#a copy that can take care of any issue. and then take care of the final witness. the copy.
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I will preface this with the statement that I don't think you can ethically use any of the generative AIs on the market at the moment. They are tools, but they are tools made from the exploitation of artists. GenAI companies scrape artwork off of the internet to inform their software without the creators' consent, and often then make absurd amounts of money while leaving the artists whose work they stole without any way to regain lost income. It's objectively bad. I don't disagree with you there.
What I do disagree with is the loudest argument against AI, which is that it's "Not Art." If it is not art, (i am absolutely open to that idea. probably lean further towards that than it actually being art) then I would like to explore, what *is* art, and where do we draw the line?
I, and many others, have described AI as a tool. If we are using this tool perspective, then I would compare generative AI to a photo camera.
Cameras:
allowed people to access artwork that otherwise would have been too expensive or time consuming (comparing to portraits)
can copy a piece of artwork completely, ex. taking a picture of the Mona Lisa
can create art with very little effort (the press of a button)
can be used to make profit at the expense of others: a cheaper photograph of an artwork can prevent the sale of the "real" art
can be used to obscure the original source: ex. a screenshot of a social media post
And, of course, they can be used to threaten and harass real people.
This is not to say photography is an inherently immoral form of art, obviously. There's nuance. The way you use it is important. The intention you put in is important.
This is also not to say that photography and generative AI are the same. GenAI uses a lot less human input and produces something that, as of today, can be difficult to distinguish from human-created art. GenAI also has absolutely no issues with lying, which is more difficult to analogize, but anyone with skills in photoshop can do that pretty well.
I hope you see where I'm coming from with the "tool" analogy? GenAI can be used by anyone to create something that *looks like* what it's trying to replicate, but has very little of actual substance. It doesn't have meaning behind it.
I'll join you on the collage analogy as well. Let's say, for example, I am looking for a photo for a digital collage.
Searching: I type 3 words into google, pick the first thing I see, and put it in behind my half-demon half-angel OC. yay!
Generating: I type a dozen words into whatever generative AI software, pick the first thing I see, and put it behind my half-demon half-angel OC. yay!
In these examples, I care neither about the substance of the backgrounds, nor who they were originally created by. But, I can take another crack at it:
Searching: I type a dozen words into google. I scroll through a couple pages, go to a different site and scroll there as well, and eventually find the Perfect background.
Generating: I type two dozen words into whatever generative AI software. I don't see anything I like. I type another couple words. I scroll a bit, I delete a few words, generate again, and I find the Perfect background.
In these, I care about the substance. But there's another option:
Searching: I find a website that hosts copyright-free photographs. I search and scroll, and find something that's not perfect, but I know won't harm any artist or photographer.
Generating: Imagine, some far off time in the future, where a generative AI company actually pays all of the artists that they use for reference material. I type a few dozen words into this mythical GenAI software, and find something that will look different, but I know won't harm any artist or photographer.
This is the only scenario in which I believe GenAI could be morally neutral.* But, of course, there is always the far superior option:
Commission an Actual Artist for Artwork.
GenAI is exploitative. It is harmful. It tells lies and it has no intent.
But there are other exploitative aspects of art. Mummy brown? Fascist propaganda? Hell, paper is made from trees and digital art tablets use rare earth elements. Everything is nuanced. GenAI could be art, it could not be. Art is subjective. I'm still figuring out where I draw the line. It's understandable if you draw the line before GenAI. I just want to explore this idea. I don't think its as simple as you portray it.
There are likely a dozen more things I could point to, as well as a dozen incorrect statements I've made here. Apologies in advance for any inaccuracies.
picked up the pencil :)
i literally dont care what your excuse for using AI is. if you didnt put your own effort into making it im not putting my own effort into interacting with it.
#if OP responds to this with another aggressive comment and doesn't actually engage with my arguments im not replying#will this lose me mutuals? probably#sorry about that. i try to be a good person#also for the AI isnt a tool because a tool allows you to do things you otherwise cant do:#tools allow you to do things more easily#which AI definitely does#and. once again. I have never used GenAI on purpose#i care about what i create#but i also care about understanding my own personal values#is this an objectively bad idea for my mental health? yes#iiiii should stop thinking. probably#i think for myself and get called a dickhead#also who gives a shit#man. people are dying#is that hypocritical? yes#man i hate thinking for myself
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if i was an unethical hero commission agent in bnha pre-canon, twice would've been recruited SO fast. like COPIES of your well trained spies/assassins and all you need to do is make twice feel at home and cared for? obvious play.
#use the copies and destroy the copies so not even the killer knows what went down.#it's like using an icicle as a murder weapon and letting it melt.#a copy that can take care of any issue. and then take care of the final witness. the copy.#like if you had copies taking out those deemed dangerous by the commission.... so there is less blood on the og's hands#this minimizes the danger their agents are in. physically and mentally.#or the PERFECT ALIBI#sure the copies are weaker / less durable but with the quirks that hawks and nagant have? i dont think that makes a huge difference#in addition. IMAGINE ALL THE PAPERWORK THAT COULD BE DONE SO FAST WITH COPIES OF PAPER PUSHERS BYE
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finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it
#N posts stuff#like don't get it wrong it Is Not a series about being autistic it Is a series about raising an autistic kid#but also don't be put off by that because it's legitimately a series that I feel Loves autistic people with its whole being#it's kind of a teaching manga so it showcases a lot of different opinions/characters/conflicts/etc. but the Framing is very consistent#in that the manga is Extremely of the opinion that autistic people are People who deserve to be Valued and Accepted As They Are#the onus for change is never put on autistic individuals the framing is basically Universal in the 'the World needs to change#to be more accepting' -- it's a very Social Model depiction of autism that ALSO never veers too far into the#'autism isn't even Really a disability' fallacy; it's very much a 'A lot of autistic people will need constant support in a variety of ways#throughout their lives but that isn't the roadblock preventing them from having their own lives; ableism in society is the roadblock'#the first two chapters are the hardest to get through bc they take place before Sachiko has any real understanding of autism and#so she's isolated and stressed out and the ignorance makes it difficult for her to care for Hikaru properly (there's also a lot of#other characters Blaming her for what's going on which goes unchallenged at this point though that changes later); but after she#understands what autism is she's Firmly in Hikaru's corner for the rest of the series - you can skip right to ch 3 without a problem#if you're not interested in reading about that initial conflict#there's still a Lot of conflict ofc but by then the chapters have some of my favorite moments so i don't want to advocate skipping#them; like Hikaru's daycare teacher explaining how Hikaru's difficulty speaking is the same as other kids' troubles with#things like jump-roping/etc.; and then a mother who has An Issue with Hikaru's presence in her daughter's class realizing the#depth of the problematic opinion bc Her mother (who had a stroke) faces similar ableism from her peers#i'm cutting this post off b4 the tags get Too long but if you're curious but still hesitant man. send me an ask and i will Happily#write an insanely long essay about how much i love this series; i have all the books i'm not excited about the online availability#for Me i'm excited bc i've been wanting to rec this manga for like almost a full decade and i can finally give you a link instead of#saying 'well. you can find used copies sometimes' lol
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^^ "coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse"
not proshipper not anti but a secret third thing (person who has a career in the media and, through covering legislative politics, has watched "associating with problematic fiction or entertainment is an indicator of moral degeneracy" rapidly become a mainstream GOP position that they are encoding in legislation to target the queer community under the guise of protecting children, thus coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse — the extent and manner to which fiction affects reality is an issue that is immediately relevant to today's US politics, and to summarize my opinions on the matter in fandom terms would be to diminish the ways this debate is affecting america Right The Fuck Now. and i have stopped taking "this person is bad for shipping the wrong anime thing and being horny about it" in any sort of good faith ever since I saw it literally used as part of a GOP smear campaign against a transgender state legislator in an attempt to defend the right from backlash after they used their supermajority in the Montana house to prevent her from speaking on the floor. Anyway I think everyone on this site, especially Americans, could benefit from ceasing to think in proship v anti vocabulary and instead developing coherent political positions on the nature of fiction that do not directly align with current fascist political tactics)
#oof lots of tags ahead#social#fandom discourse#it's rly hard to be concise about why anti-fandom stuff hits different from other types of fandom wank in short tags or a brief comment#this is not your regular “is luke skywalker evil for blowing up a space station” or “is inuyasha better off with kikyo or kagome”#these conversations can be fun or contentious but ultimately have no bearing on rl. meanwhile current discourse leans towards-#“should dark fiction be allowed to exist?” “should we maintain accepting spaces for mature fans?” “is fiction always literal?”#“is this person Dangerous IRL for the stories they engage with?” “should we kick them out? All Of Them? From Everywhere?”#2010’s conservatism in online spaces was & still is convincing. it regurgitates all conservative talking points that have Always Worked#eg. video games make people violent. deviant sexualities/orientations/identities are dangerous to families. limit childrens' resources.#except this time make it Fandom. except this time the characters and stories are all Literal. they're all Real. not narratives but copies.#and when the motivation for a point is virtue signaling and reactionary moralism and scandalized emotions over critical thinking-#-It Will Always Work. especially bc anyone who saw the writing on the wall (bc this isn't the first time this happened) got shut down Quick#bc “you just care too much.” it's not an issue about censorship- “it's anime.” it's not shoving members out of queer spaces-#(at a time where for a lot of us in intolerant environments FANDOM WAS OUR QUEER SPACE and for plenty STILL IS)#-“it's just the internet” where nothing that happens has any bearing on rl culture or consequence. which is a sentiment that's aged well#all of it tying in with big entities like twitter & google purposefully directing engines to prioritize revenue via clicks/viewership-#-and constantly pushing users to see & engage with contentious threads (you can look up “Tristan Harris - US Senate June 25 2019” on YT)#that fucked up users' perception of How To Address Conflict 101 bc fans speaking out against anti stuff ig got conflated with Moral Callout#instead of “hey please don't do x bc of abc reasons”-disagreeing now meant you had to FIGHT and gun for some big mic-drop moment of Victory#so fewer spoke up when all this snowballed bc it got harder to just SAY that a ship isn't real and a trope is only narrative#fast forward to today. people of all ages have been soaking in this culture and take it to other facets of their lives#Should There Be Kink At Pride & other queer events? Is my discomfort/lack of understanding equivalent to something outright attacking me?#Did You Know That People Use This Website For Sex Work or other adult-focused services? or even just a creative outlet? should it be banned#IS MY DISCOMFORT SOMETHING I SHOULD ADDRESS AND MANAGE? Or do Others bear the responsibility of catering their worlds around it?
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Initiation (m) | HHJ, YJI
Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader x Jeongin
Werewolf AU, mates, PWP, fluff, smut
Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, threesome (duh), oral, mating, knotting, marking, some possessiveness if you squint (softdom!Hyunjin?)
Word Count: ~5k
Summary: You joined Chan’s pack a few months ago and it’s been great so far. But there’s been some frustration accumulating in you for a while that you couldn’t battle on your own. Thankfully, there are young wolves around ready to help you. And they might be even more willing to take care of you than you realize.
© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.
Author’s note: Okay, I’m finally back with a new story!! I know I’ve been a bit absent lately, but that’s cz I’m writing a whole HHJ novel lmao Not even kidding, that one is gonna be sooo looonggg… But in the meantime, I decided yesterday that I needed to write something short and fun that I can share with you asap, and this happened! I was up till 7 or 8AM writing this, so huge thanks to @tusswrites for helping me edit this so quickly!! Anyways, this is my first Stray Kids story, so I really hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback~ Thank you, sweethearts <3
Network Tags: @kvanity-main @ksmutsociety
You’d been feeling weird lately.
It was a feeling that washed over you from time to time, causing you discomfort, yet you still couldn’t place it. You tried to analyze the situation you were in when it appeared and figure out where it was coming from or what it was in general, but all your efforts were in vain. Something made you feel strange, and you didn’t know what or why.
It was definitely not the life with your new pack. You joined it 6 months ago after Chan’s vehement coaxing. You’d known him even before he became the alpha of his own pack, but after wandering around the world for several years and coming back to settle down, you found the citylife to be quite dangerous for a lone she-wolf. You didn’t want to admit that you needed protection as you were more than capable of fighting your own fights, but after being constantly harassed on the daily by cocky members of various local packs, you didn’t take much convincing. Chan was a good guy and a great laid-back leader, so you knew he didn’t offer this with any ulterior motive in mind. You’d have probably joined his pack even faster if not for one thing – it was full of men. And although you had no issues with young wolves with manners, being the only female wolf in the pack sounded questionable.
This made your mind blow up with questions and assumptions. What if they start harassing you as well? Chan would probably not allow that. What if they get overly possessive over you? You would probably not allow that either. What if you cannot handle living in the same space as them without any privacy? Well, you could always move back out… With the alpha’s permission.
Regardless of your reservations, Chan seemed relentless in his attempts to lure you in. You weren’t too surprised by that. There was a bond that alphas shared with their pack members. Whenever you meet your alpha, you feel like you are on the same wavelength. Some alphas are so in-tune with their current or potential packmates that they can even sense it when they meet their future mate. They do not know whose mate it is necessarily, but they can sense that it might be one. Not every alpha is capable of that though, although most of them can at least tell whether you are a good fit for their pack or not. Chan was quick to pass his judgement and inform you with all sincerity that you definitely belonged with his pack and had to trust his gut on this.
So, you did.
And you were completely stunned with the way it had turned out. You were guarded and cautious when you first joined. But the guys were actually so friendly and so welcoming that you felt at home mere days later. It was like they were your little brothers, whom you’d been living with your entire life. Sure, they were a bit awkward with you at first, but after the adaptation period was over, you were all set with your new family.
They took care of you, and you cared for them as well. You helped Minho and Yongbok cook dinner, bought art supplies for Hyunjin, scolded Changbin whenever he was too harsh on Han and helped them make up, looked after the maknaes and made sure they were not getting into trouble. You were also giving Chan a piece of your mind whenever he pulled all-nighters, too busy with his work, and then snapped at his poor pack members for interacting with him at the wrong time. At some point you managed to have him come back to his senses and remember to get at least 5 hours of sleep every night to prevent himself from turning into a wild beast.
Everything was going great until last week, when you finally noticed that the mood swings that bothered you for a few months now, were actually getting worse. You blamed it on the insomnia that you’d been suffering from lately. After all, you’d seen Chan becoming overly sensitive to everything after being sleep-deprived, but you had no idea what was making you so stressed. You had no issues within the pack, and your life outside was also pretty solid too. Now that you had your brothers around, no one was brave enough to walk up to you and challenge your bodily integrity unless they wanted to compromise their own. Despite you being older, your brothers took your protection seriously. When you joining the pack was not that widely known, there had been a few incidents that lead to physical altercations. And despite thinking that being told to sit down and let the boys handle this shit would make you angry, you actually felt giddy instead. They didn’t belittle your abilities in any way, but each and every one of them was the first in line to protect your honor. You appreciated their brotherly love towards you more than you’d care to admit. So much so, that you didn’t say anything to them, when their extensive protection made most wolves steer clear of you whenever they met you out and about.
And even as your behavior started to shift lately, they quickly picked up on that too. Yongbok and Changbin kept asking you if anything had happened. Minho made your favorite spicy pasta, which almost no one could handle apart from you two, and maybe Jeongin as well. Seungmin and Han tried to make you laugh with their silly antics. And yet, your bad mood did not lift for long.
Today you stayed home with Hyunjin, and he asked if you wanted to get some fresh air and join him on his way to a new art exhibition at the gallery downtown. You latched onto this opportunity to shake the dust off of yourself and maybe alter your mood with the help of this public outing, hoping that it might bring you some welcomed attention. With that in mind, you’d put a little too much effort into dressing up, which you realized only when your companion gave you a puzzled onceover. But when you asked if you looked inappropriate, he shook his head. Hyunjin wasn’t a man of many words most of the time, he only became talkative whenever he was drunk or simply in the mood for long chats. After a short ‘you look beautiful’ that made you feel a ping of this confusing emotional response inside you, he motioned for you to follow him outside.
However, after a few hours strutting from one installation to another in your incredibly unreasonable high heels, you became tired and capricious. To the point when you almost cried when Hyunjin sat you down on the bench outside one of the exhibition halls and disappeared for a few minutes, only to return with a pair of flat slippers. You whined that there was no way you would be seen next to him looking this ugly, and he hummed, crouching down in front of you and removing your shoes at once. He rummaged through his Versace bag and got a band-aid out, plastering it over an aching spot on your foot. While you were watching him, barely containing a shiver from the tickle of his breathing over your knee, he carefully inserted your feet into the slippers and grabbed your shoes in one hand, offering you to hold onto his arm. When you stood up, he couldn’t help but crack a dimpled smile, patting your head affectionately. After walking around in your insane high heels for hours, you now acutely felt how small you were next to him. It was a thought that made you flustered for no reason, so you frowned and made your way to the elevator, trying to seem like you were in a hurry to get back home.
A car ride home was unbearable. Your feelings were all over the place again. One moment you were grateful to Hyunjin for his attentiveness, the other you were mad at him for acting like your partner when he clearly wasn’t, and a second later you would be on the verge of crying for having no prospects of finding one either. Having no mate at your age was bothering you so much more than it should’ve, and at some point you managed to convince yourself that you didn’t care if you missed him earlier in life. Shit happens, you thought. Not everyone spent their lives with their mates, and even if you didn’t want to settle for less, at some point you might have to. And while considering this dreadful future, you had even decided that you would start going out with humans later. Dating a wolf who could very well meet their mate months or years down the line and becoming tossed to the side would be a traumatizing experience, so you vowed to avoid it at all costs. Even if your love life would be frowned upon by most other wolves, who did not consider humans to be valid partners.
These thoughts did not add positivity to your attitude, and by the time you came home, your mood was so sour that you barely acknowledged Jeongin in the living room, heading straight to the bathroom on your floor. You threw your clothes around as you got them off and removed your jewelry. Even wiping your makeup off was a chore that made you angry, so you stepped into the water almost boiling with frustration.
Taking an entire hour to finish your routine, you relocated to your room, throwing your pajamas on before crawling under the blanket. It was way too early to go to bed, but you hated the idea of being outside of your room when you had no grip on your emotions whatsoever. Snapping at your brothers, who were innocent in the matter, was not an option you were willing to explore. And it was not their fault that these thoughts and feelings suddenly came over you at random. So you stayed in, huffing and puffing for at least another half an hour, until you were interrupted by a knock on your door.
‘Can I come in?’ You heard Hyunjin ask from the other side of the door.
You didn’t want him to, but you also didn’t want to turn him away.
