of all colors, giving a full show to the power he packed in his arms.  Plus his hair was out of its man bun, showing off its waves, looking so touchable.  His jeans and boots looked like the same ones from the last time you saw him.  You chuckle to yourself over his laziness.

He turned to you like a shampoo commercial with his hands on his hips.  “You put your crap on my bike?”

You crossed your arms and leaned on your frame, shrugging.  “No idea what you’re talking about.

He pulls a cardboard box from beside him with empty water bottles and old cereal boxes.  

“You think it’s funny, playing crap Jenga on my property?”

You rolled your eyes.  “It’s not crap, it’s reusable, remember?  Look, I got your note about recycling.  I just wanted to let you know I am way ahead of you.  My contributions are better than that gas you spew in the air from your bike.”

“Single use plastics are one of the biggest contributors to the destruction of earth’s ecosystems.  Why the hell would you waste money on them anyway?  Get a filter and a steel bottle-”

“Please!  Can you stop telling me what to do like I ain’t grown!  I know how sustainability works, that’s why I’m re-cy-cling!  Now if that’s suddenly a bad to do, I’ll Google that, but you ain’t God here.”

His stare read threatening to you, but you weren’t afraid of him trying you.  He seemed to be the type to not be challenged often and you yourself loved a challenge.  Multitasking the stare down, you memorize his facial features from his shaggy facial hair to the break in his eyebrow from an old scar.  

You work your neck for emphasis.  “Are we done here?”

He scoffs, kicking the box toward you before strolling off.  “Stop using single use plastics.”

“Ok, George of the Jungle!”  You taunt, sending him off with a wave.  Closing your door, you laugh out loud, giving a fist pump to the air.  You won this round whether he acknowledges it or not.  Plus you never heard that engine all day afterwards, catching up on your rest.

--

A couple weekends passed and one hungry morning you realize you’re low on food to eat.  You can’t chill on an empty stomach so you get your stuff to head out to your car.  

The sky was cloudy that day, making you yawn involuntarily as you start your engine.  It sputters, trying to turn over, but won’t kick off.  You tried this four or five more times before you sit back, punching your steering wheel.  Of all days for this to happen, today ain’t it.  

Suddenly the roar of a motorbike distracted you in the distance and a horrible thought passes your brain.  Jason knew his way around a motorbike, so a car shouldn’t be too different, right?

You get out the car and stomp towards the other end of the parking lot where you see you neighbor mounting his motorbike.

“Hey!  Hey!”  You yelled out, waving him down.  He saw and you notice his shoulders jump a little as a smile crawls across his face. You weren’t expecting that reaction.

“I’m gonna be outta your hair, I got my girl fixed up and I’m taking her for a spin.  Continue to catch your beauty sleep, doll,” he says sarcastically.

You look at his bike and gave the tire a kick.  "I'm not worried about that.  Glad you got it up and running."

Jason turned off the engine and scratched his beard, coming to a standing.  "What’s going on?"

You shrug, making Jason laugh hard.

"Now I really know something is up.  This is the first time you are speechless AND the last thing you said was nice? What did you do?"

You tried to fight your attitude because you still needed to ask if he could help you.

"I mean, I still think the bike looks rusty and dusty. Can’t tell it from some junkyard scrap but hey, there’s a pulse!"

Jason pointed at you, clicking his tongue. "And a good morning to you as well."  He kicks on his motor again and begins to move.

"Wait wait!" You shouted.

He turns the bike off again. "Sweetheart, I got little patience."

You groan.  "My car won't start.  I was hoping you could give it a look."

“DO I look like a mechanic?”  he asks, leaning forward on his bike.

You stared at him dumbfounded.  “You literally work on this bike all the time!  No one is doing that shit without some experience!”

“A motorcycle is not a car, ma’am,”  he said.  “Apples and oranges.  Hell, their practically fishes and trees!”

“Do you really wanna insult my intelligence?”

Jason held his hands up in the air.  “I don’t have to do anything when it comes to you.  You come with drama and mess in tow, and I’m tired of hearing it, if we’re being honest.”  He got up from his bike, heading in the opposite direction on you.

A raindrop on your face snapped you back to reality and by the time you looked up the clouds opened up their floodgates.

You covered your head.  “Dammit!  Jason!”   

You ran after him as he continued to stomp on to his place.  “There’s a thing called humility and being a good neighbor and something tells me you haven’t learned that before.”  He stops in the middle of his yard whipping around to face you.  His hair soaked in rain yet maintaining its wave intrigued you.  Most people look like a sad dog in the rain, but the wetness amplified his stoic appeal.

