#so if you ever send an ask that wasn't weird or rude or anything and I still didn't answer it

[layton-heritage-posts]

Asking out of pure curiosity and definitely not because of something that just happened over @pokemonheritageposts, have you ever closed your askbox?

No, if there is ever an ask that I genuinely don't want to answer I just ignore it tbh.

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Three (of four)

masterpost

“Why would I ever need help from Victor?” Danny scrunched up his brow and puzzled aloud after his passenger got out. He didn't mean to be rude but he was genuinely confused. Vic seemed nice enough, but he was kinda delicate, wasn't he? He was scared of Batman. What for? He was just some guy who was so risk-averse that he wore a motorcycle helmet out in public. He probably held the world's record for diagnosed anxiety disorders or something. 

‘I’m lucky he's so reactive,’ Danny chided himself not to be ungrateful. ‘If he wasn't, like, hyper-vigilant I might have had to talk to Batman. Horrific.’

He shuddered at the thought. He had planned to work a little more, but Danny decided to go back home and rest for a bit. His nerves were a little shot after the excitement of the morning. 

Oh, right. He hadn't checked what his tip was yet. Danny unfolded the bills and his eyes bugged out. “This is fifty dollars,” he said incredulously. “He paid me fifty dollars to take him like 10 blocks, with a 50 block detour.” 

Was Victor, like, okay? Danny cast a dubious look back in his rearview mirror and caught the barest glance of Victor's ridiculously jacked form disappearing into one of the murder warehouses. What a guy. Why'd he do-

“He was hitting on me?” Danny's voice reached a whistle pitch. Ah! Ah!!! Holy shit. What the hell? His face burnt red and he floored it back to his apartment complex, trying to get his heart rate under control. 

It was so obvious in retrospect! The weird awkward pauses in conversation! The huge tips! Asking for his number! 

Danny pulled to a stop at a yellow light rather than run it explicitly so that he could bang his head against the steering wheel. 

“I don't even know if he's hot,” Danny wailed. Instantly he knew it was a lie. He didn't know what Victor’s face looked like. He didn't remember what the photo had looked like anymore and the information was long gone. But he knew that Victor was tall, fit as fuck, and had really nice hands. 

Danny bit his lip and howled sadly. It helped, a little. He stole a glance at the receipt with Victor's phone number on it. He couldn't help but memorize the number. 

“I'm not going to call,” Danny told himself. Even if it was flattering. Victor might be a sketchy guy! Only sketchy people were out at the hours Danny worked. Danny couldn't afford association with anyone like that because he needed the authorities to never ever look at him. 

Also, and probably more importantly: you can't go to medical school if you have any kind of criminal record. If Danny was going to be Doctor Fenton the fourth and be able to provide his and Ellie's medical care, he needed to be a model citizen. He couldn’t trust that Vic would keep him out of whatever weird shit he was involved in.

Well. It wasn't like he was complicit in anything. Danny parked his beloved shitty car in the garage and took the stairs up to his apartment. He opened the door, saw Batman in his kitchen, and closed the door.

“Fuck.” 

Danny turned intangible and dropped like a rock through the floors. He was back in the driver's seat in less than 5 seconds. He turned it on and called Victor with one hand, because he'd just gotten the guy's number and he didn't exactly know a lot of Gothamites. “Hey, what do I do if Batman is in my apartment?” He said as soon as it connected. He turned the car on and peeled out onto the street.

“Wha- move, I guess. Is he there for fucking real?” Victor's electronic voice somehow managed to come across incredulous. “You probably shouldn't go back there. You're in your car?” A horn honked in the background. “You're faster,” Victor said. His confidence gave Danny a little. “I'll send you my gps point. Come to me and we can strategize how to get him off your tail.”

Danny swallowed hard. “Okay,” he said, and violently repressed the part of him asking why this nervous ass Gothamite would know any better than he did. At least Victor was a local. His phone pinged and he opened up the address. “Got it.”

“See you soon.” Victor hung up. 

Danny burnt rubber out of there, heart all the way up in his throat. Why was Batman after him? What did he know? He gasped for air, feeling like he was choking. He needed to be normal. He needed to- to get his degree and get his career and never ever have a whole fucking militaristic brancho of the government after him. He was one guy. When he was 14 he'd thought it was a funny game and the GIW were a bunch of chumps. But they were a bunch of chumps with money, weapons, and numbers. He couldn't afford to fuck with them. The fact that his parents gritted their teeth through associating with the GIW was the only thing that kept suspicion off of Danny.

He cycled through a panic attack and then into anger. What the hell, dude? Danny got that Batman had a bee up his ass about metahumans “in his city” (like he fucking owned it??) but Danny wasn't causing crime or fighting it. He was going to classes and trying to survive. Batman had no right to get involved in his business. 

He was steaming mad by the time he pulled up to where Victor was waiting for him. Victor hauled open an old style garage door and ushered him in quickly. Danny parked inside and sighed over the steering wheel. It took a few moments to center himself and then he got out. “Hey.” He lifted a hand in greeting and then shoved it in his pocket, feeling unimaginably weary. It wasn't even 5 am, jeeze. What was his life? “Thanks for answering.” He cleared his throat and bumped his butt against the hood of his car. “Helluva morning,” he complained dryly.

“It's no problem.” Victor seemed a little stiff and uncomfortable, standing in the middle of the other parking space. Either that or he was posing. “It's not your fault.”

Danny let out a snort. “It's not, but what does that matter?” He shrugged. And then he realized- “Wait, do you know what I am- scratch that.” He made a hand gesture to wave that away. Victor had known what Amity Park was offhand and he'd had a chance to see Danny phase the car through solid matter. “I guess what matters more is why Batman is on my ass. D’you think he knows?” 

Victor looked at him for a long time. “No…” 

“No, what?” Danny narrowed his eyes up at the taller man. 

“I don't think Batman knows that you're…” Victor made a gesture at Danny that explained nothing. “Whatever you are. I think he wants to ask you what you know about me.”

Danny stared blankly at him. “About you,” he echoed. He gave Victor a dubious look. “Why would he care about you?” 

Victor lifted a gloved finger and pointed at his helmet as if that was supposed to mean something. Danny tilted his head to the side like a bird and raised one eyebrow. “Because I'm the Red Hood?” Victor said dubiously. “You know that, right?” 

“You're Victor,” Danny said. He furrowed his brows. “Is - is The Red Hood like, your drag persona or something? Cool for you but it's not really relevant -” 

Victor tore off the helmet to reveal a face that was a lot younger than Danny had anticipated. “It's not a drag persona,” he snapped. “It's- I'm the Red goddamn Hood! You have to have seen me on the news!” 

Danny mutely shook his head. He thought about saying that he didn’t watch the news, but he sort of felt bad for the guy. It was probably safer not to comment.

“It's been non-stop,” Victor said, and Danny could really tell how incredulous he felt without that goofy voice filter effect removing the pout from his voice. “I dropped 13 human heads off at the police station yesterday. Come on!” 

He blinked. 

Wait.

One.

Second.

“You had me take you to the police with contraband?” Danny roared, incandescent with fury. 

“Uh.” Victor looked a little shifty now, even with that dweeb ass mask covering from his eyebrows to his cheekbones. “Yeah, I guess-”

“I'm going to go to medical school!” Danny roared, and suplexed the bastard. Victor went down with a howl and a valiant attempt to dig out Danny's eye with his bent index and middle fingers. Danny went selectively intangible and rolled them both over to start slapping Victor on his stupid face. “I-” slap “can't” slap “have” slap “a criminal record!” He leaned so far forward that his lips were nearly touching Victor's. “Capiche?” Danny jabbed a finger into Victor's stupidly ripped chest. 

“Um.” 

“Capiche? Understand? Do you get my meaning?” Danny howled. “I am an illegal entity! My paperwork is suspect!” He dug his knees a little harder into Victor's sides, struggling to control his strength. 

“Hey man, me too,” said Victor. He seemed mildly surprised by this commonality. “That's why I can't get a driver's license.” He put his hands up by his head. The movement made his incredible biceps sort of…pulse. Bulge? 

Danny blinked, attention caught by something about what Victor had said. “How'd you get your Uber account verified without- oh my god!” He threw his hands up in disgust. “You're not even Victor, are you? Your first word to me was a lie?” 

Not-Victor laughed. Danny was surprised enough that he loosened his grip. But the other guy didn't try to get out. “You're fun,” he said. He had a nice smile, crooked and kissable. Oh, fuck.

Danny felt his whole face burn red. Shit. Abort. He scrambled up, suddenly mortified that he was sitting on the other guy. “What's your name?” he demanded, trying to sound unaffected and mean. 

“Jay.” 

“You're sure this time?” Danny managed to work up a little more indignation. 

“Hands to god, on my grave,” Jay promised. Danny sort of hated that he believed it. 

Danny relented. “Fine.” It wasn’t like he had any moral high ground to stand on about maintaining secret identities, if he was honest. He huffed and crossed his arms. “How do I get Batman off my ass? I'm guessing you don't want me to talk to him about you.”

[kyracooneyx23]

Favourite Pest - Kyra Cooney Cross

Kyra Cooney-Cross x matildas!reader

part 2 of this

summary: You find out what's caused your best friend to act so strange.

warnings - nothing except its terrible

It was so nice to finally be back in camp with the Matildas again. Despite how much you tried to hide it, your time away from the sport had been the toughest months of your life. You were so grateful for all the physios and trainers at Chelsea that had made your return in time for the world cup possible. 'I don't know whether I should be happy or not that your back.' Caitlin said from opposite you on the table.

'that's so rude Cait,' you say placing a hand to your heart to feign hurt 'You should be glad your favourite person is back so your not stuck with these two losers.' You tease causing Mackenzie and Alanna to gasp.

'I'm just saying, now that you're back Kyra's going to be back to her pesty habits again.' She groans shooting a look at the young midfielder who was staring at the back of your head for the last twenty minutes since you had sat down to have dinner. Caitlin smirks slightly seeing her teammate pining over her best friend who was completely oblivious to what was going on.

Katrina had warned the other Matildas about what was going on with Kyra, but it wasn't a surprise to any of them as they'd been sick of the two of you being a simp for each other but not noticing because you both shared the same singular braincell. They were all just praying for one of you to man up and confess so you could finally get together.

'Kyra's only ever a pest when you're around. Since you've been gone she's actually been quite pleasant.' You turn around in your chair to look at Kyra, shocked that your best friend could ever be anything but wild around your tillies teammates who were your favourite people to annoy together. When you catch her gaze you send her a playful smile but she quickly looks down at her plate making you frown.

'Yeah, you bring out the wild child in Kyra.' Alanna pipes in, throwing a piece of carrot at you, the vegetable only slightly missing your eye you whack the tall girl before dipping your hand in the leftover pasta sauce on your plate and smearing it all over her face. 'Oh, your going to regret that.' She responds pouring a glass of freezing water over your head. You screech hopping off your seat and trying to shake the water off of you, catching everyone in the rooms attention.

'Fuck you Lani.' You snap at her, causing Mini to tell you to watch your language. You roll your eyes walking towards the bathrooms to dry yourself off a little bit.

Whilst your off in the toilets Tony comes in to where the players are eating to tell everyone the room arrangements as he reads of the names Kyra feels her heart sink as she finds out she'll be rooming with you. Normally she would be excited knowing the two of you would end up staying way past your bedtime watching movies and planning pranks but now she felt sick. Just looking at you laughing with Caitlin and Alanna made her stomach do flips, she was choking on her words and you were halfway across the room, she couldn't bare to imagine all the ways she could mess up if she had to sleep in a room with you.

Mini must've noticed Kyra's discomfort and places a discreet hand on her knee. 'If its really that bad I can ask if me and you can room together instead, I'm sure Charli wouldn't mind rooming with y/n.' The older girl whispers in Kyra's ear.

'What if she finds out though?' Kyra asks dully fiddling with the fork in her hand. She didn't want you knowing that she had swapped rooms just to be away from you.

'It's ok, I'll make sure she doesn't' Katrina assures Kyra wrapping an arm around the blonde.

'thanks Mini.' she mumbles leaning into the warm arms of her motherlike figure.

You walked back into your room noticing half your team gone. You look around for Kyra but she is nowhere to be seen. You thought it was weird for the whole time you were apart all you could talk about was how you couldn't wait to be reunited but now you were here it felt like she was ignoring you. 'y/n/n!' Charli's voice rings through the room as she walks over you pulling both of your suitcases. 'I'm sorry, but you're stuck with me for now.' You laugh, the girls infectious mood making you feel brighter.

You walk alongside the defender making small conversation with each other until you reach your hotel room. You begin to unpack your suitcases, giving up after a few seconds. Instead deciding to get into bed and watch a movie which you hardly got halfway through until the two of you passed out, the jetlag properly kicking in.