‘Come in.’
He slowly opened it, peeking inside before seeping fully into your room. His head cocked to the side as he took in your state.
‘Are you feeling well?’ He asked, approaching you carefully.
You shrugged, mumbling that you were fine. His nose twitched as he clearly checked if anything would be given away by your scent.
‘Are you sure?’ He asked, taking a seat on your bed.
It wasn’t unusual, the closeness he allowed himself, yet it made you even more unstable than you were before.
‘I don’t know, Jinnie.’ You whined, kicking the blanket up with one foot. ‘I’m a mess.’
He furrowed his thick dark eyebrows.
‘What do you mean?’
You pouted, feeling the frustration rise again.
‘I don’t know…’ You repeated, sounding like you were about to cry now.
On a whim, you scooted closer to him and threw yourself forward to hug him. Overcoming the initial shock, Hyunjin reciprocated with a tight embrace. His hands were gently patting your back, and it seemed like he had nothing against the physical contact.
‘I’m sorry,’ you muttered into his collarbone and tried to pry yourself away from him. ‘I know you don’t like skinship that much-’
‘Don’t worry about that, noona.’ He cut you off, dragging you back into himself.
You sat like that for a few minutes, and you calmed down a little, too focused on his heartbeat under your ear. There was also something else that you’d noticed.
‘Jinnie,’ you inhaled deeply. ‘You smell… nice.’
He froze, still holding you in his arms, and his Adam’s apple bobbing indicated that he was in a state of utter disarray.
‘What do you-’
The door into your room flew open, and Jeongin invited himself in.
‘Why are you making a cuddle nest without me? You know I am the best candidate to make you feel better, noona!’
He jumped on the bed, making you huff in amusement.
‘See? You’re already smiling.’ He wrapped his arms around your bicep and continued. ‘Let go of this hyung, I am all you need.’
Hyunjin raised his eyebrow, likely feeling competitive after this comment.
And for the next ten minutes, they were busy fighting for your attention.
‘It must’ve been you,’ Jeongin nagged at the older wolf. ‘She spent the whole day with you and came back angry. I am pretty sure…’
‘It’s not. I’ve been in a weird mood lately, that’s all.’
‘Oh?’ He perked up from your thigh, where he’d been resting his head. ‘Weird how? Don’t tell me-’
‘What?’ You and Hyunjin asked in unison.
‘Are you like… frustrated?’
‘I am,’ you nodded, misunderstanding his question.
‘You know what I mean? Like… sexually?’
At this, you opened your mouth, completely offended by the suggestion.
‘What the hell?’ You shoved him in the shoulder, trying to get him off of your thigh.
‘No, but that would be so great,’ he told you despite the commotion. ‘Because it’s not that hard to solve.’
‘Yeah right.’ You grumbled, making both wolves look at you. ‘What? I am not admitting to anything!’
‘You don’t have to, my face is inches away from the only thing about you that is truthful right now,’ the youngest noted without a care.
Hissing, you shoved him off, pulling the blanket over your knees again.
‘What? It’s only the truth.’ He rolled his eyes at your reaction. ‘Just get someone to fuck you and you’ll be alright.’
You sighed.
‘Yeah, ‘cause that’s so easy.’
Jeongin sat up.
‘What do you mean? If it’s not easy for you, who’s it easy for?’
‘Someone who doesn’t have a few wolf brothers to rip into anyone looking their way?’
‘We only rip into assholes who bother you,’ Hyunjin interjected.
‘Right. And the non-assholes watch that and think, ‘oh great, I’d love to hit that after they’re done with the other guy’. Sure.’
‘If they think like that they don’t need to be hitting that anyway.’ He replied curtly, and you pouted again.
‘Remind me again why you were surprised I cannot get laid?’
‘You shouldn’t give yourself over to guys like that, noona.’ Hyunjin pressed.
‘Agreed. You could always ask someone else for help. Like, I’d definitely help the hell out of you right now,’ Jeongin said, reaching your thigh with his hand and squeezing it.
‘Then you better do that, because I am already planning to get a tinder account and grab me some human!’ You suddenly confessed, startling both of the wolves.
‘You’re- what??’ Hyunjin gasped in your ear.
‘I didn’t think you were actually that desperate, noona…’ Jeongin muttered, licking his lips. ‘But I can deliver on my offer, if you really mean it.’
You swallowed under the scrutiny of the two pairs of eyes, and leaned back into Hyunjin, suddenly feeling weak from the stress of it. In any other state you might’ve been able to think it through and decline. But right now you suddenly had no care for the consequences of your actions.
‘Do it.’ You exhaled, watching the youngest wolf purse his lips to contain his excitement.
Before you allowed yourself to think about the current chain of events, you grabbed Hyunjin’s arms and wrapped them tighter around your frame. For some reason, you didn’t want him to go either.
‘Are you sure about this?’ He asked in your ear, and you shivered from his hot breath.
You turned to give him a reassuring nod.
‘It’s easy to give into temptation when you’re vulnerable. We can’t take advantage of that,’ he continued, brushing a strand of your hair to the side.
You felt overwhelmed by his comment, but then the youngest inserted himself into this exchange.
‘Are you that scared of Chan?’ He chuckled.
‘Chan? What does he have to do with anything?’ You asked in confusion, while they were throwing daggers at each other with their eyes.
‘Because hyung told us in graphic terms that he’d rip our faces off if we tried to coerce you into something like that.’
‘What the hell??’
‘My thoughts exactly. I think you’re the one coercing me into getting down for you, noona,’ he smiled, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts.
‘Why would he say that though?’ You asked Hyunjin this time.
‘I don’t know. I guess he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable around us?’
That made sense, sort of. But you weren’t sure if that was simply due to your reluctance about joining an all-male pack, or if there was something else going on. Jeongin’s hand dipping between your thighs disrupted your already flailing thought process.
Hyunjin growled lowly, warning him, and he looked at you for approval.
‘Take them off,’ you told him, and he smiled, tugging your shorts off immediately.
‘Noona…’ Hyunjin protested hoarsely, but you squeezed his forearm.
‘I am the one initiating this. Forget whatever Chan told you.’
‘It’s not about what-’
‘I want you here. Do you want to stay?’ You asked him, and his grip on you tightened, as if you could kick him out for real.
‘Yes.’
‘Then stop nagging. And kiss me.’
He looked down at your mouth and swallowed, leaning in.
‘Shit noona, you are soaked…’ The youngest distracted both of you with his eagerness. ‘Do you always wear such skimpy underwear at home? I could fuck you without taking it off.’
Before you answered, he pulled the item of clothing to the side and ran two fingers between your wet folds. Without wasting anymore time for chitchat, he leaned in, attaching his lips to your pussy.
‘Ah fuck!’ You jolted, steadied by the arms around you.
In fact, Hyunjin’s iron hold made it even more egregious.
Jeongin made it known that he was enjoying himself, humming into you as he licked and sucked your sensitive flesh. You could feel his spit drip down to your hole, and clenched around nothing, clawing at Hyunjin’s forearm.
‘Innie, shit…’ You cursed, looking down at his fluffy head between your legs.
He seemed pleased by the feedback he was receiving, so he started alternating between various techniques. When he switched to quick sharp licks up your slit, you started shaking.
You threw your head back, bumping into Hyunjin’s shoulder. He was still tense, and you turned your head to inhale his familiar scent that calmed you down before.
‘Jinnie, please touch me,’ you begged, trying to move one of his hands onto your breast.
His nose brushed against yours, and you felt his plush lips connect with the corner of your mouth. Grabbing him by the hair on the back of his head, you pushed him closer. He growled, mouth crashing on yours, and slipped his tongue inside it aggressively. When you felt his hand sneak under your pajama top to grab your boob, you whimpered loudly. His other hand pressed down on your belly, and Jeongin suddenly flicked your clit with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth harshly.
You cried out, trembling in Hyunjin’s grasp. You were too sensitive to withstand such an attack.
‘Innie, don’t stop- I’m-’ You sobbed, grabbing onto Hyunjin’s hand over your breast. ‘I’m cumming-’
The older one bit onto your ear gently before giving it a short lick, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Jeongin was still assaulting your nub, and your long animalistic wail was probably heard outside.
You were still breathless when you felt someone lift your hips, removing your underwear.
‘Give her a break,’ you heard Hyunjin say sternly.
You squeezed his bicep, causing him to divert his attention.
‘Don’t,’ you shook your head weakly. ‘I want to.’
Just a moment later, you felt Jeongin prod at your entrance. You whined as he inserted himself into you, barely having enough time to adjust before he began rutting into you.
‘Fuck, noona… You have a- a perfect pussy,’ he noted, sounding strained. ‘Ah shit-’
Despite being just a year apart with Hyunjin, Innie was still quite young and impressionable. You could tell how overly excited and aroused he got from going down on you, and you felt it in his abrupt thrusts that he was not going to last at all. But you didn’t mind.
You panted, the aftershocks of your previous release rekindling by the continuous slapping of skin against your pussy, and Jeongin began fucking you even harder.
But at this point you got too distracted by the heavy breathing in your ear. Hyunjin wasn’t even the one inside you, and yet, he was still the one making you go insane. You wanted to cry from his proximity, because he was close but still not close enough.
You squeezed his thigh and moved your palm to the side, finding his long, hard cock.
‘Jinnie…’ You mumbled, frantically shoving your hand down his pants.
His hips jerked forward as you grabbed his thick flesh.
You desperately, desperately wanted him inside. And he knew.
‘Don’t cum inside her,’ he told the younger one, who was definitely close to his orgasm, and shoved him with his foot.
You felt him slip out, cursing his hyung, who quickly flipped you around. Jeongin tugged your hips up to put you on all fours, and shoved himself inside you again. Your face was pressed to Hyunjin’s flexing abs while he fucked you from behind feverishly. With all the thoughts vanishing from your dazed brain, you resorted to kissing and licking the skin over his taut stomach and using your nails to leave shallow marks as he stroked your head slowly. The maknae’s fingers dug deeper into the supple flesh of your thighs as he came to the verge of his release.
‘Did you hear what I said?’ Hyunjin suddenly growled, loud and clear this time. ‘Get your ass over there and watch.’
Your skin was all covered in goosebumps from the commanding tone of his voice. You wanted him to use it on you as well, just so that you could defy him. Fuck around and find out.
But Jeongin was a good boy, so he did as he was told. As soon as he slipped out, you got pulled up the bed again. Hyunjin put almost his entire weight onto your back, making your elbows and knees give out. That seemed to be exactly what he wanted, and his dick slipped into your tight hole easily while you were lying flat on the bed. You moaned as his body moved in a wave-like motion, merging with yours completely. It wasn’t clear whether Hyunjin was that much bigger than Jeongin, or it was the position adding to it, but you felt so full that it made your pussy quiver helplessly.
‘Please, Jinnie…’ You whined, as his hips continued to snap forward. ‘Make me cum…’
He quickly pulled out, rolling you over like a ragdoll, and folded you in half, continuing to pound you into the mattress. You heard Jeongin moan from his spot on the chair, where he was watching you from. But you were too engaged to even try and pay attention to him, although you were sure that he was jerking himself off right now.
Hyunjin was destroying your pussy with methodical slaps, and you felt your big orgasm build again. You were going to cum so hard, you just knew it.
‘Mhm, deeper…’ You pleaded, your vision blurring as he hit so deep that your pleasure was beginning to hurt.
‘Do you want- want me to- want my cum?’ He asked, not slowing down at all.
‘Fuck, Jinnie…’
You thrashed underneath him, causing him to let go of your legs, unfolding you, and lie on top of you. His pelvis snapped back-and-forth fluidly, and you made eye contact, catching his feral gaze that likely mirrored your own.
‘Fill me…’ You choked on your words. ‘Fuck, I want it- inside me-’
As your orgasm washed over your body, you completely lost it. All control over your actions slipped away from you, and you bit into his flesh that was closest to you, piercing his bicep with your teeth. You pulled back almost immediately, but before you could say anything, Hyunjin reciprocated, grabbing your arm and sinking his own teeth into your wrist.
With the added tinge of pain, you were still shaking violently when his cum flooded your insides. You wailed and screamed every time he thrusted, with his skin slapping against yours, until his cum started gushing out of you. When he stilled, you were on the verge of losing consciousness. The tightness in your hole kept you there, and you swallowed the salty taste of his blood, slowly realizing what just happened.
‘Dammit, hyung! You knotted her?’ You heard Jeongin come to his senses before you two.
‘Fuck off.’
Hyunjin didn’t sound like he’d let anyone mess with him right now, and it sent a tight pulse through your core. He watched Jeongin flee the room as he ran his tongue over his teeth, obviously aware of your body’s reactions to him. Licking his bloody red lips, he sobered himself up.
‘You fucking marked me,’ he told you, as if you didn’t already know.
‘I didn’t- didn’t mean to-’ You tried to justify breathlessly, fidgeting slightly. ‘It just felt so good that I…’
‘Stop talking. I can’t move, and you make me want to rip into you all over again.’
You pursed your lips as your pussy quivered around his rock hard knot once more, making your eyes tear up. Everything about him was sending you into overdrive, and you had no idea what to do with yourself. It suddenly dawned on you that this was exactly what you wanted this entire time, and you had no idea that it was making you frustrated. Not even realizing that your mate was right next door, quite literally. You could’ve had him months ago, but you were too preoccupied by other things in life like trying to build a family bond with your new pack to see what fell right into your lap, quite literally. The only wolf you needed.
‘J-Jinnie…’
His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he held his hips steady.
‘Baby. If you move even an inch-’ He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. ‘If you cum again, it will only prolong this…’
‘But I- I want to!’ You whined, wiggling your hips. ‘Please, it’s so big…’
‘No.’
‘Hyunjin!’
‘I said no.’
The authority in his voice made your toes curl.
‘Fuck,’ he growled, jerking forward involuntarily as he felt you fall apart again. ‘You’re not gonna stop until you get yourself pregnant, are you?’
You sobbed, unable to snatch yourself out of the excruciatingly long orgasm.
Hyunjin pressed as deep into you as he could, trying to hold you completely still, and the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. At this point you simply blacked out from the intensity of the pleasure, regaining your perception of reality only when your partner’s girth finally began deflating in your overstimulated pussy.
‘Are you back?’ He asked, voice a bit gruff but not low and menacing anymore.
It made warmth spread out in your chest as you nodded.
‘Does anything hurt?’
You shook your head first, and then nodded after noticing his expression.
‘It must hurt. I told you not to move, baby.’ Although he was admonishing you, it didn’t stop him from pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘Give me a couple more minutes and it’ll be done.’
‘Okay,’ you mumbled, not that eager to let him go – he was your newly found mate, after all.
But your fragile intimacy was crushed by the loud voices in the hallway.
‘What the fuck did I tell you all about doing shit like that to her? I don’t care who-’
Chan burst through the door, stopping in his tracks.
‘Are you still going at it?!’ He asked, not fazed by the fact that Hyunjin was naked and on top of you.
After he tugged the blanket up to cover your bodies fully and turned to face his alpha, Chan gasped.
‘Don’t tell me- it’s you, isn’t it?? She’s your mate, right?’ He sounded more excited than angry now. ‘I knew it! I told you that you absolutely had to join-’
‘Hyung,’ Hyunjin cleared his throat, not even trying to sound apologetic. ‘We’re otherwise preoccupied, as you might see.’
Thankfully, he couldn’t see under the covers, and your mate’s body also shielded yours from the other wolf’s eyes, but you were still dying of embarrassment.
‘Oh- right. Wait, are you locked- You know what, nevermind. Keep going. I mean, finish up. I mean-’
‘Oh gosh, Chanie hyung!’ Yongbok groaned, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him into the hallway before shutting the door. ‘Let them be.’
As their voices became less and less distinguishable, Hyunjin looked into your eyes, seemingly reading your thoughts.
‘No, he’s never going to shut up about it,’ he replied before you asked. ‘But I’m still grateful that he convinced you to join the pack. Thank you for taking him up on his offer.’
His last words made him tense, thinking back to someone else you took up on his offer.
‘You’re going to snap Innie’s neck, aren’t you?’
‘You’re fucking right.’
‘Jinnie…’
Masterlist
A/N: Ahhh, this hot mess of a trio... I hope you enjoyed this little fun ride! Please comment and reblog, I really appreciate your feedback💜 And as usual, my asks are open~
#hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin smut#kvanity#ksmutsociety#hwang hyunjin x reader#stray kids smut#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#skz smut#hyunjin x reader x jeongin#kpop smut#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin stray kids#stray kids x reader#kpop fanfic#jeongin smut#yang jeongin smut#hyunjin x reader#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin#skz#stray kids
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Ghost Chirps AU Part 4
A little treat in these trying times
Part 1 & 2
Part 3
***
The first time Daniel chirps (to Vlad’s knowledge, but it’s actually the fifth, he was just out of range in the GZ all the previous time) Vlad responds immediately.
The boy attacks him just as viciously as ever, and Vlad assumes from then on that the boy is merely taunting him, crying out for family only to go “no, not you.”
Vlad ignores it from then on. It isn’t particularly frequent anyway.
When he hears him chirping back and forth with some other ghost somewhere on the East Coast he feels his eye twitch.
He dismisses it, however. No doubt it is one of Daniel’s little ghost allies helping him try to antagonize Vlad into showing up just to be rejected again.
Well, Vlad won’t fall for Daniel’s petty tricks. He would be Vlad’s son in time one way or another, no need to indulge the boy’s temporary sense of superiority.
It is grating when it wakes him up in the middle of the night, but he goes back to sleep quickly after.
Midday, he thinks he might have to track down Danny’s little friend for a nice long chat about Not Doing That. But that’s an issue for later.
Before “later” can arrive, Vlad finds himself taken into “temporary custody” while the police search his house.
He goes peacefully, assured that they’ll find nothing amiss, all of his ecto materials tucked neatly away in a lab that is inaccessible any way other than phasing. And wrapped in lead just in case.
He does not notice that a member of the Justice League is involved, nor would he care, certain that none could find his lab. And utterly unaware of the JLD’s existence.
Not that the JLD is needed in this case.
Despite his best efforts to change every copy of the construction crews’ blueprints both digital and physical in order to eliminate knowledge of the inaccessible room, there’s no accounting for memory.
Officer Roger worked in construction before joining the force, and it was only less than a half a year ago that Masters’ Amity home was constructed. Officer Roger still remembers the doorless, windowless box they built alongside the small mansion itself. It’s nowhere to be found on the property, so he brings it up with his superior.
Orphan questions it - nearly giving the whole team heart-attacks in the process - but a simple “I used to work in construction” seems to be enough to satisfy her curiosity.
