#and if y’all can’t handle a question about one I know you’re not fact checking them all

[starlooove]

Someone asks “where is this money going and do we have any evidence of it” and suddenly they’re being negative y’all just wanna play at helping ppl without using common sense or listening to the people saying MONEY IS NOT MAKING IT IN! Like. Can we be serious for 5 fucking minutes

#I will say apparently creators clarified it’s not going to Palestine but Palestinian based charities so I’m gonna be looking into that #but ppl just using the filter and saying ‘use this or u support genocide 😍’ and don’t even know how the fuck the filter is helping #like I understand the desperation of wanting to do anything ANYTHING in the face of all this #but y’all A) are being dumb as fuck about it and KNOW it’ll come back to bite you if it turns out to be bullshit #and B) taking the opportunity to gloat 💀 thank you so much for using a filter and donating a few cents to a person who’s word ur taking at #face value. bc lemme remind you these people are calling anyone saying ‘can we get some proof ur doing what u say u are’ NEGATIVE #like if it’s going to charities and individuals who are being impacted and need help or can get some kind of help out to those being impacte #that’s PERFECT #but not only do we NOT know that y’all are using the fact that ur form of revolution is stupidity and half a prayer to feel morally superior #which is sick as fuck to do #anyways #idk if I already said this but I’m not fixing tags but apparently she has evidence that she’s being honest #-the creator of the original filter- #so duh I’ll look into that and see #BTW! there’s more than one filter. this is not a good thing to me sorry #well not that there’s more than one the fact that there’s so many #and if y’all can’t handle a question about one I know you’re not fact checking them all #and unfortunately ppl like to take advantage #and even if they’re not spreading it out across a bunch of filters with no evidence is the same as that person who had a list of shit to #boycott that reached the 30s when BDS already has shit out there #WHICH IS WHAT BOTHERS ME THE MOST #there ARE things you can do orginizations already out there literally saying ‘if ur x age in y financial situation you need to do Z’ #but y’all wanna be katniss everdeen so bad that it’s impossible to handle that ur not the main character or calling the shots #and as ‘noble’ as it is to feel that ur not doing enough sometimes u do all u need to do and u still have time to kill and that sucks. but #going overboard in ways that are only not productive but harmful is so much worse #whatever tho what do I know #at least it’s sweet that ppl WANT to do so much but it’s not always the thought that counts and shit

[wttcsms]

taking inspiration from the recent tiktok trend where people describe couple pairings that are ‘bound to fall in love’, i decided to create a list of 10 of my favorite pairing tropes that i think are bound to fall for each other! the kicker was: i assigned each duo a number + y’all picked a character for the pairing. here are the results! <3

links will be updated as i complete the fics; however, please keep in mind while these may be plot heavy, there is a high chance there’s going to be smut!! read all content warnings before proceeding.

your roots in my dreamland — megumi fushiguro x f!reader

the princess & the knight. as the darling princess and only daughter of the king, a love marriage is out of the question for you. a marriage for you is nothing more than a strategic alliance, and hardly anyone can blame you for trying to run away from the castle the moment you heard that your father has struck a deal and accepted an engagement to a man you have never even met on your behalf. this crown prince rules a kingdom so far away, it’ll take a solid two months minimum to make the journey there. to ensure that you do not escape, your father assigns a knight to escort you the whole way there; partly to keep you safe but mainly to keep you in check. not just any knight will do; he assigns sir megumi fushiguro, the one who landed on the doorsteps of the castle as a young orphaned boy with no traceable family history. dreading this marriage to an unknown man, you’ll do anything in your power to slow down this journey, even if it means starting an all out war with this young knight, who must be someone special if your father trusts him to be your escort. but the longer you’re stuck in the same carriage with him, exploring all these different lands together, you realize that it’s not marriage you’re wholeheartedly opposed to. in fact, marriage with the right person doesn’t seem so disagreeable if it’s with a certain someone...

you’d be like heaven to touch — keigo takami x f!reader

the serious, smart girl & the infamous frat boy. you’ve got it all figured out. you have folders in your laptop detailing your one year, five year, ten year, and even fifteen year plan. you email your professors in advance asking for the syllabus because you can’t handle not having everything neatly organized and color-coded in your physical planner, notion, and excel spreadsheet. you’re the president of your honor society, vp of two other student organizations, treasurer for the student government association, and no one even wants to bother to ask you to go into detail about your volunteer work or internships. you’re focused, you’re driven, and you refuse to get distracted. not when you’re so close to graduating (summa cum laude, obviously). but something doesn’t quite go as planned. ever so meticulous you has never once anticipated that frat president keigo takami would point at you in the campus starbucks and say “there’s my girlfriend right there!” just a quick recap in case you missed it: you’re an accomplished student who has little to no social life thus far. you are certainly not the king of all frat boys’ girlfriend. but apparently, out of desperation to be left alone, keigo decides to tell a girl pursuing him that he has a girlfriend, and you happened to be the poor victim to his spontaneity. you don’t want to go through with it; you’ve got enough on your plate already, and adding fake girlfriend isn’t something to add to your resume. but keigo has some really close connections at a firm you’re looking to work for after graduation, and listen, you can’t deny that this opportunity to network isn’t amazing. besides, sometimes the things you don’t plan for can turn out pretty good in your favor... right?

you save me like this every time — rintarou suna x f!reader

the nurse & the vigilante. you and suna take turns playing hero. or, more accurately, there’s a masked, morally grey “hero” roaming the streets and no one knows their identity. you’re a fresh-out-of-college nurse working shitty hours and with the rise in crime, there’s a rise in patients. the last thing you want to come home to (home being your apartment that is pitifully comparable to that of a shoebox) is more work, but when there’s a guy in a mask currently bleeding out all over your brand new white rug, you find it terribly inconvenient that you took an oath to try to save all lives. 

i don’t want my heart in your hands — kenjirou shirabu x f!reader

the sweet student & the grumpy teacher’s assistant. there’s nothing you wouldn't do to help out others. it’s the whole reason why you’re even in your first year of med school; you’re passionate about your pursuit of helping people and saving lives. but being too eager to help can do more harm than good, especially to yourself. for example, you might be taking a hard class that’s being taught by a notoriously difficult TA who is brutal in grading and probably a narcissist. he might also like to quote the student handbook and explain various times that group chats about the class can be classified as an academic violation. and he might even have screenshots that show you sharing notes and study guides in said group chats. he’s threatening to report you, and you’re getting desperate to not get kicked out of the program. there’s nothing that you can offer him, though. that is, until you happen to hear of his little predicament: his ex-girlfriend (who would even date him in the first place?) sent him a wedding invite; mainly to boast about how well she’s doing and how single and miserable he is. if shirabu is anything, it’s definitely prideful. he can’t decline her invite and let her win, but he can’t show up and admit defeat by being alone. his ego won’t allow him to be embarrassed like that. so, for a weekend, you are shirabu’s totally sweet and lovable girlfriend that absolutely adores him, and shirabu conveniently loses all the screenshots he claims are an academic violation. it’s a good deal. until his ex transfers to your university, and this act might have to go on longer than either of you planned for.

two weeks notice — shouto todoroki x f!reader

the secretary & the ceo. loyal, hardworking, and incredibly intelligent, you’re the secretary for the youngest todoroki son. newly elected as the ceo of his family’s business, shouto has a lot on his plate, and unluckily enough for him, you’re about to add to that when you turn in your two weeks notice. you’ve been with him ever since you were fresh out of college and he was just the little heir fighting for his life in the boardroom. he doesn’t want to see you go, but he understands why you’re leaving, which is why he wants you to accompany him on one last business trip. it’s a short three day long trip, but when his personal security detail inform him that it’s unsafe for him to travel back home safely, the two of you are trapped in a luxury vacation island together for at least a month minimum. and like any good businessman, shouto sees an opportunity in the worst situation; namely, he’s still got a chance to convince you to stay with him.

it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender — koutarou bokuto x f!reader 

the schoolteacher & the firefighter. so, quick life update: your apartment has now been reduced to a pile of ashes and burnt rubble (read: you’re now homeless!); you’re currently living on a meager teacher’s salary because you, for some odd reason, decided to be a good person and wanted to positively influence the next generation (it never pays to be a good person); and your high school boyfriend (and first love... and the love you never really got over, but listen, it’s a work in progress — don’t question why it’s been a work in progress for the past 6 years and counting) is suddenly everywhere you go. the hot firefighter that saved you from your burning apartment? it’s bokuto. the person who’s kind enough to let you stay at their place literally for free until you can find a place of your own? also bokuto. the ex-boyfriend/high school sweetheart/first love you just can’t seem to shake? of course it’s bokuto. you’re just scared that it’s always going to be bokuto. and maybe for him, it’s always going to be you.

savior complex — tetsurou kuroo x f!reader

the next door neighbors. one minute, you’re living the absolute fucking teenage dream, driving to different parties in your custom wrapped, pink porsche (paid for by your father, of course), and the next thing you know, you’re suddenly making headlines as the infamous business mogul’s daughter/young heiress has a wild night out! first off, the photos taken from that night were at a hideously awful angle and everyone there is lucky that you’re too busy having the worst time of your life; otherwise, they would’ve been sent straight to court for having the audacity to release photos of you looking like that. most importantly, though, is that daddy dearest is not too happy with how you’re “ruining the family name”. (because the name is more important than the actual family). so, what does he do? he readjusts the terms of your trust fund — the funds that you were supposed to have access to the moment you turned twenty-one (a date that’s happening in just six more months!), and he calls you into his office to go over the new terms. one: you need to learn to provide for yourself and learn some humility, so it’s time you get — you almost gag every time you have to say the word — a job. two: you have to enroll in college. and three: no more making headlines that will ruin the family’s reputation. if you get a job, graduate from college, and stay on your bestest behavior, you finally receive your fortune that you swear is your birthright. the only problem is that you hate your new job (marketing for japan’s volleyball association — you only got here thanks to dear old dad), you hate your classes, and you might fail at the third condition your father set up because you’re about to go on a murderous rampage. your first victim? tetsurou fucking kuroo. the two of you get off on the worst foot possible, but you find some solace in knowing that just because he’s unavoidable at work, you at least will have some much needed time away from him when you make it to your apartment (the one your dad is forcing you to pay rent for). except, you get locked out of your own apartment, and who is there to witness your meltdown? kuroo. what a way to meet your new neighbor!

halfway happy — tooru oikawa x f!reader

the publicist & the celebrity. behind every charming celebrity is a team that has meticulously orchestrated their every move. for tooru oikawa, his team is spearheaded by none other than you: tokyo’s youngest and brightest publicist, ready to ensure that all news is good news when it’s his name leading the headlines. when fans start pointing out that it’s weird how every relationship he’s been in has failed and that all his exes are either engaged, married, or happily dating someone else for a long period, people are starting to tarnish the golden image you’ve spent years crafting. you know oikawa better than most, but his love life is something he’s never been open about, and you’ve never wanted to cross that line. when rumors about his relationships and supposed commitment issues start gaining actual harmful traction, you know you need to do something to fix this. tooru swears it’s because he’s never found the right time to find “the one”, and as his trusted publicist, you decide to intervene, do damage control, and kill two birds with one stone. you’ll find the perfect dream girl for oikawa, fabricate their relationship just the slightest so they always look happy and in love in the photos, push the narrative that oikawa has always wanted to settle down and has now found the right person for him. he saves his reputation, and you help him find his soulmate. the only issue? he’s pretty sure the person trying to save his reputation is his soulmate.

no more keepin’ score (now i just keep you warm) — kiyoomi sakusa x f!reader

the maneater & the womanizer.  you’re named one of japan’s most beautiful models in the country. he’s one of the hottest bachelors and professional athletes in the country. the two of you together has the potential to be one of the most iconic pairings in all of japan’s pop culture history. the only issue? both of you are too prideful, stubborn, and maybe even a little scared to admit attraction to each other. alternatively: eleven times you and sakusa miss the opportunity to be together, and the one time you two finally let the tension snap. 

like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me — wakatoshi ushijima x f!reader

the underground fighter & the ring girl. it’s bloodier. the rules are looser. the bets are higher. the fighters more unhinged, and the girls holding the cards in the ring are always a sight for sore (and bloody and bruised) eyes. the underground fighting scene in japan is less of a secret and more of a ludicrous business and the best source of entertainment. the fighters here are far more famous than the actual professional boxers, and the money to be made is insane. after an accident in the ring, wakatoshi “the powerhouse” ushijima, is forced to hang up his boxing gloves and step away from the professional sport. he’s still got a lot of fight left in him, and he finds himself turning to underground fighting, quickly rising through the ranks and making a name for himself as one of the most ruthless, formidable opponents in the game. you’re just the unfortunate girl struggling to make ends meet, but when you’re recruited to be one of the ring girls, you can’t walk away from the paycheck they’re promising you. ushijima is known for his steely demeanor; he’s less than human and more monster — at least, he is according to everyone who frequents these fights. he’s never been the type to get distracted, always laser focused on one thing and one thing only: winning the next fight. but the ring girl grimacing in the corner as he knocks out his opponent breaks that strict focus just the slightest. he can't afford any distractions, but you just might be his toughest opponent yet.

#haikyuu x reader #bnha x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #keigo takami x reader #suna rinataro x reader #kenjirou shirabu x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #kotarou bokuto x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #bound to fall in love #fic masterlist

[amaranthine-enihtnarama]

Feel Alright (Goku x Reader)

(it’s going to be more fun that it sounds; manic pixie dream BOY, s3x; crushes, grief, hiding the past; friendships; jealousy; slow burn; “friends”; healing; growing; will-they-won’t-they; tension baby!!!!; canon blender)

taglist: @ilove-evanpeters @moonyscardigans @twinshii @raspberryhaterade @iwenttoshiratorizawa @uselessdoodlesdude @ferneskin @burneraccountant @bellaisasleep @arougeme @aurorarevenclaw1927 @applecandy14 @fingersnapples @langdoncult @loona-thebadchild @anlin2058

TW: Mature content in this chapter! (I’m leaving y’all well fed for thanksgiving) Also a little bit of angst!

If you’d like to join the taglist, click here and add a like!

When Bellatrix moves to the city after a personal tragedy under the wing of her friend Bulma, her life is completely turned around after she leaves everyone—including herself-stunned with the discovery of her own powers. Suddenly she finds herself swept up in a world of aliens, new bizarre planets and training, along with prospects of romance. One problem, though; she can’t leave the past to answer the new life that’s knocking at her door.

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 (((𝖔(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)𝖔)))♡: part one : 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 / part two: 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Inspired by @sevenstarsinning ‘s fic “Sweat”! Go check it out!

part five | home again

“Blood?”

I nodded again, hugging my blanket tighter around me.

“Blood. Like, a period, maybe.”

“But you—“

“Yeah, I know, I know, I’ve never had one,” I said with a slight frown, “I’m freaked the fuck out.”

“You’re not bleeding anymore, are you?”

I shook my head even though I was on the phone.

“Are you?”

“Oh—uh, no. But…that’s not it. I think Goku smelled it.”

“Oh, gross—I don’t actually want to know about how you and Goku fuck.”

“Bulma, we haven’t fucked! He was nowhere near my crotch. He just said he could smell something good, and then his behavior did a total one-eighty. I had to fend him off until whatever happened to him went away!”

She was quiet for a moment. “He didn’t hurt you at all, did he?”

I was taken aback by the question. “Bulma, come on. It’s Goku.”

“Did he?”

I shook my head despite the fact I was on the phone.

“Bels?”

“Oh—uh—no. Of course not. Goku was still very gentle with me, even then. He’s always gentle with me. He’s…always very kind and sweet.”

Bulma’s giggle let me know the tense moment had passed. I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

“Kind and sweet, huh?”

“Bulma,” I warned.

“What? Look, I’m not pushing anything, but Goku’s great. And you like each other! You can’t become some kind of spinster just because your ex was awful—I mean, some new action would probably be good for you!”

“I don’t think Goku’s not great, but…”

I sighed heavily, leaning against the headboard.

“It’s just…being back here, all the memories, all this new stuff…there’s so much changing so fast. I don’t know if I can handle Goku, too.”

“Why not let Goku be new stuff too? Your heart can’t heal if you hold on the past.”

“Bulma, I’m just not ready to go through that again. Things were great with Delilah in the beginning too, and look where that led.”

“Goku’s not—“

I inhaled sharply.

“Look, I know he’s an old friend and you feel you know him inside and out—but love changes people. When you’re heart’s genuinely touched, your fear, your resentment, your old pain, they all come back. We think we know ourselves, and what we would and wouldn’t do, but love changes us down to our very atom; who we are with and without love are two different people. It’s like meeting a whole new person, and I don’t want to meet the other person that’s inside him…or remember the other person inside myself.”

There was silence on her end of the line. I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

“I just…it’s only been what, four, five months now? I’m not ready. Okay?”

“Okay Bels, I hear you. I understand.”

I nodded, slumping. “Thank you. Okay, let’s forget all that—you obviously have a Saiyan situation going on.”

I grinned at the sound of Bulma sighing.

“Yeah, yeah, there kinda is,” she admitted.

“I can hear you smiling, you know—quit trying to act cool, it’s me.”

“Ugh, fine…it’s fucking amazing.”

I laughed as she made a little squeal and shifted around.

“Okay, okay, so basically, he was being an idiot per usual and overdid it in the gravity chamber.”

“Oh, so he’s still an idiot, huh?”

“Since when isn’t Vegeta an idiot?”

With a chuckle, I shook my head, leaving my bedroom and going to the kitchen.

“Okay, so he injured himself, and what happened next?”

“Well, I started finding myself keeping watch over him, and worrying a little about him…he had these nightmares often, so I’d stay while he slept…just, ‘cause…you know…”

I couldn’t help the smile plastered on my face.

“Bulma!”

“Don’t make it weird,” she insisted, “It’s not—“

“Bulma, please, I’ve never heard you talk about a guy like that before! Not even that Yamcha guy you wrote about, and he fucking died.”

“Well the son of a bitch cheated on me,” she said, “Funnily enough, Vegeta—oh.”

I paused from pouring my orange juice, raising a brow.

“Oh?”

“So…I haven’t told you much about Vegeta, have I?”

“Oh, no.”

“No, no, it’s not that—okay, it’s pretty bad.”

***

“Look, all I’m saying is, if I were you, I’d have some qualms about getting involved with a definite war criminal.”

“He’s not—he isn’t a war criminal!”

“Have you made sure?”

“Bels, you don’t get it—Saiyans are a warrior race, they’re all about power and battles and violence. Goku’s an anomaly.”

“No,no, I’ve grasped that; I’m just saying I wouldn’t fuck a crazy person.”

“Oh, he’s not—“

I gave her an incredulous look, and she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess that’s fair.”

“Mhm.”

I shook my head and looked out the window, frowning at the scenery below. The last time I saw, there was ice, then ocean, but now we were flying over lush green hills I didn’t recognize. By my memory, we should’ve reached the city by now.

“Where on earth are we, by the way?”

“Uh—just visiting a friend. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. I think he could help you with your power.”

I tensed. “I told you I didn’t want—“

“Look, if you can’t at least control yourself we’re all gonna fucking die, so just do this for me, okay?!”

My eyes widened as she blurted out her argument, and I was humbled into silence.

“Hmph.”

“Hey, you’ll see! Piccolo’s not as crazy as all of the other guys. You guys might actually get along pretty easy.”

“I’m skeptical.”

She chuckled, turning and landing. I sighed, crossing my arms, hesitantly looking at our destination. It was an interesting looking house; small and white with a round purple window. I could only describe its shape as something akin to a combination of a sea creature and an insect. Bulma parked and hopped out, beckoning me to follow. I hesitantly jumped out and onto the ground, rubbing my neck. I was really tired of meeting all of these new friends. Some tension formed in my shoulder at the sound of a deep voice. Whoever this was, they already seemed disgruntled by our presence.

“Why are you here?”

“Hey, Piccolo! I brought that friend of mine I took you to see that was out for a bit, remember? You said you’d help her focus her ki.”

“Who?”

“Oh you know, the one with all that power? She blew up the testing chamber.”

“You brought her here?! You realize this is where I live, right?”

“Well you didn’t answer your phone—none of you muscle-heads do!”

“Oh, right, that thing. It broke.”

“It what?!”

I winced at the volume of Bulma’s horrified screech as I came up behind her.

“Oh, relax,” I dismissed, “you can replace one lousy phone. You could buy every phone factory on earth if you wanted to.”

I looked at this new friend, and a spark of recognition brought me some ease.

“Oh, right. Piccolo.”

He probably wasn’t as huge as Broly was, but this guy was undeniably a giant. He must’ve been, what, seven feet tall? I sighed.

“Man, I’m tired of feeling short.”

Piccolo measured me up with skepticism, black eyes calculating and sharp.

“So, you’re the Bellatrix I saw in the med bay?”

I wasn’t phased. “Yup.”

I popped my lips, holding his intense stare. His brow furrowed slightly, and I lifted a brow. Bulma glanced between us uneasily.

“What’s this I hear about you being able to help me with my ki?”

He gave a slight smirk. “Oh, you’re up for it? You don’t look the type to be inclined to fight.”

“And you don’t seem the type inclined to offer training,” I shot back, putting my hands in my pockets, “But you’re right. I don’t care about combat, I just want to control my power.”

“Mm. It is volatile, I’d understand wanting to control it. But power like yours demands to be used.”

I frowned at him. “Well, too bad. Should’ve picked a different meat suit. I’m a scientist, not a warrior. Can you help me or not?”

He was quiet for a while, maintaining our staring contest, but then he chuckled turning away.

“Fine. Let’s start now. I’ll get my weighted clothes.”

He went upstairs, and Bulma scoffed.

“He could at least say goodbye.”

She quickly turned to me with a bright smile. “See! Told you you’d get along! I’ll get you later, alright? We’ll go out!”

My eyes widened with slight alarm. “Wait, you’re leaving me alone with this guy?”

“I’ll be back,” she urged, rushing back to the ship.

“What the hell are you running for?!”

“Bye-bye!”

“What—Bulma! What the hell do I even talk to this guy about?!”

I watched her fly away with disbelief, feeling a bit of sweat forming on my forehead. I jumped and whirled around to meet Piccolo’s eyes looking down at me.

“Good, you can sense energy. At least you’re not a complete amateur.”

I gave him a blank look as he brushed past me. “Oh great, another charmer.”

“We don’t need to get along. I’m just teaching you.”

I scoffed, following him. “How do you expect to teach people things if you don’t get along with him?”

“Oh, great, another talker,” he muttered, “Just pay attention.”

We walked silently for what felt like an eternity, until we came across a quiet brook that seemed attached to a lake in the distance. It was surprisingly nice. Under the gentle climate of the day with the pleasant sound of water, I already felt a sense of ease.

“Have a seat,” Piccolo instructed, sitting down by the water.

I did hesitantly, crossing my legs like he did. He didn’t look at me.

“I hear your power skyrockets when your emotions get out of control.”

“Yeah. Like a defense mechanism.”

“I see,” he muttered again, turning his piercing eyes onto me, seeming to observe something in the air around me, “It makes sense; your ki’s terrible. So scattered and volatile.”

I was a little offended even though he was right. He grunted, closing his eyes and looking away.

“I think the best thing to do is focus on grounding your energy, and separating its use from your emotions. I know you don’t consider yourself a fighter, but at least for now, if you don’t train your ki, it’ll become more restless, explosive, and erratic. You need to do something about that anger inside you, too. Combat will help with releasing that frustrated energy inside you.”

I frowned at the water. I really didn’t want to do that. I had no business trying to measure up to these crazy people around me—I could sense their overwhelming power; they could all probably break me in half like a banana. This was all ridiculous, I could figure out my own way—

“And that ruminating needs to end, too.”

I froze up, looking at him in surprise. He was giving me a harsh stare that actually gave me a bit of a scare. Could he hear my thoughts?

“You know, you remind me of another kid I trained. He was meek like you, although he had the excuse of being a child. But he stepped up when the time came, and he tapped into his potential. You have the same potential in you. The only thing that will make this difficult is your desire to make it so.”

I stared at him, mouth slightly agape, brow knitted with arguments wanting to bubble up in defense. He rose a non-existent eyebrow at my dumb expression.

“I…I’m not a fighter,” I said plainly.

To my surprise, he smiled. “Neither is he. Not for a lack of trying, mind you. He’s just not like me or his father.”

My gut sparked at the mentioning of his father. “Father?”

“If it’s returning to a normal life you’re worried about, you can do that too. That kid’s in high school now, and he’d still as much of a nerd as he was when I first met him. I’m not trying to force you to change your life, but your potential shouldn’t be wasted.”

I stared down at the grass that tickled my shins, listening to the water. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared. I know nothing of this life. I didn’t want to jump into this sea of stuff completely blind. I’d spent so much time feeling helpless and confused, it didn’t seem to me that putting myself into more of that was going to help my issues.

“I’m not ready for that,” I admitted.

“You won’t always be ready,” he dismissed with some harshness, “Sometimes life comes at us before we’re ready, and we don’t get the choice to decide when to let it in. All you can do is ride the waves until it becomes easy.”

His words struck me, and I looked at him in surprise.

“Despite what you may think, you have the strength to ride those waves. I can sense it. The only thing making you weak is yourself.”

I picked up a few blades of grass, staring at them in my palm.

“I guess I’ll tell you. If you promise not to tell Bulma.”

“That’s not hard to do.”

“Okay, my brother’s dead.”

He was quiet, but didn’t seem put off by the information, so I continued.

“He died a few months ago in an accident, fighting off some private investigator my ex-girlfriend hired to follow me, and I’m living in the observatory she built me. And now, after getting a sense of emotional solid ground, I look up, and I’m an alien species with superpowers that destroy everything they touch, and everything I’ve believed since I was a kid has been a lie.”

I sighed, wiping off my hand.

“It’s not that I’m weak. I’m just tired. And confused, and scared, and frustrated, and nine-hundred other things. I just want things to be normal again.”

I looked to him again, a little surprised to meet his eyes. “But I don’t want to put the people I love in danger. So if training with you can help me do that, then fine.”

He regarded me quietly with a new glimmer in his eyes, then nodded.

“I can help you do that. I…apologize for misjudging you.”

I smiled a little, nodding in return. “Okay. When do we start?”

He looked at the water, taking a deep breath.

“Close your eyes, and we can start now.”

I did as instructed, frowning a little.

“What’s next?”

“Sit up straight and focus.”

I muttered, a little annoyed by his authoritative tone.

“Okay, bossy…”

After straightening up, I let out an exhale. I didn’t know what he meant by focus; but I didn’t want another demand given to me, so I just focused on the sound of the water. With time and silence, the quiet trickle had filled my ears, along with the gentle rustling of distant leaves and passing breezes. My breath had deepened.

“You’re a natural,” he remarked, voice softened remarkably, “I’m surprised.”

“I did this all the time as a kid. I grew up in a place not dissimilar to this.”

“I see. Well, since you’re focused, let’s try tapping into your ki. You’ve done it before, right?”

The mentioning of it would’ve usually given me an anxious knot in my stomach, but I’d gotten so zen that I just gave an affirmative hum. I thought of the night I blasted Goku through the clouds, remembering separating our hands and the sensation of that aura. I exhaled as warmth grazed my neck, then shoulders, until my entire body had been embraced by the mysterious sensation. It felt calmer this time; I could appreciate the sensation of it buzzing against my skin. I felt like a plant soaking up the sun.

“Good start,” he affirmed, “Now I want you to focus it between your hands.”

I thought of Goku’s kamehameha with a bit of concern. Piccolo seemed to glean what I was thinking, though.

“Nothing crazy, not an attack. Just create a ball of energy in your hands.”

That sounded a little crazy, but I digressed.

I straightened up, clearing my throat, falling back into the creek again. The warmth grew around me and expanded into a little bubble. As I inhaled, it shrunk around me, and with every exhale, it expanded. I got a little fright when I exhaled, and suddenly I could see Piccolo’s sitting figure behind my eyelids observing me.

“That’s good, now focus it.”

The thought of attempting to shrink this giant aura I’d created around us seemed impossible, but I just took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Contract, I told myself as I inhaled, then exhaled, then inhaled again. I managed to shrink to just around me—Piccolo disappeared, although I could acutely sense his energy next to me. I shivered as the warmth left my shoulders and neck, and soon the giant sphere had become the size of a volleyball. There was a light shining against my eyelids that distracted me though.

Trying to ignore it, I contracted the sphere further, feeling the heat mounting beneath my palms as it got smaller and smaller. The light got brighter, too, and my the time I’d managed it into a ball, I was squeezing my eyes shut to block out the light.

“Take a look,” Piccolo said.

I curiously opened my eyes, and stared in marvel at the bright red ball of energy between my hands.

“Woah.”

“That’s your ki. I’m honestly impressed it’s so malleable.”

I widened my hands, willing the ball to grow, then shrink again. It looked like fire—if it didn’t blind you, of course—but it felt nothing like it. It was like night and day from the ki I’d felt when Bulma ran her test: this felt like life force; creation.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“Mm. I want you to keep working on that,” he said, suddenly rising to his feet.

I moved to do the same, but he gave me a look that kept me seated.

“Keep meditating and manipulating your ki. I’ll come back later.”

“”Kay.”

I did as instructed, shutting my eyes and expanding the ball of ki to surround me again. On second thought, Bulma might’ve been right for once; Piccolo wasn’t bad at all compared to the characters I’ve met the past few weeks. One hour with him and I’d become the calmest I’ve been in weeks. As the warmth kissed my skin, I smiled a little. I could sit by this creek forever, listening to it babble. I sighed peacefully.

“Hey, there ya are!”

The alarm of hearing Goku’s voice sent me flying into the air, and the warm ki immediately blasted out of control. Goku let out a yelp as the force of it knocked him out of the air, and we both crashed onto the ground. I let out a groan as a painful ache bloomed throughout my shoulder.

“Agh, shit…”

“Bellatrix! You okay?”

Goku rushed over to me, helping me up to my feet. I sighed, rubbing my shoulder in annoyance.

“I’m fine, it just hurts a little.”

“Heh, sorry about disturbing you. Your energy felt really good there for a moment.”

He rubbed my shoulder, smiling apologetically.

“Goku? What are you doing here?”

I removed Goku’s hand quickly in embarrassment as Piccolo lowered to the ground, approaching us. He gave Goku a reprimanding look.

“I sensed her energy scattering out of nowhere, I thought there was some kind of attack.”

Goku chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry! I just heard from Bulma that Bellatrix was training with you and I wanted to see!”

"She doesn't need the distraction," Piccolo said, eyeing me curiously.

I avoided his gaze with a blush; I could feel my ki blazing wildly inside me as Goku stood next to me.

"What? Bellatrix doesn't mind! Do ya, 'Trix?"

He looked down at me with a smile, and my energy knotted up even more. I looked away.

"Ahem...uh..."

"Goku, go bother Vegeta," Piccolo commanded a bit more firmly, "You're making her energy go haywire."

Goddamn it. I gave Piccolo a dirty look as Goku looked between us in surprise. He looked at me questioningly. I gave an awkward smile.

"Just swing by Bulma's place later."

He nodded, smiled, and flew off. I watched him go for a moment until I realized Piccolo was still there, then I whirled around, fixing my eyes on the ground.

"Go back to meditating," he instructed, turning away.

I let out a sigh of relief. "Sir, yes sir."

He took off as I sat back down on the ground, crossing my legs. I took a deep breath, starting to listen to the water again. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I sighed sharply, rolling my eyes and taking it out.

My eyes widened.

Mom.

***

"You sure you want us to come?"

"She said she wanted to meet my new friends," I muttered, fiddling with the pens on her desk.

"Bulma, I don't like this thing," Goku complained, walking into the lab.

I glanced over briefly, then did a double take in confusion, seeing his new outfit. He wore boots, jeans with a brown belt, a white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. I stared quietly, unable to tear my eyes away.

"Wh--why are you dressed like that? You can wear your gi, you know."

"What? But Bulma said--"

"Bulma said nothing," she suddenly interjected, pushing him out of the room.

She shut the door behind her, giving me a smile. I gave her a confused look.

"What--"

"His gi was filthy," she said quickly.

"Okay..."

"Okay."

My eyes narrowed, but I didn't have the mental resources to be suspicious.

"Mm."

"What?"

I looked at her in confusion. "What?"

"That 'hm', what is that? I'm not doing anything!"

I laughed a little. "You know, you have got to work on being less conspicuous."

"I just want to make him a bit more presentable--"

"Mm, to meet my parents."

"It's not like that," she insisted, putting on some earrings, "Your family is very intelligent and a bit more...sophisticated than Goku."

I snorted, then laughed. "What? My family? C'mon, really?"

She gave me a look in the mirror. "Well, Adam is at least."

"Heh, yea--"

I fell silent, my stomach falling. "Oh."

Bulma paused, turning around to look at me.

"What is it—"

"Bulma, how long do I have to wear this thing? My arms feel like sausages..."

I glanced in a panic between the two as Bulma rolled her eyes, pushing Goku out of the room again.

"Wait. Outside."

She closed the door with an exasperated sigh, going back to the mirror and checking her makeup.