The next morning everyone was up early for training. You made your way into the breakfast room very slowly still not fully awake, you keep your eyes peeled for Kyra but she isn't anywhere to be seen. You're about to sit down at the table with Macca, Lani and Cait but before you can place your stuff down an arm is chucked around your shoulders leading you towards a different table.

'It's time we get you, they've already got their fair share of you last night.' Ellie Carpenter, who also only recently came back from her ACL injury, tells you sitting you down next to her at a table with Sam, Hayley, Mary and Courtney. You greet everyone and join in with their conversation but your only half engaged noticing Kyra walk into the room with Mini completely avoiding you as she sits down at the table furthest from yours.

'Is something up with Kyra?' You ask the five girls who pause their conversation.

'She has seemed a little bit off recently hasn't she?' Hayley states everyone on your table looking at Kyra who isn't touching her food instead looking into the distance her usual smile absent from her face.

'I assumed the two of you would be joint by the hip now your back,' Mary adds 'has something happened?' You shrug not knowing why your supposed best friend was acting this way.

'Maybe she's just jetlagged.' Sam states looking at you with concern. She was one of the people who looked out for you the most, being your Chelsea teammate she felt obliged to make sure you were ok, always doing anything you needed. You don't say anything else eating your breakfast before Tony calls everyone outside for training.

Your walking outside with Macca after getting changed into your training gear. 'Y/N, could we please talk for a second?' Tony asks you once your on the pitch you check his expression to see if your in trouble not knowing why you would be, you hadn't pulled any pranks this camp, afterall the person who always helped you execute your plans was avoiding you.

'Yeah sure.' You follow him to the benches on the side of the pitch.

'Is everything ok with you and Kyra?'

'I'm not sure, why?'

He hesitates for a second before responding to your question. 'You were meant to room with her but she requested to swap with Charli, and usually you two are the best of friends, if somethings happened I don't want to it affect the game on Friday.' The words shock you, you were already confused about why Kyra was avoiding you and had no clue why she would ever request not to room with you. You had hardly spoken a word to her, you were her best friend surely she would of been excited to get to spend time with you now you were back. Tears begin to form in your eyes and you rub them away, angry at the way she was treating you when you didn't even know what you'd done.

'I'll talk to her about it, thanks for letting me know.' You tell the Swedish man walking away trying not to let your anger show. You focus on training hardly talking to anyone except Sam who you do all the partner drills with. It gets to the time when you do a mini scrimmage and you are on opposite teams than Kyra. You play for a while not having many opportunities to create chances until Kyra receives the ball and you're barely two meters away, she is debating who to pass to when you decide to go and slide tackle her. You take her legs out causing her to fall onto the floor backwards whilst you run off with the ball before passing it to Sam who slots it past Teagan.

You walk to stand next to her as the ball is kicked back into play but she moves away when you get near her, you frown but put you attention back on the scrimmage.

You continue playing a while longer before Tony calls everyone back, giving a short debrief on tactics and all that before sending everyone off to enjoy the rest of their days as it was only a half day today. You grab a drink of water squirting some on Alanna who wraps you up in a headlock before carrying you inside and chucking you onto a couch in the games room where everyone went for a bit of free time. You lay on the couch before you notice Kyra walking in with Charli, you get up and walk over to the pair.

'Kyra, I think we should talk.' You tell her, Kyra gulps she'd never seen you so serious before and it was scaring her. When she doesn't respond you link arms with her pulling her away with you up to your room. You sit on your bed patting Charli's bed motioning for Kyra to sit there, cautiously she sits waiting for you to break the awkward silence. 'No need to look so scared, i just wanna talk.' You say calmly even though you were beyond pissed at the girl.

'How's your knee?' Kyra asks anxiously watching as your clench your jaw in frustration.

'I'm not here to talk about my knee Kyra, I'm hear to talk about the way you've been acting.' You snap at her getting straight to the point.

'What about the way I'm acting?' She laughs lightly and you can see sweat beads forming around her forehead.

'Don't act dumb, I've been back for over 24 hours and you've spoken a single sentence to me. I've tried to get your attention but all you do is avoid me, and I'm left wondering what the fuck I've done to make you act this weird. I'm not the only one who's noticed literally everyone I've talked to has asked me if somethings going on with us. It's not fair being treated this way when you won't even tell me why.' Your voice breaks and you feel your eyes begin to water 'I was so fucking excited to be back here not only because I'm playing the sport I love but because I got to be back with one of my most favourite people in the world, so how do you think it's making me feel when she is ignoring me and requesting for us not to room together?' You wipe your eyes not wanting to look like a baby in front of Kyra. Her mouth is slightly opened and her face is filled with hurt.

'I'm so sorry y/n/n.' Is all she manages to say after a long awkward silence.

'Really?' You ask slightly disgusted at her childish behavior 'Is that all you're going to say, I think I at least deserve an explanation.'

'I want to tell you but I'm scared it will mess things up even more.' She whispers looking down at her feet and playing with the rings on her fingers, one of them being yours.

'Kyra, I've seen you do the most stupid stuff and we've gotten into fights like this before and shit much worse but we always figure things out, I think we've got too strong of a friendship for it to be ruined by a silly argument.' You state.

'Ok here goes nothing.' She whispers under her breath not loud enough for you too hear. 'This is going to sound really dumb but when you were gone I started getting these weird feelings and I was really confused but I just blamed them on me missing you but after a while they didn't go away. I kept getting butterflies in my stomach whenever you would call and you were all I could ever think about, I wanted to spend every second of my free time with you. Then when you walked in I went into like shock or something, I was so terrified of messing up I didn't know what to do with myself so then I thought I'd stay away from you and the feelings would go away but I still don't know why I'm feeling this way and I'm scared because your the best friend I've ever had and I just want to say I really really like you y/n. Please don't be mad.' She speaks so fast it takes you a while to comprehend what she's just said. When you don't reply immediately Kyra instantly regrets confessing, you probably think she's weird now, why would anyone ever fall in love with their best friend. She considers getting up and just running away, maybe she'd move to Hawaii or some place like that and change her name so people would forget a mess like her ever existed. She's about to get up and leave when you speak.

'Why would I be mad, I like you too Kyra.' You say and Kyra's mood lifts but only for a second as you complete your sentence, 'I mean why wouldn't I, your my best friend.' Kyra's cheeks flush bright red and she buries her face in her hands not sure what to do with herself.

'No I don't mean as in friend, I mean I like like you.' Kyra says slowly trying to help you process the information 'as in more than friends.' Your jaw drops at her words, you didn't realise she liked you like that.

There had been times before your injury when you had begun to feel differently around Kyra, but you'd never told anyone this because you'd rather get to have her as a friend than not have her at all. You understood now why she had avoided you, you probably would've done the same if you hadn't told Sam about it and she told you to accept the feelings but not close off Kyra.

You had tried to ignore the way Kyra made you sweat with nerves and the constant need you felt to impress her, assuming that she didn't feel the same way. But here she was saying that she did and you didn't know what to do about it.

Your brain was telling you not to do anything irrational but the rest of you wasn't listening. You got moved nearer to Kyra, placing a soft kiss on the girls lips. For a moment you were worried when she just froze but then she began kissing you back.

The two of you melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around your neck as you placed your hands on her hips. It was soft and delicate, but it still managed to make your heartrate go wild. You'd only ever dreamed of it never imagining it to be real one day.

You pulled away when air became an issue watching as a large grin spread onto Kyra's face as the two of you sat in a comfortable silence.

'Do you forgive me now?' She asked and you laughed lightly.

'I will if you give me one more kiss.' You tease seeing her blush lightly. The aussie places her lips on yours again and you both fall back onto the bed. When your separated again she places a soft kiss on your nose.

'Do you want to head out and see the others?' Kyra asks you, causing you to shake your head.

'Can we just stay here for a while?' You ask 'I've only just got my best friend back, I think time just the two of us is well overdue.' A smile breaks out on Kyra's face and you match it on yours. You shuffle over slightly on the bed making room for Kyra next to you. She joins you the two of you lying so you can face the tv.

You turn the tv on and flick it onto a random channel, having a feeling that you and Kyra won't really be paying much attention. For a while you lay in silence, not saying anything. You're just glad that you've got your best friend back, even though it wasn't in the way you imagined and Kyra is relieved that she no longer has to act like a stranger around you, a massive weight lifted off her chest that she doesn't have to hide her feelings from you anymore.

'I'm sorry.' She whispers to you breaking the silence.

'Shut up stupid.' You shake your head not hearing it, placing a light kiss on her cheek. She gives you one in return before peppering kisses all over your face you laugh as she wraps her arms around you, lying on top of you and keeping you in position so you can't move. 'Fuck of Kyra.' You say but your words are muffled as she places a long kiss on your lips.

'I see what Caitlin meant by you being a pest.' you tell her laughing as she frowns at you.

'But you love me.' She grins and you shake your head slightly.

'Yep, you'll always be my favourite pest.'

sorry this is shit

[cringe--is--dead]

Peaceful Paradise Interrupted

Type: One Shot

Gohan x Reader, Reader is the adopted daughter of Vegeta and Bulma

Summary: Your peace wasn't often challenged, but when someone came to earth to challenge your father and/or Goku, you end up more annoyed being in the middle of it than fearful.

Your life had settled into a routine, though after most of your childhood and adolescence, you weren't complaining. The structure gave you a peace of mind, minus the occasional extraterrestrial being hell-bent on revenge against your father or challenging Goku.

Those spats, at this rate, lasted a day at the most, an hour at the least. You hardly ever knew of them until after the issues were resolved.

Safe to say you enjoyed your peace, you enjoyed your routine, you enjoyed everything your life had become. Minus this.

The barrel of some weird, foreign gun looking at you had become your new common view. The alien man who had broken into your home, looking for one of the several (like five) Saiyan life forms, only to find you lazing around in your pajamas while attempting to finish some paper due for some class you were beginning to hate.

You craned your neck to peer around at him, studying him as he spoke into whatever communicator his people used, before speaking up, more annoyed than anything, "You realize how stupid this is right?"

He blanched, taken aback by the calm demeanor in which you spoke. He barked some orders before turning his full attention towards you, "Excuse me?"

You shrugged, "This was dumb of you to do." Your legs were beginning to cramp up under you, and you were at least grateful you had worn longer pants, "Haven't you even heard of what happens to people who come to earth looking for a fight?"

He sneered, "They end up choosing life forms far beneath them, yes, little lady, I've heard the stories."

Rude. "I'm just saying - "

"You are not the one I'm after."

"I kind of figured," He narrowed his eyes at you, pressing the gun closer towards your face, "I can't imagine I did anything wrong enough to piss you off."

"Do you know of the Saiyans Vegeta and Kakarot?"

"Hard to not know them," Your voice was dry, and you knew that after the scolding your mother would unleash on you, she'd have some pride in how you were keeping your cool.

"My readings had indicated that they had been here, though upon arrival, I only found you. What is a weak, earthling like you doing around two of the most powerful beings on this planet?"

"Don't let them hear you say that, my father's ego is large enough already."

His eyebrow, or where you would assume an eyebrow would be, twitched, "Your- your father?"

You hummed, introducing yourself casually, before sending a sarcastic smile, "Vegeta's oldest."

"Your power levels are far too weak to be - "

"Adopted," You could feel the energy before anything else, the feeling of your hair standing up on end alerting you that your fiancé had gotten the emergency signal sent to his phone, "But, still."

You braced yourself, the door launching open with the sounds of splintered wood falling all around. Gohan was standing in the doorframe, hair still black, but eyes livid. You glanced at the shocked man before you, if Gohan didn't feel the need to power up than this guy was weak- what had he been hoping to do?

You watched as your fiancé smiled, something cold and dark, a look that was so foreign to see on him. It sent chills down even your spine, "Hi," The cheeriness was forced, "Honey you didn't tell me we had guests."

"Surprise visitors." You glanced sadly at the remnants of the front door as Gohan walked inside, you'd have to ask Goku to fix it again.

The energy coming off of your fiancé was beyond suffocating, and the blaster fell from where it had been pointed at you, trembling in the alien's hand.

"W- Who are you?"

"I should be the one asking you that considering you're in my house." Your fiancé's anger was getting harder to hide, the smile bordering bloodthirsty.

You flexed your hands from where they were bound, sighing, catching his attention, "Please don't destroy anymore of the house."

Gohan didn't look away from the man, who was frantically trying to contact some of his men. You assumed they had all scattered- and odds are some ended up coming across your father and Goku.

They might fare better than this man was about to.

"Of course," You blinked and he was across the room, grabbing the man by the front of his tunic, before lifting him up, the gun dropping to the floor.

"Let's take this outside, shall we?"