“You’re spoiled,” he says, rain falling off his lips as he enunciated.

“I need help!  That’s all I’m asking!”  

“You don’t ask!  You demand!  You demand I be quiet and play childish games when people call you out.”  His voice became more aggressive with demonstrative movement to emphasize his words.

You clasped your hands together.  “Oh!  Well it looks like you’re just used to doing shit YOUR way, and no one had the BALLS to step to you.  Well I am, so what?”  

You step right under his nose, rain from his body drops in your face.  He looked down at you amused.

“You better run along before you do something you can’t take back,” he warns.

“I don’t have regrets, just learned lessons.  So what you got?”

“What I got?”

“Yeah, what-”

His lips crashed into yours with momentum and strength.  His hands gripped your arms a little too tightly, making your hands splay in a shocked manner, unable to move.  His force mixed with the weather conditions made it hard to breathe and your will to do so causes you to push him back with as much strength as you can.

“What the FUCK WAS THAT?!”  You scream, wiping your mouth to no avail.

He stands there frozen, breathing hard.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“Like hell you don’t!  This the shit I’m saying!”  You gawk at him, seeing his shirt cling to his body as the rain weighs down the fabric.  Jason whipped his hair back unapologetically.  

“I told you.  You’re spoiled.  I don’t kiss your ass, so you’re mad.”

“I don’t remember asking you to kiss me at all, did I?”

He shrugs.  “I didn’t ask you to get in my face and threaten me, yet here we are.  Go dry off,” he says, taking himself back to his place and leaving you in the rain.

--

Later that night, you’re in the midst of finishing up twisting your hair  for the night when you hear the familiar sound of an engine blaring.

You check the time, 12:35 AM.  You’re instantly fuming, twirling a mad finger around your last twist end and putting on your robe.  

Stomping outside, you see him clear as day, outlined by the parking lot lights.  Jason sits on his bike revving it over and over as you walked closer and closer.  You get about 30 feet away from him when he turns the bike off.

“You fucking get on my damn nerves.  I’m sick of this!”  You shout at him.  

He got off his bike, standing with his hands in his pockets.  Soon as you were within arms length, you raise your hand and bring it to the back of his neck, pulling him into you.  You were ready this time, opening up to take hi essence in with your own.  Your fingers clutch the roots of his hair, pulling yourself up to him as much as possible until he helped you.  Wrapping his arms around your waist, he doesn’t miss a beat in your mouth as he lifts you to his level and you wrap your arms around his neck.  You bit his lips, groaning into his mouth excitedly.  

“I told you, I step up if you try me.”  you say.

He licks his wounded lips, eyes heavy with anguish.  “And I can take a hit, if necessary.”

You both stumble back to your place, fighting to feel each other’s skin quicker than you could get undressed.  You let your robe fall off at the door.

Your scratch at the bottom of Jason’s shirt, pulling it up as he surrenders his arms to your tugs, shaking his hair loose once you’ve freed him.

He pulled your hair back roughly, exposing your neck to his tongue grazing the pulse point of your neck.  Your nails dig into his hips as you fight the ticklish sensation, making him groan.

“Watch those claws, kitty,”  he warns, taking liberties with your body. The palms of his hands feel rough against your stomach when he traces your curves up to your breasts.  You breathe erratically, feeling the warm arousal build as your nipples greet his fingertips, but you pushed him back roughly.  As he stumbles, he looks at you defensively.

“Am I moving too fast?”  He asks as his chest rises and falls heavily.  You take your shirt off, standing in just your underwear.  He starts to unbutton his pants…

“Stop!  Don’t.”  You command.

He freezes in mid zipper pull, looking frustrated.  “Look if this ain’t happening, just-”

“Did I say nothing is happening?  I told you to stop.  And it would be good if you just listened, for once,”  you say, dropping your voice lower and quieter.  You walked up to him, moving his hand aside, pushing him against the wall.

“You find me attractive, right?”  You ask as your fingers find his zipper and pull it the rest of the way down.

He keeps his poker face as you stare him down.  “I do.  You’re very sexy.”

As he admits this, your palm slides down his stomach and under his waistband.  Under your touch you feel him grow, making your heart skip.

“Not sexy enough.  You still got some growing up to do I see,”  you reply as you pull his bottoms down, letting his dick recoil from its boundaries.  

Jason exhales sharply, bracing his back against the wall.  “You don’t have to.”

You settle down to your knees, observing the specimen before you, gripping his shaft as you look up at him.  “You don’t want me to?”

His hair framing his face, he pulls it back taking a deep breath.  “You got my dick in your hands, and you think I’m backing down now?”