A two hour sweep with some metal detectors finds nothing.
Then Orphan reappears from the shadows, providing another jumpscare, before pressing a hand silently to the side of her head.
The crew watches in silence as well, giving their pulses a chance to slow.
A ten-count later Orphan’s hand drops, and she strides confidently to the rear-left corner of the mansion and points at the ground.
“200 feet beneath the foundation,” she says before disappearing back into the shadows.
The crew shares a look and gets to work.
The time it takes to dig up the cube is just more time spent in a cell for Vlad, where he waits patiently, assured he’ll be released soon enough.
The lab itself would be only a minor problem - there would be fines and inspections and a heavy watch until everything was brought up to code. Questions about how he accessed it would be a larger problem.
But worst of all, in the comfort of his lab? He’s not much for hiding away incriminating documents.
Of which there are many, given his propensity for keeping extensive records of his experiments, which include unethical cloning and what sums up to human experimentation.
Once they find the actual facilities for the experiments in his Wisconsin home? It will all be over for him.
Being a ghost he could, of course, simply flee the cell and start anew somewhere else, with a new identity or even in a new dimension altogether - so long as he could nab Maddie and her children to bring with him.
But within his labs, he also keeps extensive records of himself.
A copy of the Plasmius Maximus.
Other ghost- and halfa-capturing restraints.
When he hears steps approaching his cell 2 days into his stay when it is clearly not a mealtime, he thinks “finally” assured that he is about to be released.
He only registers that it is Batman after he’s been hit by the Plasmius Maximus - cut off from his powers for at least the next two hours.
He has no chance to complain, as he is subsequently tranqued unconscious to be taken to a more secure location.
***
It’s an hour and half after school let out when the cops - who had taken to trying to distract Jazz and Danny with cards games and work stories while they waited - step away to answer their radios.
When they return, they tell them that it’s “time to go.”
The siblings share a look, then shrug.
It wouldn’t be the first time the cops had to drive them home - rare though it was, there were at least 4 such occasions in their memories. It wasn’t a big deal.
They were less than enthused when the cops explained that they’d be heading to take them to the station instead of to home. Still, they chalked it up to the whole “questions about the Red Hood” thing and moved on.
At least it meant they could dodge a home visit like Danny had wanted.
Except when they get there, they are taken to a cushy room and introduced to their social worker, a woman with a kind smile and a soothing voice who introduces herself as Bethany Scott, sits them down and explains, very gently, that their parents are currently under investigation.
To her credit, she isn’t condescending. She doesn’t try to hide away the truth; when they ask why, she tells them.
It’s a surprisingly long list of charges. Of everything on it, the violation of the meta protection acts comes as the biggest surprise.
Their parents were obsessive about ghosts, but they were also good at it. They never attack anything that doesn’t have ectoplasm.
Well, barring a few misfires.
Another surprise comes then: the Anti-Ecto Acts don’t exist. Ghosts are covered by the MPA by design, the AEA would never have gotten off of the ground in any legal capacity. It is solely a creation of the GIW, an extreme “‘real’ humans only” supremacist group that had worked at every level to pull the wool over the eyes of the small town’s citizenry so thoroughly that they’d been thought a real government agency - the imitation of which would be just one of the many charges that every member they managed to capture would be facing.
Then Mrs Scott starts talking about placement options.
Their Aunt, they are told, is not an option.
It comes as a surprise to Danny. On quiet nights, when no ghosts showed up to interrupt him and Sam and Tucker weren’t up to distract him with a game of Doomed, his mind would sometimes wander back to that darkest of timelines.
He’d wondered how Vlad had ended up with custody. Being his godfather made him an option, but Danny would’ve wanted to go with Alicia. Will be damned, Danny would’ve plead on both knees with the judge to go with his aunt. Grieving or not, he’d have wanted as much distance between him and Vlad as possible,
He’d assumed Vlad must have done something to her or paid off the judge to rule in his favor.
To find out it was because she simply wouldn’t take him?
A part of him understands. He doesn't - Aunt Alicia is a kind person, yes, but not particularly loving or caring. When his parents brought up the subject of children with her on one of their rare visits, she described herself as having “less motherly instinct than a starving axolotl.”
Not an encouraging description after he read a book on axolotls for context.
With their options being “Aunt in a small wood cabin in the middle of nowhere with the emotional sensitivity of a bull in a china shop” and “Rich friend of the family who would enable them to stay in contact with their friends and could hire them therapists even if he’s personally useless for helping them through the grieving process” she probably also figured marking herself down as a solid non-option would just expedite them getting the help they need (because she does care, even if she herself can’t - won’t - be there for them in that way).
He doesn’t hate her, but the knowledge burns. To know that there really was no avoiding Vlad - in that horrible future and in the now - makes him sick to his stomach.
Except-
Except before he can spiral, Mrs Scott tells them that Vlad is also not an option. Because he’s also under investigation.
A hysterical giggle bursts past his lips before he can think to stop it.
“Why?” he asks, ignoring Jazz’ disapproving grimace.
It’s less funny when they’re told that he’s under investigation under suspicion of mostly the same violations as their parents - including MPA violation, given the whole “million dollar ghost” incident and related propaganda. As the mayor especially, he should’ve known the AEA weren’t real and that the GIW were frauds and it was his responsibility to do something about them.
Depending on how he’d interacted with the group, he might be looking at aiding and abetting treason - or just outright treason - charges.
“If Aunt Alicia and Vlad both aren’t able to take us, then where are we going to go?” Jazz asks, shoving her emotions aside to deal with the matter at hand.
“Ordinarily, we would call up a few local fosters and see if one could take you in for a few days while we look into more long-term options. Worst case scenario you would have to spend a night or two in a hotel suite connected to mine while I found someone,” she answers. “But the two of you are in luck; Batman is the one who brought the case to our attention - apparently some erratic behavior from Red Hood brought them here, don’t ask, I don’t have all the details - and offered to run your parents’ DNA to check for other relatives that could take you. There was a match.”
The siblings share another look.
Both grandparents on their mother’s side had been only children and both were dead. Aunt Alicia had already said no and had no children of her own. Their father had been disowned by his family, and even if their other Aunts and Uncles would have been willing to take them in it didn’t matter, because all 5 had died in various accidents on their “hunts.”
“Apparently your uncle, Jerry Fenton, had a fling before he passed with one Ms Sheila Haywood. Their son, Jason, was thought to be the son of Willis Todd and Mrs Haywood until the DNA test today. He was raised by Willis and Mrs Catherine Todd until his subsequent adoption by Mr Bruce Wayne, and is currently living in Gotham.”
And it sounds wrong - the only thing most Fentons could love was mystery and danger - thus why only one out of six had survived. But they don’t know enough to dispute it.
Also. The involvement of another billionaire is setting off alarm bells. On the one hand: this could be a fruitloop paying someone off in order to forcibly adopt them. On the other hand, maybe Jason Todd really was a Fenton and being adopted by fruitloops was some kind of curse on the current generation.
“We contacted Mr. Todd the moment the connection was made. He has expressed an interest in taking you in, and flew out immediately to come and meet you. He arrived not five minutes ago.”
She paused and gave them a sympathetic look.
“I understand that this is all a lot to take in. Please know that placing you with Mr. Todd is not the end of my duties; even after he takes you, I will be following you to Gotham. I’ll be looking into counselors for the both of you, and we’ll have a follow up on that topic in a maximum of a week’s time. I’ll also be doing regular home checks to ensure you’re both settling in well and that you’re being taken good care of.
Even with what little I’ve gleaned, it is obvious that the environment you both grew up in until now was neither a safe nor a healthy one. It is my job to ensure that doesn’t happen again. If you have any concerns about your placement home now or in the future, please do not hesitate to bring them up with me. If you worry something is not “important” enough to mention, rest assured that if it bothers you in the slightest, then it’s important to me.”
She gives them each a long look.
Then she brings in Jason.
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You Have a Girlfriend?
So you get a little confused when you’re drunk? So what?
a/n: I saw a goofy little twitter post about this somewhere and ran with it. I’m goofy when I’m drunk, so, honestly? A very plausible scenario.
warnings: Mild language, alcohol consumption.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.
—
You’re sitting next to Bucky and across from Sam, and you are a little very drunk. The three of you chose to have a drink and talk after a long day of working on the Wilsons’ boat. The issue, however, is that Sam challenged Bucky and yourself to a drinking game, and you were desperately losing.
One thing about you is that when you’re drunk: you feel the need to tell everyone how much you love them. Another thing about you when you’re drunk: your memory sucks.
“Sam,” you whisper yell across the bow of the boat. “Sam. Sam. Sam.”
Sam raises an eyebrow at you when he turns his attention to you.
“I have a secret to tell you! No, two secrets!” You hold out two fingers in front of you.
Sam smirks. “What’s that?”
“One,” you hold up one finger, “I love you; you’re a good friend. Two,” you hold up a second finger, “your friend who’s sitting by me is really, really hot.”
Sam lets out a loud laugh, and you grin at his reaction.
“I love you, too, kid.”
Bucky is smiling fondly at you, watching you with love and adoration. He’s glad he can’t get drunk simply for the ability to take care of you while you let loose.
“I’m really, really hot, huh?” Bucky teases, and he laughs when you nearly get whiplash from turning to look at him.
Your eyes are wide as you stare at him. In your drunken state, you clearly didn’t expect him to hear your admission to Sam. You relax after a second, though, and smile at him.
“Yeah, you are. Y’know, I was wonderin’…” you trail off, getting distracted as you stare into his bright blue eyes. You let out a content sigh as you observe him.
“What were ya wonderin’, Doll?” He lets his hand rest on your thigh, rubbing his hand up and down comfortingly.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Your question is dead serious. There’s no hesitancy or joke in your voice, and Bucky finds it completely endearing. He chuckles as he stares at you, and you can faintly hear Sam lose his shit. You don’t pull your attention away from Bucky at all, though.
“I do,” Bucky informs you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at your reaction.
Your eyes go wide, tears prickle at the corner of them. You swallow and wipe them away before doing your best to come up with a steady voice.
“Is it serious?” You question him.
“Very,” he smiles. “‘m gonna ask her to marry me.”
Generally speaking, Bucky wouldn’t have told you his plans, but he is fairly certain you’re not going to remember this conversation in the morning. And, if you do, he isn’t too concerned because he is so very serious.
You make no effort to hide your disappointment, and you let your tears fall freely this time.
“Oh, okay. She’s so lucky. Does she make you happy?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
You’re obviously upset, and you’re obviously unaware Bucky is talking about you. Sam is trying not to laugh, but his wide grin betrays him. Bucky, however, finds himself more concerned than entertained when you start to actually cry.
“Doll, what’s wrong?” He wipes a tear away with his thumb, softly holding your face.
“No!” You push his hand away, eyes going wide. “You have a girlfriend! She wouldn’t want you touchin’ me!”
He laughs then. He can’t help it. After all, his girlfriend would very much want him to touch you. You always have your hand interlaced with his, or your body snugly tucked into his side, or your hand in his hair, or… The list goes on.
“Hey, don’t laugh.” You frown.
“Sorry, sorry. ‘s just that my girlfriend loves when I touch you.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.
“Why would she like for you to touch other women?”
Sam bursts into another round of laughter. He is struggling to breathe as he wordlessly points at the two of you, ignoring Bucky’s glare.
“Oh, Doll, she doesn’t. She hates it, really, and I never pay another dame a lick of attention. She’s the only one I’ve got eyes for.” He kisses your forehead, a form of punctuation to his assurance.
Your critical thinking skills, however, are formally shot.
“You’re lying! You’re paying me attention! And I’m not your girlfriend! What’s your girlfriend’s name? I’ve got to tell her you’re cheating. Girl code.”
Sam loses it again.
“Your girlfriend! You: cheating! Shit!” Sam barely manages to get a thought out. Bucky grins at his friend. He can’t deny that he is just as entertained by your antics.
He pulls out his phone, opening his contacts up to the one labeled “Dollface,” and hands it to you.
“Here,” he says, “call her.”
You nod and take his phone, hitting the call button and holding his cellphone to your ear.
A ringtone fills the night air and you frown when you feel a vibration in your back pocket. Clumsily, you pull your own cellphone out of your pocket and look down at the screen.
“JBB <3 is calling…” appears on your screen along with a candid photo of Bucky laughing.
You stare at it, and Sam and Bucky stare at you. You don’t do anything—don’t say anything, don’t move—until the call goes to voicemail. Finally you look up at Bucky.
“Why’d it call me?”
“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend,” Bucky finally says.
Your face breaks into a wide grin.
“No shit!”
—
“I wasn’t that drunk!” You insist the following morning.
Sam and Bucky exchange a look before laughing.
“Kid,” Sam says once he’s calmed down enough. “You asked Tin-man if he had a girlfriend and cried when he said yes.”
Your eyes go wide as you turn to Bucky for confirmation.
“You did, Doll,” he says, smiling.
You stare for a moment before shrugging and turning back to your coffee in front of you.
“Y’know what? That’s a totally reasonable reaction,” you say, leaning back into Bucky as he situates himself behind you and plants a loving kiss in your hair.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#marvel x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader fluff#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky x fem!reader#tfatws!bucky x reader#tfatws!bucky x fem!reader#tfatws#tfatws!bucky#marvel#marvel fluff#marvel x you#marvel x y/n
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The Office AU
part 17 - Poly!141 The men are trying to show reader that they like , but she has some issues reading the signs Pairing: poly!141 x reader
There has been a lot of causal touching. That you are starting to slowly freak you out.
Everytime John calls you into his office to ask for a really simple and almost down right disrespectful task that he is asking for you to do.
“Hey bird, need your help for something”, John calls to you , leaning against the doorway in his office.
“Sure, let me just find a stopping point”, you could stop at any point but just wanted to seem like you were doing something, not because you aren't doing anything but because you always finish your work early in the day. Standing up and walking over to his office , he puts his hand on your lower back as you walk in, it has you stiffening up and developing a little sweat on your hands. You don’t know what he means when he touches you like this.
Is he doing it on purpose?
Does he always touch women like this or just you?
Does he like me ?
“Can’t figure out the printer again”, he says, a little too shameful. Considering you’ve shown him how to do this a couple of times already and he just seems to not be getting it. You go over the steps again , sitting down in his chair and you swivel around to him to see if he’s got it.
“Does that make sense”, you ask him. Look up at him. He then crowds your space and points to the screen and asks a question but you miss it because all you can do is feel his body heat.
He’s standing right behind you leaning over, which puts some weight on his body on your shoulder.
You breathe in long and hard and swear you can smell his deodorant and a little of his natural body musk.
You want to have an oxygen mask of just that scent and only have that survive.
He brings you out of the haze when he lays his hand on you shoulder, “think I got it, hen”
“Got what”, you ask.
“Seems like it printed”, he says, then points to the door frame where Gaz is standing holding what looks to be about 20 copies of some order form.
“Oh”, you let out quietly, standing up from his chair , “let me know if you need anything else”, you say as you walk out. Going immediately to the bathroom and re applying some powder because you know you are shiny after going through that tortuous 20 minutes.
You do your nails almost every two weeks. Since you do it yourself it takes forever and you always had a design or too and you’ve been getting better at it.
So when Soap grabs both of hands and stares at your nails, you forget that you did themand the only thought that is going through your head is that his hands are soft.
“This look right good," he says , leaning on your desk and bringing your hands closer to his face.
“Yer did it yourself?”, he ask and you know it takes a second to answer him but he’s still holding your hands and it’s kinda hard to focus.
You answer and it gets you excited about your nails. You're super proud of them.
Then god damn him , he starts giving your hands a massage.
You were not prepared for that, letting out a quick but low moan.
It has Soap stopping what he’s doing , giving your a little smirk , “feel good?”.
“J-just surprised me is all”, it did feel good but you didn’t want him to know that, you don’t even know how he feels about you.
He still flirts with everyone that comes in this office. And he’s playful. Maybe a bit too playful. You’ve done playful before and that just turn into taking care of all the important stuff because “your better at that stuff” and whole bunch of resentment.
Pulling your hands away slowly , you thank him for the compliments and start to open your yogurt that doubles as your breakfast. As he walks away, “that yogurt is expired”, he says. Which has you looking down and you see the expiration date of two days ago.
#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#tf141 x reader#x reader#poly!141 x reader#simon ghost x reader#captain john price x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader
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Can anyone explain why so many progressives are both anti-ai and pro-piracy? The argument I see for piracy is "revenue that could have been earned (from a sale) but wasn't earned (because of piracy) is not lost revenue (ie revenue lost to actual theft)." But...isn't the same true for ai? If I use your painting of a tree along with hundreds of other paintings of trees to train my ai to spit out a "painting" of a tree, and I sell that "painting" of a tree, I haven't copied your painting and sold it, I've sold a "painting" that was trained on your painting.
Like, the reason art theft is bad is because if I just copy your painting and sell it, anyone that wanted it enough to buy it from me would've bought it from you, so I'm diverting guaranteed revenue from you to me. But if I sell an ai generated "painting" that was trained on your painting, but is different, someone that buys the ai generated "painting" wasn't necessarily going to buy your painting. You weren't guaranteed any revenue. Of course this argument falls flat if my ai spits out a painting that's basically a 1:1 copy of someone else's, which I know does happen.
I see people argue "you're profiting off of other peoples' labor," and that's true, but that doesn't mean it's theft. Theft implies it's costing you money.
I've never actually used any ai, I have no interest in it, this is all for the sake of argument. I'm not willing to die on this hill, I genuinely just haven't been convinced by any of the arguments I've seen thus far. Least of all the "but what if someone used YOUR art/writing for ai" argument, because I would not care. I'm sure my fic HAS been scraped for ai.
--
You're missing the underlying issue, which is that progressives are angry at venture capitalist ticks, bloated on the blood of society.
I suppose downloading a tv show does take a little bit of electricity, but most AI projects waste a fuckton of power while aiming to replace humans and destroy entire markets for art in the very near future.
"You should have paid for the art you trained on" is basically code for "Fuck you. We want to stop your entire garbage project of ruining society."
It's in the same category as hating the gigification of everything and telling big business to hire a real graphic designer at a real wage, not the same category as telling people not to pirate a tv show.