Just as quickly as he had gotten across the room, your fiancé had taken the offending man outside, the sounds of shouting growing muffled as they left your home.

You sighed to yourself, twisting further as you remembered the self-defense classes your mother made you take. It felt almost pointless at the time- who was stupid enough to do something to piss off your family? But as you managed to free your sore wrists, you were grateful.

By the time you moved on to untying your legs, Gohan strolled back in, not a hair out of place. He smiled at you, moving to crouch down in front of you, softly batting your hands away to undo the rest.

"Are you alright?"

He paused, laughing softly at the question.

"I should be asking you that," The rope fell, and he helped you stand, hands moving softly across you, feeling and searching for any indicators that he should go out and end that man.

"I'm alright," You smiled, "You got here just in time."

Gohan nodded, eyes falling shut, and he leaned down, forehead pressing against yours. You remained quiet, letting him process everything.

"I was so scared when you sent me that signal," He spoke quietly, eyebrows furrowing as if reliving the moment, "I wasn't sure what to expect. And dad and Vegeta were already dealing with their own stuff at the moment."

"He didn't hurt me," You reached forward, pulling your fiancé closer, allowing him to burrow into you as best he could, "I think he was more confused than anything to find a human here."

Gohan laughed, a wet sound from the back of his throat, "Right. Not the terrifying Saiyan legends he was expecting."

"Just a human college student who probably would have hit him with a frying pan had I been in the kitchen," You glanced at the dishes laying in the sink- had you been closer you definitely would have.

"I assume the others are taken care of?"

Gohan nodded, "Dad and Vegeta are on their way here - "

The sound of your name being shouted outside alerted you that more company had arrived, and the sounds of an engine being killed let you know your mother had arrived with them.

You watched as Goku made his way to the front entrance of your house, peering down curiously at the broken door, hand rubbing the back of his head, "Aw man, I feel like I just fixed - "

He was interrupted by your father barging by, snarling an, "Out of the way Kakarot", before he made his way inside. You saw your mother trailing close behind, eyes wide and worried, hand clutched to her chest. Goku had enough smarts to step out of the way, moving to stand where you saw your brother and Goten in the yard, the later of the two poking the unconscious assailant with a stick.

"Oh, my baby! Are you hurt?" Gohan stepped back, hands up in defense as you shot him a glare.

Your mothers arms wrapped around you tightly, your ribs wincing at the strength of her hold, "I'm fine mom, he didn't do - "

"And this is why I still think you and Gohan should have taken one of the homes near us!" She huffed as she let you go, arms resting on your shoulders as she glared at you, no malice behind her eyes, "My security would have ensured that that man never even looked at you - "

"She moves back in and Gohan can go home with Kakarot, everyone's happy," Your father snarked, arms crossed over his chest.

"Vegeta," Your mother turned to glare at him, arms never leaving their place around you, jerking you forward with her.

"To be fair dad he was the one who got here first," You rolled your eyes as your father pointedly ignored this remark.

"Still - with the damages done I think it's best if you two come stay at home for now!"

"Mom, it's literally just the front door - "

"Perfect!" She squeezed you tighter- a warning not to argue.

You glanced helplessly at your fiancé, who only shrugged in response. The man who more than likely stopped himself from killing moments ago, fell powerless in the face of your overprotective mother.

[mo0nfics]

Dress - Max verstappen

Ship: Max Verstappen × fem!reader

word count: 1771 words

warnings: fingering, car sex, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of alcohol.

Au: This was my first ever proper smit chapter. Please do give me suggestions how I can write better and send me requests and suggestions for more one shots.

-----------------

Getting into a f1 team as a staff and becoming good friends with the drivers has the advantage of partying till late hours and disadvantage of still working the next day with a bad hangover.

Today was the same as every Sunday night. A race ends, the winner gets the trophy and the party begins.

I had gotten close to Max after I joined red bull as an engineer. We had interacted when I was doing an intership but we got pretty close after I got a proper contract to join red bull.

Since I had gotten close to Max, he had introduced me to most of the racers on the grid. Lando Norris being one of them.

Lando and I became friends soon after we met and got close to becoming best friends. Our relation was more like siblings unlike mine and Max's.

I am unsure of how my relationship with Max is. We are friends but there are moments I feel like there is something more. I think I may have caught some feelings for him.

The race has ended well, Max with another p1 win, which mean that partying tonight would feel fun like most of the nights.

I check myself in the mirror if my dress was perfect and my makeup looked perfect.

I was wearing a black short dress that ended up mid way of my thighs. The dress was sexy yet elegant at the same time, it could be worn in a formal event and you could follow it up for the after party as well. There was some shimmer that could catch the eyes of the people around but not too  much to blind them.

I checked the time to know I was as always late to the party. I rushed in the club trying to find my people, Max and Lando, one would be chilling at the bar and another would be taking pictures of everyone.

I spotted Lando standing on a chair taking picture of Carlos.

"Hey Guys!" I said disturbing them from their photo session. They looked at me annoyed but then realised it was me and greeted me back with "Hi y/n", Carlos looked back at the camera as Lando kept telling him to look at it, "Max is with some guys near the bar" said Carlos still looking at the camera. I replied with a "Thank you!" And walked away.

I spotted Max who was with a few racers and a girl. A GIRL.

I felt weird about it but ignored it, it wasn't like he was flirting with her or anything, right. Right?

I walked towards them trying to keep my emotions inside me and failing successfully as Max asks me, "are you fine?" To which I just nod. "I'll get myself a drink" max follows me to the bar to which I say "you don't need to come with me" it sounded a bit rude for my liking. Max just ignored what I said and was still with me.

I ordered my drink and max sat on one of the bar stools looking at me. "Who was that girl?" I asked something I didn't want to ask but I couldn't suppress my curiosity. "She's Lance's girlfriend" I questioned him as soon as he finished the word girlfriend, "why were you so close to her?" I sounded jealous but fuck it, I didn't like the way that girl was being so close to Max. "I don't know, y/n" he sighed.

I drowned my drink faster than I would usually and ordered another one getting a look from Max telling me ' I'm not fine'.

I know I'm not fine, I think I like Max, I know the feelings aren't given back, it's a literal one sided thing. I feel weird how I bought this dress with him in my mind, so I could impress him and he wouldn't even care about it.

I am someone you cannot trust with alcohol and yes, I have a bad tolerance thats why it I look a little to out of my mind, Max would be the one following me to the bar to keep me in check and I hate how much he takes care of me (I don't really hate it, I'm just frustrated as fuck).

I had ordered my third drink, gulping down the last two, making me already tipsy, just a little, okay not just a little. Before Max could say anything I had ordered my drink.

Max took the drink even before it could reach me and started sipping it slowly, "you'll regret it" he said softly knowing how stubborn I could get he didn't even give me a chance to speak.

I just looked at Max, more like stared at him. His eyes were so blue and pretty, he lips were the perfect colour of pink. Gosh I wanted to kiss him so bad.

When I was teenager my moto was 'YOLO'.  A bit cringe  and cliché but it did the work. I obviously had a few regrets but those regrets turned into memories that I love reminiscing over.

So I did what my teenage self would do. I cupped his face and kissed him. I knew what I was doing but I couldn't control it.

Max pulled back immediately, "Y/n" he looked into my eyes, "you'll regret it" I shook my head, "i'll regret if I don't do anything" and the next moment Max kissed me.

I was a bit shocked at his response but I kissed him back, moving my lips along with his going in a rhythm, one that could not be copied.

My hands travelled to the nape of his neck and then one of my hand playing with his hair pulling him closer.

His hands travelled up and down my back. Feeling every inch of it.

We broke the kiss due to the lack of oxygen entering our lungs. "Fuck, I wanted to do this for so long" max whispered, I kissed him with love rather than lust.

Max's lips left sloppy kisses going towards my neck, sucking on a spot to mark me his. I softly moaned and bit my lips, rolled my eyes and tilted my head back feeling the pleasure.

"Max, let's go somewhere private" I whispered trying to supress a moan. Max nodded and kissed my lips again making me melt, he pulls back and takes my hand leading me to his car.

Before he opened the door to the back seat he asked softly catching me off gaurd "Y/n, you won't regret it, right?" I looked into his eyes, "I'll regret not doing this with you", he smashed his lips onto mine roughly, like he wanted to do this all along. Like he couldn't get himself to stop.

He opened the car door and he went in hastily, I went in after him, he motioned me to sit on his lap. I faced towards him, his hands caressing my inner thighs, kissing me roughly. I moaned softly at this sensation. My hands resting on his head bringing him closer.

Max swiftly layed me on the seat, keeping one my legs on his shoulders. He kissed my inner thighs, I wanted to close my legs at this new but familiar feeling.

"Max" i moaned as he kissed my inner thigh, gently placing his fingers on top of my clothed heat. I moan in ecstasy. I wanted him to touch me, I wanted him to ruin me.

The moment he slides off my panties and says looking at me in the eyes "do you know how bad I wanted you" and starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, "fuck.....mmmh.....max" I moan feeling his fingers entering me. He slides off the left strap of my dress and starts caressing my breasts, feeling my hard nipples and pinching them, making me moan louder. I held onto the back seat for life not trusting myself with my body.

I felt a knotting feeling in my stomach, my toes curling, my moans getting louder, "max" i breathed "I'm gonna come" I said and moaned as his fingers went faster.

I came with a loud moan, probably the whole area heard it.

"Max" I said seductively "I bought this dress so you could take it off" and I felt him tensing under my skin. Max kissed me before sliding of my dress, checking out my body "You're so pretty" Max whispered in my ears before kissing my neck, I tilted my head towards the opposite side to give him more space.

"I want you so bad" I whispered, touching his bare chest and and then travelling down to unbutton his jeans. He helped to pull them down to his knees and slid his boxers till his knees.

I pushed him to the seat and sat on his laps. He didn't utter a word, he held onto my ass and looked into my eyes. Gosh, his gorgeous blue eyes.

He helped me enter his cock into my mine. I hissed at his size, he kissed my lips, massaging my breasts, "fuck" I muttered as I started grinding my hips slowly. He groaned and held tightly on my ass moving me faster. Our moans filled the car. I was pretty people could see our silhouette from outside. I moved my hips faster.

He swiftly put me under him, and pushed deep in me, "fuck" i moaned.

"You're taking it so good" he groaned and increased his pace. He wrapped his hands around my neck going deeper inside me. My hands on his back, making my mark on the back.

I feel another orgasm coming, curling my toes, "don't do it yet" he said and went in faster than before, my moans were uncontrollable.

He came to my ear level caressing my body, putting pressure on my clit by his thumb. "do it" and as on cue I came all over his cock. He took it out from inside on came on my waist.

He kissed my forehead. "You want go in or go to the hotel" he said pulling his boxers and jeans up. "Let's go back and cuddle" he nodded and then gave me another kiss before handing me my panties and dress. "Let's go cuddle, then" he said and got out to sit in the driver's seat. I wore my clothes hastily and sat on the passanger seat. "I've always wanted to do this" I said holding his hand, he put a loose strand behind my ear and kissed me, "you're the best thing I've ever waited for".

[anonymous-kotlc-thoughts]

I think a lot of these anons make good points, and people don't listen to them, but rather dismiss them a) because SOME of the asks are rude (which. fair) and/or b) they just don't want to hear anything bad about what they like (which is also fair but seems a bit dishonest?? who knows)

this fandom doesn't seem toxic, though, so that's nice. I feel like some people just bend over backwards to try and justify things that aren't good (emotional cheating is bad? right guys? RIGHT?) but i don't know. something's just a little weird here but not bad. at least not yet, and hopefully never.

Let's look at this one specifically:

https://www.tumblr.com/anonymous-kotlc-thoughts/754103133711581184/look-when-it-comes-to-sokeefe-you-cant

If you look at the verbal responses to it, you can see that people are just dismissing what the confession was saying because of both a) and b).

Here are my thoughts on it:

'look, when it comes to sokeefe, you can't criticize it, okay? even if you really like LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE SERIES, if you don't like sokeefe, you just gotta be quiet. And put the book down, man.

Dear anon, I'm sorry if someone said that to you, that sounds weird. You can criticize what ever you like, so long as you aren't being mean to other fans or sending threats to anyone, or something like that.

'It's Sophie's story, why you always gotta hate on her happiness?? She's happy with Keefe! You just gotta accept that; she's happy with Keefe, why are you such a meanie?

I'd noticed people saying that too, and while I don't think the characters shouldn't 'get to be happy,' you can be happy in bad situations or doing things that are bad, so I do think that argument's a little weird.

'You can't criticize Keefe, either, or his obsession love for Sophie and how he idealizes and infantilizes the crap out of her- it's super sweet and healthy, and it makes them happy, so if you don't like it just put the book down!