“Then tell me what you want me to do…”  You say quietly, biting your lip as you watch him while stroking him, blowing slowly along his length, lips puckered and tempting.

He reached for the top of your head gently massaging your scalp.  “I want that big mouth to show me what it can do.”

You smirk, letting your tongue flutter around his tip, warming him up.  You feel his scalp massage slow as your lips softly kiss his member.  His head falls backward as you open your mouth wider, swallowing his girth deeper.  You look up at him, massaging his balls. 

“Oh God, you’re amazing.  Your mouth so soft,”  he moans, looking down at you, jutting his hips towards your face minutely.  

You allow your throat to open a bit more, taking hold of his thighs as he pushes himself into your mouth deeper. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.  Just look at you.”  He pulls out of you, bending down to take you in for a kiss.  He tastes himself within your mouth, fully devouring your mouth in a kiss.  You hold his hands against your face as he embraces you, feeling overwhelmed with passion.

“Fuck me, now.”  You growl into his face, getting up.  He pushes you against the wall he once stood, pulling your underwear down to your ankles, you steady your hands on his wide shoulders.  

He stands up looking you deep into your eyes as you reach for his dick, coaxing him to move on, but he grabs your wrists, setting them on his shoulders.  

“You’re too impatient,”  He says, running his finger across your cheek, nuzzling his nose against yours.  

You exhale.  “Damn right I am.  The one thing we can get along about, you’re trying to postpone.”

He chuckles, feeling between your thighs.  “You’re this wet for me?  You like me more than I thought.”

You roll your eyes, closing them when his fingers fit so easily inside of you, digging your nails into his shoulders.  “Maybe I just like the sex.  Thought of that?”

He shrugs.  “Let’s see what fits and talk later.  Your pink looks real good.”  

He grips his hands under you, lifting you and wrapping your legs around his waist in one movement.

As he holds you, you feel for his dick, helping to guide his tip to your entrance.

“Teamwork, right?”  You gasp as he spreads you wider, pushing himself inside of you.  You exclaim, gripping the back of his neck for dear life.

“Did I hurt you?”  He asks.

You shake your head.  “No, keep going.  I want more.”

He obeys, pushing further inside your walls.  

“That’s it baby, deeper.”  You encourage him, you tighten up around him as your body relaxes to the new sensation.

Jason’s hands travel around your back, holding you close as works his length into you, working his hips like it’s his job.

“Ah, your pussy is so good baby.”  Jason moans in your ears.

“This pussy is good to you cuz that dick.  Give it to me, harder.”

Jason rams his length inside you, holding still as you writhe, repeating the action over and over.

“Yes, oh yes,”  you cry out, feeling tears reach the corners of your eyes, feeling a wave of pleasure creep and spread throughout your body.

Jason pounds your deeper, harder as you cry out, digging into his back, he pulls your mouth to his, kissing you passionately.  

“You take me so well.  I knew you were tough.  Keep cumming, I want all of you on me,”  he says.  You cover his mouth.

“Shut up, or I won’t stop,” you feel your body buckle under the pressure.  It became too much.

Jason opens his mouth, sucking two of your fingers as his pace quickens.

“I’m close baby, hang on.”  Jason cautions, gripping your breasts and he rests into the crook of your neck, giving all of himself into you.

His hand moves between your breasts, tracing your sweat with his lips.  He grunts with a guttural tone, “Looks good.”

“Pull…”  you say weakly between breaths, barely able to think straight.  Your body feels like it’s floating away from you as you hit another orgasm before you feel yourself go empty.  You look down to see Jason jacking against your stomach, strips of white paint your belly as he howls in euphoria.

You notice your heartbeat for the first time, pounding in your chest but you felt no stress.  Your mind is hazy as Jason talks but you can’t fully register what he’s saying.  He holds your face, looking concerned as he picks you up to take you to his bedroom lying you down.

You feel a towel on your stomach as you lay on your back, completely checked out of your surroundings.

“Sure, you can spend the night, no problem.”  Jason says half-jokingly as he crawls to the other side of the bed, pulling a blanket over the both of you.  You feel his hands in your hair, gentle massaging your curls as your eyes close.

The next morning, you wake with a fright, feeling this arm laid across your waist like a boa constrictor.  A snore behind your head makes you nearly jump out of bed.

“Good morning, beautiful,” a gruff sounding Jason stretches, kissing your shoulder.

“Whoa, whoa.  Don’t do that,” you say, sitting up and covering yourself in your section of the blanket.

Jason tousles his hair, moving closer to you.  “Oh no?  I can’t initiate this time?”