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A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 1: Cat Adams
genre: fluff, angst
word count: 4986
pairing: reader x spencer reid
description: you finally understand what is going on. and that leaves you more lost than ever.
a muted shade of green masterlist
previous chapter // next chapter
The first thing you notice is the colour of the walls– beige and cold and not green. You don’t say anything to Spencer, though; you couldn’t even if you tried. Not with all those eyes on you. Your visitor’s pass clicks and clanks against the buttons of your shirt and your hands still shake, even with how tightly they are holding onto your bag. Morgan and Spencer have been very careful to not make too many sudden moves near you, but they are not the problem, it’s the situation. It’s the fact that Spencer doesn’t tell you who is Cat Adams. Is the fact that they made you put your phone in a metal box before entering the building, and then proceed to talk about as if you are not right there.
“She’s going to need a security detail,” Morgan sighs, sunglass finally off and it knocks your breath away how worried he looks. He can’t really hide it, you think, not with how expressive his eyes are. Spencer, on the other hand, is unreadable. His face is set and frozen in a blank expression that has all the hair on your arms standing up. He doesn’t speak, though, and that is probably the first time you’ve ever seen Spencer Reid that quiet. “Kid, are you listening to me?”
“Security detail won’t do,” Is all he says before guiding you out of the elevator and into an open space filled with office desk, trapped inside those god awful beige walls. Fuck, you think you are starting to hate beige; that specific shade of it. You hate how it numbs out everything inside, how trapped it makes you feel. No one really talks to you, but from the way they stare, it’s quite obvious that they know what Spencer won’t tell you.
At this point, there are various things happening inside of you and you can’t quite keep up with them all. Your stomach is roaring, sending sharp jolts of pain up and down your torso and you wince a little with each step you take. In turn, each step you take has you wobbling on unstable legs, and you take deep breaths to try and keep it together. Though every time you inhale, your lungs burn from the panic that lingers in the back of your brain. And finally, you brain, tired and overused, still seems to have an issue with processing the situation, and it takes you to a time that no longer exists– a time in which Spencer laughed at your literary themed jokes, or when he would come with coffee and nothing more than a smile. You understand now, why he kept you in the dark about his job; you understand the weight that this job has on him.
It makes you wonder if it’s a weight you’re strong enough to carry on your shoulders.
By the time you blink yourself awake from your world of past memories, there are people around you and you don’t recognise any of them. Somehow, you are seated at what looks like a very typical office desk; the chair swivels as you look around. The copy of The Argonauts on the desk is a dead giveaway of whose desk you are on, but then why isn’t he here? Why did he bring you to this cold, cold place and left you by yourself? Why– “Y/N? It’s Y/N, right?”
There are two women next to you, one to your right and one to your left. You don’t like how they make you feel like a cornered animal, but their faces show nothing but understanding and compassion, and you don’t feel like being a bitch will help your situation. Your anger, building higher and stronger with each passing second, is not because of them, and you are many things, but you like to think you are not unfair. “Yeah,” You croak out, gulping the ball of emotions that seemed to be stuck halfway down your throat, making it hard to talk or breathe without your lower lips wobbling pathetically.
“Y/N, my name is Jennifer, but you can call me JJ. This is Emily, we both work with Reid.”
It takes you a second to know who they are talking about. For you, it’s never Reid. It’s Spencer when you are laughing at one of his rants about something so niche and specific that you couldn’t find it anything other than amusing. It’s Spence when you’re heart is full and the butterflies are awake. And it’s Favourite Customer when you want to tease him. It’s never just… Reid. “Spencer,” You nod, embarrassed by your own need to say his full name. You don’t want to need him, right now, but you can’t help but look around the open bullpen. His wild, shaggy hair is nowhere to be seen and you don’t understand how the sweet man that stole your heart can do something like this. You are scared and confused and he just left you with strangers. “I uh, I’m sorry, but wha-what’s going on? No one will tell me anything, and I think I have the right to now why Spence had a gun and why I was dragged away from my shop and–“
If you had anything in your stomach, you’d vomit again but all you manage is to double forward a little, the pain of your hunger and your nausea together starting to get a little too much when the added stress of being alone with strangers got added into the mix. “Here,” JJ pushes a packet of saltines towards you. “Got into them when I was pregnant with my boys and now I always keep one here. It’ll be good to eat something, Morgan mentioned you got sick.”
“Thank you, I– Penelope?” Seeing her there, with her pinks and oranges and yellows, makes as little sense as seeing Spencer with a gun. Her warmth and happiness don’t fit in a place like this, that, so far, has only brought you anxiety.
“Y/N! Oh my god, sweet, pretty Y/N!” For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, you chuckle. And it breaks you down inside, how fragile you must seem for Penelope to wobble towards you in such high heels and yet, hug you with the utmost care in the world. It’s in her arms that you start crying again. “Oh no, no no no, don’t cry, it’s okay… You’re safe here.”
“Safe from what?” You wail, and if Spencer had bothered enough to be there, that would’ve been the first time he would have seen you raising your voice.
Ever since you were little, you never raised your voice. As an adult, it has happened once or twice, but never at someone specifically. Your nature is that of a more reserved person, someone who enjoys the spectator role a bit too much and prefers to observe from afar. There is power in knowledge, and it shouldn’t be surprising to anyone that you value the little bit of it that you have– so much so, that you built a business in which you could gather all the knowledge you deemed special and worthy and important, and then you could share with other people. Sure, you don’t always feel like your job is significantly important for the betterment of the world, but every time a client leaves with a smile, you know you’re doing your part.
“Cat Adams.”
The name alone is enough to make you fall onto the chair again, body limp and drained. Spencer is back, but he’s off. His lips are pursed in that way he does when he is unsure of what to say and he’s hidden his hands inside his pockets. It’s his own way of keeping secrets, hiding his hands from you… and you don’t like it. For as long as you have known him, his excitement shone through his hands; it’s the fast movements and the wiggle of his fingers that always make you smile. It’s how he best communicates and now it’s how he pushes you away. “Miss Y/L/N,” There is a man in a suit standing next to him, and you shrink in your chair under his stare. It’s heavy and cold, and you think that if he looks at you for a second longer you might start crying all over again. “My name is Aaron Hotchner, I’m the unit chief for the BAU. Please, come with me and I’ll explain everything. JJ and Spencer, you too. Penelope, prepare to brief the team in 20.”
Part of you wants to tell him no just to see what would happen. It’s clear, from more than just his title, he’s in charge. Your one and only connection to these people and this place is Spencer, so he is your tell-tale. He is your magic ball. It’s a skill, rather than a gift, being able to sense people like this– it’s something that years in retail and sales have taught you– and right now, you see how Spencer shifts his weight from one leg to the other while looking at his boss, waiting for instructions as if he couldn’t come up with them himself, and that, more than anything else that has happened today, is what scares you the most.
Because if a man like Spencer can’t come up with an answer for this specific issue, you are not sure anyone else can.
—————————————
“Can someone please tell me what is going on?” You are not above begging, hands balled into fists on your lap as you look up at Aaron Hotchner with pitiful eyes. You probably look messy, at this point, but you can’t bring yourself to care. All you care about is you. And your store. And the fact that an hour has passed since you first got to that godforsaken office and no one seems to care; no one seems to care about your time or your personal affairs.
They only care about that stupid package.
“Miss Y/L/N, I apologise for the confusion we’ve caused, but I guarantee that everything that has been done so far was to keep you safe,” His words, as strong as they sound, don’t feel any more assuring than then tentative glance Spencer throws your way.
“Oh god,” You breathe out, eyes wide while your mind ran circles around you. It is a dangerous thing, to let a literary lover imagine– your brain, filled with epic tales and unforgettable real stories, starts rushing towards the worst case scenario and you find yourself reaching out to hold at something, anything, that might make you feel grounded in reality again. It’s how soft Spencers suit feels in your fingertips that makes you realise you reached out for him. “Oh god, was that like, a bomb? Did I sign for a bomb? Oh god, Spencer, do people send you bombs? I didn’t know, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, Spence, I–“
“It wasn’t a bomb,” Spencer is quick to interject, hands finally out of his pockets when he reaches out to hold your shoulders. His thumb gently caresses your arm and you try to breathe somewhat regularly, imitating the rise and fall of his chest like he is the beacon light bringing you back home in treacherous waves– like he is the only one you can trust in that place. “Y/N, it’s okay, it wasn’t a bomb. The contents of the package are not important and they were harmless. But we need you to focus. I know I scared you and that this is all very overwhelming, but you need to listen to Hotch. Please.”
In your mind, you keep repeating those words to yourself– Listen to Hotch. Listen to Hotch. Listen to Hotch.
“Cat Adams is a prolific serial killer,” Listen to Hotch. Listen to Hotch. Listen to Hotch. “We’ve arrested her a few years ago and we believe she has resurfaced.”
Listen to Hotch. Listen to Hotch. Listen to Hotch.
“And that she has been targeting Reid.”
With one panicked look his way, you say what the words stuck in your throat can’t convey– I can’t listen to Hotch anymore. “She… She is a serial killer,” You whisper, eyes focused on Spencer in search of a nod or a shake of his head. This is the FBI, but you only trust him. “And she is after Spencer. Okay, I uh– I need– I don’t know what I need.”
If you asked Spencer, he would tell you that you have a certain something about you whenever you are tired. Your shoulders slump forward and your head fall on your hands in a desperate way to keep your neck upright. The lack of energy is almost visible in you, and sometimes he has to fight the urge to hold your head up for you.
But you don’t ask Spencer. Actually, you don’t say anything at all; you let people talk about you and around you, but your brain shuts down with each and every word, unable to retain any more information. “Can I go home?” There is a minute of silence before Hotch sighs, shaking his head. “But you said you arrested her, correct? Therefore I shouldn’t be in any immediate danger. I mean, it’s not like she has access to USPS delivery data from prison, right?” The more you speak, the faster you try to get up. You’re not thinking straight, and with all due reason– there is no power left in you to do this. There is no energy, no will, no strength to keep on going because it feels like you’re running in circle.
Spencer notices it, too, and in what can only be interpreted as a daring attempt to calm you down, he let his hand rest on your shoulder for a second. It’s a subtle way to tell his team to go easy on you, almost like he’s having a full conversation with Hotch without opening his mouth. You, however, don’t catch it, and you continue to try and push yourself upright and away from them. You need to get away from them.
“So she has no clue who I am and I have nothing to do with this because I’m just a bookseller! And I just happened to sell Spencer some books and we’re just friends!”
A wave of shame downs on you when the words leave your mouth, like you are admitting to failure when you haven’t even had the chance to try it to begin with. It’s like you deny Spencer’s presence in your life as a whole, like he has no significant place or role next to you, and you can’t seem to meet his eyes even when he starts speaking. “Y/N, I am so sorry,” The choked out sound that escapes him is the only thing that makes you look, makes you raise your eyes to meet his and you gasp when you notice he is holding back tears. “I’m so sorry, I thought she was gone, that she was not a threat anymore, I–“
“Reid,” JJ sighs, and you see something in her that makes you shift in your chair, a bit uncomfortable with the way his name sounds coming from her lips. “Reid, she’s going to be alright. We will get some officers to keep watch by her place, and we can file a request for protective detail during the day.”
“You know as much as I do that none of that will help!” Spencer’s voice gets higher and louder with each word and his hands are back at it again, flying around the room in frustration. You have never seen him like that before, and it scares you more to see him scared than to hear that you might now be placed under protective custody.
“Spence,” This time, when your voice wobbles in fear, it’s not because of him. “Spence, is it really bad?”
When you were little, you used to refuse to admit your were scared. You’d use any other word– frustrated, spooked, uncomfortable– but you would never admit fear. Your dad always thought it was the cutest thing, though, because despite you puffing your chest out and crossing your little arms over your chest, the one thing that always gave you away was the way your lips wobbled. Right now, you feel like that little kid again, refusing to admit to how you really feel but giving it all out anyways.
Spencer’s eyes read you like a book. You can feel the weight of them, moving across your face, taking in the lines and expressions you make without even realising. It’s like every part of you is a new chapter, telling him more and more of a story he is yet to finish, and with a sigh, sad and defeated, he nods. “It’s really bad, Y/N, I’m so sorry… this is all my fault. I should’ve been honest with you, I should’ve told you what I did and who I worked for and all that it brings with it.”
“No, Spencer, this is not your fault,” You breathe out, reaching for him in a moment of weakness. Your anger is still there, still simmering at the way that, in a sense, this is very much his fault, but you manage to rise through it when his nervous hands try to reach for you but fall nimble by his sides instead. “I mean, it kind of is, but it isn’t. And it’s okay. I’ll be okay. Right? I’ll be–“
“You’ll be just fine,” Hotch interrupts. His brows are slightly raised and from the way he looks at Spencer you think he knows something you don’t, but you’ve been feeling like that ever since you’ve stepped into that office. Everyone around you knows something you don’t– they know things about each other, about Spencer, that you simply don’t, and that you think you never will. Because after this– this betrayal, this hurt, this fear– you just don’t think you and Spencer can coexist anymore. You don’t think you can forget, as hard as you might try, the sight of him holding that gun to your head. So for now, you try to calm down. For now, all you can do is try to calm down. “Miss Y/L/N, we need to asses the situation, understand if you are in any kind of immediate danger. While our team works on this, we will ask that you relocate. Do you have relatives you can call? Friends?”
Technically, you do. Your parents live in New York and so do most of your friends– all it takes is one call. But that is one call you really don’t want to make. “I don’t want to leave my store,” Looking down at your hands, you wonder how easy it is for them to see right through you. “I just moved here. I know it might sound stupid, specially considering the… you know, this whole situation. But my life is here now and I would rather stay, if, if that’s okay, of course, I mean, you know… best.” God, you look so uncomfortable trying to stand up to his boss that the pity in Spencer’s face is almost palpable. “Please.”
“Hotch, she can stay with me.”
“Do we think that is a good idea?” JJ frowns, and you can’t help but nod, looking at Spencer as if he’s insane.
“I– That’s a very kind offer, but isn’t she after you?” You manage to ask, looking around for any clue their team might give you. These guys are professionals, though, and they know how to keep up their masks of indifference.
“Yes and no,” He explains, sighing before crouching next to where you sit. “Y/N, this woman– Cat– she is psychology disturbed. She is what we call a black widow, do you know what that is?”
You nod, blushing a little with how close he is to you. “I uh, I read a book that the main character was a black widow. Butter, by Asako Yuzuki.”
His smile makes you melt a little, and you hate how weak you are to the little windows of personality he allows you to see from time to time. “Yeah, I like that book too. But… this is real life. Cat Adams goes after cheaters, liars.”
“Then why is she after you?”
“Because I lied to her,” He admits, your eyes stuck on his expression and if you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his jaw ticks in response to what you can only assume to be anger. But you are not, anyone else, you are very much so yourself, an observer, a quiet listener, and it just so happens that your favourite person to observe and listen to is Spencer Reid himself. “I was our decoy to capture her and now she sees me a as a game. Almost like, like a game of wits, to see who’s smarter, to see who will win. Is this making sense, Y/N? Do you need a break?”
“I just, I don’t understand where I fit. I was just housesitting for you, I could’ve been a complete stranger.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Hotch interrupted, leaning forward in such a somber way the hair on your arms stand up. “You have managed to get something she never did. Cat Adams is acting out in jealousy.”
“What did I get? I’m sorry, I don’t–“
“Me,” Spencer said, eyes piercing into yours. “You got me.”
—————————————
By the time you make it back home, the moon is high and the roads are clear. It has been a while since you last got out of the house at the early hours of the morning. Fresh from the move and focused on your new store, making friends wasn’t at the top of your priority list when you landed, a year and something ago. Without someone to drag you out to bars or bribe you to go to clubs, you don’t really leave the house much at night, preferring the comfort of your own couch and the company of a book in the weekends.
“You know,” For a second, you almost forget that he is right there behind you, and you jump a little when his voice echoes in your empty apartment. “You’ve been to my place so many times, but I never really even seen your apartment.”
How do you tell him that there is not much to see, anyways? How do you tell Spencer that, in the time you’ve been here, the 365-plus-something days, you just never really thought about your apartment the same as your home? Your walls are empty, and it’s a little embarrassing, the way his brows shoot up when your turn on the lights. Besides your couch and a centre table, the place is almost empty. The TV stands on an old piece of furniture, a unit too dark and too classic to match with the rest of the things you have, and it’s a little too obvious that it came with the place and you were just too lazy to get rid of it. There is a singular throw pillow on the couch and a blanket, with a pile of books standing by the foot of it. But what really strikes him as odd, what really makes Spencer look around and make sure that yes, this is your apartment, is the fact that there are no shelves. There are no books, besides the four or five pilling up on the rug.
“You know, for a book lover, you have… no books,” He mumbled, hands on his pocket as he offered you that smile you used to adore so much, but that now makes you a bit uneasy– tight lipped, never really reaching his eyes. “Why do you have no books?”
“They are all downstairs,” You say, marching straight to your room to grab a backpack. “How many days do you think I’ll be staying with you?”
“Honestly? Until we solve this.”
“…And how many days is that?”
From where he stands, he can’t see your sagged shoulders, trembling hands holding onto the blue backpack you had laying around the back of your wardrobe. “Pack for as long as you can,” He shouts from somewhere deep inside your place. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Too late for that,” You mumble to yourself, grabbing the closest items your found– a couple of shirts, sweaters, and jeans. After today, it’s not like you have much energy left to try and plan outfits ahead, so anything will do.
It’s borderline funny, when you think about it… Just yesterday you were worried about what to wear, nervous hands sifting through your endless collection of sweaters to try and find just the right one for the day. Spencer visits you everyday, so everyday is a new day to impress him. You even start wearing makeup; a bit of mascara to make your eyes shine behind the glasses you refuse to wear, some blush to make the natural flush you get whenever he’s around seem more normal. It’s vain and futile, you know, but it makes you feel a tad more confident. A tad more… colourful. Like Penelope. “I think I’m ready,” You say once you’ve gathered all items you might need from the bathroom. “I’ll still be good to work, right?”
He nods, a smile on his face as if this is good news to him too. “Yes, we will have men stationed outside your store all day, so you don’t have to worry about anything while I’m away at the BAU. I’ll personally drop you off and pick you up myself.” His words don’t make you feel any more confident, hands fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. “Y/N, I promise, we will get to the bottom of this as fast as possible. This is temporary, and uh… I’d like to think that, you know, staying with me is not all that bad. You’ll get the bed and you are comfortable in my apartment, anyways, right? And, and! And we can have movie marathons and talk about books, cause I have a lot of books! You know that, of course you know that, you sold me half of them.” Clearing his throat when you just stare at him, you can see how Spencer is ranting. But you don’t mind the rant, actually; oddly enough, his nervous words are the one thing giving you a sense of normalcy right now. “Cat won’t come to you personally, if that helps. She is in federal prison, we’ve confirmed it yesterday, and anyone that comes in and out of your shop will be checked. Y/N, we– I’m not going to let anything happen to you, you need to trust me.”