'Put the book down' again. What happened? Hopefully that wasn't toxicity (I doubt it was, you guys-other people in the fandom- seem nice!) As for idealizing, infantalizing, and obsession, I honestly DO agree with that too. I might just like Sophie too much

'emotional cheating's cute, but don't worry! no one was right in that situation btw but it was super sweet and healthy for Keefe!

I think I saw the post that was talking about this specifically, but I can't remember the exact wording- they were saying that no one was right in the love triangle, but that Keefe shouldn't try to not talk to sophie because that wouldn't be healthy for him. I don't think him staying was healthy, either, and maybe he should have just told Fitz. Honesty is the best policy and all. I have seen people call what he and sophie were doing in Legacy 'cute,' so I don't think this part of the confession is intellectual dishonesty either.

'Forget that 'if they cheat with you, they'll cheat on you' thing! It only happened because they (you know, teenagers) were in love! And Sophie didn't even know it! How sweet is that?!

I haven't seen anyone talk about if they cheat with you, they'll cheat on you, but

'People can be allowed to criticize a part of a work and still like that work'

Very true. I think that might be the bigger problem with shipping discourse in this specific fandom, that I haven't seen in others.

.

.

In other words, I think that what the person was saying was actually right, but just too mean. So no one listened really.

I think that if you like Sokeefe, then just like it. You don't have to make arguments that are kind of weird, just feel free to enjoy it!

But when someone criticizes it, don't be afraid to read why. they might be right about a few things

.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Ok but Dick is so big brother shaped. Plz give the kid a sibling.

The trials of working for a young married couple with a child, Alfred sighed. Some of the things he'd clearly forgotten in the intervening years.

And he wasn't sure what was worse. Walking in on a private conversation or walking in on said married couple in- or about to be in a compromising position. But he did know there was a third worse option that was a mix of both.

Still. At least everyone was still mostly clothed. And he wouldn't need to see if his insurance benefits covered therapy.

Whatever the precipitating factors were didn't matter. He was sure it would all come out eventually. Though he had suspicions.

Bruce had been obnoxiously fussy where you were concerned. Even more than normal.

So either a spat had been resolved or he'd decided you were terminally ill.

He glanced up from getting the stains out of Dick's school uniform and quirked an eyebrow but other wise said nothing as you loaded the washing machine- you perfered to wash your own intimates and he didn't blame you. Even if he wasn't phased. But from his understanding, you'd been doing laundry since you were 8. So- it was probably equal parts it being weird to have someone else washing your undergarments and having some sense of normalcy. Either way it was less work for the staff- something they appreciated.

"You're home early," he observed watching you start folding shirts- he wasn't sure how many jobs you'd worked but he suspected a considerable amount of retail.

"I've been working from upstairs," you tell him. "Working at the office has been making things... distracting for everone."

"Ah yes. The unintended consequences of the lime light."

"I'm not sure why interviews keep going viral-"

"It's not the interviews," Alfred snorted. "People find you fascinating."

When you roll your eyes he smiled just a little. You seemed to have a very inaccurate picture of yourself outside of a courtroom. You were charming. And had enough wits about you to keep up with Bruce- in his public persona or out of it. To the outside you looked like an odd couple. A lawyer with a deadpan biting wit and a reformed playboy... He could see the appeal of you. Why people still fixated on you.

"Well calling my office is rude," you tell him. "Particularly when we can't unlist the number."

"Yes that is annoying I'd imagine; how-"

"I have a secretary filter calls. Interview requests and weirdos get rerouted to wherever all the PR shit goes and Ranga sends me anything important."

He nodded. He'd never considered how you'd managed to get anything done working from home. But it made sense.

"How many socks can this kid run through?" you muse, folding what felt like the 50th pair.

"It is an eternal mystery. How every child I've ever known winds up with so many mismatched socks."

"That's why I just bought socks that it didn't matter if they matched- until I was in law school it was a good day and I was on my A game if they came out of the same pack."

Alfred shuddered reflexively and wondered if you still did that, he'd never paid attention to your socks.

"Alfred where is- Oh hey Y/N," Dick said, "Bruce wants you."

"Why?" you ask, returning his one armed hug when he skipped over.

He shrugged, "Didn't ask."

"Rude."

He grinned, "You piss people off today?"

"Language. And just Gordon- that doesn't count."

"How come?"

"ACAB until they stop beating up civilians and taking bribes, Dickie.""

"Please don't say that in interviews, someone will shoot you," Dick said. "This is like the longest it's bee since someone tried to shoot you. B finally stopped trying to hire bodyguards."

"Pretty sure they could get bribed, baby bird."

"I couldn't-"

"I bribe you all the time," you tell him, ruffling his hair.

"It's not a bribe if you do it before I act up. It's just an incentive," he huffed.

"True enough, finish folding your socks," you tell him swooping down to kiss his cheek before going to find Bruce.

[likeastarstar]

2:41 AM - Taehyung

You met him at a club, one of those grimy ones where it was hard to breathe because of all the smoke and every surface was a little sticky but the music was good and it was dark enough in there to do anything you wanted to without anyone judging you.

You assumed that's why he was there- the darkness part.

He didn't really like when people watched him, hated being judged for his less then stellar choices, but he smirked when he noticed you staring at him. You already knew his name because everyone knew his name- everyone knew the whispered rumors and secret suspicious but his name was really the only concrete fact everyone was totally sure about.

Kim Taehyung.

"Has anyone ever told you that staring is rude?" He sneered, leaning in towards you.

"Sorry," You blushed, looking away.

"It's okay, lucky for you, I like staring at you too." Taehyung smiled, "I'm Taehyung- what's your name?"

That was it- a simple introduction and you found yourself in a weird grey space of a relationship. He was everywhere suddenly- in your thoughts, calling you at odd times, showing up in the least expected places. He picked you up from class randomly, texted you to open your front door before you had even gotten out of bed, announced that he was taking you away for the weekend. But as fun as the surprise appearances were, he disappeared just as often.

"I gotta go," He said one day, sitting upright sharply and swinging his legs over the side of your bed. "Going out of town for a bit."

You frowned, rolling onto your side and tucking the sheets around you. You watched him pull his shirt over his head, ripping the view of his golden toned skin away from you. Suddenly, it felt wrong for you to still be nude, tightening your fist around your soft linen sheets.

"Where are you going to this time?" You asked quietly.

He smirked, turning his head to the side to look at you out of the corner of his eye- cocky and careless. You felt your cheeks redden and felt embarrassed that you even asked the question. How dare you ask where he was going- as if he owned you anything at all. You were only sleeping together.

"Why, you wanna come with me?" He teased, leaning over to ruffle your hair childishly.

"I might, if you asked," You grumbled, picking at a loose thread on your bed.

He laughed it off as if you were joking and left you there, alone on your bed.

He had gone days without speaking to you before, that wasn't the issue. But he hadn't ever ignored you so intentionally as he has since that night.

You stared at your phone as if that would make it flash with his name on it, wondering if he was still 'out of town' or if he had just decided that he was done with you. You clenched your fists, trying to keep your hands glued to your sides until you had enough and it was suddenly pressed to your ear. Of course he didn't pick up, he hadn't the last time you called either.

“Um, hey. I know I’ve already tried leaving a message and I’ve texted you a bunch but- I haven’t heard anything back from you in a while. If I did anything, just tell me and we’ll work it out. Or even if it has nothing to do with me- just, call me or something.”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, sighing before sending a second voice message to Taehyung and hanging up.

He wasn’t your boyfriend, definitely not. But you weren’t just friends either- definitely not.

You threw your phone on your nightstand and walked away, changing into your pajamas for the night.

You stared at your bed, wishing Taehyung was in it.

You wondered if the voice message was too much, if it was crossing a boundary that didn’t belong in the grey space the two of you existed in. But it wasn’t fair- you only saw him on his terms, when he was free, if he felt like it. You hadn’t ever been this powerless in your life, it wasn’t normal.

You tired to distract yourself, showering for too long in too hot water. You hadn't even managed to change out of the towel that was wrapped around your body before drifted off to sleep, trying to focus on something light and artificial but a pair of rosy, full lips kept invading your mind when you woke up from a dreamless sleep a few hours later to a buzzing near your head. You squirmed, trying to push away the source of the irritating noise when your hand fell on your phone. Without thinking, you answered it, noting the time on the screen before- 2:41AM

“Hello?” You said irritably. It’s not like you got much sleep to begin with, much less when people called you in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have the good sense to check the caller-ID, still half asleep.

“Hey there gorgeous.”

Taehyung.

You sat up sharply, suddenly wide awake. His voice sounded slurred and out of breath. Kim Taehyung was your favorite person in the world but right now, you weren’t in the mood to listen to some weird mumblings, especially after him effectively ghosting you.

He said your last name in a pleading voice, almost breaking your resolve.

"Are you drunk?" You snapped. He blabbered on in an elongated form of an excuse and you ignored him, rolling your eyes. "I'm going back to bed."

You hung up and tossed your phone away, rolling over into your stomach. Your eyes had closed for all of four seconds when your bedroom window sprang open and in swooped Tae, dirt on his shirt from having to scale the fire escape on the side of your building.

"What the hell," You grumbled, watching him shake off whatever mess he could. "Why did you- No wait, how did you know which window was mine?"

"You have those little paper crane stickers on your window," He explained, back facing towards you. "Also- why is your window not locked? That's really dangerous, what if someone broke in?"

"You're so annoying," You snapped, sitting up in your bed with a huff.

You were about to say more but gave up when Tae turned around sporting a large cut near his hairline and a bruise along his cheek. There was dried blood smeared against his gorgeous, golden skin and it made you recoil in shock.

"Holy shit- what happened," You gasped, springing towards him.

"It's a long story, I don't want to get into it,"

He said simply, pushing your window closed and locking it before sitting on the ledge. "It just hurts and I can't go to a hospital. I didn't- I didn't know where else to go."

You wanted to attach yourself to his side instantly but only then realized you were still in a towel, tightening it around you in a stubborn ploy to maintain the upper hand in this situation.

Taehyung's eyes lingered on your form and smiled as if there wasn't blood dripping down his face, "You look good in a towel."

"Surprised you can see through the blood," You quipped, passing him on the way to your closet to put a shirt on. "Don't you have other friends to deal with this? I don't exactly feel like being the nicest person to you right now."

"You're it, babe." He laughed humorlessly, "I can go, though, if you really want me to."

You glared at him, hating the fact that you didn't hate him at all.

"Whatever, just- change your clothes at least. You're getting dirt everywhere. I'll get you something to change into." You sighed.

You threw the largest shirt and shorts you had directly at him, annoyed that he managed to catch it before it hit him in the face. You left to get the first aid kit laying unused under your bathroom sink, returning to find Taehyung sitting on the ground in his boxers and your shirt happily, "Pants were too small."

You stared at him for a beat too long before springing to action, sitting with your legs folded under you directly in front of him.

"Your face is going to bruise really badly, you deserve it." You mumbled, leaning forward to clean the blood off of his skin with a wet towel.

He pouted, eyes wide with worry, "Really?"

"Maybe even swell," You nodded dramatically, "Get closer, I can't reach."

He moved closer to you and slid his legs on either side of you so that you were tucked neatly between his thighs. You let out a shaky breath, barely able to look him in the eyes. You wanted to be mad at him, you were mad at him a couple hours ago. But now, all you felt was worried and a dull ache in your chest of pure want. Your body craved him like a drug, it was impossible to be this close to him and not fall a little in love with him.

You missed him.

"I missed you," He breathed out as if he could read your mind, "Even missed that frown you give me when I piss you off."

"You're the one who keeps leaving me. You wouldn't have to miss me if you just stayed with me." You pointed out. "This cut doesn't look that bad but I really wish I knew the story behind it."

"I'm still not telling," Taehyung smiled childishly, laying his hands flat on your thighs. You were suddenly aware of the only piece of clothing covering your body being a thin shirt, goosebumps rising on your skin. You swiped the cut with an alcohol wipe and Taehyung flinched, his grip on your thighs tightening to an almost bruising level before you placed a bandage over the cut.

"We're different, you and I. You're just so- good. Are you really okay with the fact that I'm not a good guy?" He said suddenly, surprising you.

You stared up at him with wide eyes- lips parted but not a single word coming out.

Say no.

Your brain was screaming at you, trying to will yourself to accept that the correct answer was no, it wasn't okay with you. You wanted to be with a good person who did the right thing always and never did anything remotely morally grey. White was your color, your only option, and he would never be that so you would never be with him.

"You say yes, I'll never leave you alone." He whispered, "But if you're not- this is the best I can do. I'm not pretending to be someone else and you shouldn't either."

"Yeah, I am." You said softly, watching as the harsh line of his lips turned into a smirk, cupping your face in his hands before leaning in.