"I'm excited to see everyone," she said brightly, "I haven't heard from them in months, I was worried."

My voice was caught in my throat as I shakily got up. She rummaged through her purse to make sure everything was inside, then slung it over her shoulder, heading for the door. I rushed over before she reached it, grabbing her wrist.

"Bulma."

My intense stare stopped her in her tracks, and she fell silent, frowning.

"Bels?"

I squeezed her wrist, breath trembling. "I...it's...I need to tell you something."

"Well, we're gonna be late--"

"It's Adam."

Her jaw snapped shut and her eyes locked on me. I sighed.

"I'm...really sorry I haven't told you sooner."

"Did something happen? Is he okay?"

"He...he's dead."

Her jaw went slack in disbelief, and I watched the confusion in her eyes as my words processed through her mind.

"What?"

"There was an accident; Delilah sent this P.I. after me and there was a fight, and--"

"Adam's dead?!"

I winced at her raised tone. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I’m…I’m not mad, I…”

She stumbled over to her desk and collapsed into the chair. She stared at her hands.

“It explains a lot, though.”

I watched her sit in silence, then crouched down with a sigh.

“Wait, Delilah sent a P.I. after you? I—what—what happened?”

“You know Delilah, can’t leave me unattended for more than an hour. I sensed I was being watched, and I told Adam. He and the guy got into a tussle, then this motorcycle…and…”

I clapped my hands together, making an explosion sound.

“The ambulance came, but he had no chance.”

“Bels…did you see him die?”

I stared down at my hands.

“I never left his side.”

The ride over to my family home was silent. Bulma gripped the steering controls with a white-knuckle grip, and I sat beside her in silence, hesitant to look at her—if she was crying, I would cry, if she was upset, I would be ashamed. If she had no expression, I would give her one in my mind. Goku was surprisingly quiet; he didn’t ask what had happened, but he could sense the change in everyone’s mood and acted accordingly.

We landed near the farmhouse, and the sight of my parents’ home in the distance, warm and cozy and beckoning, made my stomach twist with anxiety. I didn’t know what to expect or what to do; how to act…I hadn’t visited since Adam had died, I hadn’t talked to any of my siblings or family. With a swallow, I took Goku’s hand as he smiled up at me gently, helping me out and to the ground.

“You’re shaking,” he said with some concern.

“I’ll be fine.”

He nodded, and moved to let go of my hand, but I didn’t let him. We exchanged a look, and he smiled again, squeezing my hand gently.

“You ready, Bels?”

I turned immediately at the sound of Bulma’s voice, and nodded.

“I can’t stay out here all night, anyways.”

She spied our interlocked hands and tilted her head, but didn’t give any outward reaction, turning around and walking ahead. We followed. Goku spoke to me in a hushed voice.

“Is she mad or somethin’?”

“I told her about Adam.

I lagged behind for a moment, leaning over to him.

“Keep this between us, but…she was a little in love with him.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

“I thought it was always just Yamcha…”

“I mean, they never got together, of course, Adam wasn’t…you know.”

“What?”

“Available.”

“What, he had a wife?”

“A boyfriend. Occasionally.”

“Oh…”

I smiled a little. “Yeah. But they were still close…although Adam was close with everyone.”

I watched her solitary figure brush past the dogs that ran up excitedly to greet her.

“She’s family, you know?”

“Yeah.”

I watched her go up to the porch and knock on the door. It opened, and my mother’s arms immediately shot out to embrace her tightly. They swung a little, then Bulma turned around. I hurriedly let go of Goku’s hand once I met my mother’s bespectacled eyes. Her gaze softened, and she smiled. I gave a strained one in return, waving a little. She waved back, gave Bulma a nod, and the two went inside. Goku and I had stopped walking.

I stared at the door quietly, hearing music coming from the windows being carried by the breeze. My legs felt like jelly. Goku eyed me curiously.

“You goin’ in?”

I blinked, looking up at him, then rubbed my chest as my heart pounded against it.

“I don’t…”

I bent over, feeling dizzy, bracing myself on my knees. I felt a bit nauseous. I felt Goku’s hand on my back, then both of then take my shoulders and pull me upright.

“Hey, they’re your family,” he said, pulling me in with his eyes, “They’re not gonna bite. I’m sure they missed you a lot.”

I held onto his hand, trying to take a deep breath.

“But I…if…”

“What?”

“If I go in there, without Adam,” I muttered, “It makes it all real.”

He was quiet. I wanted to lean against him, to feel some solidity; my body was all smoke right now. Goku hummed quietly, then looked into my eyes with a smile.

“Why don’t you show me the farmhouse first?”

I let out a labored breath. “What?”

His smiled faded. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t…”

I placed my hand over my chest, crouching down. Goku moved down to the ground with me, looking with concern.

“You’re not having a heart attack, are you?”

“Just feels like it,” I assured, breath trembling, “I think I’m having a little panic attack, that’s all.”

“Panic attack?”

“I’m just…feeling very scared.”

I looked at him, then averted my eyes in discomfort.

“Just give it a minute…”

Before I could pull away, he took me up in his arms, holding me against his chest. My eyes widened. I froze, but quickly fell slack at the sound of his steady heartbeat.

“You don’t have anything to be scared about. I won’t let you get hurt.”

I crumbled in his embrace, my pants leg soaking up the dew from the grass, inhaling his scent, hands trembling as I timidly grabbed onto his arm. I shut my eyes, feeling myself sinking into him, feeling his calmness, his steady energy, and I felt my own begin to calm down in response.

“That’s it,” he encouraged quietly.

My heart jumped. What was happening?

“Goku,” I whispered.

“It’s alright.”

I took a deep breath, feeling how my body rested in his strong arms. I felt his warmth; I could feel that little sun he shone onto everything around him, and it bathed me in its gentle light. I opened my eyes, staring down at the grass.

“I’m sorry, I keep having meltdowns around you.”

He laughed. “I don’t mind.”

I felt his laugh vibrate in his chest. The claw that gripped mine loosened its hold. I took a full breath.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

He touched my face gently, and to my surprise, the tension in my chest eased a bit more at the feeling.

“I like you,” he said plainly, “Why wouldn’t I be nice?”

I looked up at him, realizing how close we were—with Goku, proximity always seemed to become a very important concept.

“You’re too nice,” I whispered, glancing down at his smile and meeting his eyes again.

He only smiled more, shaking his head.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

He leaned closer, chuckling. I didn’t retreat—I turned my body to him, wanting to take in the smile that glowed in his eyes. He pressed his forehead against mine.

“Nuh-uh.”

I laughed a little, and his smile got bigger.

“Your laugh is pretty,” he said, letting me go as I pulled away.

“You’re too nice,” I reprimanded, “Too nice and too sweet.”

We stood up, and he beamed at me.

“You’re not scared now, right?”

I shook my head, laughing again. He frowned.

“No, I’m not.”

“What’s so funny?”

I couldn’t contain my smile. “Nothing. You hungry?”

“Something’s funny,” he pressed.

We walked to the house, and I looked at him then glanced away.

“What is it?”

I didn’t know what to say. I reached up and pinched his cheek gently. He smiled and did the same in response, making me smile. The sound of barking took my attention away from him as the family dogs bounded up to us, tongues flailing and tails wagging eagerly. I knelt down, embracing them as they knocked me over on the ground, licking my face and sniffing me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“He—Hello you two—oh gosh!”

My cheeks ached as I scratched their heads, struggling to sit up. Goku watched me with a smile, but was quickly overtaken by our giant hounds’ curiosity. He stumbled and chuckled, patting their heads as they circled, sniffed, and nudged him around.

“Woah, hey, hi!”

“Don’t let them bully you,” I warned.

“Oh, I’m sure—woah—“

I grinned as they knocked him on the ground, licking his face too. Goku laughed heartily, trying to shield his face.

“At least they like you.”

“Heh, yeah—hey—“

I whistled, snapping to bring them over to me. “Okay, that’s enough.”

They looked over and trotted over, sitting. I got up and helped Goku to his feet.

“They’re cute,” he said brightly, “And weirdly strong…”

“You should probably wash your face when we get inside.”

I wiped off his shoulder, then clicked my tongue as an amused smile grew on my face again.

“Awe, your jacket’s all covered in fur now. Not very presentable.”

“It’s not?”

“No, not at all. You should probably take it off.”

I nudged him with a playful look as we reached the porch. He grinned back, taking it off and slinging it off of his shoulder. I knocked on the door, looking at Goku again—he’d gotten some fur in his hair. I chuckled, pressing up on my toes and holding onto his shoulder to keep me steady as I plucked them out of his hair. He looked down in pleased confusion.

The door swung open and I was hit with a familiar ‘ooo’. I froze, my cheeks heating up as I turned to look at my older sister. Gita grinned, hazel eyes shining mischievously behind her glasses. She crossed her arms and leaned on the doorframe, glancing between us curiously.

“Well, well, is this why you haven’t come around, Trixie? Got a new boyfriend?”

I rolled my arms, looking away. “He’s not my boyfriend, Gita.”

Her eyes crinkled as she laughed. “Oh, sure, not yet! What’s your name, handsome fella?”

“I’m Goku.”

“Goku. Nice to meetya. I’m Gita, Trixie’s big sister.”

She shook his hand firmly, making her bangles clink against each other.

“Oh, firm grip,” she remarked, taking her hand back and placing both on her hips, “You’re as strong as you look.”

She nodded, patting his shoulder with a smile. “Come on in, food’s almost ready.”

Gita opened the door for us, welcoming Goku in and giving me a wink. I shook my head profusely, but she only chuckled, pinching my cheek.

“Still so shy, huh, lil sis?”

The sound of Bulma’s laugh danced along the walls as music and the aroma of food reached my senses. Gita rubbed my shoulder, and we lingered by the door for a moment as she gave me a meaningful look.

“How are you doing?”

I looked at her, smiling a little. “It’s…not easy.”

She nodded. “I know. It hasn’t been easy for any of us.”

I hummed, looking at the ground. She wrapped her arm around me, then pulled me into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you’re finally here. We’ve all been waiting for ya, kid. No one blames you.”

I slowly hugged her back, inhaling the scent of gardenias that clung to her dark, silky hair, feeling my heart release a little.

“I missed you guys a lot,” I said quietly, “I just, I couldn’t—“

She rubbed my back soothingly, making me fall silent.

“I know. We missed you, too.”

She pulled back, smiling. “You have nothing to explain. Okay?”

I nodded. She cupped my cheek, giving me a hard look.

“I want to hear you agree, Trix.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

She nodded. “Okay. Let’s go. You still have Kuno and Cai left to give you a hard time about your piece of man candy.”

I grumbled as she laughed again, ushering me inside.

“He’s not—“

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you’ve already talked Bulma’s ear off with your friend spiel.”

I blushed. “I don’t—“

“Well, look at you, all grown up.”

I turned to see Kuno eyeing me up, blonde eyebrows raised. A smile played on his lips as he came over to me, uncrossing his arms as I gasped.

“What the fuck did you get so ripped for,” I accused in disbelief.

He laughed, trapping me in a bear hug and picking me up. I fought to breathe but patted him on the back. He’d completely changed from the skinny guy I remembered.

“Hey, I’ve been hitting the gym,” he said, with a shrug, “Not to mention all the heavy lifting at work.”

“What do you do now?”

“Moving company,” he said, picking up a wine glass off of the dining table and passing it to me, earning a dirty look from Gita, “Furniture, boxes, the like.”

“Although, your guy over there’s giving me a run for my money,” he said, nudging me with his elbow.

“He’s not my guy,” I insisted, taking a sip of wine, “If everyone keeps saying that, I’m gonna need this more than Gita.”

He chuckled, patting my shoulder. Cai and Bulma’s laughs rounded the corner into the dining room before they did, cheeks flushed and holding glasses of liquor. I shook my head with a smile.

“God, what is it with this family and alcohol,” I remarked, sipping from the glass as well.

“Nothing wrong with having a good time,” Kuno said, patting my head, “You’ve been gone too long.”

I smiled at him, pushing him lightly and leaving the room. Bulma seemed better, which eased some of the pressure in my chest. A bit of it returned at the sight of my parents and Goku hitting it off in the kitchen, though. My mom caught sight of me first as they all laughed together, and came over to me, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, baby, I’m so glad you’re here.”

She kissed my forehead, hugging me tenderly. I hugged her back.

“Hey, Mom.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good.”

“Mm, you need anything? Bulma taking care of you?”

“I actually moved back to the observatory. Had to call Delilah but she agreed. It’s mine now.”

She smiled and nodded, but her eyes showed concern.

“I don’t like the idea of you being out there in the ice all alone…”

I chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry, I don’t see myself being left alone for a while.”

My father’s laughter caught my attention, and I glanced between him and Goku. Mom pinched my cheek, giving me a smile.

“He’s sweet,” she said, leaning over towards me, “Nice catch.”

“He—“

With a sigh, I smiled back, shoulders slumping a little. Might as well take the compliment at this point. Goku turned and smiled, and I smiled back shyly—he had to have heard that. My father finally saw me around him, and his eyes lit up.

“Oh, Bellatrix! I swear, I didn’t even recognize you, you look so beautiful—oh, come here!”

I gasped for air as my father laughed, squeezing me in an even tighter bear hug than Kuno’s.

“Dad—Dad!”

“Oh, I’ve missed my little starlight so much!”

I blushed as I met Goku’s eyes, seeing his amused smile.

“Dad!”

“God, you’re all skin and bones; let’s get you fed—honey, are we all ready to eat?”

“Dad, I’m dying here,” I gasped out.

Mom laughed. “Yes, I think—oh no!”

Her eyes widened in sudden recollection. “I forgot desert!”

“I think I’m blacking out—“

“Oh no! That’s no good at all! We’ve got dinner all ready to go, though…”

“We can get it,” Goku offered.

Dad turned to him, swinging me along with him.

“Oh, you’d do that for us son? Thanks so much.”

“I’ll go write up a list—keep the food warm, honey!”

Mom rushed off, and Goku gently pried me out of my father’s arms, earning a grateful look from me. He chuckled, leaning down to say something in my ear.

“Little starlight?”

I slapped his shoulder, sputtering in embarrassment as he straightened up and laughed.

“Shut up.”

Mom shoved a list and keys in my hand, along with a wad of cash and ushered us out of the door in a panic.

“And don’t dilly dally, you two!”

I laughed softly as the dogs ran up to us again, sniffing and barking and circling us as we got in the car. I was about to turn the ignition, but gave Goku a look.

“Seatbelt.”

“Oh! Sorry.”

He buckled up, and we were off.

***

Dinner was loud, happy, and plentiful. I sat between Gita and Bulma, laughing, drinking, and laughing some more. There was so much joy in one little room that I felt that it could burst open at any second. Goku, Kuno and my father all bounced off of each other seamlessly, and when Goku was, well, Goku, they only seemed to appreciate it more.

“You’re quite the simple man, Goku,” my father remarked, patting him on the shoulder with a beaming smile, “God, you’re just made of muscle aren’t you? He’s gonna give you a run for your money, Kuno!”

Kuno laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, that is one race I’ll gladly avoid.”

Goku glanced between them with some confusion, but kept smiling nonetheless.

“Heh, thanks!”

I nudged Bulma. “See, they like him, even without the jacket.”

She gave me a look, and I laughed, sipping more wine. My eyes gravitated to the empty seat between Cai and Mom. A steaming plate of food sat there, accompanied by his favorite childhood cup half filled with brandy. I smiled at it bittersweetly. For the first time, his absence didn’t feel so brutal.

“—Eh, Trix?”

I blinked in confusion, realizing everyone was looking at me. Mom looked at me soulfully, a gentle smile formed on her lips. Kuno cleared his throat, and Cai rubbed his shoulder soothingly. I looked around with some shame.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“There’s nothing to feel sorry for honey,” Dad assured, “We all feel it too.”

I looked to Bulma, seeing her staring at the empty chair with misty eyes. I pulled her close and embraced her firmly, placing a kiss on her forehead. She leaned her head against mine, wrapping an arm around my waist. I closed my eyes.

For the first time, it wasn’t just me who felt the pain of his absence, and the world kept spinning despite it.

Cai stood, raising his beer bottle.

“To Adam,” he said, “The only grown man I knew who drank brown liquor out of a superhero cup.”

With a laugh, I raised my glass.

“To the best man I ever knew,” I added.

Kuno rose his. “To the man who never gave up on me.”

Some emotion rose up my throat at his words, and I felt my eyes threaten to water. I smiled.

“Here, here.”

Kuno nodded at me soberly, still managing a smile on his face.

Everyone raised their glasses and cups in silence for a moment, until my father spoke.

“To have lost a man like him is something no one could ever recover from,” he said, looking down at his plate wistfully, “But he’s with us all. Each of us carry a piece of his love in our hearts, and for that we should all keep smiling.”

Mom hummed in affirmation. “Mm, yes. He’d want us to be smiling.”

Bulma sniffed, and I felt some droplets fall onto my chest. I stroked her hair, and Dad came over to take her hand.

The superhero cup of brandy knocked over.

I froze, looking in shock. Everyone’s attention snapped to the spilling brandy, the rolling cup that gradually stilled, and the wind billowing through curtains that covered a window that definitely hadn’t been open before.

I smiled, feeling my eyes growing misty.

“I think he wants us to stop being so down in the dumps,” I said quietly, “Typical.”

I could feel him. I could remember him. The smiling big brother I’d known and loved. Somehow the blood had become a forgotten dream.

***

“Okay, okay, let me just—“

I giggled as I fumbled for the light switch and Goku clung to me, half holding me steady and half gluing himself to my body.

“Goku!”

“What,” he whined.

“Someone’s gonna see,” I insisted, still laughing at the feeling of him nuzzling my shoulder, “Hey, that tickles!”

“Everyone’s outside, no one’s g’na see,” he muttered, “They all know, anyways…”

“Know what?”

He laughed, holding me tighter. I finally flicked on the light switch and we stumbled inside my old bedroom, Goku shutting the door behind him as I opened the window. I sighed, turning around to see him creeping around my childhood telescope and squeaked, moving him away.

“Be careful!”

“I’m not gonna break it,” he said, smiling.

I giggled as I guided him to the bed, and we both collapsed with a groan.

“God, my family can drink…”

“I see where you get it from,” he said.

I laughed. “Oh please, I tapped out after three glasses of wine.”

Goku stared at me as my laughter slowly faded, and I held his gaze. I frowned in confusion.

“What?”

He moved closer, swallowing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, “So beautiful and so smart and funny…”

I giggled nervously. “Thanks, I guess.”

“I mean it,” he said.

“Okay.”

“No…it’s not okay.”

His eyebrows creased, and he touched my face.

“It’s not okay…”

My drunkenness wore off slightly as Goku’s thumb stroked my cheek repeatedly while I stared into his eyes. The room was still spinning around us, but I was stilled by his gaze. I took his hand in mine, moving closer to him. The space remaining between us felt so vast—how were we going to bridge it? I shut my eyes, placing his hand on my chest. Goku inhaled sharply.

“Feel that,” I asked.

“Feel—feel what?”

“How steady my heart is. My heartbeat.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s what you do to me.”

He fell silent. I pressed his hand closer.

“No one else makes me feel this except you.”

I opened my eyes, holding his gaze. “…No one else is like you, Goku.”

With some uncertainty I reached out and touched his face, feeling my hand tremble slightly as my palm cupped his cheek. I smiled at the feeling of him, of the warmth, of his presence. Maybe it was the alcohol, but in this moment, I didn’t want him to leave my side ever again.

“You’re too sweet,” I said, tracing his jaw with my fingertip, “Too sweet.”

His voice asked a soft question. “Bellatrix?”

I almost wanted to touch his mouth, to feel his voice passing through his lips. I sighed.

“Shit Goku, what did you do to me?”

“What? I didn’t do anything. At least…I don’t think…”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Oh, you did something, alright. You’re doing it right now.”

“I am?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not very convincing when you act coy, Goku.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer—the vastness that seemed so daunting was shattered in mere seconds.

“I like you,” he said, brushing his nose against mine, “I like you a lot.”

I grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

“No, I really like you.”

“I know.”

“Like…like Chichi…”

I laughed again. “Goku, I think we’re a bit drunk.”

“N-no, did you hear me? I like you.”

“I heard you,” I assured softly.

He smiled, gently taking my chin. “Do ya like me?”

I hesitated despite myself. I let out a sigh as Goku waited for me to answer with increasing unease. The words I’d been holding back spilled out.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared?”

“I like you, Goku, but I’m scared.”

I took the hand that held my chin, timidly brushing my lips against it, shutting my eyes.

“If I lost you too…”

My breath trembled as I pressed my lips against his knuckles.

“My heart would break all over again, and I don’t know if I’d survive it.”

“I’m not like her,” he whispered.

I smiled, placing his hand on my waist and pulling him closer, pressing my face into the crook of his neck, pressing my lips against his pulse, losing myself in him.

“You always smell so nice,” I said.

“‘Trix,” he insisted, “I’m not like her.”

“You’re not like anybody, Goku.”

I pulled away from his neck and looked at him again.

“People like you, like my brother…you can’t be replaced. You know that, right? It always leaves a hole when you’re gone, and it won’t get filled again because there’s no one like you that can heal it.”

I looked down at his lips. I finally touched them, caressing them with the pad of my thumb.

“If I fell in love with you…and I lost you…”

His hold around me tightened.

“I won’t ever leave you.”

“I didn’t say leave,” I corrected with a chuckle, “I said lost.”

His brow furrowed, and I rubbed the wrinkles until it relaxed. He let out a sigh, shutting his eyes.

“Of course you wouldn’t leave. People like you don’t leave. People like you are taken away.”

“I won’t get taken.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t.”

I pulled back slightly, looking him square in the eye.

“You died before, right? While you were with Chichi? Your son? How do you think it felt for them when you were taken away?”

“I…I know it wasn’t easy—“

“Easy? Look at how I’ve been without Adam.”

I poked his temple with a chuckle. “I want you to hear me. Get these words into that Saiyan brain of yours.”

He looked at my mouth intently, making me grin.

“When you die, the people you love die with you. When you go off doing amazing things, the people you love are left behind, aching for you. Us normal people aren’t as strong as you are, we can’t hang on and keep up with your story. We don’t want a story. We want a simple life. We want to be happy, do good work, and have peace and love���and we want to love you.”

There was pregnant silence until he smiled.

He took my face in his hands, eyes twinkling. “You want to love me?”

I sighed sharply. “Did you hear a single word I said?”

“Yeah, I did. But…you want to love me?”

He grazed my lips and my jaw with his knuckles, and, feeling the slight callous formed, I pressed my lips against it.

“I don’t think I have a choice at this point. It’s going to happen…I can feel it. I’m going to fall in love with you. And I’m scared. You’re—you’re so beautiful and…I can’t—”

I sighed, trying to gather my thoughts. “I can’t lose you, too.”

“You won’t,” he assured firmly.

I smiled. “Goku…you can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can. I won’t.”

There was a fire in his eyes that shook me. I bit my lip, then let out a sigh.

“I can’t lose you, either.”

I looked up at him in surprise.

“You’re all I can think about sometimes. You always make me feel so great and so happy. I didn’t think it was possible to feel that way about someone else besides Chichi.”

He pressed his forehead against mine, lips ghosting over mine as he let out a shaky breath.

“I really messed up with her…I can’t mess up with you, too.”

“Goku…”

For some reason, the thought of kissing him actually dawned on me for the first time. I pressed my hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to do this again.”

The possibility of his lips was so close. It made me feel hasty. Thirsty. Anxious. Goku felt it too, I could tell. He swallowed nervously.

“That’s okay. I never feel ready to do anything.”

I laughed. “You’re too sweet, Goku.”

I could feel the feverish urge building between us.

“You’re…perfect,” he breathed.

I shook my head. “No one’s perfect. It’s a good thing.”

“Bellatrix…”

“Yeah?”

“I need to kiss you.”

“I know.”

“Right now.”

“I know.”

We were silent. I stared at his mouth. He waited for me eagerly—always so gentle, so careful with me. I needed him, I knew it. I blinked, trying to keep whatever wits I had left about me.

“We can’t go back to how we are now, if…if we do that.”

“I don’t want to.”

Oh, god.

He licked his lips, clearly struggling to contain himself.

“I need you, ‘Trix…I can’t fight it anymore. I need you.”

His words echoed in my mind. I need you.

My eyebrows creased. I swallowed.

“I—“

He inched closer, hand inching down my waist to my hip. I leaned towards him.

“I need you too.”

His hand took hold of my hip firmly, pulling my body against his. My leg passed over his hips, and the bed creaked as my knees sunk into the mattress. My face was flushed—here I was, straddling the man I swore up and down I wasn’t going to give in to. I stared down at his face, his shining eyes, his slight smile, his tousled hair from the fun of the night; it as all so beautiful.

His hands clung to my hips, teasing the possibility of embarking to the bare skin under my shirt. I leaned down, cupping his cheek, pressing a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. His hands twitched and held onto me tighter. With a smile I leaned up and he followed, seeking to return the kiss. I placed another on his cheek, coaxing him to sit up fully and resting on his lap. Goku laughed breathlessly. I stared at his curved, laughing mouth and slung my arms over his shoulders, pressing my weight onto him and tilted my head.

“Are you sure,” I whispered.

“Please,” he muttered, brushing his lips against mine, “Come here already.”

I laughed softly at the cracks in his restraint.

“I don’t want to make a mistake for us,” I said, “We need to decide.”

He took my face in his hands, smiling. “I want you, Bellatrix.”

I smiled back, nodding. “Okay. I want you, too.”

His eyes crinkled as his smile grew. “Good.”

Goku’s focus quickly shifted to the matter of most importance though, and his hands roamed my body with newfound confidence.

“Now come here.”

Our breaths trembled as our lips finally met. He pressed his tongue into my mouth sharply and I softened his advance by making mine supple against his, taking a gentle hold of his face. He had so much friction in his energy now that he had been given the okay it made me wonder how long he’d been holding himself back—was it the first time we met?

It didn’t take much time for him to follow my lead and be more gentle with me. We moved further onto the bed soon after, unable to part our lips for even a moment. The bed creaked under our aimless movement as I eased onto my back and pulled him on top of me by his shirt, managing a smile and to pull myself away for a second.

“Bulma was…was diabolical to put you in these,” I said with a chuckle.

He quickly took my lips with his again, then smiled against my mouth.

“You like it?”

I tucked my fingers around his belt and tugged his hips further down between my legs and grinned.

“I fuckin’ love it.”

I shot up and kissed him a bit more passionately, my eyebrows furrowing. Goku moaned slightly, and I bit his lower lip, making him yelp a little in surprise and break his lips from mine.

“What was that for?”

I frowned, my mind starting to get clouded with lust. “Huh?”

“You bit me…did I do something wrong?”

“What?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Oh, shit, no, no, sorry, I should’ve asked if you liked that or not—“

“I do, I just didn’t know if—“

“Fuck, I’m sorry to cut you off, I just—“

I sighed desperately as I stole another kiss, gripping his jeans tighter as Goku sensed I’d changed somehow and kissed me harder, pressing himself against me. I felt how hard he was and my head spun—I was dangerously close to forgetting we were technically in my family home on the loudest mattress on earth.

“We should—we should be smart,” I muttered thoughtlessly between kisses, “Someone’ll hear the bed if we fucked right now.”

“But I want to fuck you now,” he complained a little, kisses starting to stray from my mouth, “I can smell you, how am I supposed to control myself when I can smell how ready your pussy is for me?”

I blushed as his sudden crassness, but it made me want him more. I laughed breathlessly, aching at the feeling of his hard cock against pressed against my clit through my jeans. He pressed a little harder and I grazed my nails over his arm, feeling a wave of heat pass through my whole body. He chuckled, capturing my parted lips and biting my lower lip in return.

“See?”

I was already unbuttoning my pants. He grinned, unzipping them, tracing the waistband of my underwear with his fingertips.

“Fuck, Goku, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“It’s okay,” he assured, voice growing husky, “I won’t fuck you if you don’t want it. I just…”

My brain didn’t even process what he’d done until Goku had tossed my pants to the floor and lowered my hips against the mattress again. Not one squeak, and he’d gotten my pants off already. I gasped as I felt his thumb swipe over my clit, then rub it gently. I bit my lip, grabbing onto his shoulder.

“Goku,” I whimpered quietly.

“I just need to taste you, that’s all.”

His voice had completely changed. His entire demeanor had changed; he sounded deathly serious. I could imagine this is how he was in a fight—composed, focused, precise, and absolutely ruining his opponent.

He pulled my underwear apart without much effort, and his breath audibly stilted at the sight of my soaked cunt. I could only hope one of us could keep from going over the edge.

He leaned down over me again, kissing me hungrily, prompting me to respond eagerly in kind.

“Can I feel you,” he asked breathlessly.

I had absolutely no idea what he meant by that, and no intention of turning him down.

“God, please, yes.”

The bed gave the slightest creak as he carefully pushed my legs farther apart and kissed down my body, pushing my shirt up to plant kisses all over my chest and abdomen, then sink his teeth into one of my hips, making me moan softly and grip his hair. His fingers gripped my thighs as his mouth found my pussy, and with a quiet grunt, slid his tongue inside of me, then ran it over my clit as one of his hands released me.

I had a brutal grip on his hair as his tongue continued to work its magic on my clit—it was taking everything in me to keep myself still, to keep my hips in place, to not cry out his name as he sucked on my clit, making my head fall against the pillow. My chest was heaving.

“Goku,” I gasped, “This—is not careful—!”

He slid his fingers inside of me and I was completely his.

“Fuck, don’t stop…”

He didn’t smile, he just kept devouring and fucking my pussy with his diabolical tongue and big, strong fingers. I grabbed onto the headboard with my other hand, trying desperately to keep my hips still as he planted kisses on my inner thigh as I started to clench around him. I could hear the way I was gushing around his fingers as he thrusted them in and out.

“That’s it,” he whispered against my skin, “C’mon, ‘Trix…”

I couldn’t speak a word, only crush the headboard under my grip as his mouth went back to my cunt, sending me over the edge, when—

I froze as Goku slid his fingers out, breathing almost as heavily as me. He pulled back and sat up, the moonlight shining down on his dark eyes as he put the two glistening fingers in his mouth, holding my gaze until he groaned, shutting his eyes. I was completely disoriented at this point as my body burned for release. His eyes opened again as he slid his fingers out of his mouth, grinning down at me.

“It’s just as good as I thought it would be.”

As I slowly started to realize he wasn’t going to give me the release I needed so badly, I put a hand on my forehead and laughed softly.

“Oh, you evil son-of-a-bitch,” I said, letting my legs fall to the side. “Thank fucking god.”

He chuckled as I sat up, looking him up and down and giving him a little glare.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Well, you definitely weren’t going to stop anytime soon.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. “And whose fault was that?”

He only gave me a big smile. I planted a kiss on his cheek, getting off of the bed and feeling around for my pants on the ground. When I found them, I tossed aside my torn underwear and put them back on.

“Where did my glasses go,” I whispered, “Are they on the bed somewhere?”

Goku handed me them as he stood, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. I put on my glasses as I laughed softly.

“This is probably the only time I’m gonna ask for this, but can you instant transmission me to the observatory?”

“Can I stay the night?”

“Maybe if you’d let me come just now, but I don’t feel so generous anymore.”

“Awe, why not?”

I smiled up at him as he put his fingers to his forehead, and we disappeared from the dark, quiet bedroom.

***

“Rise and shine, boss.”

I inhaled sharply as the blinds automatically opened, and my bedroom filled with the cool, muted sunlight of an arctic morning. The lights turned on after and I groaned, turning to shield my eyes in Goku’s chest.

I paused, tensing up. Goku’s chest?

My eyes went from the white t-shirt to Goku’s peaceful face, and my brain spun. What…what was he doing in my observatory, in my bed? I tried to sit up, but he groaned in protest, holding me tighter—holy fuck, I’d been asleep in his arms. I racked my memory of the night before desperately—what could’ve happened to warrant waking up like this? We were clothed, but I didn’t have underwear on, which was concerning since I recalled going to a family dinner.

He nuzzled my neck, and it all came flooding back like an avalanche—the drinking, the smiles, the way his fingers felt inside me, the way I pulled his arms tighter around me was we fell asleep on the bed. I looked back at his face, his lips, and sighed quietly. Life happens, whether you’re ready or not.

I placed a gentle kiss on his lips to wake him up, smiling as he frowned, groaning again.

“Get up, you big goof,” I teased, “Or do you not want breakfast?”

His eyes slowly opened and he squinted down at me.

“…Bellatrix?”

My stomach flipped at the confusion in his eyes.

I sure as fuck am not ready.

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[starwritesstuff]

one shot Leon x reader

rating: explicit‼️‼️‼️ so explicit. i am going 2 hell y’all. tw: guns, gun play. it’s safe tho, no bullets, no threat

word count: uhhh somewhere in the 3.5k range

obligatory no minors or i’m drop kicking ur asses

•—•—•—•—•—•

Occasionally you get to work with Leon S. Kennedy. Occasionally. He’s normally a solo op- something he enjoys spitting through clenched teeth at anyone who suggests he take a team, or a partner. Occasionally, Leon doesn’t get what he wants. 