“I do,” And you don’t mean to sound so sad, but you can’t help it. Right now, he’s the only person you can trust, and for you, that is one of the saddest things you’ve ever experience, because even though you know you need to pull away from him, that you need to put some distance between yourself and the man standing right in front of you, you just don’t trust yourself to be able to do it. “Anyways, can we go? I’m really tired, it’s been one hell of a day.”
The walk over there drains the last bit of life you still have in you, foot dragging and tripping on the road, and you hate that this is how Spencer holds you for the first time– stopping you from falling on your face. “Sorry,” You mumble, following him once you’re on your feet again. The way his hands hover around you while you slowly make your way up the stairs of his apartment is adorable, and each and every time your heart skips a beat for him, it also breaks for yourself. You are digging your grave, and the worst part is that you don’t seem to care. You’re weak, you think to yourself, exhaling heavily when you finally walk inside the familiar apartment.
You are so tired that you don’t really think about things too much, dragging yourself to the armchair you adore so much and sitting down. The way you kick your shoes off isn’t very polite, but you’ll worry about that tomorrow; for now, all you want is to shut your eyes and drift off to sleep, lulled by the muted green walls and the stories they told. While you slip into the hypnotic pull of a dreamless slumber, you can hear shuffling in the background, and later on, much later into the night, you don’t feel it, but Spencer covers you with your favourite blanket– the wool one his mother gifted him ages ago, the one you always leave tossed aside on his armchair. And you don’t see the way he smiles at you either, like he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders and doesn’t mind; not as long as you get to sleep as soundly as you are then.
Actually, when it comes to Spencer, you are blind. To logic, yes, but to him, too. For someone as observant as yourself, it’s a little ridiculous how oblivious you are to the looks he send your way when you’re not paying attention. They linger, and he smiles in a way you’re yet to witness, but they are all for you. It’s the one bit of him that Spencer can give you, and you’re not even aware of it enough to take it and keep it safe.
But maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better to not have hopes.
Sometimes, Spencer thinks, fixing your blanket so that it tucked under your chin just right when your curl into a small, defenceless ball of exhaustion, it’s better to never have loved, then to have loved and lost.
He would know.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
aaaahhhh this is really happening! it's now official: a muted shade of green is an active series :D sorry if it felt like it took so long for an update, I just don't have much time to write recently, but I'm working on it! hope you like it <3
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid series#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid x oc#nerdy spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid cm#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid core#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#elle greenaway#emily prentiss#jason gideon
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Jungkook
Princess | Intro/ Part 01
There's more to it than what meets the eye.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression
Length: 6.5k Words
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook hates loosing.
And that’s especially true when it comes to bets- because he also can’t really pass up any opportunity to show off and be the best at something. So when he took on the bet with Jimin, he didn’t think anything of it- after all, even if he lost, he could still simply teach that so-called ‘puppy’ Jimin was supposed to be working with a killer choreo and make his way on top either way.
What Jimin failed to tell him, however, was that you are an absolute menace.
Not only are you spoiled to high heavens and dressed head to toe in pretty designer pieces designed and tailored just for you, no- your attitude is making him want to throw himself into a busy road to be run over by any moving vehicle willing to do so. It’s been not even thirty minutes he’s spent in the meeting room, and he already regrets his big mouth with Jimin.
But maybe it’s just a bad first impression. Maybe, you’re just having a bad day.
“So, basically, we’ve got four weeks to make it work.” Your manager says, having finished his plan as he stands at the end of the table everyone is sitting at, you included- though you clearly do not listen to the conversations happening at all, instead occupied with a game on your switch console, decorated in plastic gemstones and cute stickers, sound not even all the way down as to not interrupt anyone.
Jungkook feels his blood boiling. Can’t you at least attempt to listen? After all, it’s your career that’s on the line.
“I’ll need the possible song choices she made, and I also gotta get a copy of the guidelines and what the judges generally look for. Doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to have it before we start making anything up.” Jungkook offers, arms crossed. You’ve not even looked at him once today.
If he just went by looks, you’d actually be quite cute- you're clearly taking good care of yourself, and you fall right into the category of hybrid girl he’d see himself interested in- but your character seems to be the exact opposite, as you stare down at the small screen in your hands, lashes long, hiding your gaze a little from him.
“We can totally do that.” Your manager says. “I- uhm.. Are you okay with that too?” He asks towards you, and you simply take in a deep breath before you sigh, shoulders shrugging and head somewhat nodding. Your eyes however never break away from your game, instead, you just adjust your seating postition a little before you become completely detached from the situation again. “I’m sorry about that. She’s.. Having a bad day.” Your manager justifies.
Jungkook smells the lie right away.
“Practice will start at 7 AM then-” Jungkook starts, and that seems to catch your attention as your face turns into a frown. “-And we’ll practice the whole week, except weekends.”
“That’s too early.” You mumble, grumbling down at your game while your legs stretch out under the table, feet brushing against his shins. You’re not wearing shoes, only your knee-high socks, having discarded the slip on’s early on for no apparent reason other than comfort.
“She usually sleeps until.. 11 so..” Your manager starts, and Jungkook has to swallow a growl.
“8.” He says sternly, staring at you who scoffs down at your hands. “She’ll have to get up earlier then.” He decides, making you lift your chin a little, before you save your game, turn off the console and put it on the table, your arms now crossed as well as you finally, for the first time, look at him.
The fire in your eyes could seriously burn someone if it was to be manifested into a real flame, he decides.
“You’ll have to wait until I show up then.” You answer him, and his eyes narrow, feeling challenged. But before he can respond, your manager seems to sense the growing tension between you two, as he dissolves the meeting quickly to have you driven back home.
Jungkook however, can’t let go this easily.
“You forgot to tell me that she’s an absolute bitch.” Jungkook growls into his phone, sitting on his couch with the TV on but on mute. “There’s no way I’ll be working with her for four weeks without committing a crime.” He threatens, and Jimin has the audacity to laugh.
“Oh Jungkookie, don’t let her fool you!” He laughs. “She’s a literal angel, believe me. She just acts all tough.”
“Or she was just interested in you.” Jungkook denies. “I’ve spent barely an hour with her and I already know She’s gonna be a handful to manage.” He sighs.
“Come on now, she’s what? Half your size?” Jimin playfully exaggerates. “Just put her in timeout, big guy, and you’ll be fine.” He jokes, very much aware of Jungkook’s rather dominant nature due to his wolfblood. And while the joke is funny, it’s also a problem.
Jungkook doesn’t know if he can really stay calm while working with you. And his career could be over in a second if he so much as lashes out at you verbally- because no way would someone work with a hybrid choreograph or dancer who can’t keep his cool. He already has issues getting some gigs due to his wolfblood mixed in- one mistake and he can surely put his career to rest.
He really regrets taking on this bet now.
Hopefully this won’t end too badly.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You really do not turn up at 8 like he told you to.
He’s impatiently waiting in the practice room, your manager and stylist and other staff already present- everyone trying to get a hold of you with no luck at all. It’s only until an hour later that another staff member informs everyone that you’ve finally woken up, and that you’re currently on your way to the practice room.
Jungkook is pissed, to say the least.
If you work like this the entire four weeks, there’s no way he can manage to push a good choreography into your head that you can pull off properly on stage. And if you fail, it’ll be on him- and he just can’t accept that. Hopefully, you’ll warm up to the idea of actually putting effort into this.
Hopefully.
When you finally turn up, you don’t appear to be sorry at all- still somewhat asleep and in no way ready to start practicing anytime soon. Instead, you sit down and take out your breakfast to eat, while your stylist runs a brush through your hair. But what’s odd about this, is more or less that Jungkook can sense a total shift in energy right now.
It’s like they’re shielding you, giving him no access to you until they deem the timing alright.
And you just robotically eat your little breakfast, while everyone else scatters around you, rushing from spot to spot. Jungkook isn’t too sure what exactly might be happening- but then again, it’s also not unusual to see such a scene. You’re a showhybrid after all- meant to look pretty at all times and in every living moment just in case there’s a camera around. And he knows that the practice is going to be filmed occasionally for some behind the scenes content for your fanbase- which is why you have your stylist around in the first place. You’re just supposed to look like you’re not wearing any makeup at all.
No one wants to see reality, because reality is what everyone can witness if they look in the mirror. And that’s boring. That’s not entertaining. That’s not something to be jealous of, or something to admire.
In a way, Jungkook starts to feel a bit sorry for you. Do you ever have a moment for yourself?
Either way, the moment the cameras start running, you switch character almost instantly. Suddenly you’re polite, soft spoken and determined to get every step right- though your true nature does poke it’s head through on occasion, especially when you can’t get something quite right the first or second try.
“Maybe we need to work on how to keep to the beat first.” Jungkook suggests, and at that, you seem to break, sighing with an agitated groan as your tail unravels, falling limp behind you. He’s not seen this happen often- his best friend Yoongi being a dog-hybrid with a curled tail as well, who can be quite grumpy most of the time. But even he never has his tail this.. Lifeless.
It’s unnerving to see.
“I’m not lobotomized, mutt.” You groan, making the manager motion to cut the cameras for a second. “I can keep to a beat, you’re just shit at teaching.” You growl to yourself, sitting down stubbornly as you visibly try and mask the fact that you’re out of breath.
Truth be told, Jungkook isn’t technically a choreographer. He usually works with professional dancers or simply follows whatever he’s given by an artist themselves- so yes, he might actually be a little rusty when it comes to teaching others.
Do you have to be so rude about it though? No.
“Well we’re going around in circles like this.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll get us something to drink. Try and calm down a bit..” He attempts to soothe your temper, as he leaves the practice room- mostly so that he himself can escape the situation for a moment.
He’s not sure what it is. Maybe your scent full of anger and fear filling the space so much that it feels like it’s drowning him in the room, or the fact that you always have to be so rude-
Wait.
Fear?
Alarmed by that, Jungkook walks a bit faster with the water bottles in hand to get back into the room- just to find you not there anymore, everyone looking at him as if they’re surprised to see him back already. “Where is she?” Jungkook asks, and your manager blinks a little, caught off guard.
“She went to get something to drink.” He states, making Jungkook frown.
“I said I’m gonna get us some. Why did she go by herself?” Jungkook asks. “She doesn’t even know where the vending machines are.”
“She said you were taking too long.” A stylist mentions. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I was gone for not even five minutes?” He growls to himself, before he hears you enter the room again, a small juicebox in hand that you punch the tiny straw into. “Don’t just run off.” He scolds you.
You roll your eyes.
“Yeah alright, Daddy.” You scoff, walking past him to sit in a corner- actually facing it for some reason, your back turned towards everyone else.
“Ah, don’t be alarmed.” Your manager explains. “She.. Sometimes does this. We don’t know either why, and we don’t really question it either. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be right back to practice.” He beams at him, and Jungkook feels weirdly played.
Something’s odd here.
But it’s also none of his business.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
The next day, you’re not there on time again.
And despite the fact that Jungkook had told you no food in the practice room was allowed, you clearly disregarded that as nothing but background noise, while you take out your bag of foods in the middle of the large room.
“I said no food in the practice room.” Jungkook scolds, walking towards you to stand right in front of you, arms crossed. “and you’re also late again. Two hours to be exact.”
“You said no food.” You shrug, lifting up the small bag of puffed rice crisps. “That’s snacks.” You respond, making him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw.
“put it to the side.” He says. “You’re here to practice, not to eat.” He reminds you, able to talk freely with almost none of your staff around today.
“can’t practice on an empty stomach.” You respond however, letting yourself fall into your bag, before you take out your phone to scroll on it while you eat your snacks- crumbs already littering the floor. “Why’s your wifi so shit in here?” You mumble to yourself, when suddenly, the signal stops entirely. “Hey, your internet cut off-“ you start, before you spot him putting his phone down. “Turn it back on-“
“Since you’re acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” He simply says. “wifi stays off until you practiced.” He scolds, boldly taking both your snacks and your phone from you to put it on a table close by, the act alone catching you so off guard that it has you frozen in place while you process it. “Do you want to get up yourself or do I need to help you with that as well?” He asks, and you glare at him.
“Touch me and I’ll sue you.” You threaten, and he watches you for a moment as if to see if you’re serious- before he decides you’re clearly not, with the way your tail slightly twitches, clearly needing to be consciously held down by yourself to not wag.
“Alright that’s it.” He simply tells you before he walks towards you, and much to his dismay, you let yourself fall limply down onto the ground as if you’re trying to become liquid. “You’re being ridiculous right now-“
“let me have the wifi again!” You just huff. “and my snacks. I’m hungry.” You argue.
“get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast then.” He shakes his head, before he grabs your wrists to lift you into a sitting position. But the moment he lets go, you’ve flopped back down again, lips twitching.
Now your tail is wagging, clearly.
“so that’s what you’re after, huh?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “too bad. I’m not playing your game.” He says, before he walks to the side where all his stuff is, changing his shoes.
“wait- What’re you doing?” You ask, watching him tie his sneakers.
“going home.” He answers without looking. “were clearly not getting anywhere.”
You sigh, groaning out lout before you angrily hit the floor-
Getting up to walk towards him, pulling his jacket from his hands before you let it fall onto the table. “I wanna practice.” You pout.
“What a bummer, princess.” He answers, taking his jacket back to slip it on. “I don’t. Now get your stuff, and then-“ He tells you, walking closer before he points to the door behind you. “-get out.” He demands.
And you just angrily huff at yourself, doing just that.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You fail to get to practice on time again the day after.
And the day after that.
But on friday, Jungkook has finally had enough of your poor excuses and frankly stupid behavior.
"Why is she late this time?" Jungkook asks your staff, jaw clenched as he's already frustrated again. You're clearly not taking this seriously, and he honestly doesn't know how anyone else has ever managed to work with you in any way.
"We're.. not sure." Your manager says, face showing his own shame about your behavior. "She turned her phone off, we can't reach her."
That's it.
Jungkook can understand a lot of things. You're used to being spoiled and having everything set in front of you on a silver platter- he gets that. Sometimes, people's minds can be poisoned by wealth and success. But turning off your phone? That's too far.
What if something actually happened? What if you're sick, in need of help, in danger? This is absolutely ridiculous behaviour, and he does not care anymore. "She said she lives in the city here, right?" Jungkook asks, and the manager nods. "Alright, where exactly?" He wonders, and a stylist of yours calls out your address.
And that sets him off even further- because you barely live ten minutes away from him. Which means there's not even a single reason as to why you would be late at all.
"What are you going to do?" Your manager worries as Jungkook changes his shoes and slips on his jacket, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle.
"I'm getting her myself."
If there’s one thing Jungkook hates, then it’s people isolating themselves just for their own convenience. It’s mainly due to his best friend years back doing that constantly- turning off his phone to get some quiet time for himself, until he actually did end up being in trouble.
And when someone tried to call him, and couldn’t get a hold of him, they just thought ‘It’s probably one of those days again.’
If Jungkook didn’t go against his better judgement, if he didn’t end up checking up on him despite his mind telling him that it was for nothing, Yoongi would not be alive today.
He rings your doorbell multiple times, annoyingly so to get you to stand up at some point. There’s no way you can sleep through that, especially when he starts angrily knocking onto your door. Suddenly, you open it, staring at him with eyes barely open. “What.” You ask, and Jungkook takes a look at you for a second.
You’ve clearly been asleep, but you don’t look rested at all- eyes barely open as you glare at him, and funnily enough, one of your ears is even a bit floppy- not quite entirely down, but also no standing as straight as it usually does. “You’re late.” Jungkook scolds. You attempt to close the door again, making him attempt something dangerous.
He puts his hand in between the door.
But, maybe Jimin wasn’t so wrong after all, because you immediately open the door again, now wide awake as you look at his hand, worried you might’ve hurt him. Only when you don’t find anything you push his palm back towards him, and cross you arms.
“Come on.” He says, nodding towards the hallway behind him.
“No.” You deny.
“What do you mean, no?’ he asks, agitated.
“I said no. I don’t wanna.” You answer, walking back into your apartment- and with your door left open, he takes it as an invitation to walk inside.
The second he closes the door and turns around, he’s in shock.
Cardboard boxes, trash bags, crumpled papers and wrappings all over the place. Shoes litter the entrance area, your coats are thrown over the chairs at your open kitchen which sink is filled with unwashed dishes. The windows are shut, curtains heavy as they hide the mess in your home from the outside world. It’s so dark that Jungkook feels like if he wasn’t a hybrid, he most likely wouldn’t be able to see where he’s stepping at all.
How long have you been living like this?
The apartment isn’t big, there doesn’t seem to be many rooms at all. After searching for a bit he finds you curled up in your large bed, pink bedsheets and blankets halfway on the floor while your little gaming console chimes and beeps while you play.
“..come on now, you’ve.. got the weekend off.” Jungkook says. “it’s just today-“
“I said I don’t want to.” You growl, face focused on your game. “now fuck off and leave me.”
Jungkook sighs. This really isn’t any of his business.
But somehow, as he walks back into the main area of the small apartment, he finds himself opening a new trashbag to throw away all the plastic strewn around. He puts your shoes in order, places the garbage bags in a corner to have them out the way, before he rips the cardboard apart to throw away easier later. He’s not sure why he’s doing that- maybe partially to annoy you and get you to get out of bed, or maybe because he pities you.
This isn’t just laziness. From the way you act, to the body language you scream out quietly, to the fact that you don’t seem motivated for anything at all.
This is something deeper.
“What’re you doing?” You growl from a corner, before you walk closer to rip the cardboard box from his hands, throwing it in a corner again. “I told you to fuck off.” You threaten, and he nods.
“heard it loud and clear.” He agrees with crossed arms, and you huff.
“Ears seem to be working then.” You snap. “the mistake must be in your brain.”
“I can assure you it’s working just fine as well.” He answers, and you snarl at that, distinctive canines showing.
“Then why are you still here digging through my shit?!” You bark at him, and he shrugs.
“Because no one deserves to rot away like this.”
It’s quiet at that, for a good moment. The only sound heard is the clock in the kitchen ticking, some faint rain against the windows, and a garbage bag slowly slipping a little from its position. And when it falls to the floor, he catches a short second of your eyes tearing up, before you turn around, looking away from him before you run off into your bedroom-
But the door won’t close with all the clutter, making you angrily growl at it while you try and somewhat pull it close.