"Good, because I wasn't going to let you go if you had asked me to," He murmured, kissing you before your brain could process his words.

He kissed you like he owned you, sleezy and dominant. You melted into him, fingers tracing the bruise cutting across his cheek with enough pressure to make him wince. You took advantage of it, climbing into his lap quickly but holding him back by his throat, "No more disappearing acts."

"Okay," He agreed, nodding eagerly as his lips chased you.

"And you have to answer when I call," You bargained.

"I'll jump off a bridge if you tell me to," Taehyung whined, hands pulling you back towards him.

"No need to be dramatic," You quipped, smiling at the annoyed look on his face before kissing him.

masterlist.

[star-sim]

OKAY UPDATE my friend told me to try the airplane mode hack and pray it doesn't get marked as received? (for future reference to everyone out there: IT DOESN'T WORK LMAO the message is now flagged as read </3)

IT WASN'T EVEN HIM 💀 IT WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND

this is what she sent oml:

[ash] can you send me the most vile embarassing photos you have of [his name] 🙏🙏 also send it to by insta so he can't do anything abt it

this is lwky weird i feel like should not be involved !! why is it a command :|

also ummm me @ her rn... my phone storage was getting too full of my beautiful jungwon and sunoo so unfortunately all my photos of YOUR man are purged so...

i probably have some fossilized ones i forgot to delete from three years ago but i do Not want to dig those out!

should i deliver because it looks kind of bad to leave her on seen 😂😭

okay this is weird

???? like girl????

i feel like there's no winning this one

if you send pictures, she's gonna later use that against you probably "why does ash, his ex gf, have pictures of him (even though that would have been irrelevant to me if i didn't ask her for pictures in the first place)"

if you don't and leave her on seen shes gonna talk... like "omg rude!"

tho lowk you might come off as the cool chill ex if you send pictures and then she'll be like omg and she'll leave him for you and the two of you go walking off into the sunset hand in hand and live happily ever after

that's such a weird thing to ask tho... girl if you want embarrassing photos of ur bf... idk maybe TAKE SOME OF UR OWN??? UR HIS GF WHAT ????

[baenxietydad]

Moon And Sand || Baes + Robbie

@justkeepdancing-nemo @robbie-ryeo

Date: Sometime early January

Marlin and Robbie have a very awkward interaction lol

MARLIN:

  A couple days before Nemo moved back into the dorms, they had a couple errands to run so he thought they’d start at Hatter’s with tea, a snack, and the to-do list. Mu-yeol clicked his pen a couple times before finally getting ready to write.

  “Okay, so.” Mu-yeol began. “What did we come to town for? I forget. I know we had to go to the market but for what? I’m getting old.”

  He wasn’t, not for a fairy anyway. But he was always tired.

  And maybe he did forget, or maybe he was hoping to kill another five minutes in Hatter’s for no reason at all.

  NEMO: 

Nemo had dreaded coming out. Errands meant that he was going back to school soon. School meant– well, Nemo didn’t know. His head hurt thinking about it, even if he knew he needed to get used to it and not be a coward this time.

  So he very much was fine with stalling in Hatter’s for now, blowing a little on his hot cocoa. “Uh, you wanted to go by the market for tupperware…” Nemo mentioned. Appa was determined to send Nemo to school with a tonne of extra meals, convinced that his diet had been one of many factors that contributed to his embarrassing meltdown.

  His eyes flicked up at that moment and spotted someone coming through the door. “Robbie!” he blurted, without even thinking about it. It was instinct. Like a sneeze. 

  MARLIN:

  The neutral facial expression was expected from Mu-yeol. So was calmly sipping his tea. There were also lots of other things that maybe could be expected.

  An eye roll, a scoff, a ‘Nam-min, what are you doing?’ among other things, none of which happened.

  Instead, he set his tea down and very casually said, “Oh, that’s fortunate actually.”

  He turned around in his seat, following Nemo’s eyes, and said while beckoning Robbie over with his palm facing down, “야 Robbie, 이리와, 빨리.” (Ya i-ri-wa, ppal-li.)

  NEMO: 

His eyes widened. What?! What was Appa doing?! Nemo had been a blink away for apologizing but now–?!

  “Appa–” Nemo hissed. He glanced at Robbie and actually tried to shoo him away, even as Marlin beckoned him forward. 

  ROBBIE:

Um. 

  Robbie hadn’t actually expected to see Nemo in Hatters today, which normally would be a very pleasant surprise. Robbie obviously loved seeing Nemo and he smiled big and bright at first when Nemo called his name. Then Robbie realized that Nemo wasn’t alone and Marlin was with him. 

  Marlin, who was calling out to him and telling him to come quickly. Cue Robbie’s nervous laughter as he raised his hand in greeting and made his way over to the table. The whole Marlin situation was…delicate to say the least, and Robbie didn’t want to make anything worse by ignoring him or being rude! That’s why, despite Nemo’s shooing, he still sat down at the table. 

  “안녕하세요,” Robbie said respectfully, dipping his head in a tiny little bow. 

  MARLIN:

  “안녕,” Marlin returned the greeting, ever so slightly nodding his head to him. 

  There was a brief silence, no longer than four or five seconds, as Robbie settled into his seat. Mu-yeol ignored Nemo’s slightly agape jaw and looked directly at Robbie. 

  “I realize I neglected to thank you the other day for helping with Nam-min. I intended to but you can imagine I had a one-track dad mind.” He began in Korean. “So, thank you very much for telling me and everything. 고마워, and I apologize for not thanking you that day.”

  NEMO: 

  What was about to happen?! 

  It could be anything. For a long time Appa and Robbie existed in separate spheres of Nemo's life, which maybe wouldn't be all that weird if they also didn't pretend the other didn't exist. Robbie wasn't as bad as Appa. Robbie did ask about Marlin sometimes, or well, sometimes Nemo talked to Robbie about his abeoji… because how could he not? But with Appa, the rule didn't need to be spoken: don't talk about Robbie. Don't expect Appa to talk about him either. Nemo thought this was stupid and Appa too stubborn, but it was better than being at war. So he followed the rule.

  Now Appa broke the rule.

  Terrible visions of an all-out screaming match passed through Nemo's mind. He sat rigid, terrified. If this went bad, what would he do? Defend Robbie? Usher Appa out? Create a diversion? 

  He definitely didn't expect Appa to thank him. 

  Nemo blinked several times, but was too shocked to do anything more than that. His eyes darted from father to boyfriend in a dizzying mental game of ping pong. 

  ROBBIE:

Robbie wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do or say. This seemed like a normal interaction, one that could happen to anyone, but there were layers. So many layers and those layers weighed on him. 

  Marlin hated Robbie. That was the first layer and also the hardest one to forget because, in a lot of ways, it was the exact reason they were here in the first place. Marlin hating Robbie had affected his and Nemo’s relationship–they were driven closer together, loved harder, felt things more fiercely in the face of his father's disapproval. Marlin's hatred was a fact. 

  But then there was the second layer: Robbie wasn't a vampire anymore, the thing that Marlin hated the most, so he wasn't sure where that left them. He knew Marlin still didn't like him, didn't think he was good for Nemo, but Robbie felt that way about Marlin too. 

  A thing that should be simple, Marlin thanking Robbie, was buried underneath so many hard feelings that the moment was hard to extricate. 

  But Robbie had to try. 

  For Nemo.

  "You're welcome," Robbie said. "Anything to help Nemo, of course." ”

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol shook his head ever so slightly, a silent signal that, no no, that wasn’t entirely it. It was most of the reason Robbie did what he did, but not all of it. Robbie was mature in ways that Tae and Nemo simply weren’t yet and it made him think harder about things. 

  “I know being responsible and looking out for someone isn’t always easy, because sometimes you have to do something that might upset them for a moment to ultimately do what’s best.” He sympathized. “I really appreciate you making the choice that was about looking out for him, even if narcing on him to his dad might not have felt right.”

  ROBBIE:

Robbie was maybe a little bit tempted to remind Marlin that he probably knew a little bit more about protecting people and doing things others might not like simply because he'd been alive a lot longer than Marlin, but he knew Marlin really was just a grateful father and it was easy to forget that Robbie was actually over 300 years old. 

  "It was the right thing to do," he said and then looked at Nemo. "I'm sorry I upset you, Nemo, but I'm really glad you're okay." He reached over and squeezed his boyfriend's hand. 

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol sipped his tea and snorted, rolling his eyes in that way he does when Nemo roasts him accurately or something. 

  “He was over being mad in five minutes, I promise.” He said, glancing at Nemo. “We were able to work out a plan in time to keep him in school, which is what he wanted, thanks to you.”

  He nodded in Robbie’s direction. “And I’m very grateful, again.”

  NEMO: 

What was worse? Appa and Robbie hating each other?? Or uh– whatever this was?

Nemo couldn’t decide. Whatever this was, though, was a very specific type of humiliating. They were basically talking like he wasn’t even there! Nemo shrank in his seat a little as his ears went red. This was just so weird and embarrassing. Yah, Appa should have just– well- called Robbie or something! Why did they have to do this in front of him?

But he didn’t dare complain either. He’d wanted something like this for a long time. Just, y’know – a civil conversation.

Once again, his eyes darted between Robbie and Marlin. Appa’s final comment, though, irritated him too much to stay quiet (wasn’t that just the way with fathers?) “Um, I’m here too y’know, I can talk for myself,” Nemo broke in. “Robbie knows I’m not mad at him anymore.” 

  MARLIN:

  “I’m just assuring him you weren’t too upset about it,” Mu-yeol said, patting Nemo’s hand. “But you’re right, sorry.”

  He…didn’t think about this interaction past thanking Robbie actually. And telling him ‘go away now’ would just be rude, though he very much did not want to continue this interaction since he’d just unintentionally pissed Nemo off in front of Robbie, who surely hated him and thought he was a terrible father. 

  I can speak for myself Aiya Nemo why did you say it like that? As if he was actively not letting you speak and hadn’t just misstepped in reassuring your boyfriend that he hadn’t committed a grave offense. 

  Anyway. He smiled politely and, in an attempt to escape this situation that he was very aware he had started by calling Robbie over, pushed his tea aside. 

  “I’ll get out of here.” He sighed, lightly slapping the table. “You don’t need to run errands with me Nam-min if you don’t want.”

  NEMO: 

What? Now Appa was leaving?? What?

Well, Nemo didn’t really know what was going on, but he did think that was bad. Agh, he should’ve just shut up! Who cared about his pride? What if this never happened again?!

“No!” Nemo blurted quickly. “I mean! Finish your tea, Appa. Robbie, you can, um, you can join us, right? If you want, I mean, just for a little.” 

  MARLIN:

  Daebak. He was turning Nemo loose to hangout with his boyfriend and he was rejecting it? Wild stuff. Okay then…

  “Ah, I suppose you’re right, I did pay for this one.” Not that Mr. Hatter was unreasonable, but you know, you shouldn't waste something you pay for. 

  Sooooo…what now?

  ROBBIE:

Robbie didn’t really want to stay, if he was being honest, although it was a complicated situation and spending time with Nemo was always usually a wonderful way to spend his time. It was just that Marlin made him exceedingly uncomfortable. Especially this new, “Pro-Robbie” Marlin. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were some sort of ulterior motives behind Marlin’s actions, although that was probably a little more the distrusting 300-year-old vampire in him that felt that way. 

  He wasn’t exactly that person anymore, so he hesitated and then nodded. 

  “Ah, yes, I’d um–I’d love to stay,” he said with a smile. “Just for a bit, though, like you said. I don’t want to derail father-son time.”

  NEMO:

Nemo also wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but it was the only chance he might ever have to, hopefully, smooth things over with Appa and Robbie. He didn’t think they’d be friends. There was too much bad stuff between them. But if they could just get to the point of… having a conversation? If Nemo could mention Robbie to Appa without Appa acting like Nemo was committing some great, terrible sin by staying with him? He’d consider it a win. 

  It was all up to Nemo though. The pressure fell on his shoulders, heavy as rocks. He swallowed and searched his brain for something for both Robbie and Appa to talk about. 

  “Um, great! So ah, you um, come in here to study or something?” Nemo started here. “Appa, Robbie wants to be a veterinarian. Isn’t that nice?” 

  MARLIN:

  “Ah, it’s not really— we’re not — errands aren’t anything special. I’m sure he’d rather be still asleep.”

  Marlin bit back the knee-jerk instinct to say ‘no money in that,’ even if it was true. There wasn’t much money in professional dance either, not unless you got to star choreographer level, and yet he was financing his son’s dream of that. 

  “That’ll be nice.” Mu-yeol said. What was he supposed to say? He wanted out of this situation. “If he came to study, why don’t you help him?”

  The let me get out of here was tacitly encouraged, though his expression and mannerisms remained calm. Cool. A little too chill. 