For you, it just means hours long missions that are filled with irritated little grunts, tersely snapped commands, and little else. It’s alright. Government agencies, terrorist cells, etc, etc. There are worse things than working with a petulant child of a partner. 

The one good thing about working with Kennedy, you suppose, is watching him handle his guns. God is that man good with his guns. The quickness, the gracefulness of which he’s able to point, shoot, reload. You could wax poetic. In fact, sitting here with him, currently watching him check his chamber, you just might. Wax poetic, that is. 

You watch him turn the gun over in his hands- dirt caked under his nails and god knows what else- perform that stupid, stupid one handed press check. It’s showing off, you think, it has to be. That’s a dumb skill to learn. Yeah, yeah good for when you need to wield two guns at once but Christ. It’s not like that’s happening right now. 

Leon glances up, catches you staring. His brows pull low over his nose, knit close together. 

“You look downright pouty, Kennedy, what’s wrong?” You say, uncrossing your legs. Wincing a bit as blood flow rushes back, pinpricks tingling down your calves. He slides his eyes back over to his gun. Shifts its weight in his gloved hand. 

“Haven’t heard shit. Why haven’t we heard shit?” He mutters quietly. It’s a good question- the intel you received was that BOWs had been a heavy presence in this particular village. Remnants of Los Illuminados. Loathe to send Leon back in by himself, DSO had sent you in with him. Better weapons, too. You pat your H&K P8, settled in your holster. 

You shift around some more, boots creaking, sounding like bullets in the quiet of the basement. 

“You’re gonna jinx it. Can’t talk about that shit on an op like this.” You settle for joking, though you’re just about as uneasy as he is. Leon cuts his gaze over to the left- where the door is. You follow the movement, shake your head at him. 

“Wait. We can’t go anywhere yet. You know that, wait for base command.” It’s a weak excuse, as reasons go. Base command rarely ever knew more than whoever was on the mission. 

Leon snorts. But he stays where he is. Pulls out a different gun, his beloved Matilda. You’ve gotta admit- the damn thing looked near brand new, despite being one of his first guns. Thunks his head against the wall he’s sitting up against. 

This was maybe your third, fourth mission with him. You get picked often because you don’t rise to his bait. Calm and steadfast, you’re one of the few that can play well with Leon Kennedy. Mostly. And you’re knowledgeable, an encyclopedia practically. Your background in combat medicine, and not to mention medical sciences, gives you an edge over most environments, able to find, forage and mix together healing plants, to know your surroundings. 

You watch him take apart his gun. Watch those nimble fingers fly over the parts and components and put it back together again. Watch him take a light, two fingered grip on the muzzle. Slide, clink, release. You thunk your own head against the wall. 

See- the problem isn’t so much that Leon is annoying, ill-tempered, aggravating. It’s that he’s unnervingly attractive. You could deal with his bad attitude if you didn’t often find yourself fantasizing about his rough jeans against your bare legs. A glove covered hand over your mouth. 

You turn your head away, press your hot cheek against the cool concrete of the wall. Thank god for dim lighting because you know under your freckles, there’s a traitorous blush. Always with the blushing. To add insult, your ears flame, too. 

“You don’t look so good over there.” Calls Leon from across the room. You resolutely don’t look at him. Grapple for that calm you’re supposed to be known for. 

“Just getting anxious.” Your voice comes out a little more warbled than you would have liked but hey- you sound relatively stout. You think. 

You hear another snort. Chance a glance over. Leon isn’t looking at you, still fucking with his gun. Christ. Has it always been this hot? Your thermal feels a little tight, itching at your neck where the collar of the mock neck sits. You curl your hands into fists on your lap. Refuse to pull a cliche move like tugging your collar. 

You hear a little clattering. Leon is fucking with his chamber again. Spitting the bullets out. Another slide, clink, release. 

“You might need those, you know.” At your voice, Leon looks up. You’re not sure if it’s the low lighting, but you swear you see something… wolfish flit in and out of his gaze. He shrugs easily. Jingles the bullets in his hand. 

“At the moment, likely not. Haven’t heard anything, comms are silent. Shit I’d say this is almost a break.” His lips quirk up in a little grin. You shake your head again. Pull your hair out from its braid. Suppressing a relieved sigh, you massage your scalp. One of these days you’ll choose a less punishing hairstyle. 

You’ve taken off most of your combat gear, favoring the BDUs and your thermal for the heat. Leon’s right- neither of you are going anywhere any time soon. You idly wonder if he’ll call the mission. 

You don’t hear steps, but you do see black boots stop in your field of vision from where you’re looking down, engrossed in rubbing the sore muscles in your neck. 

“Fuck Leon, ever heard of making at least a little noise?” He plops down next to you. Close. You can feel his body heat. 

“Good to know I’ve still got it.” He pulls himself into a casual slouch, turns his body to face you. Holding Matilda, index finger pressed along the underside of the muzzle. 

“Should keep your hair up. Long hair like that is easy to grab for an enemy.” He sounds a lot closer than he feels. You throw an elbow. Connect with his hand- damned fingerless gloves you were just thinking about. 

What is it about that that just… does you in? 

“Shut up, you said it yourself. We’re stuck here for a bit. If you can empty your gun, I can get a few moments reprieve from an ugly hairstyle.” You retort. It’s probably the warmth, his proximity, the fact that you’re sexually repressed and haven’t gotten laid in more months than you’d like to admit, but your patience was scraping raw. 

He whistles, low. “Bug up your ass?” You side eye him. “Hardly.” 

He swings Matilda on his finger. You try not to watch. You don’t think you do a very good job, though. Because he grins- and it’s a sharp thing. Makes your breath catch, just a little. 

He looks at you like maybe he heard it. 

He probably did.

That sharp grin widens. You feel… a bit like prey. What you imagine prey might feel like, anyways. In the low light, Leon’s eyes look nearly black, swallowed whole by his pupils. 

You lick your lips, point of your tongue darting out to sweep over your top lip. 

You’re a little over aware of everything, the gentle shwick-swing of the pistol, the heat coming off him, the sound of your own mouth when you dampen your lips. 

Could cut the air, you think. The tension.

You can see a distorted version of yourself in his eyes, wild eyed, spots high on your cheeks. Mouth spit-slick, slightly parted. You clamp your lips together, pressing them together hard. Try to look a little less fucked out- despite not even having been touched. 

“It’s a good thing you aren’t a spy.” Leon’s voice comes out grating, gravelly. “You’d make a shit spy.” 

His hand comes up, tangles itself in your recently freed hair. He drags your head back, over to him. He slants his pretty lips over yours, chastely almost. Before licking at your lips. Your breath puffs out; you immediately open up for him. He licks hot into your mouth, an easy, silken glide of his tongue over yours. Lazy. Languorous. 

A hand insinuates itself between the two of you, deftly unbuckles holster, belt, pants. Boom, boom, boom. Easy. Practiced. 

You feel cool metal slide up your cheek- he backs away from the kiss, presses the muzzle of that gun, fucking Matilda, against your lips. Still parted. Clacking against your front teeth. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you can’t hide for shit.” He grins his sharp grin again. 

“Leon-” is all you can really get out because he’s taken advantage of the way your mouth opens on his name. Pushes his gun, quickly, through the space between your lips. Fits it snugly behind your teeth. You taste steel. God, you think it’s steel. Is it titanium? Does it matter? 

“If I stuck my hand in those pants, what’ll I find?” You can’t answer him, he knows you can’t answer him. You can only stare. Hope you don’t start drooling. 

It’s fine, he’s not looking for an answer. Not a verbal one, anyways. 

He’s still got you pinned, back against the wall, legs splayed out in front of you. Leather and skin working, shoving past your loose pants. He smirks, you didn’t think that was a real thing- people smirking- but he does it. Glides a finger over slick, swollen skin. 

The metal in your mouth has warmed from you panting around it. 

“Every time I caught you looking at me I swear I wanted to bend you like a lawn chair” he rumbles, “and I don’t mean just this time. I mean every time I’ve worked with you.” 

Your heart gets stuck mid pump. Desperately tries to restart itself. 

“Every little furtive glance. And now look at you- drooling over my gun. Want it that bad, do you?” And you were, you did. A thin line of drool had dribbled down your chin. 

Your hands remain where they were- fisted tightly on either side of your hips. You could reach up, knock his hand down. But you won’t. 

Leon slides the muzzle slickly over your tongue, pushing it just a bit further in. 

“You be good and hold that for me, would you? Don’t. Drop. It.” Shoves it till your lips touch the trigger guard. You swallow hard, tilt your head back to let gravity help you. 

Both hands free now, he jerks your BDUs off, down your legs. Tangles them in your boots until he successfully gets those off, too. You whimper, a real whimper, when fresh air hits your soaking cunt. Close your eyes and clamp down hard on the gun in your mouth. 

Leon drags a hand up from your waist, belly, sternum. To your mouth and with a whispered, arrogant thanks he jerks it out, bits of metal sharply hitting your teeth. 

You decide that whatever energy you have, you won’t use it on lifting your head. You opt for surveying him through heavy lids, lashes down. Trying to remember how to breathe. 

He’s knelt between your obscenely spread legs, spit shining thick on Matilda. 

Your breath rasps in and out in your throat. Saliva caught at the back. You cough a little, try and clear it out. Leon gives you another smirk, another sharp and feral grin. 

“You’ve wetted it nicely for me.” Looks down, lip curling, “though I think I could’ve used it even without your spit.” 

Your lips form a question, but no real words come out because he’s fit the tip right at your, you swear, dripping hole. Twists so the grip faces up. 

“God you’re so wet. This is it, huh? Just a gun and you pant, make a mess of yourself.” It’s said through gritted teeth, but you welcome this kind of muffled, through-the-teeth talk. 

You’ve no energy for words either, focused solely on the thrumming tension. The skittering need that jumps over your skin. You’re vaguely aware that each sawing breath you take has a sweet little moan attached at the end. And that every time you sound that moan, Leon’s eyes go a little crazy. Blinking, jumping to your mouth, ping-ponging between the lips between your legs and the lips on your face. 

You try hard to stay still. To keep your hips from bucking. But he teases your entrances, tip of his tongue poking out just so, looking terribly concentrated. Keeps a steady hand on your thigh, just above your knee. 

You think- rethink- the whole no words thing. Maybe you will beg. Say something- anything. You want to be filled, stuffed until you can’t breathe. 

Leon’s eyes flash to yours and with a little controlled jerk of his forearm, he pushes the muzzle into your cunt. Your mouth falls open on an aborted breath in. Lungs seemingly have forgotten to inflate properly. 

The edges of the blunt metal catch, gentle, on your slick, slippery walls. Leon twists his wrist. Watches with rapt attention at how you moan with every sharp press into you. 

“Please…” you rasp. You’re not sure what you’re saying please to. But he smiles nonetheless. Increases his speed. 

“Bet I wouldn’t have to put my cock in you. I could have you cumming just solely on this, huh?” His voice cracks over the last word, though and you know he’s feeling just as affected as you. 

You nod mindlessly anyways. Though you want to relish in him sliding into you as easily as his gun; you can’t deny that he’s right. That you could cum on his pistol. 

“C’mon sweetheart, cum on my favorite gun so I can stuff you with my cock.” This gets a slew of curses out of you, back arching, rolling your hips down.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl. Sweet, sweet girl. Gonna get you cum drunk. Cock drunk. Whatever comes first” Leon pants, sounds as mindless as you feel. “Christ you’re a needy little thing.” And you’re helpless but to nod best you can, and give him what he wants. Each sharp, rough push of the muzzle into your cunt brings you just a step closer to cumming. Eager to please, eager to do as he says. 

And with a little drag of his wrist, and the slightest touch to your clit, you’re off. 

“Shit-“ has your voice always been this high? Needy and breathless? “Leon, Leon, Leon. Please-“ He doesn’t say anything, just lets you ride it out. 

You hear his gun clatter to the floor before he’s on you. Flipping you, placing your hands on the wall. His nose presses close to your hair, “hold yourself up on the wall, darling” in a tight voice. 

His movements were feverish, quick. He settles you in a nice arch, ass tilted up. He smooths a hand down your salt slicked spine, pushes your hair over your shoulder.

“I’ll come back to that later.” You hear him mutter to himself. 

His fingers bruise themselves into the fat on your hips, maybe into your bones. He knocks your knees apart with his; you’ll have scrapes later. Marks. 

He doesn’t bother slicking himself up- there’s no need, not really. Not when your cunt is very nearly dribbling onto the floor. 

Leon spreads your ass cheeks with both hands; does he ever fucking take those gloves off. He grips hard. Fingers sinking into soft skin.

You’re still moaning, still scrabbling at the wall with your hands. Though they keep sliding down, palms as sweat slicked as yours are. 

In one smooth motion, he buries himself, immediately bottoms out. His chest touches your back and his weight nearly crashes you off your, admittedly, precarious hold on the wall. 

You don’t think you’re going to survive this. 

He sets a brutal pace, cock sliding hot and thick, in and out of your hole. You catch bits and pieces of: “god you’re so tight, christ” and “everything I thought about. You take it so good- so well”. Who knew Leon was such a whiner when he fucks? Each phrase lilting at the end. 

He slams into you, releases a cheek to curl his fingers at the base of your head. Jerking your hair, pulling your back flush with his front. He lays your head on his shoulder, keeps it there. Puts his lips to your ear. You hear short, forceful gasps, little moans. He wasn’t quiet. 

He keeps a hand steady on your hip, every thrust punching out breathless moans. 

“Leon-” seems to be the only thing you can say. 

His lips move at your ear, stirring the smaller hairs. “Yeah baby girl? Gonna cum for me again? Give my cock the same treatment you gave my gun?” On the word gun, he pulls his hips back to sharply snap back forward. His free arm winds around you. 

“Oh poor thing, you can barely hold yourself up.” High, desperate. “Pathetic. Never seen a woman drive herself up a wall over a fucking gun.” 

You whine, feeling a familiar coil build low in your gut. 

“God almost jealous over my own gun, feeling you clench on me. You gonna cum again? Squeeze my cock real nice with your pussy. Let me feel it, darling.” Leon’s hoarse voice whispers and it feels like a benediction. Sounds like God himself. 

His hips don’t stutter- keeps the same relentless pace. Slapping into you, each wet squelch sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

You try your best to meet his thrusts, but you know you’re sloppy. Miss a beat every few slams. You clutch at his arm around your waist. 

“So loud, so perfect.” He pants. “Don’t let- don’t let anyone else hear this. Just for me, let it be only for me.” You would promise him the world in your palm if you could right now. 

His hand slides down to circle your clit. You might cry. 

“Too much- please. God.” You finally get out, sagging against his arm.

“Not enough.” He grunts, fingers skating over you, adding more pressure. 

“God. Fuck. Leon- stop. I’m gonna… gonna-” but you can’t finish your thought. He pounds you harder. You think with a quick flash of embarrassment- you’re gonna make a mess on him. 

“Do it, c’mon darling, I know you wanna cum. I can feel it. That pussy’s so tight, greedy. Practically fucking yourself on me-” 

You feel all that pressure, a mixture of pleasure and pain release. Built to an all consuming peak. Hot and gushy, you cum. Feel slickness slide down the inside of your thighs. 

“Yessss..” Leon hisses. “Just like that. Good girl. Let me- let me fuck you through it. So good.” You’re exhausted, spent. Almost too oversensitive. Leon’s cock a bruising force, pushing into you, slapping hard. But he doesn’t let up. So focused on you. 

“Cunt squeezes so tight when you cum. Fuck.” The slapping of his hips against you starts to stutter, becoming inconsistent. He isn’t going to last much longer. 

“Leon- Leon please. Wanna feel you. Please- you, you made me cum so good. Use me, want you to feel just as good.” You mumble through swollen, numb lips. He bites down on your shoulder. Presses you against the wall. You wince against the feel of his teeth in your skin but it feels good. A good kind of hurt. 

He groans, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel it swell. 

“Fuck-” Leon whines out loudly. Slams full hilt into you. “God.” The breath he takes in is shaky. Another touch of warmth gushes between your thighs. Fuck, you’re a mess. 

Leon uses the arm wrapped around your waist to tug you tight against him, to fall back on him, cock still in you. Pillows his head on your discarded clothing, your head on his shoulder. 

You lay there a moment, trying to catch your breath.

“Next time- next time I wanna see your pretty lips around my cock.” Leon tugs your chin, turns you to properly face him. His softening cock slips out of you, and so does more warmth. More of his cum. 

“Jesus Leon, can I catch my breath first?” You ask, watch his face take on just a little bit of a predatory glint. He squeezes you. 

“Why don’t we get you, and I, cleaned up. Figure this situation out.” 

Neither of you even know if base ever tried to contact you. Comms had been thrown to the ground with the rest of your shit.

You grin, trace his lips with your fingers. “Sounds good to me.” 

#MEOWING PITEOUSLY #shameless op #guns #guns n smut #this is #i am frfr a demon for this #leon x reader #Leon got guns on guns #smut #pls don’t read if u don’t like guns #had me kickin my feet reading back through this #starwritesstuff #resident evil #resident evil fanfic

[hurricaneonanesthesia]

TWST Dorm Leaders with a bender s/o (Pt. 2)

So I promised a part 2 to the dorm leader with a bender s/o, so here it is! Hope y’all like it. Sorry, Idia and Malleus’s are a bit short lol.

~Admin Hurricane

Vil Schoenheit: Earthbender

The first time he saw you he freaked the hell out cause one, you had no shoes, two you were chucking rocks and earth everywhere as soon as you were unleashed on the entrance ceremony

When the VDC comes around, he comes to appreciate your down-to-earth (haHA GET IT CAUSE YOU’RE AN EARTHBENDER-) personality, however the stubborn part of your personality is slightly irritating. Still it isn’t anything he can’t handle, right?

Bonus points if your personality is anything like Toph’s, you and Epel are gonna give Vil the biggest headache he’s had in a while LMFAO 

He appreciates it when you get Ace and Deuce and bash their heads together cause they keep trying to sneak food and help them get their shit together in preparation for the VDC, everything has to be perfect!

Lmfao this is a bit random but I just thought of it, you’re stuck with my chaotic neurodivergent ass so bear with me

Earthbender S/O: I spilled lipstick in your Valentino bag

Vil: i-WH- LIPSTICK IN MY VALENTINO WHITE BAG????

Okay back to the VDC lmao

The stadium is essentially destroyed in the aftermath of his overblot, especially with the jagged pieces of rock and stone jutting out of the ground.

Then Mal mal comes and fixes the stadium and everything is all good

Vil comes to terms with the fact that he was a little quick to judge your based on appearances, he becomes much softer and lenient towards you

Idia Shroud- Firebender

So you can shoot blue fire and channel lightning? The heck you’re practically an anime character from one of his anime. 

Starts questioning you if you’re using any tech to create fire, but he’s amazed to find that you create it yourself from thin air.

He’s shy, yes, but that won’t stop him from trying to peek in with his tablet during your training sessions. 

You and Ortho definitely have a good relationship, after all if Idia’s taken an interest in your abilities then Ortho’s all for it

Idia will definitely ask you to join him in playing video games and watching anime with him.

Malleus Draconia- Airbender

He finds it amusing that a mere mortal such as yourself can have so much excitement over everything, almost like he’s looking after a child

He is taken aback by the wisdom you hold, which reminds him a bit of Lilia

Sebek is always irritated by you cause you’re zooming around the dorm on a ball of air, while Silver could care less.

“wAKa-sAMa, tHeY’rE dANgEroUS. wHO kNOws wHaT tHEy cOULd dO tO yOu.” -Sebek probably.

Lilia absolutely adores you, and enjoys teasing you. Tried to feed you his cooking once and Malleus had to rescue you from that.

If you ask Malleus to spar with you he will happily oblige, most likely holding back for the sake of not completely eradicating you on the spot. Sebek almost blew a fuse when he found out what was going on.

Overall, Malleus is very fond of you and enjoys listening to you ramble on about your world and your sky bison which you unfortunately didn’t join you in the TWST world. He likes seeing your eyes light up with excitement.

Want more of my writing? Be sure to check out my masterlist :)

If you wanna request something, don’t be afraid to send something my way! Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!

Wanna know what else I’ll write for? Here you go! Just be sure to read the requesting rules before you send anything in.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #malleus draconia #idia shroud #vil schoenheit #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus headcanons #malleus x reader #malleus x mc #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #idia x mc #twisted wonderland idia x reader #idia shroud headcanons #malleus draconia headcanons #fluff #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland vil x reader #vil x reader #vil x mc #vil schoenheit headcanons

[mypoisonedvine]

Rough Ride | biker!Chris Evans x reader

summary: for a biker, chris is quite the romantic.  for a small-town waitress, you’re quite the rebel for falling for a biker.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut!!, biker gang shenanigans, references to smoking, love at first sight, a touch of possessiveness, vaguely soulmate au?? (because of aforementioned love at first sight), kinda innocent reader, shy reader, essentially a very fluffy pwp

The gang had never really scared you, even if the other girls working here were intimidated by them.  In your mind, having a motorcycle club frequent your hole-in-the-wall meant being more protected rather than more vulnerable.  Most of them were nice enough, even if their glances were less than subtle and they brought in the smell of cigarettes with them.  They tipped well, and what matters other than that?  

When you saw Chris for the first time, though, you were intimidated.  Maybe that wasn’t the right word.  It wasn’t him that scared you at all, but the rush of feelings that overcame you.  What scared you was knowing that, as absurd as it was, you were in love.

He sat at your table, as if he knew you’d be serving him, spreading his legs as he got comfortable and draping a leather jacketed arm over the worn pleather booth.  You’d tried to keep your cool, taking his order in spite of those crystal blue eyes piercing right through you.  Ink decorated his skin, peeking out from every edge of his clothing— unreadable words on his neck, abstract shapes on his wrists and hands, letters on his knuckles.  You watched from the kitchen as those tattooed fingers wrapped around the mug of coffee you’d served him, his neck tattoo shifting a little as he took a long sip.

“Do y’all want anything to eat?” you asked quietly, waiting for a chance to hear his voice.  His buddies answered first, ordering hashbrowns and bacon and their various usuals.  With no one else left to ask, your eyes met his and you waited in tense silence for him to say something.

“You got pancakes?”  

How stupid that those were the words that made your heart stop, slurred with a Boston accent, monotone to the point it barely sounded like a question.

You were in love with him.  Before now you hadn’t been the type to dream about soulmates, to wait for your Prince Charming to come save you.  But this guy had a noble steed you could ride off into the sunset with— except it was a Ducati, and sunset wasn’t for another nine hours…

“Hello?” he frowned.

Oh, had you forgotten to actually say something?

“Y-yes,” you finally blurted out, “we’ve got pancakes.  Best in the county.”

“Blueberry?”

You nodded quickly.  “Or cinnamon, or banana, or original…”

“Blueberry then,” he decided.  “Thanks.”

You shuffled to the back, spinning behind the saloon door into the kitchen and leaning against the wall with a sigh.  It was a miracle you remembered any of the other orders, since all you could think about was him and his eyes and his voice and those ridiculously lovely tats.

You passed the order on to the cook, taking off the apron part of your uniform so you could try to cool off for a second, only peering out to check that the table didn’t need anything every few minutes.  As much as you wanted to hide away in the kitchen forever, you could see that a few of the mugs were empty at his table and you needed to give them a refill.  

Sighing and grabbing a fresh pot from the coffeemaker, you ventured back into the dining area; of course it only took him a split second to lock his eyes on you, watching you come closer with a stare that made the silence so much more oppressive.

“Everything alright so far?” you asked, voice much shakier than you meant for it to be.  One of the other bikers asked about getting a cup of decaf, another wanted more creamer, but he just sipped at the black coffee and kept his eyes trained on you over the rim on the mug.  “Food should be out in a minute…”

You all but ran back to the kitchen; you could only take so much of him at once.  Looking at him was like looking at the sun, and looking anywhere else was like a waste of your vision.

You made busywork for yourself in the kitchen, rearranging utensils and refilling ketchup bottles.  You heard the kitchen door swing open behind you, the light shifting in the corner of your eye.

“Charlene, can you cover my table for a while?  I can’t go back out there—” you began, but heavy footsteps stopping behind you made you realize it was most certainly not Charlene.  You spun around to find him staring down at you, contemplating the way you shrunk into his shadow.

“Were you really gonna run so quick?  Make Charlene bring me my pancakes?” he asked with a gentle voice, stepping slightly closer.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” you explained sheepishly.

“I heard we own this place,” he returned, raising an eyebrow, “and everything in it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “something like that…”

Then he moved in so close— almost too close, even though you simultaneously wanted more— until you were clutching the cool metal table behind you, your eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” he whispered, “do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I’m starting to,” you admitted quietly.  And he kissed you, so much more delicate and tender than he had any right to be.  Maybe you should’ve feigned disinterest, but not even for a moment could you do anything but kiss him back, slipping your arms around his neck.  But that wasn’t enough to keep him close, unfortunately, as he pulled away much too soon.

“How about now?” he pressed, and your eyes were a little delayed in opening again as you tried to process the fact that you’d just experienced the most perfect kiss of all time.

You nodded a little, looking back up at him and biting your lip slightly.  “You never told me your name,” you realized.

“Chris,” he answered quickly.  You started to tell him yours but he finished it for you, making your eyes go wide.

“How did you—?”

He smirked and tapped on the hard plastic nametag pinned to your chest.

“Oh,” you giggled, “right…”

He leaned in a little closer, one arm caging you in as it rested against the wall by your head, while the other was playing with the hem of your yellow uniform.  “When do you get off?” he purred in your ear, his fingers brushing over your legs just under your skirt.

“Whenever you want me to get off,” you answered quickly, not even noticing the double entendre.

“Right now,” he decided.  “Your shift ends right now, and you’re gonna get on the back of my bike and ride with me.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

You stood a few feet away on the gravel while he started the engine, enraptured at the way his fingers gripped the handles and pumped the gas and brakes to test them.  When he guided you to get on the back, you tried not to notice the way the vibrations of the bike shot right through you, and just focused on his face as he turned back to look at you.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Your place.”

He chuckled lightly but revved the engine, kicking off and sending the bike spurring forward onto the highway.  You clutched at his torso tightly, resting your face on the leather of his jacket and watching your tiny little town roll by.

//

Normally this would be the time to describe his apartment, but you didn’t even notice it; you were too busy grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him into you the second he’d unlocked the door.  You’d never kissed anyone like this, or ever tried to, or ever wanted to, so you didn’t know if you were doing it right.  But he sure seemed to like it considering he pressed against you and moaned a little into your mouth.

Maybe it was all a game for him, his chance to corrupt an innocent waitress who bought his crap because she was gullible enough to believe he loved her.  You knew that was more likely than not, you weren’t stupid for all your naivete, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to believe it.  It felt so real, the way he pulled you closer, the way he kissed you— it didn’t feel like he was rushing you, since you were the one who helped him take his jacket off before you started to unbutton your uniform, and pushed him back onto the mattress on the floor, straddling him as you moaned into his mouth.

“Baby,” he whispered against your lips, something like shock mixed with pride painting the tone of his voice.

“I need you,” you whimpered, “I’ve never— I don’t usually— this isn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he nodded, “I get it.  I’ve never felt this way before either.”

He pushed your hands away from their task of opening the uniform, his thick and ink-decorated fingers taking over instead.  Your face warmed as he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, revealing your practical bra— not very sexy, unfortunately, but he didn’t seem to mind as he ran his hands all over your newly-exposed skin.

Not that you would’ve been especially irritated if it took him a minute to unhook your bra, but of course he did it seamlessly.  Faster than when you tried to do it yourself, even.

His palms were warm as they cupped your breasts, your nipples already hard but reacting further to being tweaked between his thumb and forefingers.  A shiver danced down your spine, and you fought between looking back into his piercing gaze or glancing away to spare yourself the intensity of it all.  You stammered out his name when he pinched a little harder, almost losing your balance but catching yourself on his chest.

He stopped and sat up to quickly pull his shirt off, and you bit your lip at the sight of his chest and torso littered in ink.  You wanted to trace each one with your tongue, but that would have to wait for another time; instantly he pushed you off of him and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his absurdly thick arms and grinning as he hovered above you.

“You are so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, “did you know that?”

You stammered, never really getting out an effective reply, as he reached down and toyed with the hem of your panties.  His fingers tickled your skin while he started to pull them down, excruciatingly slow; his eyes bore into yours for the longest time, dark and brooding, until he finally glanced down and watched the fabric slide over your thighs.

With bated breath, you waited for his reaction to your nude body.  He was silent as he pushed your legs apart, finally letting out a low growl as he spread your folds.  “Fuck, baby…” he sighed just under his breath.

The moment his fingers made contact with your soaked folds, you gasped; he gathered the abundant slick he found there and spread it over your clit, drawing relaxed circles over it as you fought not to buck your hips up already.  That was impossible, though, when he slipped a finger into your soaking entrance, and then another.

“Oh—” you gasped, sitting up to watch him work as if you couldn’t really believe it was happening otherwise.

Watching his tattoos disappear inside you was… indescribable.  Your head fell back as those fingers curled inside you, his thumb rubbing over your clit roughly.  “Fuck,” you groaned, “Chris, don’t stop…”

He didn’t, in fact he only pumped and twisted his fingers faster until you clutched at the sheets beneath you and arched your back.  You couldn’t exactly keep track of what you were saying, or how long it had been going, but you were pretty sure that you were doing lots of begging and that it had not been long enough to justify the fact that you were already right on the edge of coming.  When his fingers moved a little faster and a little rougher, you moaned his name before you could stop yourself.

“Yeah, you gonna make a mess all over my hand, baby?” he growled through his teeth.

“Yes,” you sobbed, “yes, I’m so close.”

“Then do it,” he encouraged gruffly, “come for me.”

You must have reached up and grabbed him at some point, because your nails were digging into his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark if it weren’t for the marks already there— hard to see a bruise on black ink.  Hard to see anything when you’re coming so hard that your vision goes a little spotty.  If you had realized the intensity of your involuntary convulsions in that moment, you would’ve likely been self-conscious about it, but you didn’t really notice since you were too busy gasping and moaning and writhing for him— and he didn’t even stop until you reached down and grabbed his wrist.  You weren’t strong enough to push him away, of course, but it was a clear signal, and he thankfully slowed down to a stop.  You whimpered a little when he pulled his fingers out of you; he hummed as he brought the digits to his lips and sucked your flavor from them.

Any other day and one orgasm would satisfy you, especially one like that.  And in a sense, you were satisfied; but in another (and stronger) sense, you needed more— you needed everything.  You just hoped that sitting up and fumbling with his belt would get the point across.

He didn’t help you this time, happy to sit there breathing heavily and watching you work on his belt, then his fly, then his boxers until you were gasping as you revealed his thick cock.  Maybe it was just going to go straight to his ego, but you had no interest in hiding your shock at the sight of it, a drop of precum forming at the slit; a picturesque vein running up the underside.  “Fuck,” you groaned, wrapping your hand around it and giving it a few slow strokes.

You yelped a little, in a good way, as he pushed you back onto the bed and kissed you deeply: it was needy, but not quite rough.

When the tip of him prodded at your entrance, you gasped against his lips, and yet you were still a little disappointed when he broke the kiss and pulled away, his eyes rapidly scanning your expression.

“You want it?” he asked— not a taunt, a genuine question.

“Yes,” you nodded, “more than anything.”

“This isn’t a fling,” he told you sternly.  “This isn’t a one-night stand.  We do this, you’re mine, you understand?”

“Yours,” you agreed with a breathless nod, and he finally pushed the tip into you.  He stopped when you winced, but you didn’t mind the sting so much— you wanted to feel everything, even the pain, as long as it was him.  You wrapped your legs around his hips and tried to push him in deeper, but he resisted.  “I want it all, please,” you begged weakly.

“Not sure you can take it,” he admitted nervously.

“I can, please, just need you inside me,” you whined.

He sighed a little but relented and pushed all the way in, still maintaining a measured pace; you sighed with relief when his hips were flush against yours.  The sting was nothing compared to the perfection of his body nestled in yours, the way he looked down at you before he kissed you again.  It was less rushed than before, less desperate as he savored every inch of you, like you had all the time in the world— it certainly felt like you did.

He didn’t pull out very far, focusing instead on grinding his hips against yours, which not only served to keep him so deep inside you that you could barely breathe but also pressed some very hard part of him right into your clit.  It was nearly overwhelming, but his kiss kept you grounded, along with his arms slipping under you so he could hold you tight.  You clutched at his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, kissing him back and moaning against his tongue.  It helped you relax a little, until your body opened up to his size and he could thrust a bit harder without resistance.  Even then, he kept it slow and steady, waiting until you whined and pleaded for more to start really fucking you.

You couldn’t keep up with the kiss anymore when he pounded into you like that, your head falling back and giving him perfect access to gently bite at your neck.  It only made you wetter to imagine that while he wore his tattoos on his neck, you could bare whatever marks he made on your skin with his lips and teeth and tongue.  Too bad yours would be less permanent.

“How’s it feel?” he asked you darkly, his voice rough but warm against your ear.