You push his face back.  “You can’t initiate ever!  This isn’t a back to back thing, so don’t think you got rights to me.  Where are my clothes?”

You see your drawers, robe and shirt by the front door.  “Can you close your eyes as I get my stuff?”

Jason lays back with his hands behind his head.  “Take the blanket.  I don’t mind my body being out.”

You make a face.  “Ew, just close your eyes and turn your head.”  Jason covers his face like he’s getting ready to play Tag.

You gather your panties, slipping them on.

“You don’t have to run off so fast, we were just getting to know each other better.”  JAson says behind his hands.

You talk through your shirt.  “Bullshit.  Don’t make this bigger than it is.”

Jason drops his hands.  “So there’s nothing to discuss?” 

You shrug your robe on, running your fingers over your twists that are now sexed over and slept on as best you could.  “I’ve already forgotten what we are talking about.”

He nods.  “Well I am glad you got function back to your legs.”  He smiles widely.

You groan.  “Happens all the time, you aren’t special.  And take your trash out, smells like shit in here.”

“That’s just sex in the air, sweetheart.”  Jason waves you goodbye as you flip him off, walking out the door.  When you reach your place, you take a deep breath, feeling the aftermath of last night coursing through your body still.  You felt positively sore, like after a good workout.  It replays in your head over and over; his hands on your body, his deep kisses,  his taste.  You shake your head, trying to free your mind.  No way is he taking up any space in your memory.  It’s over and done.  You take the morning to shower off, somewhat thoughtfully.

The next day you got ready for work, feeling better than you had in a while.  Dick was not the reason, so you thought.  You felt all around more positive until your peace became disturbed.

“No, no, no, NO!”  You yell out.  “It’s not even the fucking weekend!”

You pick up your purse, looking for your keys.  You curse yourself for keeping car keys and house keys separate until you remember you are without a working vehicle.

“FUCK!”  You didn’t want to see, you wouldn’t.  You’ll text your job and tell them what’s up and call a car.  Problem solved.  

You get out of your place, locking the door and notice the hood of your car up and Jason sitting in the front seat.

He turns off the engine, closing the hood, leaning on the car as he looked at you.  “Turns out I know cars after all.”

“Am I supposed to say thank you?  For stealing my keys?”  you say with a sour disposition.

He tosses the keys in the air, catching them.  “You left them at my place.  I thought it was an invitation.”

“None of it was an invitation.  Give them to me.”  You walk up to him with your hand out like a three year old.  When he drops them in your hand, he doesn’t let go.

“Say….”

You tighten your lips for what felt like an eternity until you say, “Thanks!”

He lets go with a smile and walks away.  “I swear I was gonna do it regardless, but you had to initiate so…”

“You kissed me first!”  you shout a little too loudly for a neighborhood.

He looks back winking at you.  “And don’t throw something away that’s reusable.”

Masterlist

[thepoet-ry]

I am driving my parents' car back

from getting Wendy's and Jack in the Box

in the same trip. Don't crucify me.

It's 11:11pm make a wish. The dial is tuned

to 89.9 and "Beast of Burden is playing

and the moon doesnt look like it needs money

I am toasty warm in the body of the car,

ice covers the road, pulling me one way

then the other.

Someone's son or brother is sleeping outside

tonight. He very well might die. Is he my uncle

Randy or someone just like me?

But we can't just give him a place to live

because he has to pull himself up by his own

booze bottle or fail and die like an adult.

But you and I have so much more in common

with the silent sleeper than with the man

who doesn't even check his bank statements.

I know I am so much closer to nothing

in my account than I am to a million.

The house draws closer but I feel pulled

away, like that shot in Hitchcock movies

where the camera backs up,

zooming in at the same time.

The moon reflects on everything and I can't help

but see my uncle and my brother on the

ground around every sleeping corner.

I am not a capitalist because I own nothing

that a bank would take as collateral

for a place to call my own.

The police do not defend me because they protect

property and power, not the sleeping battery

of the man laying in the browning snow.

I want to sleep outside the house tonight

to see how it would feel. How cold was the cold-

est you've ever been?

They're really out there, freezing to death

right now, I think as I park the car

in the garage, the dome light coming on

as I remove the key from ignition.

I really would rather live in my car

than work myself to the bone.

The threat of starvation and death is the glue

holding our society together.

It is where the ethic to work comes from.

I sit and think, the moon pouring its light

into the garage. Heater off, the cold creeps

to me. But I don't go inside. Not just yet.

[insane-control-room]

Johan accidentally looks into Duncle's dimension as he, drunk, convinces another drunk person to gift him their car, sits inside of it, and realizes he doesnt know how to drive. i have no idea what jo would do/think but id love to know

Story under the cut, takes place during the concept

ao3 link

Drunk Car

Watching him was sad.