  He sipped at his tea and, reluctantly, said something else. “How many years of school left?” There. Fine. He did Nemo, he asked a question. 

  ROBBIE:

  Robbie frowned, just a bit, at Marlin’s attempt to get out of spending time with his son. It was clear Nemo still wanted to spend time with him and here Marlin was trying to get Nemo to stay in the coffee shop with Robbie. Either that or it was a dig at Nemo not studying, in which case Robbie wanted to tear his head off, but he suppressed that particular thought. Ha. 

  The question Marlin asked caught Robbie off-guard and he blinked. He’d been so lost in his thoughts. “Oh, um, like four still. Probably. I mean, I want to do it the right way, actually go through all of the courses even if I know a lot of it. Plus there really is so much I don’t know yet. Animals were never something that I studied much, even though I’ve always loved them.” 

  NEMO:

“He’s good with them too,” Nemo chimed in.

  Maybe that hadn’t always been true. As a vampire, Robbie naturally frightened off many animals who could sense that he was a powerful predator. But even then, he’d been gentle with Lovely, and Lovely had quickly trusted Robbie. Now, he was quite the happy little hamster and always squeaked and purred. And Robbie also got on well with all the animals at Ruff to Fluff–

  Daebak. Did Marlin know Robbie worked there now? Nemo had no idea. Probably not, considering the unspoken don’t-talk-about-Robbie rule.

  “He um, he even started working at Ruff to Fluff. So he’s getting lots of practice with animals. I’m sure he’ll be great.” Nemo flashed a smile at Robbie and squeezed his hand again– under the table.

  MARLIN:

  “I’d hope you’re good with them. You’ll probably get bitten at least thirty percent less if you’ve actually got a way with animals.” Mu-yeol said, sticking with easy, inoffensive small talk. 

  He didn’t comment on him working with Nemo which was a tacit approval. 

  “Does pride u have a vet program? Or do you have to look at other vet schools?”

  ROBBIE:

"Pride U has a vet program which is great because I was already an established student. I also really like Pride U and Swynlake and I'm glad I don't have to go anywhere else." 

  Robbie looked at Marlin and then back at Nemo, fidgeting. He hoped he was doing okay. Was he passing the dad test? He hated this. 

  NEMO:

This was awkward. This was uncomfortable. He knew that Robbie and Appa both didn’t want to be having this conversation and Nemo forced it on them.

  Despite all of this, Nemo thought it was going well. Sure, it was stilted! But it was better than ignoring the other’s existence! 

  So Nemo smiled. “Yeah, and there’s even the special clinic for magical creatures! I dunno if Robbie will do anything with that but– it’s pretty cool. I bet Pride U’s the only school in England with something like that.” 

  MARLIN:

  He was not even administering the dad test yet, actually. Thanking him was an olive branch and this conversation stood in place of a proper introduction. The dad test was something for later, closer to if and when he actually decided Robbie was, say, welcome to celebrate Chuseok with them. This tense conversation was simply a knee-deep wade in the water for Nemo’s benefit.

  Mu-yeol wasn’t sure if Nemo so blatantly selling him made this more or less awkward.

  “Can’t imagine one anywhere else,” Mu-yeol said. “Have you thought about where you might want to start practicing, if not here? Years away, but. Always smart to look into areas where vet practitioners are needed.”

  ROBBIE:

“With the forest being so close to here, I always sort of assumed I’d stay in Swynlake, or somewhere near here. The Inn is my home–has been my home for awhile and leaving it isn’t really something I’d want to do. There are plenty of opportunities around here, which is nice. So many animals I can help. I think it’s that way everywhere, though, so really if I changed my mind it wouldn’t be too hard to find somewhere that needed a vet. 

  Robbie looked down at his hands and then back up at Marlin. “My goal is to help as many animals as possible. I guess it doesn’t really matter where I go.” 

  MARLIN:

  Perhaps as a fairy he should find this endearing. ‘I just want to help animals’ should strike all sorts of chords with him. It was sweet, and admirable, but nothing more than ‘that’s nice’ came to his mind. He had to admit it was a lovely goal to have, and knew he should, as a fairy, be impressed. 

  Mu-yeol recognized this as coming not from a place of distaste for Robbie’s ambitions — they were perfectly fine — but from the same place as  his own father’s ambivalence to So-yeon’s goals, and Bae Tae-il had adored his daughter-in-law. Mu-yeol was hardened the way his father was, where lofty, sugar-sweet dreams like ‘I want to save the environment’ and ‘I just want to take care of animals’ came across as idealistic and trite. 

  He supposed it was better than Robbie having no direction at all; no, he knew it was much better. And to his credit, it was achievable. Unlike the ambitions So-yeon had that he fell in love with. Animals wanted to be helped. Humans did not want to take care of their planet. 

  “That’s nice,” was still all he said. He didn’t know what else to say to that. But he did smile. 

  NEMO:

“Yeah!” Nemo said, more enthusiastically which was in part for Robbie–well, mostly for him– but for Appa too.

  After all, he noticed Appa’s smile. Even if it was just polite and forced, Nemo wanted to encourage it. If he was happy and bright, maybe Appa would finally see that Robbie was good for him. And he really was, on paper. He was smart, he was diligent, he got amazing grades and worked hard. He could teach Nemo good study habits! (Well, he could try. Nemo wasn’t sure there was anything Robbie could do for his windswept brain.)

  “It’s really hard stuff, honestly, but Robbie’s smart so he can do it,” mentioned Nemo. He wasn’t sure what else to say now… he needed to transition into another topic, probably, since Appa and Robbie were so painfully awkward with each other… 

  “We um, still practice Hangul,” was what he came up with. Welp. Better than nothing. 

  ROBBIE:

  That’s nice. 

  Robbie almost wanted to laugh. It was nice, wasn’t it? Him wanting to help animals. So why did it make his stomach churn just a little when Marlin said it? Probably because Marlin still didn’t like him, despite how hard he was trying to seem like maybe he did. Or maybe Robbie wasn’t being fair. Maybe it was Robbie who was seeing the worst in Marlin when it wasn’t really there. Either way, Robbie was trying very hard not to seem annoyed or offended so he smiled. 

  “We do,” Robbie said. “Nemo is doing great. Pretty soon he’ll be writing in Korean for everything.” 

  MARLIN:

  “I’m glad someone eventually convinced him to learn Hangul.” Mu-yeol said, even if it had hurt a little that Nemo was never interested in it before Robbie. He tried so hard to give his son their language, culture, and history despite living abroad, but teaching Nemo to read and write in Korean was an uphill battle that he gave up on early on.

  If he really fought Nemo on it, he could have made him. Just like he required Nemo to speak to him in Korean at home and tried to encourage it in public, he could have imposed mandatory hangul practice. But with how much Nemo protested he worried that Nemo would reject their language fully if he made too big a deal out of it.

  He didn’t want Nemo to associate Korean with punishment or consider it a chore. He’d rather his son not be able to read in Korean but speak it well with his father, than struggle to communicate with his son fully because he refused to use a language imposed on him. No matter how fluent Mu-yeol was in English, it was much easier for him to talk about important topics in their native language, and the thought of losing that connection with Nam-min…yes, giving up on Hangul was worth it.

  “Though, we don’t really use written language in pixie hollows, so I get why when he was six he was like ‘how about no.’  I’m very impressed with his progress in so little time, thank you, Robbie.” He turned to Nemo and smiled. “Your handwriting has gotten really nice, pretty much as neat as your English handwriting. And good with your double consonants now, Appa’s very proud.”

  This…this was finally feeling bearable. Talking about Korean things, he could do this easily. 

  NEMO:

Hey, Nemo would take it. Even if there was what Nemo felt was a hint of passive-aggressiveness in Appa’s tone. At least that passive-aggressiveness was toward Nemo and not Robbie, and maybe Nemo even deserved it. He could look back at his childhood and regret his own reluctance to practice his Korean. All the reasons he had then had been selfish– worse, they’d been reasons rooted in shame. And Nemo wasn’t ashamed of being Korean or anything, it was just…well, he’d already been so different as a kid, since he wasn’t born in Enchantra and his whole wing thing and he didn’t even have two parents like most seedlings and and and…

Whatever. He squirmed, swallowed down his embarrassment, and took it. At least he was fixing things now. 

  “Thanks. Um, Robbie’s a real good teacher,” mentioned Nemo. 

  ROBBIE:

Robbie wasn’t sure it was his teaching so much as it was that he wasn’t Marlin. Sometimes it was easier to be interested in things if your peers were the ones talking about it than when it was your parents. So Robbie definitely had that on his side. Plus, “I try, but it helps that you’re interested and you put in the effort. It also helps that I have a lot of practice too,” he added. 

  Robbie wanted to say that when you do something for 300 plus years you end up rather proficient, but he figured maybe that kind of comment wouldn’t go over so well. 

  Still he really wanted to say it. 

  He didn’t. 

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol didn’t know how to keep this conversation…safe. It was awkward. He was awkward. Robbie was awkward. Nemo was awkward. 

  Aish couldn’t he just thank Robbie and do interacting later? No. All right, ask something, come on Mu-yeol. 

  “Nam-min. If Robbie isn’t busy today I can go to the market myself. You can stay with him if you’d rather.” He said instead. His gaze only briefly landed on Robbie but it was disinterested at worst rather than poison. “But if you came to study Robbie I’ll —“ he clicked his tongue and mimed removing the Nemo distraction. 

  ROBBIE: 

  Robbie didn't want to interrupt Nemo and Marlin’s day any more than he already had. He actually hated it, to be honest, because Marlin made him feel so awkward and uncomfortable. That was definitely something he would need to work on in the future, but not today.

  Plus, Marlin had already tried to leave once and Nemo had said not to go. He clearly didn't want to ditch his father for Robbie, nor should he, and really the only thing to do was bow out gracefully. Take the pressure off of Nemo instead of piling it on. 

  "Oh, you guys already had plans," Robbie said with a smile. "It was really nice having tea with you, but I really do have a few things I need to go do." He turned and looked at Nemo, "We should hang out later, though, if you want."

  Then he looked at Marlin. "It was nice talking to you." 

  MARLIN:

  Mu-yeol nodded and politely ever so slightly bowed his head at Robbie as he got ready to leave. Nice was a generous way of describing it, it had been painfully awkward, but it was…fine. And you know, ‘fine’ for them was the same as nice. It was practically rainbows and butterflies.

  “어 (eo),” Mu-yeol said, figuring it was good to agree it was nice. “Thank you for having tea with us.”

  There. He was nice, welcoming even, no matter how…cautious. Nemo would appreciate that, right?

  He cast a furtive glance over at Nemo right before he finished off his tea.

  NEMO:

Nemo was relieved that he didn’t have to choose – Robbie removed that pressure from him.

  Because no matter what, he felt like there weren’t have been a right choice, right? If he stayed with Appa, Appa would insist he went with Robbie, and if he stayed with Robbie, Robbie might insist he go with Appa. It was dumb. There shouldn’t be all these unseen pressures, all these put-on manners. Wistfully, Nemo imagined what it might have been like if several years ago, Marlin hadn’t turned so quickly on Robbie. If they had started to heal earlier. Maybe running into each other would have been easy, even natural.

  At least things were healing now though, right? Better late than never. Nemo should stay optimistic.

  And so he just smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll text you! C’mon Appa, the market calls,” he joked, also getting up.

  And with a wave at Robbie, the Baes left Hatter’s. 

[ioletia]

To those that think that we gays are on equal footing with the straights, let me tell you some anecdotes.

Long read.

I worked at Lowes for a bit. I was out in the garden telling people that half the stuff the place sold wasn't even capable of growing in this zone, no less this climate- and if they bought a Bradford Pear (the tree that smells like dried cum) that they were literally going to hell. All of that isn't really important, but I do want people to know that owning, planting, or cultivating the Bradford Pear will literally send you to hell. Back to the point...

The second year I worked there a new cashier was brought on. This was super common as turnover in any retail job is incredibly high, but this one was a guy. Do you know how rare that is? I don't know why, but the entire cashier and customer service team were women. So, having a guy finally on the team was great- mostly because I thought he was cute. He was a ruddy bear of a boy with a viking-esque beard and a developing beer belly. I'd take that out to dinner. And, after a few months of casually chatting, finding out he was bi, single, and horny, I asked him out.

"Hey, you're free after work, want to go out to dinner?"

Simple. To the point. And the response? He just laughed. He didn't say no, he just laughed. And not a slight giggle, no full belly, tit shaking laugh. So, I glared at him and walked away.

The next day he asks me when I'm taking him to dinner. To which I responded, "You're just looking for free food." To which, yes, he answers. He was. And I responded that I was no longer interested- and I wasn't. I don't have space for that in my life- he showed me what kind of person he was, and I really should have known better.