“So good,” you panted, “you feel so good.”

He reached down to grab your parted legs and hold them open wider, and you hadn’t realized that it would send the tip of him spearing straight into your most delicate spot.  Your back arched instantly and you made a somewhat embarrassing noise, but he grinned and nibbled at your jaw, thrusting a little faster and repeating the motion.

“F-fuck,” you shuddered.

“You’re— shit, you’re squeezin’ on me,” he groaned, and you took pride in the way pleasure affected his voice.  “Can feel you tryin’ to milk my cock.”

Lewd talk like that had never turned you on so much before, but it was different the way he said it.  Then again, everything was different when he did it, especially the way his fingertips were sure to leave little bruises on your legs from how tight he was holding.

“Look down,” he instructed as he sat up slightly, “look at how good you’re takin’ me, baby.”

You did, and sure enough, it was hard to believe that every time he pulled back, his massive cock was somehow going to fit back inside you again— or that it ever did in the first place.  But with every stroke he filled you to the brim, and when you looked back up, he was already staring down at you with those damn eyes that kept you frozen in place every time.

He pulled out suddenly, making you whimper at the loss as he stared down at you.  “Flip over, get on your hands and knees for me.”

You surprised yourself with how quickly you obeyed, arching your back as his rough hands gripped at your hips tightly.  When he pulled you back and speared you on his cock, it was like an entirely new sensation.  His cock was even deeper, stretching your walls in new ways as you keened and whimpered beneath him.

“How’s that feel, baby?” he groaned, already setting a new and much more aggressive pace.

“So good,” you cried, “it’s so good, you’re so good…”

“You like how I fuck you?” he pressed, like your mouth hung slack and your hands struggling to hold onto the mattress weren’t enough to make it obvious that you did.

“Love it,” you moaned, “please, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, thankfully, not even close; he held your body and pulled you back onto him in time with his own thrusts forward, the sound of skin on skin rivalled only by your constant stream of moans and cries.  

Another orgasm was well on its way, though this one felt different than the first— coming on slower but stronger, making your legs shake as they fought to hold you up your weight.  

When the coil finally snapped, you didn’t feel the need to tell him you were coming again, because it was so obvious from the way you moaned and how your walls rippled and tightened on him harder than ever.  And just in case it wasn’t clear that he noticed you hitting the height of your pleasure, he leaned down a little and mumbled right against your ear: “Feels so good when you come for me, baby.”

You whimpered and let your upper body collapse onto the bed; the dramatic arch in your back was slightly uncomfortable, but your orgasm had made your whole body a little numb so you didn’t notice.

“Want you to come too,” you sighed, desperate to make him feel even a fraction as good as he’d made you feel.

“Fuck, I will,” he warned you, “god, you feel so good, gonna come inside you.”

“Please,” you sighed, “want it all in me, Chris, please…”

He followed through on his promise with a stuttered gasp, stopping his thrusts to stay buried deep in you as you felt his cock swell and flex against your walls.  Warmth spread within you as you hummed contentedly, his heavy breathing slowly stabilizing before he gently pulled out and guided you to lay beside him on the bed.

For a moment, you feared that he’d gotten what he wanted and would either toss you out or just slowly disappear from your life.  After all, he was him, and you were you, and there was something oil-and-water about it all, right?

Wrong.  He wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into him, and kissed you one more time.  You reciprocated quickly and tried not to smile too hard.

“If I say something really stupid,” he whispered when he pulled back slightly. “will you promise not to freak out?  I mean, I know it’s impossible and it doesn’t make any sense and we just met but—”

“I love you too,” you interrupted, and he smiled back at you, letting out a sigh of bemused relief.  

“Bein’ a biker’s girl isn’t easy,” he warned you, “but I’ll keep you safe, I can promise that.”

His words were just that; words.  But the way he held you tightly and kissed you deeply made you sure that he would keep his promise. 

#chris evans x reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans biker au #biker!chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

[drabbles-mc]

Could you do a HC on how the Mayans men would react to a girl getting hit on at a bar and the guy not taking no for an answer, like they don't know her or anything. I feel like they all respect women enough to at least do something about it; ya know?

All of the Mayans men wake up every day and drink a full pitcher of Respect Women Juice. They will not tolerate disrespect in their house. HC’s under the cut!

(I couldn’t decide if i wanted to do third person or reader insert for these but I settled on reader insert. Hopefully it works alright)

Bishop:

-Senses the tension immediately 

-My man sits back and watches the entire clubhouse all night. He knows everything that’s going on. And when he notices that some guy is refusing to leave you alone, he instantly gets up and goes to intervene.

-He’s not hot-headed about it. He doesn’t have the time or the energy for that anymore. But he places himself between the two of you, looking back and forth, “Everything alright here?”

-The guy would try to brush it off and reassure him that yea, of course everything is okay you can leave now. But Bishop wouldn’t have any of that. He’d cut him off mid-sentence, “I wasn’t fucking asking you.”

-He’d turn to you and ask again if you’re alright. You’d give a slight shake of her head no, not wanting to stir up drama but also not wanting to deal with this dude anymore. And that’s all it would take.

-”I think you should leave,” he wouldn’t yell. Just state it as a fact. But when the guy would try to argue that’s when he would get a little more heated. He’d step in closer to the dude’s face, but not putting hands on him, “I said you should fucking leave.”

-Bishop only uses yelling and brute force as a last resort. Very rarely does it ever come to that. He would follow the guy all the way to the clubhouse door, making sure that he actually leaves before going back to check on the poor girl that he was harassing. He 100% lingers close for the rest of the night to make sure no one bothers you.

Angel:

-King of being the Fake Boyfriend.

-My tall boy might be emotionally illiterate sometimes but he can read a social situation. When he sees a girl scrambling to try and come up with excuses to make a guy leave her alone, he has no problem inserting himself into the situation. 

-Smooth as fuck walking up to you, greeting you while resting a protective hand on your shoulder. Instantly setting the tone to whoever is talking to you that this was a useless endeavor.

- "Hey, querida,” he’d wait for you to look at him, “Sorry, didn’t see you walk in. You get a drink already? Want me to get you something?”

-The look in his eyes would let you know that he’s offering you an out to the uncomfortable situation that you’re in. He’s not trying to flirt--he’s just trying to drive away whatever asshole wasn’t catching the hint that you didn’t want to talk.

- "Who the fuck are you?” this is a problem that the guy did not see coming.

-Angel would look at him, eyes narrow, “I’m her boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?”

- The question is rhetorical. It doesn’t matter who the guy is. Angel doesn’t give him a chance to answer. He steps closer to the guy, towering over him. He looks down at him and is practically begging the guy to say something stupid so he has an excuse to physically throw him out the front door.

- He doesn’t get the chance, though. The guy reads the cue, knows that it’s a fight that he will not win, and walks away.

- Angel would turn back to you, “You good? Sorry about that. Didn’t seem like he was getting the hint.”

- You’d shake your head, “He wasn’t. Thank you, I appreciate the assist.”

- “No problem,” he’d pause, “But forreal did you get a drink already? First round on me.”

Ezekiel:

- Y’all remember the casino scenes with the cops? That’s how he handles shit.

- Master of keeping his cool in frustrating situations. Completely follows your lead. He sees a lot of weird interactions being on the serving side of the bar, always clocking what’s happening in front of him in case he has to step in.

-He’d notice you rolling your eyes and giving short answers. He’d also notice that the guy either isn’t picking up the cues, or is willfully ignoring them. EZ catches your eyes a few times, silently asking if you want him to step in. You shake your head--the guy is annoying but harmless for the time being.

- Then he tries to touch you. Casually reaching for your shoulder, trying to rest his hand on your knee. You recoil, trying to create more space between the two of you. He doesn't care though.

- That’s when EZ can’t keep it to himself anymore. He’d sigh, not looking up from the glasses that he’s cleaning, “I don’t think she’s into you, man.”

- You and the man would both turn to look at him, each of you with a surprised expression on your faces. You’d stay quiet, wanting to see how the situation was going to play out. The man next to you would scoff, “I don’t remember you being part of this fucking conversation.”

- “I might as well be if I have to sit here and watch it. You’re the only one out of the three of us not suffering from how uncomfortable this is.”

- His commentary would ruffle some feathers. The man next to you would get defensive, “No one asked for your fucking opin--”

- Knowing that EZ had your back would give you a little extra confidence, “You should listen to him,” you nod, “He’s right. We’re suffering.”

- He’d be caught off-guard by the two of you teaming up on him. Realizing it wouldn't be worth the fight, he’d huff and walk away. EZ would watch him and chuckle, calling after him, “Least you could do is pay your fucking tab!”

- You’d laugh, glad to be done with the uncomfortable situation, “His drink and whatever you want are all on me tonight. As a thank you.”

- He’d give you that little smirk, “Don’t mention it.”

Coco:

- Zero tolerance policy.

- Not coy or polite about it at all.

-Instantly uses himself as a barrier between you and whatever guy it is that’s not leaving you alone. He might not be the biggest guy in the MC, but he sure as hell carries himself like he is when the situation calls for it.

-Will not hesitate to get nose-to-nose with whoever is bothering you. If someone wants to invade your space, he’ll invade theirs. Fair is fair.

- “You really can’t take a fuckin’ hint, huh?” he’d shake his head.

- “What’s your problem?” the man’s voice would sound confident but the look in his eyes would show that he really didn't want a problem with whoever this guy was getting in his face.

- “You. Fuckin’ beat it,” he’d jerk his head towards the door, “Don’t come back, either.”

- Coco carries himself with the confidence of a man that will make someone pay dearly for coming back uninvited. Confrontational situations usually resolve themselves quickly. People tend to not want to mess with him if they can avoid it.

-When the guy inevitably leaves not just you, but the clubhouse altogether, Coco finally turns back to you, “You good, ma?”

- You nod, watching him light up a cigarette, “Uh, yea. I’m good. Thanks for that.”

- He nods, blowing out a puff of smoke, “We’ll make sure that fucker never comes back.”

Hank:

- The only thing that Hank Loza drinks is Respect Women Juice. When he runs across someone that doesn’t, it gets out of hand really quickly.

-Bull in a china shop.

- The same man who is usually calm and cool and collected, physically removes whoever it is that is causing a problem. The guys have tried to teach him deescalation skills but it never sticks. It’s the only thing that Hank gets heated about so they all let it go at this point.

- Hank isn’t a small dude. When he steps toe-to-toe with someone he almost always out-sizes them. They get about 5 seconds to hear what he says and leave on their own before he removes them on his own.

- “You should leave her alone,” the friendly suggestion is really anything but.

- The guys are almost always cocky, not thinking that anything is actually going to happen to them, “Or what, tough guy?”

- They ignored their first and only warning. What happens next is all on them. Hank grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him from the ground. His voice is quiet, which is way more terrifying than yelling, “Let’s find out.”

- Hank lifts and carries the guy out, on the brink of dragging him like a caveman. The guy is yelling in protest, trying to swing, but Hank is unfazed.

- He throws the guy down the steps of the clubhouse, giving a final warning not to come back. No longer in an agumentative mood, the man takes off in a desperate attempt to avoid getting further tossed around.

- When he goes back into the clubhouse, the rest of the guys have moved on from the situaiton--to them it was business as usual for Hank. You, on the other hand, didn't see the situation unfolding that way at all. He walked back up to you, the anger gone from his face, a gentle smile there instead.

- “Are you alright?” he looks you over as if to make sure you didn't get hurt in the midst of it all.

- “Yea,” you nod, “I’m...I’m fine. Thanks. You...you didn’t have to do all that.”

- He’d chuckle, knowing that for him it was the only course of action, “Of course I did,” he’d gently rest his hand on the outside of your arm, “Let me know if anyone else gives you any trouble.”

Creeper:

- The smaller version of Hank, tbh. Constantly out here Respecting Women.

- Remember that scene where he catches a shotgun that’s tossed to him and immediately starts shooting on the highway?? That’s the energy he has when dealing with men who disrespect women.

- Cannot easily lift and remove men the same way Hank does, but he will throw hands without hesitation.

- The guys told him no more threatening with guns in the clubhouse. So fists will have to suffice.

- Does not offer a warning to the guy. If someone is being pushy or rude, they don’t deserve a heads-up. He will try to get your attention in some way first, to make sure that you want him to intervene. If he thinks that it’s going to get out of hand, or if you let him know with a pleading look that you could use the assist, he is instantly throwing himself into the middle of it.

- He’d catch your eye, motioning back and forth between you and the man in front of you to ask if you need an out. You’d give him a slight nod and that’s all it would take.

- Walking up, he grabs the guy by his shoulder and turns him around, “Hey, motherfucker,” he’d shove him towards the door of the clubhouse, “Leave.”

- Caught off-guard, the man would shove him back. Fully-bruised ego shining through, “Keep your hands off me.”

- That’s when you’d hear the first crack of a fist colliding with someone’s jaw. Your eyes would go wide, not ever having seen Creeper get like this. His focus would be completely on the man stumbling towards the ground in front of him, “I said get the fuck out.”

- It usually doesn’t take more than one punch to get his point across. HIs muscles aren’t just for show--getting clocked by him fucking hurts. They’re lucky that he’s not big on wearing rings.

- Once the threat is neutralized, he instantly shifts back into his quiet, gentler self to check in with you. He sees the surprise in your face at how things unfolded and he holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m done, promise.”

- It’d get you to laugh. You can see it in his expression that it’s almost like a switch he can flip on and off. “Um. Thank you. That...isn’t what I was expecting. But thank you.”

- “Are you alright?” he’d sit down next to you, mindful to give you some space.

- “Yea, I’m good. How’s your hand?”

- He’d chuckle, “All good. Nothing new.”

Okay this was a lot of fun. I love all these dorks. Hope you enjoyed! xo

#ask #asks #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayansmc #mayans fx #angel reyes #bishop losa #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #hank loza #tranq loza #creeper vargas #neron vargas #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #Anonymous #hc #mayans hc #mayans mc hc #drabblesmc

[yoontopia]

coffee & cream | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x (f) reader

genre: friends with benefits au (like the movie mila kunis is sexy y’all), one (1) smut scene [in the form of oral (m) and (f) receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids cmon), spanking, grinding], fluff, angst (but its a happy ending bc its me)

rating: M

word count: 14.3k

summary: Jungkook isn’t usually a risk taker-- in fact, he’s the safest guy in the room. But you’re about to change that

Jungkook adjusts his tie and looks out of the little airplane window. The seatbelt sign is blinking back on – it’s been a relatively exhausting flight from LA to New York and his legs are numb. He eyes the tall buildings of the metropolis below, squinting when he can see the Empire State building in his view. It isn’t his first time in Manhattan, having visited once with his family when he was a teenager. The sheer size of the place terrifies him a little though.

It’s not like Los Angeles isn’t a big city. LA is huge, in fact, and just as saturated as any big city is. But New York is a different topic altogether. Jungkook finds LA intimidating, he’s not sure where to even start with Manhattan.

He walks out into JFK, hoisting his duffle bag on one shoulder. It’s noisy, he notes, as soon as he’s walked out and into baggage claim. He only makes a small pitstop in the men’s bathroom to make sure his hair doesn’t look like birds have nested in it and emerges out, looking around. Someone’s supposed to be picking him up, and they should be here, amongst the throng of people holding up placards with names on them. He’s just pulling out his phone to double check if any emails about his pickup were sent while he was in flight, when a commotion by baggage claim catches his eye. Raising his eyebrows, he takes in the sight before him.

There’s you, hair coming out of your bun, clutching your stilettos close to your chest as you walk barefoot on the baggage belt wearing a crinkled skirt-suit. You’re looking for something, tip toeing around the suitcases, unaware of the stares you’re getting. You’re walking towards him, against the direction of the belt and he stares around him and sees a piece of paper with the name JEON JUNGKOOK written on it in bright red lipstick. He leans over to pick it up, and realizes you’ve made a grab for it as well.

“That’s me,” he says. You blink at him in confusion, before your face clears.

“Jeon Jungkook?” you affirm, and he nods, pointing to the piece of paper and then at himself.  “Oh, thank god.” You introduce yourself and hold out your hand, which Jungkook promptly shakes. You’re still on the baggage belt, so he has to walk alongside you.

“You’re picking me up from the airport?”

“Yes!” your voice is hushed and out of breath. You smooth down your flyaway hair hastily.

“Do you… always pick people up like this?” He gestures at the baggage belt and you suddenly laugh, a high tinkling sound. Jumping off the belt, you stand in front of him.

“Uh yeah, you know, I like to keep things interesting,” you say, nodding your head like you mean business. “Welcome to New York, by the way. I feel like I should’ve brought a boombox with that Taylor Swift song blasting on it.”

“I mean there’s always next time, right?” Jungkook cracks a smile, shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit. “You know… you’re not exactly what comes to mind when one thinks ‘headhunter’.”

“Yeah, I prefer the term executive recruiter,” you say offhandedly. “‘Headhunter’ always makes me sound a little creepy.”

“Well,” Jungkook says, as he watches you put your heels back on. They add a significant amount to your height, and you stand in front of him expectantly. “You did stalk me for the past six months. That’s kind of creepy.” You laugh again at that and reach for his bag, which he pulls out of the way.

“Let me carry your bag, it’s my job!”

“You don’t look like you do this often,” he points out.

“Okay so maybe you’re my first recruit, sue me.” You’re pouting faintly, as the two of you walk out of the airport. The New York heat hits Jungkook all at once, and he sniffs the air curiously. “Nasty isn’t it? I love it” you grin.

“What is that?” he asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Sewage, rats, and the sweet smell of capitalism.” You’re waving down a yellow taxi. “Need me to play you that Taylor Swift song yet?” You hold the door open for him and he gets in and you pop in from the other side. Once you’re done giving the driver your destination, you sit back. “So.” You start. Jungkook raises your eyebrows at you. “You’re finally here!”

“Only took six months worth of emails to convince me,” he says, looking out the window as the cab crosses a bridge. Manhattan looms in front of him.

“It’s a huge opportunity,” you say, and he has to give you points for being earnest. “Art director for Vogue? This is the big leagues!” You’re turned in your seat to look over at him. “I mean, no offence to your little internet blog.”

“Which got seven million hits last month,” He points out, only a little offended. You roll your eyes.

“Have you been on TikTok lately, little kids are pulling those numbers.” You say, and he can’t deny it. “But I’ve seen your work firsthand, and you’re amazing at what you do. That’s why you’re here.” Jungkook sighs. The cab is in Manhattan now and he stares out the window once again.

“There must be a reason you’re here,” you continue quietly. “Even I was surprised you finally agreed to give the interview a shot.” Jungkook doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t know you enough to tell you the real reason he up and left his life in LA.

“A free trip to New York? C’mon I’d be an idiot to turn that down!” He says instead, making his tone as light as possible. “But New York’s so crowded. Look around! I’m from California okay? I prefer the coast.” You’re looking at him, and he has a feeling you can see right through him. Considering New York also has the ocean, even Jungkook knows that is the poorest excuse.

“C’mon, what’s really holding you back?” Your tone is serious. Jungkook shrugs.

“I don’t know. This is a ridiculously huge move. I’ve lived in one place my whole life. And I don’t want it to feel like I made the wrong move and got myself into something I can’t handle.”

“I’m telling you, your work is incredible,” you say again, and Jungkook feels the back of his neck go warm. He’s heard flattery before, but you’re a stranger and you sound so blatantly honest. “You’re fully capable of handling this. Look, we’ll get you some coffee before your interview, you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Jungkook mumbles, lowering himself in his seat. You stare.

“What?! You heathen.” You’ve dropped all formalities with him, and Jungkook doesn’t know if that’s just New York, or you.

“It’s really hot,” he says as the cab pulls up to the destination.

“Doesn’t it get hot in LA?” you ask, paying the driver. Jungkook stands on the sidewalk and looks around. He can see the river from where he stands and smell the ocean. That thought comforts him a little.

“Yeah it gets hot in LA, but here it’s the heat, the pollution the humidity. In LA, thirty degrees feels like thirty degrees. Here thirty degrees feels like—the ninth circle of hell—”

“This conversation about the weather is really fascinating, believe me,” you cut him off. “But lucky for me, we’re here.” You point at the large building the two of you are standing outside of. “So, good luck.” Jungkook looks up at the skyscraper.

“Whatever happens, happens,” He says, shaking his head. “I told you, I don’t really want it.”

“I think you do,” you say, crossing your arms slightly. “Whatever it was that convinced you to finally fly out here is also convincing you to go for it. But regardless, just do me a favour? Act like you do want it so that I look good.”

“I guess I can do that,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay”, you say, flashing him another one of your blinding smiles. “Go get ‘em.”

It’s past three in the afternoon by the time Jungkook walks out of the building’s shiny revolving doors.

“Hey!” you’re running towards him, still wearing the same clothes from this morning. Your hair is down though, Jungkook notes.

“You’re still here,” he’s surprised, and partly impressed by your ethic.

“Yeah, well,” you say, sounding sheepish. “It’s my job. How did it go?” Jungkook allows himself a small grin.

“They bought it,” he says, giving you two thumbs up. “You’re safe for a little while longer.” You clap your hands excitedly.

“Well thank you,” you offer him a little curtsy that has him laughing. “I owe you one Jeon.” At that moment, his phone buzzes in his back pocket and he reaches for it, while you cross your arms and wait.

“Uh,” he says, reading the notification. “It’s from you.”

“It’s your offer,” you say, tilting your chin at his phone.

“Wait,” he says, confusion evident on his face. “I got the job?” You’re smiling now.

“They called about five minutes ago,” Your smile widens. “Congratulations! The offer expires at midnight.” Jungkook holds up his phone.

“Why didn’t you just tell me instead of texting me?”

“‘Cause it’s more dramatic,” you state, as if it’s obvious. Jungkook scoffs and looks away, towards the river, running a hand through his hair. You roll your eyes.

“Jungkook, you’re not gonna screw this up,” you say.

“It’s a huge move,” Jungkook argues. “Would you uproot your entire life for a job? Be honest.”

“Well, no. For a job, probably not. But for New York? Yeah, I would. Which is why I’m not gonna sell you on the job, I’m gonna sell you on New York.”

“It’s New York!” Jungkook says, exasperation leaking into his voice. “I’ve seen Iron Man, I know what it’s like!”

“Not the bullshit tourist version,” you say, looking at him, that slight pout back in your face.

“Puppy dog eyes? Really?” He questions, defeat evident in his voice. You laugh.

“C’mon,” You say grinning. “Let me buy you a drink.” You’re walking away from him and crossing the street when you realize Jungkook isn’t following. “What’re you waiting for?”

“For the light to turn so I can cross the street,” he says pointing at the red hand glaring across from him. You scoff and march back up to him.

“You Cali folk are so cute,” Linking your arm with his, you lead him onto the street. “C’mon it’s fine.”

“No, it’s really not,” Jungkook argues, watching a cab nearly run the two of you over, but you expertly dodge it. “See? I’m gonna die.” You lead him down Park Row, your arm warm against his and Jungkook finds himself at the Brooklyn bridge.

“What’re we—” he starts, but you ignore him, dragging him to the foot of Brooklyn Bridge. Cars are rushing past them, commuters going home after a day of work. Pedestrians are walking along the sidewalk, admiring East River below. You walk up to a small woman sitting on the side of the sidewalk in front of some mangoes.

“Maria!” you exclaim, followed by sentences in a language Jungkook barely recognizes as Spanish. The woman looks up in recognition and smiles at you. You fish through your wallet for a few dollar bills before handing them to her. You’re still speaking in Spanish as you point at Jungkook and then at yourself. The woman nods and begins to bag up the sliced mangoes.

“You’re feeding me mangoes off the street?” Jungkook whispers.

“What? I thought you LA folk were all about that organic, local bullshit,” you retort. You graciously take the bagged slices from the woman and wave at her before pulling Jungkook back in the direction of Manhattan.

“Do I at least get to eat them?” He asks.

“Not yet!” you reply cheerfully. You usher him into the Fulton Street Subway station, even let him use your Metro Card. Jungkook is too winded to ask any more questions as you practically push him onto a train. Two stops later, you’re getting off, Jungkook trying to keep up with you.

“Battery Park!” You wiggle your fingers. Jungkook stares around. “This is where you come if you wanna take those super expensive tours to the Statue of Liberty by the way,”

“Good to know,” he laughs. You walk him in the direction of the water but away from the ferries. It’s a promenade, he realizes. The two of you walk until you arrive at what he recognizes as a World War II memorial. You walk towards it and sit down on the slabs of concrete next to the steps, your feet dangling off as you stare at the ocean in front of you. You pat the space next to you and Jungkook throws the thoughts of getting his one good suit dirty and joins you. You promptly hand him the bag of mangoes.

“I thought we were going for a drink,” he jokes. You laugh as you pop open the bag. He stares down at his own. “What did that woman do to my mangoes?”

“She puts cayenne salt on them,” you say, popping a cube into your mouth. Jungkook raises his eyebrows and experimentally puts a piece in his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he says, voice coming out in a moan. “This is amazing”

“Right?” you laugh. “Maria is a culinary genius.” Your legs swing as the air gets cooler. The two of you watch the ferries in silence, but its comfortable. Jungkook breathes in the salty air.

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to clear my head, I come here to watch the sunsets,” you say. “The crowd dies down by then because the only tourists that come here are here for Liberty and the ferries stop around this time.” There is another minute of silence and then – “You know, Jungkook, I like you.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s why, I’ll give you your choice of closes.”

“What?” Jungkook is confused again, a state he finds he’s often in wherever you seem to be involved.

“How I close you on this job.”

“Oh.”

“So, we got the flattery close,” you start, and put on a sweet, simpering voice. “Jungkook, you are so good at what you do!” Jungkook is laughing, but you carry on. “The take-it-or-leave-it close – Man I don’t care if you take it, I get paid regardless!” Jungkook is trying to interrupt but you reel right on. “The sympathy close,” suddenly your voice is hitched, and you pretend to bat away unshed tears. “You see, my liver is failing—”

“Why do women think the only way to get a man to do what they want is to manipulate him?” Jungkook finally manages to interrupt your rant and his voice comes out harsher than he expected it to. You blink at him, a look of understanding flashing across your face and Jungkook clamps his mouth shut.

“History,” you reply, choosing not to pry, for which Jungkook is grateful. “Personal experiences. Romantic comedies.” You look out towards the ocean again. A sailing boat is crossing your line of sight as you speak. “C’mon, you’re here for a reason, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, biting into another slice of mango. “To explore an option. Who wouldn’t want to know their options?”

“Someone who’s in a perfect situation,” you counter.

“Are you in a perfect situation?” He throws your words right back at you.

“Job? Oh, absolutely.” You say. “Everything else? Well, that’s none of your business,” Jungkook chuckles, and you smile. The wind ruffles your hair as you lean back. You watch as he finishes the remainder of his mango. “Ready to go?”

“But we just got here!”

“Chop Chop my friend, New York waits for no one.” Jungkook groans, deciding that you’re just impossible to keep up with.

“Central Park? Really? I thought we weren’t doing the bullshit tourist stuff.” Jungkook is holding a cup of boba in his hand – rose black tea with lychee jelly. The two of you had picked some up on the way to the park. When you’d said drinks, this wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but he wasn’t complaining. You take a giant sip of your own milk tea with pearls.

“You do realize Central Park is huge, right? There are corners of this place tourists tend to not venture into.”

The two of you are near the upper end of the park. The city is more residential here, almost into South Harlem. You tell him it’s the North Meadow. You find small curving paths in the park and the two of you walk around. Jungkook has to admit, it doesn’t feel like he’s currently in the world’s noisiest city.

“Here’s the countryside and peace you were craving for,” you say cheekily, and he laughs. But the air smells cool and fresh, the smell of exhaust and the sound of cars only a faraway tune.

“Okay fine, this wasn’t on TV,” he admits, and you grin. The two of you manage to find a spot in a clearing on a slight hill next to a huge oak tree and make yourselves comfortable on the grass. You pop open the slices of cake you’d picked up at the boba place and dig a fork in them, motioning Jungkook to do the same.

“So, what’s your dad think about all this?” you ask casually and Jungkook stares at you in disbelief. “What? He must have an opinion! He’s famous – he was the brand marketing director for GQ for 23 years.” Jungkook is surprised, to say the least.

“Wow, somebody did their homework.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree. “I have this thing at work. It’s called, uh, Google.” You ignore Jungkook’s scoff. “C’mon, what did he say about the job?”

“Actually, I haven’t asked him.” Jungkook confesses. You don’t need to know that he hasn’t seen or spoken to his father for almost a decade now.

“Well, then, you must know what he’d say,” You counter, waiting patiently for Jungkook to answer.

“He’d tell me to go with my gut,” Jungkook says at last. “And that he’d be proud of me no matter what I did.” If you can sense the shift in his tone, you don’t call him out on it. He’s realizing that you’re more perceptive of your surroundings than he originally gave you credit for.

“Well, he sounds like a really great man.” Your voice is soft and Jungkook doesn’t need to look at you to hear the smile in your voice.

“Yeah, he is.” Jungkook says softly. He doesn’t know if its because you sense the tension, but you stuff the remainder of the cake in your mouth.

“Hey, do you wanna see something really cool?”

“I always want to see something really cool,” Jungkook says easily. He watches you as you lie down on the grass.

“C’mon!” you tell him, and at this point Jungkook knows better than to argue. His suit is ruined anyway. The two of you lie down side-by-side to look up at the sky.

“One of the only places in the city you can actually see a clear night sky,” you point out. “And you know the best part? Very poor cell reception.”

“You bring all your recruits here?”

“I told you, Jeon, you’re my first.”

“Wow.” Jungkook says. “Thanks.”

“But if you tell anyone about this, I will rip your ears off and staple them to your neck.” You continue, in the same, airy tone.

“I believe you,” Jungkook says in a small voice. You sit up next to him. Your hair is frazzled from lying down and your black pencil skirt has grass all over the behind, but you don’t seem to notice or care.

“Oh, it’s time,” you say, checking your watch.

“Time for what?” Jungkook asks, but he hears it as soon as the question leaves his mouth. Soft music reaches his ears from faraway.

“Those tourist spots always have live musicians in the evening.” You say, hugging your knees and resting your chin on them. “But I don’t like the crowds, so I come up here to listen. Nobody for miles – just you and the music.” Jungkook watches you, as your eyes shine, and you stare into the distance.

“Now this is pretty damn cool,” he says. You’re swaying to the music without realizing it and Jungkook watches you tap your foot along to the beat.

“It’s nice to feel like you’re a part of something, right?” you say. “New York can get a little lonely sometimes.”

“And you’re trying to sell me on it.” Jungkook jokes. You laugh, that high tinkling sound Jungkook has come to associate with you after today.

“Every place can be a bit lonely sometimes,” you correct yourself softly. Jungkook thinks the two of you might be more similar than he’d originally thought. He makes a split-second decision.

“I’m in.” he says.

“What?”

“You sold me.”

“Really?” Your eyes are still shining, but you’re looking at him now.

“I’ll take the job,” he laughs. You squeal, still swaying slightly to the music.

“Oh my god!” you grin. “You are so gonna crush it,” And in that moment, surrounded by nothing but the smell of strawberry cake, faraway guitars, and your windswept hair covered in grass, Jungkook really believes you might be right.

Jungkook finally feels like he’s finished moving into his new apartment. Despite being a twenty-something, he never realized that he didn’t actually own that much stuff, and moving states had taken less than a month. Jungkook had other, more pressing matters to worry about – like quitting his previous job, training his replacement, signing a new lease, and bidding farewell to his rather scary old landlady in LA. Jungkook couldn’t say he was very sorry to leave her.

His apartment in Upper West Side Manhattan is miles better than the cramped place he had called home for the past five years. Vogue really had gone all out fixing him up with a place. Jungkook’s favorite feature are the giant floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. He finds he can get used to this.

He was here now, on the first day at his new job, trying not to sweat through his cream dress shirt. His new team is unfamiliar to him and Jungkook isn’t an extrovert by nature, but he ignores his sweaty palms and tries to play nice.

“So, all I ask is that you give me a little bit of time to gain your trust,” he says, reciting the little speech he’d practiced on the flight a month ago. “I know that I’m new at this, but what I lack in experience, I make up for in cliches.” He gets a few scattered laughs out of that lame gag and sighs internally. “My door’s always open,” he adds. “Literally.” He gestures wildly to his office wall that’s made entirely out of glass, putting him on view to the rest of his team sitting in cubicles outside. “Thanks guys.”

There’s a scattered applause, a few shaken hands, and Jungkook smiles shyly. The crowd dissipates, leaving behind a man with curling blonde hair making his way toward him.

“Park Jimin, I work in marketing.” He introduces. Jungkook shakes his hand. He’s about to ask Park Jimin about his career when he sees you, wearing a navy dress and holding a stack of papers. Your hair is up again, this time in a no-nonsense ponytail.

“Oh, hey Jimin,” you say cheerfully and Jimin grins, exclaiming your name and giving you a hi-five. “Whatcha doing?”

“Sizing up the new guy,” Jimin stares at Jungkook from the corner of his eye. “You did good here. I could just eat him up.” Jungkook’s eyebrows disappear into the fringe of hair that falls over his forehead as he sees you trying to control your laughter. You pat Jimin on the butt with a fondness that isn’t missed by Jungkook.