Jungkook slowly walks towards you, to pull your hands off of the door handle, making you drop down to the floor in defeat, sitting right on your clothes that are laying on the floor. “leave me alone.” You cry to yourself, head low and hybrid ears even lower as you sit there, kicking away some of the clutter.
The wolfdog hybrid slowly squats down to your level, before he carefully moves a broken jar away from your leg and onto a small table close by. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asks, and you kick your leg again at that, a small box flying through the room.
“I just want to be alone!” You bark. “I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t want to go to practice, I don’t want to do this stupid contest, I don’t want anyone to look at me!” You complain loudly, and Jungkook would easily call this a textbook temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for your clearly desperate tears.
“did you tell your management?” He asks, and you scoff, sniffling.
“as if they care!” You huff. “it’s always just do this, do that, go here, eat that, smile, be nice, film everything.!” You tell him. “I want to go home!” You begin to cry now, hiding your face in your hands.
“Home?” Jungkook wonders, unsure what you mean. Isn’t this your home?
“I just wanna go home..” you continue to cry into your hands. “I wanna go see mom, and dad..” you mumble muffled into your palms, and Jungkook feels terrible seeing you like this. He doesn’t know you, but something is clearly not right. This isn’t acting, because your body language, your scent- everything tells him that you’re in genuine distress.
“Maybe you can visit them?” He wonders, slowly reaching out to put his hand on your knee, offering silent comfort that you, for now, seem to accept. “do they live far away-“
“they won’t let me.” You say. “they told them.. they told them I don’t wanna see them and that I hate them, and now they hate me.” You whimper.
“They?” the wolfdog asks, pushing some clutter to the side to sit down as well.
“the company.” You mumble. “because.. my dad didn’t want me to move away back when.. when I was still a pup.” You say. A pup possibly meaning that you were still underage. “and.. back then, I thought it was for the best. This was such a one-in-a-million chance..” you reveal to him. “I thought it was worth it.”
“Do they threaten you?” Jungkook worries, and you’re quiet for a moment.
“..They’re all I have.” You admit. “my.. my apartment. My money. My name. They own me.” You say, defeat evident in your voice as you slowly calm down again, tension leaving your body. “just.. leave me alone.”
“I cant.” Jungkook denies with a sigh. “not anymore.”
“fuck off-“ you start, grabbing at his hand, but he somehow moves it around, holding yours now instead.
“I won’t.” He sternly says. “Alright? I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.” He promises, and you look up at him with slightly red eyes, confused.
“Figure out what?” You ask, and he smiles.
“How to bring you home.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You’re very clearly not very happy about Jungkook currently cleaning your apartment with you.
You’re slow and sluggish, and you constantly complain about everything- and Jungkook can somewhat understand it. You’ve quite literally buried yourself in this little cave, having someone take it apart like this must be horribly uncomfortable. But it’s for the best- and you’ll soon realize that.
That doesn’t mean you don’t annoy him, still.
“Come on now, get up.” Jungkook scolds you, as he watches you sit on the couch.
“What?” You complain. “I’m cleaning.. under the coffee table.” You pretend, but he doesn’t take that as an appropriate answer.
“We agreed on one area at a time. We’re still in the kitchen.” He says. “now get over here and help me with the dishes. I wash, you dry.” He decides, making you somewhat reluctantly get up. It’s odd to have anyone in your apartment at all, since not even staff is allowed inside- you constantly find and make up excuses to keep them out at all times. This is your only safe space, after all.
The only place no one is looking at you.
“yesterday..” jungkook slowly says, putting another plate towards you so you can dry it. “..you said that the company owns you.” He remembers, and you nod. “To what degree?”
“I have an independence license.” You say. An independence license is basically a permanent permit to live on your own, and also work on your own. Basically, with it, you don’t need an owner at all. “But.. the company has full control over my finances and such. And they own my, you know, brand name.” You shrug.
“I meant it, you know?” He tells you, draining the sink of the soapy water. “I’ll try and figure something out.”
“Don’t bother.” You simply say. “it doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Jungkook denies, drying his hands on a towel. But you stay silent as you put the dishes away in their proper places, not really sparing him any glance at all again.
Jungkook doesn’t really know yet how to help you. First, he wants to somehow get into contact with your parents and set things right again- maybe he can get their names and phone number from jimin who’s been working you for a good while now. And then, maybe they can help, too.
“I’m tired.” You complain as you sit down on the now finally somewhat clean floor, all the trash in bags and in a corner.
“You can take a nap.” Jungkook agrees, and you look at him with positive surprise.
“wait, really?!” You ask, tail wagging a little.
“sure. You’ve been working hard.” He approves. “and now that your couch isn’t cluttered, you can take a proper nap there.”
“Why not my bed?” You whine, disappointed.
“bed is for proper sleep. Couch is for naps.” He explains. “if you go to bed now you’ll just start rotting again.”
You stay quiet for a good moment, before you speak again, looking out the windows, curtains by now pulled open. Slowly, you walk over to the couch to sit down on, staring at your hands in your lap.
“I’m such a fuck up, am I not?” You sigh. “imagine if people knew how much of a failure I am.”
“You’re not a failure.” Jungkook denies, sitting down next to you on the couch. “just.. a bit lost at the moment.”
“Jungkook..” you say quietly, looking at his chest. “I really want to go home.” You admit, and he smiles softly.
“I know. And I’ll figure out a way, promise.” He offers, opening his arms. And much to his surprise, you take the invitation- even so much as to crawl onto his lap, leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a lot more than he thought this was going to be, but he also can’t deny that this feels oddly comforting for him too.
And even though your tail is still limp and lifeless, at least you’re starting to open up. And maybe jimin was right after all.
Maybe you’re just acting tough.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook quickly learns that you really must’ve left home at a very young age- because you’re very much completely lost in translation when it comes to general tasks that fall onto someone when they live alone.
You’ve got no idea how to properly do laundry, you don’t know how to cook at all, and you have no idea what cleaning products to use for what. When he asked you if you had some window cleaner, you’d stared at him for a good second before you asked him why he can’t just use soap- and cooking in your book is simply boiling water for instant noodles.
It’s no wonder your apartment was in the state it was in. No one ever taught you how to look after yourself and your own home.
“Alright?” Jungkook asks while you stare at the washing machine with a determined gaze.
“put the clothes in, put the soap-squishy-thing in, close the door and then set it to that program there.” You repeat. Jungkook nods.
“But-?” He presses, and you stare at him for a second, thinking.
“But...uh..” you try and find an answer. “no colored stuff with white clothes? And no black with colors?” You try, and he grins, tail wagging.
“Good girl. See? You’re not dumb, you just didn’t know.” He praises. “now press start and then we can go laze around a little until it’s done.” He says, making you happily press the start button.
Something that Jungkook has noticed, is that the entire apartment seems oddly.. sterile almost, in that it looks and feels taken straight out of a magazine. You’ve got no thing personal it seems like, no blankets that aren’t a neutral color, no toys, no plushies despite you telling him by now that you love these things. Instead, you only really have your little gaming console and that’s it- your bedroom is mostly taken over by designer clothes and shoes, as well as all sorts of accessories. The bathroom contains shelves full of skincare for face and body, but everything else appears to be not at all to be your personality.
“You can get yourself some new blankets for the couch now that we’ve cleaned up.” Jungkook mentions, but at that you simply begin to pout next to him, legs pulled close to you as you slide down a little, slouching.
“Nah, they’ll say no.” You huff, watching the TV commercial play.
So you really meant it when you said that the company has full control over your money. He believed it might just involve big spendings, which would make sense- but it looks like it more so involves every single purchase you make instead.
“How long is your contract?” He asks, and you shrug.
“I think forever.” You say, flopping to the side, legs hanging off to the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Thats.. not legal.” Jungkook frowns. “did you never renew it?”
“Huh?” Your ears tilt towards him for a second. He still wonders why one of your ears is floppy these days. “..no. I don’t think I ever did.”
“I.. how long have you been with them?” He asks, and you hold your hands in front of you to start counting. And the more fingers you seem to add, the more concerned he becomes.
“Well, I uh.. wait, I left when I was..” you mumble to yourself. “and now that I’m.. I think eleven years?” You answer, looking at him.
The maximum contract length for hybrids is five years.
Five.
“I.. okay, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and you nod, slowly sitting up. “next time you’re at your company’s HQ, try and get a hold of a copy of your contract. But don’t tell anyone what you need it for.” He says.
If he can get a copy of whatever slave contract you’re under, getting you out of it will be easy. There’s strict laws for hybrids in place after all- one can’t just work them like pets, there’s rules every company has to follow. And that is the same in your industry as well.
“am I gonna go to jail?” You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.
“No no, you did nothing wrong.” He denies, reaching out to pet your head- pleasantly surprised when you visibly accept the gesture.
Because he speaks the truth. You did nothing wrong.
You were simply used from the start.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
On Monday, jungkook is standing at your door, 7 AM.
And you really, really do not want to go with him.
“Come on now-“ he urges again, pulling on your fluffy sweater while you cling to the doorframe of your apartment building entrance, having just seen what exactly Jungkook uses as his preferred means of transportation.
“No, you’re not getting me on that death-trap, no way in hell!” You complain, escaping his grasp just for a second before his arms are around your middle, easily removing your fingers from the door with a smile sent towards the security guard as reassurance, before he carries your struggling body towards his Harley. “No!” You complain. “This is kidnapping! Abduction!” You cry out, before he puts the helmet he’d gotten recently on your head, hands fastening the strap beneath your chin before he gets onto the motorcycle as well, sitting in front of you.
And the second it roars to life, you’re clinging to him with arms and legs involved, resulting in Jungkook adjusting your grip a little to not strangle him.
Well- at least he’s not driving fast.
“I hate you.” You complain when he removes the helmet again in the underground parking lot beneath the dance studio, pupils still blown wide, cheeks a bit flushed.
“If you just got up yourself like a big girl, I wouldn’t have to drive you.” He easily tells you, helping you down from the vehicle. “we’ll do this again and again until you learn.” He explains, stepping into the elevator with you- still lowly growling to yourself, pissed off at his attitude.
You’re not a kid. He’s stupid.
But it does work, because at least you somewhat practice with him for a few hours, before you stubbornly lay down starfish style in the middle of the practice room, demanding a break- one he grants for once, even if it’s just ten minutes.
“I really don’t wanna go to that contest.” You huff, half of your face squished against the shiny floorboards. Jungkook slowly walks towards you, squatting down to flick his finger against one of your ears that’s again, a little floppy today.
“I know.” He answers, because he does still remember your outburst, devastating cries edged into his mind.
“Hey Jungkook?” you ask, as he absent-mindedly rubs your ear between his fingers, almost enchanted by the softness of it.
“Yeah?” He answers, noticing the way you clearly enjoy such a simple touch to the fullest. You’re constantly surrounded by people, and yet it’s clear that you’re touch-starved and just treated like a doll and nothing else. How lonely must you have been until now?
“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “or a boyfriend?” You wonder, leaning into his hand with closed eyes.
“No.” He answers, unsure and most of all suspicious.
“nice.” You smile, tail wagging softly. “I’m your girlfriend then.” You decide, and he freezes.
“...what?” He asks, sitting down now, a water bottle next to his crossed legs. “You can’t.. that’s not how it works.” He explains, but you shrug.
“My mom and my dad didn’t like each other either.” You reply, staring at nothing ahead, chin on your hands. “they just.. got together out of convenience. Cause they were the same hybrid breed, and I guess didn’t have anyone else at the time.” You mumble. “love isn’t real anyways. I’m pretty- isn’t that enough for you to like me?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with a gaze so.. detached that it makes him feel pity.
Is that your view on the world around you?
“You are pretty.” He responds. “but that’s not a foundation for.. a relationship.” He shakes his head.
“I don’t mind that you’re a mix.” You shrug. “you’re handsome, I’m pretty, and I have money.” You say. “if we get together thousands will flock to your dance studio. You’ll be super successful. “ You propose to him. “doesn’t even have to be for long. You can just.. I don’t know. Spend some time with me until you get bored, and then move on.”
“No.” He denies again. You frown.
“Huh.” You huff, slowly sitting up. “whatever then, I guess.”
“Do you even like me?” he asks you, confused, and you shrug before nodding.
“You’re nice. A bit stick-up-you-ass, but overall nice.” You offer.
Jungkook just watches you for a second, in full disbelief at what had been done to you. Raised in a place of luxury, with a golden spoon in your mouth and lies fed daily to create the view you have on everything around you right now. No kindness without some ulterior motive fits your reality. Everything has to be convenient for everyone involved.
“I don’t want a relationship without love, no matter what I might gain from it.” He explains himself, and you roll your eyes, before you flop onto your back, arms crossed again as you sulk. “You shouldn’t settle for less either.”
“Yeah well I wont get that.” You answer. “no one wants me. They want.. her.” You say, while twirling the silver name tag from around your neck in your fingers.
Until he leans over you, body entirely covering yours for a second, causing you to become nervous and wide eyed at his bold move. He’s looking at your neck, and you’re sure he must’ve realized what’s in it for him- after all, everyone is out for something to gain.
His hands move around your neck, fingers warm. You close your eyes as his face draws closer, awaiting the inevitable.
When suddenly, the collar around your neck is undone, and pulled off your neck.
“what-“ you ask, eyes open again as you watch him still above you, now looking into your eyes, and no longer anywhere else.
“I don’t want her.” He says, referring to the name on the tag around your neck that’s now in his hand, pushed into the floorboards where he holds himself up.
“But I’d like to get to know you instead.”
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jungkook imagine#hybrid imagine#bts jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagines#jungkook imagines#bts jeon jungkook imagine#bts jeon jungkook x reader
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Now and Tomorrow and Everyday After (Sylus x F! Reader) MDNI 18+
Synopsis: In spite of the 'tails' attempts to separate you from Sylus, it only seems to bring the two of you closer.
CW: Fingering, Oral (Female receiving), P in V, Praise Kink, after care, adult themes
Author Disclaimer- I do not own the LADS characters or lore and did use some dialogue from the recent banner's Sylus Card. I do NOT use AI and do not permit anyone else (or any other entity) to copy and advertise my work as their own. Definitely not proof read or edited because I was having “don’t post fear” and just needed to go for it.
Author Note: I made an attempt and this is my first time writing Sylus and posting it so yeah! Thanks for reading- all kind comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Remember, to be kind to yourself and others today! I also high key think Sylus is going to this zone to protect MC from Ever cause he makes mention of that but that's beside the point.
*this is my take on the Night of Secrecy Card. I wanted to fill in some gaps*
You pick at your nails nervously under the warm air of the AC. The city of Linkon passes you by- your eyes flickering to Sylus every so often as he drives you both to one of his safe houses.
Your nerves are on fire- not from the danger of whatever pot Sylus decided to stir up, but rather the fact that tonight is the night.
Or so you have decided.
And the night meaning boning. You want to bone this man hard.
Okay- wait, it’s probably more like make love to, but you aren’t sure where you stand in Sylus’ life or if his feelings are all that deep.
And would he even be capable of feeling that way towards you?
The thought makes that tight ring of nerves turn into a heavy ball in the pit of your stomach. Sylus really means a lot to you and you feel he shares that sentiment, but you have also been wrong before and it ended up just being a friends with benefits situation. You weren’t “girlfriend material” as you often joked with Tara.
But he is having you tag along, you think, he didn’t say he didn’t want you around. He just said he was leaving to protect you so maybe-
“What are you agonizing about over there?”
Shit.
“If you changed your mind-“
“No!” You say probably too abruptly, “I’m fine- everything is great, better than great even! Just thinking.”
Sylus chuckles and you don’t even have to look at him to know he is seeing right through. He knows you better than anyone at this point and he knows when something is bothering you.
You would honestly consider Sylus the closest thing to a best friend you could ever have. You can confide in him, depend on him, and you have a lot of fun with him.
For the most part, you think he has learned to depend on you, confide in you, and he certainly seems to enjoy himself when he is in your company. Luke and Kieran say they can tell when he’s been with you because he’s less trigger happy with the people he’s dealing with (which you’ll take as a win if you need to find one somewhere).
Not to mention- the way his hands were splayed along your thighs last night when he sat you on the kitchen counter was mind numbingly intimate. His fingers drew gentle shapes on your bare skin and left goosebumps in their wake. Sylus’ forehead was pressed against your own and his lips mere inches away, but he didn’t kiss you and you have been thinking about that all day.
What if he didn’t want to because he’s just trying to lead you on until you are of no use to him? What if all of these nice things and words and actions are all just to make sure you will still help him and resonating won’t be an issue again?
“What is it?” His voice is gentle, “maybe I can help you be less… befuddled.”
You shoot him a look that earns you a laugh, but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Sylus has been so invested in hiding you from the worst parts of his world and now that he’s opened up, he’s worried he’s lost you unintentionally and that all the time you have spent together is long forgotten.
You shrink slightly into your seat- avoiding his eyes the best you can and you say your question as quietly as you possibly can.
“I didn’t catch that, Kitten.”
You say it slightly louder now but still not enough and you can feel the deadpan look he is giving you.
“Howdoyouknowifsomeoneisromanticallyinterestedinyou?”
It’s all a bunch of gibberish, you had been far more confident of your assessment of his feelings when you were both walking and he was holding your hand. That would have been a really natural transition into discovering this question without any anxiety, but now you’ve had time to think about it and overthinking is the enemy of success.
And love, evidently.
“How they treat you, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, sweetie, when someone is interested in you romantically, they may do things like hold your hand, call you pet names,” he says with the slightest bit of humor, “go to the movies, buy you gifts, play the Claw Machine until it’s dark outside and the arcade owner has to finally kick you both out. Maybe even play kitty cards in spite of losing almost every match because their opponent is a cheater.”
“I am not a-“
Your brain does a hard reset as you begin to realize what he is trying to tell you.
Sylus is telling you ‘yes- I am romantically interested in you’ and the dumbest, biggest smile ever on your face.
“Was that the answer you were looking for?”
You nod, suddenly feeling shy, “yeah- that was exactly the answer I was looking for.”
The rest of the ride is quiet with one of his hands on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. You watch as the city quickly turns into a distant dream and Sylus’ safe house, not to your surprise, is very very large and it does very little to calm your nerves.
“I see owning multiple properties can be quite handy. A smart crow always has a few tricks up his sleeves.”
“The same can be said about having multiple slippers.”
You turn to him and stick your tongue out playfully, “ha ha, very funny.
“This safehouse doesn’t happen to warm up, does it?” your teeth begin to chatter slightly and your bare legs are littered in goose bumps, “it’s colder than hell in here.”
Sylus rolls his eyes at you, but begins to walk towards the fire place.
“It is snowing outside.”