Joey saw many, many things.

He lived many, many lives.

Most of those lives were not his own, many memories comprised of individuals who shared his name, and not much else. Those were the easiest to go through, those many ones that were not his own, but hard to recall, and harder still to find himself.

In a universe without any barriers, nothing protected him from the infinite wills of his infinite forms and being, even though some of them did some rather stupid things. Well, some would be an understatement. It was the vast majority, if not all. That idiocy seemed to be a constant.

And while watching one of his counterparts drunkenly slur arguments as to why someone should just hand him the keys to their car, he tried to weigh where along the line of imbecile this particular version of himself fell, and set him by the “mostly blank void, partially sad” section within his mind where he sorted every bit of information he gained, a library of knowledge on a thousand billion people that may never even know he existed. Well, “existed”, since he in truth did not exist, but merely was in the void beyond.

Watching this absolute bumbling fumbling fool wrangle from another being a new car, brand new at that, both of them flushed with drink and overly loud to his sensitive ears, Joey was not so surprised to see the secondary man concede and hand over a set of keys, mumbling congratulations into his glass, tipping it to the bored looking tender for a refill on whatever numbing substance it was.

God, he could go for one of those.

Maybe fifty. Just to ease the pain of millions of souls screaming and crying at him, tearing at his mind and nonreal body.

He was just along for the ride as the drunken man stumbled out of the bar, whistling through the gap in his teeth, twirling the keys to a practically stolen car on his finger, a bottle of whiskey in his unoccupied hand. He paused, and then went back into the bar to ask the original owner which one was his, both of their words so muddled and congealed, it would take at least fifteen minutes for them to sort it all out.

Joey already knew the answer, and settled himself into the back seat, glancing at himself in the mirrors.

All it takes…

He surged into reality, feeling the leathery fabric of the chair beneath him, the stale air within the car, the bright neon lights battering his eyes, and he smiled slightly, leaning back and waiting.

Is a little bit of hope and willpower.

The other man got into the front seat after fumbling with the door for about a minute or so, having been pushing on it instead of pulling it.

He sat in the driver’s position, the keys in the ignition, before he paused, his hands sliding down the wheel.

“I dunno how to drive,” he said, with such sadness, Joey nearly burst out into what would have been cruel laughter, but the gentle part of him stamped it down before it could rise out from within his aching chest. Duncle stared at the wheel in front of him, motionless, soundless. “Huh.”

“Huh indeed,” Johan remarked. Duncle turned around quickly, best he could while intoxicated and in the front seat of a car that was not his own. “Why, exactly did you do what you did? Perhaps it was for a little fun, a little attention, a little friendship. Who would not want a gift?”

“Uh… uh…” was all the other man managed to say, staring at the tall man with red eyes and pink glasses that seemed to manifest into his new car. “Are you a demon?”

“Close enough,” Johan replied, grinning, revealing sharp canines. “Now, speaking of gifts, hand over that bottle in your hand. You’re drunk enough as is, and if I were you, I’d do it to protect your insides.”

Duncle looked down at the bottle, and then handed it to Johan, frowning a little. “Now what?”

“Out of the front seat,” Johan instructed, getting up himself. How badly he wanted to drain the bottle in his own hand, but he knew he should not, not yet at least, and tucked it into a little place in his hammerspace. As soon as Duncle was in the back, Johan teleported himself into the driver’s seat, and started the car, driving his very drunk other self home, shoving him to bed. “Get some sleep, sober up, and think about what you’ve done, not what others can do.”

Johan then returned to the car, and teleported it back to the bar, returning the keys to the pocket of its true owner. Poor sop, he did not deserve to have what could have been all he had stolen by a drunk idiot. After making sure that the other was sleeping, he dematerialized, even though he desperately wanted to remain as real as he could.

He pulled the bottle of whiskey out of hammerspace, opening it easily, draining all of it.

He threw the bottle against the wall of his office.

Physics stopped working, and it exploded, shards flying everywhere. One cut his hand, and he hissed, sputtering, healing up the cut easily.

He sniffed, giggling quietly.

He was just as pathetic, if not more.

Who was he kidding?

He was definitely worse. At least the other guy had friends, even if he was too stupid to realize it sometimes, that being most of the time. At least he had a world, at least he was able to wrangle a car out of another supremely drunk being.

There was no one for anyone here, only Johan alone, floating in a void of nothingness with not one other soul around to comfort him.

Only the millions of billions of other minds tearing at his own.

He waited for the alcohol to numb him.

That was all he could do.