“Go back to work Chim,” you say and Jimin shrugs and bounds off towards his office. Jungkook levels you with a look, eyebrows still raised, and you giggle. “You get used to him.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook says, picking up his iPad from his desk. “I have something to show you.”

“Show me?” You’re curious now as you walk into his office fully, still clutching your papers. He uses his tablet to switch the screen on the TV above his desk. It’s a small acoustic band, playing in Central Park.

“I tracked down the band that plays music in the North end of the park – the one we listened to that day that I decided to take this job,” Jungkook explains. “I’m thinking of using them somehow for my first project. I got in touch with the lead singer – we’re thinking of using them for guerilla advertising.”

“Taking something so pure and commercializing it?” You ask. “Knew I’d found the right guy.” Jungkook chuckles and watches you put down the stack of papers on his desk. “Anyway, here’s your contract. Sign it, and I will be out of here.” Jungkook fingers the front page hesitantly.

“A whole year,” he says wonderingly. “Wow.”

“Why do I feel like this is the first real commitment you’ve ever made?” Your hands are on your waist as you level him with a judgemental look on your face.

“Its not,” Jungkook argues, mildly offended. “I worked my last full-time job for two years. And fuck – I do regret that one.” He holds up two fingers to drive the point home.

“Do me a favour,” you sigh. “Don’t quit or get fired before this year’s up, otherwise I don’t get my bonus.”

“Wait, I can leave whenever I want? Then what’s the point of the contract?”

“Just sign the damn thing!” You watch as he groans and scribbles his signature at the bottom. “Nice doing business with you Jeon Jungkook,” You shake his hand vigorously. Jungkook watches you collect all the papers.

“Hey, I was thinking of maybe getting some lunch. Do you know a place?” He asks, checking his phone for the time. You stare at him.

“Are you… asking me out?” Jungkook blinks. What?

“Whoa, no,” he amends. “I’m just asking you to show me a restaurant.”

“I mean, I’m the only friend you have in New York,” you ramble on. “You don’t wanna complicate that.”

“I know,” Jungkook starts. “I’m not asking you out.” You ignore him, Of course you do.

“I mean, sure, we’d have fun, roll around, get into some erotic humiliation fantasy—” You’re wringing your hands. Jungkook thinks if he wasn’t sweating while giving his speech before, he’s definitely sweating now.

“I—Erotic?”

“—But it’ll all blow up in our faces, end very badly, and we’d never speak to each other—”

“Can you slow down for a second—”

“It’s just not a good idea Jungkook—”

“I’m not fucking asking you out, I swear to god!” Jungkook almost shouts, and you shut up. He watches your eyes go wide, and you bite your lip as if to hold back a sob. He winces inwardly.

“Okay,” you say, your voice unusually small. “You don’t like me like that, I get it. You don’t have to be so mean about it,” Your voice is trembling now, and you look down at your feet. Jungkook sputters, taking a step towards you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t--,” but he realizes that your voice wasn’t trembling from hurt, it was just you trying to keep your laughter in. You look up at him now, mirth swimming in your eyes and he knows he’s been had.

“God, you’re such a girl,” you grin. “Come on sister, it’s my treat.” Jungkook watches you turn on your heel and march out and wonders if there will ever come a day when he’ll have you all figured out.

You bring him to a brunch place at the corner of the block. It’s got a long French name Jungkook struggles to pronounce but he orders a large smoked salmon avocado toast while the two of you sit at a small table by the window.

“So, was it an easy move?” you ask, chopping your broccoli into tiny pieces before eating it.

“It was tough leaving my mom,” Jungkook offers. “My brother gave me some shit. But, uh, the timing was right,” He nods, as if satisfied with that answer. You’re watching him, a small smile on your face.

“An ex?” you ask. Jungkook winces, remembering that you’re far more astute than you let on. “I kinda got the vibe.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook answers, mouth full of salmon. “She’s great! Wants us to stay friends!” You make a gagging sound. “She’s also convinced she can cure me of my emotional unavailability.”

“You’re emotionally unavailable?” You ask laughing, and Jungkook nods vigorously. “Oh my God, I’m emotionally damaged. My ex was so kind to point that out when he cheated on me. I haven’t seen you at the meetings.”

“I’m done with the relationship thing,” He sighs, giving you his leftover broccoli, which you accept graciously.

“Girl, you are preaching to the congregation,” you cheer, raising your hands in agreement.

“Choir.”

“What?”

“‘Preaching to the choir’. You’re supposed to preach to the congregation. That’s the expression.” Jungkook takes a long swig of his hot chocolate.

“Did you understand what I was saying? Then don’t be a dick about it,” you smart and Jungkook laughs. He finds he does that a lot in your presence. “Anyway, I’m having some friends over tomorrow. Why don’t you come? You can meet some new people too.”

“I’m gonna have to check my schedule,” Jungkook says solemnly, pulling out a wad of cash to pay for his meal. “I’m really busy. I work at Vogue now,” you’re giggling. “It’s not just some little blog on the internet.” Your laughter drowns out everything else and Jungkook finds he likes being the one making you laugh.

Jungkook triple-checks the address you’ve texted him before knocking on the door labelled 2A. He hopes he’s picked up a decent enough wine as a housewarming gift. He’d even made sure to get the best alcohol content-to-cost ratio from the grocery store down the street from your place! He hasn’t even entered your apartment and he’s already sweating through his cardigan.

The door opens and it’s you, and this is the first time Jungkook sees you out of your usual business attire. Your hair is down, and you’re sporting skinny jeans and a tank top.

“Hey!” you say breathlessly. “You made it! C’mon!” He hands you the wine, which you graciously accept. You drag him into your living room and address the rather large gathering.

“Hey—HEY everybody! This here is Jungkook, he’s from LA!” There’s absolute crickets at your proclamation, and you roll your eyes. “He’s the reason I can afford all this beer.” You state plainly. At that, there’s a universal cheer that goes around the room.

Jungkook is generally wary of large crowds. Multiple strangers staring at him always makes him uncomfortable, but for some reason he finds himself blending in with your friends. Granted, he spends most of the evening with you playing wii bowling, jenga, and drunk card games with you and Jimin and two other friends – Taehyung and Namjoon.

The days turn to months just like this and Jungkook finds that life in New York is almost refreshing. It turns out he and Jimin have a lot in common, and that Jimin flirts incessantly with literally everyone he meets, not just him. After your party on that fateful day, he’s hit it off with Taehyung and Namjoon too. Taehyung’s a freelance artist, and Namjoon works in the music industry. He hangs out with you often too and finds that the two of you have easily become good friends. You don’t actually work for Vogue, working for a registered recruitment agency instead, so he doesn’t see you that often. He decides though, that this is a good thing. You’re definitely the one person he knows best in this city and he doesn’t want that becoming overcomplicated with having to see you as a colleague instead of a friend.

It is on a Friday night Jungkook finds himself dissolving in your extremely comfortable couch, after one too many beers, watching what he thinks is the worst romance film in existence. You’re totally enraptured though, a firm grip on your own drink.

“I swear all these movies have terrible music,” Jungkook mutters as the soundtrack crescendos and the female lead runs into the male lead’s arms in slow motion, fake tears staining her face.

“It’s so you know how to feel every single second,” you answer. Your voice is croaky from unshed tears as the female lead jumps into the male lead’s arms and he spins her round and round. Despite your newly found distaste for relationships, Jungkook has learned that you’re secretly a sucker for romance. He watches you as you mouth along to the dialogue.

“God, I wish my life were a movie sometimes,” you murmur, as the ending credits roll. “I’d always look good, and never have to go to the bathroom.” You turn to him abruptly. “And then, when I’m at my lowest point, some guy would chase me down the street, pour his heart out, and we’d kiss. Happily ever after.”

Jungkook groans, lowering himself further in your couch, chin now resting on his chest. You ignore him.

“Why don’t they ever make a movie about what happens after the big confession?”

“They do,” Jungkook replies instantly, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s called porn.” You slap his chest, sitting back comfortably next to him.

“God, I miss sex,” you say, your words slightly slurring together. The alcohol in your system has erased your filters, not that you had many in the first place. “Right? I mean, sometimes, you just need it.”

“There can never be just sex,” Jungkook mutters. “There’s always complications involved.”

“Yeah but why? What’s wrong with uncomplicated sex?”

“It’s womens’ fault,” Jungkook says and you sit up, affronted.

“Excuse me?”

“‘Hold me, let’s spend the rest of our lives together’” Jungkook mocks, making you scoff.

“As if men are any better. You’re all eyeing our pussies right from that first date.”

“I wish it wasn’t like that, y’know,” he continues. “It’s a physical act – a sport – if you will – like…. Bowling. Two people should be able to have sex like they’re going bowling.”

“For some weird ass reason, that made sense to me,” you say lazily. Jungkook laughs.

“Right, it’s just a sport. Maybe you shake hands at the end, and then get on with your life.” You nod. A comfortable silence follows. You pat him on his chest, small hands warm.

“More beer?” You’re downing yours. Jungkook nods sleepily and watches as you bend over to pick up the empty bottles and empty bags of chips from your floor and traipse over to your small kitchenette. You’re dressed in a simple tank and booty shorts and Jungkook can’t deny that, in your dimly lit apartment, your legs look good. He calls your name, and you look over at him.

“Let’s go bowling,” he says, tapping his foot. You blink at him in confusion. “Let’s have sex like we’re going bowling.” He repeats. You have the audacity to laugh out loud.

“You’re insane,” you tell him, walking back to the living room with more beer and a bowl of popcorn. Jungkook scowls and pulls himself up to sit up on your couch.

“Don’t laugh at me! This could be great. This could take all the weirdness out of it. We both want the same things.”

“We’ve been over this,” you say, tossing some popcorn in your mouth. “I don’t like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either,” he points out evenly. “That’s why this is perfect.” You chuckle.

“I don’t even know if I find you attractive!” you respond.

“That’s cute,” Jungkook says, standing up and bringing himself to his full height. You roll your eyes.

“Well, I do have a thing for jerks,” you mutter, which has Jungkook scoffing. “Do you even find me attractive?”

“That’s cute.” He repeats. You wave your hands and stand up in front of him.

“No, no, no,” you say. “Before you got to know my awesome personality – strictly physical – first impression of me?”

“This is just two people talking right? Sharing notes?” Jungkook affirms and you nod. “I liked your eyes – you have nice eyes.” He sighs. You’re looking at him, arms crossed.

“I liked your lips,” you offer. “Thought you might be a good kisser.”

“I am,” Jungkook admits solemnly, and you snort. “Your breasts,” he adds, tilting his chin towards your chest. You look down at it.

“What about them?”

“They intrigue me.”

“Aw, really?” you seem incredibly flattered. You give your breasts a congratulatory pat. “That’s a first – no ones ever called by boobs intriguing before. I liked your hands by the way. I’ve always got a thing for tattoos.” He watches you eye the ink on the back of his right hand, your gaze traveling up his arm where the tattoos disappear into the sleeves of his shirt.

“Mouth.” Jungkook responds quickly.

“Thighs.” You counter.

“Voice.”

“Butt.”

“Eyes.”

“You said that already,” you’re smiling now.

“I meant it,” Jungkook responds honestly. You’re looking at him now, eyes narrowed.

“You swear you don’t want anything from me other than sex?” You ask.

“You swear you don’t want anything from me other than sex?” he counters. “I know how you girls get.”

“Don’t be a pig.”

“A pig who’s got a cute butt.” He wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes.

“No relationship,” you state. Jungkook nods. “No emotions. Just sex.”

“Whatever happens,” he adds. “We stay friends.” You nod back at him. The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

“Swear?” you ask.

“Swear,” he states evenly. “So…. I guess we should just start?” You laugh nervously.

“Okay then, let’s go to my bedroom.”

“Wait – what’s wrong with the couch?” Jungkok gestures wildly at your sofa, which he has to admit, is stupid comfortable. “It’s less emotional.”

“The bedroom has better light,” you point out. “And since we’re just friends, I don’t have to be insecure about my body.” Jungkook blinks at you, doe eyes wide.

“Aw, cmon,” he says. “You’re beautiful. You have nothing to be insecure about!” You fix him with a glare.

“That’s way too emotionally supportive. You need to lock that down.” You jab his chest with a pointed finger.

“Uh… your ass is way too bony?” he tries, watching your behind as you saunter towards your bedroom.

“Much better!” comes your reply, and he grins. Following you into your room, he watches with slight amazement as you tug off your top. “My nipples are sensitive,” you tell him conversationally. “I don’t really care for dirty talk, and had I known this was gonna happen, I’d have shaved my legs this morning.” You stand before him topless and he shrugs.

“I enjoy dirty talk, I sneeze sometimes when I come, and the socks stay on during sex. It’s a weird feet thing, nothing you need to be worried about.” He’s pulled off his shirt and tossed it on top of yours.

“Wait, feet gross me out too, look at that,” You grin. “Meant to be.” You tug your booty shorts off and stand in front of him wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. He whistles and you roll your eyes.

“Can you please be a little less fuckboy about this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Girl, look what we about to do right now, and tell me this isn’t peak fuckboy behaviour,” he berates. You can’t argue.

“Fine, whatever, be a fratboy, but will you just start my tits are freezing—” But Jungkook doesn’t let you finish your sentence for he takes two strides towards you, cupping your face with his hands and smashing his lips down on yours. You make a muffled sound of surprise, but he ignores you, tilting his face to deepen the kiss. It takes you only a split second to reciprocate, and your hands travel up his sides to rest on his shoulders as you open up and let him explore your mouth.

Jungkook pushes you backwards without breaking the kiss until you’re falling on your bed. You scoot back until your back hits the headboard and you watch him as he stares at you, eyes dark and hair tousled. Without wasting any more time, Jungkook crawls over on all fours towards you. Giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, his tattooed hand travels down your neck, grazes over your shoulder, the underside of your breast, stomach and finally arriving to rest on your thigh. You watch him expectantly, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and he refuses to break eye contact with you s he tightens his grip on your thigh to yank you down so you’re lying down underneath him.

His lips latch onto your neck and you let out a whine that has blood rushing to his cock. He sucks a bruise right over your pulse before his hand comes up to lower the strap of your bra. Pulling the garment down, he lowers himself to press kisses and suck on your breast, before moving to the other side to repeat with the other one.

“Hurry up,” you murmur from under him, thighs rubbing against each other. Jungkook chuckles, and nibbles slightly on your nipple, drawing a whimper from you.

“Patience, princess. Good things come to those who wait,” his hand reaches down, and he strokes a single finger over your clothed core, and you shudder. “So wet already and I’ve barely done anything,” he notes, mouth still closed around your breast. Letting go with a slight plop, he looks at you hungrily. “Let me eat you out.”

You raise your eyebrows but do not object, and Jungkook moves down, pressing kisses to your navel, until he arrives between your thighs. Using both hands to spread your thighs apart, his gaze moves from you to your core. He buries his nose in your pussy without warning.

“You smell fucking amazing,” he tells you and your face heats up instantly, your arms coming up to cover your face in embarrassment.

“I told you, I don’t like dirty talk,” you say, your voice coming out in gasps. Jungkook smiles over your pussy, mouthing it over your underwear.

“Too bad,” he mutters against you, and your toes curl from the vibrations his voice causes through you. “I’m gonna tell you exactly what I want to do to you whether you like it or not.” Hooking a finger through your underwear, he moves it to the side. He licks a stripe up your folds, before burying his nose back into your pussy, tongue lapping at your juices. You’re writhing under him and he places his hands on your thighs to steady you. You’re gasping for air, little moans leaving your pretty pink lips.

Jungkook feels your hand tangle in his hair as he sloppily eats you out. You’re dripping on his tongue and he, in turn, is practically salivating at the taste of you. Your hand tightens its grip on his hair, and he feels you grind down on his tongue.

“O-oh my god,” you gasp. “Jungkook.” He pulls away from you and looks up at you. Your juices cover his lips and chin and you’re looking down at him, eyes blown out, hair in disarray.

“Yeah? You like that?” he groans out, and you nod desperately. “Like it when I fuck you with my tongue?”

“P-please,” you whisper, and he grins.

“Tell me what you want baby,” Your ears turn red at that and you look away. He climbs up to hover over your face and lowers his lips onto yours. His tongue is immediately in your mouth, its sloppy and wet and he knows you taste yourself on him. Its an exchange of spit mixed with your essence and when Jungkook pulls away, a string of saliva connects the two of you. He watches as it snaps and dribbles down the corner of your lips. You’re panting now. “Tell me.”

“Your fingers,” you mutter, clearly embarrassed. Jungkook’s smile widens.

“My fingers where?”

“C’mon Jeon, don’t be a dick.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” Jungkook answers noncommittally, pulling away to sit back on your bed. You moan and your hand covers his wrist in an attempt to stop him. He grins.

“Your fingers inside me.” You answer, face as red as a strawberry. Jungkook’s grin widens and he leans back down to place a small kiss on the corner of your lips. His hand travels back down to between your thighs and he strokes your folds with his index finger.

Without warning, he shoves two fingers in you, and you moan, small hands curling around his biceps, nails digging into his skin.  He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, and your hand tangles in his hair again. It’s quiet except for your gasps and moans and the sound of his fingers steadily pumping in and out of your pussy. He can feel that you’re near your high, so he carelessly shoves a third finger inside you, increasing his speed. Before you know it, you’re chasing your high, coming all around his fingers with a loud squelching sound and a gasp.

“Like music to my ears,” Jungkook hums, nudging his nose against your jaw. Your hands caress his chest, sides before one travels down to palm the tent in his jeans. Jungkook gasps, biting down on your shoulder. Boldened by his reaction, you twist your hips, so your knee rubs against his crotch and Jungkook freezes. You take this opportunity to flip him over, so you’re settled on top of him, your hair spilling around you. Jungkook lies back on your pillow, bringing his fingers that were just in you up to your mouth. You run your tongue along them, and he shoves them deep in your throat before pulling them out and spreading the mixture of saliva and your wetness across your face.

Your hands spread across his chest as you grind down on him and he groans.

“My turn,” you whisper, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Your hips are swirling over his crotch as your mouth moves from his lips to kiss his jaw, neck and then moving down to swirl your tongue over a perk nipple. You’ve undone his pants and he takes no time pushing them down. You palm him over his boxers before pulling them down too and letting his dick spring free. You suck in a breath, tongue hungrily swiping out to wet your lips.

You waste no time to take him in your mouth. Unlike Jungkook, you’re not a teaser and Jungkook throws his head back and groans as your lips wrap around his length. Your head bobs up and down between his legs and Jungkook closes his eyes and loses himself to the feeling. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping it tightly until his hips are out of control and he’s fucking up into your mouth. You let him, slackening your jaw, tongue lying flat against the underside of his dick. Jungkook gets high off of the sound of you gagging on his cock, spit dripping down him and onto your bedsheets. He’s so fucking close he’s seeing stars.

It takes all his self control to sit up and signal you to stop. You look at him, lips swollen and wet, a mixture of precum and saliva messily splayed across your face.

“No more,” he rasps, pulling you close and flipping you over so he’s on top again. “Need to be inside you right now. Condom?” You breathe out that you’re on the pill before smiling coyly up at him. Jungkook is painfully hard and wastes no time to slip inside of you. You let out your loudest moan yet, and he waits for you to get accustomed to his length in you.

“You can move,” you tell him, voice hoarse. Jungkook nods and pulls out only to slam right back in you with a groan. The first few strokes are long and languid until you’re pinching his nipple and motioning him to take you harder.

“I’m not a fucking porcelain doll,” you ground out. “Fuck me like you mean it Jeon.” Jungkook grits his teeth and pulls out of you completely. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he flips you over like a ragdoll so you’re lying on your stomach.

“Fine,” he grunts. “You’re such a brat.” You shiver at his tone and he’s gripping your ass to prop it up, pushing your face with one hand so you’re buried face down in your pillow.

Without warning he shoves himself back in you, one hand on your hip, the other still pushing your face into your mattress. He sets an unforgiving pace, ramming into you without pause until your muffled screams could be heard in your pillow.

“How’s that?” he grinds out, planting a smack on your ass as you moan. “That hard enough for you?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to scream. He shoves two fingers into your mouth, spanking your ass between thrusts until you’re smarting and red. Your garble moans around his fingers, drool lacing your pillow until he’s twisting his hand back in your hair and pulling you up flush against him. Grabbing one of your breasts he bites down on your shoulder.

“Fuck you feel so good around my cock,” he whispers in your ear and you shiver. Your ass is sore, but Jungkook shows no mercy, stroking it with his right hand and continuing to smack it. His hand moves around to rub over your clit and you almost fall over at the stimulation but his other hand clutching your breast keeps you upright. “You’re gonna cum now sweetheart? Milk my cock for all its worth?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook please,” you’re almost sobbing

“Come on baby, you can do it,” he croons, and you look over your shoulder at him and he wastes no time in closing the distance and planting his lips on yours. Without warning you’re coming, and that too all over Jungkook’s hand, dripping down your thighs and onto the bed. He’s not far behind, your convulsing pussy driving him over the edge before he’s releasing his load in you. You collapse on all fours in front of him as he pulls out.

“Damn,” he says, bringing his hand up to show you. “So, you’re a squirter, huh?”

“What?” your ears turn red as you look back at him. “Oh, my fucking god.” You watch as Jungkook licks his fingers clean without hesitation before collapsing on the bed next to you.

“Don’t tell me that was your first time squirting,” he grins. You look away in embarrassment, and he props himself up on his elbow, head resting on his hand. “Wow I’m just that good.”

“You’re such an ass,” you mutter. Jungkook cackles in delight.

You and Jungkook fall into a routine after that. There are multiple trysts, mostly at one of your apartments after work, a few in the bathroom of restaurants while you’re out with your friends, and one (1) time at work when you arrived for your weekly lunch date wearing the tiniest skirt Jungkook had ever fucking seen.

Sex with you is easy. Being friends with you is also easy. Jungkook can’t believe how simple you make his life. You’re a good friend, always willing to listen. He tells you things about his life back in LA, his ex and how thankful he was that he was finally out of a five-year relationship. You talk about your family, your sisters, your childhood. There are still lines the two of you don’t cross. Jungkook knows your last relationship left you scarred, but you never mention it and Jungkook never mentions his father. Some things are better left unsaid.

It isn’t until one day when you’ve dragged Jungkook out to Macy’s on the hunt for a new outfit you need to go meet a potential new recruit, that he manages to find the missing puzzle piece.

He’s sat through you trying out at least fifteen different shirts, all of which look the same to him, but you insist they’re not. It’s after you’ve finally picked out a dress shirt, some trousers and a new pair of “killin” shoes that the two of you collapse in a café across from the department store, your bags surrounding you.

“God, nothing feels better than a day full of shopping for shit,” you say, taking a huge sip out of your (soy) cappuccino. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I’ll show you exactly what’s better tonight” he mutters and its your turn to roll your eyes.

“Can you please keep it in your pants for a minute,” you groan. “I’m actually nervous about recruiting this guy.”

“Please,” Jungkook huffs. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re a natural!”

“Really?” You’re raising your eyebrows. “After the shit show you had to put up with?”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook pretends to be offended. “I’m here, aren’t I? You won me over.”

“Barely. For fucks sake you arrived to see me on the fucking baggage belt.” you huff, placing your head down on the table. Jungkook watches you, a twinge of sympathy running through him.

“Look, you are good at what you do. I don’t think I’m an easy person to convince, if I do say so myself,” he says, voice gentler. You look up at him slowly, figure still hunched. “Maybe you’re a little unorthodox but hey! We need someone like that. Just be yourself, you’re gonna be fine.”

“You think so?” you’re pouting, and Jungkook’s heart melts a little.

“100%”

You’re smiling faintly at him when the two of you hear your name being called. You freeze and look past Jungkook, a glassy look overtaking your eyes.

“It is you!” the voice comes closer and Jungkook turns around to look at what is possibly the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life. He’s tall, hair pushed back in a neat part, wearing a three-piece suit. In front of him, Jungkook feels like a giant toddler in his sweatpants and colorful hoodie and messy hair.

“Seokjin.” Your voice is hushed and oddly quiet, something Jungkook has never seen before. He eyes the two of you curiously.

“How have you been?” The man – Seokjin – asks. “It’s been forever.”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “It really has.” It’s awkward for a minute until Seokjin’s eyes land on Jungkook. His eyes travel to the cups of coffee in front of the two of you, and something flits across his expression.

“I’m sorry, are you two--,” he starts, and you’re rushing to correct him, but for some reason, Jungkook’s body moves on instinct.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says, getting up and offering a hand.

“Seokjin,” the man answers, taking it and shaking it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you.” There’s another beat of silence and then a girl is running toward you, calling Seokjin’s name. Seokjin freezes as the girl catches up to him, laying a hand on his shoulder to catch her breath. Jungkook feels you freeze up even more, if possible.

“Hi!” she says brightly, looking from Jungkook to you. “Friends of yours Jinnie?” she addresses the taller man. Jungkook doesn’t fail to notice that she’s just as beautiful as Seokjin. Pretty people really do stick together. You stand up abruptly behind Jungkook and he feels you clutch at the back of his hoodie, out of Seokjin’s gaze. Seokjin clears his throat.

“U-uhm, this is Joohyun,” he offers. “My fiancée.” At this point you’re tugging wildly at the back of Jungkook’s hoodie and he isn’t stupid. He gets the hint.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, plastering on his best fake-charming smile. Joohyun seems to buy it because she grins back. “But we really are in a rush. Places to be! Nice meeting you guys!” and he turns around without another word, grabs your hand in one of his and picks up your bags in a single fluid motion with his other. Then he’s pulling you out of there, away from the café, away from Seokjin and out into the busy street.

You walk behind him wordlessly, hand still clasped in his and he drags you up a few blocks until you’re at Bryant Park. The two of you find a bench and collapse in it, slightly out of breath.

“Thanks,” you whisper, after a while.

“No problem.” Jungkook replies.

“You’re not gonna ask?”

“Should I ask?” He turns to look at you. You chuckle weakly and lean back to stare up at the tall trees.

“My ex-boyfriend,” you say. “Obviously.” Jungkook had figured that but he nods along anyway. “He—uhm—cheated on me,” you continue and Jungkook suddenly feels white-hot rage curling inside him. You’d mentioned it before on the first day of his new job, at brunch, but it hadn’t registered until now. “With the girl we just met.”

“What the actual fuck.” He mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“He’s the reason why I can’t--,” you start, then stop. You take a deep breath before continuing. “Why I can’t get myself to enter into another relationship.” Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that but it doesn’t seem like you care. Now that you’re talking, the floodgates are open.

“We’d been together since college. I imagined we’d be endgame y’know? Everyone always told me how lucky I was to bag a man so attractive and smart and I felt lucky. Jin was always the best, the most caring, the most loving. We had some really great times together. But then… I don’t know… college ended and careers happened and I struggled to find a job straight out of university, while Seokjin comes from a long line of rich businessmen and he was already working for his dad’s company by graduation. We drifted after that. A part of me resented his privilege, I was envious of what he had. I took it out on him, and I guess he-he—”

“That does not give him the right to cheat on you.” Jungkook stops you. “I get being unhappy in relationships, I really do, but in no way is that the correct response.” Your eyes are glassy and full of unshed tears.

“She’s like him, y’know,” you continue, sniffing. “Beautiful, successful, I heard she owns a clothing line. Seeing them together it made me realize that I was the anomaly.”

“Don’t.” Jungkook says. “Don’t put yourself down. Look at you!” He gestures at you and you look up. “You’re smart, cute, successful. He’s trash for not recognizing that.”

“No, what I am is broken,” you give him a small, watery smile. “I haven’t been able to let anyone in since Seokjin and I broke almost a year ago.” Jungkook sighs and shuffles closer to you. Sniffling, you lean over to rest your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for today Kook,” you murmur against him. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t there.”

Jungkook sighs and leans over to kiss the top of your head lightly. The two of you sit there, amongst the chirping birds and trees, leaning on each other. Jungkook squeezes your hand and tries not to think of the unfamiliar feeling curling inside his stomach.

Things change after that. Jungkook finds that the two of you are almost domestic with each other. You stay over more often, and he finds you in his kitchen in the mornings, flipping pancakes wearing nothing but his button down. It’s so normal that Jungkook often has to take a step back and remember that the two of you are just friends. Seasons change from autumn into winter and a sheet of snow covers Manhattan.

“My sister’s in town,” Jungkook tells you one morning, offhandedly.

“Older or younger?” You’re making pancakes in his kitchen and you set down a plate of them in front of him before returning to make yourself some. Jungkook shakes the can of whipped cream next to him before squirting himself some.

“Older,” he grins. “She lives in LA with Dad and she’s in New York for business.” It’s the first time Jungkook has mentioned his father in front of you since the day the two of you met. You don’t prod. “My parents are separated,” he offers.

“I figured,” you shrug, sitting down across from him and refusing the can of whipped cream when he offers it. “Do you hate him or something?”

“What? No!” Jungkook laughs. “We just aren’t close that’s all. Everyone expects me to be this prodigy because of my Dad’s reputation, but I barely know the guy. Anyway, my sister wants to meet you.”

“Me?” You’re surprised.

“Yeah she wants to see who it was that convinced me to leave LA.”

“Oh, so that’s my reputation in the Jeon household now is it?” Jungkook gives you a cheeky grin. “How nerve-wracking—you sure you want me meeting your family? Makes us sound more than we are.”

“It’s not like that,” Jungkook argues, ignoring the faint twinge of disappointment somewhere deep within himself. “She’s only in town for three days. Come get some brunch with us tomorrow.”

“Fine. But you need to do something for me in return,” Your mouth is full of pancake and your hair is mussed but Jungkook smiles endearingly. “I have this… thing I got invited to tonight and I need you to be my date.”

“Are you sure? It makes us sound more than we are,” Jungkook throws your words back at you and you kick his shin under the table.

“Shut up, it’s my childhood friend’s Christmas party and our families are close so I have to go but I don’t have a plus-one and I need you there to keep me sane. Seokjin’s gonna be there.”

“You’re asking if I want to go with you,” he starts slowly. “To a Christmas party. As your date.”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug. “We go, drink at the open bar until we can’t see straight and then come home and you pound me into your tempur-pedic.”

“You’re disgusting,” he grins. “But, okay, I’m in--what the hell.”

“Do you have a tux?”

“Girl look who you speaking to,” he gestures at himself, sitting up straight and throwing his chest out. “Of fucking course, I have a tux.”

Wow, Jungkook thinks to himself that evening as you stand in your door in front of him. Long olive-green silk hugging every curve of your body, you grin up at him. You’d tamed your hair by pinning one side up, clutch in one hand, and feet in black pumps.

“Well?” you grin. Jungkook whistles, shoving his hands in his plain black tuxedo.

“Yeah well, you clean up nice too Jeon,” you pat him cheerfully on his chest, causing a warm feeling to flutter through him. “Let’s go do this thing.” You straighten his tie, and Jungkook swallows. He doesn’t know when exactly it happened, but over the course of time you really have him wrapped around your little finger.

The two of you uber down, your warm body next to his as you tell him some inconsequential story about your high school prom.

“We didn’t have prom at my school,” he tells you and you gape at him. “We had sports day though.”

“That is so sad.”

“Not really,” Jungkook shrugs. “Social gatherings are terrifying.”

“Never would’ve pegged you as the socially anxious type Jeon.”

“Well I am,” Jungkook rests his elbow on the car door, his chin in his hand to look outside. “I can’t believe I’m going to this rich people thing with you.”

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!” you send twin finger guns his way and he smiles wantonly.

“No seriously,” he says, looking at you, chin still balanced on his hand. “Thank you. You always manage to take the edge off and make things less intimidating and make me feel like I can step out of my comfort zone.” You blink at him, grin fading at his sincerity.

“What’re friends for, right?” you say, your voice quiet.

“Right,” he says back, just as quiet.

“You know,” you ramble on. “When I first saw you, you did totally strike me as a stereotypical fratboy. I was a little scared.”

“Of me?” Jungkook points at himself, surprised. You lean back in your seat and rest your head back.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “You reminded me of the guys I went to high school with. The jerks that ranked the girls by how fuckable they were and shoved kids into lockers and giggled at you as you tried to present your history project to the class.”

“Why didn’t you just beat them up?” Jungkook isn’t offended by your generalization. He knows what you mean. “The you I know would’ve stabbed someone’s eye out with a pencil.”

“I was different when I was sixteen,” you smile. “But you’re right, now I’m not beyond stabbing someone’s eyes out with a pencil. Anyway, I’m sorry for judging you.”

“It happens,” Jungkook shrugs but you shake your head vigorously.

“No, you’re sweet,” you continue. “I’m so happy we met. And that we’re friends now.”

“I’m glad too,” Jungkook grins, punching you lightly on your shoulder. “Are you sure you can do this? I saw how you were when you saw Seokjin that day.” You bite your lip and look out the window.

“I’ll be fine,” you say slowly. “I have you.” Jungkook blinks and gulps.