The warm hues of the fire illuminated the room and reveals several boxes scattered about, some opened and others not. The rest of the house looks similar to his main house, but maybe slightly more scaled down. It’s beautiful and it has a great view of Linkon and the mountains behind it. It’s almost easy to forget this is a safe house and not a vacation home.
“I’ll leave after dawn. You should stay here for a while.”
You turn with a scoff, “I know your ‘territory’ is pretty safe, but as I said, a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”
“Really?”
You choose to ignore him- knowing all too well that he will suss out your plan to join him on his dangerous little adventure. There isn’t a single thing in the whole world that could convince you to stay here otherwise, but Sylus has his own ways of ensuring things go the way he wants and you don’t feel like waking up handcuffed somewhere for your own safety.
“What’s with all the gifts? I didn’t think you celebrated Christmas.”
Sylus chuckles, “I don’t, sweetie. I held an… ‘appraisal salon’ not that long ago.
“Would you like to take a look?”
It honestly is kind of like being in a candy shop, but the candy shop is the black market and instead of delicious treats, they sell guns and while guns are cool (when used appropriately), they certainly aren’t helping you get Sylus any closer to the bedroom than you were five minutes ago.
“Look at these bad boys!” You hold the unwrapped vintage gun, “this is a classic piece and very difficult to find.”
Then a stroke of genius occurs.
“Let’s have a contest,” you flash a cheeky grin, “whoever can disassemble their gun first gets to ask the other any question they want.”
“You truly are relentless.”
And of course Sylus agrees because he’s Sylus and he loves a good challenge. However, you are extremely determined to be the person asking the question and you know this specific gun quite well. You and Caleb learned how to shoot using these guns and you could disassemble it by telling it to.
The gun is pointed at Sylus’ chin right as he is about to finish putting together his own weapon. You eat up the delicious grin on his face. It makes you feel empowered- he makes you feel empowered.
“First- say the thing.”
He rolls his eyes and gives you a soft smile, “I like your confidence and your determination very much. Now go ahead, ask your question.”
Uh oh- you hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.
“I’m sleepy.”
WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW?
Sylus looks a bit perplexed and you cannot blame him- you need to fix this NOW!
“Can you… tuck me in?”
“I thought a certain relentless hunter would ask about my destination.”
You shrug, “I care more about the present than an answer I won’t get. So will you do it or not?”
Sylus is suddenly swinging you up into his arms and you yelp in surprise, but it doesn’t seem to get the usual laughing reaction you thought it would. Instead, there is a heat in his eyes that you have seen before but could never place what he was feeling until you began to feel it too.
“Of course, Kitten,” his nose brushes against yours, “this request is way more powerful than that little gun.”
Every footstep closer to the bedroom is another step towards you having to be brave and you find yourself studying Sylus’ features as the dim light of the hall lamps barely kisses his features. He is so beautiful- you could probably study him forever and find more things you adore about him.
He catches you looking and he returns your smile of adoration- flinging your shoes to the side and going to set you on the couch to quite literally tuck you in.
And ACTION!
“I’m not ready to lie down just yet.”
Sylus cocks an eyebrow, “if you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”
“What if I don’t want you to leave?”
Your question hangs in the air and it’s hidden meaning seems obvious to you, but then Sylus puts you down on the ground and you realize he may have missed the actual meaning of your words. Is it that unbelievable that you would want to have sex or are you doing a magnificently poor job of conveying that point?
“We better make the most of our time until dawn then.”
In the spur of the moment and desire coursing through your veins, you find the courage to push him down onto the couch behind him. With a gracefulness you have never been able to execute before, you straddle him and the way his breath hitches makes something inside you break.
Sylus’ face is an adorable and sexy pink and his breathing becomes more unsteady in your clumsy hands.
When your lips finally touch his, it feels as if you have been asleep your entire life until this very moment.
Your fingers find purchase in his hair and Sylus pulls you into him- his fingers surely leaving bruises along the back of your thigh. The kiss is filled with passion and desperation- his skin feels like it’s on fire under your touch and every moan against your lips sends shockwaves through you.
“You really don’t want me to leave.”
To emphasize his point- you tease his lower lip between your teeth that makes him feel absolutely feral.
“S-Sylus,” you pant between kisses, “over there.”
You anticipated him to be a bit rougher, maybe throwing you down on the bed or something, but he lays you down gently like you are a precious, fragile gift. His hands are firm and confident as he cradles you, needing to have you as close as physically possible.
Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt and loosening his tie. Your hands glide across his chest and your nails gently graze your territory- one of your nails taking the time drag across his nipple. Sylus bites your lower lip in response, his hips grinding into you, and the growl that claws it’s way up his throat excites you. Your heart feels as if it’s beating out of your chest by the time he pulls away and (not so gently) takes of your shirt.
The cool air is a stark contrast to the heat you feel on the inside- Sylus roams your bare chest and core with his eyes, his fingers hooking into your pants and pulling them down. You help by lifting your hips at an embarrassingly fast pace.
“Looks like we are on the same page with not wanting to waste any time.”
He crushes his lips against yours again, leaving bruising kisses on every inch of skin he comes in contact with. Sylus returns the favor from earlier, his practiced mouth circling your nipple with care. His tongue flicks and laps at the sensitive skin and his teeth are quick to follow, leaving love marks and spit littering your skin before making his way to the the other.
You are mesmerized as you watch him- your core wound tight and dripping with need at the sight of him worshipping your body. Leaning back, you close your eyes and enjoy every single sensation.
You have soaked the bed underneath you by the time he makes his way between your legs- you are so caught up in his silent worship that you can barely focus on the task at hand.
Strong, corded arms pull you to the edge of the bed and you jolt from your bliss filled daze- and God are you grateful you have. Sylus looks beautiful between your legs with his cocky smirk and pink cheeks- his warm breath lingers on the sensitive skin between your thighs.
With your legs slung over his shoulders- Sylus licks a stripe along your folds and ends at your clit, circling the sensitive nub and making lewd noises that you have only ever heard in porn. No one has truly, properly gone down on you and when they have, it always seemed like a chore.
“Sy-Sylus, you don’t have to if you don't wan-”
You are cut off when he sucks on your clit, his tongue taking the time to tease the nerves and leave you a whimpering mess.
“I’m not doing anything I haven’t thought about doing for a very long time now,” he kisses along the inside of your thighs, “now stay focused, kitten.
“Don’t look.”
One of your hands tangles in his hair and the other twists into the sheets. Sylus feasts and laps up your pleasure, his face covered in your essence and his nose breathes in your heady scent with happy, deep hums. His large hands roam your body, keeping your hips down and your legs clenched around him. They eventually return to your sore nipples and those practice, cold hands, become warm and attentive. He gropes and squeezes your breasts in time with his tongue as it darts in and out of your heat, his nose working to keep your bundle of nerves stimulated.
“Sy-” you clench your legs around his head tightly, a string of curse words leaving your mouth, “f-fuck- I’m, I’m-”
Sylus’ fingers dip between your folds and his tongue returns to your clit. His other hand holds down your hips as his fingers drive you to your first orgasm of the night. Your moans are shrill and untamed- embarrassing almost- but the more you sing for him, the harder Sylus works to get more and more of those pretty noises out of your mouth.
When he finally comes up for air, your pleasure is dripping from around his mouth and down his chin. Crimson eyes make eye contact with you and he brings his soaked fingers to his lips- shamelessly savoring the taste of you on his skin.
You can barely contain yourself when he begins to crawl along you- your greedy hands using his hands to pull him to you faster. Sylus gazes at you adoringly and you are overwhelmed with your own affections for him. You went from hating him to loving him, desiring him, and at least for tonight, he is all yours.
“What are you thinking about?”
Mindlessly, your hand cups his cheek and your thumb traces the spot where a scar should be from your first encounter.
“Am I being too greedy… if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me?”
Sylus almost looks relieved by your words, grabbing your arm and leaving a plethora of kisses as if to reward you for being open with him.
“You always had that right,” his warm breath and deep tone sends goosebumps of excitement up your spine, “which means… you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?”
Your breath catches when you realize what he is insinuating and you blink a few times before nodding. He smiles and leans down, but you stop him momentarily. Your mind feels like it is going a thousand miles a minute as you run through every negative outcome. What if you are really bad in bed? What if he decides he doesn’t want to be with you or bother with you anymore after you share such an intimate moment with each other?
“Sylus-”
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you…? You just said “yes?” his voice is desperate, “I’m hoping yes is still your answer because… I just can’t hold back anymore.”
A wave of want and need flows through you, but before you can continue, you want to make sure this isn’t the beginning of the end.
“If we do this,” you whisper, “if we have this intimate moment together- you can’t just disappear on me. I want you, Sylus. Now and tomorrow and everyday after.”
The Onychinus leader blinks a few times before the largest smile paints his face.
“Oh, y/n,” he sighs against your lips, “you have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say those words.”
Sylus kisses you deeply, his lips caress yours and your hands explore each other- your nails make designs in his back as you try to keep yourself as close to him as you possibly can. Sylus’ clothed crotch is stained in the mess between your legs while he rocks his hips into you. His hand is tangled in your hair and the other is pressing you flush to his sweat soaked chest. The kiss only continues to deepen in passion and need- you barely get him to let you take a moment to breathe.
“He-hey- no biting here,” you tease, pulling him back by his hair after he nips the skin on your neck a bit too roughly.
His pupils are blown wide with lust and pent up frustration, “First you want it rough, then you want it soft. You’re a tough one to please tonight, y/n.”
You are lost in the depths of his eyes and the pooling of emotions behind them. You forget to breathe until he breaks eye contact to leave soothing kisses over the bite mark.
“What do you really want?” he uncharacteristically pleads, “won’t you tell me like you just did?”
While his voice may be innocent, you are far from believing this act. With a smirk, you use your strength to roll him on his back and your hands intertwine with his- keeping them pinned to the bed. The look of surprise on his face is refreshing, to say the least.
You lean down and kiss him slowly, nipping at his lower lip and eating up the breathy chuckle he releases.
“I told you a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”
“So you want control?”
You nod victoriously, certain you are going to be the one in control tonight. Sylus returns your confident smile with one of mischief before he somehow pins you down in the spot he was before.
Sylus chuckles deeply, “Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.”
Before you can inquire about what he means, you feel the pressure of two of his fingers sliding inside your wet cunt. An open mouthed, guttural moan leaves your lips and Sylus just watches- his other hand holding your chin so he can make eye contact. He wants to see your pleasure and know he is the only one you are thinking of- the only one you are seeing.
Sylus wants you to know- no, understand- that you are his, not anyone else’s.
“Sy-sylus,” you plead, “pl-please I ne-”
“Don’t run.”
Your back arches upwards and you try to pull away from his hand when you feel a warm wave gush and soak the sheets beneath you. Sylus doesn’t relent and quickly coaxes another orgasm from your shaking body.
“Yo-you’re… so annoying…”
“I won’t deny it,” he crawls off of you with a grin, “I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy…”
Sylus unzips his pants and pulls down his brief- his cock springs free and slaps against his lower ab muscles. Your mouth is watering in anticipation at his size- of course he’s perfect. He’s Sylus.
He climbs back on the bed and pulls you closer to him- the head of his cock presses against your folds and you feel yourself clench around nothing.
“I misspoke.”
“What…?”
Is he changing his mind?
“Greed can never be satisfied,” he places your hand on his chest, your hearts beating in sync, “but you can temporarily soothe it.
“Say it again, y/n, do you want it?”
Time feels like it stops completely when his eyes meet yours. Your devotion and adoration for each other is magnetic- an unspoken magic between both of you. Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, pulling him to you and you take your time to kiss him slowly, reassuringly.
“This is my answer.”
Whatever lust and want that had been held back erupts within an instant. Sylus crushes your lips with his and he slowly glides himself inside of you- your legs tighten around his torso and your whine of pleasure interrupts the heated kiss.
“F-fuck, y/n.”
Sylus’ pace is both gentle and punishing- you can feel him trying to be gentle, but the more he holds himself back, the more you want him to let go.
“Let go, Sy,” you whisper, “I’m yours.”
His hips set a punishing pace- your collective sighs and moans are the melody to the filthy sound of sex soaked skin and your hips meeting. His tip grazes the opening of your cervix and his abs stimulate your aching clit. The spongy sensitive spot inside of you is relentlessly stimulated with each movement.
“Such a good girl,” he growls into your ear, “fuck you’re so tight.”
Your only response to his praise is pathetic whimpers and cries. It doesn’t stop him- if anything, he only begins to praise you more. Sylus is wrapped up in the moment and wants nothing more than to stay in this moment with you forever. You are safe and in his arms- he is finally reunited with you in body, mind, and soul and this spurs him on more, his cock driving into you harder and harder and his hands digging into the flesh of your ass and hips to keep you in place.
You cling to each other, lips and teeth clashing against each other sloppily as you both lose your composure to the others’ wanting. Your velvet walls clench around him desperately and your fingers try to find purchase on his back, in his hair, anywhere as your orgasm overtakes you.
With a few more rough thrusts, Sylus stutters inside of you and thick ropes of cum coats the inside of your walls and fills you to the brim. He lays on top of you with very little of his weight, his face in the crook of your neck. Sylus leaves soft kisses along your neck and sings words of praise that you can barely register.
At some point, he gets up and you hear the bathtub turn on and the soft padding of feet. Sylus’s strong arms cradle you- taking you to the now filled bathtub that is more than big enough for two.
You straddle his lap so that you can face him. Sylus kisses you slowly while he cleans you- pouring water on your hair, scrubbing your scalp, cleaning the sweat along your shoulders and on the back of your neck. You return the favor, taking your time to make sure he can feel all the love you have for him and how much you care for him.
He helps you lotion and brush your teeth- at no point do your feet ever actually touch the ground again. Sylus sets you on the couch in one of his shirts and begins to change the sheets.
“Do you want some help?” you offer, your legs sore, but not wanting to be too much of a pillow princess.
Sylus rolls his eyes at you, “I’m capable of tackling this mission on my own, sweetie, but I will let you know if another pressing issue arises.”
You scoff playfully and wait for him to finish making the bed. Sylus picks you up and places you on the bed, you snuggle up next to him as soon as he lies down and, much like when you were in the grasslands, you lay your head on his bicep and he pulls you closer to him. You have never felt quite so warm or safe in your entire life and your resolve only hardens further.
You cannot allow Sylus to go by himself into the jaws of danger. You refuse to.
You turn and kiss his bicep, settling deeper into his arms.
“Good night, my clever Crow,” you say with a yawn, “remember not to steal the blanket.”
He snorts, “I will try my best, kitten. Now get some rest- I’ll keep you safe.”
You nod- knowing in your heart that you will always be safe with Sylus around- and let sleep take you. You have a long flight and some ass whooping on the agenda tomorrow, after all.
#sylus lads#sylus love and deepspace#sylus x mc#love and deepspace sylus#sylus smut#sylus fluff#sylus x reader#lads mc#lads sylus#lads x reader#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x you#sylus qin#sylus x y/n#sylus#sylus x oc#sylus x female reader#sylus l&ds#sylus lnd
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Skz biggest kinks & pleasures (hyung line)
18+, MDNI, I'm not putting smut warnings as a surprise for readers but it's all just smut, don't read if underage.
Word Count:2,933
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
main masterlist here maknae line version here
BANGCHAN: CHOKING
This man is just dominant through & throughout when it comes to sex. Don't get me wrong he can definitely be a huge softie & the aftercare never is anything below 10/10, You both enjoy the dynamics you have both talked about, that being sub & dom dynamics.
You're currently under him with your legs around his waist as he has your nipples between his fingers as he is sucking yet another line of hickies into your neck as your hand is wrapped around his length, jerking it slowly as you share small moans. He releases his lips from your neck with a small suction noise before he slithers his way down you slightly, making you release your grip from around him & you let out a disappointed whine but it's short lived as his lips attach to your nipples as he slides two fingers into you, making you thrust your hips subconsciously into them, weaving your fingers into his dark hair & tugging on it slightly as you wriggle as much as you can while he is still laying on you.
His hand finds its way up to your neck before putting a small ounce of pressure on it which makes a higher pitched noise come out of you & you can feel him smirk beneath you.
He gives equal attention to both tits as you push down on his fingers ever so often, hinting for him to put more pressure on your neck, which he has absolutely no issue doing.
"Like having my hands wrapped around you that badly, babe?" he smirks to you as he removes his fingers from your dripping hole when he feels you clenching more than usual, edging you (this is definitely another huge kink of his).
He smirks as he removes his hand from your neck, letting out deep breaths as you no longer have the restriction but it doesn't last long as he lines himself up to your now gushing pussy as he leans over you again, kissing on the reddened skin of where his hand was, turning your head to the side for better access as he finally slides inside, you letting out a hum as you grip onto his arms, him making a deep groan noise which is music to your ears.
He begins to thrust at a slow pace, giving you the curtsey of allowing you to get used to having his cock stretching you out, your nails now digging into his arms, making him let out a few hisses between groans & kisses. He hits an extra deep spot when he changes position & rhythm which makes you squeal & he quickly throws his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans so they're not bouncing off the walls as much, his hand obviously sliding back up to your neck in the meantime, making it harder for you to kiss him back.
"You need'a be quiet sweetie, don't want Jeongin to hear, he's still home babe." he huskily whispers out after breaking the kiss, noses basically touching as he watches your eyes roll backwards, right before pulling out. "Flip over f'me, my pretty girl." he speaks out as he jerks himself off, helping you flip over anyway as your legs & breath are both shaky, placing a pillow beneath your pelvis.
LEEKNOW: RIMMING
This man has been so secure in his sexuality since LIKE FOREVER so this isn't a shock to anyone that he enjoys rimming. He does not care whatsoever when it comes to 'roles' during sex, he just likes to go with the flow. This man can be the biggest sub on earth & beg for every touch & can also switch to the most pain loving dom on earth. Nothing makes Leeknows toes curl more than when you are giving him oral (sloppy & with plenty of spit ofc) & letting plenty of spit drip onto his pretty hole before he takes it apon himself to hold his legs back so you can suckle on there too.
You've been jerking him off on your shared couch for the pst couple of minutes, his hips jerking into your hand as you're using your thumb to spread his gallons of precum along his angry red tip.
"cmon jagi, just put your lips on me, come n get a taste" he teases & chuckles & you chuckle back, not with him but at him. His cheeks are so red & his bunny teeth have made his bottom lip swollen from the constant nibbling on it but yet he's still trying to tell you what to do.