Because, over the next week he continues to kind of hound me. He calls me over when he doesn't need me. He's just around me, more so than he'd ever been before. It was annoying, but it wasn't anything I couldn't chalk up to just doing his job. All the while I'm giving him the cold shoulder, I helped if he asked, but I didn't really want to make small talk with this person and I certainly wasn't seeking him out. I wasn't rude or cruel, just not taking the time to be near him by choice.

After that he sort of disappears. I think nothing of it. He finally got the message and stopped bothering me. He still worked there, I would see him around, but he seemed perfectly happy to leave me alone which suited me fine.

About a month or two later I get called into the manager's office. Guess what? He reported me for asking him out? I still don't understand the gist of what I was being reprimanded for, as the manager was like, "We don't care if you're gay or ask people out, but don't harass people." Like, okay? They said it was an "anonymous" report, but it wasn't. I told them this and they sort of threw their hands up saying they couldn't confirm that. I explained what happened, but, again, "anonymous" report, so they couldn't really act on anything. It was just really weird.

I, personally, don't think I took it to the level of harassment. I asked him once and dropped it when the interest wasn't there. I acted professional after, but no longer sought this person out to chat. But, because of this, I got targeted. Over the next few months management sort of did everything they could to get me to quit and/or fire me. They harassed me. And then the pandemic happened and I left, which is a whole other story.

Another story. I worked at a restaurant as a host for bit and one of the people I worked with was a tran-woman. We hit it off, because... Duh. The kitchen staff on the on the other hand- they didn't like her. They didn't like me. Oh, but the young girls? They would get free food whenever they asked. The kitchen staff? All older guys. Management didn't really care about this. The kitchen staff were openly hostile towards us, but management didn't care. Eventually, I left. I couldn't really take that nonsense anymore. What really broke my back was that half the servers, who were said young girls the kitchen would hit on, basically took a vacation to Florida for a brat summer. And we we're so understaffed, and I was so stressed, that I left. Shortly after I left, the trans-woman I worked with was fired. Allegedly- no, not even alleged, this didn't happen- this trans-woman hit on the dishwasher. She denies it, to which... Yeah, she had men eating out of her hand, she didn't want nor need the dishwasher. But, she was fired because the kitchen staff all circled round and said she did. And the icing on the cake? The male manager, who was married and had a kid on the way, hit her up on grindr after she was fired. Disgusting.

The point is that during my decade and a half working in retail, restaurants, and customer service I have seen literally dozens of straight people date people they work with- or otherwise ask someone out and get dismissed. Unless someone takes it too far, like stalking, or obvious harassment, or whathaveyou, no one gets talked to by management. No one gets in trouble for being straight. But if you're gay, or bi, or trans, or anything not hetero-normative, you need to leave your sexuality, your existence, at home. You need to be "normal" at work, which is either completely inoffensively LGBT+... Or straight. And even then, you can just be targeted because people don't like you.

When people say that we're equal to straight people now just because we can get married and not directly be fired for being LGBT+, that's a lie. We're not. You can be fired for being LGBT+. And that fact that I live in a liberal area that votes consistently Democrat, speaks to how systemic this lack of equality is. It doesn't matter where you live...

WHICH IS WHY! I say we should make every LGBT+. Let's get those gay bombs rolling people! We started with the frogs, now let's do the people!

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x​ @kai-kai-bookshelf​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @hsinmyheart​ @moonchild1​ @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie​ @fangirls94​ @jinsalpaca​ @ggukkieland​

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 02 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Growing Closer

You find Billy walking away from his locker, ready to go home. He's alone this time, and you heard something about Stacy being mad at him. You wonder what he did to her. Or if he just got tired and is now aiming for someone else.

“Hargrove.” You call when you're closer enough to be heard. Billy turns around immediately, and you both stop in the middle of the hall. “Do you happen to have some time? We need to discuss the calendar.”

“Sure.” He simply says, and it's clear to you he's pissed off already. He was forced into the program, so it's only normal he doesn't want to do that.

“We can hit the library. It remains open for two hours after class.” You can't help but notice some people staring. But that isn't a surprise. You and Billy are as different as day and night, and nobody expects to see you two talking.

“Sure.” He repeats, and a fun expression crosses his face before he steps aside, gesturing for you to walk.

Chuckling, you furrow your eyebrows, starting to make your way to the library.

You know the place by heart since you're here at least three times a week. Waving at the teacher who stays in the reception, you pick a table in the back, so your chattering won't bother anyone. Taking a seat, you watch as Billy settles down across from you.

It's a little weird at first, and a silence falls in between you two. You suddenly realize you've been staring at him, way too focused on his blue eyes. You didn't know Billy's eyes were so beautiful. But you quickly clear your throat, searching on your bag for your notebook.

“I made you this planner.” Pulling the paper sheet off the notebook, colorful by many different marker colors, you slide it over to him. Billy's eyes fall on it immediately, eyebrows raising. “It's just to help you keep up with everything until the end of the year. More stuff will probably be add, but don't worry, I'll let you know.”

“You have everything figured out, don't you?” He finally speaks up, holding the paper in his hands.

“I know you don't want to do this. But this is senior year and you're almost free. Just a little longer and this will be over.” Offering him a small smile, you put a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I won't repeat the year. My grades are enough to get me through.” He sounds a little angry, and you sigh.

You don't know what to say to make him cooperate if he doesn't want to. “Look, you can't get out of the Improvement Program. But you can pick another tutor. So if you want, I have a list of everyone who's still available and maybe if there's someone you already know or happen to be friends with–” As you speak, you start looking in your bag for the small blueish paper. “–you just have to talk to Mrs Martinez and–”

“I want you to be my tutor.” His voice startles you since it's a little too loud and because of the silence, it echoes a bit. “But just because I know you're the smartest person in this school.”

Biting your lip, you nod, not sure how you feel about his compliment. “Thanks... I try.”

“You freaking succeed,” Billy mutters, cupping his hands above the table.

There's heat creeping through your cheeks so you look away, bringing back to mind what else you must talk to him about. “So, the next project is a presentation on History about World War I. Our part is about the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, the invasion of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and the July crisis. The happenings before the war was set.”

“Great.”

“Shhh.” Someone says, and you look at a small group of people on your left.

“You shut up, asshole.” Billy raises his voice a little, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“Hey. Don't say that.” You warn him, giving the boy an apologetic look. “We're at a library, we're supposed to be quiet.”

“Excuse me.” Mr Williams comes, standing a few feet away. “Some students are complaining about your chattering, so I'll have to ask you to leave, please.”

“Oh...” Blushing a little, you start gathering your stuff. “Sorry, Mr Williams. We'll leave.” Billy is just about to say something when you give him a look.

You're quickly outside again, fixing the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “We...” Moving out of the way of some people heading to the library, you set into his pace, walking side by side. “We'll need some time to work on everything. So we can switch between your place and mine because doing things in the library won't work.” You feel a little shy to propose this, but it's not a big deal. You'll be doing this until the end of the year, so it's quite inevitable. “If that's ok with you, of course.”

“We should hit your place then. My father is home today, so... It just won't work.” There's a change in his voice, and you glance at him.

“My mother is home too. But she won't bother us.” Walking a little faster, you gesture at your car. “Just follow me.”

Billy nods, and you smile, giving him a little wave.

The school is empty, and so are the streets around it, so you have no trouble speeding away. Keeping your eyes on the review mirror, it only takes twenty minutes to get to your house, so you park on your usual spot, stepping out of the car and waiting for Billy to do the same. When he finally joins you on the porch, you move to unlock the door.

Billy couldn't help but feel lucky to be at her place. He never thought he'd come here, under any circumstances. Trying not to let her notice, he allows his eyes to wander a little as she opens the door, taking in the place (Y/N) calls home. It has a weird feeling for him, almost as if the place is sacred, somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.

“My mother is nice. But she may say some embarring stuff so... Be prepared.” Following her inside, Billy notices as her mother looks at them, eyes going a little wide to see him. He wonders if she isn't used to her daughter bringing boys home. Knowing (Y/N), he knows she's not. “Mom, this is Billy Hargrove. I told you about him yesterday, remember? From the Improvement Program.”

She told her mother about him. So yes, she was thinking about him. Maybe just for a couple of seconds, maybe just as someone she knows, who she has told to help. But it doesn't matter. (Y/N) was thinking about him, and for now, it's enough.

“Of course.” She stands up, coming to give her daughter a quick hug and shake Billy's hand. “I'm Amanda. (Y/N)'s mother.”

“It's good to meet you, Mrs–”

“Call me Amanda kid, or else I feel terribly old.” She jokes, kindly smiling. “I believe you'll be hanging around here a lot because of school. But don't worry, I won't get in your way.”

“Thanks, mom. We'll be in the dining room.” (Y/N)'s light touch on his forearm is enough to make him shot her a glance, almost too desperate, something in him wanting to ask her why she did such a thing. Billy curses himself as he follows her to the dining room for feeling so stupid. It's just a freaking touch. On his freaking arm. And she wasn't even giving it much thought.

As Billy settles down on the table, (Y/N) moves the centerpiece to the edge so they'll have more space. “Do you want anything? Water? Or some chips? I happen to have some.”

Her voice sends Billy into some kind of stupor. A guy like him shouldn't feel this way. (Y/N) is just a girl, and he had many. But none of them ever made him feel like this. Like his heart is trying to jump off his chest. After a year, he did think he got over it. But he was wrong. Billy didn't want to be this close to (Y/N), always watching her from a safe distance. But this stupid school had to put them together, so damn close. Look at him now, seated on her dining table, staring at her like a complete idiot.

Just because she offered him water and freaking chips.

“Water is nice.” He mumbles, eyes on her back as she walks away, passing behind his chair. A sweet scent irradiates from her. Like flowers, he doesn't know which one though, like freaking sunshine.

Laughing at his stupidity, Billy looks down at his hands. How can someone smell like sunshine? It's illogical.

“Get it together, she's just a girl,” Billy says to himself, resting his back against the chair and taking his jacket off, laying on the chair next to him. Girls are nothing new to him. He had they all figured out, their ways, how to break them, how to please them, how to bend them to his will.

But not (Y/N).

A nice girl like her is immune to his tricks. And that's good because if she wasn't, it would mean she could also fall on someone's traps. Like Tommy, or Jimmy, or Jackson. The very thought of those assholes with her, touching, caressing, kissing... It disgusts him, and he's quick to push such images away.

“Did you say something?” (Y/N) asks, coming back from the kitchen and handing him a glass with cold water. Once she's close enough, he takes a deep breath, and her sweet scent almost drives him mad.

She's not a girl for you, get it together. “No.” He mumbles, taking long sips before putting the glass down. “So what now?” He sounds a little rude, so he immediately clears his throat after, eyes on (Y/N) as she takes a seat next to him on the round table instead of across from him. Billy finds it odd, but he's thankful for the proximity. This way, he can be surrounded by her candy-like scent, trying to memorize it so he could play it back later. When he's into the nightmare he calls home.

You're just about to start, History books already on the table, since you'll begin with the presentation, notebooks and papers so you can take notes, but then you look at Billy. There's a bruise on the apple of his cheek that you haven't noticed it before.

“Did you get into a fight?” You ask, leaning slightly forward to take a better look.

“What?” There's a moment of confusion on his face before it changes. “Yeah.”

“Did you win?”

“In a way.” It doesn't look like he'll say anything else.

“Well, if someone punches you, make sure to beat them up.” Smiling a little, you take the History book, opening it on chapter 7. “What exactly do you know about–”

“Are you still dating Steve?”

The question takes you by surprise, making you nervously giggle. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just curious.” He shrugs his shoulders, tilting his head to the side. “Saw you two talking earlier today and he wouldn't be happy to know we'll be around each other a lot.”

“Steve is my friend. We dated last year but only for two months.” Avoiding Billy's eyes, you go through the book, not really paying attention to anything. You can feel his stare, and for some reason, your cheeks start heating up.

“Who broke up with who?”

Chuckling, you turn your body towards him. “Why do you want to know, Billy?” Maybe he's just trying to procrastinate. “Because if you're just trying to delay things I–”

“No, I really want to know.” He leans forward, pulling the book closer to him. “You and Harrington don't fit together, so I was surprised to see you hanging out with him last year.”

“Steve and I got pretty close when he dropped the jerk act. And we were both single so we decided to give it a try.” The only reason you're telling Billy this is because it's not a secret. Some people know and they probably didn't put any effort into keeping it hidden. “But it didn't click. We were dating but it wasn't really romantic, so...” You smile to remember it, and the memory that comes back is definitely a secret. Nancy is the only one who knows, her and Steve, obviously. But you guess it's ok to tell Billy, it's quite funny. And silly. “We... We never really kissed, you know?”