“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you—” he starts but the uber is arriving at the venue and you’re getting ready to step out of the car. Jungkook stares at the ceiling before getting himself out. Checking in your coats at the entrance, the two of you enter together.

You were right, Jungkook notes. This isn’t just some Christmas party. Lights sparkle down at him and the massive Christmas tree in front of him is decorated to the nines. The bar is sparkling with decorations, and the tables are decorated with fancy centerpieces and champagne flutes. People wearing black tie are mingling, men in tuxedos, women in floor length gowns.

“God,” you whisper next to him.

“You didn’t tell me you were also Richie Rich rich,” Jungkook whispers back and you jab him in the side with your elbow. “Oh my god you’re a trust fund baby! You’re Gossip Girl!”

“Oh my god shut up,” you’re giggling. “I’m the family’s black sheep, fortunately for you. I refused to major in what my parents wanted me to major in and that was apparently the final straw. I’m surprised Yoongi even bothered to invite me – we haven’t spoken in months. There he is now.”

A man shorter than Jungkook is making his way towards them. He’s got effortlessly tousled black hair and his ears are adorned with many earrings. His eyes flit lazily towards Jungkook before landing on you and he’s pulling you into a hug.

“Yoongi!” you say grinning, returning his embrace and he smiles, changing his entire demeanour. “How are you, this is amazing!”

“Thought I’d do something to get the old gang together,” he shrugs. “I’m happy you came.”

“This is Jungkook, we—uhm—worked together.”

“Ah one of her recruits huh?” Yoongi is shaking Jungkook’s hand. “Min Yoongi, pleasure to meet you. Please make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook is sure his palms are sweating again. He picks up a flute of champagne from a waiter passing by and takes a huge gulp. You and Yoongi exchange pleasantries for a little while longer and then he leaves the two of you to greet some other guests that are just arriving.

“Wanna go to the bar?” You’re pulling him in the direction of the alcohol before he can say yes. You wave down the bartender and order your drink and turn to Jungkook. “You okay?”

“Why? Is it obvious I’m freaking out?”

“You country bumpkins are so cute,” You pinch his cheek. “What were you trying to tell me in the cab?” Jungkook looks sideways at you, but sees who’s approaching and clears his throat.

Seokjin looks even better than Jungkook remembered, in a well-tailored suit, holding a glass of wine. You turn and freeze momentarily.

“Jin! Hey,” your voice is steady and Jungkook is almost proud of you.

“I’m glad you made it,” Seokjin mirrors Yoongi’s words from earlier. “You didn’t last year.”

“Yeah, well,” you say sheepishly. “There were just some people I couldn’t face last year.”

Ouch, Jungkook thinks, on Seokjin’s behalf. If Seokjin hears the slight bite in your tone, he pretends not to notice.

“You’re Jungkook, right?” Seokjin’s addressing Jungkook now. “From the mall.”

“Yeah, good to see you again man,” Jungkook smiles and the smile Seokjin gives him in return is incredibly genuine. Your hand is snaking down and gripping Jungkook’s, and he gives you a squeeze, something that doesn’t escape Seokjin.

“Are you two together?” he asks conversationally, and Jungkook is about to vehemently deny the question, when you squeeze his hand back.

“We are,” you answer, much to Jungkook’s shock. He almost chokes on the last of his champagne before he puts the empty glass down on the bar. “We met at work.” He’s trying to calm himself down, trying to stop that warm feeling bursting through him again. You talk to Seokjin for a few more minutes before he’s leaving the two of you to your own devices again.

“So, you beat me to what I wanted to tell you in the cab earlier,” Jungkook grins. You look up at him and he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “That I like you,”

“W-what’re you talking about?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Jungkook leans in and nudges his nose against the column of your throat.

“I meant what I said,” he mumbles, pressing kisses under your jaw. “I’m asking you out. Officially.”

“We’re in public,” you’re hissing, firm grip on his wandering hands. Jungkook grins and leans back against the bar, shoving both hands into the pockets of his trousers. “And you don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do,” he schools his expression into one of sincerity. “You’re awesome, I love spending time with you. We have a lot of fun. Am I wrong?”

“You’re just being reckless—”

“Believe me, I am a lot of things, and reckless isn’t one of them.” Jungkook frowns. “Do you not feel the same way? I just assumed—”

“No, no,” your eyes are wide, panicked. “I like you too Jungkook, of course I do.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” You’re looking at him, eyes wide and he watches your gaze flit past him over his shoulder. Raising his eyebrows, he turns his head over his shoulder to see what you’re staring at. His mouth forms a straight line when he realizes its not a what, but a who.

“Seokjin,” he says, the bitterness leaking into his voice. “You’re still in love with him. Of course, why didn’t I see it before.”

“No! Jungkook, that’s not—”

“So, bringing me here as your date, what you said just now to Seokjin – what was that? A ploy to make him jealous? Hoping he’d run back to you? What, you didn’t wanna show up alone in front of him, so I was your safe fallback?” Jungkook is seeing white, his fists clenched, embarrassment and humiliation washing through him. “I’m just a distraction to you.” Your bottom lip is trembling now and you’re vigorously shaking your head, but Jungkook feels so empty and suddenly finds he doesn’t care. “I’m done. I don’t need to set myself up to get hurt by coming in between whatever this is you have going on with that guy.” He’s pulling his tie loose.

“No, don’t leave,” you’re begging, small hands grasping his arm in a last-ditch attempt. Jungkook sighs, untangling himself from your hold. “Please, Jungkook, hear me out—”

“I hear you loud and clear,” he says, a sad smile breaking out onto his face. Pulling off his tie he undoes the first two buttons on his shirt, trying to breathe. Clenching his fist, he’s walking past you before stopping to turn and take one last look at you. “We’re still friends okay? I just need some time. And for the record, telling you this as a friend, you’ll never be free for as long as you’re seeking Seokjin’s—or anyone’s – validation.”

And then he’s walking out of there, away from you, from a life that never really belonged to him. All he wants to do is to get out of this stifling suit throw on his sweatpants, drown himself in an obscene amount of chocolate and play Overwatch all night.

“Slow down, you’re gonna throw up those eggs if you don’t slow down,” Jungkook’s sister chastises from across the table. “Jesus, you and Junghyun are both such fast eaters because you don’t chew. You’re gonna die early.”

“I’d like to die now,” Jungkook answers, his mouth full of medium-poached eggs and hollandaise.

“So, you got rejected, what’s the big deal?” She asks. “You’re a grown man. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move the fuck on.”

“Easy for you to say Miss-I’m-engaged-to-the-love-of-my-life” Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound bitter. “How am I even going to face her after all this. I’m an idiot.”

“You really are,” his sister responds, elbow resting on the table and chin balanced on that elbow. “You always like to think you’re this cool, collected, distant guy when in reality you’re a giant softie that believes in soulmates.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah,” she grins. “You do,” She sighs. “Look Jungkook, that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s endearing, and there’s nothing wrong with giving yourself completely to someone. Just make sure whoever you’re giving yourself to is worth it.”

“You don’t think she’s worth it?” Jungkook asks glumly.

“She’s confused, it seems. And that is never a good thing, not in relationships.”

“So, what do I do? I’m still gonna see her at work occasionally.”

“Don’t do anything. The ball’s in her court. You’ve bared yourself to her already and she can either accept that or reject it. And eventually, it’ll get easier to be around her. You might even go back to being friends. And try to move on, will you?”

“With whom?”

“I have someone at work I can introduce you to,” she hums. “If you’re willing.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook mutters. “How’s dad?” His sister stares at him, expression suddenly serious.

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s also why I’m here to see you.” She says quietly

Jungkook is avoiding you. You may not be the most intelligent person in any room, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. He hasn’t replied to any of your texts, dutifully turning his read receipts off so you don’t even know if he’s seen your messages. Whenever you drop by his work for one of your meetings, his office is always closed. You suspect Park Jimin has something to do with Jungkook knowing exactly when you’ll be by the company. When you corner Jimin about this though, he’s tight-lipped, always regarding you with a slightly judgemental stare. It’s clear where his alliance lies.

You could always drop by his place, but even you admit that’s bordering on being pushy. He did say he needed space but its almost been a month and you haven’t as much as seen his coconut head. The New Year passes just like that and you celebrate by finishing two entire bottles of wine by yourself and watching Love Actually for the twenty-seventh time. Yoongi invites you to his New Years’ party too but you decline, not wanting a reminder of what went down at his last bash. You also want nothing to do with Seokjin.

At first you were angry over what Jungkook had said to you before he’d left that party. But soon after, once you’d calmed down, you’d realized he was right. Seokjin was never going to look at you and it was foolish to wait around while he carried on with his life. You deserved better, and Jungkook had taught you that. The realization was oddly freeing.

More than anything, you miss your friend. The coffee dates, the weekly brunches, someone to watch cheesy movies with. And, you admit shamefully, you also mis his dick. Jungkook had been right, you should’ve given the two of you a chance.

It isn’t until a cold morning in February, a whole two and a half months after the entire fiasco, that you finally see Jungkook. He’s standing outside the building, winter coat on and a burgundy scarf around his neck. He looks out of character, dressed like a businessman instead of the usual college-boy sweatpants and baggy t-shirts that you’re used to seeing him in. His hair is longer than it was when you saw him last, curling slightly at the ends. It suits him. He’s chatting happily with Namjoon about something, waving his hands around descriptively, matching cups of coffees in their hands.

You hesitate to get out of your uber, but you’re late for your nine am. There’s no way to avoid him, with the two of them standing right in front of the entrance. You step out of the cab hesitatingly and Jungkook sees you right away. If he’s nervous about running into you, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his face softens into a small smile and he gives a small wave in greeting. You return his greeting shyly.

“Oh, hey,” Namjoon greets, as you approach the two of them slowly. “Got a meeting today?”

“Yeah,” you reply, eyes travelling from Jungkook to Namjoon. “I’m late.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it then,” there’s nothing sly in Namjoon’s tone, but the guy is like, insanely intelligent and you don’t doubt his intentions. “Gotta see Yoongi about this newest track I’ve been working on.”

Jungkook bids Namjoon goodbye before the two of you are making your way inside.

“How have you been?” you’re the first to break the silence. Jungkook takes a sip of his drink.

“Good,” he answers. “I finally beat Breath of the Wild.”

“Took you long enough,” you tease, and he chuckles. You follow him into the elevator and watch as he presses your floor for you, along with his. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I,” he clears his throat. “I went to LA to see my dad,” You whip your head to look at him. “He wasn’t well so I worked remotely for a month or so.” So, he was never actually avoiding you, he wasn’t even in the city! You feel oddly relieved.

“How is he?”

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. You can’t help but notice that his animated self from earlier is gone, replaced by someone more somber. “I spent Christmas there.” The elevator doors open at your floor and you step out.

“Listen Jungkook,” you say quickly turning around. He pauses, pressing the button to keep the doors open, and looks at you questioningly. “I’m sorry – for everything.”

“Don’t apologize for your feelings,” that small smile is back.

“No! I mean – I’d really like it if we can be friends again,” you’re panicking. “I’ve missed you.” He grins at that, reminding you of the Jungkook you’d been intimate with.

“I’ve missed you too,” he answers, and something in your chest lifts. “Of course, we’re still friends.”

“Okay—wanna get brunch with me this week? The usual place.”

“I’ll text you.” Is all he says before he lets the doors close, leaving you standing there, slightly breathless.

You spend the rest of your day with a bounce in your step.

Things return to normal after that – somewhat. You and Jungkook start hanging out again, but you can tell something is off. He’s cheerful as always, but he’s holding back. It’s obvious that whatever he offered you that day at Yoongi’s party is no longer on the table. He’s guarded, confides in you less, heart locked away in a place you can’t even begin to reach.

But he’s here, in your life, tangible and real, and you tell yourself that this is enough. Until one day, when it all comes crashing down.

You’re at his place, and he’s retreated back into the kitchen to get the two of you more beers. His phone lights up, vibrating on the coffee table in front of you. It’s not that you mean to pry, but your eyes unconsciously travel to the notification that’s blaring on his screen.

1 New Message Jieun: Hey! We still on for tomorrow night, right? Gonna wear that dress you like 😉

You swallow. Of course, he’s seeing someone. Everything makes sense – the reason he was able to have you back in his life was because he’d moved on and rightfully so. The two of you aren’t teenagers – you are adults, and he is well within his rights to find someone else when you’d so obviously rejected him. You wonder, why then, your chest aches.

Jungkook reappears, holding two bottles of beer in each hand. Placing them on the coffee table next to his phone, he offers you one, which you accept, plastering a grin on your face. He grabs one himself, picking up his phone and collapsing on the couch next to you to turn his attention back to the movie that the two of you had been watching. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he checks his messages, eyes lighting up, a smile on his face as he types up a response.

You spend the rest of the night holding in tears.

You invite Taehyung to yours the next day as a distraction. He insists on watching some documentary about gothic architecture, but you don’t mind. Whatever takes your mind off Jungkook. And what he might be doing right now.

“You know, you are insane,” Taehyung comments offhandedly.

“Excuse me?”

“The both of you,” he continues, lounging on your couch a little too comfortably. “Insanity.” You continue to stare at him, and he sighs. “You and Jeon.”

“What about Jungkook?”

“He’s in love with you,” Taehyung answers plainly, as though he’s telling you today’s weather forecast. Your stomach drops. “And you like him too, but are too dumb to admit it.” You scoff.

“He has a date tonight. That hardly screams ‘in love with me’” You point out. It’s Taehyung’s turn to scoff.

“Please,” he chuckles, arms coming up to rest behind his head. He sits like your dad. “It’s only his third date with that girl. It’s nothing serious.”

“And he’s not in love with me.”

“He is,” Taehyung insists. “Told me so himself. I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s none of my damn business but the two of you are so atrociously stupid—”

“He…told you?” you pause the documentary.

“Yes. Last week,” Taehyung is talking as though he hasn’t dropped the biggest bombshell on you. “But he’s putting himself out there because he thinks you don’t feel the same way. Frankly, I’m tired.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper. Taehyung checks his watch.

“Because, you still have time. Time to go get him.” You laugh.

“He’s not even gonna be back yet,” you point out. “Plus, what if I go there and he’s having her over? Third dates basically mean sex.”

“He’s not gonna sleep with her.” Taehyung tells you.

“Oh, and I assume he told you that too—”

“He did.”

“What sort of conversation were the two of you even having?” You’re incredibly confused

“A deep one,” Taehyung’s monotone voice is starting to irk you. “I took him out for tea. He’s home right now – by the way.”

“Why do you know so much Kim Taehyung?”

“It’s because I’m always minding my own, and vibing,” he informs you. “Go get your man, for fucks sake.” You’re already running around grabbing your keys and coat.

“Thanks Tae,” you mutter, giving the sleepy boy a kiss on the cheek. He smiles, leaning further back into your couch and turns his documentary back on as you rush out of your apartment.

There aren’t any ubers around your place at this time on a Friday night and you’re stuck taking the subway to Jungkook’s. Tapping your foot impatiently on the 4,5 line you rush out as soon as the train doors open, running to the building you know he lives in.

Your mind is blank as you stand outside his place and ring the doorbell. The faint music coming from the inside stops and you barely have time to second guess your choices before the door is opening and Jungkook is standing in front of you. Dressed in a crinkled dress shirt and black slacks, it looks like he got home not too long ago. He looks at you in surprise. Before he can open his mouth and ask why you’re standing on his doorstep wearing your sweatpants under your winter jacket looking haggard, you step forward, crushing your lips onto his.

His response isn’t immediate, you’ve caught him by surprise. But slowly he melts into the kiss, arms coming up to rest on your waist. You grasp wildly at the shirt on his shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?” he’s whispering, shutting the door behind you as you push him further into his apartment. “Know that I want more?”

“More sure than of anything else I’ve been in my life,” you whisper back, pulling away. “And whatever you want, I want it too. I want you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

“How did you know that I still wanted this?” he asks, before his face clears of the confusion and he’s grinning like he knows exactly how.

“We’re really gonna have to send Taehyung an expensive bottle of wine soon,” you grin back. “But first, I need you out of these pants.”

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook

[sdvharveybby]

How the Bachelors handle farm work

So, I got the inspiration of this from the parking lot of Walmart. Don’t ask- I don’t know.

Also, these are hella long but I just LOVED writing this. I really did- they all are just so cute. I hope y’all enjoy reading this!!

 Alex

Ever just wanted to move a straight up cow? Then boy do I have the man for you!!

Honestly, because Alex trains so much he has the stamina and strength of a bull. He will help you move anything you need him to for as long as you need him too. Hay bales? He’s got it. You need help hoeing, planting seeds, and watering? Literally no problem. Because he hasn’t been so big on book learning- he loves learning through his physical strength. He loves when you teach him the basics of crop growing and how to properly take care of animals, and once you teach him- you can just let him run wild. He’ll then realize how physically stressing your job is and will soon put ‘working on the farm’ as part of his regiment. (Plus seeing him chop down trees shirtless isn’t such a bad sight, heh heh.)

You soon realize that he just loves all the cows. He moo’s back to tease them almost all the time, but genuinely enjoys feeding them and giving them pats on the head. His favorite way of showing off to you is going, “Hey, honey!” when you turn around, you’re always surprised to see him just holding a calf in his arms. His beaming smile makes your heart flutter.

Alex is always willingly to help you out on the farm in any way he can- sometimes you don’t know if it’s because he loves you or it’s because he thinks of it as training. With time though, you see that it’s actually both. He loves when you ask him for help because he enjoys knowing that you depend on him too and showing off his muscles in some way just makes him smile. He loves making you laugh, so while you take care of the chickens- he likes to make funny voices for the cows.

His constant help on the farm and his drive to make you laugh, has you loving him even more.

Sam

Sam doesn’t know a whole lot about farming, but he absolutely loves working with the animals. I’d imagine goats would be his favorite because they’re just so weird. I mean, he’s fascinated by the fact that they just want to eat everything in sight- soley because they can and that they don’t know any better.

Another reason Sam loves working with the animals is that once he realizes they’re safe and relatively easy to handle- he brings Vincent along to show him how to pet and take care of the animals. Sometimes you’ll see Penny, Vincent, and Jas on a field trip to the farm so that Sam can actually be a guide to them (of course Jas also gets the opportunity of showing off what she knows since she lives on a farm herself.)

There is nothing more wholesome than seeing Sam’s goofy smile when working with the kids. He loves feeling like he’s a part of the children’s lives and enjoys teaching them lifelong lessons.

Although… Seeing him fighting the goats as they try and eat his shirt is one of the funniest parts of your day. You can’t help but laugh as you watch him tell the goats to, “F*CK OFF!” (only sometimes do you actually help him.)

Sebastian

Sebastian wasn’t to keen on helping you out on the farm when you first asked for his help. “I’ll just screw things up.” He kept saying to you, but one day, as a present you give him a pure black egg with freckles on it. You tell him that it’s a very special looking chicken that’s hard to obtain, but that when it grows up it’s black. Oh man. When you told him this, he was ALL about this chicken. He placed the egg in the incubator and every single day- he would check up on it until it hatched.

The chicken and him were absolutely inseparable. You’d find him talking to himself all throughout the day until you find out that he puts the little chick in his sweatshirt pocket and literally carries it around everywhere with him. He shows off his little chick to everyone he knows- what made the chicken and him even closer was that people were just as weirded out by the chicken as they were of Sebastian. “I want to call my chicken, Midnight” He explains one day, “I actually feel like Midnight understands me as much as you do.”

Sure, Sebastian wasn’t great help with any of the other tasks on the farm, but the fact that he gives you the biggest, goofiest looking smile whenever he holds Midnight- it makes it all worth it. You’re happy that you could give Sebastian something to look forward to each and every day. It’s not long until you have a pet bed in your own house- just for Midnight, but you can’t complain. Seeing Sebastian smile as often as he had been was enough for you.

Harvey

The physical work was not Harvey’s specialty. After trying to assign him different tasks- you figured that you should let Harvey do what he wanted to do. After all, you married the goofball because you enjoyed his independent and nurturing side. (Getting patched up or given a deep tissue massage after a long day was wonderful.)

It wasn’t until you saw him grumbling over some paperwork that you asked him what he was doing, “I know I don’t have the endurance and strength to help you out on the farm, but I wanted to help you out at least in some way.” When he hands you the papers- you find out that he had been tallying every single expense made on the farm. In short, he decided he wanted to handle all of the farms finances whilst also checking crop prices each season and dating them back through the years to see what crops made the most money. “Grow potatoes in Spring, blueberries in Summer, and cranberries in the Fall.” He started, “As you can see here-“ and that’s where you lost him. Going through all the numbers made your head spin, but the fact that he did this all on his own and that he wanted to do it gave you so much relief. After a flurry of kisses- he was happy to know that he was doing a good thing.

Although you also find that when you patch up the Greenhouse- he gets excited. You find out that the expansive farm was just overwhelming to him and he didn’t want to get sunburned or heat exhaustion (which happened to you often.) You give him the territory of the Greenhouse and tell him, “Just work on it on the days you want too. You’re not required to do anything.”

You soon find it extremely touching though when he routinely presents you with flowers that he grew himself. He explains that he only wanted the Greenhouse to gift you flowers all year long.

Elliot

Elliot finds the farm relaxing and fascinating. Having only lived on the beach- the farm was an entirely new territory that he got to explore. Every day, you’d find breakfast on the table with a note on it. You understood the general theme within each note being about ‘beauty’. He’d ask you the same question every day once you finished reading it, “Do you understand it yet?” What does he mean by ‘yet’, you wonder? Sheepishly you finally understood what every single note meant, and he was writing about you the whole time. When tiny snowflakes covered your hair in the Winter when you came in in the evening to how the sunlight glistened on your skin in the Summer. You finally get that his real fascination was watching and admiring you while you worked.

That’s not to say that he didn’t help you sometimes. Working on the farm humbled him greatly and inspired him to continuously write every single day. Before you knew it- he had multiple books published that became successful, all because he had you and your farm as inspiration.

His biggest physical help on the farm was taking care of the plants that grew each of the three seasons. He loved working on the farm with you because his enjoyment was discovering the new leaves that grew over night- or that a flower would bud on the potatoes. He was routinely in awe at the new discoveries in plant life that he couldn’t give it up. You would give him a section of the farm to take care of- only come to find out that when you finished your section, he was too distracted by about the third plant that you would have to finish it for him. He would always profusely apologize about it, but you found it touching that even something as simple as a plant was just so exciting to him.

Sometimes he looked like a little kid- mouth agape and eyes sparkling when he’d see a plant, he personally took care of growing bigger and bigger. As a gift, you gave him planters so he could better watch the plant life grow. His big, sweet smiles stick in your mind, making you smile too. He was just too cute.

Shane

You expected him to basically fight you over the chicken coop. But with everything that Shane had been through- you didn’t want to stand in the way of what made him happy. He complained about his body a lot, but you will never see this man run harder just to tell you that a new chick hatched overnight. You’d find yourself just watching him as he would chase the chickens around the pen only to then get swarmed by them- knocking him in on his ass every time. You would just laugh amongst all the bawking as he’d try to free himself. Now, he never hurt a chicken, and they’ve never hurt him- they just swarm him because they want too. It’s like one minute you’re watering your crops, just to turn and hear him scream as a mass of feathers cover him. You’d wash his clothes and routinely find feathers stuck in his pockets- you decided to collect them. One day you’ll make fun of him for it or cover the entire side of his bed with them. The feather prank was all in your hands.

Now, you thought he just had an affection for the birds until you get him to talk about them. Shane knows EVERYTHING about chickens- when’s the best time to feed them, what to feed them, how much to feed them, how to take care of their feathers, how to handle an egg-bound chicken, how to care for newly hatched chicks- this man knew everything. It wasn’t long until he knew the exact spot each chicken loved to be scratched at.  He’d explain that every chicken had a different spot that they loved being petted at- it was mind boggling.

Now Jas knew a whole lot about farming, but Shane would consistently bring her to the farm. She loved it too! Jas got to see Shane genuinely happy all the time and it brought her a lot of comfort to see him mess with the chickens (and the chickens mess with him back.) She was so happy to know that Shane was content and satisfied with his life now- instead of lonely and depressed. He expressed joy, and even to Jas- Shane was teaching her new things about chickens every time she came over. She’s smart, but there were things that he shows her that blows her mind.

Through it all- you knew Shane wouldn’t be big on helping out on the farm, but you knew if you could get him in the chicken coop, it would make him undeniably happy. That was enough for you- you didn’t marry him to make him work on the farm- you married him because of his goof ball smile and nerdy talk about chickens and it made you so so happy.

It also helped that he could take a joke and that you two could tease each other- filling his side of the bed with feathers cracked you up at the twisted face he gave. He was happy, and that made you happy.

#sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv alex #sdv #sdv elliot #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sdv farmer #harvey stardew valley #elliot stardew valley #sam stardew valley #sebastian stardew valley #alex stardew valley #shane stardew valley #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley shane #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley sam #stardew valley alex #stardew valley elliot #stardew harvey #stardew alex #stardew shane #stardew elliott #stardew sam #stardew farmer #stardew valley #farmer

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 294: A Half-Assed Escape

Previously on BnHA: Mirio was all “SURPRISE I’M BACK THANKS TO OUR RESIDENT SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO RECENTLY EARNED HER BACHELOR’S OF BEING A TOTAL BADASS.” Kacchan was all, “you know what, Dabi’s been trending long enough, time to remind the fandom what a real G looks like,” and he blasted his little bleeding body back into the fray and was all “FROM HERE ON OUT CALL ME DYNAMIGHT!!” Mirio was all, “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... oh, you’re serious,” and Kacchan was all “!!”, and so that’s the story of how my son got murdered twice in one day. Meanwhile in the Todoroki Drama Zone, Deku was all “STOP MURDERING MY FRIEND” and Dabi was all “THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS” and fandom had a whole big debate about Whether Or Not Dabi Trying To Murder Deku’s Friends And Mentors Is Any Of Deku’s Business, which went exactly how you think it went. Anyway, so then Deku yelled at Dabi, and Endeavor was all moved by his manly words and randomly went to go uppercut Machia in the chin. And, seeing as how the Momoserum finally chose that exact moment to kick in, Machia is now down for the count.

Today on BnHA: The Miriosquad handles the Nearly High End Noumus, freeing up Jeanist to jasphyxiate (okay that one doesn’t really work so well) the rest of the League. Compress is all “TIME FOR THIS MILD-MANNERED SIDE CHARACTER VILLAIN TO SHINE”, except that by “shine” what he actually means is “use his quirk to punch a literal hole right through his own ass to free himself.” The rest of the chapter is basically just a back and forth between him and Jeanist, with Jeanist trying to recapture him, and Compress repeatedly thwarting him by chopping more holes out of himself because HE’S FRESH OUT OF FUCKS, AND THE ONES AT THE STORE ARE ALL SOLD OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS. Anyway, so with Compress basically dying and all, Horikoshi is all “you know what that means”, and delivers a freshly-baked villain flashback revealing that Compress is a descendant of Harima Ouji, a.k.a. the Peerless Thief, a.k.a. some famous guy whom Gentle mentioned this one time for like two seconds back in the day. The chapter ends with Compress finally demasking himself and dumping Tomura back onto the ground, a.k.a. The Worst Possible Place For Tomura To Be. ( •﹏•)

WHY IS CRUST HERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD

-- OH WAIT, SHIT. OH

AIZAWAAAA you’re alive and receiving medical help thank GOD. HOW MANY EYES DO YOU HAVE. AND MIRKO!! HOW MANY LIMBS DO YOU HAVE, OMG

so is this Aizawa dreaming about Crust’s final moments, then?? jesus. with All Due Respect to Crust’s memory, does Aizawa not already have enough misplaced guilt on his conscience as it is?? “nope, we’re gonna keep piling it on. that’s all he is now. three limbs, an indeterminate number of eyes, sexy hair, and Guilt” well shit

motherfucker y’all really out here placing an oxygen mask on Gran Torino’s corpse. fucking shounen characters. each one comes with a lifetime warranty

DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI WHY DO YOU KEEP SHOWING THESE CLOSE-UPS OF HAWKS’S UNCONSCIOUS FACE ALL WHUMPED OUT AND EXHAUSTED. HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS ARE WE GOING TO GET. ARE YOU PLANNING ON KILLING ME WITH THE UPCOMING CONVALESCENCE ARC, BECAUSE IF SO, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN MAKE A WILL

for a moment I considered going back and checking my previous recaps to count how many times I’ve already made a joke about Dabi’s fire incinerating Hawks’s wings but not touching so much as a hair on his five o’clock shadow, so that I could calculate whether or not I could possibly get away with making that same joke one more time. but then I realized I could just do it in this kind of roundabout way I’m doing right now instead. so there you have it

FFFFFFFMT LADY AND MIDNIGHT NOOOOO

PLEASE BE ALIVE. PLEASE RESPECT THE SIGN ON THE FRONT OF THE BUILDING. THE ONE THAT SAYS “NO LADY CHARACTERS ALLOWED TO DIE”, WITH THE FINE PRINT AT THE BOTTOM “AT LEAST NOT UNTIL HORIKOSHI GIVES US LIKE TWENTY-SIX MORE OF THEM FIRST IF THAT’S THE WAY HE WANTS TO PLAY IT.” IT’S A GOOD SIGN, PLEASE RESPECT ITS WISHES!!

so anyway though, Jeanist is giving a speech about how god knows how many people all worked together to bring Machia down. and now RHA is getting in on those fabric puns too, I see. “A SINGLE STRAND MAY BE THIN BUT TOGETHER THEY FORM A STRONG ROPE” oh so you think you guys are funny eh? I’m a frayed knot

MEANWHILE EXCUSE ME BUT WHY ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING BLOOD, HOLY SHIT

fffffff. so much for him taking over as the Number One once all this is over. so let’s just recap real quick, because Horikoshi has long since made it clear that one of his plot goals for this arc is to wipe out every single member of the Billboard Top Ten. so how we doin?

Endeavor - was just figuratively eviscerated in front of the entire nation by his homicidal zombiepunk son. also burnt half to death and possibly down a lung. will almost certainly be forced to retire after this one way or the other

Hawks - lying prettily in a medical tent. wings status: gone. hair status: still perfect

Jeanist - WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS FINE BUT APPARENTLY HE’S OUT HERE DYING, JESUS CHRIST

Edgeshot - MIA, last seen fighting Re-Destro. I really want him to have kicked RD’s ass because fuck that guy, but realistically they probably fought to a draw at best

Mirko - alive but in critical condition and missing something like 1.5 limbs

Crust - dead, currently haunting Aizawa’s traumatized dreams. now he’s gonna be triggered the rest of his life by people giving him the thumbs up, THANKS A LOT

Kamui Woods - was set on fire which is His Weakness. thoughts and prayers

Wash - last seen floating hospital patients to safety as Tomura’s wave of decay descended towards him. probably dead ffff

Old Man Samurai - haven’t seen this fucker in a hot minute, who even knows where he’s wandered off to

Ryuukyuu - currently being treated for her wounds, looked pretty bad off. but it’s hard to tell how hurt she is since most of the injuries were acquired in her transformed state. SHE BETTER GET WELL SOON

anyways, so yeah. so much for the top ten. guess that’s another reason Horikoshi brought Mirio back now, huh

so there’s a big panel of everyone fighting the Noumu while Machia lies there all “blurgh.” good riddance my dude. it took like twenty chapters and a hundred people to stop this guy so I really fucking hope he stays down. you’ve had your fun

anyway so Jeanist is sending another steel thread towards Dabi! and he’s all “just a bit more!!” fklklj this is gonna go real well isn’t it

meanwhile Mirio’s fighting a Nearly High End with all of these weird rock formations jutting out of its skin. go on and kick his ass then, Mirio

“each of these guys is probably just as strong as the Noumu from Kyuushuu” hold on I thought Ujiko or Tomura or someone said that wasn’t the case? not that Mirio would know I suppose. anyways let’s just hope he’s wrong cuz if not these kids are probably screwed

kLSDKFHLSKHGLKLK OH MY GODDDD

IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH. THINKS THE NAME IS OUTRAGEOUS, CHECK. USES IT ANYWAY, CHECK. “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T BE SUPPORTIVE.” WHAT A CLASS ACT

AND KACCHAN IS RESPONDING WITH AS MUCH DIGNITY AS HE CAN MUSTER

WOW, SON. IT’S ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, OR SOMETHING!! although listen up, real talk, the fact that Kacchan of all people can’t muster the energy to yell at someone questioning his ability to kick ass is HIGHKEY troubling and we may be in need of an intervention here soon :/

now Jeanist is finally turning his attention to the League! was... was it not already on the League. omg

ACTUAL SCREAMING AHHHHHH FUCK FUCKLK LK AHHLKHKFFFF

hey so um. what the actual fucked up hell. my soul left my body. imagine if you saw the reflection of this panel on your bedroom window. you would never sleep again

OKAY RHA TRANSLATORS ARE YOU HAVING YOURSELF A LAUGH AGAIN

THIS CANNOT BE WHAT HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING RIGHT. BUT IT’S RIGHT IN THAT UNCANNY VALLEY OF NOT BEING QUITE SURE, THOUGH... (　ﾟдﾟ)

(ETA: just a next-day clarification here, apparently my sleep-deprived ADHD word-skipping brain completely skipped right over the “a” in that last panel, so what I read was, “and Shigaraki’s limp noodle.” so yeah, the moral of this story is always read the speech bubble carefully before you start making running jokes throughout the rest of your post, folks.)

oh wow he’s really freaking out lmao

to be fair though, I’d argue that Dabi has gotten pre-tty close at this point :’) thrilled for him, really I am

but anyway, well then figure something out you big dramatic robot-armed fiend. didn’t you just say you could touch your own ass? can you not just Compress yourself to break free?? does it not work on you? or would you be stuck afterwards lol

(ETA: I was picturing him compressing his entire body at once, not just chunks of it. ghhhlkh.)

um

holy shit Jeanist. are you stupidly trying to cut off their air, or are you going for more of a sleeper hold (jleeper hold??) thing instead. the latter would be way smarter and faster and probably safer as well just saying

but unless Spinner is just being super dramatic, it sure looks like he’s fucking strangling them djslkjlk. this will certainly cement his popularity among the villain stans. good thing you’re not running for office any time soon bud

anyway so I have no idea what these guys are trying to do now. what is this

do you even have till the count of 5 at this rate. I mean

OH MY GOODNESS

HE’S REALLY FUCKING DOING IT!! HE’S COMPRESSING HIS BUTT!! OMFG. TOMURA HIDE YOUR NOODLE!!!