You roll your eyes before giving into his commands (because how couldn't you) & don't waste any time before taking him into your mouth & hollowing your cheeks as your tongue swirls around every inch of it it can reach despite the heaviness of his dick resting on it, paying extra attention to the underside of his tip as he is the most sensitive there as your fingers fondle his balls which makes him throw his head back, hips stuttering as he tries to hold himself back from thrusting into your mouth, because he knows if he does, you won't give him what he really wants.
This goes on for a few minutes & he is taking continuous deep breaths as his hair is now sticking to his face, enjoying the moment but you both know just head isn't enough to make this man see stars anymore. "y/nnie, g-go lower, pret-pretty please" he whines as you pop off his cock with a loud suction noise, letting all the built up spit that hasn't already leaked out from the ides of your mouth while he was in your mouth drip out onto his cock as you use it as lube to jerk off with, making eye contact with him as you still fondle his balls.
"Ah you want me to lick your pretty hole, hmm? Hold your legs f'me then, since you deserve it, don't you? Been so good for me." you say in a soft voice & he nods his head, letting out a 'uh huh' as he wraps his hands around the back part of his knees & pulls them back, allowing you as much access as you need to see & get right up against his now spit covered, pretty pink hole.
You scrape your fingers against his thighs as you sink slightly lower on your knees & lick a slow circle of eight along the full thing & he instantly moans, way louder than when you were sucking his cock not even two minutes ago.
You begin to slurp on it as your fingers reach back up for his balls & cock, fondling & jerking him off, his cock leaking more than a broken faucet.
You allow all spit that forms in your mouth to roll off your tongue straight onto his rim, making him let out whines that anyone in the street can hear, his hips grinding against your tongue, his eyebrows furrowed as you are eating him as if it's the last thing you will ever be able to taste, Leeknows hand now jerking himself off as you slide a finger inside him, making him shriek & not even five seconds after you begin to feel for & locate his Gspot, he is cumming all over his own abs as his eyes roll back & legs shake in his hands.
you keep tasting him but slow down until his orgasm finally dissolves & he gives you a smirk, looking down at your drool covered face before you crawl up his frame & kissing him, allowing him to taste himself & he hums in approval. "your tongue i-is honestly the best thing on this earth." he pants out which makes you blush as you kiss him again.
CHANGBIN: FEMINIZATION/ MOMMY KINK
Just by looking at Changbin with one glance, anyone would assume he not so physically wears the pants in the bedroom due to his stature but that is not the case. Infact, there is nothing that turns this man on more than wearing his pretty little thigh-highs, little miniskirts, lacey bralettes & maybe even a bit of perfume & some pretty makeup that he is so proud of being able to do.
LOOOOVEEESS having his pretty nipples toyed with as you ride him obviously praising him the entire time, making sure to smother the lipstick he has on onto your own lips before pecking all over his face, leaving physical proof of the kisses you're giving him.
"Look how pretty my mommy is, so cute f'me" you say in a low voice as you're kissing the part of his chest not covered by his pink bralette, your legs holding yourself up on each side of his waist, straddling him.
"so pretty just for you y/nnie" he replies, ears turning bright red & his cheeks blushing a few shades darker than the actual blush he brushed onto his cheeks an hour before.
You do a few playful bites onto his chest, making him whine as he thrusts under you, not moving much because of the weight on top of him. "Can you take off your pretty bra for me, mommy? I wanna see your tits baby" you ask, not making direct eye contact due to wanting to admire the pretty now messed up lipstick fades on his top lip & on the top of his chin.
He nods enthusiastically before sitting up, your chests now pressed together as he unclasps it & throws it aside, instantly lying back down & you following after him & latching onto his right nipple as your hand cups over his muscle, not being able to fully hold it due to the size.
The whines & moans that leave his lips as you do this is better than any music you could ever listen to. You suckle on his nipple as your other hand pinches & lightly pulls on his nipple, making his hand rest on top of it, not wanting your hand to stop its movements for even a second. In the meantime, you can feel his hardon underneath his plaid skirt & matching thong & you would be cruel to not give him even more pleasure despite knowing he could & will orgasm just from nipple stimulation alone.
You pop off his now red, raw & sensitive nipple after forming a small bruise from the suction & look at him to see him already looking down at you, pupils dilated & curly poodle hair now damp with sweat. "You want your pretty pussy played with too, jagi? Take off your pretty panties & give me them & play with yourself for me while I keep myself here, mkay?" you say as you raise your hips the slightest bit & he wastes no time as he shimmys his panties down & puts them into his mouth on instinct, just like what you would want him to do.
You smirk at the action before leaning back down & now taking his other nipple into your mouth as he hisses at the sensation. He picks up his leaky cock into his hand & begins jerking himself off at a fast pace, you both almost being able to hear the wet noises of his shaft due to how much precum is leaking from his tip over the noise of the wet tongue noises of your lips & his loud but muffled whines & groans.
You can feel his legs shaking behind you & you open your eyes, not stopping your actions as you can see drool beginning to soak through the thong in his mouth & his eyes rolling backwards as they go crosseyed. You begin to bite lightly & moan onto his tit & before he can even realise what's going on, cum spurts out of his cock & you feel it spray up your back, soaking staining your shirt.
You pop off his nipple again & smile at him & kiss the tip of his nose as you pull the now soaked panties out of his mouth, listening to his pants as you nuzzle yourself into his neck.
"W-was so good, my precious baby." he whimpers out as he kisses your ear, wrapping his arms around you & gives you a small squeeze, smiling ear to ear, breathing heavily. You just kiss his neck in response.
HYUNJIN: CUM SWAPPING
Anything that's to do with his lover, he is absolutely obsessed with. It's 100% confirmed (by me) that he is such a soft lover especially during sex, but that doesn't mean he isn't messy. He loves having you plaster him in hickies & loves doing it back, he loves leaving small bite marks on the inside of your thighs & you love nothing more than putting lipgloss on just before kissing all up & down his shaft, claiming it as yours.
But up until recently, he thought there was no way to have you both mark each other inside, that was until you both masturbated together while instructing the other on what to do & once you both orgasmed, you both put each others fingers into your mouths to lick them clean, & that is where Hyunjins biggest kink sprung to life.
You're both sitting opposite one another, feet planeted on the bed with your legs outside his, to stop them from closing since they tend to shake when you're close to orgasm.
"Don't put a finger inside yet, hunny, rub your pretty clit instead f'me, alright?? It's so swollen baby, it wants your attention." he hushes out, voice shaky as he is pumping himself at a slow pace, keeping the same pace as you do.
You follow his command but let out a small groan in disapproval at his words but it is short lived as your fingers make contact with your little nub, making you throw your head back & your hips buckle upwards at the contact. You let out a happy sigh before looking back at the gorgeous flustered man in front of you.
"So wet for you Jinnie, cup your balls for me, look so heavy, I want to touch them so badly, baby." you splutter out, eyebrows frowning & he chuckles at your words as he does what you ask & begins tapping his balls with his fingers before cupping them in his hand & using his thumb to roll them in his hand as the other fingers massage them.
"cum for me n then you can feel them, I'll save you some cum i promise, beautiful. Look at how soaked the sheets are hunny, you can put a finger in if you'd like, show me how tight you are jagi." He scrunches his eyes together as another dribble of precum leaks from his red, pretty tip, a low groan leaving his plush lips.
You do as he says & you put two fingers into your dripping hole, a squelch noise leaving the area as you begin feeling around for your G-spot, it being harder to find since your fingers are shorter but you find it after a few seconds. You let out a long whimper as your other hand reaches down to your clit, now receiving double pleasure as your legs begin shaking as you try your hardest to keep your eyes open to watch the man in front of you come undone at the same time as you.
"F-fuck, you're so beautiful y/n, my own piece of moving a-art. Go-gonna cum with you, mkay? Don't wait for me." He whines, voice sounding raspy & breathy as he speeds up his movements.
You both have your eyes glued to one another as you feel your orgasm building up in your lower stomach, legs now feeling fuzzy. "g-g'na cum Jinnie, s-so goo-" you are cut off as your orgasm sprays out of you, coating the bedsheets, your fingers & even a few droplets hitting against Hyunjins cock & that's all it takes for his orgasm to hit him like a truck, cum spurting over his hand as he twitches a bit & back gives out slightly, leaning right into you.
You lay on your back & he follows quickly behind, chests connecting as his cock goes limp against your thigh. Your lips lock together as your tongues poke against the others for a few seconds but you both break it due to lack of breath. You both nuzzle your noses against each other before you move your hand up to his lips & before you even hint towards anything, he puts them in his mouth as he sucks them clean.
You stare at him in awe as he hums around them before allowing you to pull them out. You open your mouth to say something but you are left speechless as he brings his own, cum covered hand, up to his lips & licking a stripe of cum that is across his thumb before tapping your cheek. You don't need to hear what he wants as your lips part & he spits the mix of your fluids into your mouth & you whimper at the taste before swallowing it & sticking your tongue out to show it's all gone.
"Now you're marking me inside too, so poetic." you chuckle & his cheeks go red as he hides his face in your chest as he slides down to lie there. "Don't act as if you don't like that fact." he mumbles back, feeling shy but also extremely turned on.
#skz smut#stray kids#changbin#bang chan#lee know#hyunjin#hyunjin smut#changbin smut#bangchan smut#leeknow smut#skz#seo changbin#oneshot#kpop smut#straykids x reader#straykids hard thoughts#straykids#felix#seungmin#jeongin#han jisung
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When I was a teenager I thought we were going to have robots everywhere, like the future was going to be the Jetsons, tiny robots and big robots that would just do everything. Most of this was not reading scifi, it was reading Hans Moravec and Ray Kurzweil.
And robots do have their place, but it's mostly as highly specialized machines doing jobs that are either highly repetitive or very bespoke but programmable. Everything else?
The dream is to have something that can replace a human, a humaniform robot that can just slot right into the spot a human once occupied, serving drinks or caring for the elderly, and I just have so much trouble taking the idea seriously now. Maybe it's because I've spent time in the software industry and have seen how errors and issues accumulate, and how many damned corner case you need to account for even if you're in a walled garden. But the idea of actually being able to get to the point where these things are fulfilling the promises made about them still seems laughable, and we're closer than we've ever been.
Last year Amazon began doing a trial of Digit, one of these vaguely human robots, and I cannot tell how much this is a stunt and how much this is actually useful and cost-effective. Knowing how companies work, there is every incentive for the robot-makers to "trial" their product in very limited capacity at very unsustainable costs, maybe even free, which is then used for "exposure" in order to hype the market and ideally get some funding to make the thing actually work, or work within costs, or give the devs and engineers some time to work out the bugs. I don't think any robot company owes me a look at their finances or the parameters of their deals, but it sure would be nice if every single article about this weren't a puff piece written exactly how I would expect both companies want it written.
And Boston Dynamics has Spot deployed, but reading their press releases makes me cringe from the corpospeak, and I'm still left questioning how much this is "real" and how much it's a gimmick meant to fund future investment. It's entirely possible I'm just a curmudgeon, but it feels like everyone has something to sell, and the market for someone saying "this is actually just non-viable at these costs" is very small.
The early 2000s optimism has turned me into such a cynic where technology is concerned. I need to go crack my copy of The Singularity is Near and see what, at 18, I thought the future was going to be like. My stance, until I actually see something that's not a carefully staged press demonstration, is that this particular bit of "the future" has more catches, costs, and problems than it wants to show the public.
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everyone arguing with material analysis/assertion about how art is a "luxury" has rarely if ever spent rent or food money on art, if they even pay rent or buy their own food, and if they did that would be considered extremely dysfunctional, and thats what i/we mean. artists are not providing a necessary service.
our plane crashes in the Andes and you are not particularly excited about my "can draw that Playboy centerfold of Marge Simpson from memory" like that is not an essential survival skill. lots of extremely skilled workers work in luxury artisan and craft jobs, it's not an insult to say even a very famous and very talented and influential artist is not producing a commodity necessary for the furtherance of human life. none of us are doing that, no matter how we stretch and strain the definitions of "essential" or even things like "morale" or "group identity". i will burn my copy of Finnegan's Wake to stay warm and thats what it comes down to.
i get foamy crazy snarling and biting about the idolization and obfuscation of what artists actually do because it is a labor issue! the public conception of artists as people possessed of a divine talent they dont consciously work to develop like any other skill, and the public idea that we are simply pleased and privileged to make art all day and "not work", something people say to my face every time i get asked "what i do", is largely responsible for the absolute dogshit reality of how subsistence and working class artists have to survive. we usually dont have health insurance unless we're so poor we qualify for medicaid AND live in a state that will enroll us. most of us are too disabled or crazy to go to a real job every day. most of us have tried, over and over, to enter the normal workforce, and have failed, and been forced to develop alternate skills that allow us to make rent in the ten hours per month we're actually functional. many of the artists i know work from bed because standing up is dicey. this has been turned into a charming eccentricity of famous artists and writers instead of people wondering why a person would need to stay in bed all day and take the enormous bother of bringing their stupid pens and paper and writing board or typewriter or whatever to their bed instead of just getting up and getting dressed and going to work. ive done this, i spilled ink in my sheets. its a huge hassle.
and artists play along with this mystique because people dont want to buy paintings from sadlords! they want to buy paintings and books and marge simpson nudes from cool guys who get a lot of chicks and wear rockstar outfits and party a lot, because of the transitive properties! of course!!! this is basic marketing!!!!! and if the artist doesnt play along they turn into Sad Story Artist where they're doing emergency commissions and posting about how sick they are all the time. this is not cool or fun or sexy. it's a sand trap and its very hard to recover from. im struggling with this right now!
famous and successful artists and writers are constantly ending up 60-90 years old with cancer and multiple sclerosis and dementia, being the subject of some sort of public, last-ditch, humiliating GoFundMe because painting paperback covers fr 60 years means you dont get a pension, you often dont even have kids who can take care of you, you dont have life insurance, you dont have health insurance. 'died penniless and alone' is one of the stereotypical artist endings for a reason, that is not fiction. this happened to more artists than i can list on two hands. look up what happened to Peter S. beagle, the guy who wrote The Last Unicorn. you write a book like that you should be set for life, right? NO. thats not how it works
i'm not saying 'all artists are disabled and working class or poor' because that isnt true, observably. nepo babies and trust fund artists exist, obviously. but they take an outsized portion of the spotlight when the public thinks of the concept of "artist". they are not actually the norm. the average artist is probably making under 40k and living in extremely precarious circumstances and has had periods of homelessness, illness, extreme debt and/or bankruptcy.
this is true even for the 'successful' artists. having one or two or ten good projects and being a household name does not save you from just not having the safety net provided by a normal career path. i was very close with a major, famous 2000s network television creator and team that you have heard of. they won awards, they changed culture entirely, they were a big deal. one of them was turned down for a half dozen projects by the same network that made millions or bilions on their franchise over several years (each pitch is completely unpaid btw, imagine carefully preparing a PowerPoint for morons for months at a time for no reimbursement and thent he morons ask you if you can put a teenage witch looking for her lost cat in the alps in it and you're like, haha, well, it's a 4 part hard sci fi miniseries set on Europa and takes place entirely inside a pressurized lander settlement, i mean Ridley Scot said he was interested already and he pitched a bottle episode about a carbon monoxide poisoning, soooooo....and the executives look at each other and they're like "it's jst not really what we're looking for right now, thanks for coming in" and you go to coffee bean and tea leaf and kill yourself and thats sort of what its like. i made that example up it didn't actually happen i'm using an illustrative example), worked on a canceled film, and just. gradually ran out of money. thats what happens. that guy ended up slowly selling off all his belongings, getting roommates in a one bedroom apartment, and then eventually having to just live on a friend's couch for years. famous guy. you probably know his name. another major member of that same team ended up in GoFundMe/commission hell for years (might still be there) because they had to take care of their two dying, dementia patient parents by themselves. these are people who go to GenCon and sign autographs for four hours at a time. THE PUBLIC IS NOT AWARE OF THIS SHIT and i'm sick of it. im sick of going to a gallery opening night ("vernissage") and drinking bad wine and having a guy with an email job that pays six figures and benefits tell me being able to push "undo" on the computer is cheating. that's a real example, that has actually happened to me. more than once.
artists currently have zero labor protections whatsoever. all of us are undercutting each other in an unregulated market and relying on welfare and private insurance and not having families or buying houses. zero security until we get so old all our illnesses and dysfunction finally ground us permanently and then we get turned into a charity case by fans (humiliating) or just fade away into ghosts and die
whats my punchline? idk i dont have one. it's possible and likely that any given artist you meet is permanently in precarity and will be until they die, even the famous ones. the culture of selling art demands that artists do not admit to this in public unless shit gets really really bad. i guess my point is you should know this, as a person who looks at or listens to or reads things that people have made for your amusement, not for your survival
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Plagiarism Alert
A user named carmelcoco has been copying my post on “sun in house.” Her post is eerily similar to mine because she literally copied almost everything. The lines have the same meaning, and even the same structure, with just a few small edits here and there to make it look different.
What’s even more frustrating is that she blocked me, so I can’t even see her posts to report them myself. I found out about this from a friend, and it honestly left me feeling really disheartened. I’ve put so much effort and care into creating my content, and seeing someone else just take it and pass it off as their own is incredibly unfair.
Imagine spending hours working hard on a post, putting your heart and soul into every word, only to have someone else copy it without giving any credit and act like it’s their original work. It’s not only frustrating; it feels like a huge betrayal. I try to write posts that are helpful and meaningful, and it’s upsetting to see someone else take advantage of that effort.
I know some people might think I’m just trying to get sympathy, but that’s not what this is about. I’ve been going through a lot lately. It’s not easy to balance everything, but I still try my best to create genuine and valuable content. When someone copies that hard work, it feels like all of my efforts are being dismissed.
Here is the side by side comparison
Girl, please learn to give others credit for their work. It’s not fair or respectful to copy someone’s hard work and then pretend it’s your own. If you’re going to draw inspiration from someone, the least you can do is acknowledge them. It’s about basic decency and respect for the effort and creativity someone else has put in.
When you take someone else’s work without giving credit, it’s not just lazy, it’s dishonest. It undermines the trust in our community and discourages others from sharing their ideas openly. Remember, there’s enough room for everyone’s voice, but not if we don’t respect each other’s contributions.
So please, next time, give credit where it’s due. It’s not just about following the rules; it’s about supporting each other and building a community where everyone feels safe and valued for their original work.
EDIT
She has deleted the post and apologized. My only intention was to call out the issue, nothing more.
I kindly ask everyone to refrain from sending her any hurtful messages. That's not what our community stands for. Let’s focus on spreading kindness and keeping things positive.
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