“What?” His voice startles you, and the genuine confusion on his face only makes you laugh. “You're joking.”

“I'm not, and if this gets out, I'll know it was you.” With a finger pointing at his face, you fake a threatening face. “So keep it between us or else.”

Pinching his eyebrows together, Billy seems amused. “Or else what?” His voice gets lower, as he leans closer.

“Or else I'll have no choice but to make out with Steve in front of the whole school.” In a sassy tone, you smile, biting your tongue not to laugh at his expression. Billy is... Impressed? Surprised, maybe. Something tells you he wasn't expecting this answer.

“Ew. Please don't.”

“Then don't tell anyone.” Shrugging your shoulders, you pull your feet up, crossing your legs on the chair. “Now, C'mon. World War I.”

“One more question and we get to it.” As he speaks, you feel him pulling your hand away from the notebook, forcing you to give him attention. “Why in the hell didn't you and Steve–”

“We kissed. I mean, those quick kisses, you know. Like when you say hi or goodbye. Just a peck in the lips. But that was it.”

“That was it?”

“That was it.” Giggling again, you assure him. Why is it so important to him anyway? “Now, can we start?”

You watch as Billy's eyes remain on you, burning, lingering. After a while, his lips break into a smile and he looks down at the book, shaking his head lightly. “Let's start.”

×

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin

[allexiaah]

can you leave my friends alone. it’s fucking weird you’re going around trying to get them banned from rp servers, if you don’t like them then stay away from them it’s not that hard

Putting me back in the ring are we? Fuckssake thought we were over this

Alright I'm feeling like entertaining you for a minute, so I'll answer this. First off, honestly, the fact you're not on anon is bold and almost admirable. But you lost it all the second you started typing so that's unfortunate. At least you're not a fucking coward about it though! You have that going for you :)

You can say whatever you want about me going out of my way to get Ash banned, but that didn't happen and honestly he's a fucking creep and I wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. horrible person. I'd say get better friends, but I mean trash attracts flies so I don't think you have any intentions of becoming a half decent human being any time soon

I won't bother my mutuals and followers with this horseshit that should've died a damn year ago so the rest is under the cut

What actually happened is that I wanted to join an RP server. I saw someone in the twins spot, and, under the suspicion it was Ash, dmed a mod and asked about it. Y'know, so i could avoid him if it was him, because he's actively a piece of shit for the sake of it, and I never want to see his rotten ass again. And it was! And considering he's been banned from at least two servers I knew about before, I pretty much said, "okay, good luck with that guy and keep an eye on him."

Later, I had a friend from an RP server I'm in now message me. Turns out they're the OWNER, and one of the mods was aspec and the owner asked me what happened. So I told them that ash is a piece of shit (the evidence doesn't leave anyone wanting, that's for sure,) and he got banned for it. And it wasn't just me he made uncomfortable either! I'm hearing stories of numerous RP servers in which he starts shit, and then earns himself a bad rep for it. It's not even CLOSE to my fault. He's banned because he was a piece of shit and, coincidentally, I knew the person who owned the server. I didn't even know that before then. The entire thing started OUT as me trying to stay away from a shitty person, so don't tell me I went seeking him out.

Maybe Ash should consider learning how to not make people hella fucking uncomfortable and to be a tolerable person, like you yourself should, and he wouldn't get fucking banned from everywhere lol. If he's pressed enough to get you to send an ask for him, then he should make his own server where all the bigoted rude pieces of shit can congregate and have their RP, because literally nobody fucking else wants it.

It's not a smart move to send asks to people you tell to ignore you, too. Come back when you go outside and spend time in an actual LGBT space and not like... Fucking twitter. You don't have to be a piece of work but you choose to, and that's sad. With all due respect, which is none, get fucked and pound sand.

I'm going to keep telling people about pieces of shit who never got over the high of finally getting to be the bully themselves for once. No friend of his is a friend of mine, and won't ever be again.

Go for a walk. Get a hobby. Look for bugs or something. Make a collage. Sit outside in the sun and draw. Do literally fucking ANYTHING that gets you to care about what actually matters in the world

And I'm sure you'll show it to him anyway, but tell him to get fucked and try to be a better person for once in his life. It'll save him a lot of trouble later.

[bokuroo-squeals]

"This is it. I want to marry you" + Flower shop with Atsumu

200 event masterlist. Masterlist

Someone told Atsumu once, that flowers were the best gift to women, like an antidote for any kind of situation. An anniversary? Give her flowers. Her birthday? Send her flowers. An apology? Flowers. Flowers, flowers and more flowers were the answer to everything related to girls, and it wasn't until Atsumu got into dating that he relied to this piece of advice that seem to sound so dumb to him before.

Atsumu greets you one more time, scanning the place in search of his new purchase. It's a shame that after months of knowing you, he still doesn't get anything about flowers, but it's okay, since that's why he has you.

"Ah, it's just you" you speak behind the counter, your content smirk betraying the monotonous tone to mess with him.

He clicks his tongue, following your little game "Just me? Well yeah, just me, professional volleyball player and setter of the national team"

"Yes, yes. Come for your mother's arrangement, national seter . It's freaking huge, just like you asked me"

It is huge, too heavy for you to hold comfortably with your small arms, well, compared to his, almost everyone looks small, he reasons. At your struggle, he's quick to take the bouquet.

His first encounter with you was when Atsumu was running late to the first day with a girl, hoping that a rose could help him to diminish her anger at him, a romantic gesture that'd keep her mind out of the real problem. He entered the flower shop, which name he couldn't even remember by that time, with a hurry you haven't ever seen before. The blond guy agitated had small droplets of sweat all over his face, something that should have made him look unattractive, but instead, he looked devilishly handsome.

Atsumu didn't wait for you to speak, stating his need as soon as he reached the counter where you stood. “Red roses”

You didn’t expect to know again from your rude customer, but fate takes weird turns and he's back again a week later, with the same demand for a different first date.

Atsumu wasn't that bad, you got to know, he was pretty amicable in the right moments, and tended to be clumsily funny, something unexpected from a professional athlete. And while you thought he was a casanova with that first, second and third impression, he quickly proved you wrong. All of his failures at dates were because he really wasn't looking for love, neither to mess around with someone else's heart, but his lovely mother reminded him often how much she wanted him to settle down, and Atsumu as the biggest mama's boy, even when he was still young, decided to try dating to calm her down. Now, he came at least two times a week, sometimes to buy flowers for himself (his house was invaded with them) and others just to chat because, apparently,he didn't have many friends in the city besides his teammates.

"Y/n, you're really weak" he mocks you, no malice in his words.

"Good thing you're here" you giggle "so, what time are you seeing your mother".

It's casual conversation, he knows it, and still, the fact that you are interested in his family, in his personal life, has his heart beating juts a little faster. Because yes, of course he developed a huge crush on you, scratch that, after all this months of talking with you, he's sure he's falling in love.

"Well, she's supposed to get to Osaka by six, so I guess around that time. Then we'll get dinner" you notice the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about his mom, finding cute how much of a child he can be at heart.

"You must be really excited" you tell him, walking him towards the door.

"I am" he confesses "it's been a while since I saw my mom".

"I'm happy you get to see her".

Maybe is the way you smile, maybe is the scent of the flowers that turns his brain dumb, or maybe is because of all the pent up attraction, but when you smile, it's almost angelic. Not because it's innocent, but because it is sweet and so you, so beautiful only a god could create you. He's doomed, and he spits nonsense.

"This is it. I want to marry you" and silence.

He's processing how dumb must be be to actually say that out loud, and how creeped out must you be to hear him say that. Meanwhile, you're not sure if he was trying to play a prank on you or it was something out of his idiocy- it was, but not in the mean way-. And once you see the blush that adorns his cheeks and the tip of his ears, you know what he actually means.

"Jeez, Atsumu, at least take me on a date before proposing" there is it, after saying that, your laugh invades his senses and again his attention is all on you, on how nice you sound and how good you look when you're happy.

So next day he comes to your shop, his purchase is not for his mother or to adorn his apartment- which is full of flowers by the way, after being your most loyal customer-, this time, is a bouquet of your favorite flowers, the same bouquet that awaits for you when you close the shop. The bouquet that symbolizes the start of your relationship with him.

And is safe to say, those are the same flowers that you take in the way to the altar a few years later

[monsoonblooms12]

Newlyweds Questions: Week 11

A/N: So I am (quite) a bit late to this week's questions and apologies for the same. Also, a big big Thank You to the queens @jamespotterthefirst and @genevievemd for this amazing round of questions. Had so much fun answering them!

For Both

Where did you go on your second date?

Pooja: (looking at Ethan) Hmmm, should we talk as per the dates we both consider dates or the dates only I consider dates?

Ethan: And what exactly is that supposed to mean?

Pooja: Look, as per the dates which we both consider dates, our first date was at Kyoto. and as per dates that only I consider dates, our First was at Derry Roasters, studying people, drinking that (mimicking Ethan's tone) atrocious Espresso Romano.

Ethan: Apart from the fact that you used the word date five times in a sentence, and that your mimic of me was nothing like the way I talk-

Pooja: The fact that I never said I was mimicking you and yet you got it is enough to prove how good my mimic was.

Ethan: (Rolling his eyes) So, as I was saying before someone (looks pointedly at Pooja) cut me off, our first official date was Kyoto and that makes the rooftop candlelit dinner that we had at home, our second.

Pooja: And unofficially, it was the Opera, during my first year. (Looks at Ethan) Wasn't it? (An intense stare between the two, follows, as Pooja tries to make him budge and change his answer)

Ethan: (breaking eye contact and murmuring) Whatever

What is their pet name for you? Do you have a favorite? Do you have a least favorite?

Pooja: It would be Poo, Aifa and Rookie. And no least favourites. Anything he calls me is my favourite, no questions asked.

Ethan: (smiles at her) She usually calls me E, Teylie or Dr Grumpkins. And even though I don't really have a favourite, I do have a least favourite one. (Turning to Pooja) May I know why I got a "Grumpkins" nickname when I gave you all the sweet ones?

Pooja: You should really ask that question to the interns that arrived at the hospital last week.

What is their silliest fear?

Ethan: Worms.

Pooja: (bearing a serious expression) Not worms. Creepy Crawlies.

Ethan: (Barely concealing a laugh) Ya, them. They just crawl and carry on with their lives. And if you spot even a little one within the radius of ten meters, you start shrieking.

Pooja: They are creepy, okay? I have nightmares about them.

(Ethan shakes his head)

Pooja: And what will you say about your fear of having to talk to people?

Ethan: I have no fear as such.

Pooja: Then why do I always have to rescue you from public events and galas?

Ethan: .... Let's not talk about this anymore, alright?

Pooja: (letting out a hushed giggle) Sure

How often do you go on dates together? Do you think it’s enough or would you like to go out more often?

Pooja: Quite often I would say, out of the weekends we get off, for two of them we go out while for the other two we stay at home and relax.

Ethan: I wish we could go out more often.

Pooja: You know I don't need you to take me on extravagent tours or fancy restaurants. I would rather cook at home with you in my hoodie, or watch Brooklyn 99 while we snuggle and share chips.

What was the first thing your spouse said after the proposal.

Ethan: It was a long silence. I really thought I had done something wrong, because she couldn't stop crying. And after ten minutes or so, came the yes.

(Overcome by nostalgia, Ethan looks at Pooja teary-eyed)

Pooja: I was so overwhelmed by everything that I got speechless. I wanted to say so much but the words just didn't come out. It was when he got up and hugged me, that I could finally stop. His first words were, "Please don't cry"

If you were forced to marry one of your exes, who would it be?

Pooja: I think we both can agree that we would rather die or remain unmarried, rather that marrying someone else. Even if we were forced to.

Ethan: Totally. And as for me, none of my past relationships had ever made me want to get married and settle down. She (indicating Pooja) is the first who made me feel that way.

Pooja: (Touched) You know I love you, right?

Ethan: I love you too, Aifa.

Bonus round:

Speaking of exes, describe each of your spouse’s exes using three words only. Go!

Ethan: Do we really have to do this?

Pooja: (chuckling) No worries, I'll go first. For Eva: Shy, Cute, Bright. For Rosalie: Cunning, Cruel, Narcissistic. For Renia: Powerful, Stylish, Efficient and For Harper: Talented, Humble, Brilliant.

Ethan: Acute observations. My turn. So, for Shresht: Dumb, Weird, Rude and for Ayaan: Intelligent, Caring and Clever.

Pooja: I really thought for a moment that you were going to say I don't know & I don't care (chuckles)

Ethan: That's... (considers for a while) a really good suggestion. You should've told me I was allowed to do that!

(Pooja rolls her eyes and both of them end up laughing)

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PS: If you are reading this, I am really grateful for you. Have an amazing day/night and sending you loads of love🤎

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