WHAT THE FUCK

DID YOU COMPRESS A PIECE OF YOUR OWN ASS. FUCKING WHAT. PUT THIS MAN’S PICTURE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE WORD “LOYALTY”, HOLY CRAP

HOLY SHIT COMPRESS

“HOLY SHIT DID THAT GUY JUST PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH HIS OWN ASS IN ORDER TO SAVE HIS VILLAIN PALS. FUCK IT, HE DESERVES TO ESCAPE”

jeez, talk about... A HALF-ASSED ESCAPE ATTEMPT :D :D :D hahaha. but real talk though, Horikoshi has clearly never tried to leap twelve feet straight up in the air multiple times in succession with only half his glutes though. everyone, I regret to inform you that this panel right here on the left may be slightly unrealistic

also where the hell is he going to go?? did you pack a jetpack away in one of those little marbles sir. and what about Dabi?? and Skeptic too, I guess, but we don’t really care about Skeptic

(ETA: at this point I had to stop reading for about two hours because I had to go out and take care of something; that’s also why this is being posted later than usual lol. anyways so where were we.)

oh my lord

the existence of a translator’s note here implies that the earlier line about Compress being able to reach Tomura’s junk was not, in fact, ad-libbed. hmm. hmmmmmmmm

anyway so now he’s grabbing Compress again because OF COURSE HE IS, so now we’re right back to square one! except now Tomura and Spinner are secured inside of little marbles, and presumably Compress is the only one who can release them

oh nevermind he’s just maiming himself again instead, SHEESH

Skeptic a man is dying please have some goddamn respect

so, uh. is he gonna die, though??

I really can’t tell wtf is going on here, this is the most confusing the art has been in a while. Horikoshi put all of his spoons into that creepyass close-up panel earlier, that bastard

OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

DON’T FUCKING TELL ME THE “COMPRESS IS RELATED TO THIS THIEF GUY FROM OLDEN TIMES” THEORY IS ACTUALLY TRUE WHAAAAAAT. OH SHIT

so apparently Harima was a Robin Hood type guy who stole from... heroes?? wtf. are heroes the 1% in this scenario. y’all didn’t have any Fortune 500 CEOs to steal from?

THAT’S THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOU, OH SHIT. and in a related oh shit, the fact that we are getting a Compress flashback now of all times doesn’t bode super well for him. ffff

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKIS ARE STILL TODOROKI-ING

listen here boy if you touch one freaking hair on Shouto’s candy cane head I swear to god --

WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!!!

SHOUTO NOOOOOO. WTF YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONE GUY WHOSE WEAKNESS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FIRE. DABI YOU SHIT, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!! I’M PRINTING OUT A COPY OF THAT COMPRESS PANEL!!! KEEP AN EYE OUT ON THAT BEDROOM WINDOW YOU PUNK!!!

SO NOW POOR SHOUTO IS UNCONSCIOUS AND FALLING!! SOMEONE SAVE HIM!! WHO CATCHES THE CATCHER

COMPRESS LITERALLY HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS HAPPENING

PLEASE DON’T CALL TOMURA LEADER OF THE “PLF” YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU DO THAT. ARE YOU DYING. ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING HEAD NOW WTF

(ETA: “masks are removable, makeste” you know what it’s been a long day okay lmao. or I suppose Compress is really the one who is lmao.)

GASPPPPPP

okay. okay. looooool okay then

WHY WERE YOU COVERING THIS SEXY MOP OF HAIR UNDER THAT HOOD YOU TOOL. IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED SO GOOD WITH THE TOP HAT. I’M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW

as if it wasn’t enough for him to demask himself, he also had to get all shirtless and then do this weird attempt at a sexypose too huh

hard to say exactly how much of his torso is currently missing, but safe to say that’s proooooooobably not good. :///// fuck

on the other hand, Kacchan also has a torso hole and he’s still flying around like he just drank a dozen red bulls, so

this man lost his ass and he’s still out here monologuing like it’s the last two minutes of The Prestige. one might say he is monologuing his ass off

so he let Spinner and Tomura free, but is Dabi still trapped in his marble?? wasn’t he all on fire and stuff?? hopefully he can still turn off his quirk in there because if not that’s a pretty fucked up way to die. somewhere out there Snatch’s ghost is all “YEAH I’LL SAY.” oh how the turntables

last but not least, sooooooo. Tomura. back on the ground. that’s. um. ...shiiiiiiiit

#bnha 294 #mr. compress #...and actually that's pretty much it lol #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #sorry this is up later than usual (and mostly unedited as well) #just one of those days

[shipskicksandgiggles]

26. parkner, Harley saying that cause I can see him saying that...

oh god he so would, you're right. in fact i agreed so much that I almost left Peter out entirely BUT i fixed it

prompt: “How was I not the one that started gay drama at the family dinner? I’M THE GAY ONE.” (from this list)

Read He's my Cherry Pie here on ao3

~~~

None of them said anything until they hit the highway.

“That could have gone worse.”

“Shut up.”

“She’s right.”

“Not a word, Abigail.”

Peter popped his head over the console. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He checked the rear view mirror and let go of the wheel with one hand so he could reach back for Peter. “That was a disaster.”

“Oh yeah, you can say that again.”

“How was I not the one that started gay drama at the family dinner? I’M THE GAY ONE,” he burst out.

“I don’t know, but I would pay good money to have a picture of the look on Gramps’ face when you let him have it,” his mom finally gave into the cackles she’d been holding in since they left.

“I can’t go over there ever again. Oh my god, I’m never going to be able to look our grandparents in the eyes after today.”

“That’s going to make our next family reunion awkward,” she noted.

“Then I won’t go! Tell them I said hi or whatever, but I cannot deal with it.”

“You’re so over dramatic,” Abby flopped back into her seat with an eye roll.

“I’m an appropriate amount of dramatic considering the circumstances.”

~FOUR HOURS PRIOR~

“Mom, we’re gonna be late!” Harley checked his watch. “Mom!”

“Coming! Abs, I need you to hold onto the salad.”

“I got it!” Abbie bounded into the kitchen and grabbed the bowl in question from the fridge. “Is the car unlocked?”

“Harley has the keys since he’s driving,” their mother emphasized.

“And we could be on the road if you would hurry up,” he mocked. “I’ll leave without y’all, don’t test me.”

“No you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t survive Sunday dinner without me. Where’s Peter?” Abbie asked.

“Here, sorry! I almost forgot the pictures from New York. Harley, don’t forget to unlock the doors,” Peter reminded.

He hit the button as they disappeared out the back door. “Macy Jean!”

“Don’t you use my middle name, young man,” she chastised as she grabbed her purse. “I taught you that.”

“You sure did mama. Now if you don’t get in the car in the next 30 seconds, you’re calling Gramps to explain why you’re missing his world famous pot roast.”

“Oh, hush your mouth. Where’s my phone?”

“It’s in your hand. Come on,” he urged, half pushing her out of the house. “There’s gonna be traffic.”

~THREE HOURS PRIOR~

He’d hardly parked the car before Abbie was jumping out of the back seat.

“Is that my sweet granddaughter?”

“Nana!” she squealed, barely stopping to set down her dish as their grandmother enveloped her in a hug.

“Did you grow? Honey! Abigail grew!”

Gramps emerged from the house, apron secured around his waist. “Impossible,” he insisted. “I guess we’re going to have to measure you against the wall again,” he told Abbie, who laughed.

“I might be taller than Harley now.”

“You are not!” he yelled from where he was still unloading the trunk. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against your neighbor!”

“Guess we’ll have to check that too,” Gramps laughed. “I told you that Christian school education would do him some good, Macy.”

They exchanged a look. “Oh yeah, he’s a real smart kid alright,” she responded as Harley stifled a laugh.

“Well come on boy, let me look at you.” Gramps grasped him by the shoulders and looked him over. “I should have you working on the farm this summer, you’ve always been too skinny.”

“Oh, don’t listen to him dear,” Nana patted him on the cheek. “You’re perfectly handsome just the way you are.”

Harley leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Nana.”

“This one on the other hand,” she placed her hands on her hips and surveyed Peter, “you definitely could use a few summers working out here, city boy.”

“Sure I do, Mrs. Keener,” Peter responded, accepting her fussing with grace.

Satisfied that Peter would be able to handle himself, Harley turned back to his grandfather. “Need any help in the kitchen?”

“I could use an extra set of hands,” Gramps said. “That way the ladies can catch up.”

“Yes sir,” he saluted.

Peter excused himself to follow Harley’s mom and sister, citing May’s cooking skills as his reason to not accompany the two of them. Harley was secretly relieved, unsure of whether or not he would get along with his grandfather or not.

~TWO HOURS PRIOR~

He set a serving platter in the center of the table with a flourish as the others oh’d and ah’d over the food.

“I will tell you right now, this boy is going to make some woman very happy someday,” Gramps clapped him on the shoulder.

Harley snuck a look at Peter who smiled softly. He’d been briefed on the whole homophobic family situation before they left, but it still hurt that he couldn’t come out and say he already makes someone happy, and he loves him very much. “Just want to do my part, sir.”

“Atta boy.” He slapped his back one last time. “Does everyone have drinks? Ladies? Peter?”

They all nodded.

“That leaves you, Harley. What do you want? We’ve got lemonade, soda, beer, whatever you want.”

“I’m not 21 yet, Gramps. Soda’s fine if you have ginger-ale.”

“Coming right up.” He returned with the drink moments later, and sat down. “Shall we say grace?”

The whole family joined hands, and Harley muttered his way through the table prayer, only really chiming in on the ‘Amen’.

Once the food was distributed, conversation turned to how Peter’s vacation from the city was going. The few weeks he’d spent in Tennessee had made a noticeable difference, and the elder Keeners were excited to hear about how different New York was from their small towns.

~ONE HOUR PRIOR~

“Abby, honey? Come help me with the pie won’t you?” Nana asked.

Macy raised an eyebrow. “Did you make it?”

“Oh no, dear. Mrs. Carson from down the street will make them if you ask. I told her she should just quit her job and do that full time since she’s so good at it. Harley, you remember Mrs. Carson, don’t you? You went out with her daughter when you both stayed here a couple summers ago.”

Turns out that ginger-ale burns when it hits your nasal passages.

Violet Carson was a nice girl, he remembered. Kicked serious ass at pinball as he learned from days spent at the only arcade within 30 miles.

Her brother Victor was responsible for memories of late nights and humid kisses in a barn halfway between the two properties, along with scratches from the hay that he couldn’t explain when his grandmother put ointment on it.

He coughed violently. “I think that’s my cue to switch to water.”

They all laughed, oblivious to the blush on his cheeks. He breathed a sigh of relief when they let it go, and the pie was passed around.

“So, Harley,” his grandpa started. “Heard anything about colleges yet?”

“Actually, I do have some news.” He let the suspense hang in the air for a moment. “I got accepted to MIT.”

His whole family burst into cheers, and he got swept up in their joyous affection, exchanging hugs and kisses from all around, and smiling when he felt Peter squeeze his hand under the table.

It disappointed him that Gramps seemed more subdued than the rest of them.

“So you’re moving to Boston, huh? No way we can convince you to stay here and take over the family business?”

Harley frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not going to live forever,” he shrugged.

“Gramps, I’ve had my heart set on MIT since I was in grade school. What about Abbie?”

“Me?” she asked.

“It’s a man’s work,” he insisted. “Not to mention tradition. Keener men grow up, find a nice lady, and take over the farm.”

He took a steadying breath, determined not to break his heart by glancing at Peter. “I’ll come back to fix the tractors once in a while, but this is the top school in the country for both mechanical and astronautical engineering,” he said carefully. “This is a big deal.”

Gramps let out an exasperated sigh. “You just had to choose Tony Stark as an idol didn’t you?”

“Dad!” his mom shouted indignantly.

“Thou shalt have no idols before the Lord your God,” Harley quoted, disheartened.

“Jack,” his grandmother warned, “you know you’re exaggerating. Stop. This is good news.”

“You chose the most God forsaken man and modeled yourself after him, don’t lie to me boy.” His eyes never left Harley, and he squirmed uncomfortably.

“Tony Stark wasn’t a part of the astronautics program,” Harley argued uselessly.

“Wasn’t his partner involved in aeronautics at MIT though?” Macy asked absentmindedly. “That’s connected to astronautics right? I swear I saw an article the other day about him giving a seminar for the kids in one of those programs.”

There was a palpable change in the air as they all turned to look at her.

“Who gave a seminar?” Gramps asked slowly.

Oh no. Harley’s eyes snapped to Abbie’s, who was watching Peter, clearly ready to bolt if need be.

“Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes,” she answered like it was obvious.

“Right, the Iron Man and War Machine duo,” he scoffed. “Don’t you dare go following in those footsteps,” he pointed at Harley.

They hadn’t told them about Christmas of 2013. No one was planning on telling them about how Christmas of 2013 was connected to a guaranteed internship during his summers in the Northeast either. When they accepted Peter into their lives as Harley’s friend from New York, they hadn’t understood how they had met, but thankfully they hadn’t questioned it, blissfully unaware of everything Harley was hiding from them.

“I mean, that too, but they’re married.”

Had she been drinking? Harley examined her glass and wondered if the lemonade had been spiked.

The silence was back. Nana’s face had gone blank with shock, and Gramps’ jaw was working overtime trying to find the words.

Finally, he rounded on Harley. “So not only is the person you aspire to be a hedonistic narcissist, but also fucking queer?”

Thinking back on it, Harley never really liked stereotypical families all that much. He licked the last bit of pie from his fork. It was cherry. He really would have to call one of the Carsons before he went north, if only to thank them.

“You know, maybe I’m not trying to be Tony Stark.”

Gramps nodded once, satisfied with his response.

“Because to be completely honest, I think you just described me instead.”

His face turned an alarming shade of red, but Harley never broke his gaze.

“What did you just say?”

“I said,” Harley spoke with emphasis, just to make sure he heard, “you just described me.”

“You little brat. We sent you to the best schools just to make sure you didn’t turn out to be some heathen without morals.”

“True,” Harley admitted. “And those schools gave me the education I needed to think for myself, and the intelligence to get into one of the best schools in the whole country.”

“You’re going to hell!” he spat.

“Funny, I thought I was already there.”

“It’s against the Bible!”

Harley snorted. “No it’s not. You just read the homophobic adage from the 1940s. Whatever happened to ‘Love thy neighbor’?”

“How dare you-”

“Plus wasn’t that Jesus’ whole thing? Like giving money to the poor, healing the sick, showing compassion to the outcasts of society, that sort of thing? So if anything, you’re the one that’s going against God’s will right now.” Not that Harley would ever admit it, but it felt good, it felt so good to get this all out in the open.

“Don’t be mad when the life you planned for me backfired on you. It’s your own fault that you didn’t realize these were the exact results you should have expected in the first place.”

He got up and grabbed the car keys and Peter’s hand. Dinner was over.

Before he walked out the door, he paused and looked back.

“By the way, I hope the farm dies with you.”

The door slammed, and he was free.

~NOW~

“Dude, pardon my French, but that was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen,” Abbie told him. “Seriously, you should be proud.”

“She’s right, kiddo,” his mom said. “I would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes.”

“Thanks, but did you really have to say that Tony was married to a man?” Harley asked. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” Macy laughed. “I don’t know where my brain went, but I am so sorry I started a fight.”

Harley grinned. “Don’t be. I finished it, didn’t I?”

“You sure did babe,” Peter said, kissing his knuckles. “Don’t think I’m not telling Tony about this the second we have cell service though. He’s gonna love this.”

“And you all wonder why Christmas is my least favorite holiday,” Harley lamented. “I’m being betrayed by the people I love most.”

“Oh shut up you big baby,” Abbie teased. “Does this mean we never have to go to Sunday dinner again? Because I’m so down with never going to Sunday dinner with them again.”

Macy shook her head affectionately. “Sure. Who needs parents anyways when you’ve got your own little monsters to deal with?”

#parkner #harley keener x peter parker #harley keener #peter parker #homophobia #coming out #established relationship #mild angst #fluff #happy ending #keener family shenanigans #dylan laken tag #prompts

[hufflautia]

Among Us

Warning: Suggestive themes as the story progresses, but nothing explicit.

Summary: Hufflepuff and Slytherin are playing Among Us with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The grudge Slytherin holds against Gryffindor prevents him from pinpointing the true imposter in their midst. 

~

Emergency meeting!

Slytherin rests his knuckles against the cafeteria table as he leans forward.  

“Found Ravenclaw’s body in electrical,” he says solemnly. 

Gryffindor narrows his eyes. 

“You probably self-reported.” 

“Wha—did not!” 

He arches an eyebrow. “Then how did you find Raven?” 

“I was rerouting power to communications,” Slytherin retorts. His voice is deadly calm but he’s shooting daggers at him from across the table. 

HuffPuff has voted. 2 remaining. 

“Hold up,” Gryffindor folds his arms while eyeing Slytherin suspiciously, “how did you even know it was Ravenclaw’s body? Did you see her and think ‘Oh, look! It’s Ravenclaw, the innocent person I murdered a few minutes ago. Since no one found her yet, I’m gonna sit here for a bit and stare at her as a creepy person would. Aw geez! I should probably report the body now because someone might catch me’?” 

Slytherin scoffs. “That’s not how I talk—” 

“Any normal person would’ve seen the body and immediately reported it. They wouldn’t have time to identify who it was—” 

“I saw a flash of blue right before I reported,” he interrupts. “Any person with at least one brain cell would’ve known it was Ravenclaw. Besides, she’s the only person who isn’t here right now.” 

Gryffindor still looks unconvinced, and Slytherin rolls his eyes. 

“What, do you expect me to think it was Hufflepuff’s body? Hufflepuff,” he gestures, “who’s standing next to me right now with a yellow suit?”  

Gryffindor opens his mouth to respond when Hufflepuff, who has remained silent until now, speaks up. 

“Guys, stop arguing and just vote.” 

Slytherin purses his lips and looks like he wants to continue bantering with Gryffindor. He glances at Hufflepuff, who is intently staring at him. 

Please, her eyes seem to say. 

He swallows his anger, albeit reluctantly, and nods. 

Snek has voted. 1 remaining. 

Gryffinroar has voted. 0 remaining. 

No one was ejected. (Tie) 

Slytherin shoots one last withering look at Gryffindor before walking away. Both of them head off in opposite directions, too frustrated with each other to question why Hufflepuff voted so early. 

Ghost Ravenclaw watches as they leave the cafeteria. 

Y’all stupid, she sighs.

- 

Gryffindor is walking in the hallway leading to Storage. He turns the corner and doesn’t notice Hufflepuff, who’s loosely trailing him. She hurries to catch up with him when she is suddenly pulled into Admin. A hand clamps over her mouth before she could scream, and she struggles against the unknown figure. 

“It’s alright, it’s just me!”

She freezes—she knows that voice. They finally release her from their grip, and she spins around. 

“Slytherin,” she shouts in a whisper. “What the hell!” 

Slytherin suppresses a laugh. He’d probably earn a punch in the arm if he didn’t. 

“Did I startle you, my love?”

“Yes,” Hufflepuff glares. “You would be startled too if someone randomly grabbed you from behind.” 

“Well, you have nothing to fear,” he pulls her into a hug. “It’s only me.” 

Still irked, she stiffly leans into his embrace. However, it only takes a matter of seconds for her to give in, and she wraps her arms around him. 

Slytherin draws back far enough to look at her. 

“You have to be careful. Gryffindor is probably the imposter, so you should stay with me.” 

“Shouldn’t we call a meeting if he’s the imposter?” she says with a frown. 

“If we eject him now without any evidence, he’s gonna say we didn’t play fairly. Let’s stay together so we can catch him red-handed if he tries anything.”   

Her brows knit together, and she seems hesitant. Slytherin notices, but her reluctance disappears as quickly as it arrives. 

“Okay,” she takes his hand. “If you say so.” 

 He gives her a small smile before leading her to MedBay, where his next task is. After he submits his scan, he turns to face Hufflepuff. 

“My last task is in Shields and then I’m finished,” he says. “What about you?”  

“I’m already done.” 

“Ok, good. C’mon, let’s go before Gryffindor finds us.” 

He begins to head out. 

“Wait!” 

Hufflepuff steps between him and the exit. He stops, surprised. 

“Wait,” she says again but calmer this time. “Can we stay here for a bit?” 

“What for?” 

“...I wanna hang out with you.”

Slytherin looks at her like she grew two heads. 

“Why?” he asks. 

 “Why not,” she pouts. “Is it wrong to wish to spend time with you?” 

“Of course not, but now?” he arches an eyebrow. “When we’re so close to winning this thing?” 

“I know, I just…” 

He stares at her expectantly, waiting.

“...I miss you.” 

There is a mixed expression of amusement and confusion on his face. 

“You miss me,” he repeats. 

“I do. And I know it’s silly because you’re right here, but I feel like we barely get any alone time.” 

Slytherin cocks his head. 

“I think we get a fair amount of ‘alone time’ every now and then.” 

She crosses her arms. 

“Not really,” she replies sullenly. “There’s always some sort of interruption. Whether it be homework or Quidditch practice or just anything at all, something always seems to get in the way.”

He frowns. Now that he thinks about it, Hufflepuff makes a good point. When was the last time they were alone with no distractions whatsoever? 

“You’re right,” he takes her hands, “and I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.” 

A smile adorns her lips. 

“It’s okay. At least we’re alone now.” 

With the tip of her finger, she begins to draw lazy circles on his chest. 

“With no one else around,” she drawls. “No interruptions.” 

Slytherin can’t hide his grin as he hooks his forearm behind her waist to pull her closer.  

“I guess my task can wait.” 

Hufflepuff ends up pressed against the wall with Slytherin kissing her like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. She clutches his suit tightly as if she is worried he’ll let go, but he doesn’t. In fact, he isn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. 

He bites on her bottom lip and swipes his tongue over to soothe the sting, drawing a whimper from her. He pulls back, feeling a swell of pride when he sees her kiss-swollen lips.  

“Do you wanna stop?” he murmurs. 

Hufflepuff shakes her head and licks her lips, drawing his attention to them again. 

“I want you,” she whispers, brushing her thumb against his cheek. “Please.” 

Slytherin smirks. How could he refuse when she asked so nicely? 

-

Slytherin zips up his suit and turns to Hufflepuff, who just finished dressing. 

“How are you feeling?” he says, walking towards her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“Of course not,” she gives him a soft smile, “you could never hurt me.” 

 “I know,” he snakes an arm around her waist. “Just checking in.” 

“Well, I’m perfectly fine, so you have nothing to worry about,” she beams. 

Slytherin kisses the bridge of her nose when he feels the outline of something on her back. He scrunches his eyebrows together. 

“What’s that?” 

“What’s what?” 

“That thing in your suit.” 

Not waiting for a response, he slips his hand through the opening of her unzipped suit and begins feeling around for the object. 

Realization strikes her, and she tries to step back. 

“It’s nothing—” 

But it’s too late because Slytherin’s hand brushes against the handle of the item, and he tilts his head. 

“That’s weird,” he says. “It feels like a…” 

He pulls it out, and his eyes widen.  

“...knife.” 

Hufflepuff grabs the knife from him in a hurry and tucks it back into her suit, but there’s no use in trying to hide it. Slytherin has already seen the weapon. 

His eyes cloud with confusion. He staggers back when it finally clicks.  

“You’re the imposter.”  

She gulps, knowing that it’d be useless to try denying it. 

“I am,” she says quietly. 

Her heart aches—Slytherin looks even more betrayed at the confirmation. She swallows the lump in her throat. 

“If you hadn’t stopped me from going after Gryffindor,” she begins, “none of this would’ve happened. Believe me, I didn’t plan for things to go this way. I tried to go after Gryff instead, I even suggested ejecting him! But you wouldn’t let me, you kept…” She bites the inside of her cheek, finding it hard to speak under the scrutiny of his gaze. “...you kept getting in my way.” 

“So now it’s me,” he says in an icy voice. “It’s me who will die.” 

Hufflepuff winces at his words and droops her head in shame. Slytherin uses her brief lapse of concentration to make a run for the exit. He is startled when the doors lock on their own. 

“Even if you manage to make it out, you won’t be able to press the emergency button.”

Slytherin whirls around to face Hufflepuff, who approaches him slowly with a dismal expression. 

“I’ve initiated a reactor meltdown. Gryffindor isn’t gonna find you in time. He’s probably too busy trying to fix the sabotage.” 

His eyebrows furrow as he soaks in the truth of her words. 

“Even then,” she continues, “you need two players to do that.”   

Fuck. When did Hufflepuff get so sly? She always had the potential to be crafty, which is what drew Slytherin in when they first met in detention. He soon realized that though she can be sneaky at times, she values kindness above all else, and he finds that to be very endearing. But, in the few instances when she is sneaky, Slytherin wants nothing more than to pull her into an empty classroom and—

Stop! he mentally scolded himself. Why are you thinking about that when Hufflepuff is literally about to kill you right now?! But fuck, is she gonna look hot doing it—

His thoughts freeze when she draws out her knife. He backs away as she walks towards him.  

“Let me go,” he pleads. “I can help you win this. We can work together!” 

Hufflepuff shakes her head solemnly. 

“I know betraying Gryffindor sounds appealing to you. But you love winning even more. Who’s to say you won’t betray me?” 

He swallows with difficulty. She knows him too well. 

Dread runs through his veins when his back meets the wall. She corners him. Her face scrunches up like she’s racked with guilt for what she’s about to do. 

“I have to end this now,” she says, her voice thick. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”  

Slytherin stares into her eyes.

“Would you kill me, my love?” he whispers. 

Hufflepuff holds his gaze. 

“For victory? Without question.”  

Defeat. 

HuffPuff was The Imposter. 

Play Again? 

~ 

Inspired by @hogwartslastbraincells’s glorious incorrect quote post!  

Check out my masterlist! | Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3 If you prefer to stay anonymous, the anon option for asks is available!  

AUTHOR’S NOTE: 

I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Today’s my birthday, so I decided to post something. I had been meaning to write this for a long time, but I never got around to it until now and I’m quite proud of how it turned out! I like playing Among Us—I get so nervous when I’m the Imposter lmao

Here’s a deleted scene! Warning, it’s pretty nsfw. The scene is after huff is like “hey we’re alone”:  

He begins kissing every inch of her exposed skin while unzipping her suit. Her eyes flutter shut when his lips pay special attention to her neck, and she lets out a breathless moan. He suddenly freezes. 

“Why’d you stop?” she breathes.  

When he doesn’t respond, she opens her eyes to see that he’s staring at her body with a shocked expression—and it isn’t the good kind of shock. She looks down and realizes with horror that the knife she had hidden within her suit is now revealed. 

I changed this to what the scene is now because I wanted to keep it lowkey and make it less nsfw. I cut the official scene off with “How can he refuse when she asks so nicely?” so that there’s no explicit content and the gap between that line and the scene afterward suggests that they did the dirty. 

Speaking of explicit, I’m gonna write a “bonus” fic that fills in the blank of what happened. It’s litcherally just gonna be smut. So, the beginning of the fic will be similar to that of the deleted scene; the difference is that Slytherin doesn’t find the knife and they simply continue. I lowkey deleted that nsfw scene and created a gap so that I could write a bonus fic that goes in-depth. Didn’t wanna scar anyone who doesn’t wanna read smut so I purposefully left out what happened. Those who do want to see what happened after can read the bonus fic when I post it sometime in the future. 

I’m not sure what my schedule for fics will be. I’ll likely be studying for the AP exams, so I might just disappear for a bit. However, I have some ideas for drabbles and ficlets, and those types of fics usually don’t take me very long to write, so I might post them sometime in the future so that I’m not completely inactive. 

MEME TIME ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Also, this: 

HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS LMAO 

After seeing the incorrect quotes post and deciding to write a fic inspired by it, I planned on doing the color word thingie that @hogwartslastbraincells​ had done. I searched up the code for the hogwarts houses colors and tested it out in a draft, and I just left it there for future reference. I can not tell you how relieved I am to finally get rid of the draft after seeing it for so long. 

Well, that’s it for me. I don’t have much else to say other than the fact that today ez a happy day for me. Technically, today’s not my birthday because I’m writing this in advance, but the day that you’re reading this—if you’re reading this the day that I post—is indeed my birthday! Not sure what my plans for the day are (well, my family’s plans to be exact), but I’m sure they’ll be fun :D 

Thanks for reading! Until next time <3

Tags: @slytherpuff-shenanigans @axieleration @sunnniiee @determinedpines @zenobiagrace @asterinflower @cinnamon-roll-unicorn @mossy-axolotl @dumbbitch11 @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @notsowiseravenclaw  @arianatorpotterhead @luciferswife16 @walkinganomaly @asunshinepuff @lewispoolerpayton @adreameratdawn @thewitcheswords @oncergleekpotterhead @princessstoopid @stardustzainy @flvrqnce @multi-fandom-nutjob @eunnieah @iamahufflepuff @1hufflepuff @introvertedrae @princessstoopid @jasminedayz @magnoliamermaid @HOPEFUL-HUFFLEPUFF-PEEVES @peanut-in-the-goal @pufflehuff929 @sophiexteresa @da-fox-rangerrr @dawinehouse @shipping-book-keeper @xxavaloraxx @silverhetdanes @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @elegantcroissantplaidpony @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog @vickeyunicorn @arianatorpotterhead @hmilkwhoney @simpering-simpleton @grandcyclecreation @sweetinvisiblewriter @marvelenthusiast10 @mvlpksvthisht @qiaopa @beardedhumanoid @jadefox05 @justanotherperson @inkedintothepaper @minty-malfoy @trippy-morgan @fangirlgeekandfreak @boilyourteeth @absentmindeduniverse @colettedelaurel @halfelven1 @happy-puff @coloring-bud @in-love-with-remus-lupin @autumnpleaves @crakencc @flyme--tothemoon @hedgepuffgirl @littleemotionalpanda @pancakes-and-sugar @korra4321 @aquietkindofthunder @qixnsriess @porksoba @thatfann @hellounicorn @i-have-a-bad-feeling @aasa2102 @zuko-28 @annie-mcl @clementines-x @writtenfoxscreams @randomwriter23 @cryingabtwandavision @coolninjavoid @urfaveslytherin @malfoys-demigod @tumlbr-trasher @violayaxley @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @zainieees-stuff @milk-leaves @priii @capt-sparrow @blueberry-9-pancakes @stressy-depressy   

#among us #Hogwarts #harry potter #slytherpuff #hufferin #hufflepuff x slytherin #hufflepuff and slytherin relationship #hufflepuff #slytherin #hogwarts houses #slytherin x hufflepuff #hufflepuff-x-slytherin #slytherin-x-hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #slytherin and hufflepuff #hufflepuff and slytherin #harry potter oneshot #slytherpuff oneshot #slytherin and hufflepuff relationship #slytherpuff friendship #slytherin and hufflepuff friendship #harry potter fanfiction

[dreamties]

Slashers x S/O W/ Red Angel Wings

A/n- Y’know, when I first got this request I thought it was awfully specific, but after watching Carrie it’s making a lot more sense lol 

Decided to add a few other characters just for the heck of it! :)

Let’s just ignore the fact that wings probably don’t work like this,, at all. 

Characters: Carrie White, Billy/Stu, Norman Bates, Michael Myers, and The Lost Boys.

T/W: None that I know of- just let me know if you’d like me to add any! :)

Carrie White

You know Carrie from around school. About her overtly Christian mother, and how shy and secluded she was. And how strange and weird other people saw her. You never bought into that schoolwide belief- you just thought no one took the time to get to know her. 

(part of you related to that- though most people would have thought you were cool to start out with...and then have less than kind reactions when they saw what you were hiding)

You’d interacted with Carrie only a handful of times throughout your high school career- mostly in group projects, or letting her know she had dropped something, or simply trying to spark conversation. She had always been very nervous around you though- almost more so than others. (You’d later come to find out it was because she liked you)

It’s the first time you see each other alone- outside of class. It’s after class and Carrie’s been held behind- by one of her teachers asking her about this and that. While you’re hanging out at the back of the school, there’s no sports that day, so you don’t have to worry about any onlookers. Except Carrie, who decides to head out the back way. Thinking there would be less people she’d run into- less of a hassle.

And she doesn’t know what to do. 

The way you're framed in the light, you look like you're glowing. You look unreal, and so holy and beautiful. You’re so beautiful. but then she spots your wings. They're fitted tightly on your back, flitting open, and spreading out so beautifully- you're standing centered as they flare out. And she's shocked and unsure.

 Oh, she'd be mighty frightened.

 She's shaking and crying, and she's got her mama's voice running through her head. This is what happens when you don't follow the rules exactly. When you come into this world so impure.

And oh, your wings! She let's out a gasp, eyes widening. They're colored crimson- the Devil's color. And she's sure you've come down from the Heavens or- or come from down below...come to mock her. To punish her

She knows you know what she's done. What unknowing sins she's committed. [ my poor girl hasn’t actually done anything though :( ]

 And you look at her, confused. Then your eyes soften, and your wings slowly close behind you. You gently smile, “I’m not here to harm you, Carrie.”  

She begins to calm at the soft sound of your voice, and your pleasant aura. She’s still shaky all over, and part her says to run and hide- but you have your arms out wide, offering her to join you. And she gulps down nervously- maybe this was her accepting her fate. She slowly walks over to you, allowing you to wrap her into a hug. It’s feels so good to have your arms wrapped around her- she feels overwhelmed by the amount of positive emotions sprouting from your actions. You let her stay there, crying in your arms. “It’s okay, Carrie.”

After she gets passed the initial meeting, and the two of you start dating- which takes a lot of time for her to get used to you. Not because she doesn’t think you seem like a good person, but she’s skeptical, given how people have treated her in the past- plus she’s still dealing with the after effects from all the religious abuse with her mother :( 

She starts associating you (and your wings) as almost...protection!

Her favorite thing is to have your wings wrapped around her as she sleeps. She feels safe in them.

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Y’all meet at a Halloween party.

It’s Billy & Stu’s favorite holiday, and they always go all out for it! With the costumes, the decorations, etc- maybe even a bit of hidden bloody fun for just the two of them.

You’ve always kept your wings well hidden- folded against your back, underneath big coats. But tonight? Ohh, tonight! You’re able to have them out, allowing them a good stretch. When people ask, you can pass it off as just crazy good mechanisms.

And well, the boys see your “costume”, and they get wicked excited about it! They’ve never seen someone with a costume like this before- it’s so realistic! And the fact you chose blood red, over the standard angelic white? Very impressed by your talent and ideas.

They start asking all these questions about it, cause it’s like, legitimately one of the coolest costume they’ve ever seen. How can you not think giant wings- that move- aren’t cool?? 

But then like Stu excitedly asks if it would be okay to touch it- and you get oddly quiet after that one. “Well, they’re fragile, y’know?”

Stu pouts, “I can be careful.”

You give him a skeptical look, “I mean- just be careful, like you said.”

“Woah, they feel so real!” Oh, if he only knew. “Billy, ya gotta check this out!” He says, nearly shouting, as he nudges his shorter friend.

Billy rolls his eyes, but gives you a look to see if it’s alright. You simply nod, smiling at him- feeling more at ease. As Billy’s admiring them, and finally leans in to touch them- another guest at the party harshly bumps into you. The force of it accidentally knocking their drink out of their hands, drenching your shirt. 

“Aw shit,” you mumble to yourself. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to leave for the night.”

Stu frowns, not liking the idea of you leaving quite yet. He’d been enjoying your company quite a lot, and he’s certain that Billy did too (even if it didn’t seem like it). “You can borrow one of my shirts,” he all but blurts out.

You can’t help but laugh at his offer, “Are you sure?” Stu eagerly nods.

 You’re in Stu’s bedroom changing, and you’re about to slip on his sweater, when the door is knocked open (not on purpose, of course). “Dude!”

They quickly apologize, but then take notice of your wings- exposed as what they truly were. They stare in awe and bewilderment. You’re still freaked out, and yet still try joking your way out of the situation. “Just, really good prosthetics?” 

It takes a bit of explanation on your part, but the boys accept you for what you are pretty quickly. As strange as this all might be. Stu will have a lot of questions for you, and Billy’s somewhat unsure of it for a while. 

Established Relationship Fun:

Okay, okay!! Soft idea!! When cuddling, sometimes you’ll wrap your giant wings around the three of you. so warm and cuddly.

when watching horror movies together, Billy’s always intensely focused on the screen(almost scarily so- but then again this is one of the faces behind Ghostface we’re talking about so...not too surprising), to the blood and carnage. But he always finds his hand idly playing with your feathers, even if you have them closed behind you. He’d never admit it, but he finds them comforting and extremely calming. He can just forget about all his little problems, and just stroke your feathers (plus, you enjoy it when he does that!! And he likes that it makes you feel good!!)

Norman Bates 

You’d be really nervous at first to tell him, because early on in your friendship/relationship, he introduced you to his hobby- taxidermy. And it kind of scared you seeing your feathered friends in such a state. But...Norman would never harm you. 

(Now...his mother on the other hand? Would be more than willing to discard this freak of nature)

(Norman won’t let that happen to you though- he promises) 

Norman is such an absolute darling. He couldn’t judge a single soul for who or what they are- and yes, that does go for your winged-body, too.

He’d be extremely surprised and intrigued though- he’d be all blushy and happy though that you felt safe enough to tell him!

He finds your wings just absolutely gorgeous though.

He’ll often get sorta shy about handling your wings at all. But he’s very careful with them.

And if you get hurt, he’ll be more than glad to help you patch up (while also being upset you got hurt :( ) - since you can’t really,, go to hospitals at all. Who knows what the general public would do if they found out something like you existed.

On that note- Norman will always be there to help cheer you up when you feel bad about having them. Like, it’s gotta be strange being the only being with wings surrounded by humans- and only humans. Norman’s very good at cheering you up though! He’s very soft and sweet about it. One of the few times he’ll touch your wings. He treats them delicately, as if they’ll break upon his touch if he’s not careful enough. Presses gentle kisses to them, and reminding you how much he loves you.

Michael Myers

You meet Michael during one of his hunts.

You never bring out your wings, unless you absolutely have to.

He’s surprised and a bit confused when he sees you, standing in the streets, giant red wings splayed out. The street lights reflecting your wings into pools of red on the ground. He watches intently, as you push yourself into the air with a loud whoosh. He nearly startles.

But besides this initial reaction, he’s fairly indifferent.

Michael knows no human should have wings like that, or even wings at all. And part of him is curious to know more, so the next time he sees you, he doesn’t try to attack you.

The Fun Stuff??

Michael would definitely be a little rougher with your wings than some of the other slashers. 

Mostly because a part of him recognizes you’re not entirely human, so he equates that to you’ll be able to handle more.

He’s still pretty careful though- because he would never want to hurt his S/O.

Michael enjoys killing alone, and he sure doesn’t need protection- but sometimes, when you convince Michael to bring you along, he finds he doesn’t actually mind your presence there. He kind of enjoys it. And, again, he doesn’t need your protection- but you can’t help to be worried about him, okay? You’ll use your wings as a shield when his victims try fighting back. If you get hurt a bit? Then I guess Michael will just have to help you patch up afterwards.

The Lost Boys

Aww, they are so hyped about it!

Most of the other creatures they interact with are human, so it’s so cool to them when they find out you’re a fellow supernatural being! They’re not,,, entirely sure what you are (neither are you, tbh), but that’s okay.

They get to fly around with you, which they wouldn’t be able to do with you if their S/O was a human or some flightless supernatural being.

Paul would love playing with your wings!

I mean, they all do to some extent. But Paul will play with them whenever. Even if you’re out in public. Like,, if anyone sees your wings they have ways of dealing with that, y’know?

Y’all sleep in the same bed together- kind of just like,, a constant cuddle pile lol. And you don’t always do this, but when the boys are feeling especially in the mood for it (like,, maybe they’ve had a long night, or they just really need to be as close to you as they can)  and you’ll just outstretch your wings, covering the four of them. The soft, familiarity of your feathers calming even the rowdiest of the bunch

They accidentally stay out too late, and you’ll use your wings to help shade them from the sun, as you make your way back to the cave.

#slashers x reader #slasher #slashers #slashers x s/o #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #psycho #norman bates #norman bates x reader #norman bates x s/o #michael myers x reader #michael myers x s/o #poly ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface x reader #ghostface x s/o #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x s/o #stu macher x s/o #carrie white x reader #carrie #carrie white x s/o #reblogs are appreciated !! #requests are OPEN

[azucanela]

HOLDING YOUR DRINK [GENDER NEUTRAL HEADCANNONS]

FT. AKAASHI KEIJI, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, TSUKISHIMA KEI

HAIKYUU!! MASTERLIST | 1K CELEBRATION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: In which Y/N needs someone to hold their drink. 

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, mild violence, based on the tik tok trend, one curse word, nothing explicitly mentioned but be weary of the implications of drug use and such [lmk if there are any others i should include]

A/N: this is tik tok’s fault but yeah kjashdkjash

AKAASHI KEIJI

HEADCANNONS

ah. sweet, sweet, pretty boy akaashi

always pretty, but sweet? haha... thats about to change.

this is probably bokuto’s fault, akaashi feels the need to supervise him though, especially after that one time he left him unattended at a party and he jumped off the roof into the pool and nearly drowned because he forgot he could swim

yeah.

akaashi isn’t one for pda aside from the basic stuff like hand holding and maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek and he knows you are perfectly independent and thats all good and dandy, but even when hes being social and talking to his friends he still has one eye on you and one eye on bokuto

when you finally make your way over to him, asking him to hold your drink while you use the restroom, he simply nods to you, takes your drink in one hand, and covers it with the other, nonchalantly.

to say that akaashi, your boyfriend, is shocked when a random person comes up to him claiming to be your boyfriend comes up to him and asking for your drink, would be an understatement

almost instantly he calls out, “bokuto.” his voice is loud and firm enough that bokuto is looking in his direction almost instantly, ceasing his dancing on top of a table. when akaashi waves him over, he gives him a look of confusion but ends up coming over to where akaashi and this stranger is

and he enters the conversation hearing the stranger say, “im their boyfriend and they asked me to get their drink now hand it over.”

bokuto, naturally, is confused goes to say, “wait i thought y/n was—”

“bokuto.” akaashi silences him with a look, extending the hand with your drink to bokuto, much to the chagrin of the stranger and only serving to further confuse bokuto, though he accepts the drink nonetheless.

akaashi wordlessly takes bokutos freehand and places it on top of the drink to cover the top, before turning to the guy, who had started complaining

and then punching him in the face

never in his life could bokuto recall a time in which he was scared of akaashi

until now

akaashi turns back around to bokuto, taking your drink from his hand and shielding it once more, as though he DIDN’T just resort to violence. 

you’ll never know this happened until one day someone talks about how akaashi is the calmest and kindest person ever and bokuto is like HA REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU PUNCHED THAT GUY CLAIMING TO BE Y/N’S BOYFRIEND IN THE FACE?

gosh darn bokuto that was supposed to be a SECRET you SNITCH

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

HEADCANNONS

HASDHJGAD

THESE PPL GOTTA BE DUMB TO EVEN TRY LMAO

oikawa probably dragged iwaizumi to another party or something and iwa-chan over here was like bruh there is no way in hell that i am the only person that is going to be sober while dealing with a DRUNK oikawa, thats too much to handle alone

so if oikawa doesn’t make you go, then iwaizumi will, for his sanity please agree to go. he’d never force you but PLEASE, he can’t do this alone.

honestly iwaizumi is the perfect person to hold your drink ngl, he’s definitely sober at whatever party he does to, not the type to drink your drink on accident or on purpose, our boy iwa is perfect per usual

you probably tell him you gotta use the bathroom and ask him to hold you’re drink and he’s like, “yeah, of course. take your time, i got it.” and then you leave, he is now standing alone, leaning against a wall. he’s holding your drink, with his palm covering the top while scrolling through his phone with his freehand AND watching oikawa to ensure he doesn’t accidentally decapitate himself because iwa MULTITASKS

a few people probably try to hit on him and he’s like no <3 im in a committed relationship have a nice day <3 

and then some random guy approaches

now iwaizumi is a very intimidating person so im shocked this person had the BALLS to even try but they start spewing nonsense about how you told them to come retrieve you drink from him 

at some point the guy probably implies that you’ll be going home with him and thats when iwaizumi sees oikawa passing by, releasing a laugh before calling out for Oikawa, “hey! shittykawa come here!”

oikawa is pouting but he comes over and sees the guy and is like, “oh whos this iwa chan?

and iwaizumi is laughing again as he gestures to the guy and goes, “apparently the guy whos taking y/n home.”

and then he goes, “do me a favor and hold this oikawa.” and oikawa is handed your drink, something that raises questions in him because why iwa chan?

he doesn’t have time to ask of course, because iwaizumi has already rammed his fist into the stranger’s face, effectively knocking him into the floor. ah the power of the ace of aoba johsai :)

he definitely would’ve kept going, threatening the guy as he wrecked his face until the message got through his thick skull, had you not arrived and witnessed the mans bloody nose, stopping iwaizumi from continuing

“he’s not worth it.”

“no, he’s not. but you are.”

i am in love with iwaizumi lol

anywho

you’re drink is very safe with the one and only iwaizumi hajime. 

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

HEADCANNONS

IM CANT BREATHE THIS MANS

y’all are visiting home since you’ve been off at uni for quite some time now, the gang is back together, daichi, asahi, kiyoko and a few others y’all met through volleyball in high school

you and suga have probably been in a relationship since you left high school, because it took y’all three years to figure yourselves out. its basically just reminding each other to ya know... take care of yourself mentally and physically

and of course, now that you’re all of age, you go to a club, maybe a college party that a friend of a friend is having

regardless, suga is always going to have an eye on you, he’s gonna know your exact location at all times. though he isn’t going to follow you around or anything, everyone once in a while he’ll drop by, hand on the small of your back while you talk to some old friends—or new ones idk maybe you’re an extrovert. he’s checking on you though! he asks if you’ve eaten, have you been drinking water, is there anything you need, are you feeing okay?

then he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and leave to go hang out with daichi and suga, they’re all just sitting on the couch, maybe with some new friends too, maybe with old ones from his karasuno days 

you come over, all like, “babe would you mind holding my drink while i go to the bathroom?”

he’s like yes ofc ofc, and he takes your drink, probably sits with his elbow resting on his knee, holding the drink between his legs with his other hand over the top of the drink. he’s pretty subtle about it, you wouldn’t notice as he just nonchalantly takes the drink from you and carries on the conversation that there’s a small furrow in his brow because why is the world like this, you shouldn’t need someone to hold your drink

everyone would honestly forget the drink isn’t his

now if someone happened to come over claiming to be your friend or maybe even a potential hook up— something sugawara would laugh at as your boyfriend, probably pretending to be intrigued by the idea before revealing who he is — well let me just say... 

a lot of people forget that out lovely mom friend and resident king, sugawara koushi, is also so very very very chaotic person.

which is why i KNOW when you hand sugawara that drink, if anyone even TRIES to take it from him, to ask him for it claiming you sent them, he will bark. suga WILL bark, he learnt how to just for this situation. he will also hiss. 

moral of the story: i trust sugawara koushi with my drink

TSUKISHIMA KEI 

HEADCANNONS

rip to whoever thought TRYING was a good idea

anywho

tsukishima did not want to go to this party, you probably dragged him to said party, and he only went because its you that dragged him to the party. 

he’s probably vibing alone in a corner or something, maybe engaging in conversation on occasion if someone he tolerates happens to be at the party, otherwise he’s stuck to you like glue, just following you around, arm over your shoulder, shameless pda as he wraps his arms around you and lays his head in the crook of your neck as you talk to your friends

then you’re like lmao babe free me i need to use the bathroom, also watch my drink, and he’s like okay FINE be that, and he takes your drink and watches as you make your way through the crowd of people

he’ll probably wait by the bathroom for your return because ew people he doesn’t want to have to socialize— especially not alone. and if anyone tries to socialize, hit on him, anything, he’s really just gonna straight up make it clear that he is not in the mood

it doesn’t really occur to him to cover the drink until some random person comes up to him

claiming to be a friend of yours and having come to collect your drink for you

there are several issues here, first of all, tsukishima was fairly sure he knew all your friends and he did not recognize this stranger at all, and he was pretty sure if he asked their name he wouldn’t recognize that either

secondly, tsukishima knows you would’ve come to get not only your drink but him because he made it very clear that if you abandon him at the party to fend for his own he would be rather unhappy

so when tsukishima questions the person some more and realizes his suspicions are correct, they are in fact; a liar. he laughs. he genuinely laughs because wow YOU THOUGHT you could fool him?

idiot.

he’s covering your drink with his palm— because he isn’t going to set it down? that’s just plain dumb, and tsukishima isn’t dumb. no, he’s covering it with his palm, and then using his free hand to grab this stranger by the neck and slam them into the wall he had just been leaning on because he needs to make it very clear that lmao this is NOT okay :D

this guys feet almost lift off the ground but tsukishima probably towers over the stranger because he’s a tall guy, and suddenly he’s threatening them, telling them that if they ever try something like that again they won’t be leaving the party.

“tsukki?”

hey look its you! 

tsukishima offers the strange one final, warning of a smile, before patting their shoulder awkwardly and stepping away from them to turn to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder before nonchalantly just saying, “lets go. this is lame. oh— and here’s your drink.”

tags:

@therainroguefanfiction​ @beifongsss​[girl idk if you even asked to be here but like now you are bc i forgot akjshdsajkdbs oops] @iwaizoom​ @shawkneecaps​

#tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #kei x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #koushi x reader #koshi x reader #koushi sugawara x reader #koshi sugawara x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #keiji x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #sugawara #sugawara koushi #akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! x reader

[hopemakesstuff]

Protecting Assets

Hey y’all so uhhh I don’t normally do this kind of thing but a couple of my friends and I have been on a major Danganronpa kick these past few months since one friend in particular just recently got in the series, and part of that major kick has been discussing various AUs (mostly of the G/t variety).

One AU in particular that we’ve all latched onto involves sizeshifter!Makoto, wherein one Makoto Naegi has the ability to alter his size somewhat at will, and the various shenanigans that ensue as a result of him trying to keep that ability a secret from his peers. 

So anyway here’s a little fic I wrote based on some various brainstorming we’ve come up with. 

A bit of helpful background info before I jump in: 

Makoto can shrink or grow mostly at will. His abilities are sometimes influenced by his emotional state or physical well-being. (i.e.: he shrinks if he doesn’t get enough sleep or eat enough.) It’s basically a way for his body to conserve energy. 

Makoto’s clothes shrink or grow with him accordingly. Because this is fiction and I do what I want. (Let’s just say his clothes are made from a special kind of material or something idk)

I don’t really have a specific time in mind for when this particular fic takes place, but definitely after the first murder. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ 

Makoto’s return to consciousness was a slow one. His senses came back to him gradually, starting with the feeling of soft fabric cocooning him on all sides. It honestly took him a moment to even realize that his eyes were open, given how dark his surroundings were—almost pitch black, save for a thin line of light peeking in overhead. 

His first guess was that he’d probably gotten tangled up in his bedsheets, but… the longer he sat there, the more that didn’t seem quite right. Instead of a mattress beneath him, the only firm surface he could really feel was a wall on his left side. At least, he was pretty sure it was a wall.

Maybe he was laying on some kind of hammock? Of course, that only begged the question of where he was, and how he’d gotten there in the first place. Surely he wasn’t in his dorm room…

Well, wherever he was, it was quiet. Peaceful, even. The faint hum of the air conditioning was the most prominent noise, but he was pretty sure he could hear someone breathing as well. Aside from that, the only other sound Makoto could make out was the occasional turning of a page, as if someone was looking through a book.

He wasn’t alone. 

The desire for answers only grew more urgent as that realization came to him. He obviously wasn’t going to get those answers if he just kept laying around, though. 

Trying to find any decent sort of foothold was a challenge, but Makoto was eventually able to pull himself up to a standing position as he clung to a small portion of the fabric. Then came the process of actually trying to climb his way up toward the opening above him. It took a considerable amount of effort, but after a few moments, he managed to pull it off. 

Poking his head out, the first thing that caught his eye was the array of bookshelves lining the wall just ahead of him, all crammed to maximum capacity.

The library. 

What was he doing in the library?

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” 

Makoto let out a rather undignified yelp in response, nearly losing his grip on the fabric in the process, but it wasn’t necessarily the suddenness of the voice that had startled him. Part of it had to do with the familiarity—he knew that voice, and hearing that person speak was plenty surprising all on its own. But it also had to do with the proximity and volume. Each word practically reverberated through his entire body, shaking him down to the core. Not loud, per se, but… big.

Turning his gaze upward, Makoto immediately locked eyes with the voice’s owner. Those icy blue irises practically pierced through him like a pair of daggers.

“B-Byakuya? Wh—” 

Before he could form a proper question, the sight of a massive hand descending upon him caused Makoto to choke on his words. He didn’t have any time to react as equally massive fingers coiled around him, hoisting him up with all the care of someone retrieving a handkerchief from their pocket. 

That was where he’d been. Byakuya’s pocket. 

That realization alone was more than enough to send his mind reeling—nevermind the lack of concern Byakuya showed when handling him.  

The Togami heir all but dumped him onto the desk, nearly causing him to fall over. Thankfully, Makoto somehow managed to keep his footing. Now he just had to contend with the fact that he was trapped in the library with Byakuya looming over him.

God, it was bad enough that Byakuya already knew his secret. Actually being caught in his most vulnerable state was a nightmare come to life. 

For the longest moment, there was only silence between the two boys. Makoto was almost too nervous to even breathe, let alone speak. 

Eventually, though, Byakuya seemed to grow bored with their little staring contest. 

“How much longer are you going to be stuck like this?” he questioned, setting his book aside and crossing his arms. 

“I… What?” 

“You heard me.” 

Sure, Makoto heard him, but that didn’t make it any less confusing. 

“I don’t… I’m not sure? What happened? Why was I—” 

“You don’t remember? Hmph, figures,” Byakuya huffed. “You fainted right outside your door, and then your little… quirk kicked in. You’re lucky I was the one who found you.” 

Makoto didn’t know if he necessarily agreed, but he wasn’t about to say so. 

His memory started coming back after that, though.

In the aftermath of the last class trial, it would’ve been a huge understatement to say that Makoto was feeling stressed out. He could hardly remember the last time he’d eaten a proper meal. Or gotten a full night of sleep. Normally he was a lot better about taking care of himself, given the consequences that came about with his shifting if he didn’t, but… 

Could anyone really blame him for slacking a bit? 

“So, you… brought me with you to the library?” 

“I can’t keep you in check if your secret gets out prematurely, now can I?”

Ugh. Right. Now things were starting to make more sense. Byakuya just wanted to make sure he still had blackmail material.

“So? How much longer?” The affluent progeny didn't even bother trying to hide his annoyance at having to ask the question a second time.

“Well, um. I mean… it depends,” Makoto tried his best to explain. “How long was I… er, how long has it been since you found me?”

Byakuya looked over at the clock above the door. 

“Just over two hours.” 

Two hours?!

To think he’d been alone with Byakuya for that much time, unconscious and barely more than three inches tall… Makoto didn’t want to let himself dwell on that for too long. 

At least he was still in one piece. 

…For now. 

“Um, I guess I could try shifting back up now?” he offered. 

Byakuya didn’t give any sort of verbal response. He just sat there, watching and waiting. 

Taking that as his cue, Makoto tentatively made his way over to the edge of the desk and sat down. He briefly thought about asking Byakuya to set him on the floor, but quickly pushed that idea aside. Better to avoid any more rough handling if he could. 

Makoto then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. Even without looking, he could practically feel Byakuya staring at him the entire time. 

But more importantly, after a few moments, he could also feel himself beginning to grow. Namely he could feel the surface of the desk gradually getting smaller and smaller beneath him. 

When he opened his eyes, he was now looking down at Byakuya, if only just slightly. Back to his normal height, thank god.

“Hm. Fascinating.”

All it took was that one word to send a shiver crawling up Makoto’s spine. Just the way Byakuya said it left him more than a little uncomfortable. Like he was some kind of science experiment or something.

“R-Right, well. I should go,” he stammered out rather quickly before hopping off the desk and heading for the door. 

Just as he was about to reach for the handle, he paused to look back over his shoulder. Byakuya had already gone back to reading whatever book he'd been looking through earlier. 

“I, um… Thanks? For making sure no one else saw me like that.” 

Even if Byakuya’s motivations for doing so had been purely selfish, thanking him still felt like the right thing to do. 

A noncommittal grunt was the only reply Makoto got, though. Byakuya didn’t even look up from his book.

Well, there was no point sticking around any longer than he already had. After leaving the library, his next intended destination was the dining hall. Nothing really sounded good if he was being honest, but… for the sake of making sure he didn’t pass out again, he figured it would be best to find something he could stomach.

#my writing #writing #danganronpa #gtronpa #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #dr makoto #dr byakuya #sizeshifter AU #sizeshifter!Makoto #g/t #g/t writing #giants/tinies

[sugurus-slxt]

are you tired of this? - Iwaizumi

Type: angst (happy ending)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of mental illness

Note: Y’all are married in this story and um I’m not so if I mess up well I sincerely apologize

Hope you guys enjoy the story

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thursday [11:15 p.m.]

“I just came home a little late what’s the fucking problem?” He shouted at you for the second time tonight. “I didn’t say there was a problem Haji. I just wanted to know what came up,” you spoke softly trying to keep a calm composure. The truth was your insides were shaking, every possible bad thought that you could think of hurtled at you over and over. You were just worried something had happened to him, your anxiety had calmed since he came home but it seems you had made one wrong move and here you were. “And I already told you the boss needed me to do some extra paperwork to take in some new trainees,” he spoke harshly but a bit calmer than before. He pinched his nose bridge between his fingers. “I’m not having an argument with you right now, forget it. I’m going to shower,” he turned to walk away from you but you grabbed his hand.

He turned to face you, “What!” He exclaimed loudly making you nearly jump out of your skin. “The dinner i-its getting cold… umm do you want me to heat it up?” You asked hoping he’d calm down, but it seems tonight was different he just got even angrier. He grabbed your wrist tightly, “What the fuck do you think? Dammit all you do is worry and cry! Now you don’t even have common sense. Sometimes I wonder why …” he stopped, words dying in his throat. Tear welled in your eyes; it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was going to say. Forgetting the pain of him squeezing your wrist, you shouted at him for the first time tonight, “Say it! Say it Hajime!” He stood mouth hanging open, not one word. You couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down your face. There wasn’t one emotion but instead too many, everything you’ve bottled tonight had busted like a dam.

You tore away from his grip, every inch of anxiety, depression, panic, all the emotions were pouring out of you in tears, sobs and every word you cried out next. “What! You don’t know why you married me? Huh? Is that it Iwaizumi? Well I’m so sorry I worry about my husband ok? I’m sorry that I can’t control when I get depressed. I’m sorry that every day I pray for you to return home safe. Tell what else you wonder about me! Tell me!” You pushed him as hard as you could. “Do you really wanna know what I think because I don’t think you can handle it,” he asked in a scarily calm tone. You knew you weren’t prepared for what came next but your emotions clouded your judgement. Neither of you meant anything you said, you knew that. Well you hoped because you know you hadn’t meant any of it. Every fiber in your body loved this man but tonight you weren’t backing down even if it meant you’d get hurt. “Go ahead!” You shouted pushing him again.

“Dammit stop pushing me! I’ll tell you but don’t blame me because you asked for it,” he never backed down. He knew that would be best right now but he didn’t care today was hard and he was just mad that you couldn’t get that. “You cry too much. You worry much. You get things wrong all the damn time. Something as simple as cleaning the house can end up in a disaster. I am always fixing you fucking messes. Not to mention you are so childish. For fucks sake grow up. Sometimes I wonder why I married you yeah ok because I’m so sick of this,” he stopped, he wasn’t shouting but his tone was angry as he belted out everything he though was wrong. “Haji- I,” you didn’t know what to say. Everything had gone numb. You thought that he didn’t mean it, but he seems so serious so calm. It was scary, it was as if he knew he wanted to say this for a while. May he was tired of you, tired of this, was he going to leave you. He continued but his voice softened, “Sometimes I just want to scream. I get off all of my steam hitting that punching bag till it breaks but nothing helps like letting it out but I’m not mad. I really am not. I'm frustrated and I’m tired. So tired angel. So fucking tired” He hung is head looking at the ground and you looked at him but you just couldn’t see him clearly, the tears blurring your vision as you asked the scariest question of them all, “Are you tired of this? Tired of us?”

He just gave out a sad chuckle and you caught it somehow, in the moment you caught it, the tear that fell on the ground. You’ve never seen him cry. This was different for Iwa and you just looked at him as he sat leaned against the wall. You tried drying your tears and went and sat cross-legged next to him on the floor, looking at the ground as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The silence was deafening but it didn’t stay like that for long.  “Tired of this? Yes Tired of us? Never,” he said softly. Your head shot up, “So you’re not leaving?” He turned and wiped the remaining tears from your cheek and smiled with his tear stained face,” I could never leave you” He smiled it was warm and genuine.  

“I wouldn’t rather do any of this with anyone else. Even if we are fighting. It's ok to make mistakes. It's ok to cry. It's ok to be sad, to be worried or to feel to not do anything. I know this isn’t easy for you. In fact I wasn’t even mad at you tonight, I was never mad at you to begin with. It’s just… ” He says cupping your check and stroking it with his thumb. Your wide eyes held anticipation, “T-thank y-you for saying that. And thank you for b-being honest with me. Even if you said it didn’t make you mad, I- I still want to try for you but Haji I know there’s more so p-please tell me,” you pleaded stuttering in between.

He moved his hand from your cheek and rested them on his knees as he turned to look straight ahead. “I was mad at myself because I always seem to mess up. I –I promised to make you happy, keep you safe and healthy but it seems like I always cause your despair or make your bad days worse. I make you cry, I don’t spend enough time with you. Babe you’re a trophy wife but I don’t think I’m you’re trophy husband. Hah maybe I should have let shittykawa have you all those years ago. I’m sure he’d always make you smile. Gosh… that beautiful smile. B-baby I-I’m so… so …sorry,” he broke down sobbing into his hands. You couldn’t believe it, all this time you thought that you were hurting him and always messing up but he was thinking the same. You huddled closer to him placing the words together on you head.

“Now you listen to me and let me finish o-ok H-haji,” he raised his head to look at you, tears still spilling out of his eyes, you bent forward and kissed them away and he smiled just a bit. “I love you. Only you are ok. Sure I cry, sure I worry and yes it’s about you but it’s because I love you. I’m going to do that no matter how the day turns out. God dammit you could be with me and I still worry because I never want to lose you. My depression and anxiety are always going to affect me but I always rest happily at night because you wrap me in your strong arms and tell me just what I need to hear. You make me feel like the most special girl in the world. Not a day goes by that there isn’t at least one happy moment for me and that is because of you Haji. And never give me to Oikawa. I will kill you myself if you do,” both of you giggle a bit, “You are the only one for me. The only one can make me happy. You are perfect for me in every way possible. I love you so much,” your cheeks are flushed and eyes puffy but you smile not because he needs it but because even now you’re happy with him. He bends over pulling you into a tight hug, “Thank you. Thank you. Gosh I love you so much. I’m supposed to be making you feel better but still thank you,” he buries his face in your nape. You whisper, “You already did.”

You both sat there for a bit just enjoying each other’s warm embrace. He finally rises up and lifts you along with him. “Let’s go take a warm shower together. We can eat dinner and maybe watch a movie. Maybe cuddle too. No definitely cuddle I think we need that. Ok with you baby?” He looks down at you for a response, “Of course I’d never say no to cuddles but don’t you have work tomorrow?” You ask heart-warmed by his gestures. “Nope. Not anymore. I’m taking a day off. I’m spending it with you. I’m gonna make you smile all day and we can talk about everything but tonight just enjoy each other,” he said kissing your forehead. “If you’re sure. I’m so lucky to have you. I love you so so much,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. His lips molded against yours perfectly, moving in sync. You break the kiss, hiding your red cheeks in his chest. “Hmmm. Six years and years with me and you still get flustered. How cute?” he chuckles to himself. “Hey it’s not my fault my husband is practically a Greek god.” He sets you down and pulls you into a hug, “And yes I’m sure. I’m just as lucky to have you, I love you my goddess.” You both spend the night just bathing in each other’s company and love.  

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#iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #angst #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyu #aoba jōsai #oikawa tōru #oikawa #hq #hq angst #anime #iwa chan #shittykawa #haikyu x reader #haikyuu mental illness #iwaizumi depressed #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #Sar.writes